There is something about wood that librarians are just fascinated with. I honestly don't know if it is because ponies used wooden shelves to hold their literary material for thousands upon thousands of years which creates a universal symbolism, or if it is merely an aesthetic choice, but I have never seen a library with metal, stone or other forms of material to hold their books. I read in the school's history that when the head librarian Nautilus Bookhoof demanded wooden bookcases, nearly every other member of the faculty objected; after all, it was the inauguration of the school, and the administration had wanted to show off the Magi-Flex construction in all its glory. Perhaps they were worried that wood would steal their thunder, somehow.
Sir Bookhoof nearly sabotaged the construction of the school when the decision came down that the bookshelves would not be wood. Princess Celestia had to intervene, and she decided against the majority of the school and let the wooden bookshelves be incorporated into the design of the library. Why she did that, I never knew or bothered to figure out. Pondering the past only does so much for a pony, after all.
If only Headmaster Daric understood that.
I had to steady my nerves as I entered the library, where I knew the Headmaster probably waited in that favorite corner of his. I bit my lip and peered around the corner, and sure enough, I found him staring at his yearbooks as he sat at a round table. I remembered that he liked to keep his mementos and photos in the library for curious ponies to take a look at during school, to see if they were clever enough to figure out what they were and what they signified. It usually brought him delight when a student would come to some revelation about the Headmaster as a result of intelligent and thorough study. I remember the look of shock that came over his face when I pointed out my mother's picture in his graduating class, shortly after the Princess had enrolled me.
Dammit, he looked up. "Pantrostic, I'm not sure what you have to—"
"Save it." I sat down next to him, fished his note out, and slammed it on the table in front of him. Daric jumped at the noise, then looked at me as if I had taken a foal and bashed its head in.
"Look, I've been nice," I tried to say in a calm and even tone. "I tried to keep details vague no matter how much you asked. I tried to tell you that you didn't want to hear the full truth about my mother."
"Pantrostic, you're yelling—"
"I KNOW!"
I bit my lip, took several deep breaths, covered my face with my forelegs, and hyperventilated to my heart's content.
I felt a leg drape over my shoulder. PLEASE don't try to give me a freaking pep talk— "Pantrostic, look, I wish you would just trust me to bear whatever it is you are burdened with!" Daric continued to stroke the back of my neck, and as much as I just wanted him away from me and out of my life, I had to admit that a comforting hoof from a heartbroken idiot is better than no comfort at all.
Scratch that: a soon-to-be-heartbroken idiot.
I needed to break it to him. I didn't want to drag my mother's name through the mud, but I had held back long enough. I sat back up, put my legs back into a proper sitting position, and motioned to the year book.
"You know that she didn't get her cutie mark until late in life, right?"
I could see Daric's eyebrows furrow; he had to think about that. "If I recall right, she still had not gained a talent of her own by the time she had graduated. I managed to stay in touch with her for a while longer, but then—"
"She disappeared. You never found out what really happened to her."
"Until you came to the school, I had not heard anything else about her, you are right about that."
"I didn't want to tell you. I thought you would hate me even more if I told you, and that you would blame me even more than you did."
"That's ridic—" Daric turned away, and I could only imagine that he was biting his tongue. "I... was hot-headed. I told you that I loved your mother because of her gentleness and kindness, and to hear that a commoner had robbed her of her nobility—"
"And that's where you are wrong."
I had to look away as Daric stared at me.
"Look, I'm sorry I kept stuff from you, alright? I didn't know that you had a connection with my mother, I thought maybe you were just some high-school crush or something like that—"
"We were more than that, we were friends!"
"And I'm sorry, okay?!"
My hoof was waving in the air as I punctuated my sentence. "I had my mother, my father, and my SPOUSE'S mother and father, DIE ON THE SAME DAY. THEN, I had to take care of a foal that resulted from a weakness brought on by my grief. It didn't help matters that I was taken advantage of."
Stop this RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, dude. You're going manic. You need to slow down, or he won't get what you're trying to say.
I shut my mouth, and found that I was crying again. I always cry, no matter how many times I have to tell the Nightmare—damned story of my Nightmare—damned life. I wish it was easy to just spit it out and walk away! I had to wait a minute before my breath was even again.
"And, well, when you demanded to know every single thing about my mother, and you were a total stranger at that point if you recall, I just, well, I fought back. Then I figured out that you had cared about her." I put my head on the table, the polished wood cooling the blood that had rushed to my head. "I didn't know what to say."
"It had to do with her talent." Daric's voice sounded hoarse.
Bingo. "Yes... the reveal of her talent is what conceived me."
