Author's Note: one of the users known as refferee gave me the idea for the chapter title. There's an actual song called "Through The Fire And Flames" by Dragonforce. I have reason to suspect that most of you will like it.
And without further ado, here is the tenth chapter of HHaF!
X - Through The Fire And Flames
"Um... Jace? We have an emergency," Praxis warned the human by tapping his shoulder and pointing to the ignited barn.
"Dear God... not the farm! That's where I work!" Jace yelled as he clutched his head in despair.
"Not only that... but there's somepony inside. Come on!"
They jumped off of the stage and into the air above the crowd, which still continued to cheer earnestly as they arced over them. They landed outside of the audience of Ponyvillians and bolted for the blazing barn. The screams of whoever was trapped inside the burning wreckage began to raise in volume as they got closer, but their actual destination seemed to feel so far away... almost like it was trying to escape them... like it didn't want them to rescue whichever ponies were stuck there...
Like it wanted its prisoners to burn....
When they finally got to the fence that bordered Sweet Apple Acres from the rest of Ponyville, the duo leapt over the fence and got in a prone position, sliding underneath a cart that was full to the brim of apples. A jutting tree root from one of the apple trees stood in their path; they kicked off of the root and sent themselves flying through the air again, clearing another cart of apples. They landed and continued running to the barn, panting heavily now, the sweat that was cascaded from Praxis' forehead, neck, and armpits being absorbed and vanquished by the Shadow Fiber. He could almost feel the heat of the burning building... almost taste the ash that threatened to damage his lungs.
Until some invisible force had grabbed his hoof and threw him to the floor.
"Just what do you think you're doing?!"
Praxis turned his head to the speaker and felt a wave of both fear and anger surge through him. Twilight Sparkle was standing in the shade of an apple tree, shrouded by the shadow it cast in the light of the barn's flames. Her amethyst eyes reflected the orange glow of the fire, a scowl on her face as she stared the satyr down. She looked beside herself; her eyes were narrowed in fury and her teeth were gritted. It was like her mane and tail were about to ignite as well.
"Answer me!" demanded the magician, stamping her hoof to punctuate her words. She walked in front of him, eyes still glued to him in disgust.
"Twilight, let him go!" Jace pleaded.
"Nuh-uh! Jace, how can you side with this guy?!"
"Look, while this is all fun and games, how about you let me go, eh?" Praxis requested, still pinned to the floor by Twilight's magic.
"No way! I won't let you bring destruction to Equestria! Now after what happened at the castle!"
"Twilight,... let... me... UP!" He was getting pissed off now, his nails digging deep into the soil of the farm.
"What, so you can go and kill those poor victims in the fire, hm?!"
She was being silenced as Praxis laughed coldly. He looked into her eyes and she backed away; the eyes she gazed into weren't like before, all black with fiery irises, but the pupils merely resembled slits. That's what caused her to back up, the similarity of the eyes... the hatred that flowed through them now. The spell that she was using to keep him secure had ceased to work, the purple aura of magic dissipating into nothingness.
"Why the hell would I wanna kill them, you fucking moron!?" he cruelly told her, getting up and dusting off his legs.
"W...what?!" she questioned incredulously and angrily. Jace let out a low whistle and leaned back slightly, afraid of the potential shitstorm that was bound to happen.
"You heard me!" Twilight winced at his sudden yell. "Can't you see that we're trying to save them?!"
She gasped at his words. She had no idea... she didn't know that that was his criteria: to protect the ponies inside the barn.
"Yeah. Precisely. Now get out of my way!" He pushed her aside as he continued towards the barn, Jace following him. Twilight could only stare in shock as the duo reached the door and Jace gave it a Kung-Fu kick. The built-up flames on the inside were sent shooting out of the door when it burst open. The satyr lifted the flap of cloth at his neck and shrouded the lower-half of his face before they went inside and searched for whoever was screaming.
"Jace, stay outside, I'll bring them to you!" Praxis said to the human.
"Hell no!" Jace retorted. "We go in alive, we're coming out the same way!" Praxis let out a sigh at his friend's stubbornness, but let it slide.
"Help! Somepony! Anypony, HELP US!" cried a squeaky, frantic voice in the middle of all the ash and smoke. Praxis' inner brony informed him that the speaker was Sweetie Belle. If that was the case... then....
