Sweetie was strapped to a cold metal table. The room around her was covered in silent shadows.
From the shadows emerged a featureless pony, so drenched in shadow that it might as well have been made out of pure darkness. She pleaded to it, cried to it and begged it to help her out of these restraints. But it remained silent as it slowly walked up to her, until it stood right beside the table, looking down on her. It towered above her like a giant. even this close she could not make out any features. It raised both front hooves and plunged them deep into her chest. Sweetie screamed, more from shock then from pain, for there was no pain. She could not feel the dark shadowy hooves moving around her insides. but she could see it all to well. It raised its hooves again and pulled out her heart.
But it was not a heart. It was a crude contraption of melted cogwheels and barb wire that had been made into the rude shape of a heart. The heart was held in front of her, dripping oil instead of blood. Sweetie had stopped screaming and just stared. Had that thing been inside her? Perhaps she should be grateful that the shadow pony had removed it from her body.
But then the shadow started to slowly lowered it back into her chest. Sweetie cried in protest. She begged the shadow to not put that thing back into her. But when she looked up she saw that the shadow had suddenly gained features. White fur, blue eyes, and a purple curly mane she knew all to well.
The pony standing over her was Rarity.
***
Sweetie awoke. Sweating, panting and shivering.
It took her a while to get her bearings from what she wrote of as a terrible nightmare.
She hoped that it along with all the events of the previous day had all been one big ling nightmare.
She looked down on her legs, finding she had slept with her socks on. Purple and Pink striped socks the same color as her scarf. The scarf she had destroyed when...
The thoughts from yesterday returned like an unwanted guest. That she was a robot in disguise.
Had Rarity really lied to her? Or did she simply not know?
She had not been able to find a single picture of them as fillies. Or that they had once been in mothers belly. Not herself. And not Rarity either.
In fact there wasn’t a single picture of her parents. Who does not have a single picture of their parents?
One who has no parents. An orphan. Like Scootaloo.
Could Rarity be an orphan? Had she built herself a family to stay of loneliness?
Sweetie shook her drowsy head. That thought was absurd. She had parents. she had a mom and dad. she had lived with them.
Was it perhaps her parents that had built her? They do say that mom and dad makes their children. But sweetie would never have thought it would be with nuts and bolts. If that was the case, then had they built Rarity to? Did Rarity also have mechanical parts in her body? Did mom and dad?
The thought was equally absurd.
But it was the only thought she hung onto.
For the alternative was far worse.
Drowsy she stepped out of bed. And made her way through the boutique with these unclear thoughts spinning in her mind.
She could not be alone. If she was a robot she could not be the only one. Did Rarity have mechanical parts as well? She had to find out.
She sneaked into Rarity's bedroom. The moon outside the window cast the room in silvergray shadows. Her older sister was fast asleep in her large canopy bed. A sleeping mask covered her eyes and she emitted tiny regular breaths without snore.
Despite having an entire boutique downstairs, Rarity had a sewing station in her bedroom. Filled with fabric, scissors and cushions of needles.
She pulled a needle out of the cushion and walked up to stand over her sleeping sister. Even while sleeping her sister had a certain grace to her. Sweetie wondered if she was as graceful underneath the skin.
She raised the needle.
Rarity. As if sensing there was somepony doing a slasher impersonation above her, twitched. Her head rolled over to face Sweetie, as if looking at her through the sleeping mask.
Sweetie became petrified. For several seconds she just starred. Rarity remained asleep. But Sweetie herself was now more awake then ever.
What was she doing?
Needle still in hoof. She carefully backed away, and left the bedroom.
***
Sweetie locked the bathroom door behind her. Then she pulled up a stool to the sink and climbed up so that she could look at herself in the wall-mirror.
Her body had been stabbed with wooden sticks the day before. It was still sore and carried many scrapes and bruises that where hidden underneath her white fur.
Hidden under her fur...
She removed her socks and the bandage and looked at her fetlock. The gears where still there. The mechanical fetlock was just as black ans sooty as it had been the day before.
Not knowing why she took out a small brush from the mirror shelf. (the type of brush rarity usually used for her eyelashes) and started to brush the soot of.
As she did she could not help but to give it a more careful look then she had the day before.
It had a certain sleekness to it. A fine tuned braiding of synthesized pistons and hydraulics where her muscles should be. And every cranny seemed to glow with an inner green light.
She took note of the net of thin wires that seemed to be woven into bottom layer of her skin.
She stretched and bent her foreleg. Watching the multi-layered hydraulics tensed and relaxed in perfect synchronization with the muscles under her skin.
Because there where muscles underneath the skin right? Or how far did the artificial parts go?
She put her hoof om the hydraulic muscle and traced it up over the edge of the broken skin. She traced up her arm. Over her shoulder, her neck, her rib cage. Her hoof stopped over her heart.
No, that could not be possible.
She moved down her leg again. This time following a different set of muscles. Taking note of every string and curve underneath her skin. Only to find that even this muscle ended in an artificial hydraulic.
