//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: A Fool's Mind // Story: To Be Human // by Bastinator //------------------------------// ”Anon, come out come out wherever you are!” Come out? No, not yet. You still have, this, to deal with. Your hands cup the sides of skull, placing pressure on its interior. Fighting fire with fire, ineffective, you’ll only create a larger fire. Then why do this? ”Anon?” Rainbow Dash voices at the entrance of the alley, her shadow only adding to its darkness. This pain… Get. Out. Why does this sensation linger? Of all those that mortals must face, why do you face this? Her hoofsteps get closer, a gust of wind picking up around you as she turns the corner. ”Gotcha! Huh?” You watch from above, your formless body still haunted by this phantom pain. Pain pain, go away. Come again another day. This melody sounds familiar, but where- Another spike cuts your thoughts as a blade cuts one of Rarity’s ‘tomatoes.’ ”Alright Anon, you win. Just come out already.” You focus your mind, your body shifting back down to the surface just outside the alleyway. You rub your head, the pain gone as swiftly as it came, most unpleasant. Alas, Ms. Dash requested your audience, and your audience she shall have. “Good morning,” you smile. She scrunches her nose and punches you in the leg, “There, now it’s your turn to look for me.” You stare at the spot in curiosity. Why? “I do not understand.” ”Never played hide-and-seek before have you? I’d guess not.” “A game? Ah yes, young Scootaloo and I played a game of tag before.” ”Yeah she told me about it, remember? When we got you icecream?” Hmm… You still remember that tantalizing flavor it left on the tongue. Vanilla, was it not? “Yes indeed. Tell me, does this ‘hide-and-seek’ bear any resemblance to tag?” She nods, scratching her chin, “I guess so. They both are about-“ You poke her in the nose with a grin, reappearing a good yardage away. It takes her a moment to realize what you just did, but when she does, her smile could almost rival Pinkie’s. Not literally of course, no one’s smile is enough to rival hers. “If I recall, this means you are ‘it.’ Strange. The word ‘it’ is used in so many instances, how can a pony every differentiate between them? Besides the point, now where is Miss- Oh she’s coming this way isn’t she? Quite speedy, as you’d expect. But you’re faster. Just as she’s about to hit you, you once again reappear ‘a ways’ away from here. A strange term that. She looks about in confusion, spying you at the end of the town square. “Miss Dash, why might people say ‘A ways’ to clarify distance. Would not speaking the length be more accurate?” ”I’ll show you a ways!” she exclaims, boosting down to you. That is most kind of her to do so, but how would you show a term for distance? You snap your fingers, realizing her meaning. “You feel frustrated, but instead of- My my, you’ve gotten close.” For a final time the wind funnels around you, your butt now seated atop of the Town Hall. It has quite the view indeed. You aren’t so much viewing down on the world, as a hawk views its prey, but you see the world at an angle, as you would a hilltop. ”Stop doing that!” she shouts again, looking around for you. “But instead of dealing with your frustration,” you continue, “You use my own words to lash out at me. Curious indeed.” It is a mortal thing, to grow frustrated with one’s performance and then to lash out at others. Then why did you do so much to Twilight? Back when Trixie came to town a week before, you had a, a ‘fit’, as they would call it. A form of disobedience left for a child, not for something like you. You were frustrated to lose that world, the illusion, and so, Twilight became your host for this lashing. It… is not a thought you wish to dwindle on. That world… It is to blame, not you. That voice- Your hand clenches your pants as the pain returns. ”You alright?” Rainbow Dash asks now hovering before you, her eyes traveling down to your hand, “What’s the matter?” Always with the questions, her and Twilight alike. Perhaps you should- End her. No. Your grip tightens, though you force a smile towards the Pegasus. “Odd, how often that question has floated over me the last few days. As you know, no harm shall come to me.” ”That doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about you,” she sits beside you, laying a hoof on your hand, “Can’t you tell me what’s going on?” You hold her hoof in your palm, your thumb caressing the soft hairs that line its form. “Warm… No, Miss Dash, I am afraid this is not something you can help me with.” Perhaps if she were older, more mature… Like Twilight. ”Why not? You’re here because of me, right? If you hadn’t, helped me,” her voice cracking at this, “Then you wouldn’t be here like this. I’m responsible, so let me take responsibility.” Admirable, but she is not the type who is best suited for these matters. “You are a wonderful chauffeur, Miss Dash, and each time I ‘hang’ with you is a moment that I would wish could last an eternity.” ”But then why won’t you let me help? I know more about you than anyone else. I know what you are, and I know WHO you are.” Who. Who? Who are you then? If only you knew. But you know where to find out. I’m not going there. He has the answers- Not the ones you seek. Your hand leaves her hoof, caressing your forehead, “You may not be a pony, but I know when someone’s in pain. Let me help you.” “I said-“ you stop yourself midshout, turning away from her, “I said… You cannot help me. Perhaps Twilight can.” ”Twilight? You think Twilight can help you, but not me. Why?” Her anger is somewhat of a conundrum. Does she feel inadequate next to her friend? “Wine, Miss Dash, matures through an age, reaching its full potential when left to develop.” ”So you’re trying to say that Twilight is a better wine than me.” Yes and no. How does one explain it? “I am saying that Miss Sparkle is not a wine at all, and that in time, you might learn to mature far more than she can ever hope. Hmm… I do not think I explained it adequately, let me try again…” ”That’s alright,” Rainbow Dash looks away, “She is