//------------------------------// // Chapter 6: Separation {RE-EDITED} // Story: The Poisoned Barb // by ManlyDerp //------------------------------// I find this funny; I promised that the next passage would be dedicated to my childhood, and this fact still rings true. It rings true, yes, but it also rings true for the next chapter, and the chapter after that. It’ll be a long long time before I’ll be able to write anything that doesn’t pertain to my childhood, seeing as how I’m still quite caught up in the middle of it. I’m still an energetic, curious, growing child, despite my classification being that of a baby dragon. And, in writing that, I’ve come to a realization. While I can prepare you for infancy and toddlerhood just fine by sharing with you my experiences, I can’t really do the same with childhood. Not yet, at least. Mine was, and still isn’t, what many would consider a normal life to be; at least in comparison to how my first childhood went or how it went for my own children, that is. The fact of the matter is this; I’m a dragon. I’m a dragon in a land that doesn’t normally host such a creature, let alone raise. Being reincarnated in the first place is unlikely. Being reincarnated into the same position as me is, while not impossible as my earlier passages have illustrated, still pretty darn close to being astronomical. In all likelihood, this journal of mine won’t be used to prepare you for this life specifically. No, instead it will merely prepare you if a similar fate befalls you, as unlikely as such a thing is. In the end, your own childhood memories may prove to be more useful than my ramblings. It is more than fine if this indeed proves to be the case; I won’t look at my work being pointless if it does. I’ve stated again and again how the likelihood of another like me reading this is slim, which is still true. If you do die after reading this you may simply have your memories erased and your soul purged like most newborns' are. And if you’ve already experiencing reincarnation similarly to me, the simple fact that you picked up and read this book indicates that you're well past your second days of crawling around and being helpless already. If this is the case then my words thus far will likely prove to be useless. I won’t stop writing them though, not until the entirety of my new life has been documented. If a single line helps one person, one single person out of billions, then I will be happy. That is my rationale behind continuing. Dusk Shine taught me how much of a difference a single person can have on another, simply with his existence. The young colt brought a fire to my second life that I wasn’t aware I had been lacking until he made its absence known. The boundless youth and curious mind of the colt's childhood encouraged me to move forward in my own towards a future where I could not only take care of myself once again, but also one where I could take care of Dusk in return for his kindness. I need to take care of him because, and let’s face it here, the stallion is hopeless. Completely and utterly hopeless. ◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠ My body suddenly goes rigid as I hear movement to the right of me, in the bed where Dusk was currently sleeping. I remain as still as a statue as the pony’s form shifted and turned… ...only to drag his blanket closer to himself and return to snoring loudly. Releasing my held breath, I blink twice before dipping my quill into my inkwell and resuming my writing. ◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠ … Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here. I didn’t come to this specific conclusion until my days of being his trusty assistant started. Said days didn’t begin until my second childhood truly began, and Dusk’s own ended. For now, let’s talk about the beginning a bit more. The beginning of Dusk’s and I’s relationship dates back as far as the day he hatched me. That should go without saying but in the beginning, I was nothing more than a mere afterthought in the young pony’s mind. This was understandable in retrospect, as he had a much more important responsibility thrust upon him one the same day he hatched me; the responsibility of being Solaris’ personal student. The colt’s education was, and still is in a sense, the Prince’s number one priority above all else in this land. I don’t think I need to state why this is; it should be obvious to all in the future if not now. I’ve accepted years ago the colt’s importance in this world, and I’ve accepted that his future is all that the stallion himself and the Prince cares about. I’ve accepted that my own future beyond Dusk Shine’s is not as important in the grand scheme of things; a life neither pony will ever consider or even think about. Now, this isn’t to say that either stallion doesn’t care; far from it. Dusk, when he was a child himself, cared about me deeply. He held me when I cried and took part in my early development. He was the first pony to ever reach out to me and go out of his way to make me happy, and I proudly call him my friend because of these fond few memories. All I’m admitting to is that there was a period when this feeling wasn’t mutual; when I was just a tool in both the Prince’s and Dusk’s eyes. A teenaged Dusk’s eyes, I should specify. To understand how this came about, let me first share with you the final years of my toddlerhood. My initial raising was monitored by Prince Solaris’ own personal handmaidens and butlers. They, along with a revolving cast of nurses and doctors, worked together to keep me alive throughout my difficult first years in Equestria. They taught me how to do rudimentary things such as how to walk and feed myself. They taught me my more advanced actions; how to control my new draconic fire breath, how to not scratch myself and others with my claws, why not to bite rude nobleponies in public when they use mean words to describe you or your friend with, etc. Despite the lack of knowledge ponies have on the dragon race, these mares and stallions did their best to enlighten me and themselves on the differences between ponies and myself. The importance of maintaining my scales, how gemstones were an important part of my diet now; even the magical nature of my flames were explored by these not scholars and not mages, all for the sake of mine and Dusk's well-being. Probably more for Dusk's, I