Even the smallest muscles and veins she could find where complemented by cords and wires. At no point where she able to find any clear point where the gears ended and her real body began.
She touched round the cylinder in the fetlock. Then she looked over at her joint on the other leg.
She felt around the joint on her good leg. It felt almost identical. Almost. if not for the skin it would have been....
No, that couldn't be.
Just to be sure she had to try something.
She took the needle and placed it against her skin. If the metal did run under her skin that must mean that if she she poked deep enough. Would she not come down to the inner gears?
She started pressing. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper the needle sank. She grimaced against the pain and bit her lip so hard that it started bleeding. Finally she had to stop, else she would begin to scream. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and looked down on her self inflicted wound. It felt like she would wave poked straight through her leg. But it was just a little scratch in the skin that had barely started bleeding.
She looked at the blood. The blood of a living breathing pony. How could she be made of metal if she was bleeding?
Then she thought. If there where metal under her skin. Where there blood underneath the metal?
She took the needle and started poking at the exposed gears. She felt nothing. She scraped harder and harder looking for a response. All she ended up doing was making scratches in the metal surface. Finally the needle dented.
She flushed the needle down the toilet. Rarity would not miss it. She had hundreds of them after all.
She then flushed down the old bandage to. There was more to be found in the locker behind the bathroom mirror.
When she steeped up to the mirror again she noticed the faint blue light from yesterday embedding the scratch-work. Like the metal itself was glowing whit some inner light. The marks started to thin out, and within a minute there was not a trace left of her self abuse.
She pulled out one of Rarity’s long hairpins from the mirror shelf and started poking at the edge of her burnt skin. She let out a yelp as the needle touched the sore red edge of the skin.
Then she poked again at the gears. Feeling nothing.
Pain – No pain. It was like day and night.
Step by step she moved up the leg. Poking like she was trying to give herself acupuncture. Every time she could feel the sing of the needle. Every time stung just as bad as the last.
She moved over to her other leg and started poking herself there as well.
It hurt just as bad there as anywhere else. She poked herself all over the body just to be sure.
She even went back to poking at the edge of her skin above the exposed fetlock. Trying to push the skin up to see in there where any muscles close to her mechanical hoof. but she had to bite her lip again. It hurt far to much to even consider. All she ended up doing was opening a new wound in the already weak skin. A small line of blood ran down her mechanical fetlock.
Blood. No blood. Feeling. No feelings.
She wondered. Had she ever bled from the right foreleg before? She did not know for sure. Despite all her crusading activities she had sustained surprisingly little injury.
No, she told herself. She had never bled from her foreleg.
She could bleed all over, but not from the leg. That must mean that it it was a prosthetic.
But why did she need a replacement leg? What had happened to her real leg? Had it blown of? Was that what had happened yesterday? She got her own leg blown of and they had to rush her to infirmary for surgery and leg-transplant and then put her back where she was in hope she wouldn't notice?
No. That couldn't have happened. Why would there then be a giant wooden stick in the leg. Why would it not be completely covered with fur and skin? And why would Scootalloo and Applebloom have acted so surprised?
The thought of Scootaloo tackling her go the ground returned to her. The looks in their eyes. That sudden hostility. How angry she was over the thought that she was a robot.
She looked into her own eyes. Really deep. They looked the way they always had.
Rarity had once told her that the eyes where the mirror of the soul. How could she not have a soul with such eyes?
She shook her head.
“Stupid Discord!” she cursed.
She washed of the bloodied hairpin in the sink. Then she washed her socks, who where starting to smell from her own sweat. (Sweat. That was another proof she was not a robot.)
Actually it was not just the socks that smelled. Her entire body smelled of sweat. Rarity would no doubt sense it and insist on a bath. And she did not what to run the risk of her suggesting she bathe her. Or worse, that they bathe together.
She filed up the bathtub and poured some soap into the water until It started to foam.
She hesitated putting her right mechanical hoof in the water. What if it got a short circuit?
Carefully she put her other three legs into the bath. Making sure to hold her mechanical one above the water. Carefully she drenched herself in foamy water. Rubbing it into her hair and scrubbing herself with a brush.
When she was done she sat down. She rested her right leg over the edge of the tub, only now noticing how tired she really was. It was the middle of the night after all. The water was warm and comfortable and she soon drifted of to sleep on a cloud of foam.
***
She awoke to a knock on the bathroom door.
“Sweetie? Are you in there?” Rarity voice called out.
Sweetie momentarily panicked. Thankful that she had looked the door.
With a shock she realized that her right hoof was under water. Sometime during her sleep her hoof must had slipped from the bathtub edge and down into the water. But there was no twitching, no sparks, no short circuit and no malfunction. The hoof moved just fine despite being drenched.
Rarity called out again. “Sweetie What are you doing. Are you taking a bath at this hour?”
“Um... Yes!” She answered and quickly got out of the tub. “Just give me a moment to dry myself up!”