Daric's leg was still on my back. I felt it lift off, which allowed my neck to cool. I heard a whuff of breath as he sat back, probably pondering the tidbit of information I had just given him. He wasn't headmaster of this school for nothing; his ability to put together logical outcomes was one of his qualifications.
"You... you were worried that I would have thought that you were insulting your own mother, just to spite me. Because you didn't know me."
I nodded, my cheek rubbing against the polished wood of the table. "Her life as a Noble of Canterlot was over once she found out her talent was having satisfying sex," I said. "The Old Houses are fine with concubines and illegitimate foals, but a Mare of the Manor House whose talent was promiscuity? Blasphemy, indeed." I sighed, both relieved and worried about Daric's reaction to what I was saying. "She managed to find work as a relationship therapist, with an emphasis on sexual satisfaction."
I sat up, and almost laughed a little. "Sex ed for me was definitely strange. Mom just about took over my classroom when she found out that our sex ed teacher advocated 'solo experimentation' at a young age. The poor stallion was almost fired over the lawsuits that came pouring in; turns out it was a legitimate misunderstanding, though."
"So... Lickety did not take advantage of your mother?"
And thus the coffin on his perception of Mom is about to have its last nail hammered in. "I was conceived when she lost her virginity and earned her cutie mark. Dad said that she had approached him, wanting a fling to celebrate independence, and to get 'experienced' before finding a special someone. He stayed by her side and helped her transition to both motherhood and common Canterlot life, even though neither of them were truly in love with the other. That's why I was an only child."
I stood up, turned away from Daric and began to walk away. "That's all in the past, though," I said over my shoulder. "What matters is that we move forward and grow and develop based on what we have now. That was the greatest advice Mom has ever given me. Take it to heart."
I walked away. I had had enough.
I had had enough of ponies poking their noses into my life simply because I had suffered crap they hadn't. I had had enough of ponies thinking that they were doing a good deed reopening those old wounds again and again and again, as if there was any more dirt that needed to be cleaned out of my system. Aaaaand there's another item to put on my checklist of guilt. I blitzed like a Bat Pony out of Tartarus away from the library, away from the school, and on and on and on.
I had to stop when I realized that I had almost overshot the turn to my house. I didn't think about anything as I shuffled along with the masses of Canterlot towards my destination. It was only when I was standing in front of my house, with its boarded-up stained-glass windows, its half-bald slate-shingled roof, its creaky timbers on a weathered masonry foundation, and the yellowing weeds that made up the lawn, when I realized I had left Daric alone after I had crushed his spirit.
HOLY FUCK that was a mistake!
I bashed the door to my home open, glad in the knowledge that nobody else was here; I still needed to pick up my kid, and Barbara wouldn't get back until five thirty or so. The backpack slumped to the floor with the rest of the wrinkled jackets, scarves and weather gear strewn by the front door. I hooked the errant door and slid it shut hard enough to feel the mini-gust from the slam tussle my hair. I dragged myself to the nearby couch and threw myself on its cushions.
My eyes flooded with tears.
The sight of our house didn't help my mood. I looked up to see a spider on the windowsill. I did not dare risk finding out if I had the energy to squash it as it sunbathed in the intense light of the afternoon. I looked around the room and saw the mountain of bills and paperwork that spilled over the living room table, and saw at least six different handles from spatulas, pans and serving spoons as they stuck out from the kitchen counter, where I knew the sink waited with at least a week's worth of dirty dishes. I looked down and shivered at the pebbles, dirt, sand and food crumbs that had wormed their way into our carpet, and I could smell the cheese residue from those Chutos brand chips on the cushions I cried on.
Our home was a mess, and my life felt the same.
Time passed. I kept an eye on the clock hung from the ceiling yes, it is an odd spot, but it actually drew the eye and kept us all on time over the years and did everything I could to let the emotion drain away. I remember the last time I was this upset. I couldn't move for a week. I didn't have that kind of luxury this time; I had to get my things together for my trip tonight.
*DING DONG* the front door bell went.
Oh Gods, who could it be now?!
I heaved my body up from the couch, extricating my legs from the couch cushions that I had snuggled up with. I stumbled a little when I stepped out on the floor as the blood rushed away from my head. I went to the door as the bell went *DING DONG* again, which was when I opened it.
It was Twilight Sparkle at the front door, covered from prying eyes via a plain grey cloak. My face almost went brown from embarrassment.
"Hey," she said, "I saw how, um, emotional you got today, and I thought I'd come by and see if there was anything I could do to help you get ready for the trip." She looked away from me as if she was the embarrassed one, which I almost took offense at. She even pawed at the ground in a manner that just about shouted embarrassing goodwill. I should be the one who is embarrassed, not her!
