//------------------------------// // Time // Story: Sustenance of Hatred // by Wreck some Pense 40 //------------------------------// Time, like all cures, can harm as well as heal. The Beast hissed and snapped its blackened jaws, indestructible fingers of rage wrapping around the corners of stone as it pulled and tore another section of wall apart and raised itself from the wreckage. Its skin flickered with a dark flame as a grin split its face wider than should be possible. Beneath its foot was the still frame of a helpless orange mare, her forelegs snapped and oozing a sickly bright red. The Beast bent over, a flame-wreathed hand gripping the pony by the neck. A snap sounded over the crumbling of the wall. In another time not yet come, such a brutal death would be enough to shock the princess into freezing. This was not that time. The Princess of the Sun reared, saying something the Beast could not hear. All it knew was rage. Rage and hatred and death and misery and madness and rage. It hated the tall pony. It’s pure white coat, it’s wings that caught the sunlight and danced merrily in the winds. It hated her loving smile as she watched the lives under her care take form. She had no right. No right. No right to live or to breath or to smile. That smile. That smile. That smile. His feet dug into the ground, throwing himself towards the princess. There was a wall of golden light, sunlight. He slammed into it with his full might, and cracks appeared in the ordered perfection of magic. Dark cracks of madness and chaos spreading at the speed of thought. The princess flicked her horn, and a burst of magic speared into the Beast’s gut. The Beast rolled with the blow, black fire flying free of its hide, splashing against the tapestries that still remained within the throne room and igniting them in unholy flames. The Beast slammed into the stone floor before it stood, raising itself to its full height. Flames reaching ever higher as it inhaled, sucking flame and ash and air into its lungs. It screamed once again and the vibrations shook the air. The sun shifted in the sky, shining through the holes where the windows into the throne room had once been. As its rays touched the princess' coat, she shone with an even purer light, her eyes taking on a golden glow as she channeled the might of the sun into her horn. Eternal power and might flowed and circled her form as she focused the power to the tip of her body. The Beast lunged forwards, a growl on its burning lips. The Princess fired the full might of the sun. The battle continued. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Chapter 2: Time A week had passed. A full week. Seven days, seven nights, since he had been told of Roderick the viking and magical talking ponies had tried to figure out why he was so much denser than everything around him. Apparently, alternate dimensions (his favorite theory so far) could be composed differently, and he was ten times denser than everything around him. It wasn’t that he was stronger than he had been before, so much as it was that the universe he now inhabited was that much... weaker? Looser? Lighter. That had been the most difficult change to get used to, the density. The entire world around him felt like it was made of cotton candy, like he could just wave his hand and tear it apart. Then eat it. Not the best analogy. But everything was so fragile! Everything he touched he had to hold delicately, lest he snap it in half. He’d begun eating finger-foods as often as he could, so his new pony friends would stop feeling obliged to pay for his wreckage. He hadn’t had any meat for weeks, and was already getting sick of this vegetarian diet. He was not looking forwards to starting that conversation: ”Hey, would you mind letting me kill and butcher and eat one of your apparently sentient friends? I’m getting a serious craving for pig-flesh” No. That wouldn’t work at all. He did have a serious craving for bacon at this point, though. The week had passed in a daze, meeting new people (ponies) and trying to keep up with this strange new world. Notably, there was the purple pony Twilight Sparkle, who’d set upon him like a wolf with meat. Except in this case it was a curious pony and knowledge. Not a day passed without her finding him, wherever he may be, and hounding him with questions of Earth. Questions about culture, medicine, science, anything and everything. He always did his best to answer, but... Jonas was not the most scholarly of individuals. Twilight was. He’d seen the rainbow pony around town, and seen Rarity a few times as well. The pink haired (maned) shy one had disappeared after that first day. The pink one... He didn’t want to think of the pink one. The Apple family had been kind to him, opening the doors to their barn and inviting him to sleep there, on a nice little patch of dirt. At first he’d complained, and asked for a bed. He owed the Apple family a new bed, now. After two days of lazing about, wandering around town and getting used to the fact that he was (probably) not hallucinating, and he was itching to do something. So, he reached an agreement with Applejack, the hard-working cowpony who wore a stetson. It was telling that after a week of accepting the unacceptable, he no longer questioned the existence of pony headware. She’d driven a hard bargain, six days of work a week and rising with the sun, but it wasn’t like he had many other options. That was how the Apple family got an unreasonably strong human working for them. “Big Mac! This the last one?” Jonas Bailey, human