He gasped, the fearful fact dawning on him like the radiant Sun: Scootaloo and Applebloom were with her, too.
"C'mon, everypony!" Jace hollered into the smoke. "Lemme hear those voices!"
"We're over here! Hurry!" Scootaloo called back, coughing viciously from the heavy ash.
With his acute sense of hearing, Praxis spun around and spotted them: three pure-black silhouettes that stood out against the orange light of the fire and the dark gray hue of the smoke.
"They're over there!" Praxis said.
*CRRREEEEEEAAA- SNAP!*
'Oh, shit!' He glanced up and gave a goat-bleat in fear.
One of the barns support beams had been burned away at both ends and was falling at deadly speeds to the ground... right to where the Cutie Mark Crusaders were quaking in their horseshoes.
"NO!" he bellowed. He and Jace took off towards the three fillies and scooped them up into their arms, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle in Jace's and Applebloom in Praxis'. The falling support beam was almost upon them, only mere feet from its destination: they couldn't get away without getting severely injured. Jace might've been fine, but... Praxis had his doubts about himself. He held Applebloom close to his chest, and she did likewise, trying to hug as much of him as possible.
"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise...." he whispered to Applebloom, shedding what might be his final tear.
*WHOOMP!*
Praxis, Jace, and the three fillies were rocketed away from the spot by something hitting them. No... it wasn't something... it was somepony. A large red stallion with an orange mane and tail had booted the five away from the destruction of the falling support beam. It landed onto the back of the stallion, flattening him to the floor. A deep roar of pain could be heard from the stallion as he hit the dirt, the piece of straw expelled from his mouth.
'Wait... that straw....'
"BIG MAC! NOOOO!" Praxis wailed in despair as he and Jace got up, jumped over the red farm-pony, and set the three fillies down outside of the gate.
"Go, run away!" shouted Jace. The Cutie Mark Crusaders fled the scene with great gusto, kicking up dust as they galloped down the dirt path. The two turned around and tried lifting the log up. Praxis started to push the board up off of Big Mac, ignoring the urge to yelp in pain as the beam roasted his palms. He jerked back and got in a handstand position, using his hooves to lift the beam. But it was to no avail: it wouldn't budge. "It's too heavy! Help!" Jace ran to the other end and started to lift the board as well.
"FUCK! This thing is burning my hands!" Jace closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as a red aura flowed around his hands. He moved from the beam and then let out a growl. The growl soon became a yell as he lifted the beam without even touching it.
Praxis looked back at Jace, amazed at what he saw. "I didn't know you did magic!"
"Fuck yeah I do!" he said proudly before he tossed the beam to the side and got Big Mac in his telekinetic grip. "Let's get the fuck outta here, Prax!" He coughed and ran for the exit. Praxis was way ahead of him by that point, but as Jace neared the exit, boards started to fall over the doorway. "NO!" He threw Big Mac out of the opening that was left and the loft above the door fell over the only exit. Jace was crushed by the falling burning wood planks and felt the fire scorch his back. He didn't yell, he didn't scream, he just... laid there. He made a desperate grab for the Calling Card and whispered something to it. He closed his eyes shut and then opened them again, the sparkling green in his eyes was now a blood red. He pushed the burning wood off his back and the burn wounds healed almost instantly. He reached down and pulled out a scythe that was used for harvesting. It was a farmer's barn after all. As he held the farming tool, the blade slowly faded to a black and started to drip... something. He raised the blade like he was going to cut wheat, and then sliced. At the end of the slice; he released the blade and it spun around him like a top. The unknown fluid that was dripping from the blade eventually put out the fire. He stopped the blade's wild spinning with his telekinesis, and sent the haft flying into his hand. He raised the scythe with enough strength to easily slice platinum as he turned to the side of the barn. He made a large X cut and then kicked the wall in, making it shatter with ease. He walked out of the barn, the scythe resting on his shoulder. "Well, that's taken care of..." he muttered, exasperated at his immense display of energy. The crimson hues of his eyes became green once more as he walked out of the extinguished wreckage and made his around the barn to Praxis, who was smacking Big Macintosh across the face in the hopes to wake him up.