She pulled down one of Rarity's full body towel suits and scrubbed herself dry in it. She quickly pulled some new bandages from the bathroom locker and wrapped it around her fetlock. then she pulled on her socks, which had been left to dry on the floor.
Rarity's towel suit was much to big for her. And it covered pretty much everything bur her face. She made her way out into the corridor making careful steps to not fall over in the big rug.
Rarity gave her a surprised look as she opened the door.
“Sweetie, are you okay?”
“Yes!" she said happily "The water did not make me feel funny.”
Rarity got a quizzing look but did not press the issue of why the water would make you feel funny.
Sweetie did not even notice she had almost slipped her tongue. She smiled like she had not done since yesterday.
Because if the water didn't make her feel funny she was not a robot. It was probably not even a prosthesis. Just some joke pulled by Discord.
As Rarity took her own morning bath Sweetie hurried down to the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast.
While eating she pondered over how she could possibly be a robot when she enjoyed these tastes so much.
As she heard Rarity coming down the stairs she shouted that she was going out to see her friends.
It was not a complete lie. She was going to see a friend.
She needed to get help with this. But she did not dare go to the hospital or to Twilight. They would ask questions and no doubt speak to Rarity at some point.
She needed somepony who was familiar with cure tonics and was far enough away that she would not draw attention to herself. More specificity she needed some-zebra.
Zecora. The zebra alchemist who lived deep inside Everfree forest.
Sweetie was not to found of the idea of going to Zecora. Truth was that Zecora scared her. Anyone who was crazy enough to willingly live alone in that dangerous place had to be just as wild as any creature in there.
Rumors said she summoned the spirits and hunted timber-wolves whenever she was lonely.
Before darting out the door she had enough sense to put on a coat and a set of shoes (as to not ruin her new socks).
The climate outside seemed to have gotten colder sine yesterday. And a chilling breeze had started to blow. She pulled her little pink coat tighter and She set a course for Everfree forest. (Thankful that they made clothes that covered both front and rear of the body. otherwise she would be freezing her blank flank off.)
***
Despite the late season, Everfree stood as green an lush as ever. Defying the seasons that changed around it.
Where every other tree had lost its leafs during the annual running of the leaves, Everfree continued to flourish. Its leaves never fading to orange and red. Sweetie thought that Perhaps it was because no pony dared to run into the forest shat its leaves never fell? Though nopony would be crazy enough to try. It was said that there where trees with leaves as big as blankets in there. Leaves with teeth that ate ponies.
It was a forest truly free of pony control. Just like discord. Perhaps he had once created this forest. Or perhaps he once came from inside this wiled untamed place? Spawned like an insect from some unholy cocoon on something, Sweetie thought. that would be fitting. for him to begin his life as an insect.
She cursed his name once again as she stood at the entrance to the forest. Its tall trees cast a shadow over the narrow path that led to Zecora's hut. She did not know what scared her the most. Everfree itself. Zecora. Or the fact that she was going to have to reveal her secret.
Applebloom had told them the path to Zecoras hut several times. It was only a matter of following the path and it would take you straight to her hut. Straight of course meaning along a path that wriggled more then a snakes nest. I fact the part might move just like a snake for all that she knew. Even the paths in Everfree could be seeking to lure weary travelers to their doom among haunting shadows of overgrown trees that blocked all view of sun and moon.
There where many stories of ponies going into that forest and never coming out.
Don't think about that now. She told herself. Just follow the path and everything will be fine. The part was safe. As safe as a rope over a pool full of angry sharks.
Even the climate inside Everfree defied the seasons. The forest housed a moist, warm air that would better belong in tropical regions then in a winter seasoned Equestria. Sweetie buttoned up her coat and let it hang open at her sides. If Zecora came from a warmer continent then Sweetie could see why she liked it here. More ponies would probably take resistance from the winter inside the forest – if not for the lurking danger.
She walked slowly. Crouched and weary of every shadow.
She was so worried of what might linger of the side of the road, just out of sight, that she almost missed what was right in the middle of it. A small bundle of blue flowers that had grown up in the middle of path. It was only when she felt something stoke against her belly that she looked down to see that she was standing in the middle of a bundle of blue flowers.
Poison Joke.
With a yelp she jumped out of the bundle. Applebloom had told her well enough about the magical plant and the cruel effect its poison could have on ponies. Frantic she began cheeking herself over. Just waiting for her body to suddenly change. But nothing happened. Her color did not change. No mane grew down over her eyes. No extra horns grown from her forehead. And her tail did not turned into a snake.
Why didn't it mutate her?
She looked down on her right foreleg.
Because she was already mutated. Silly.
Some said that poison joke was the creation of Discord. This had to mean that she had been touched by chaotic magic.
With this new found conformation of her condition she almost bolted the rest of the way through the forest
***
Finally she reached the hut of the hermit. The scary, angry looking wooden masks that hung like decapitated faces did not pose a welcoming sight. Applebloom had once said that Zecora put them there to fend of evil. Well they where certainly threatening to fend of Sweetie right now, with their evil stares and hungry mouths. No wonder Zecora never got attacked in her own hut when she had such scary sentry’s. No creature would ever dare go near anything so vicious looking.