extraordinaire, hoisted up another large basket of apples above his head as he called out to the red-coated stallion who was on the hill overlooking the orchid. The sun was well past the midpoint, hovering indecisively above the horizon, casting golden light across the land. “Eeyup!” came the reply. The red stallion arched his back to show his own full basket of apples, showing them off to the human on the hill. Jonas shrugged, slinging the basket of apples across his back. Before coming to this world, it would have been all he could do to lift this many apples with both hands. Here, it was less heavy than a carton of milk. But... he was getting used to this. Every day, waking up with the sun, which was much easier without the internet. Or television. Or Caroline... Jonas shook his head roughly, getting his mind back to the slow plod back to the barn. Sweet Apple Acres was a lovely place. It smelled cleaner than any barn he’d ever been to. The family was lively, always smiling and dancing and working and playing. Little Applebloom was incessant in her questions, always asking about things until she had them worked out. Then asking again when it was eventually clear that she’d misinterpreted every single answer. Applejack was... plain. She was simple and wholesome as the pie she sold. Stubborn and headstrong, sure, but... nice. Closest thing to a friend he’d found in the past week. Then there was Big Mac. He and Big Mac had an understanding relationship. Almost no words were exchanged and they spoke mostly in monosyllabic grunts. They got along quite well, if Jonas were to be frank about it. Things around here were simple. Easy. Weird, but easy. He could be happy if he’d just stop thinking about home. If. ------------------------ Twilight Sparkle, faithful student of Princess Celestia, groaned as she scanned the sheets in front of her one more time. Nothing made sense anymore. She’d quizzed Jon about every little detail about his world, and nothing made sense! They knew about magic, but they never used it! They had magic-using-humans, but dismissed them as folklore and old wives’ tales! Nonsense! She wouldn’t even be this upset if every piece of data she looked at didn’t tell her that Jon was the exact opposite of magic. He had nothing. No magic whatsoever, which was patently impossible. Earth Ponies, often misconstrued as the least magical of ponies, had a connection to the earth at the very least. Dragons were connected to fire and wind. Even a wooden doorway would absorb trace amounts of energy by being touched by a pony. Despite this proven and demonstrable fact, Jon had no magic. Even now, when she reached out with her mind, she could taste his influence all the way across town, which was a sure indicator of magic, but the science said there was none! Despite all this, she couldn’t quite describe the sensation she got from his... not-magic. It was something so foreign, and just wrong, that she couldn’t work out what she was sensing. Hence the extensive tests, and they told her impossible things! “Spike! I need another book!” her voice bounced off the stairs, travelling up from the basement to the baby dragon. “Which one?” his cry came back. “The ‘Origins of Magical Energies Volume Three,’ please!” She looked back to her equations, erasing a variable here and then re-adding it three seconds later when nothing made sense. He had to have magic. Had to. She could taste it even from this distance. “Here you go, Twilight.” She smiled gratefully as the purple and green dragon marched down the stairs, carrying a book half his size with great difficulty. She opened the book with a flick of magic, briefly scanning the table of contents for anything that looked helpful... ah, the intrinsic connection between magic and life. Perfect. “According to the work of Reignes Descoltes, there can be no life without magic. In fact, his work further postulates that the very existence of life creates it. So... it might be that humans project magic, but have no natural system for using it! But that doesn’t explain why none of my tests showed any signs of it to begin with...” Grumbling, the purple-coated scientist turned around to face her elaborate calculating machine once more. “Unless it was a mechanical error.” “Uh, Twilight?” “Spike. I’m going to need the pony wrench. Again.” With that, she set to figuring out what was wrong with her machines. For the sixth time that day. --------------------------------------------------- Captain Sky Hammer was a proud pony, and why not? He’d become the captain of her majesty’s most trusted, and not on the merits of birth or wealth. He’d scrambled and clawed his way to the top. The day he’d become a Wonderbolt? A proud achievement. Accepting the Captain position of the Wonderbolts? Even better. Becoming Princess Celestia’s most relied upon guard, the one pony entrusted with her personal safety? The most fulfilling turn of events imaginable. For the past ten years, he had been a step behind, and in front of his princess. When his lady had been banished to the sun by the nefarious Nightmare Moon, he had led the evacuation of Canterlot. When Discord had ruled the land, he had been the last of the royal guard to submit to the madness. Captain Sky Hammer was a rose-red stallion pegasus. His Cutie Mark was a plain and unadorned hammer. Today, he did not wear the traditional helm of the Royal Guardians. Rather, he wore nothing, behaving as a civilian pony, just ambling about minding his business. Of course, minding his own business was Hammer-speak for “Keep an eye on