I took a deep breath, and spoke in as even and calm a tone as I could: "Well, I have not yet made any preparations." I checked the time on the clock hanging in the main room. "I actually need to pick up my son in about fifteen minutes."
I stepped to the side and opened the door all the way. "Would you like to come in? Please, keep your hoof boots on; we don't have any hired help to maintain this place, so the floor gets fairly dirty."
She came into our dirty home, and I was surprised when she gasped. What could have surprised her like that? I hope it wasn't the mess—
"Wow, the place really is dirty!" she chirped, then put a hoof over her mouth as if she was shocked at stating the obvious. I didn't know what else to say, so I kept my mouth closed while she looked around the room, as if desperate for some new topic of conversation to save us from the—
"What's that over—oh wow, a painting!" she said as she pointed with her hoof. She trotted over to the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedrooms, right up to the Family Portrait that hung on the wall opposite the massive stained glass windows, which were boarded on the outside to protect them from ill-wishers and curtained from the inside to keep the carpet from fading. Sure, it was just our family from my mother's side, but it had most of my ancestors from her side, which would be interesting from a guest's perspective, I guess.
I decided to indulge her fancy and walked up alongside her.
"That child over there is my mother," I said as I pointed my hoof, "she was named Lilywhite for the white lily that bloomed when she was born. The person holding her is my grandmother, Countess Margeron, and her husband Count Mantu is right beside her—"
"Wait, is that Starswirl the Bearded?!" Twilight exclaimed.
I sighed. Always the first thing they note about the painting, I thought. "Yes, that figure at the top of the crowd is Starswirl the Bearded," I said, hoping my tired condescension didn't come through too much. "My mother's family hails from a bastard daughter he fathered in his youth, before he earned the majority of his fame."
"Oh," she said. "A lot isn't known about Starswirl's early days. I guess he could have done anything and history wouldn't remember it."
She gasped again and looked away from the painting and I. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I'm sure that having him as your ancestor is something you are very proud of—"
"My grandmother was the last living member of my family to give a rat's tail about our ancestry," I interrupted, my tone even. "When she passed away, my mother wanted nothing to do with any form of ‘nobility’ or ‘ancestry’." I waved a hoof in the air to emphasize my sarcastic quote marks.
I sighed. I put that hoof on my mother's image in the painting. "She never liked the past, my dad said. She wanted to look forward, to the future, without the baggage the past can burden you with. In fact, Dad was the only one who would even talk about our ancestry. My mother never said a word."
Twilight turned back to me. "Are you," she began to say, but then she turned away again.
"Am I okay with the fact that my father and mother are dead?" I asked, sure that that was what she would have asked.
I heard a little intake of breath from her, which could mean that I was right. I waited for her to respond.
"Well, I mean, I, I know that if I lost people who were close to me, I..." her breath almost caught in her throat, "I wouldn't be alright for a long time."
I sighed. "It is something that changes you," I said. "Then again, if you throw a boulder on top of a sapling, it will grow around the boulder eventually, if it has the strength. Over the centuries, it will break down the rock until there is no more evidence that the boulder was ever there."
"So, you'll be alright with time?" she asked.
"If I get the chance to have that time," I answered.
The air felt muffled, accentuated by the constant mumble of passers-by on the street outside. I felt that if I spoke, she wouldn't hear me, despite the fact that she is right beside me. I shuffled in place, and started to sweat again. Come ooooon, say something, break the ice, throw the narwhal, put the foal in the kitchen sink and set it on fucking fire, JUST SAY SOMETH—
"Well..." she turned to me. "Will you be ready for the flight tonight?"
I sighed. "Yes... I will, barring some nut-job trying to kill me for writing about ponies with cutie marks that could only be used for evil." Twilight stared at me. "Oh come on, not you too!"
Twilight looked away again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
I sighed, put a hoof on her shoulder. "It's a reflex of mine; I know a lot of ponies really don't want to know about some of the terrible things some ponies did with their cutie marks." I looked away. "It was a series of biographies, too. They were real ponies. Of course, nobody read the damn books, but somebody HAS to talk about the manipulators and the cruel ones that blend in with the crowd. Otherwise, they win and we lose."
I put my hoof down. I took as deep a breath as I could, and said, "Thanks, I really needed that."
"No problem," she said as she walked over to the door, "Remember, ten o'clock sharp!"
"Pegasus Transport, Red-eye Flight!" I parroted back as she slipped out to civilization.
And all was still again.
The silence depressed my spirits against the floor. I sighed, and checked the clock. It chimed right on the hour at four p.m.