She knocked on the door. Which gave way and swung open into the alchemists hut. Those masks must work even at night if she could sleep undisturbed with no lock on her door.
She remained standing on the threshold, looking into the hut.
Zecora's home consisted of a single room. More scary masks hung from the ceiling, alongside herbs that where drying. The walls where filled with shelves housing bottles of all kinds. A small bed made out of bamboo and some sort of palm leaves stood empty in the back. And in the middle a small cauldron boiled over a fire. But the alchemist herself was nowhere to be seen.
She called out for Zecora. Maybe she was out hunting timber-wolves again? She could not have gone to to far though, since she had left a fire sparkling underneath a big stewing pot. Sweetie wondered if the stew would be today's catch.
“Well what are you doing out here?...”
The voice appeared behind Sweetie so suddenly that it startled her enough to jump halfway into the hut and skittle in under the bed.
“...Beside hiding under my bed in fear.” Finished Zecora.
Sweetie poked her head out from under the palm leaves.
“Sorry. But you scared me You should not sneak up on people like that.”
“Little foal I did not sneak up on you. I simply asked a question, and you flew.”
“I sorry.” She said as she climbed out from under the bed.
“Do not fret my Sweetie dear. Now what burden do you bear.”
“Well I... wait. You know me?” Sweetie said. Surprised that the Zebra knew her name since she had never before come out here to see the alchemist before.
Zecora chuckled.
“Little one I thought you knew. The friends I see out here are few. But your friend Applebloom is regular due. And she very speaks high of you.“
She steeped closer.
“Now I do not think you came for my morning stew. So tell me what in your head brew.”
Sweetie chewed on her lower lip. But she had come to far to back away now. This was her one chance to rid herself of this problem.
She explained how she had gotten a bad taste of Discord and Poison joke. This was however not enough to convince the herbalist to simply give her a cure. The only thing she got from Zecora was the skeptical rise of an eyebrow. She did after all not look mutated. Unless covering up a mutation was the reason for the coat and hoofwear, as she pointed out in her typical rhyming fashion.
Whit great shame Sweetie removed the shoe and sock on her right foreleg, and slowly undid the bandage.
Zecora's eyes went wide. Sweetie backed away but the zebra grabbed her hoof and pulled her in for a close examination.
“Worse wounds I do have seen. But you seem to be part machine?”
“Yes. But its not a real machine...”
Sweetie further explained how it had not been affected by water like so many electrical devises normally would. Therefore it had to be flesh in disguise, she reasoned.
Zecora then asked about the wounded flesh in her typical rhyming fashion. Taking note that it was not magically mutated but genuinely burned of.
Sweetie silently cursed herself for not thinking this far ahead Of course she was gonna ask about the wound.
She briefly said there had been a firecracker accident. She lied about where they had gotten the firecrackers. Not wanting to ruin the relationship between the alchemist and Applebloom she said it was some early sample sales from the upcoming big firework show on new years eve.
Zecora was intrigued. She had never heard about a Poison joke victim that only gets altered on the inside.
But. If this was Poison joke she had just the way to treat it.
She pulled the stewing pot of the fire and replaced it with a much bigger cauldron. One big enough to cook a foal in. She offered Sweetie her soup while she filled it with water and mixed in some herbs.
Sweetie almost declined. But After the quick, meager breakfast she had eaten at home, and the long walk here, She was still kind of hungry. Besides, the soup both smelled and tasted good.
When she had finished her second breakfast Zecora told her it was time for a bath.
Sweetie had already had a bath this morning. There was no harm in another.
She removed the rest of her clothes and was about to jump in when Zecora said:
“It appears that your fetlock is not the only thing that has gotten a taste of the poisons evil sting.”
She pointed at Sweeties rear.
Sweetie looked back, and her eyes widened. On her flanks, right where her mark should have been the skin had started to preen away and roll up like the edges of dried parchment paper. Even worse was that underneath was nothing but a solid piece of blank metal.
The sight of it caused Sweetie to start hyperventilate. Her knees gave out and she fell down on her behind. She could almost her a metallic clang as it made contact with the hard dirt floor.
Far away she could hear the sound of ice cracking. And the sound of drums being played with ferocity.
No. it was not forest drums. It was her heart.
She put a hoof on her chest, feeling it trying to drum its way out of her. She smiled. She still had a heart that pumped blood through her veins. She was still a pony.
Her hyperventilation turned into laughter the cruel joke For that was all it was. A joke. Poison joke.
“It got worse.” she laughed “I walked through poison joke twice and it got worse!”
She had never heard of poison joke effects worsening when you dubbed the dose. But that had to be the explanation.
Even Zecora agreed that it had to be poison joke.
But before Sweetie got to jump into the cauldron they decided they had do do something about the wound. Sweetie could feel no pain now. But what would happen then the curse lifted? Much to her relief Zecora agreed to dress up the fetlock in a moist bandage maid of leaves and told her to drink the bitter contents of a red bottle. Sweetie downed the healing potion and then sank down into the cauldron. Trying her best to not think about being boiled up for Zecoras next meal.