think, but I like to dream. When it came to areas of the arcane Prince Solaris himself briefly made an appearance in my nursery one day, surprising even the visiting Dusk Shine at the time. With his godlike alicorn powers, my emerald green breath was magically enchanted to allow quick and easy contact between the Prince and me or, more specifically, between himself and Dusk Shine when I eventually reached the age to be serving him properly. But I was not of that age yet, for I was only three years old at the time. And it was at this age of three when Dusk and I were separated for two long years. I still feel bitter about that day, both for my own reaction and the reaction of everypony involved. I feel as though we’ve all grown past it, that we left those old selves of ours behind over the years, but it’s still a nasty stain on what was a mostly spotless relationship between us three. The day Solaris enchanted my breath was the day when he finally decided what was to be done with me. Over the years the Prince had, unbenounced to me, created a lesson plan specifically for my immediate future. This plan was to turn me into the perfect assistant for Dusk; one who could serve him properly as his responsibilities and lessons predictably ramped up in the coming years. The plan held many layers. I would be given a basic education for starters. Then I was to be taught how to perfectly control my body; I was to be taught how to speak Equestrian perfectly, I was to be taught how to write Equestrian perfectly, I was to be taught how to organize a library. My body was to be trained in how to lift heavy objects, my body was to be trained in any way deemed suitable for Dusk’s success. I would be able to play piano for his entertainment if need be, I would be able to cook and maintain a home in Dusk’s place. From what I was able to translate at the time, I was to be his lifelong maid. I didn't react gracefully to this revelation at first. As a mother. I’ve done all of these things and more in my first life out of the love in my heart for both my children and my husband. At age three I saw Dusk as the only family I had left in this world; I would have done all this and more for him out of this same love if I were asked to. He reminded me so much of my little Nathaniel at times that I find myself swearin- I didn’t want to have to leave his side in to do all this though; I didn’t want to be separated from him for years, only to return when I was useful. That was the plan though, I’m afraid; to send me away from the castle and instead to the Bluebelle’s estate, where I would learn how to do all of these tasks under the tutelage of the Princess’ own teachers. I would be there, on one side of Canterlot, while Dusk would be on the other, advancing his studies in the Prince’s academies. I wasn’t to see him again until he was an adult. What shocked me most of all was that the little colt had no qualms with this plan in the slightest; instead, he embraced it. Obviously this didn’t come to pass. Not fully, at least. If it had I would be a teenaged dragon at this point instead of the baby I still am. I’ll write about this next entry, but for now I'll share how I reacted to this turn of events. Poorly. Poorly is the word I would use to describe it. I think this was the only time in my second life that I ever truly embraced the idea that I was an actual, physical toddler. Up to that point I was well behaved, polite, and kept to myself unless necessary; just like how a normal adult tends to act. At that moment though I became the mask, so the speak; I became the wailing, snot-nosed, temper tantrum wielding rugrat that I was supposed to be. I screamed “No!” I bawled. “Don’t wanna go!” I begged. “Don’t make me!” Every syllable came out garbled and mistranslated, every word becoming baby speak, but I felt that the motive shined out clearly; that the message of me not wanting to leave the unicorn’s side was being conveyed properly. Little Dusk, though slightly discouraged by the behavior for a moment, quickly shook his head and waved goodbye to me instead of listening. He had nothing to worry about, nothing to fear; after all, this was the will of his mentor. This was the will of Prince Solaris. In the colt’s eyes, this couldn’t be wrong. In the Prince’s eyes, this was the right thing to do. In my eyes, I saw two ponies who were abandoning me. Once again though; water under the bridge. I’ve since forgiven them both, though only the Prince himself has offered an apology in return. Only he took the time to listen to me, two years later; when a five-year-old convinced him that he was not always right. ◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠◠ “Yaaaaawn. B-but that’s a story… yawn. F-for another time,” I finish out loud tiredly, my eyelids struggling to stay open. Rather liking the idea of being safe and not sorry; I sluggishly put away all of my writing instruments, hid my journal under my nearby basket’s pillow, then blew out my candle before my sleepy mind forgot to do so. Stretching out one last time, I waddle my way towards my sleeping basket once I was sure that the inkwells were properly aligned. Dusk would notice if they weren’t, you see. I made it to my bed when my body suddenly stops. In my sleep-deprived daze, I spare my bed one look, Dusk’s own another, switch my vision between the two for a solid minute… … and then I drag my scale-clad self over to the pony’s side. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because I’ve been doing nothing but reflecting on my past today, or maybe it’s because I just now realized that hiding a journal under my pillow was a stupidly uncomfortable idea, but I made up my mind to do something I had not done in years. As carefully as I was able, I quietly slide underneath the stallion's covers and saddle up close to his furry chest. Despite it having been years since we last slept together like this; Dusk’s unconscious body moved automatically on its own, and slowly wrapped his hooves around my form so that he could cuddle me closely like a warm teddy bear. For a brief moment, as his chest gently rose and fell against my back, I turn my head so I could get one last look at the young stallion’s sleeping muzzle as it slowly turned upwards into a content smile. My own did the same as I lean towards him, kiss him softly on the cheek, and then finally drifted off to a peaceful rest.