//------------------------------// // Biting Cold (Cyan Guardian 1) // Story: Guardians of Many Hues // by TadStone //------------------------------// Biting Cold (Cyan Guardian 1) “No, go away.” A high pitched scream disturbed the night. Rainbow violently changed her sleeping position, causing feathers and parts of cloud to float through the sky. “NO please..., I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK. ... I want to stay.” On a normal day, Dash was anything but an early bird. After trying several times, she had even given up on using alarm clocks. They had all ended up on the street directly adjacent to her window during their first week in their feeble attempts to wake her. But this was different, as was intended by millions of years of evolution, the screaming filly working far more effectively than just an ordinary device that could be pushed aside, the outcries forcing huge amount of adrenaline coursing through Dash’s veins. It took barely any time at all until she was up in the air, striking a pose of determination that would have intimidated even a manticore. Only a few seconds later, her determination was replaced by confusion. There was no aggressor, no crowd of ponies, no flailing foal. Just one small pegasus was in sight, sleeping on the ground ... on what seemed to be a grave. Realisation came to Rainbow like everything since waking up in the middle of the night: fast and hard. Her body felt numb, except for the growing, throbbing pain at back of her head. If it weren’t for the night, a bystander would have seen her coat becoming dull. Adrenaline-induced strength transformed into action, the indirectly formulated call for help forcing her down to the ground faster than safety procedures would allow for. Her wings folded back to their resting place on her body, making for a descent as fast as gravity could pull her in its relentless grasps. When she hit the muddy but still very solid ground, another bruise started to form, adding to the many others, but who cared. Slowly, as not to wake the no longer screaming filly, Dash crept closer. It was an awkward feeling to walk without sensing your legs. The gravestone was worn and mossy, seemingly made of a crumby kind of stone. Many pieces were missing, torn out of their respective places by the slow but constant weathering forces. Once vibrant colours had been washed off or were fading in the sun. Pony headstones were not made to last, but to become one with the nature. Not many chose to be memorised by stone as well as history. Only with the help of her hooves tracing the leftovers of the once deep inscription, the deranged cyan mare was able to read the letters. The once delicately carved Cutie Marks below them had already turned into an incomprehensible mess of holes and bumps. “In memory of Fast Wheels and Cold Weather Loving Parents of Scootaloo.” Scootaloo She had to read it again and again. Scootaloo... This one word began to reverberate through her brain. Again and again. No other thought was possible. This word. It was taunting her, increasing her oncoming headache and distorting her expression in pain. Realisation didn’t come fast this time. Her brain was not ready for this. It couldn’t be. And yet her eyes told her the same as she took a closer look at the foal before her. Water, even a small amount, can be a great force, always following its own course, changing the surroundings with its flow. Tears, however, don’t only leave a mark on the ground, but also on the pony who sheds them. Where moments ago had been only a hint of moisture, was now a constant stream of sorrow. All of her usual coolness was gone, drained by a stronger force. In fact, everything of her normal self was gone for the moment, her motherly instinct left as the supreme ruler of her body. Being the Element of Loyalty already came with strong feelings and an inner mind-set that nearly mentally forced her to do what is best for her friends. This feeling was even stronger. The only thing in this world that had to be done was to protect the filly, keep her safe from the dangers of the darkness that even the lunar ruler herself could not dispel. Very carefully she laid down next to Scootaloo, folding a wing protectively over the filly, pressing their flanks together as best as possible without waking the sleeper. The least she could do was to gift the foal warmth against the cold. Sleep again did not come easily to Rainbow this night, even though the rhythmic quality of the young pegasus’ breathing had a soothing quality to it, constantly notifying Dash that the small creature next to her was doing well. The first shock, when she had been ruled by pure intuition, soon transformed into countless questions spinning through her head, ridiculing her because she could answer not even a single one. What had happened? Why the hell did the filly sleep out here and not in the orphanage or with a foster family? Was this a regular event? Was there nobody to care for her? And the biggest one, emerging from all of them: What to do? None of these questions were exactly helping with her headache. More to the contrary, she had to bite her lip as not to start screaming at the night sky in her helplessness. Her regular, poorely suppressed sobs were already loud enough, traveling far through the currently still