She knew Zecora would not do that. But the situation called for such fantasies. Besides, she humored herself, if she even had been made of metal then Zecora would not be able to eat her anyway.
The water was warm and cozy. Cozier then the bathtub back home. Perhaps because she had just not attempted self mutilation. That, along with the soup and potion, made her drift of to sleep.
When she woke up she had the most satisfying feeling of rejuvenation.
She looked down on her leg to find it good as new. The wound had knitted itself back together and there was not a trace of any metallic parts. She hugged her hoof close, finding it just as soft as the rest of her body.
She looked over her flanks. Finding them just a blank as ever, but at least not metallic.
She thanked Zecora and headed back home. The socks she stuffed in her coat-pockets. She was gonna have to apologize to Rarity for destroying her scarf. But right now that felt like a trivial matter. She was just so glad to finally be able to put this nightmare behind her that the idea of facing her sisters fury didn't seem so bad. Everfree forest itself didn't even seem so scary anymore.
She started singing as she walked. This time more aware of the leaves in the trees then the shadows around her. Leaves forever green and flourishing regardless of the turning of seasons. Sometimes she wondered why they did not just call the forest “Evergreen”.
Anyway she felt great. She had taken two baths and eaten two breakfasts this morning. And she was finally gonna be able to put this nightmare behind her and never speak of it again. Like it never happened. And for that she was so very happy. So very glad.
***
She was so very lost.
In her sing song way through the forest she lost track of the path. How a path could disappear was beyond her. Maybe they really did move like snakes?
She continued heading in the general direction she thought Ponyville was in.
A branch snapped.
Sweetie froze in place. Wistfully she looked down on the ground under her. But there was no stick underneath her hoof.
Slowly she turned her head. And felt her heart stop.
Behind her was a wolf. A big gray wolf, easily twice as big as her, had appeared out of the bushes not five meters away, ready to pounce her. If not for the branch it would have been able to.
But the sudden eye contact with its victim made the wolf stop and hesitate for a second.
Then it started to growl and showed all its long row of teeth. Saliva prided down its maw as it no doubt imagined pony flesh for dinner. It gave up a roar and made the jump.
Sweetie answered with a terrified scream and bolted out of the way just as the wolf came down.
She ran through the forest screaming at the top of her lungs. Screaming for help. Somepony had to hear her. Somepony must have heard the roar and her screams. She tried running back to Zecora's hut. The masks would no doubt scare the wolf of. But she had lost the hut and she had lost the path.
Did this all happen because she lost the path?
She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. The wolf was tight behind her and closing in with every step. She could feel it breathing down her tail.
The wolf was tireless in its chase. Sweetie had run out of breath to scream. She was panting and her legs where tiring. Where was the path? Where was the hut? Where was anypony?
It felt like she was running in circles. Like the forest had trapped her in an endless maze with this hungry wolf. Why did this have to happen?! Why this day have to become a nightmare again?
Somepony help had to her. Somepony was gonna show up and stop the wolf any minute. Fluttershy was gonna give it a good scolding. Applejack was gonna come and buck it in the face. Rainbow would sweep down from the skies and...
She tripped.
A tiny root sticking out of the ground threw her of her hooves she made a somersault and ended up on her back. The wolf was over her a second later. Its pawns pinned her down and its mouth came down on her right leg. Its fangs pierced deep into her and there was a horrifying ripping sound of flesh being torn.
Suddenly there was a big clang. The wolf reared back and roared in pain. In its big open maw sweetie could see that all its fangs where broken. She wolf ran away whimpering into the woods.
Sweetie sat up. Shocked from the experience and feeling more rugged than the day before. She waited for her heart to stop racing and her breath to cool down. Though she was sure the wolf had chewed on her she could feel no pain.
She looked down on her leg. And confirmed her worst fears.
The gears where still there. Surrounded by the faint blue glow that made the scratch marks of the wolfs fangs fade away. Not even the beast sharp teeth had manage to dent her metal core.
She should be happy to still be alive. Had she not had metal under her skin the wolf would have taken her leg clean of. But in a way it felt like it had.
Worse was that it was not just her fetlock that was exposed. This time it was half her leg. The wolf had torn of a big chunk of skin and opened a hole in her leg from her fetlock all the way all up to the elbow. Where another mechanical joint now could be seen.
The synthetic muscles really did run all the way up the lower leg and continued past the joint upwards to her shoulder.
Blood had poured from her torn open skin. drenching the machinery in its red color. But she didn't feel any pain at all. It had already stopped bleeding. Like some internal switch had turned the floodgates of to prevent her from bleeding out.
Sweetie did neither scream nor cry.
For a long while sweetie just sat there, staring at her mechanical leg. Until finally the realization dawned on her.
Zecora's cure had not helped.
***
Exiting Everfree forest, Sweetie initially thought about heading directly home overt the hills. But her initial shock and depression had had given way to anger. And with anger came determination.