that freakish pink monster by order of Princess Celestia”. It had been a dull week. The creature had lazed about the first couple days before deciding to be useful, working on the local apple farm to pay for food and shelter. It was clearly awkward around ponies, especially given how much stronger it was than them. Over the course of the week it had left a trail of minor destruction. Little, easily fixed things. Chairs and doorways, mostly. It had gotten to the point that whenever the human wanted inside of a building, it would wait for somepony to help it open the door. It never went above the ground floor of any buildings. Last time it had, the stairs had simply collapsed underneath it after it got five steps up. He sat down, watching as the beast finished stacking the last basket of apples. The human dragged a forearm across its brow before looking up at the sun. It bent down, touching its toes. It kept stretching, twisting and bending and working out the kinks in its joints. Big Macintosh, the large farm-pony, came around the side of the barn. Captain Sky Hammer liked the red stallion. He was softspoken, did his work, and was clearly a family pony. The human turned, and Sky Hammer could see an exchanging of words, ending with Big Mac dipping his head in a nod. The human grinned, turned on his heels, and- Wow. The human was just gone. Clods of dirt ripped up from where it had been... it was running. Not just running like it was late to work, or a guard getting to his post before Sky Hammer noticed, the human was sprinting. It was heading for the forest, so nopony was in direct danger, but orders were orders. The rose-red stallion stood, bent his knees, and disappeared into the sky. ------------------------------------------ Jonas had no idea where he was going. He’d been packing away the last basket of apples, when he’d thought of Caroline. How sad she must be. What would she think? That he’d just disappeared? That he’d been kidnapped? That he’d run away? That he didn’t love her? That he was a coward? That he was pointless? That he was stupid? That he’d fallen and fallen and fallen and he was down, and... He shook his head, he stretched, he had to go. He couldn’t stand still. He needed to not think. So he turned to Big Mac and asked if he was done for the day. He was. So he ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran. He didn’t worry about the ground, he didn’t take any road, he just felt his bare feet (nobody was really knowledgeable in the art of cobbling in the land of hooves) dig into the grass and dirt, launching him forwards. He pushed himself, faster, faster, faster. He had to run until he was gone. He had to run until he was past all these thoughts, all these doubts and fears. He was at the edge of the Everfree Forest, and logically should slow down. He didn’t. He’d been in this crazy land long enough to understand that there was nothing here that could hurt him. He was a man of steel in a land of cotton candy. He ran, branches snapping as he plowed straight through them, brambles and bushes parting as his increasingly filthy clothes brushed aside the brambles. It was weird, thinking his absolutely plain t-shirt was as tough as leather (relatively speaking). He was running, the world was a blur and he could feel a burning in his legs. Suddenly, the endorphins of that brief spurt of adrenaline wore off, and he could feel his lungs again. Oh. oh god. He slowed to a walk as he panted with exertion, bending over, with his hands on his knees, he just took a minute. He felt better. Less sad. That was good. He’d run into the middle of a glade, with a temptingly cool-looking pool of water in the center. The trees here were imposing, their leaves hung menacingly and densely packed, the only sunlight coming through almost directly onto the pond. It was... nice. It looked so serene and peaceful that Jonas almost regretted his incredibly disruptive panting. Looking at the pool of water, he had a realization. He hadn’t had a good long soak in three days. The Apples had been kind enough to let him shower outside, using their hose, but no bathtubs in Ponyville were really built for the human-who-weighed-a-ton. But this pond... well, how much damage could he do to a pond, really? And that was why, five minutes later, he was naked and cold, standing waist-deep in a pond in the middle of an enchanted forest. He took a deep breath, before plunging his head under the water. It was like a kick in the chest it was so cold. His entire body was shivering as he thrashed underwater, feet touching the mud underneath him as he let the shock run through him. Finally, he threw his head out of the water, splashing water around him as he gasped for another lungful of air. He couldn’t help but laugh. This world was crazy. It was beautiful. He could do whatever he wanted. Things were simple here. If he wanted to run? He’d just go running. If he wanted to take a bath in the forest, nobody’d say no. He kept laughing, plunging his head under the water and running his fingers through his hair, scratching and working at the knots in his hair. The sweat and grime of working on a farm and wearing the same thing every day was washing off his skin, pulled away by the cold water. He surfaced again. He wasn’t quite at the center of the pool, but then again, he really didn’t want to test the depths. He could already feel himself sinking in the mud beneath him. He waded closer to the edge of the pond, finding a smooth, flat rock to sit on. He lay on it, squeezing mud between his toes as he looked up