//------------------------------//
// lullabies: Part Four (S1C5) 
// Story: DOCTOR 
// by Deidorimu 
//------------------------------//


Dean


Dean felt sluggish running under the weight of the wool sack, tied in an "X" around his back with two ropes. Its contents, making the sack's exterior bumpy and uncomfortable, jiggled and bounced about as he galloped through the forest.

The house beside the lake was out of sight, having ran far enough to once again be surrounded by trees. Each one blurring past him, seeming hazy in his speed. He only paid attention to the trees that blocked his path, as he swerved when necessary to avoid them.

The air was colder than before he entered the house hours ago, and not just because the wind pushed back against him. Hours deprived of the sun's warmth left the forest frigid. If he had been in his home town, in the desert, a summer's night would still be cold, only, not nearly as bad. The green and vegetation, with its exuberant humidity and wet grassy ground, made the forest far colder than the desert. The chill biting his skin as droplets of dew splashed at his legs and lower body with each step.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dean could see the phantom filly not far behind.

She had her maniacal smile, her floating tendril hair, and her chocolate milk drooling, all as expected. Only, her eyes were wide and angry. Glaring Dean furiously as she chased him. With each step the Phantom Filly huffed forcefully, growling and shouting in between each take of air. 

"Get back here!!! Get back here NOW!!!" 

"Oh sweet Celestia!" Dean thought, as he took a sharp turn left.

Dean's intentions, initially, were to run in a looping path. A good distance south, right turn to the west, make a good distance, right turn north, make a good distance, right turn east, make a good distance and return to the house. He figured the Doctor and Aster would have finished what they needed to do by then, so long as he kept the threat out of their way for the time being.

That was his plan, how it was supposed to be. But the phantom was far too fast for him, and in a panic Dean had made several swerves and turns after leaving the house. To the point that he had lost his way back. And in his panicked state, with the phantom approaching closer, his mind couldn't take the time needed to figure out how he would return.

His plan took a bad turn, and he was winging it now.

Another turn right, swerve a few trees, left, right, left, dash over a bush. Dean could really feel the burn enveloping his lungs now, and the heavy sack made it worse. Fighting against its weight, as it felt heavier the further he ran. But, he did bring it for a reason, and when he felt himself starting to slow he figured now was the time to use them.

Shifting the weight forward, Dean managed to tilt the sack downwards, angling the opening towards his chin. When it was close enough, Dean cranked his neck to reach inside. He took this time to spare a glance at the phantom, who ran a mere six feet away. Startled, he felt his heart skip a beat, seeing how close she was.

Acting fast, Dean extracted a white, fish net bag from the sack using his mouth. Filled with large, bright, colorful marbles, Dean pinched his teeth to the bottom of the bag and shook it hard. Until the opening ripped, spilling its contents below and past his legs.

The phantom filly, unaware of what Dean had been carrying, was caught by surprised as she lost her footing over the marbles. She didn't trip entirely, but that small fumble from a childish trick was enough to make her even more angry. "TOYS!!! Your throwing TOYS at me!!!"

Dean paid no attention, he was already reaching into the sack for something else. Looking back, that small trick had managed to widen the gap by a few feet. Not good enough, but that was fine, he had more tricks up his sleeve. And by tricks, Dean was simply planning to chuck toys at the phantom to get away.

He extracted a second bag of marbles and repeated the process, shaking out the contents and letting the marbles roll behind him. But the phantom was ready this time, as a small hop was enough to avoid them. However, what she hadn't expected was for Dean to extract a second item and throw it at her mid jump.

Smack in the face, she felt a hard wooden sword collide into her nose, dazing her for a moment and nearly knocking her off her hooves. Shaking out the stars in her eyes, the phantom growled, "THOSE ARE MY TOYS!!!! WILL YOU-"

POOF! A soft pillow had been thrown mid sentence and combusted into a cloud of feathers on contact with her head. It didn't hurt and only distracted her for a moment, but she still found it aggravating. "Really? Pillows? Your throwing soft stuff now- HEY! STOP IT!!!" The phantom filly roared as Dean chucked a teddy bear at her.

It was rapid fire at this point. Dean reached into the sack, grabbed something, threw it at her face, and repeated, becoming quicker with each item he threw. Teddy bear, sword, random jar, doll, pillow, sword, pillow, doll, pillow, sword, pillow, pillow, more pillows, one after the next. And with each item thrown, the sack progressively became lighter and lighter. Until Dean was running weightless, bearing no struggle under whatever items he had left. Though, at this point it had become apparent he was running low on ammunition. As the sack became flatter and flatter, almost laying flimsy over his back.

It wasn't until the phantom said something about it did Dean realize his sack was almost empty. "OH! STOP IT! HOW MANY TOYS DO YOU HAVE!!!"