Time to go get Asura, I thought.
As I tiptoed around the crumpled pile of weather gear by the door, my mind wandered. How long would it take to do this... this insane task? Find a forge powerful enough to create “the most powerful magic in Ponydom?” How the heck would you even BEGIN to record an adventure like that?! What good would I be, beyond bait/starvation insurance (read: cannibalism under extreme duress)/flowery words that mean nothing? Yeah, that’s right, words ain’t nothing like deeds, now THOSE define—
I lightly tapped the center of my forehead against the corner of the door as I opened it and went through. “We’ve been through this before,” I muttered to myself as I turned around to close the door. “Just because words are a candle and deeds are goddamn suns to other people doesn’t mean that words are useless, they can be really powerful if used right—”
—which is a deed. You’re USING words. The words mean nothing; it is HOW they are used that mean everything.
I froze, my hoof on the doorknob. My unbalanced weight pitched me forward, which opened the door further instead of closing it.
"How the fuck did I not see that?" I said to myself. I laughed, the sound echoing through my mind. I caught the door before it slipped beyond my hooves, closed it and locked it with my mouth, the brass handle of the deadbolt leaving an acrid taste behind.
I glanced around the sidewalk and across the street to see if people were staring at me. No one paid me any attention, thank goodness; there were times when a random idiot in the neighborhood would come up and curse the ground my family and I walked on. The crazies had to be dealt with by the Canterlot Patrol horses, partly to keep Asura from killing them and partly to keep me from killing them. Not really of course, but I do get emotional under certain stressors.
I don't like people making a fuss over nothing. If someone does, I try to tell them why they could be wrong, and ask them to at least think things over before they open their mouth and espouse the exact same stuff without considering the points I might bring up. It's damn hard to just get people to TALK in a calm and collected manner some times....
I didn't think of anything else as I trudged on passed the familiar landmarks: The minaret on Mr. Shetland's house Funny guy, shaggy and short beyond belief, the change from cobblestone to poured concrete blocks that marked the end of the Upper Class district My mother's family was VERY influential... emphasis on "was", the colorful lanterns and electric lights of the club district *shiver* Bad memories here, wish I had chosen a different route, and finally the central Station for Law Enforcement here in Canterlot.
The building's simple cubic design and brick-red color combined with the solid brick walls made it clash with the more fanciful curves and elegant shapes of the houses and shops around it. There were no windows; the only entrance is a door with a single candle-powered lantern over it. The place radiated no-nonsense, and whatever guilt I felt during the day seemed to magnify whenever I came here. It would be kinda funny if that was caused by a spell made by the inventor of the Ponygraph, I thought as I went through the front door. I wouldn't be surprised if it was; that stallion was crazy-good at his job.
I walked past the front desk to a side door marked with colorful, crudely drawn rainbows and ponies. I walked up to the door, and sighed; this was never easy, picking up Asura from here, but there wasn't any other place for him to go during the day. The alternatives scared me more than what could happen to him here.
I went through the door, and noticed how thick the atmosphere became.
It wasn't the thickness of embarrassment or awkwardness. This thickness was one of sweat mixed with hot breath, one of the hard work of the body in the pursuit of physical perfection. The room itself helped further this attitude: it was lit with soft yellow lamps hanging from the walls, the wispy smoke from dust that had settled on them flowing up through small holes in the ceiling. The lamps showed a room lined with all sorts of training apparatus: protective gear, body dummies, and a giant multi-sport ring in the middle of the room. It was slightly elevated and well-lit despite the flickering of the candles, with ropes covered in foam marking the outer boundaries of the fighting area.
Two ponies in full protective gear, a colt and a stallion, wrestled with each other in the middle of the ring, their forelegs interlocked in a struggle to try and overpower the other. The colt shifted under the stallion's weight, which pitched the stallion head first onto the ground. The stallion detangled his legs from the grip, twisted around and used his hind hooves to propel his hind knee back into the colt's protected midriff. There was a loud *OOUF*, and the colt tried to struggle around the stallion's knee. The stallion's weight kept the colt pinned no matter the force the colt exerted, which resulted in the colt tapping the stallion's foreleg as a gesture of defeat.
The stallion and the colt separated from each other and went to opposite corners of the ring, the colt to the far left corner, and the stallion to the near right corner next to me. The stallion put his hooves on either side of the corner post, breathing deep and fast, and looked at me.
"Yer son's taking a shower," he said. "He did well today; kept his head a little longer than before. He still lost it, but he woulda had me pinned if he'd been thinking about what he was doing."