air in the clearing. The last thing she needed right now was for Scootaloo to wake up and see her in this agitated state. Rainbow Dash never took pressure or even the slightest chance to lose very well. It usually left her cringing on a cloud somewhere with the thought of being useless and unwanted on endless repeat. The standard she measured herself by was an easy one: success. That’s what everyone expected of her: only the best. To fail meant to be worth nothing. Despite her plethora of colors, Rainbow Dash’s life was black-and-white when it came to judging her own value: you were a success, or you were a failure, and right now, failure was an imminent danger circling above her head like a vulture waiting for a deadly mistake of its prey. She was twenty and had no idea of parenting, boot-camps serving as her favourite pedagogic method. She knew Applejack did know a lot about foals, having to raise Apple Bloom had taught her friend a lot about it, but asking the farm pony was not an option right now. She would not leave a foal alone in the wilderness in the middle of the night. Even she knew that much. Deep trenches appeared in the ground, excavated by nervous cyan hooves. Rainbow opened her eyes the sky, absentmindedly staring upwards, as if the stars knew the answer. Of course they did not, she had to find them on her own and to do that she had to get a hold of herself. This was not about her. It was about a friend, her number one fan! She had never given up when a comrade was in need. The bright moon above her, in all its beauty and might, was the ever-present proof of that. She had vowed many times she would never do so. Now was a time for action, not for broken oaths. The night turned quiet again, as a last tear hit the soft earth. A mental pathway leading her way had formed in her mind, build up by sober thoughts instead of mindless panic. What she needed most was information. From Applejack and from Scootaloo. Both were not available at the moment. If Scootaloo had wanted to tell someone, she would have done so already. Now that her mind was finally back into something one might call a working state, Rainbow tried to remember what the filly had screamed earlier on. Had it been something about wanting to stay? Only fragments remained of the already few spoken words. It did help, though! Apparently, Scootaloo was scared of something. Something big enough to keep her from asking for help, cheating herself out of a warm bed. Just plain asking wouldn’t help, this was all about trust. The filly had to be assured that nothing bad would happen and that nothing would become publicly known without her wish. She had a plan at last. Still many questions, but a plan. This was as much consolidation as was possible in her situation. She huddled even closer to the foal by her side. Finally sleep could come. Rainbow was woken again by a stirring Scootaloo trying to escape the captivating cyan wing that doubled as her blanket as well as her prison. A smile crept over Dash’s face as she gently folded it back to her side. “Good morning, Squirt. Sleep well?” Sleep might have been good for the filly, but waking to this surprise sure wasn’t. Two orange hooves dug deep into the ground, creating enough momentum to send the small pegasus into the air, even if only for a few seconds before she came back crashing down, sending of small chunks of grass and dirt trough the air like projectiles as she made contact with the soft soil. Slowly she turned around, looking at Dash for a second before averting her eyes again. The young pegasus was shaking badly, irritation and fear clearly written all over her, her posture low and her eyes now fixed to the ground, not even once daring to meet Rainbow’s deliberately unthreatening gaze again. “Everything is alright, Scoots. No need to worry!” The adult mare didn’t quite manage to hide her own apprehension in her words. The filly remained silent, and to make things even worse, she started to back away like prey in front of a predator. Am I really THAT bad with foals?, Rainbow thought, a sigh escaping her lips. Celestia’s reign had started an hour or two ago, gifting a soft orange light to the scenery. The grave was located on a small elevation in a large clearing. Only a few birds remained in the many nearby trees, left behind by their migrating companions. None of them were singing, seemingly content with the sound of the howling wind that sent the long tufts of grass in the clearing into a constant swaying motion. No other ponies had been buried here during the last years, the small hills yielding no hints of old headstones that might have been there once. It wasn’t exactly untypical to stumble upon lone graves like this in the woods of Equestria. Most of the scenery went ignored by Dash, her eyes flitting back and forth between the scooter that was nearly hidden in the greenery just a few yards away from her and the similarly-named filly slowly creeping towards it in a steady backward motion, not daring to lose eye contact with her surprisor by simply turning around. It took no more than one swift flap of her wings for Rainbow to take up into the air and land again directly in front of the vehicle. However, the filly’s reaction was not the one the athlete had hoped for. Instead of just turning and waiting, Scootaloo