more grown-up than me, isn’t she? While she sits and studies like an egghead, I play games with Death.” Regret, an emotion all too easy to spot. How many eyes have told you this as you took them, wishing they could redo the past. “And enjoy those games, I do,” you tilt her head toward you with a smile. ”Not growing-up isn’t all bad.” No. In fact, it can be rather enjoyable. But that pain begins to fester once more, “It hurts again doesn’t it?” “Nothing that Anonymous cannot handle.” ”If you ever need someone-” You’re gone before she can finish, but you linger a moment yet. “I will always count on you, Dash.” It has been some time since you last watched from above, three weeks it must be now. What progress you’ve made. If not for these incessant headaches… this trip would be without flaw. A ‘bump on the road’ here and there, but when the coffin is nailed shut, you have been relatively… “Happy.” You glide down to the surface, Scootaloo riding along with some of her friends, off to find their cutie marks you presume. Moving along you find others as well. Throw Fibble shows his kids down the street before wishing them a good day at school. Kim Marmalade is watering her garden, the sun reflecting through the water’s trail letting a glimmer of light grace your view. But then… they are not cupcake flowers. You force yourself away, finding it best not to dwell on such things. This is the real world. Then why do you long for- You do not, not anymore. Keep telling yourself that. I shall. At last you reach Twilight’s abode, knocking on her door, your hand lingering as the vibrations course through it. You wish you had time to savor it, but the door opens, “Hey Anon. Are you here to see Twilight?” “Yes indeed, mister Spike. Might I enter?” The dragon looks over his shoulder and nods, “Twilight’s a little busy right now. Maybe you can come back later?” Busy?! How dare she deny you?! You could slip away with her soul with a simple thought and she dares- You’re so angry… “TELL HER-” you pause, Spike’s head slouching backwards in fear. You raise your hand before you and unclench your fist. These, emotions, are growing out of hand… “Tell her, it is important.” ”Just one- just one second,” he closes the door. You turn and look once more to your hands, a feeling of… anxiety, causing you- No. You do not feel this, thing. For death to fear, is for the world to crumble. ”Anon,” Spike calls for you, “Twilight’s inside. Think we can get ice cream later?” “Perhaps, you have my thanks.” Spike holds the door open for you as he leaves, Twilight standing at the far end of the room with a table and some books. Twilight’s ears perk when she hears the door close, “So… You finally decided to see me.” “We left on, less than proper terms. I was not myself.” When can you ever be yourself in front of them? Never. They shan’t know of you. ”You don’t have to tell me,” her gaze never leaves her work, “When you spend a week waiting someone to show up, you have time to think about what’s been said.” Time. All the time in the world cannot solve the mystery that is, this interaction these mortals converse in. “What garners your interest so?” the book she reads must be so important for her to not give you so much as a glance. ”Why you even bother to show up, for one, but that’s not what you meant, is it? You don’t even care how you make others feel.” And where might she have gathered this information from? This book? It spreads lies and slander. “Miss Sparkle, my intention was never to cause you or any of your fellow ponies distress. I only wish to-“ ”Vacation, you told me as such.” Your fist clenches in an instant at her interruption. “Look upon me when you speak!” you demand, staying your mind all too late, “I… require counsel.” Death requiring counsel? Tis the end of the world indeed. You move to her kitchen, gripping the counter in hopes of subduing this anger within. “It is not easy for one such as me, to ask for aid. My mind has grown, restless, without order, a feeling which I find more difficult to contain with each passing day. A plague resides within me, I can feel it swell when I speak, begging to be released. A thousand lifetimes pass, and yet it is now that I feel such, weakness.” You turn back, Twilight standing next to you, “What happened to you?” You wish you knew, but if there is but one piece of advice that might work, she has it. “I am willing- to answer, some questions, Miss Sparkle.” ”Now?” “Now.” ~~~ She pulls out a couch from a closet, allowing you to lay down upon it as she fetches a chair. You recognize this scenario, the doctor and his patient. Twas a shame the doctor did not know the simple act of CPR. Perhaps he would have been saved. Regardless, you rest your head backwards, the pillow shaping to meet your form. ”Is this comfortable enough for you? Would you like a drink? I don’t have any punch unfortunately…” “Punch can be done without,” You wave your hand before covering your head, the light paining you to see, “Water perhaps?” ”Right away,” she trots off, coming back and hovering the glass into your hand. “So… Shall I begin?” “Yes yes, go on.” Twilight flips open her notepad, scratching her chin with the quill. An itch perhaps? ”How about we start over with all the questions, starting with what your name is.” “YOU KNOW MY NAME YOU…” Calm yourself, do not let them win, “Anon. Anonymous.” Death. Satan. Demon. Unholy Creature… Monster. You have many a name, though you only care for one. A pause. Hesitation on Twilight’s part, yes. The tone of your voice has that effect. She sets down her quill, “Why did you come see me today?” Interesting. Given the opportunity you would presume Twilight to make full use of it. But instead she asks not of what you are, but instead, something else. “Have I not expressed this purpose to you?” ”You said you wanted, counsel, correct? If you want my help, then tell me why you came to me in the first place.” When one seeks to help, it is best to know the problem, this is true. “I have… headaches, a fitting word, wouldn’t you agree? It expresses its purpose ‘to the letter.’ Did I use that correctly?” She nods. A strange idiom that, as the letter is merely a segment of the word, one that holds no value unless accompanied by its peers. You have no peers. “When did these headaches start?” “The first I recall, occurred when I encountered Miss Dash. She was, astonishing. Watching her fly was- is… a privilege.” To think, if you had took her then, all of this could have been avoided. Or all of this would have been lost. Avoided, lost. The same event, separate views. “But it was brief, and did not occur at such pace until two weeks ago.” ”When Trixie showed up?” “Yes, but she… she is not the cause.” ”Are you sure?” The doorway, the voice, that world… This pain… “Yes, quite,” your fist clenching as you recall these things. ”During the performance, I remember seeing you in pain. Is this the same headache?” “The very same, but not of the same ferocity. In the sea of numbers and such intense chants, the pain was of another quality.” ”Numbers?” her voice basked in confusion, “What do those have to do with anything?” “A ‘slip of the tongue.’ Let it pass into memory.” She leans forward, “All good things come to those who wait. So since then, how many of these headaches have you had?” A number, how ironic, if you understand that correctly. “Too many,” her words piercing your mind, “Ten or more times.” ”That doesn’t seem so bad. If anything it might be stress.” “A day, Ms. Sparkle. Whenever I think of that place. It- returns…” You press the glass against your nose, drowning the sting before it can reach you. ”What place are you talking about?” Is there any other? Of course. There is more than one realm in this world. The light, the dark, the one where you now sit… and the mind. You thought it to be a mere fable, these dreams, much in the same way the Mare in the Moon was for their people. How wrong you were… “My mini-Equestria as Dash spoke of it. A dream. Nightmare.” ”So you do sleep after all,” she nods, “You really didn’t know what sleep was before, did you?” You shake your head. If you reveal anything, perhaps that would be the least intrusive. “I am not like you, nor any of the creatures that occupy this realm. I am… different.” Picking her quill back up she begins to write, “Tell me more about this dream. The nightmare.” “An illusion of perfection,” you stand up, unable to cope on your back, “It was the world as I had always hoped. It bent to my word, feats beyond my power now at my fingertips, I was-“ You pause, gritting your teeth and leaning against the wall, even the silence beginning to pound in your mind. ”Do you-“ “Silence!” you press your head against the wood, the stale texture rubbing against your skin. It splinters at your touch, chips of it left sticking to your skull as you retreat, the pain receded. “My words are not my own,” you explain, preparing for the next wave, “They come from an anger within me, though its source eludes me.” ”Do you think,” Twilight’s voice on the edge of fear, “That it has to do with this dream?” Whoever resides within you. He is the culprit. “Yes, I do believe that it is the cause.” ”Just give me a second,” she pops out of her chair, sifting through the books that line her walls. “Time is one thing I cannot give, Twilight, not in the sense you speak of.” A lease, so to speak, a temporary lift on their inevitable end. That is all you can give. ”It’s just a saying. Haven’t you been trying to practice those?” Of course you have. It is one step to becoming more, human. “It comes again, why am I afflicted so? Does it have something to do with this ‘human’ word that plagues me?” ”Human?” her eyes scanning another book like a general would his battlefield, “I’ve never heard anything of that. It’s probably nothing.” Nothing, of course. It is but one word of millions, but then again… It is the only one that harasses you. ”I have to say, I’ve read many journals pertaining to cases like yours. I used to get headaches myself, but that’s just because I read so much.” “A hobby of the mind. To devour information, not for use, but for storage. Why do this?” She smiles, likely attempting to word it properly, “Don’t you ever just feel like- feel like you NEED to know more? Haven’t you felt the urge to understand the unknown?” She cannot possibly comprehend, but you nod, as it would seem appropriate. ”Well that’s why I do it. It doesn’t matter if knowing the lunar cycles or knowing when the first explorers took their expedition into the Everfree swamps, will ever come into use. I just want to know.” “A thirst for knowledge, much different from a thirst for water. One exercises the brain, the other provides for the body. Fascinating.” ”Exactly, but even reading all these journals, I can’t see anything that relates to what you’ve experienced.” Understandable. It doesn’t seem connected, but when you think of that place… pain always follows… and anger. “Might it be stress, as you had previously asserted?” She purses her lips in thought, “For the past week, you’ve just been around Rainbow Dash right? Have you two been fighting at all?” “If we had, she would not be drawing breath. She has tried to speak with me though, of that night.” ”I certainly hope you were joking about that first part. You shouldn’t talk about your friends like that.” You do not understand. Is it wrong to speak the truth? “I merely address the truth. Should anyone engage me in battle, it is likely that they should not survive the encounter. Is this, inappropriate?” ”Just don’t talk like that, it’s off-putting.” As she wishes. You shall try not to speak of such things. “Have Spike and Rarity yet engaged in coitus?” ”What?!” You cock your head to the side in puzzlement. Surely she understands what you meant. “I’m sorry I did not clarify. Have they mate-” ”I know what you said,” she covers her mouth, “That’s not something I *ever* want to think about.” Ahh, understandable. As she said, she is a sister to him and such thoughts would be inappropriate. “But have they?” ”Don’t think about it,” she plugs her ears, “Don’t think about it.” Why does she avoid it? Certainly one day he shall tell her of his ‘crush’ and should she reciprocate then