//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Of The Last Millennium // by BlndDog //------------------------------// Chapter 2 Scootaloo awoke with a start, barely able to breathe. Something was blocking her mouth, and she couldn’t see at all. She tried to raise her hooves, but someone kept beating them down again. She tried to roll over; to kick with her hind legs; she even tried to beat her attacker with her tiny wings, but her strength was still spent from the adventures of the day. Her teeth scraped against a hardened hoof, her attempts to bite down only succeeding in dislodging flakes of mud and straw that fell into her mouth. “Scootaloo, remember me?” The colt’s voice was confident for one his age, but there was no sign of malice. She could smell frosting on his hot breath. Though his voice did not calm her down exactly, it confused her enough that she stopped struggling. I must be dreaming… “It’s good to see you again, sister,” he said, slightly louder than before. It was definitely him. Scootaloo’s heart raced. She reached up again, slower this time, but her legs were pushed away as before. He had grown so much stronger in the past two years… Or had it been three? “Let’s do it this way,” he continued. “I’m going to let you go. When I do, don’t hit me or push me or call for help. I’ll explain everything. Tap once on the mattress if you understand.” Scootaloo raised her left foreleg and lowered it again, careful not to make too much noise. With a gentle puff of air the weight lifted from her chest, and the darkness receded from the edge of her vision. From the corner of her eye she noticed the outlines of the headboard, and she squinted as the moonlit window appeared. The neatly-arranged thatching overhead glistened from what little light they received. Perched at the foot of her bed was the outline of a great bird with two pitch black wings extended. With a flash of darkness, if there could be such a thing, the wings disappeared, and a pale pegasus colt sat facing the orange filly with lolling head and drooping eyelids. She spat the nuggets of mud onto the floor, and was just fast enough to pull him into a tight hug. It didn’t take him too long to reciprocate the gesture, and they remained in each other’s weakened embrace for some time. “Rain,” Scootaloo whispered. The colt’s ears were flattened against his head, and she could feel knots of tense muscles throbbing in his back. “Scootaloo,” he said in a voice that was about to break from sadness. “I can’t believe this…” They broke off and looked at each other. They had both grown a bit, but the difference wasn’t great. Morning Rain had let his grey mane grow out, and Scootaloo’s hadn’t held a braid since she came to Ponyville, but all in all they looked like bigger versions of themselves from a few years back. Then the colt fixed her in those green eyes, and the illusion was gone. Those eyes weren’t bright as she remembered, nor as happy. His lip trembled before he spoke, and Scootaloo wondered if he would burst out in tears and give himself away after all that effort to subdue her. “The griffins are coming back, Scootaloo.” It was barely a whisper, and he voice squeaked out in the end, but the message was clear. Scootaloo should have laughed; at the very least she should have put a foreleg across his shoulder and told him that nothing of that sort would ever happen, but neither her legs nor her throat would obey. “It’s worse than that,” Rain continued after a few deep, shuddering breaths. “The griffins are coming, and the Lunar Guards will turn on us, and a new Nightmare Moon is coming, and it’s up to me to stop them because no one believes me!” A part of her mind told her to laugh. Instead, Scootaloo rested a foreleg on the colt’s back, making him sag lower still. “What happened to you, Rain?” “They attacked the orphanage.” “Who attacked the orphanage?” “Griffins.” “In Canterlot,” Scootaloo breathed, feeling a shiver run down her back despite the sheer ridiculousness of the claim. “Griffins attacked Canterlot.” “Not Canterlot,” Rain hissed. “Just the orphanage. Last Monday, quarter past nine, they came in on a shadow and got right into the mess hall. A shadow, Scootaloo! I heard that some of the Lunar Guards can do that, but these were ten huge Griffins rising out of one shadow! It looked like the floor was painted black, that shadow was so dark! I was just doing rounds with Dawn, and there they were…” “Shining Dawn?” Scootaloo interrupted. Suddenly she was pushed onto her back, and for the second time that night a muddy hoof was shoved in her mouth. After five seconds of silence (broken only by her own racing heart), Rain retreated to his part of the bed. “Shining Dawn,” he sighed, looking down at his hooves. “It was his last night there; he was moving out in the morning! He was right behind me. I flew away to alert everyone. When I made it to Gari’s room, Dawn wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t even make a sound! They found his body in the morning, along with three others. They got Swift Fog too, Scootaloo!” She felt bile rising in her stomach, and had to put her head down to stop the spinning. The colt babbled on, but she her mind filtered out his words. What she could process painted a grim enough image. Like many children she had heard tales of the Griffins’ brutality of old. They’ll drop out of the sky on a fine, cloudless day… They slaughtered the mares and the stallions, whoever they could get their claws on. They brought their own children to round up the colts and fillies. Then, after the sun set, they had their victory feast… “Scootaloo,” Rain said in his quivering whisper, prodding her shoulder with one hoof. He was there, she reminded herself. He’s scared too, and he needs me. Scootaloo sat up again, putting her hoof back across his shoulder and holding him close by