Quickly, Dean took a peek inside the sack. A few items remained, plus the toy he had intended to save for last. With the gap widened by a few feet, Dean figured now was the time to change plans with what little he had.

It was risky to go toe to toe with the phantom, and with his strength it most likely won't be good enough. However, he figured the phantom expects him to continue running, not wanting to take a chance fighting back. So, he planned on taking advantage of that.

He hadn't believed in ghosts until today. And with his love of books he had come across many scary stories, all of which he believed to be fictional. In those stories the protagonist always runs away when danger arises. Whether it be a ghost or a monster or killer, the results were always the same. The protagonist runs while the enemy chases. So, he wondered, "what would happen if the protagonist fights back?"

He toyed with the idea with Aster, but he hadn't intended to do it. Thinking about it, running away from danger does make more sense than fighting back heads on. Of course, if he did have to fight he wouldn't do so without a plan. Even still, he didn't want to fight, he had hoped to return to the house in time without being caught. But with his ammunition running low, and his fatigue kicking in, as well as the phantom not showing the slightest sign of tiring out, he felt his options becoming slimmer. As she approached alarmingly close, in his panic Dean felt he hadn't any other choice.

"Back up plan it is!" thought Dean, taking another sharp turn left.

The phantom followed, taking a sharp turn left. Then a right, then a left, a right, a left, another right, until the phantom realized that Dean was running in a zig zag. Evading trees and taking left and right sharp turns every so often. The moment she realized this, the easier it became to follow him. Left turn, right turn, left turn, right turn. Then, all of a sudden, Dean stopped.

Coming to an abrupt halt, Dean stopped at a tree dead center in his path. He would have had to evade it had he not decide this to be the opportune time to stop. Leaning against the tree and taking a well needed breath, Dean quickly rummaged through the sack, grabbing its remaining contents.

The phantom halted as well, stopping six feet from Dean. And unlike him, she wasn't out of breath, nor did she express any hint of fatigue. Smiling a wide, toothy grin, she laughed maliciously, "aw! You can't run anymore!?!"

Dean didn't respond. Quickly, he pulled out the first item he touched, another teddy bear, and chucked it with a grunt, "RRRAAAGH!!"

The teddy bear hit her dead center in the nose, and she didn't so much as flinch. It hit her, stuck for a second, before falling to the ground with a "squeak". The phantom filly looked to the teddy on the ground, before looking to Dean and bursting in laughter. "AHAHAHAHA!!! IS THAT REALLY IT!?! TOYS AND PILLOWS!?! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" A sloppy glop of chocolate milk dribbled from her chin, spilling about and marking the ground in black, as she marched slowly to Dean. "You can't run anymore PRINCESS!!! I am your queen!!! And you! Will! OBAY!!!"

Dean's heart was pounding. Quickly, he reached into the bag for another item and chucked that as well. Another pillow, his last one, thrown into her face with no results. She continued marching as if nothing happened. Dean cursed under his breath as he repeated the process. Another item, a doll, and chucked it hard, resulting the same way. Then a sword, another doll, a third doll, then nothing. Nothing, except the item he had saved for last. Before he could reach it, Dean went stiff, as he felt a heavy breathing from above. Looking away from the sack, Dean found the phantom filly glaring, her face inches from his. Dean coward away, arching his back as the phantom leaned over him, towering above menacingly.

She laughed, "oh no! Are you out of toys!?!"

Dean gulped as he searched the ground around him, spotting a large stone to his right, a few feet away. He searched for a second more, before deciding that it was perfect. "Y- yes and no. Out of toys b- but I still have one more I'd like to share."

"Oh you do? Are you going to throw it at me!?"

At this point Dean had forgotten how cold it was, as he blinked the sweat out of his eyes. The amount of adrenaline rushing through him made him hot, and he felt confined being backed into this tree; with the phantom towering him, basically cornering him in his place. He gulped again, his throat feeling dry. "No, n- not really. A- Actually I wanted to ask. H- Have you ever been on a farm?"

Dean pressed on before she could say anything. "You know about whips right? Nifty tools for all sorts of things. But the main thing its used for is picking up items from a distance. Like something in the barn on a high shelf or . . . something", Dean explained, eyeing the stone.

Extracting the coiled whip, Dean showed it to her, which in return gave Dean a curious, if not malicious look. She eyed the whip, wondering what Dean had in mind, half expecting him to try and use the toy as a weapon. Of course, that was ridiculous, and in a sense it was, without knowing what Dean was hiding up his sleeve.

Dean adjusted his safari hat as he took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart. A shame his hat wasn't real, it did feel rather tight now that he thought about it, it was made for a child after all. 

The phantom simply watched Dean with her unwavering smile. Armed with a whip, and wearing a hat, Dean had no way of fighting back, not without that torch. So, that was it, she knew she had won. One princess sleeping, one more to find, and one ready to be tucked. 