they shall engage in order to produce offspring. It is life. “I understand that it is not an appealing thought for you, but surely it is not so bad.” ”It’s not just that,” her head drooped down in defeat, “The thought of him growing up… It hurts just to think about.” A strange notion, how thoughts can hurt. Of course, you should know best that this be true. Many a mess has occurred because a stallion had hurt the feelings of a mare, and the thoughts pecked away at her. You scratch your head the more you think about it, Twilight mirroring you. If the thoughts hurt her, why did she simply not think of them? Would that not have solved the issue? ”That’s it.” Then again, these thoughts were forced upon her, for every time she looked at the stallion, they would rise with great passion, so the story is told. ”You just have to not think of that place, and you’ll be fine.” It is curious why ponies would record such a tale. Surely they would rather read of a joyous occasion, rather than a tale of bloody passions. “You ponies write of the strangest things.” ”Did you even hear what I said?” Had you missed her speech? Ahh yes you had. ”Anon, if thinking about that place hurt you, just don’t do it.” “Do not think? Dear Twilight, thinking is what I do hours on end. To ask me not to think, is to ask Miss Dash not to fly, or young Pinkie to not care for her friends.” ”Obviously I don’t mean not thinking at all, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” Then perhaps she should elaborate her solution. ”Just try to avoid thinking about that place. Here,” she writes down a note, ripping it out for you, “Take this up to the hospital. They should give you a prescription for some painkillers, they-“ “No. That will not be necessary.” Painkillers. You will use no such thing. ”Just try not to think about it then, that might make all the difference.” Perhaps, though for you, it might be difficult to achieve. Regardless, you sit back down on the couch, doing all you can to take your mind off of that plac- Unn… What is that the children do to sleep? No, don’t sleep. Why not? You know why. Sheep, that is their point of focus, but why must they be counted? Does it dampen their active minds, lulling them into submission? Perhaps you might integrate this with some of the more… vocal, members of Frostbite. ”How old are you Anon?” You smile. What term describes how old you are? Eternal, yes, but that sounds too, boastful, if that. “Do you recall when I ventured into your cellar, speaking of the Great Divide?” ”I think I still have the notes around here somewhere.” Of course she would. Twilight is not the kind of mare who leaves such a conversation unrecorded. “No books have been written of this, for that I am almost certain.” ”But you said- Why wouldn’t we have written about it.” They were immature, too young even to know how ink can be used to paper. “Because, ponies at the time had no written language, no concept of how to record these events.” ”I… But that would… That would have to have been thousands of years ago, tens even.” She is not far from the truth. Hundreds might be more accurate a count. ”How could you even know this? No one could know that.” “Those who were there know of it. Though these creatures have long passed into Tartarus.” Human. What is this? From where did you come? ”But if you know, then that means you,” she pauses at your smile, “You were there.” “Do not make the mistake to think that I existed then as I do now. It was a different time.” She reaches out with a hoof, the limb shaking, trembling, “How do you look so young? Are there any others like you?” Perhaps she did not understand. “I did not walk upon the earth then, though I watched when my job demanded it.” ”Rarity said you were an escort. That you worked in Saddle Arabia.” “And there is truth in those words. I do escorting of a kind, true, and I have explored Saddle Arabia many times.” Twilight drops her quill, the feather floating down much like a ship floats upon the sea, “What are you?” You grin at her question. She is wise, but even she is not ready for such an answer. “That, is a question I shan’t answer. Not yet.” ”Oh my gosh,” she whispers, voice rising, “Oh my gosh! By Celestia! Do you know what this means?” It… means that she knows of your age. The reason for her excitement eludes you. ”Everything we know, thought we knew, is fundamentally changed! You’ve lived through so much, there’s so much we can learn.” Lived, if only. When your heart begins its first beats, only then will you have lived as they do. ”I- I,” she looks around frantically before teleporting to her desk, unrolling a scroll, “I have to tell Celestia about this. If what you said is true, you could be older than her, than anypony in Equestria! Anyone, anywhere!” Perhaps. Should your memory not fail you, the sun princess was but a filly all those years ago. A product of…Wait. She writes a letter? No, this will not do. “Twilight.” ”How didn’t I see it before? The way you talk, how you knew Old Draconic. Ha, it explains why you have so much trouble with our language.” “Twilight, you must cease your writing.” ”All those ponies who I read about, you’ve seen them. Oh my… All the scholars in Canterlot would die for a chance to study you, but I get you all to myself. Squee!” Your hand curls into a fist at her disregard for your words. They would die for the chance? In an instant, you appear by her side, snatching the letter before she can say a word. “That could be arranged.” She comes close to tears at the sight of her crumpled letter, “What are you doing?! Celestia needs to know.” You shake your head. “But… You can teach us so much, about history, our history.” And yet, your own eludes you in the confines of your- Headaches… “Perhaps this was a mistake. Yes, I never should have revealed this information to you.” Her expression could best be described as, shocked, or perhaps stunned. ”A mistake? Why would you ever say that? We just want to learn. We’re not going to strap you into a bunch of machines or dissect you like a… an animal.” Then she has missed the point of your disclosure. Your