I nodded, glad that Asura finally made a little progress towards controlling his... condition. It's always so difficult to explain why I would let my son learn any form of martial art this young... but if they met him, they would know why.
"Is there anything I should tell him about how he did?" I asked.
"Just that if he kept his head, he woulda gotten me," the fighting instructor said. "I'm just about tapped dry with what I can teach him at his age. I'm glad he's moving on; he's going places in the fighting world."
I must have made a shocked face, because the fighting instructor laughed at me. "When he's old enough, of course!" he said. "No way I'd pit real fighters against Asura, that'd be suicide."
"For Asura?" I asked, immediately relieved.
"For the fighters," he said. He smiled, and turned around to face the colt in the corner, who stood at the ready. "Alright Wayne, let's try that again, except try to move once you're under your opponent!"
The fighting instructor and Wayne, the colt, lunged at each other and locked their forelegs against each other again. I turned away; I had seen the routines plenty of times when I would spend the evenings here with Asura.
I sighed as I lay down on a nearby bench. Letting Asura stay here for more intensive training was the hardest thing I ever had to do, I thought as I waited for Asura to leave the shower for the last time.
Yeah, his year-long intensive training ended earlier today. There was a small tournament a couple weeks ago between the six or so colts that had undergone the training with Asura, and Asura placed first. Just about stunned the audience too, at least for what I saw; I had to run straight from classes to the Station, so I missed out on a lot. I remember bursting through the door, Asura in his corner and another colt in the other corner, getting ready for another round. I had run straight to Asura, so that he could see me and know that I was there for him.
Asura turned around and signaled to the instructor that he was ready; I wasn't sure if he had seen me or was just ignoring me. The instructor was refereeing, so another parent with tattoos all over her neck and shoulders told me that Asura's hot-headedness had been getting the best of him for most of the bout. Asura and the other colt closed quickly, then something amazing happened.
Asura slid under the other colt face first, then raised his hind legs and connected with two powerful hind kicks to the other colt's groin. Asura then pushed with all his might, which sent the other colt blurring into the ropes at the edge of the ring. The ropes strained to hold the other colt as Asura got up to face the inevitable counter-attack as the ropes launched the other colt back at him.
The ropes propelled the other colt with more force than normal. Asura jumped into the air at just the right instant to sail above his opponent as he came whistling by, the opponent's forelegs extended in an attempt to flatten Asura, yet close enough for Asura to send a one-two downward foreleg kick to the other colt's.
The other colt hit the ring hard, and bounced and tumbled head over hooves right under the ropes and out of the ring. Asura rolled on his landing, and stood up as the entire room went silent.
"Good Job Asura!" I shouted. I turned to the parent with the tattoos and said, "I didn't know they taught fancy combat like that here!"
The other parent shook her head and said, "First time I've seen anything like THAT in this place!"
Then I understood why everyone went silent. Asura wasn't taught a move like that; he had come up with it on the spot!
I smiled, basking in the glow of that memory. I was never as proud for Asura than on that day. Asura had sprained his legs with that stunt, so he had to recover. Which is why he was leaving the dojo now, and not immediately after the tournament was over. After all, the fighting instructor knew how to recover from fighting injuries, and I didn't.
"Daad, hellooo?!" someone said to me. I snapped out of my reverie, and noticed a familiar flaming red-gold-orange mane and tail connected to a pale white coat that housed the biggest brown eyes you ever did see... one of the few things he picked up from his mother.
"Hey, Asura!" I said, and we hugged for a while. "How was your day?"
"Oh, not bad, still didn't pin the teacher," Asura said. "Was your day good?"
"Oh, it was... alright," I said, "Some very important things happened today."
"Step-mommy took me to see your graduation!" Asura said. "It was awesome, with the rainbow and the water and the sun and the Princess—"
"Wait, you were there?!" I said, caught by surprise at this fact I must have overlooked earlier today.
"Yeah! It was amazing!"
"Huh."
I laughed, Asura laughing with me. Funny how things tended to happen together, even if you're unaware of it.
"So, ready to come home?" I asked.
"Yep! Just gotta get the other bag," Asura said as he turned around and bolted towards a door in the back room. Wait, he only had ONE bag of clothes when he came here, since when did he get another— Asura burst back out of that door with another bag strapped around his shoulder that had strange bumps and lumps poking out of it.
"Can't forget my training gear!" he said. "Gotta stay in shape!"
I smiled, my questions answered. I slipped the first bag that Asura must have brought onto my right shoulder, not my left. I didn't want to trigger another episode from my old shoulder wound, considering what else happened today.
"You okay Dad?" Asura asked. "You're moving funny."