ran off into the opposite direction as fast as her little hooves allowed her to, abandoning her favourite means of transport in fear for her own existence or whatever else was driving her away. “Dash, You really suck at this,” Rainbow mumbled to herself. Scootaloo had to be really scared if she reasoned that she could outrun Dash. No pony could. Rainbow took to the air again. A few strong wing beats later she caught up with the escapee, matching the running speed with ease. “Squirt. Please. I don’t know what happened. But you don’t need to run away. I will make sure of that.” Her words did not go unheard, but went without reaction nevertheless. “Please. If you keep on running you just force me to tell the authorities. I don’t want to do anything without your consent. For Celestia’s sake, stop now! Do it for me! Darn it! Do it for you own sake!” The foal stopped dead in her tracks, but Dash could not in time. A loud crack reverberated through the woods. Luckily it was from broken wood and not bone. “You OK, Rainbow?” the filly piped. “I... guess. Just missed the treeline.” Dash righted herself up, her eyes spinning in their sockets. “And how about you? Think you can stop running for a few more seconds?” “I’ll ... try...” Scootaloo slowly answered, even though her expression suggested it wouldn’t be for long. “Look, little one, this isn’t easy for me either.” Rainbow planned on not wasting what might be her one and only chance. ”I just want to help. You don’t have to tell me the whole story right now and I promise that your secret is safe with me. I just have one question and I need your honest answer: Do you have a home?” Scootaloo remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. “Scoots, I already promised you your secret is safe with me. I always keep true to my word. What are you afraid of?” “I don’t need help. I don’t want anyone to pity me.” Rainbow couldn’t help but sigh again. She stepped forward and hugged the little pegasus, who tried to break free of it, but Dash didn’t let her. Not before she had spoken her mind. “I know you don’t need help, but would it be so bad to have an easier life? No one would think less of you. You’re the coolest kid I know, and nothing can ever change that!” Her voice was as tender and soothing as was her touch, the combination of both ending Scootaloo’s fight against physical contact. “You really think I’m cool?” Was that a smile on her face? “Why else would I have been there every time something important has happened to you this past year? Why did I promise to take you under my wing? Why did I give you a flying lesson last week? And... who do you think bought you that new scooter after you lost the old in a river at the middle of night? I just couldn’t take your sad face any longer.” The last statement was accompanied by Rainbow softly nuzzling Scootaloo’s cheek. The gears began to turn in the filly’s head. Dash really had been there every time: The talent show, her birthday party, the camping trip, many of her fan meetings... Dash’s birthday present to her had been the best of all: a tuning kit for her scooter that Apple Bloom had helped to put into place. And now she had just learned that her amazing new scooter had been Dash’s doing as well. “You’re right...” she answered. Her voice was shaking a little, but she wore a small smile as she looked up to her idol. “Now please, back to my question. Do you have a place to stay or not?” Rainbow released the pony from her embrace. Her expression was very serious. “Promise me you won’t send me anywhere I don’t want to go.” The onset of happiness had already vanished again, the weight of Scootaloo’s decision literally weighing down her posture. “Why would I want to do something that uncool? I promise.” All the while shifting from one hoof to another, Scootaloo thoroughly scanned her surroundings several times before summoning up the courage to reply: “No ... I don’t have a home. Usually I sleep here or in the clubhouse.” A gentle hoof went under Scootaloo’s chin and pushed her head up a little. Big rose-coloured eyes appeared in the little filly’s vision, looking deeply into hers. “You know that won’t do. Till you’re ready to spill your guts you’re with me, kid. I can’t force you to talk, or to give up your freedom. You’re cool, Squirt. You should do whatever you want. I just got one exception: I will make sure you’re fed and have a place to sleep. Promise me to meet me at six pm under my cloud home.” “But...” Scootaloo stepped back and stared down to earth again. “I don’t need any help. Can’t we just keep it the way it is?” Rainbow went closer again, this time bringing her own head down to make eye contact, putting as much care into her voice as possible as she spoke again. “What is wrong with you? You once nearly freaked out because you got a half-eaten apple from me. And now you turn down the coolest thing ever: a sleepover at my awesome cloud home? Come on. I want the old Scoots back for a while. Do you promise?” Finally admitting defeat, Scootaloo promised, not with words but a simple nod. Rainbow answered with a second long embrace, this time mutual right from the start. “Everything’s gonna be alright. I promise. Now off to school with you.” With this, Scootaloo sped off to her scooter. Soon no more than a cloud of dust could be seen of her.