at the sky and let his mind empty itself. He missed his home. He missed Caroline. He missed his family and his sister, but he would never see any of them again. Laying there in that pool, he found that stark truth to be unshakably sad, the unbearable truth of this loneliness. He curled into a ball there, water coming to his belly-button as he wept. Jonas Bailey was not often an expressive man. His father had raised him on the belief that a true man is an island, self-reliant and independent. But his father wasn’t here. Nobody was here. It was just Jonas and his sadness. So he cried. He screamed and howled in sorrow. Curled up like a ball and sobbing. He lied there for two hours. The sobs eventually quieting, his tears drying. He stood, breathing deeply and shaking his head. His hair was half-soaked from where he’d lain face-down for a while. ugh. The sun was halfway towards setting by the time his stinking and stained t-shirt was covering him. He picked up his pants, suddenly ashamed of his nudity and the possibility of being seen, he threw the remaining articles of clothing on in a jiffy. With a stretch and a refreshed sigh, he started making his way back towards Ponyville. He’d promised the little filly crusaders he’d share some more tales of his ‘homeland’. ----------------------------- Captain Sky Hammer followed at a distance once the human was done with its little crying session. He couldn’t help but judge the tall beast for such a display of emotion. Hammer well remembered his own father’s words, from the first time he’d broken his nose. “Hammer, fillies have the right to cry and wail because they have stallions watching over them. We protect them, we tend to them, and we care for them as their guardians. What kind of a protector shows weakness?” The young colt looked up at his father as he sniffled pathetically, now doing his best to stem the tide of tears that threatened to join the fountain of blood coming from his nose. “A stallion, is an island. We stand alone, self-reliant, and proud.” Sky Hammer hasn’t cried since. So watching a human that even his Princess feared sit crying in a pond for almost two hours? Kind of disappointing. Her warnings had made the human out to be a barely contained beast of nightmares made real, of boundless fury and wrath waiting to be triggered, waiting to turn hateful eyes towards the innocent folk of Ponyville, which is when the noble Captain Sky Hammer would intercept, battling the vile monster to a standstill and- Focus on the job, Sky Hammer. The human was ambling, positively ambling towards Ponyville. Hammer spied a manticore in the distance, stalking after the strange intruder into the forest, but ultimately it shied away from Jonas. Interesting. Hammer stopped, Jonas was bending over again, doing some stretches... He was running again, and if Hammer was listening (which he was), he would have heard laughter (and he did). ------------------------------------------ “So Luke takes his father’s mask off, and they share a final moment together as father and son before the Death Star explodes, with Luke flying off in the distance. And that’s how the brave rebels defeated the evil empire.” Jonas was sitting on the floor in Sugarcube Corner, a mass gathering of colorful fillies cheering and laughing and listening as he finished his “Tale of his homeland”. It was really just an off-the-top-of-his head remembering what he could of the plot, but what little ponies don’t know can’t hurt them. “But- but didn’t that kill his dad!? Why would he do that?” It was Applejack’s little sister Applebloom speaking with tears in her eyes. She was a nice enough kid, if a bit prone to collateral damage in her quest (crusade) for a ‘cutie-mark’. A cutie mark was apparently those pictures on every pony’s flank. It apparently represented what that pony was good at, or what their true calling was. In fact, Jonas was now an honorary member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, with a little cape and everything. “Well, yes, Applebloom. But at that point his father was so corrupted by the dark side, he was going to die no matter what. It was Vader’s choice to die as a father, instead of a monster.” She didn’t seem to understand fully, but then again, having an Equestrian upbringing will do that. Though they enjoyed his stories, most of the conflict resolutions were a bit too... final for the fillies’ tastes. Apparently, ponies were used to conflicts ending without... endings. Weird. “But he wasn’t a monster! He was just confused!” Jonas sighed. Great. He was having a debate on morality and its relevance to Star Wars. To an elementary school aged pony. Not the weirdest thing so far. “He was a monster, Applebloom. That’s the entire point of Vader’s character. He was, at the same time, the hero and the villain. He became evil in his quest to do good, and eventually redeemed himself by saving his son and becoming a good man in his final moments. He’s a classic fallen hero.” She pouted. “But heroes don’t faaaaall!” Well, maybe not around here they don’t. “Ahlright, little fillies, time ta leave poor Jonas alone, we’ve got some questions of him our own selves.” Ah, there was Applejack now, followed by Twilight. Story time for the grown-up ponies, it looks like. He raised his hands, shooing the little fillies out of his corner of the room with a wave of his hands. “Right, you heard the lady, kids. Scamper off! Next time I might tell you of... The Lord of the Rings!” “You told us that one already!” “Well then you’d better leave so I can remember another one!” Ah, youth. The children scurried out, bantering and laughing with eachother as Twilight Sparkle came to a rest in front of the cross-legged human, eyes full of scholastic determination. Jonas grinned awkwardly, already wracking his brain to guess what she’d want to know. The first couple days had been nothing but questions about magic on earth, and she’d pushed and pushed and he’d told her everything he knew. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much in the mind of the purple coated pony. “So, what’s the topic of the day, o great scholarly pony?” Twilight had a scroll and a quill all ready. “Well, I wanted to ask about your ancestor, Roderick. Princess Cele- Jonas held a hand up, interrupting the inquisitive pony before she could get to any real line of questioning. “Yeah, no. Roderick wasn’t my Ancestor. I’m from German, French, and Spanish stock. I have no Viking blood in me whatsoever.” Twilight stared at him blankly. He’d used to many strange words about a strange land she’d never been to and never would for her to follow his train of thought. “Ok, we aren’t related. The only connection I have with him, is that we both found ourselves in the magical land of talking ponies.” “You mean Equestria.” “There isn’t any other magical land of talking ponies, so, yeah. I guess that’s the one I’m referring to.” There was an awkward pause. Jonas resolved to stop trying to be clever with words, because that never worked out. Ever. “Yeah, nevermind. Point is, I’m not related to him, since I’m not a Viking. What’s your questions?” Ignoring his awkward start, Twilight went right to the first, and obvious question. “What exactly, is a Viking?” Jonas shifted, feeling the wood underneath him creak and groan as he got comfortable again, taking the time to think of a properly scientific or Twilightific response. Twilightific. oh, god. He seriously thought of that. He’s trying so hard to be clever, and he just. god. jesus. ugh. At that point, he’d recalled what he could of Vikings and their history. “Vikings are... were... a warrior people from the north. They lived in the cold land by the sea, where the farms didn’t grow food as well as the people on the other side of the sea. So they would pile into their boats, with axes and swords, and they’d sail to those neighbors and burn their villages and steal all their food and kidnap the women to sell as slaves, or keep as wives. I think.” Twilight couldn’t help but flinch. After a week of long talks with Jonas when he wasn’t earning his keep on the farm or entertaining the fillies, he’d been talking about his homeland to her. It was still unsettling, to consider that a world could be so... callous. In Equestria, murder was almost inconsiderable. It wasn’t just taboo, it was... it was unimaginable. Nobody would get in a fight and say ‘oh, well, now I’ll just kill you then.’ but Jonas came from a land where that wasn’t just a reasonable conclusion, but apparently the most common one! “Let’s see, they worshipped the Norse pantheon of gods, Thor and Odin and them... uh, they were really proud of their fighting skills, and their skill at sailing. And... yeah, that’s about it.” Twilight’s quill somehow kept pace with his words as he listed off everything he could, before she pressed him for more answers, how long Vikings had been around, if they were still a nation, if they used any real magic or if they were just more stageponies like the rest she’d been told of. Jonas kept up to the best of his ability, answering each question as best he could and correcting her misconceptions when she got something flagrantly wrong. (Vikings weren’t a unified nation, but a designation of people). Then the questions turned to other things, like all the nations he’d mentioned earlier, Germany, France, etc. He’d explained the U S of A to Twilight before, as best he could, but he really was not (and he stressed this over and over again) a reliable source of information. Halfway through the latest round of interrogation, Applejack (who had passed the time chatting with the Cakes (the ponies, not the objects. (Duh.))) was kind enough to bring over a metal cup filled with water for Jonas to sip from. He was grateful, and did his best not to bend and crush the thing too much. For the most part. Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only one, the questions stopped. They were finally done for the day. Jonas realized he’d been sitting far too long. He unfolded his legs carefully, making sure nopony was going to be in his way as he cautiously shifted his weight to his feet slowly. If he moved too quickly it would doubtless result in a dent in the floor. Finally, he stood at full height, hair almost scratching at the roof. He made his way to the door, hand idly stretching out to grab the knob before he paused. His eyes narrowed at the door before he turned, casting a pleading look towards Applejack. Applejack wasn’t looking, busy as she was making small talk with Mr. Cake about something Jonas just couldn’t bring himself to be interested in. He looked at Twilight, who was similarly occupied, scratching down further notes and checking them against his own word-for-word account she’d managed to transcribe. So. It was just him. Him, and the door. In the back of his mind, he heard the fiddling of a banjo and the tumbling of a weed. He reached his hand out, gently, carefully... He figured he couldn’t do too much damage if he just used two fingers, and despite the logical part of his brain he wanted to do this. He was getting kind of tired of asking ponies