With a frown on her face she marched (as determined as a little filly can be) towards Fluttershy's cottage. Determined to face the one thing worse then poison joke.
Discord.
It was time to put this stupid joke to end once and for all.
On her way there however, she ran into two of the last fillies she wanted to see.
Applebloom and Scootaloo.
Like her. The two of them had dressed up against the chilling weather.
Also like her... they did not seem to happy to see her.
None called out for the other. Scootaloo was walking with her head hanging low, her eyes only on the ground in front of her. Appleblooms eyes held the strangest look. Like she was looking at a stranger.
No doubt they where still spooked from yesterday. Sweetie didn’t want to talk to or deal with them now. Once she had gotten Discord to straighten things out they would all be able to laugh at this. But still... it did not feel natural giving each other a cold shoulder like this. As the tree passed by each other Sweetie could not take the silence anymore.
“Hi” She said.
“Um... hi” Said Applebloom.
“Yea hi.” Said Scootaloo. Very distant in her tone.
The three had almost passed each other by when Applebloom called out.
“Where are you going?”
“I'm going to see Fluttershy” she answered.
“Don't bother. She is not home. And neither is Discord!”
“WHAT!?”
Her little outburst came out louder then intended. It scared both her and her friends into jumping away from each other.
“What do you mean not home? How do you know that?”
“Because we went to check ourselves. After your ran away yesterday we went directly to Fluttershy's cottage to see if we could get Discord straightened out. But she wasn't home! And Discord was nowhere to be found. Believe me, we looked all around town. We asked everypony if they had seen or heard any sigh of him! And you know what. Rumors say he and Fluttershy left for Canterlot weeks ago. For him to answer to Celestia for some mischief he caused out west or whatever.”
Sweetie could not believe what she was hearing.
“Well maybe he came back. He is a spirit of chaos! He could be anywhere he wanted to be.” She reasoned. “He could have done this anytime!”
“Why...?” Scootaloo mumbled.
Sweetie was about to roll over in hysterical laughter. Why? With discord it wasn't about why. It was about why not.
“Why would he ever do anything that made scene?" she laughed "Maybe he set of the explosion yesterday and turned my leg to metal just to screw with our heads right after that scary movie. He was probably having a good laugh at all of us last day.”
Scootaloo cut her of with a cold glare.
“Then why did I not hear any laughter?”
Sweetie's laughter got stuck in her throat.
"why... What do you mean?"
Applebloom elaborated, whit a lot of concern in her voice.
“If you know Discord you know he likes to take responsibility for his work. He likes to do big and obvious things and laugh in your face about it. This does not seem like something he would do.”
“What are you saying!?”
“That if if was not discord, then...”
“DON'T SAY IT! Its not true. I'm not a robot!”
“Then why are you wearing that?”
Scootaloo pointed accusingly at the socks she was wearing over her legs. The first thing she had done coming out of her shock was to strap the socks back on.
Sweeties yaw was left hanging open as she stammered for an answer. But not a single whole word left her mouth.
“Take it off.” Said Scootaloo in the coldest tone Sweetie had ever heard.
“No.”
“Take. It. Off!”
“NO!”
Scootaloo threw herself over Sweetie. They tumbled around on the ground as Scootaloo tried to pull the shoes and socks of her.
All the while she was screaming.
“Remove it. Take it off! TAKE IT OFF!” TAKE! IT! OFF!
Sweetie resisted. But Scootaloo overpowered her. Pinning her on her back with both hooves on her shoulders as she used her teeth to pull the shoe of her fight hoof. Then she bit down on the sock. Sweetie in turn bit down on the other end of the sock and they both pulled with all their might The poor sock stretched and stretched until the stitches tore up and revealed her broken leg.
Scootaloos expression instantly changed from anger to shock. All three girls just stared at sweeties exposed mechanical lower leg.
Finally Applebloom spoke up
“Are you even more robot now then you where yesterday?”
“No.” She said meekly. “No I am not.”
She could feel tears forming in her eyes.
“I can't be. It must be a prosthetic. That's all it is!”
“Prove it.”
It took a while for Sweetie to realize that scoot had just asked her to remove her own leg. But when the question sank in, she tried. She pulled all over. Looking for some way to remove the artificial limb. But her own fur covered her whole leg. She had no idea where any detachment points might be.
She pulled and punched her shoulder. Tried to stretch her leg in ways it was not meant to be stretched. But all she ended up doing was hurting herself.
Scootaloo was gritting her teeth. But sweetie saw something else. A tear forming in the corner of her eye.
Why was Scoot crying? Was she that sad for her sake? Did her having a synthetic leg upset her that much? Before she could ask, Scootaloo snorted and walked away.
Sweetie reached out for her friend. But Applebloom put a hoof on her shoulder and shook her head.
“Please. Don't talk to Scoot. She is going through a lot right now.”
“Like what?” Sweetie was beyond confused. Why could they not just tell her?