her side this time. It had the desired effect; Rain looked over at her, and she felt his shaking subside. “I believe you, Rain,” She said. Maybe it wasn’t the whole truth, but he needed to hear her say it. “You don’t have to tell me everything if it makes you uncomfortable; I know that you wouldn’t be here like this if you didn’t think it was important.” Putting on a strong face, she looked straight into the colt’s troubled eyes. “What can I do to help?” This caught him off guard. Rain’s ears perked up for the first time since he arrived, and his mouth hung open for a second before he found the words. “I have a plan,” he whispered, the intensity in his expression tempered by his young features. “I know where these Griffins are coming from, but it’s really far away. I can’t explain it right now, but I know that these griffins aren’t from Equestria. I’m heading to Horseshoe Bay, and there should be ships that can take me across the ocean. That has to be where all their soldiers are coming from. I’ll find weapons on the way, and when I figure out who’s responsible, I’ll kill them right then and there. It’s that simple. No more griffins, no more problems!” “Whoa!” Scootaloo hissed, putting her other hoof on the colt’s nose. “Rain, you can’t do that. You’re too young to be talking like that!” To her surprise, Rain shook off her hoof and glared at her with eyes full of angry tears. “Don’t tell me that!” He growled. “I don’t need to hear any more of that, especially not from you! I thought you’d understand, Scootaloo! They’ve killed my father, and now they’ve killed our brothers. They can’t keep pushing us around! WE WILL NOT…” His voice had been growing steadily in volume, but Scootaloo hadn’t anticipated his screaming. Resisting the urge to back away, she instead tackled him onto the mattress and did her best to clamp his mouth shut with both her forelegs. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. The colt struggled hard, but being at least as tired as her and quite a bit smaller, there was no hope of breaking free. “Calm down, Rain,” she breathed into his ear, which was twitching frantically. “You don’t want to get caught, do you?” His muffled moans died down after a while. Scootaloo tried to listen for hoofsteps outside her door, but the blood pounding in her ears was more than enough to drown that out. What would she do if her father walked in, anyways? The moonlight fell on the drawer lying on the floor. It was getting late. Still she stayed on top of the colt, her hooves slickened with his tears and the froth that had seeped through his lips. “Can you be quiet now?” Scootaloo whispered at last. He did his best to nod, and she released him. Her wings had been locked open the whole time, and she had to suppress a groan as she eased them back to their folded position with a pop. Rain curled up at the foot of the bed and hid his face in his crossed forelegs. His back trembled, and though he didn’t throw another tantrum the silence was punctuated with intermittent sniffling. “Rain, I need you to get under the bed,” Scootaloo said, placing a hoof on his shoulder. The colt looked up with wet eyes, keeping his muzzled buried under his glistening hooves. “You need to rest. There’s extra sheets and pillows in the closet, and my dad doesn’t usually come in here. If you stay towards the headboard he won’t see you. You'll be safe here, and tomorrow we'll figure this out together.” He nodded, and Scootaloo wasted no time dropping onto the floor and tiptoeing to the closet. Opening the door slowly to avoid making too much noise, she pulled out a thick comforter and a pillow. It was summer, but Scootaloo remembered Fluttershy saying something about keeping injured animals warm to prevent shock and figured that Rain wouldn’t complain in his current state. She slid the things under the bed and motioned for the colt to take his place. Rain had just raised his head, and moving quietly if reluctantly, disappeared into the darkness below until all that could be seen of him was a pair of puppy-dog eyes. Scootaloo frowned. Going back to the closet, she felt around the bottom shelf until her hoof brushed against something fluffy wedged tightly between two pillows. Pulling it out, she examined it briefly in the darkness. The bear was missing an eye, and she couldn’t tell to which shade of brown or orange it had faded since she last saw it, but she knew that it would help him more than any of the nicer things she might offer. “Rain,” she whispered when she was once again standing beside her bed. The eyes were narrowed, perhaps out of exhaustion but suspiciously in her mind. “I have something for you. Do you remember Pebbles the Bear?” At this his eyes opened wide, just as Scootaloo had hoped. “Remember how you always wanted to play with him, but I wouldn’t let you?” She continued, noting the flash of annoyance in his gaze. “Well, I think he knows that you’re not feeling well. If it makes any difference, he says he’ll stay with you for tonight.” Scootaloo held out the stuffed bear, cringing inwardly as it disappeared under the shadow of the bed. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the dark or of Rain, but something about that particular patch of darkness made her uneasy. She almost expected to be dragged away when her hoof passed the edge of the shadow. Fortunately for her Rain took the toy eagerly, and his eyes disappeared. Scootaloo could hear him rearranging the pillow and covering to get into a somewhat comfortable position. Feeling exhausted herself and still not quite understanding the events of that night, Scootaloo crawled back onto the bed and under her tear-soaked sheets. As she fell asleep that night listening to the rustling of the strange guest under her bed, a tiny part of her mind reflecting on how funny it was that Rain used to sleep on the top bunk.