//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: To Err is Human, To Forgive, Equine // Story: Wish upon a Supernova // by Hyper Atomic //------------------------------// To Err is Human, to Forgive, Equine. “ … hi?” That single syllable was all I could conjure up at that moment. The other 99% of my processing power was trying to uncover any explanation as to how a UNICORN was standing not but 6 feet from me. Oh my god! I'm getting worse, I have to be! Not satisfied with merely talking multicolored equines, now my dementia is throwing mythical creatures into the mix. My breathing was becoming ragged. I was dimly aware of the doctor as he approached, but not what he was saying. My panicked eyes were glued to Miss Sparkle. Oh? So you were paying attention when she introduced herself? Shut up! Can't you see I'm busy freaking out here!? And what would make you do that? Do you not see the horn? Her horn. And yes, I think it suits her rather well. … Nevermind, you're missing the important part! Stop looking at 'what', and start looking at 'who'. Great. Now I wasn't making any sense. This was getting worse by the minute. Her ears had dropped back, a small frown having taken up residence where the smile had once been. I could easily read her expressive eyes as her brow furrowed, concern written everywhere. She was worried. “Mr. Glass?! Look at me!” I turned my head, the earth colored stallion's face suddenly the only thing I could see. “That's it. Breathe.” My heart was still pounding, but I could feel the anxiety draining away. “Keep focusing on me. Good.” The lead weight that had taken the place of my lungs was slowly leaving. “You're all right now. You're safe.” He finished, a grin of relief on his features. “I'm sorry...” I choked out, feeling more than a little ashamed. My brain was right, these are still people, regardless of what they looked like. “Don't be.” the doctor said reassuringly, “I would've been more surprised if you hadn't suffered from a little shock after an accident like that.” He pressed his stethoscope to my chest, listening to my fading heartbeat. “An accident like what?” My voice was tired from all the panic, as if I'd just run a mile, but was still curious to hear what they thought had happened. “Well, I was-” Twilight began before correcting herself, “-we were hoping you could tell us something about that.” She had moved closer, offering me a friendly smile. “ I mean, nopony saw what happened, and when Pinkie found you in the park you were already unconscious, surrounded by blackened grass.” “I don't know how much I can really add to that.” I reached up, scratching the back of my head with a hoof. That is just not the same without fingers. “I remember laying down underneath the stars before a white hot light suddenly blinded me. I couldn't see for a while, and I was in a lot of pain, so I passed out. The next thing I remember was waking up in Ponyville hospital.” The look she gave me was pensive, and perhaps a little frustrated, not that I could blame her. My account wasn't very descriptive, and it didn't seem to add anything to what she already knew. The physician continued to inspect my injuries, making approving noises as he went. Well? Are you going to tell them or not? I'm working up to it, okay? It's not like she's just going to ask me- “What were you afraid of?” chimed in the lavender mare, “When you first saw us in the doorway, that is.” I stared at her again, eyes wide with shock. Can you read my mind? “No, just your face.” She smiled slyly, adding in a slight chuckle. … What? Clearing her throat she started again, “From what you've said, it didn't seem like you were too agitated about the flash or the pain.” She tilted her head a bit to the side, “What is it that had you so terrified?” I sighed, and not the small or annoyed kind of sigh, I mean the big, heavy, 'let me lay it on you' kind. Brain, you better be right about this, or so help me … “You're right about that,” I began, “neither of those frightened me, well, not for more than a few minutes when I thought I might have been blind anyway. What made me panic before, was this.” My hoof provided a light tap to my forehead, emphasizing the point. “I'm … afraid something's happened to my mind.” Her expression changed from inquisitive to empathetic in a heartbeat. “Everything I remember from my life before the burst of light doesn't quite match up with anything I've seen after it.” Another heavy sigh predicated my next sentence. “I don't know whether to trust my memories, or my senses …” I fell quiet, head in my hooves, hoping I hadn't just committed myself to a psych ward. Dr. Trotson spoke up and I nearly jumped, having forgotten he was there, “Very strange. I haven't seen any signs of a concussion, and you're perfectly lucid.” He motioned for me to sit forward, giving him access to my back, continuing my examination. “Twilight, do you think Mr. Glass could be suffering from some form of magical malady?” I snorted out a laugh. Some doctors were pretty good at humor, though I seemed to be the only one amused. “That depends,” her brow creased, hoof on her chin in thought, “How different are your memories?” She was obviously trying to gauge the severity of my delusion. I could feel the bandages around me being loosened to give the physician a better look. Was she really not going to address the magic joke? Tough crowd. “Well, I guess the first thing is I'd never heard of a town called Ponyville,” Her left eyebrow climbed up a few notches, “or Cloudsdale for that matter.” I shook my head, looking down at my hooves again. “I don't know if there's any easy way to say this next part.” I swallowed hard, my mouth doing a stellar impression of a desert. “I don't remember anybody, especially me, being a horse before.” I wasn't surprised by the silence that followed. I wouldn't know how to respond to that either, but when I looked up at Twilight she was crossing her forelegs back and forth in the universal sign to get someone's attention, and get them to stop. It was my turn to tilt my head in confusion before I realized she was trying to get the doctor's attention, not mine. That's when I felt it. Imagine you had a third arm, located on your back, that you had never known about. Now imagine someone grabbing hold of it, and extending it completely. All of those muscles you've never used, all of those nerves you've never felt, sending signals to your brain at the same time. Now layer an irritated sunburn on top of that feeling. I whipped my head back, trying to get eyes on where those sensations were coming from. It was too much to process all at once, and when I saw it, that only made it more unsettling. Unfolded, in the doctor's hooves, was a dark green feathered wing. And it was attached to me. I yelped in surprise, my whole body twisting reflexively, flailing to get away. I wasn't thinking about anything other than escape, and when my front legs left the edge of the bed, I immediately regretted it. Without proper support, or any coordination to speak of, I tumbled over the side impacting face first onto the cold ground. “Dr. Trotson,” I mumbled through the floor, “I think I found that concussion.”