"Big Mac, wake up, man! Come on, dammit!" the satyr muttered, his slaps getting harder and harder.
Big Macintosh's eyes weakly fluttered open, letting out a groan as he lifted his head.
"J... Jace? Mr. Monster... a... are the fillies alright?" he feebly said.
"Eeyup," Jace answered, wiping his running nose on his shirt. Big Mac chuckled at Jace for stealing one of his favorite words before coughing violently onto the ground. Blood flew out of his mouth with every other cough, sprinkling the dirt path with red.
"L...Listen, you two. Ah... Ah don' think Ah'm gonna make it. Ah w - *cough* - want you two t' take care of them fillies... y'hear?"
"Big Mac, what the hell are you saying, dude?! You're not gonna die!" roared Praxis, tears running down his face. The stoic stallion only gave another weak laugh as he painfully turned his head to the satyr.
"Y'know... Ah - *cough* - Ah used t' think that y... you were an evil monster, at... at least, that's... *COUGH COUGH COUGH* that's what I heard from the other t-townsponies and from... from the posters. But after y... y'all tr... tried t' protect mah li'l sister, Ah r-reckon... you ain't a monster at all. *cough* Yer jest... simply misunderstood, 's all...." The iron grip that he had on Praxis' hand was slowly weakening. "T-take care of A-Applejack and Appleb-bloom. Take c-care o' mah li'l s-sisters, y'all g-got that?"
Praxis could only nod as the head of Big Macintosh fell to the floor with a thud, the brilliant light of Prinncess Luna's full moon reflecting off of the half-lidded, glossy, green eyes that could not see. He left this world with a smile on his face, his final breath being exhaled and vanishing in the atmosphere.
"No....no! NOOOO! DAMMIT, BIG MAC! WHY?! YOU CRAZY BASTAAAAAAARD!" He broke down, weeping heavily and swearing onto the chest of the farmpony as he beat it weakly. He didn't want to believe he was dead. The very idea was absurd: Big Macintosh, the strongest, kindest, and most hardworking pony in all of Ponyville... fallen?
But he knew that he had to finally submit to the cruelty that Fate had presented him. "Y...you crazy bastard..." the satyr croaked again as he closed Big Mac's eyelids. "Y...you just had t-to go and d-die on me, huh?"
"C-C'mon, Prax. L-Let's g-get outta here," Jace sobbed, getting up and hooking Big Mac's hind legs under his armpits. Praxis, who got what the human was doing, followed his example and hoisted the forelegs of the fallen pony into his own armpits. Together, they walked away of the scorched wreckage of the barn.
Outskirts of Ponyville; Near Praxis' Home
"Wait, why are we taking this route?" asked Praxis, his vice-like grip on Big Macintosh's forelegs beginning to dwindle. He adjusted his grasp until it was both comfortable and strong, then continued.
"Because we don't want everypony to feel horrible about Big Mac," Jace answered in a matter-of-fact tone. The two had been walking for almost an hour, doing their best to avoid the Ponyvillians. When they finally left the town undetected, they trotted over to the Everfree Forest.
"Oh... but wait. Sooner or later, the ponyfolk are GONNA find out, man."
"Exactly, which is why it's best to not let them discover right away: it'd crush all of their hearts into tiny pieces."
"Huh... so we don't wanna give them the terrible truth all at once?"
"Yep."
"Dude... that just seems a tad bit heartless, don'cha think?"
"Don't care. Now, c'mon: We gotta bury this guy over at your place."
"Whoa whoa whoa, back up there! Why my place?"
"...What did I just say about not wanting everypony to feel horrible about Big Mac? Besides, not a lot of ponies just walk into the Everfree Forest willy-nilly."
"*Sigh of frustration* Fine... hold on, though! The Cutie Mark Crusaders know about what happened to Mac! That means that this trip was in vain! Everypony will STILL know!"
Jace chortled a bit before regaining his solemn attitude. "Well, yeah, you kinda got me there. But this trip isn't REALLY pointless. Somehow... in the pit of my heart... I feel like this is what this big fella would've wanted. To have two people he trusts to give him a burial."
"Hmm. That's pretty deep, Jay."
"Thanks, Prax." The duo had finally reached the yew treehouse. They set down the lifeless body of Big Macintosh upon the soft earth of the Everfree Forest before finding a nice place to dig the necessary six-foot ditch for the dead pony.