“It ... Has to do with you. About what happened yesterday”
“I'm not a robot.” Sweetie pleaded. “You must believe me.”
Applebloom walked up and hugged her.
“I want to Sweetie. Please understand that Scoot and i spent all day yesterday looking because we want to believe you.”
Now it was Applebloom that had tears in her eyes.
“Just please promise that you do not talk to Scoot.”
Sweetie could not understand why they did not want to tell her what. But Applebloom's pleading look told her enough.
“Ok... Just please promise back that you wont tell anypony. Not anyone!” She begged.
Applebloom nodded and trotted away to catch up to Scootaloo.
Sweetie picked her ruined sock. Its torn stitches seemed to bear an resemblance to the bond between her and her friends.
“I will prove that its a prosthetic!” She shouted after them “I will prove it to you tomorrow!”
But how?
***
She went to Fluttershy's cottage just to see for herself that there was nopony home.
There was indeed a note on the door saying that Fluttershy was of on some business in Canterlot.
With a knot as heavy as stone Sweetie turned and walked away. But she stopped not to far away from the cottage. her eyes drawn to another structure at the edge of Everfree forest.
A little bit away from the cottage there was an old shed that lumber-ponies had once used while cutting trees on the edge of Everfree. Trees used to build new houses during Ponyvilles early days. Though it saw much less use now days it was still maintained since the forest itself needed to be kept in check every now and then.
Fluttershy had put a big sign on it telling ponies and creatures alike to stay out of that shed.
No pony would look for her there.
Sweetie looked herself in the shed. She had to find a way to remove her fake leg. Bur how?
She pressed and pulled her shoulder any way she could think of. But she could not find any button that detached the prosthetic.
The skin had been stretched over it. Maybe it was not meant to come of? Maybe it was permanently stitched to her body? The fact that the skin had been grown over the prosthetic did speak against its removability.
But she had to make it come of! She had to get ride of this thing that was upsetting Scootaloo so much.
But how?
One look around the shed revealed a whole bounce of options that were equally terrifying.
The inside of hut was full of tree cutting materials of all shapes and sizes. From axes to band saws.
She grabbed one of the axes and placed her hoof on the table.
She looked down on her prosthesis. For that was what it was. An artificial limb. A glorified wooden leg.
A wooden leg with her own flesh stretched over it.
Why? Why hide it? So that people shouldn’t see her walking around with a wooden foreleg?
On one end she could appreciate not giving the school bullies Diamond and Silver any more reasons to pick on her. But right now she would rather be bullied for a fake leg than see Scootaloo cry.
She brought the ax down hard on her leg. The table shook and her shoulder screamed in protest.
The faint blue light appeared. Not this time!
She struck with the ax again. Harder this time. She lost her balance as her entire body shook.
If she had just had magic then this would have been easy.
Magic. Was this why she could not use magic? Could robots use magic at all?
No. She Was not a robot!
She struck the ax again. Her shoulder felt like it was gonna pop out of its socket. But the metal barely dented.
She struck again. If she cut her synthetic leg of then flesh and blood would be able to grow back in its place.
She Struck again. Faster. Harder. Hoping to dig out some blood hiding underneath the iron shell. She felt her pulse beating in her eardrums. She thought about how felt blood vessels felt like pulsating strings under the skin. Those same strings that ended up in wires. Those wires had to be full of blood. The synthetic had to run on blood. Blood from her own heart!
She brought the ax down a final time. And managed to hit one of the wires. Her faces was splashed. Not with blood. But with a brownish greasing fluid. The wire had been a tube so tiny it looked no thicker then an vein.
And now she was leaking. Oil instead of blood.
She collapsed. Crying. Her muscles had ceased up in cramp and her body was screaming no more!
The ax fell out of her hoof. She could not bring herself to raise it again.
She laid on the shed floor until the cramp ceased and she was able to move her leg again. Though her shoulder was still sour.
She found a first aid kit on the wall and used some of the band-aid to wrap her leg up and stop the leaking. Then she pulled one sock of her back leg and put it over the bandage.
The air outside seemed to have gotten even colder as she left the shed.
She dreaded that it would be school day tomorrow.
***
Rarity was hard at work.
It seemed like she always had more work to do in time for the weekends then for regular days. And especially for the holly-days.
The time up to Heart Warming Eve was a lucrative but stressful time for any business. And Rarity's boutique was no exception. Clients both big and small had left her with a tall stack of orders. Everypony wanted something for hearts warming eve.
Some wanted to give a nice dress as a gift to their special someponies. Some wanted to dress their best on Hearts warming eve itself. And some just wanted something warm to wear for the cold season. And then there was the costumes for this years hearts warming pageant that would again be played out by Rarity and her closest five friends. Said friends had suggested that they just use the costumes from last year, bur Rarity would not hear of it. This years play was gonna be bigger and better and they needed newer and better costumes.
All in all it was a tight schedule to keep. But Like the fashioner she was she had managed to sew it all together (pun intended).
Besides, working and sewing always took her mind of more distressful things.