I looked at him, amazed that he could tell that I've been through a lot today. "I'm okay now, but I got into an argument with someone," I explained.
"Why?" Asura asked.
"Because I needed to tell him something that was hard for him to take." I walked towards the door and opened it. "Let's get going home, we'll grab a bite to eat on the way, if you're hungry."
"Can I get ice cream?"
"Do you need ice cream?"
"But I WANT it! And you said you'd take me after the tournament, remember?"
I laughed. "Yeah, I remember. Sure, why not?"
"SWEET!"
I walked out the door, Asura right behind me. I walked out of that Station with Asura for what I sincerely hoped was the last time in my life, and in Asura's. I hope never to have to put him through that kind of intense fighting ever again. I know it can't be good for him, not in the long run.
I felt... strange, almost as though this is exactly how I was supposed to feel all day every day. It's a weird feeling because I had never felt quite like it before. I looked back at Asura as we walked to the Hay Flats Diner, right on the edge of the club district. Maybe... it's because....
"What?" Asura asked.
I smiled, shrugged and said, "Nothing."
"It's never nothing," Asura said. He trotted in front of me, turned around, and trotted backwards to maintain pace with me. "It's always something with you. So what is it?"
I really didn't know how to answer. "Well, maybe I'm just happy to be here with you," I said.
"Really?" Asura asked, his brown eyes just about piercing my heart with how big and cute they are. "You must have been very lonely, Dad."
Asura turned back around and walked forward. Aaaand here comes the inevitable "Why'd you put me there, Dad?" "Don't you like being around me, Dad?" "Aren't you happy around me, Dad?" "Why were you away from me, Dad?" "What if something happened to—
Asura stopped. I stopped alongside him.
"Daddy...." Asura muttered.
"Yes, son?" I responded, my gut clenching in response to the flurry of questions to come.
Asura reached over and wrapped his forelegs around my shoulder. "I'm happy you're here too."
And my vulnerable, emotional heart kicked into overdrive. I sat down so we could hug each other right there on the street. I could have sworn I hear someone say "Awww!" some distance away, but I didn't care. I held my kid, and damn the pony who tries to interrupt!
"Weren't we getting some ice cream, Dad?" Asura asked.
I laughed again. "Yes we were, son." I stood up.
Some instinct told me to look in the general vicinity of our house. My throat just about choked when I saw the unmistakable plume of smoke rise up next to the street lamp right by were we live.
"Dad, what's wrong?"
I broke out into a trot, my mind whirling like a trapeze artist as I tried to pinpoint the source of the blaze. The more I jogged, the more I realized that the smoke was coming from our property, so I broke into a full-on run.
Why now why does crap always have to happen to me why is this stuff making my life more miserable every time I turn around what the hell is wrong with this day WHY AM I NOT ENGAGING THE SAFETY FEATURES?
I bit my lip and concentrated, fully aware that the magical fire suppression system Princess Celestia had installed would be harder to trigger the further I was away from the house. I tried anyway, and somehow the adrenaline caused my will to surge into my horn. Next thing I knew, I could see a blueprint of my house in front of my face. I stopped my running so the translucent blueprints wouldn't make me lose what little stuff was in my stomach; I realized that I haven't eaten a single thing all day.
The blueprint glowed red where the suppression system detected heat and fire. I noted that the windows somehow didn't show up; perhaps someone smashed them open to feed the blaze? I was also surprised to find that the fire was located in an out-of-the-way corner of the basement. Definitely a strange place to start a fire, but what worried me was that the smoke could get into the ventilation; one of the many modifications Mom made after Grandma Margeron passed away was to update the key systems of the house for modern times.
I knew how to turn the suppression system from detection to full-on extinguishment, but it would take as much concentration as I could muster. Considering my track record from last night and this morning, I was surprised that I was able to even call up the house's blueprints. I was scared that I could screw this up and lose the family home.
I took a deep breath, and focused on the red spots. I thought about the red spots disappearing, and being replaced by the calm blue of the rest of the house. I closed my eyes and willed with all my might to get the system to do what I wanted it to.
I felt a surge of energy from something deep inside me. There was a flash of energy right in front of my face, which startled me enough to almost lose focus on the spell. I tried to salvage my efforts, but the magic just wouldn't flow again. I cursed my ineptitude, and opened my eyes.
The red was gone, replaced by a happy blue.
"Dad, what happened?!"
I realized that my chest was heaving. I looked to the side; Asura's worried face echoed my own panic.
"Son, a fire started at the house," I said. "We need to get there and make sure nobody got hurt."
His eyes went wide. "But, what could start a fire? Didn't the Princess protect us with that spell?"