reasons are more, selfish, if death can feel this. “No living pony, or creature, must know of what I spoke to you in this room. I do not wish for my actions to change the fate of your people- ponies.” ”But it won’t,” she tries to explain, “We just need to understand.” “Need? That is a fallacy. A pony needs food, needs water, air to breathe. A pony desires the house in which they sleep, the knowledge of their ancestors.” ”Anon, try to see things from my point of view.” “And then shall you see them from mine? No, yours is an argument one hopes is not used against them, for if you were to see through me, you would never have spoke of this in the first place.” She is determined, and no reasoning you give will ever be enough. So you must resort to her lessons in friendship. “Do you trust me, Miss Sparkle?” ”Of course I do.” “Then, for the sake of this trust, do not send that letter.” ~~~ She looks down on the table with a sigh, setting down her quill, “Alright, but I don’t know why you bothered to tell me. You should’ve known how I’d react.” But you did not. One does not know the future, even your own view is limited to their expiration. “One should know how a snake will react to provocation, yet the living are surprised when it strikes. Do you not find this strange?” ”Nobody expects to be bit… Ok. Maybe you’re right. If you trusted me enough to tell me, then there’s a reason you didn’t trust them.” Hmm, that analysis is close enough to the truth. The two of you return to the couch, the ‘steam’ out of Twilight Sparkle. “I had hoped you would understand. This is why I speak to you, and not the others.” ”Does anyone else know? I can’t imagine you would tell Rarity, but Applejack and Pinkie would take your secret to the grave.” And they would, for if they broke their silence- Do not think like that. Why? Because you promised. Boo hoo. Quiet. “Only one, Miss Dash.” ”Dash? You mean Rainbow Dash? Why? I don’t mean to sound rude, but she isn’t exactly the type you’d confide in.” That is why you came to Twilight, but that is not to say Rainbow Dash is not without her strengths. “Do you forget so easily which element she represents? Loyalty, to stay by your side through ‘thick and thin.’” ”But she’s just so…” Confusion riddles her mind, questioning your choices no doubt. “Ms. Dash knows more of me than even you, though she has only inferred my age. We have an… interesting relationship.” ”Oh… congratulations.” You raise a brow at her well wishes. “I do not follow.” ”I assumed… Oh Twilight you’re such a fool. I thought the two of you… you know,” Twilight says with reddened cheeks. I know? What do I know? Perhaps that- Perhaps. “You believe we engaged in-“ ”Please don’t say that word.” … “Coitus?” ”Well don’t say it!” She grimaces at the word, “But yes, that. I just assumed you two were a couple.” Hmm, strange how their minds can assume so much. ~~~ Twilight and yourself spend an hour more speaking ‘idle gossip,’ leaving the details of your existence for another time. It is rather refreshing to have Twilight simply act ‘down to earth,’ as Applejack would describe it. Though try as you might, your mind always wanders back to that place, the headache returning with gusto. “Twilight,” you contain this unpleasant feeling, “How is it that you deal with anger?” The smile on her face fades, “You’re thinking about it again aren’t you?” You merely nod. ”I told you not to do that. No pony wants to see their friend in pain.” “True, but to expect perfection is to expect the impossible. In the case of my… headaches, anger comes shortly after. So I ask, how do you contain it?” She leans forward with a smile, “Anon, anger isn’t something you can contain, like an experiment or a flu. It only builds up inside you until you can’t take it anymore.” You hear her, but she assumes that anger is something all things share. It is not. Anger is new for you. ”You need to let it go. I do it by realizing that I’m not really angry, and that the things that try to make me angry aren’t all that important.” This you are familiar with, but it is only after your outburst does your conscious mind take control. “I have spouts of anger, unprovoked, as you know. I do wish to apologize further for my outbursts, it is not my intention-” You stop on her smile, “I know. You didn’t mean to yell, it just happens.” Her grin spreads to you, an understanding of the most basic kind. “But these- these spikes of rage, they are foreign to me. I can be blunt, this is true, as one such as me must be, but this seething anger that infects me, it stems from another source. If I ever wish to be human…” Human, human, human. What are you? “To be human… I must purge this anger from me. There must be a mantra of some sort to subdue these fits of rage.” ”Anon, I don’t think you understand something. Anger, it isn’t something you can just get rid of. It’s a part of us, a darker part, but it makes us whole. Without it, we’re incomplete.” But you do not feel anger, not in their way. They have control, you do not. It must be eliminated. ”If you really are having trouble with your anger, the first step is to accept it.” No, you shall simply stop feeling it. This emotion did not fester for a millennia, so you shall bury it as you once had. “Might I obtain another beverage?” ”Some coffee sounds good right now, doesn’t it?” she grins, taking your cup. Should she bring you that putrid substance… “Haha, don’t be quite so serious, Anon. I know you don’t like it.” “And that is precisely why I shall remain serious.” She opens her refrigerator, retrieving a jug of… some strange white liquid. It seems familiar. “Might that be a cow’s ‘nipple juice’?” She nearly drops the jug, “Excuse me?” “Is that not what that jug contains?” ”Where did you hear that from?” You scratch your chin, recalling that pair of stallions all those years ago. It struck you as a strange term, but their language was not your own, so you conceded to their vocabulary. “Some stallions, many years ago. Killed in a stampede if I recall. Strange, is that term derogatory in any way?” ”I would think so, and it’s called Milk not… that.” Hmm, milk. Not