Like Sweetie Belles questions from yesterday.
She did not know why. But for some reason. Sweeties question had made her sweat.
Was it because sweetie was to young to think about such things? Or was it because...
Rarity shook her head. The dress in front of her needed to be finished and she did not have time with her sisters problems. She needed more needles to attach the stencils. She cursed that one of her carefully sorted needles had gone missing from its stack. She wondered where it had gone.
As she went through the drawers for more needles the thoughts of Sweetie Belle kept sneaking back into her mind. She had seemed more on edge then usual. Why suddenly dig for old photos? Maybe they had some kind of “bring-a-photo-of-yourself-as-a-foal-to-class” kind of assignment? To bad mom and dad had all the photos. Of them as foals...
An uncomfortable feeling started creeping back into her mind but she shook it away. More pins. More stencils!
Where does little foals come from?
She did not know what could have brought on such thoughts in her sisters young mind. Whether Cheerilee had started such educations or some colts had said something.
Colts...
Sweetie had seemed nervous about her appearance lately. First she had made those socks. And then there was the unusually long bath she took so unusually early this morning. She had been glad that the water did not make her feel funny. Rarity had been worried she had swallowed to much soap or tried to drink her perfume.
But while she had used a lot of soap she had at least not touched her makeup or used any of her expensive conditioner. That always tended to end in disaster.
Perhaps she wanted to look her best for some special little somepony she was meeting with today. She said that she was meeting her friends. But maybe it was a little handsome instead?
He better be nice. Because if he tried to do something to her little sister, then she was gonna string him up by his own tail.
She was woken from her thoughts by the sound of the doorbell.
“Sis?” Came Sweeties meek voice.
“Yes. Sweetie. What is it?”
Rarity turned away from her work to look at her sister. An awkward second passed when they just stared at each other. Sweeties eyes red-trimmed, she had obviously been crying.
“Nothing.”
Sweetie turned to the kitchen. She tried to look normal but Rarity could tell she was hiding a lot of sadness. It made her heart bleed. What in the world could have made her sister so sad? Had the new coltfriend turned her down. Or had he...
“Did he try anything!?” She shouted.
Sweetie looked at her bigger sister like she was insane.
“No. He did not try anything.”
Then she bolted up the stairs.
Rarity released a breath she did not realize she was holding. She went back to her dress that was by now looking like a hedgehog had rolled in a pile of leaves with all the needles and stencils sticking out of it.
She carefully removed all the needles as she toyed with the thought of how much pain they could cause if they where to be stuck in under the hoof.
***
As Sweetie laid in bed she could not help but curse herself.
Why had she not been able to ask Rarity? The question was at the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it. And for every passing second the question only fell deeper into her throat.
Sweetie began trashing around in the bed. Angry at herself. And even angrier at Rarity and her stupid question. Of course he had not tried anything. Discord that was. He had not tried anything. And that was the problem. And if he had not done it. Then...
Sweetie didn't dare finish the thought.
She could not be a robot, she told herself. She bleed. She cried. She got tired. She got hungry. And she felt. Robots could not feel emotions. Therefore she was not a robot.
That was what her heart was telling her. But her brain was telling her something different.
That the alternatives that pointed away from her being a robot was quickly diminishing.
She looked down on her leg. She had decided to sleep with her socks on in case Rarity snuck into her bedroom tonight.
Her thoughts went back to her vocal inability.
Why could she not just ask Rarity to remove the prosthetic? Perhaps she did not want to shock her? Perhaps she really did not know? But she was older than her. How could she not have known if Sweetie was in some sort of an accident? Maybe she had been born with only tree legs and they had gotten her a magic prosthetic that grew with her?
That brought her back to the lack of photos she had found yesterday. the lack of proof that she had grown up at all.
But she remembered growing up. She remembered the birthdays and holidays. She remembered The day Rarity moved out of home, and the day she moved in with her here in Ponyville. She remembered them playing together before Rarity moved out.
What was her earliest memory? She knew she had a perfect memory of the last couple of years. She could mentally catalog everything the Cmc did after all. She just needed to go further back. Work her memory to the bone to really find memories of her earliest days.
Sweetie closed her eyes and tried to go back as far as she could. She counted the birthdays backwards.
As she strained her memory she was able to count all the way back to birthday one. A vague image of a single light in a cake danced before her inner vision. A celebration that according to tradition was held one year after her birth.
But after that she was drawing a blank.
She tried to go further back. She knew there had to be something. But every time she tried to remember something before her first birthday something stopped her. It was like running headfirst into an invisible wall.
An invisible wall that was cold as ice.
It was cracked. But it held steady.
She felt a strange familiarity to this. Like she had been here before.
Somewhere down there, behind that wall, was the answer. She just knew it. She was drawn to it. And she was already working on it. She could feel herself becoming one with the wall. Slowly sipping into it. Through it.
It was scary, but interesting at the same time.
As she descended deeper into her mind she realized she must have fallen asleep. She then realized she had the whole night to work at that wall.
Slowly the ice cracked.