"What do you think I was doing?!" I yelled. "I was triggering the spell right now!"
"Oh... so all those red dots are fire?"
My head whipped back to the blueprint, and I realized that more fires had somehow appeared in a cluster around the base of the blaze I had managed to put out. My entire body ached with my previous attempt to stop the fire; I knew I couldn't put the flames out from here.
"We need to get home, now, or we could lose the house!"
"But couldn't you do what you just—"
"No son, I can't!" I surged forward in a full gallop, the blueprint moving to my peripheral vision so I wasn't blind to the world as I charged to my flaming home. I could hear Asura screaming after me; I wish I could stop and let him catch up, but dammit I needed to get home!
I kept glancing at the blueprint as I ran, and couldn't believe it when even more fires popped up around the basement, as if the blaze had more than one source. By the time the fifth red dot became large, I realized that the fires were being spread in a line and not an expanding sphere, as they should if the fires were sparked by natural causes.
Arson. I shivered at the thought that some pony hated me that much to burn down my house. I damn well hope Barbara didn't make it home—
I ran faster than I ever thought I could run, the flabby muscles I had built when my dad forced me to train in Parkour with him straining to limits they had not felt in a long time. The world slowed down as I skidded to a halt in front of my house. The billowing smoke made things worse than I knew they were, and I heard a sound I dreaded to hear:
"HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP!!"
BARBARA NO CELESTIA BE DAMNED WHY IS SHE STILL IN THERE SOMEBODY HELP PLEASE SOMEBODY—
I bashed my head against the ground, which jerked my body out of its panic mode. I brought the blueprint back to my full field of vision; now that I was on the property, I should be able to put the fires out with a minimum of effort.
I took another deep breath, focused on replacing the red with the blue like before. Thankfully, my magic came through again, and with another burst of energy later, the red was gone. I breathed a small sigh, but realized that Barbara could still die from smoke inhalation. I turned off the fire suppression blueprint, and saw something strange.
A pony stood framed in one of the broken windows, a whip wrapped around his forehooves. His coat looked as grey as the smoke that billowed around him, and I couldn't see a cutie mark; I realized the pony probably painted over the tattoo, to hide whatever his talent was. Before I knew it, the pony leaped out of the window, a crack of his whip aimed at my face.
I ducked and rolled away quick enough to see a glint of metal as the stranger landed. What the hell was that metal? Where was it, a pocket, a saddlebag, his hooves— The stranger shifted towards me, and I shivered when I realized the glint was blades attached to the leading edge of his horseshoes.
The stranger kicked; I could barely do anything more than flail as I tried to back away from the blades. Sparks flew as the metal edges clashed with my weathered horseshoes. I knew better than to try and seriously fight this pony; I'm no fighter, even if I know a technique or twoNightmaredamnit if you KNOW a technique, TRY IT DUMBASS!
I realized what my subconscious was telling me. I calmed down, and waited for his next strike. As expected, my attacker went for my neck for a clean kill. I hooked his hoof with mine, pulled it over my right shoulder, and spun in place, throwing every ounce of muscle and weight I had on that hoof.
I could feel something pop in both his hoof and mine, and I was elated when he sailed past me onto the grass. Whatever pride I felt was quickly dashed when the stranger quickly rolled into an upright position, and I found myself tackled to the ground, him on top. I kicked as fast as I could, but my hind legs were pinned and my forelegs could barely angle the hoof blades away from my chest or neck.
The stranger slumped forward, which caught me off guard. Next thing I knew, both my hooves were against his left foreleg trying desperately not to buckle under the blade pointed at my throat. I felt something slam my right shoulder, and I cried in pain when I realized the person had stabbed me with his other hoof blade. I could feel his left foreleg slip closer to my throat, and I was about to beg Celestia for a miracle.
A flaming-white blur careened into the stranger's face, knocking him off me and causing him to roll several feet away. I lurched up, looked over and saw that the blur was giving the stranger a serious run for his fighting prowess; I could barely see either of them as sparks flew from their fore-hoof parries and blocks. I got back on my feet and looked back to the house.
Barbara wasn't yelling anymore. This worried me; she could be unconscious. "BARBARA!!" No answer was there to allay my fears. I rushed to a smashed-open window and leaped right through the smoke.
I coughed and sputtered as the smoke and the ash gave my lungs the conniption fit of their lives. I dropped to the floor, where the smoke would, hopefully, be the thinnest, and crawled along the floor, my eyes already smarting from the ash in the air. I thanked the Princesses that I was anal about knowing where the cardinal directions were in relation to my current position, because I wouldn't have been able to navigate the house half as well if I hadn't.