Yet, she couldn't help but wonder what attempt he was going to make this time. Everything else so far all but just delayed the inevitable. Now, his final plan was a toy, rubber whip. This was going to be fun to watch.

Making a quick glance to the stone, Dean positioned the whip, gripped in his right hoof as he held it at a slanted angle. His leg positioned across his chest and held to his left shoulder. "Tell me, please. Are you a little filly?"

The phantom laughed, "WHAT!?!"

"I asked if you truly are a filly! I need to know! Are you a child?" Dean yelled.

Never had she been asked that, and it caught her off guard. She reeled back slightly, before cackling. "You must be stupid!!! I am not a child! I am the Queen of the Forest!" she struck a leg into the air, declaring her name upon Dean. "Ruler of all princesses in the land!"

There was a split seconds silence, before Dean took another deep breath. "What I am about to do is to help the Doctor. Not just for all he's done, but because he is my friend. And by doing this, I can help him rescue the foalnapped ponies". Another deep breath, "I am doing what needs to be done . . . so let's do it". Dean stood tall on his hind legs, looking into the phantom's eyes. He was afraid, that was evident, but what he held behind his fear was strong and unnoticed. A welling sensation of determination, building inside him. "Your right", Dean muttered.



The response didn't make sense, so the phantom allowed Dean to explain. "Filly or not you are, as you say, "Queen of the Forest". And your going to capture me either way. As one of your "princesses", aren't you?"

She didn't respond, curious to what Dean was on about. And he hadn't expected her to answer either, so he continued. "The Doctor, Aster, your going to go get them after dealing with me. Unless, of course, that other ghost is already there, isn't he?" The phantom didn't respond, so Dean assumed he was right. "I expected that. Oh well, I'm sure they can handle him on their own. But the two of you together? I can't really allow that, now can I?" 

Gritting his teeth, Dean forced himself to stay strong. "If it helps, I'll keep you distracted as long as I can. You need to capture me first before you can return. Otherwise you'll be forced to let me go, and risk losing one of your "princesses."

"You can't keep me distracted! I've already won!!!" the phantom shouted, spewing liquid.

Dean wiped his chin and took a deep breath, "no, not yet you haven't. Because if you really think that than there's three things you need to know. One: you may not have known because of my accent, but I'm actually a farmer's son. Raised on a farm until I turned eighteen. And in the past eighteen years I've been taught a lot about farming. Growing crops, handling different weather conditions, but one particular skill I remember, was handling a whip."

Dean released his grip on the top end of the whip, allowing it to uncoil, rolling out and dangling along his left hind leg. "Two! Whips aren't just simple tools. To the experienced, the skilled and trained, it is a weapon and a shield. For offense and defense, a complex, highly strategical weapon. And to the ponies who use such a weapon they are known as whip wielders. And it so happens that the greatest whip wielders in west Equestria, possibly the greatest in all of Equestria, are Dean and Donna Do: my mother and father. And they taught me everything they knew" 

"And three!" Dean pointed to the phantom, speaking in a tone of justification. "I would never hit a child, I swear. But you, if it saves those ponies that need help, than I am willing to make an exception. Therefor, if you truly are a child, than I apologize."

The phantom tilted her head, cocking a brow, "apologize? For what!?"

"Well . . . for this of course-"

At an astounding speed, Dean whips to the right, aiming for the nearby stone. He gave the whip a proper flick, and it "cracks", flashing forth and coiling around the stone. Pulling back, Dean retracts the whip, bringing the stone with it. As it returned Dean gave a facsimiled flick, and the end uncoils from the stone, releasing it. A third, fluid flick, and Dean had the whip recoiled, making it seem like the whip rolled up on its own. Simultaneously, the airborne stone cracked into the side of the phantom's skull, dazing her as she stumbled left from Dean.

With the phantom distracted, Dean took the opportunity to run, spinning around the tree and continuing his path.

Echoes of the phantom pierced the air, as she screeched her earsplitting scream. Not long after, Dean heard the phantom on his trail again. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see her a distance away. She wasn't as close as before, but with her speed it wouldn't take long for her to catch up. With that in mind Dean knew he needed his full concentration if he was going to pull this off. Therefore, to give him that extra brain power, Dean ceased his false accent, speaking in his natural western tongue. "Alright filly, here we go!"

Dean hastened his gallop, evading trees while the phantom slowly shortened the gap. Following in a blind rage, Dean could almost hear her growling. Paying her no mind, he focused simply on avoiding on coming trees as he formulated a new plan. 






The Doctor






"Doctor!" Aster shouted, entering into the room.

The main room of the basement had two door to the left, the thick one at the end and the thin one closest to the stairs. When Aster reentered the central room he found the thin door open, with someone rummaging inside. Sure enough when he checked, Aster found the Doctor behind a desk.