half his size to open the door for him. He had all kinds of excuses as to why opening the door on his own was a good decision. Slowly... his pointer finger rested gently on the top of the doorknob. His thumb, moving as a pincer, gently touched the lower edge. He tried to turn his entire wrist to the side as slowly as possible. He just ended up dragging his fingers around the side. He was turning his wrist, not the doorknob. Ok. Not a problem. Just a bit more pressure. He was moving so excruciatingly slowly, it was maddening. But he was committed to this task, and would see it through. in his mind, the knots in the wood of the door were a smirking face, mocking his inability to open a simple door. The knob clicked open, and he was free. The door swinging silently inwards. He’d done it, without damaging anything or anyone! Ha! Take that, door! After a week of failure, success! “Yeah!” He pumped a fist into the air, and that was his mistake. It ripped through the wooden floor above him like it was a wet tissue, and he heard Pinkie Pie’s startled cry come from above. “Oh. Uh...” He pulled his arm through the ceiling as carefully as he could, still managing to knock slivers of wood down to the floor despite his caution. In the end it was him standing next to an open door, under a hole in the ceiling from which Pinkie’s excited voice could be heard babbling about the “Magical Fist-o’-Doom” trying to think of a proper excuse to give to the Cakes. “I can pay for that.” ----------------------------------------------------------- “Y’know ya coulda asked fer help with the door.” It was a long walk back to Sweet Apple Acres, when one had to discuss one’s inability to leave a building without causing an unreasonable amount of property damage (read: any amount of property damage). “I think I can handle a door, Applejack.” A pause. “I thought I could handle a door.” The next several minutes were spent in companionable silence as they walked across Ponyville. Her hoofbeats offset by the strange rhythm of his strides. He watched as the birds sang and swooped through the air back towards their nests. The sun was setting in the horizon, setting the sky afire with a splash of reds and oranges. At the sound of a cough below him Jonas realized he’d stopped in the middle of the road to stare into the distance. “Uh... sorry.” She smiled back. There was something strange about it, Jonas couldn’t place the anomaly though. It was an honest smile. It was familiar. Something missing. Whatever. He’d worry about it later, for sure. “No problem, sugarcube. Let’s just git back before it’s dark out!” It was a pleasant walk, besides the issue of the smile. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- She was sitting at her desk, a pencil clutched tightly in her fingers. He could see her. He was right here. He was just right here. Turn around. Caroline. Turn around. Caroline? Tears. She was crying. Shuddering with sobs that she held back. Why? Caroline? Why? Turn around, Caroline. Caroline, turn around. Caroline? The room was dark. It was their room. It was where he’d spent hours laying with her, hand playing through her hair as they whispered loving secrets and thoughts and desires for hours. Where he’d kissed her atop her head when she’d fallen asleep. She wasn’t asleep. She was crying. The room was dark. There was no room? He was further away. He was getting further, but those sobs, they were so loud. He had to hold her. He had to make it right. His feet lifted. He ran. Wind. There was wind. Whipping into his face, catching his brown hair as he struggled, feet digging into smoke and shadow as he ran. Caroline. He ran so fast, but she was so far. Caroline. There was a wall, and he didn’t even pause. His fist was through, he was through. Caroline. I never forgot. Caroline. I would never leave you. Caroline. Siphon. Caroline. Love. No. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* He awoke with a start, his mouth opened in a gasp, pulling dirt and hay off the floor into his mouth. The next few seconds were spent choking and coughing and spitting, trying to get the taste of hay and dirt out of his mouth. He rolled over. He was in the barn, laying to the side of the mat he’d fallen asleep on. He must have been dreaming. Again. Of home. It wasn’t like the subject hadn’t been approached, it’s just that nobody had any clue how to help. Even Twilight Sparkle, his go-to source for any and all information about this world had no idea how to break the boundaries between dimensions (Still his favorite theory) and get him home. One week. He was definitely under the presumed dead section of missing people. Wasn’t it something like seventy two hours before someone was considered a lost cause? He didn’t know. He should get back to sleep, but after seeing... He wasn’t going back to sleep. Up he went, groaning as he cracked his back. His face was smothered in a fine layer of dirt, hay was clinging to the side of his mouth which felt strangely wet. He’d been drooling. Great. He needed a bath, a real good bath, just like earlier... His eyes flicked towards the forest that lurked at the edge of the Apple family’s land. What was the harm? -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Captain Sky Hammer did not hate the human. No. Hate was something the Princesses would never abide. Theirs was a utopia of peace and harmony. Harmony above all else. Therefore, Sky Hammer did not hate the human. He did, however, hate having to race after the human. Especially after being woken from such a nice dream... Irrelevant. His