The only problem was... they didn't have a spade to dig with.
'Looks like I have no other choice,' thought Praxis, looking down at his hands, then at the ground, then back to his hands....
"You DO realize I can do telekinesis, right?" Jace mentioned as the satyr crouched low to the floor and began clawing at the dirt. "I could pull out a square of di-"
"No!" Praxis snapped, the dirt flying behind him. "No magic, no telekinesis, no powers; I want to give Big Mac a proper burial, through blood, sweat, and tears! I'm tired of things being done the easy way! Besides, he at least deserves this to be done right!" And just like that, the tears threatened to flow again. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before going back at ripping up the dirt with his bare hands. Jace, face-palming at Praxis' stubbornness, assisted him in scooping out the soil.
"Hey, Jace?" Praxis began after fifteen minutes of clawing at the earth. "You look pretty tired, dude. Go inside and get some shut-eye."
The satyr had a point. Jace was wiped out from today; toking furniture to a forest half a mile a way, followed by viciously playing the guitar, saving three fillies from a fire, extinguishing a raging barn fire with the powers of Death while lugging a 180-pound equine to that same forest had done a number on his energy and stamina.
"Thanks, Prax," the human said, dusting his hands on his jeans. "You think you can handle this all by yourself, though?
Praxis hesitated before answering. "Um... sure. I think I'll manage."
"Alright, man. G...g...g'night." Jace slipped off his shoes and walked into the treehouse, stifling a huge yawn as he announced his retiring for the night.
"G'night, man." Praxis resumed his current objective, the earth caked underneath his nails as small spheres of dirt flew out of the ditch. Despite him working as fast as he could and his energy still at maximum capacity - he suspected his ADHD had kicked in - it still wouldn't be enough to actually create the grave. He almost decided to give up, to just simply throw in the towel and call it a night, probably even find a nice, wide river for Big Macintosh to drift off into....
That's when a shovel was placed two feet to his right.
"Yer... yer gonna need that t' git th' job done, don'tcha think?" A voice with a southern-belle accent had said. Praxis turned his head and saw a heart-wrenchingly familiar pony. Applejack, in all of her bloodshot-and-puffy-eyed glory, was standing next to him. Praxis grabbed the haft of the shovel and lifted himself off of the floor with it.
"H...how did you know I needed this?" he asked.
"Well... Applebloom tol' me all 'bout it. Ah didn' wanna believe 'er at first... but when Ah saw th' barn... and all that b-blood..." the reminiscence of the incident had made her start crying again. She wiped her eyes with her foreleg before continuing, "Ah... Ah had n-no other choice but t' realahze that i-it was a-all true." She walked over to the body of Big Mac and fell to her knees, her head unceremoniously landing on his chest, sobbing painfully into it. "Big Mac.... hoh, Big Mac...."
Praxis had set the shovel down on the ground and made his way to Applejack, getting down to one knee and rubbing her shoulder. Of course it felt awkward for him: he wasn't very good at giving anyone comfort, especially here in Equestria, where almost all the ponies hated him to no end. What followed next caught him by surprise. He was immediately tackled into a massive hug from the cowpony. She had wrapped her forelegs around his torso, under the armpits, as she laid her head into the crook of his neck and cried there, her tears rolling down to the pointed tip of his pauldron and onto the soft soil.
"Shhhhh..." he assured her, gladly returning the melancholic embrace, fighting back the tears that still attempted to escape their ducts. "It's... it's gonna be OK.... I swear."
"Th... thank you," Applejack said, pulling her head away to look more deeply into his face. She thought that he was pretty handsome, despite him not being a pony like her and everypony else. "Thank you so much fer savin' mah sister." Praxis, upon hearing those words, held her even tighter to him, biting his lower lip to prevent another rush of tears.
That's when a suggestion came to mind....
"Turn me in."
"Wha... what!?" Applejack wailed.
"Turn me in," he repeated. He didn't like the idea of returning to Earth, where his family and few friends must already have assumed that he had died. But... he felt it would be the right thing to do. "Turn me in, and collect the 3000 Bits for my arrest. That way, you can buy another barn, replace Granny Smith's hip... buy a better grave and a casket for your brot-"
Applejack had never smacked anybody harder than she did now. Praxis rubbed the spot on his cheek where she had struck him, incredulous that his words had driven her to hit him. As he withdrew his hand, his palm was tinted red with his blood.
