//------------------------------// // A Blast from the Past // Story: These Old Claws of Mine // by megabyte97 //------------------------------// I set down my toolbox and backpack as I enter my home, a box of matches in my hands. I sigh as I look around, not much has changed in the time I’ve been gone, everything was as I left it except for the fact that everything had a fine layer of dust coating it. I didn’t have much, a small bed is pushed up against one of the corners, and a circular table dominates the center of the room. A few chairs were sown around the room and a closet door occupied one of the other walls. Several pictures adorned every wall, although with the only light coming from the moon filtering through a window I can’t make out a lot of them besides the outline of their frames. I walk over to the closet and open it. Inside I see three shelves stocked with almost everything I need for my stay in this town I’m in. On the top shelf I see several journals and scrolls of various sizes and colors, on the middle shelf I see three candles with different colored flames, one white, one black, and one that wasn’t lit. On the bottom shelf there is a single large book, the cover shrouded in shadows along with several quills and inkwells. I bring out a match and strike it, green flames jump to life as I use it to light the last candle. Extinguishing the match, I place the matches on the bottom shelf as I stare at the candles for a few minutes. They’re gifts from two very close friends, each one having a special and unique property. I shake my head to dispel the memories as I grab a journal from the top shelf along with an inkwell and quill in my left hand, I then grab the candle with the white flame and close my eyes before bringing it out of the closet. I slowly open my eyes and blink a few times to adjust to the light. Looking around I’m pleasantly surprised to see the candle still works, and is now illuminating the entire room. I walk over to the table and place the candle on the center of it. After setting the inkwell, quill, and journal on the table the way I like them, I pull up a chair and sit down. I dip the quill in the ink and open the journal. I stare at the blank page for a few moments before I look down at myself, lost in thought. I’m around six feet tall and I’m wearing an old yellow and grey muscle shirt along with a pair of brown jeans, my body is similar to a body builder’s except with a lot more hair. I rub my chin, scratching my grey beard as I think of something to write about. I pause for a moment before I lean back in the chair. I run my free hand through my grey hair as I lock my eyes on my blue backpack, my thoughts briefly flashing towards what I keep at the bottom. “...Screw it.” I mutter under my breath as I start writing. June 20, Day before the Summer Sun Celebration. Year 1264 AA Nothing worth noting happened today, except that Marelantis apparently doesn’t need our services… So I’m going to write about something I haven’t thought of in hundreds of years… I’m writing about how I got here. It all started on a bright and sunny day… It was Halloween and my girlfriend was going to meet me at a costume party she guilt tripped me into going to. She was going as Storm from the X-Men series, and she was very insistent on making my costume. Today, I finally got to see my costume and I was thoroughly confused. It was just a muscle shirt, a pair of brown jeans, and a pair of gloves with claws glued on, after putting them on I asked her who I was supposed to be. “Old Man Logan,” she replied with a smile. I laughed and gave her props for coming up with a costume for a character I shared a name with, but told her that it would take more than a little work to make me look old. “Just give me an hour,” she told me with a wicked grin. An hour and lot of arm twisting later, I actually looked like an old man complete with grey hair and a beard. Although if everything went as planned I was going to have the last laugh. I had a present in the trunk of my car that I was going to give her, I spent a lot of time making it, and I’m sure she was going to love it, but before that I had to pick up something I had ordered a while ago. We said goodbye and promised to meet at the party later. After she drove off, I got into my car and drove to a run-down shop. Once there, I popped the trunk of my car and took out my toolbox and backpack. My girlfriend’s present was in a large black suitcase which I ignored. I walked into the store, noticing the shelves were empty. There was only one person in there besides me, and he was dressed as a warlock complete with a ‘Laughter’ theater mask behind the counter. I walked up to him and got right to business. “Order for Logan?” I asked. “It’s in the back, I need to confirm you have everything first.” I nodded and set the toolbox and backpack on the counter. He promptly opened them up and looked at their contents. After a while he closed them and nodded at me. “Alright, let me go get your order.” He turned and opened one of the lower cabinets before turning back and placing a tiny black box on the counter… and pushing my stuff back to me. “Keep your stuff, this one’s on the house.” I blinked before shouldering the backpack and grabbing the toolbox. “Are you serious?” “Yeah, you’ll need that more than I will,” he told me as he tossed me the black box. I caught it in my free hand, and the next thing I knew, I was falling. I must have passed out after that, because the next thing I remembered was waking up in a forest completely alone with nothing but my backpack, my toolbox, and the black box… I pause as I look at what I’ve written, wondering if I should even continue. Before I can decide, I feel a spike of magic come from somewhere in the city. I sigh, knowing that it is probably some drunk buffoon trying to impress a mare. I dip my quill in ink one more time and put the point to paper. It seems like the bars have closed for the night, so I will continue this later. -Logan I stand up after finishing the entry, grabbing everything off the table. I turn to the closet and put everything but the journal back where it was originally. I’m enjoying the cool night breeze on my back, but I pause as I’m reaching for the candle with a black flame. ‘When did I open the window?’ “Do not move, unless thou want a hole in thy head, old man,” a feminine voice told me in a cold tone. “...Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” I ask the voice, taking her threat seriously. “Really? Thou dost not remember Us, old man? We are hurt, after all thou art one of the main reasons We were banished for so long.” I sigh as I realize who it is. “Hello Luna, it’s been a long time.” “Indeed, a thousand years if We are not mistaken.” “...Why are you here?” “Oh don’t worry, old man, We are just checking to make sure that our sister will not have any back up when We confront her. While she might be a weak willed fool, We know that if given the chance, thou will take it.” “You shouldn’t have bothered, I’ve given up the fight a long time ago.” Silence greeted my statement, and several seconds passed before I heard the familiar hum of magic. “Say it again.” “I’ve given up fighting, Luna...” I hear the hum fade, and I could feel her scowling at me. “...So thou hast become like Celestia, thou no longer hast a backbone. Thou art pathetic.” I hang my head as I hear her walk towards the window. “If thou grows a new backbone We shall be in Ponyville.” “...Luna?... I guess you’re gone, huh?” The silence that replied was deafening. I stare into my closet for a while before I reach for the large book on the bottom shelf. I pause as I pick it up and glance behind me, my house is shrouded in shadows and the window is closed. I glance down at the book in my hands and then to the candle with the black flame. I finally place the book back on the bottom shelf and take the candle. The noise coming from outside immediately fell silent as I placed the candle on the table. I then drag myself over to my bed and collapse upon it. “...I’m sorry, Luna,” I whisper as I close my eyes.