duty was to observe and intercept if necessary. The human was tromping along the same path as last time, obviously heading for the pond. Great. More crying. Sky Hammer flew ahead, finding a more comfortable perch than last time, high above, well shrouded by the leaves... excellent visibility of the target location. Perfect. His hooves settled on the untamed branch, sure footed thanks to his pegasine sense of balance. He hunkered down, eyes narrowing as the human finally burst into the clearing below. It shed its clothes once again before settling into the water with an indulgent sigh. For half an hour they stayed that way, the human luxuriating in the water, thankfully not crying. Then, a disturbance. Sky Hammer’s ears caught it first. Noise, silent but there. Something big, too big to hide entirely. Predator. There was a predator coming to the water... He stood slowly, preparing to dive and do his duty. But... Observe. Then intercept. He sat back down. He’d see how this played out. It was his duty. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* This was the life. Sitting in mildly warm water, watching the first rays of dawn slide through the foliage. It was great. Jonas sighed as he slid even further into the water. He’d found a nice rock under the water, so he didn’t need to worry as much about drowning in the mud. Being dense was nice on solid ground. Water, not so much. He let the worries just take a backseat. This was nice. He should start every day this way. To just forget worries and cares and slide down till only his nose was above the water... comfort. He liked this comfort of warm water, watching the light catch and play against the green. A crunch amongst the foliage. Huh. A pony? He opened his eyes and sat up just enough that he wasn’t talking into the water. “Hey! Don’t come over here, I don’t have my clothes!” There was a long pause, and for a moment Jonas thought that the pony had left. This was followed by another, closer, crunch. He stood on the rock, the water now coming up to his shins. “Hey!” A head emerged from the foliage. A lion’s head. “Hey...” It was a lion. “Shit.” No. Wait. It had wings. Dark, batlike wings that spread wide behind it, but not wide enough to conceal the... scorpion tail. It was a lion that could fly and sting. Worse, there was anger in its eyes. It reared upon its back legs before issuing a deep-throated roar of challenge. Twin footprints embedded in the rock as Jonas leapt out of the water, terror filling his legs with strength. Naked and wet and cold he ran. The roar behind him told him the monster was following. “Christ in a handbasket! Why in the fu-” Something surprisingly heavy slammed into his shoulders from behind, sending him tumbling down to the ground. Rock and moss scattered as his head slammed into a stone. His arms were splayed wide from the fall, his mouth full with the taste of dirt. He felt saliva drip onto his face as the lion thing... growled. Nonononononononononono He felt teeth on his shoulder followed by bright, searing, rage. “GET OFF!” He rolled, hands pushing himself and the creature over, his shoulder slamming into teeth and feeling slimy tongue. No no no no- “GET OFF OF ME!” He was facing it now, knees and feet scrambling in the dirt as a hand found its way to the creature’s mane. The stinging tail whipping faster than his eye could follow, slamming into his arm three times as he pulled the monster’s face away from him. Its feline eyes, shining a primal gold, met his and for a moment he felt calm. The moment ended, and his free hand slammed into the creature’s mouth, fingers wide and feeling the sharpness of the teeth as he flailed madly at the creature, his mind consumed by fear and panic and rage. Four times his hand slapped into the creature’s mouth before he lost his grip of its mane, dark brown hair clinging to the sweat and water of his hand as the beast leapt away from him, disappearing into the darkness. That’s when he noticed the blood on his hands. Bright red. His blood was bright red. He didn’t know why that was such a surprise, but it was. His hand was covered, shining a bright crimson. That’s not good. He’s not supposed to be staring at his arm and marveling how much blood was now outside his body. He should... Doctors. He needed a doctor. Nearest doctor was a pony. What was that thing he’d thought last week? Proper pony-applied medical care? Yeah. That sounded good now. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* “Help! I need help! Hello!? I’m hurt!” Jonas stood outside the homely hospital from his first day in the land of ponies, his arms hung loosely at his sides. As he’d walked back to town, he’d realized that he didn’t feel hurt at all. At first, he’d been relieved to know that he wasn’t going to die... until he remembered the tail of the creature that had attacked him. Scorpion tail. Scorpions were poisonous (or was it venomous?). He couldn’t feel the injuries because of the venom(poison). He tried not to run after that, what with the poison(venom) in his bloodstream. Thankfully, the pony doctor burst out the door in seconds, stethoscope at the ready. Upon seeing a blood-drenched, panting human, he quickly realized his stethoscope would not be enough for the job. “Inside! Can you walk?” Jonas nodded mutely, trying not to worry about the venom doubtlessly pumping through his veins this very second. His legs carried him up through the doors, down the hall, into the white-washed room. He was on autopilot. Just don’t think. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everything- what’d the doctor say? “-happened to you? Sir? Can you hear me?” Jonas shook his head. Was he in shock? Is this what shock was like? Why couldn’t he focus? He was so scared. Why couldn’t he focus? “Sir! I need you to tell me. What happened!” He found his throat. It was connected to his mouth. He figured it out from there. “Manticore. In forest. Bit me. Tail stung me.” The doctors eyes narrowed. The demeanor of a professional accepting the terms of a job. His hooves passed over Jonas’ arm quickly, probing and feeling gently for... Lacerations, probably. Jonas zoned out again, mind going to a quiet place as he tried to not panic. Minutes passed, the doctor returning with a... showerhead in his teeth? “What’s the-” “I can’t find the injuries. I’m going to have to clean the area before I can apply any proper care.” Jonas’ voice felt very small. “oh.” Another minute of warm water on his skin. A pause, a moment of inactivity noticed only in its serenity. “Doctor?” “You’re not hurt.” That got his attention, snapping his mind from the stupor it had been in. “What?” “That blood wasn’t yours. You’re fine.” Relief and confusion were like old friends meeting on a train in his mind. “But... the sting? I felt so... numb and confuse-” Classic symptoms of shock. He’d seen it on television enough times to know. It’s always shock. Oh. Oh damn. The awkward moment seemed to stretch into forever. “So. If that’s all, I have other patients to attend to.” “Uh... yeah. Sorry.” It was the most surreal hospital visit he could remember that also involved a pony for a doctor. -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The sun was just dawning when their magical excavation was complete. Finding the cube had been no real challenge. A simple probing into the aether and they found the sinkhole of the cube. A place where magic was absorbed and drawn to. A place of ley lines and power. Luna had spent the entirety of last night digging the rest of the way, a task made more challenging by the presence of Canterlot built into the mountain. Labyrinthine side tunnels and sewage drains depositing the waste of an entire city-castle into the other side of the mountain. Now, Celestia was here to raise the cube. The eternal prison of the ancient viking, Roderick. Raising the earth around the cube was the easiest solution, moving a ton of earth to carry almost twenty tons of cube and Roderick... was not the easiest of tasks. It took her an hour of concentration, during which the slightest lapse would have sent her prize tumbling back into the darkness. In the end, however, she stood atop the mountain facing the cube. It was made of pure obsidian, a material known for its magical dampening qualities. Engraved along the side were two hundred and seventy six names. They were the names of the two hundred and seventy six ponies whose Princesses had been unable to save them. They were the ponies lost in the final battle against Roderick. Princess Celestia would rather have cast the cube back into the darkness to let it be forgotten once more... but there were answers that she needed contained within that eternal prison. Her hoof pulled free of her golden slipper. For a moment, she was a thousand and more years back, locking the cube for all of time. It had been so final, then. She had never thought that the ley lines would... irregardless. Her mistakes had been made. It was her duty to deal with them. Her hoof fit snugly into the impossibly small indentation in the center of the cube. Moving the center a single inch backwards, before turning. A gear shifted with the hoof. Followed by another gear, and another. Soon, a chain reaction was sparked. A hundred gears shifting and moving and twisting within the cube, releasing a hundred more locks. The cube groaned and shifted atop the mountain as its doors opened for the first time in over a thousand years. The air within smelled of death. As her light found its way into the cube, her suspicions were correct. All that remained within was a corpse. A perfectly preserved corpse of her... friend. It sat against the wall opposite her, as if he had been waiting for the day she would release him. His entire body looked like he had just fallen asleep with his grey eyes open. His lips were pursed together, as if he’d just seen something disgusting. Perhaps he had, in the end. His beard was as bushy as she had remembered it being, though unbraided. The hairs were cloud white with age but no less thick than she remembered. She couldn’t move. He still wore the same fur that he’d been wearing when he’d been thrown into the cube. The fur of his first kill in Equestria. A manticore. The sudden rush of memories from a time she’d ignored for so long was too much. Tears came to her eyes, and for a moment she was a young princess, trying to unite a war-torn and chaotic realm. “Hello. Roderick.” The corpse did not answer. She almost expected it to. She had her answer. The ley lines had been tied to a human soul. With Roderick’s passing, they had sought out another. There would always be a human in Equestria to shoulder the burden forced on them. It was a less satisfying answer than she hoped for. It was exactly what she had feared. Her head turned towards Ponyville. She had to talk to Jonas Bailey. To explain... to set things right. She would not have another human turned against her by rage. She would befriend him. She would shelter him and help him to adjust to Equestria. She would... She would come up with a plan. But first... a burial. A burial that was a long time coming.