"Y... you ignoramus!" she bellowed. "How c'n ya assume that I want'cha gone? Tha's jest darn foolish o' ya!" Her anger had sent her over the edge as her voice cracked, the waterworks starting up again, harder and louder than before as she burrowed her face in his chest and cried once more. "Ya a-are h-heroes in m-m-mah eyes... Ah d-don't want ya t-t' go!"
It wasn't the vicious sting of the wound on his cheek that drove Praxis to tears. He clutched her even more tightly to his body as she replaced her head on his shoulder and sniffled, his tears mixed with his blood as they ran down her neck and into her blonde mane.
"I'm s-so sorry... you're right, it was s-s-such a stupid sug-ggestion," he sobbed. He was lying: he knew it would be a good idea, but not to Applejack. Not to the pony who, in her mind, was beyond grateful for his heroic actions.
"It's alrahght, sugarcube," she croaked, wiping her eyes with her foreleg again and separating herself from him. "Ah know y'all simply mean well. B'sides, Ah should be sorry. Ah shouldn't've hit ya like that."
"Apology accepted, Applejack." He stood up and grabbed the shovel again. "It's just a scratch. It'll heal. Oh, and thank you for the shovel," he told her, bowing his head low to show his gratitude. "This will help me a great deal." He turned back to the rather small crater he had dug and shoved the head of the shovel into it, removing a lump of earth. He continued this process of hard, excruciating labor, ignoring the blisters that arose on his hands and how they threatened to burst at any moment, paying no mind to his muscles that screamed in protest and agony, pausing only once to remove his Shadow Fiber jacket and mop the torrents of perspiration that coated his face, all the while simply singing one of the few songs he knew to keep him from falling into a neverending abyss of sorrow. Of course it would sound absurd to anypony, but to him... it seemed to make some sense, the balmy way he sang as he tossed shovelful after shovelful of the brown soil over his shoulder.
"Let it go... let it roll right off your shoulders,
"Don't you know? The hardest part is over,
"Let it in... let your clarity define you in the end...
"We will only just remember how it feels.
"Our lives were made, in these small hours,
"These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate,
"Time falls away, but these small hours,
"These small hours... still remain...."
He ended this portion of the song, not bothering to proceed any further as he dug harder and faster than before, the blisters on his palms finally bursting, and the grotesque mixture of both pus and blood trickling down his hands from their ruptured orifices. The intense pain in his muscles had doubled, stabbing his arms with every shove and overhead swing of the spade. But he could care less about the pain that suffocated him like an iron lung, for he knew that every drop of sweat he poured, every ounce of blood he spilled, every single tear he shed, all of it belonged to Big Mac, the stallion that had saved his, Jace's, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders lives. But now... he was gone, and because of that, there virtually seemed to be no way to pay back that astronomical debt other than the agonizing work Praxis was doing now, which still seemed rather tenuous compared to the stoic farm pony's self-sacrifice for them and the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
At long last, after several grueling minutes, his work had been complete. The grave had been dug. As he clambered out of the ditch and onto the ground, Praxis assessed the damage that he had done onto his palms. The blisters had stopped excreting pus, yet blood still poured out. He wiped his hands on his undershirt, which also absorbed and vanquished the mundane fluid. He collapsed in a heap upon the dirt next to the grave and closed his eyes, giving the cool night air a whiff. It smelled of... apples and cinnamon? 'No, that can't be right,' he mused. He reopened his eyes, the brown meeting the green of Applejack's, who was holding a large grass blanket from inside the treehouse, a sign that she had gone in to get one to drape Big Macintosh's body while the satyr was digging the grave.
"Thanks again," he told her, gently removing the blanket from her mouth. She spat on the ground and wiped her tongue on her hoof: the taste of grass wasn't appealing in the slightest. She watched as he covered the body of her brother in the blanket and gingerly lift him into the hole. He let him fall into the grave, creating a reverberating thud as he hit the ground. She help Praxis push the large mound of dirt, removing her Stetson and placing it on his jacket before she moved the soil into the grave.
