//------------------------------// // Chapter IX // Story: Shattered // by sunstar93 //------------------------------// Rage scalds my throat, burning red-hot and drying my mouth, contracting my lungs so it’s hard to breathe. I know I can’t see him, but I still turn my face away. I don’t want him to see me cry. I already feel helpless, knowing and reliving the guilt of not being able to protect my own brother. I don’t bother to wipe the tears away as they streak down my face, sticking my eyelashes together as they drip off my cheeks and trail down my neck. I can only manage a few ragged breaths, coughing as I force myself to exhale. But then I feel a soft nuzzle on my neck, Storm’s warm breath tickling under my jaw. I don’t even try to pull away and instead lean towards him, surprised when I find myself resting my head against his chest. I didn’t realize he was so close; I feel embarrassed, crying into him like a foal to her mother. He stands stock still and his heartbeat echoes in his muscular chest, slow and strong. I let my anger get the best of me: angry at myself, at the Archmagister, at him. But it is the anger towards myself that made me break down. I have not allowed myself to feel upset about what happened to my brother. I have not cried about it, choosing to let the emotions simmer inside. But now I don’t care; it’s out now, and I can’t control myself. I feel ridiculous, but Storm doesn’t move or speak. * * * My heart breaks for her. I don’t take back what I said; I couldn’t even if I wanted. Sky Feather leans her head against my chest and I have to force my heart to stay steady. I feel a shiver race down my spine because she’s so close. She can be arrogant, make no mistake, and I can tell that her pride is her weakness. But there is a small part of me that clicks and connects as I arch my neck and lightly press my muzzle into her mane, encircling her and hoping to calm her. She smells like rain and leaves, similar to a meadow after an unexpected thunderstorm, mixed with the intoxicatingly spicy scent of an exotic flower. It hits me that I am unintentionally nestling my muzzle in her mane a bit more forcefully than before, but not enough that she notices. And then my mind turns to Ice Flower. Surely she must be worried? What would she say if she saw me, us? But we are just friends…I think. I can feel Sky Feather begin to calm down and hear that she isn’t coughing as she struggles to gasp for air. But she doesn’t move, at least not at first, and I realize for the first time how…fragile she is, if that’s the right word. I didn’t think of how the mention of her brother could trigger such a reaction when she seems so strong. She almost seems…helpless. Abandoned. I don’t take pity on her- she already made that clear- but I want to help her. I just don’t know where to start. I’m not sure how much time has passed before she finally steps back, rubbing her face on her foreleg to wipe away the tear stains. Her already cloudy eyes look even murkier, the violet almost gray behind the mist. The black fur on my chest conceals the tear stains I know she left, and for a fleeting moment I wish she hadn’t moved away. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I haven’t cried over my brother, ever. I don’t know-” “It’s fine,” I interrupt. She shouldn’t have to apologize and I don’t let her finish her sentence. We stand in awkward silence, only the occasional howl of a forest wraith breaking the tense stillness. “Well,” she finally says, her voice regaining its normal haughty tone, “I think it would be best if you got some sleep. I plan for us to leave tomorrow morning before dawn and neither of us can afford to be sluggish if we’re to travel through enemy House territory.” She clears her throat and swishes her tail, a signal that I should take her hint and leave. I walk past her, pausing briefly to steal a glance back at her before continuing outside. I cannot think straight, my mind fogged and filled with questions I don’t have the answers to. How does she know so much about me? How did she even know I existed, that the Archmagister even had a family? Estranged, yes, but I must grudgingly face the truth. And why did it feel so right when she buried her face in my chest and leaned against me, needing me for support? It shouldn’t feel right; I barely know her! I enter my hut, the iron chain still coiled in the corner, looking like a snake ready to strike. I pace the floor for a few steps before settling down in the dirt and resting my head on my folded foreleg, curled and tucked beneath me. In the back of my mind, I struggle to avoid thinking about Father, how he must be worried about me. Would he come searching for me? Would Applejack even allow it? And was this why he never told me about my mother? Because he knows about her and her methods of torture? Would I have reacted the same way if he had been the one to tell me? True, I reflect, fainting and waking up in anger probably wasn’t the most appropriate response. But, then again, how exactly should I have reacted? The nearby screech of a wraith breaks my concentration and I squeeze my eyes shut, the awful noise ringing in my ears. It reminds me of claws on a metal shield, scratching and raking their way across the polished surface, dragging and drawing out the agonizing sound. I pin my ears back against my neck, hoping to block it out. Finally, just as a bird begins to sing its mournful pre-dawn song, sleep crashes over me. But it is not the least bit restful.