quite as descriptive as the ‘nipple juice’ term, but as would be appropriate, you shall not call it as such. “I do not believe I have tasted this ‘milk’ before. Does this come from you, or from another?” Her face goes red as she takes a sip, “It’s cow milk. I haven’t drank mare milk since I was a little filly.” “Why? Does cow milk taste better?” ”It’s just- Actually, I don’t know why not. I guess it would feel weird, to drink another mare’s milk.” Interesting. You take a sip, the cold creaminess coating your throat in the strangest of ways. You smack your lips happily, quite liking this ‘milk’. “Quite delightful. It does not contain the ‘zing’ of punch, but instead it refreshes the pallet. Delectable indeed.” She looks as you continue to drink with udder satisfaction, “How can you have lived so long, and yet never had milk? That confounds me.” “To live, and yet not lived. I am a walking quandary, am I not?” ”You really are,” she giggles, covering her mouth, “Oops, you have a mustache.” “Moustache,” you clarify, the two of you sharing yet another laugh. You wonder how long you can ‘draw from that well’ before it gets old. ~~~ The sun shines in through the windows, the orb reaching its peak at this point of the day. “Twilight, I very well appreciate the aid you have provided me. I feel, strange. Like a weight has been lifted from me. Do I appear thinner?” She laughs it off with a hoof, “You just feel relieved. I take it you’re trying to escape from my clutches?” “From what clutches do you imply?” raising a brow. ”Nothing, Anon. Do you think we can talk more tomorrow? I’d like to discuss some things you might be able to help me with.” You bow, a lesson taken from Rarity. It also allows you to stretch your back which produces a sensation all on its own. “I will aid you as far as my conscience will allow, not further.” Conscience? Keep telling yourself that. One day it will be true. Sure. She holds the door open for you as you exit, “Oh Anon, have you seen Fluttershy recently?” Fluttershy. Fluttershy. Yes, of course, the Pegasus. How could you have forgotten the kindness she has shown you. No other has offered you shelter in their dwelling, not even Ms. Dash. Why has she not asked you, you wonder. “I have not had recent contact with her, no. Does she bode well?” ”Yeah, she asked me the last time I saw her to send you her way.” The last time you saw Miss Fluttershy, it was at Trixie’s- Don’t think of it. Good, very good. “Why have I been summoned?” ”She wouldn’t tell me, strangely enough. She just said it was personal.” Personal matters are best left to those closest to you, not someone you met two weeks ago. ”Do you have any idea why she might want to see you?” “Perhaps she seeks to restate her offer. Alas, her motives are as mysterious to me as my own are to you.” ”Speaking of that… You aren’t going to, hurt anypony, are you?” “And why might I do that?” She scratches her head, “The way you talk sometimes makes you seem a little, dark.” Your profession is certainly not one of light, but you smile at her in reassurance. “Trouble is not on my list, and I should hope, that it is not on yours as well.” She seems to understand what you mean with a nod, “I’ll catch you later then?” “Catch?” Twilight chuckles and shakes her head, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Anon.” You are much too heavy to catch. The shifting of branches steals your attention, a pony bolting out of sight from the top of Twilight’s library. Eavesdroppers, such a shame that the only joy one can receive is by spying on others. ”Afternoon, Anon.” “Good day,” you respond to the passerby as you make your way around the corner, envisioning Fluttershy’s cottage. With a swift gust of wind, you find yourself there and walk up the steps. Already the musty scent of animals is drawn in, the smell seemingly coating your nostrils. It is different, yes. Disagreeable , sure, but there is also a familiarity to it. A sense of belonging. A hiss sounds below you, followed shortly by a swipe at your foot. As you look down, you spot the furry paw recede back into the bushes, a pair of eyes glaring up at you. “Do not tempt me creature,” you hiss back, not in any mood to deal with an animal’s rage. As you are about to knock, the door opens wide, Fluttershy gasping and falling back. Her mane covers her face as she shudders, finally peeking out at you, “A-anon?” “Fluttershy,” you extend a hand, “Wonderful day, wouldn’t you agree?” ”I wasn’t expecting you,” you help her up, Fluttershy clasping a basket to her back, “You startled me.” “It seems I have a tendency to appear at your inconvenience. Twilight spoke that you wished to see me?” Her eyes light up, “Oh yes. It had been a while since you visited. I was just getting ready to have a picnic, would you umm- like to come?” A picknick? It is unfortunate you do not have a pick, nor do you know how you would nick with it. Truly a tragedy. “I come woefully unequipped for such a venture,” you admit, Fluttershy finishing strapping on her basket. ”Oh, that’s alright. I brought enough for two.” A mare that comes prepared. You would hope it ends up much better for Fluttershy than it did that other mare. “Then, dear Fluttershy, with your permission I would wish to join your picknicking.” She smiles from under her mane, “I’d like you to come.” “So it shall be, might I carry your basket?” ”No- I mean umm, that’s alright. I can carry it.” As she wishes, you shall not interfere. ~~~ Fluttershy walks along the creek bed with you in relative silence as you make your way along, over the bridge and up the hill. Their little group of friends consist of such extremes. The vocal and boastful Rainbow Dash, mirrored by the shy and humble Fluttershy. Applejack with Rarity. Even Miss Sparkle with Pinkie Pie. Each member of this ‘mane 6’ are so vastly different, it is a wonder that they even relate at all. But like the numbers that bind us all together, it is beyond your reach or comprehension. “How did you meet the others, Fluttershy?” ”W-who?” “Your other friends, Rainbow Dash and the like. It astounds me that such an array