The cowpony and the satyr had succeeded in pushing all of the dirt into the grave. "Do you wanna say a few words? In honor of Big Mac?" He asked Applejack after they stepped back. She gave a nod before she spoke, "Big Macintosh, you were always one o' th' greatest brothers a mare like me could be lucky t' have. You were strong, kind, sweet, 'n' hard-workin'. It's... it's a darn shame that y-y'had t-to leave us." She was on the verge of tears again, trying her best to not lose face, despite her voice cracking slightly. "But Ah know fer a fact that y-yer up in pony heaven with M-Momma and Papa. Ah jest know it." She sniffled one final time. "Alrighty, P-Praxis. It's yer turn now," she informed him.
"Thanks, AJ," he responded glumly. "Big Mac. Heh, he was quite the character. Bucking apples until the trees broke, and pulling carts until the wheels fell off." Applejack stifled a chuckle before he pressed on. "I guess I have to say more than that, huh? Therefore, I shall recite a chapter from the Holy Qur'an for him, seeing as how... it can speak words better than I can." He cleared his throat and pondered on what chapter would be appropriate, until he finally came up with one that suited Big Macintosh: it would be one that was so simple, yet ever-so-powerful.
((I seek refuge with God from Satan, the outcast; In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful; Praise be to God, the Cherisher and Sustained of the Worlds; the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful; Master of the Day of Judgment; Thee do we worship, and Thine aid we seek; Show us the straight way; The way of those on whom Thou hast bestowed Thy Grace, those whose portion is not wrath, and who go not astray. Amen.))
"That... by golly, that was beautiful. Ah don't know ANYpo-, erm, anyBODY, who could speak Mare-abic like that," Applejack complimented, trying to stand on her back hooves to pat him on the shoulder. She lost her balance, and tumbled forward. Praxis saw this and caught her in mid-fall, yet she was heavier than he expected. After all, he did think that normal Equestrian ponies were about 70 pounds at the most. And because of his idiotic insinuation, they both fell to the ground with a rather painful thud, the two of them shutting their eyes. They slowly opened them only to find their faces inches away from each other. Applejack gasped, getting up and looking away, her orange cheeks blushing a bright red as she did so.
"So... um, thanks for the compliment, AJ," Praxis said quickly, scratching his scalp embarrassingly as he followed her example and blushed an even deeper red than her.
"It waren't a problem, Praxis," the cowpony replied, speedily replacing her Stetson upon her head and throwing Praxis his jacket, which he also rushed into reequipping.
"Listen, (Is it) can (alrahght) you (with ya if) possibly (Ah can) spend (sleepover?) the night?" They both asked in unison. They both were taken aback at their questions, and a pregnant silence ensued. After about a minute or two, Praxis decided to shatter the silence.
"Um... well, can you?"
"Er... yeah. Ah don' think Ah c'n go back t' th' farm jest yet," she answered, rubbing her eyes.
"Will Applebloom be alright?"
"Mm-hmm. She's in th' hospital gettin' checked up with th' other Cutie Mark Crusaders. Ah reckon she'll b' discharged tomorrow mornin'."
"Um... alright, then. Make yourself at home. Try not to make too much noise, though; Jace's inside sleeping."
"No I'm not!" a voice called out from inside the treehouse. "You two make WAY too much noise for me to sleep!" This sent Applejack and Praxis to fall to the floor once more in uproarious laughter, their laughs resounding throughout the forest and beyond. Praxis could practically feel tears of joy leak out of his eyes from how hard he was laughing. He waited for the laughter to slowly die down, and it did... four minutes later. By that time, he flicked a tear off of his eyelash and brushed the dirt off of his jacket and fur.
"Mah, mah, that Jace feller sure is a character," said Applejack, brushing away the dirt on her fur. She and Praxis walked into the treehouse, the former taking a love-seat opposite the one Jace occupied and covering herself in another grass blanket she got from off of the coffee table, the latter going up the spiraling staircase and jumping into his huge hammock, which hung in the middle of the room. He swung a little bit when he landed into the comfort of his bed, and let the rocking motions gradually ease him into the creeping tendrils of sleep like a baby in a cradle.
Two hours into his slumber... and that was when he had the dream.