I worked my way over to Barbara's bedroom, coughing up a storm and trying not to strain my eyes. My ears perked up when I heard something that made me both happy and sick to my stomach:
"h-help-p-p-please-hel-llp-p-m-mmee...."
I crawled right to the source of the moaning. "Bar*cough*Barbara, I'm *hack* here, wh*wheeze*where are you *cough*?"
I felt a hoof brush mine. I grabbed it in my teeth, and was relieved to feel a response of some kind as she tightened around my jaw. I dragged her over to where my directional sense told me was a window. I snaked up the wall and was relieved to feel the broken glass at the window's moulding. My body heaved as I slipped Barbara onto my back, and was scared to find that she didn't breathe although her snout was right next to my ear.
I gathered what strength I had left and lunged out the window. The ground was closer than I thought; I barely managed to skid to a halt, letting Barbara slip to the earth in the same motion. I knelt down by her and tried to check her vitals; I'm pretty sure I could hear a heartbeat, but she wasn't breathing.
I had read a booklet about CPR. I knew the steps, knew what to do. But I was never certified, and I was never in a position where I had to do it. As I put my mouth over Barbara's and tried to pinch her snout shut with my hooves, I couldn't help but remember that if I pushed too hard with the chest compression, I could break her rib cage because she was smaller than I was.
I lifted my head, took a deep breath, and immediately coughed it out; smoke was still in my lungs. I tried again, and once my lungs were full I immediately smothered her face with my lips and exhaled.
Barbara coughed right into my throat as her eyes shot open. I backed away onto my rump so she could see who was in front of her. I could barely remember the last time I felt this grateful to see someone's chest rise and fall in some kind of regular breathing pattern; I think it was when our parents were sick.
"Pan*cough*Pantrostic!"
She lunged at me, wrapping her legs and wings around my body in a massive bear hug. I held her there, both of us crying and coughing on each other's shoulders. I was so happy she was okay, and content with simply holding her close, that I nearly startled out of her grip when a painful scream ripped through the air.
Both of us looked up to see the fiery white blur that had saved me bending the stranger's right foreleg behind his back. There was a crunch as the leg broke under the strain, and the stranger screamed again. The stranger's other legs splayed out in awkward poses; the blur must have broken them too.
"You DARED to attack my dad!" The blur said as it began to drag the broken stranger away.
"AaagughnopleaseletmegoIsurrender—"
"You TRIED to burn down my home!" The blur came up to a lamp post, and readied the stranger for a throw.
"NONOPLEASEAAAAHHHAHAHAOWWPLEASENOMORE—"
"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO BAD GUYS LIKE YOU!!"
"NOOOOO—"
The blur threw the stranger at the lamp post, which the stranger wrapped around like a rag doll made of rope, and then unwrapped, and collapsed in a pile of broken legs and broken body.
The blur remained a blur, although he was stationary. I smacked myself on the forehead, hoping that would clear my vision. I looked back up to see Asura where the blur was standing. I stood up to walk towards him.
"Please, just leave him *cough* alone, stay with me—" Barbara grabbed my left shoulder and squeezed.
I had to bite back the scream of pain as the old wound did its dirty work on my nervous system. I could feel my entire left foreleg go numb. PleasepleasePLEASE don't trigger the hallucinations, PLEASE DON'T— I blinked, and almost swore out loud.
Changelings, everywhere, biting at buildings, swarming around other changelings, filling the air and most every aspect of my vision. I knew they weren't real, but they were there, and dammit they kept me from getting to Asura. I limped in the general direction I had seen Asura, and came upon a small foal-sized changeling that stood still. I put my right front hoof on his shoulder, and thanked Celestia that the shoulder was solid.
I hugged it close. "It's alright, Asura, it's over, we're safe." I blinked again, and the Changelings disappeared, with Asura in my embrace. I could feel Asura shaking from head to tail, so I just held him to my chest as he began to cry.
"Daddy you just took off and left me alone you didn't explain anything and then that bad guy was killing you I just I couldn't stop I was so mad and angry and Oh Sunny Day I'm a bad pony I killed him I killed him I hurt him I made him hurt waaaaaaaaahhhh!"
I could feel my entire body come down from the adrenaline high it had been on for the past Oh Lunar Eclipse, how long DID this ordeal last? which meant that I began to shake as the stresses finally made themselves known to my brain. I did everything I could to hold Asura close, but I could see the world start to tunnel around Asura.
"*sniff* Daddy? Daddy, you okay?"
"Y—yes, Son, I'm okay, just... just a little... worn... out...."
I could hear Asura scream my name as blackness engulfed my vision.