of personalities could form such a tightly bound bunch like yourselves.” ”Umm, I k-knew Rainbow Dash since I was a filly in Cloudsdale. The rest I just umm, met over time I guess.” Ahh, Cloudsdale, the city upon the clouds. You recall its first days when the first rainbows began to flow. It was such a disaster that it overflowed the sides. They kept the aesthetic regardless, and so it sits today. No deaths however, tragic. No, it is good that no deaths occurred. Death may be necessary, but you do not wish its approach. “I recall Cloudsdale, a beautiful place with its flowing waters and clear skies. Even then, it was no Bespin. There’s something about how the Sun reflected against the sky…” ”Where’s that- I mean- If you don’t mind me asking.” “Bespin is…” your mind falters once more at the loss of thought, but try as you might, it does not reemerge, “Gone.” ”Where?” “Apologies, but the thought was gone. I do not recall where it is, and now, not even how it looks. As if it was snatched away from me…” ”Cloudsdale is really pretty, but I prefer life down here. When I first saw it, it was so wonderful that I just had to sing. The little butterflies and bunnies would scamper around and they were just so adorable I- I’m sorry, I must be boring you.” “Boring? Nonsense. I quite enjoy listening to the ramblings of ponies. Your kind is… different.” ”Well, thank you, I think.” “And you are most welcome.” ~~~ ”Here we are,” she smiles, setting down her basket beneath the shade of a large tree, its trunk slanted overtop. “I do want to thank you for coming. Even with my animal friends, it does get a little lonely out here.” You would not doubt it. Animals might be swell companions but without contact with your own kind, it is likely maddening. It is remarkable how you kept your sanity for so long, but you must ask, can Death go mad? A unique question indeed. ”I know I’m not as exciting as Rainbow Dash or them, but- but I promise we’ll have fun.” “Fluttershy, why might one be around Rainbow Dash? To find excitement. Why did I wish to join you? To have a peaceful evening. Attempting to be what one is not, is a ‘recipe for disaster.’” How does one brew a disaster? Two parts pony to one part marriage? Add a dash of affair and yes, it will be a disaster. ”So… you’re fine with just, eating with me? You don’t want me to talk or…” “I did not come for you to be someone else. The true self is always of finer quality than the illusion.” She opens her mouth to speak, only to smile instead, your words taking roost within her. It certainly is a nice day outside, but surely this is not the place to go nicking a pick. The ground is far too soft for such labor. “While I do look forward to this picknick, I do not believe it is why you asked me here. Correct?” ”Oh no, I just thought, maybe, you’d like to come with me.” “Then perhaps you can indulge me on your reasoning.” ”Do you remember when you came to my house? It was night.” “Yes,” your smile fading, “Though I try not to.” Fluttershy undoes the clasp on her basket, “Well, I thought you would like to know how they were doing.” They? She can’t possibly mean… Your thoughts are stolen by the soft squeal coming from the basket. With great care, Fluttershy reaches in with a hoof, two pairs of wood paws clinging to her as she lifts out two Timberwolf pups. You take a step back as she sets them down, the images of their parents slumped together fresh in your mind. “Those-” you cover your mouth, “Those are not picks.” ”Of course not, they’re pups.” This- this is inappropriate. You are not to stay with them. “I apologize, but I cannot stay. Not with them.” ”Anon…” she starts out, but you don’t allow her to continue. “I do not think of that time because of these animals. Those two had parents, not as we would consider it, but they had a connection. I severed it that night with one stroke, one swipe, and they were gone.” Fluttershy shivers and closes her eyes, “So that’s it… You don’t care.” It was a mistake to leave them alive, they should be with their parents, not cut off between realms. “I made a mistake, it is not a prospect that I enjoy dwelling on.” ”They’re just pups, they never asked for what happened to them,” she nuzzles one of them, the blue-eyed wolf lapping at her nose. “And that is why I should not be around them.” ”That’s all the more reason to be around them,” she replies with barely contained… anger. ”Anon, you can’t just throw away your responsibilities because they’re not easy to deal with. It hurts you to be around them, but you can’t run away from this. They deserve better.” “Precisely my point. I am not what they- who they deserve. You are far more qualified.” She slouches her shoulders with a sigh, “Anon… If you didn’t care about them, then you wouldn’t have brought them to me that night.” You never said that you did not care, it is a matter of principle. “I can’t raise them by myself, and if there was somepony who could help, it would be you.” “I cannot aid you. Animals, do not take welcome to my company. No matter the size.” She lifts the two in front of her, looking between them and yourself, “Just try, for me. Please?” The magic word, as it is called. There is nothing magical about it, but you do care for your friendship with Fluttershy. She took them in without a second glance and you continue to run. Why? You were weak. You were afraid- Death has no fear. But you are not simply that. You take a knee, your weight dipping into the soft dirt as you present your hand to them. The pups look back to Fluttershy who gives them a tiny nudge, “It’s alright. Anon’s your friend.” One of the pups hides behind her hoof, peeking out over at you. Why did you expect different? You let your arm fall down to the ground as you cast your gaze away. “It is as I said, dear Fluttershy. Animals care not for me or my company.” You are their enemy, through and through, an inevitable foe they live to combat. You feel Fluttershy prod at your hand, but it is of no use. “I do not require sympathy, Fluttershy.” ”That’s not me,” she sniffs. Impossible. If not her, then who… You look back up, one of the pups rubbing its head against your fingers. Its blue eyes stare up at you before climbing into your palm, its rump finding rest upon you. “I… do not understand. No animal has ever reacted to me in such a way.” ”Chewie has always been the friendlier of the two.” You are confused, what is a Chewie? “Who is that?” ”Her,” she points a hoof to the pup now licking your wrist, the dampened skin sending strange shivers up your arm, “I called her Chewie because I found her in my closet one day. Rarity has been so nice about it.” So it is a she? You look to the other who is still hiding behind Fluttershy. “I see the other takes after you,” you laugh to yourself, raising the pup up to your head. ”He’s just a little shy,” she rubs her nose with his, that one apparently male. The female, Chewie, shakes her butt before leaping onto your shoulder, its tiny claws clinging to your suit. “Does he have a name?” She shakes her head and moves closer, the pup following close behind, “I couldn’t think of one, but, I thought that, maybe, if you wanted, you could pick a name.” “Me?” ”Oh don’t think I’m forcing it on you, I just…” “No, thank you Fluttershy. I feel honored, if that is correct.” You reach your hand out to him, “It is safe young one. I shall not harm you.” He whimpers and curls up behind her. “It’s alright, he’s a friend.” He doesn’t like you. And I don’t like you either. Chewie sniffs at your ear for a second before nibbling on your earlobe. Chewie indeed. “Certainly he will come around. If she did, I can have hope… Hmm, odd.” ”Is something wrong?” You try to contain a smile, but you feel the tips of your mouth curl. “No, nothing like that. It’s just… I cannot recall having a- a longing, for anything. Ever.” ”And?” “And?” ”How does it feel?” The pup yawns in your ear before snuggling against your neck. “Words lack the capacity describe it,” finger scratching her behind the ear. Peaceful indeed. ”He still needs a name,” Fluttershy petting him like one would a cat. Yes of course, you simply cannot refer to him as Pup #2, as accurate that would be. Perhaps, accuracy is not always a requirement. You listen to the pup’s breathing before a name pops into your head. “Han,” you announce with a sort of pride, raising your chest ‘to boot,’ “We shall call him Han.” ”Do you like the sound of that?” she asks the pup, “That’s a good Han.” She does realize that the pup cannot speak, does she not? Fluttershy is acquainted with many animals, it must simply be ‘animal speak’ if such a thing exists. You shall engage in the same behavior then. “Do you tire, puppy. Might you wish to join your sibling in rest?” Scooping her up, you set her down next to Fluttershy, her brother laying down next to her. ”Those two can’t stand to be apart for long. I’ve never seen any animal act like that.” “They have been through much,” your hand gently stroking the bark on their back. “They know to stick together, strength in numbers.” ”Or they’re just close. The love between siblings is so remarkable, but what am I saying? We haven’t even started the picnic yet.” She pulls out a sack from the basket, obvious signs of nibbling on its edges, “Looks like Chewie was at it again.” “Do you have siblings, Fluttershy?” ”I think of all my animal friends as siblings. Angel- You haven’t met Angel yet, have you? He’s a sweetheart, if he gets a little cranky at times. He’s the little brother I never had.” She takes out two rolls, a hay sandwich, some fish and a bottle of dark liquid, “Have you tried fish before? It’s a good source of protein for someone like you.” “Someone like me?” you question as Fluttershy hands over a plate, “In what way do you mean?” She chews a small bite of her sandwich, covering her mouth, “Your teeth. You have canines, like the puppies, so I thought you ate meat too.” She releases a small burp and covers her cheeks, “Oh my, excuse me.” “Meat hmm, I do not believe I have tried such a thing. Is it tasty?” ”Ponies don’t eat meat, so I wouldn’t know.” “But I do?” ”Umm, don’t you? I could be wrong, but I assumed.” Teeth never came to mind when considering your appearance. You roll your tongue within your mouth, finding these ‘canines’ in which she spoke. “Wrong or right, I shall endeavor to eat this fish.” You take a bite, pushing a hard circular piece through your teeth, “Oops, I missed a scale, I’m so sorry Anon.” Rich with Iron, if that makes sense, it has a delicate texture as well with a zest you don’t quite recall. “While it is not as delectable as a nectarine or punch, it has a certain quality to it. What other meats do you recommend?” “I wouldn’t know,” she admits. “Like I said, ponies don’t eat meat, but I understand that it helps certain critters. Soon enough, these little guys aren’t going to be satisfied with sap.” Brandishing the bottle, the two pups perk up from their slumber, almost tackling the mare for the prize within her urn. “Calm down, I have enough for both of you.” You chuckle as they struggle for ownership of the bottle, both of them getting their fill in the end as you finish up your fish. ”So how about you, Anon? Do you have any siblings?” “Me? That would a most definite no, dear Fluttershy. If I did… Well, why fret over things in which I have no control? Shall we do the ceremonial ‘toast’ to that?” ”We don’t have anything to drink.” Aha! No worries there. You clear your throat. “Fountain, appear.” Fluttershy looks… confused. You aren’t there, are you Anon? No, you aren’t. “Ah,” you force a smile, “A joke. I still require practice.” She smiles too, though hers is of genuine make, “Roll?” “That would be wonderful.” You lean back next to Fluttershy, the pups cuddled up between you as you watch the sky, oblivious to the observer, perched in the clouds. “So where do the pickaxes come in?” ”Excuse me?” “This is a picknick isn’t it?” She giggles softly, “A ‘picnic’ not a picknick.” “Oh… That proves me to be quite the fool, doesn’t it?” ”We’re all a little foolish sometimes.” Truer words have never been uttered, young Fluttershy. Today was a foolish day, and you would not trade it for any illusion or dream. No matter how sweet it may seem.