The room behind the thin door looked to be a decent sized office space. Metal filing cabinets on the far left corner, a large oak desk with drawers in the center, a single wooden chair behind the desk, a metal bin beside it, and a red rug beneath, splattered and stained in black. The room was coated in dust and cobwebs laid sprawled along the corners and cracks of the room. And with the stains, it appeared that the rug had odd lumps of fuzz growing on it. Closer inspection told Aster it was mold, and he reeled back in disgust.  Unlike the rest of the basement, this office was lit in normal candles. Illuminating the room in an eerie, yet pleasant white light, an odd change to the shroud rest of the house.

The Doctor seemed undisturbed at the state of the room, as he quickly pulled drawers out from their hinges, dumping their contents upon the desk before chucking it away in an empty corner. Files, scrolls, books, and an assortment of paper now piled on the desk, spilling over.

In his hurry the Doctor threw one of the desk drawers too hard, accidently smashing it to pieces against the wall and startling Aster. "Woah! What are you doing?"

With the last drawer out, the Doctor shuffled through the various papers and files laid out, responding grumpily, "he told you I'd be fine with it? Dean being the distraction?"

"Um, well-"

The Doctor found a thick text book on pony anatomy, and he threw it to the wall on his right in a huff. Leaning against the desk, he gave Aster an angry look. "Because I wouldn't! I would never be okay with that. If anything I should have been the distraction! He could have been looking through these papers for me and that would have been fine!"

"B- But what are you looking for?" Aster stuttered, cowering slightly under the Doctor's glare.

A small paused followed, and the Doctor gave a tired sigh. Having Aster look afraid of him, he knew he shouldn't be upset with the stallion. He was just being an old, grumpy stallion, who was worried about his friend. Of course that thought didn't help him feel justified for being angry at Aster, it wasn't his plan for Dean to be the distraction after all. 

Feeling a tinge sorry, the Doctor simmered down and said calmly, "Anything that could tell us what happened here. And why those ponies are unconscious like that."

His tone helped him relax, but Aster was still a tad unnerved under the Doctor's presence, "b- but would Dean have known what to look for?"

"I guess not. He's a smart kid so I think he might figure out where to start. But piecing everything together, he may find that to be a bit tricky."

That reminded Aster, "oh! Dean wanted me to tell you! In case he didn't have the chance to tell you himself. We found a clue upstairs!"

Looking curiously to Aster, the Doctor asked, "a clue? What'd you find?"

Aster explained everything that happened after he had found Dean, leaving out the bit about Dean wanting to pay the Doctor back, feeling that Dean should be the one to tell him that himself. Meanwhile, unaware of his presence, Aster told the Doctor of the label on the candy jar, while a third pony watched.

Afterwards, the Doctor rubbed a hoof to his chin, his brow furrowed in his puzzlement. "Hmmm, candy from Mane City? Now that is interesting."

"You think that'll help?" asked Aster.

"Its definitely a big piece to the puzzle, but where does it fit?" Continuing his search through the pile on the desk, the Doctor opened a folder, finding what he thought was interesting inside. "Henry's Homemade Baked Goods? That's not it".

He tossed the folder aside and reached for another while Aster watched, "what are you looking for?"

"This is clearly an office so I'm looking for anything with history in it. Paperwork, logs, a journal, something with info on what happened here. Hopefully, info that happened recently."

"What about a diary?" asked Aster.

"Perfect! That would have something". Just before searching another file, the Doctor stopped as he looked to Aster. "Why do you say that?"

"Because there's one sticking out of there", said Aster, pointing to the desk.

In his search, the Doctor had shuffled around the papers on the desk, exposing the top left corner of a diary beneath the pile without realizing it. He gasped and pulled the diary out, holding it high to see better in the light. "That's it!" he said excitedly, before taking a second glimpse at the folder he held. "A recipe on monkey bread. Good god, who do you think was fond of baking?" he asked, tossing it aside.

Aster shrugged, and the Doctor read the cover aloud.

It was a somewhat small pink book, with black bindings and letters written in cursive. 
"Henry Desban Macaroon's Diary"


Aster quickly stood next to the Doctor, as he showed Aster what the diary had to offer. "Is this a mare's diary?" asked Aster.

"Could be, but a name like that does give the benefit of the doubt", said the Doctor, flipping open the first page.

Diary Log One:

My wife bought me that dairy I wanted for my birthday. And with the kids in bed I thought now would be a good time to write my thoughts. I've been awfully stressed with my job at the castle, and Maya said writing out my thoughts would help so, here I am. I don't really know what to write, however. I guess I should start with what has me stressed.

I'm a medical scientist at the Mane City lab. The alchemist there experiment with various ingredients to create new and, sometimes, better potions. My job is to further study those potions and determine which would be suited best as medicine. The job pays very well, and I enjoy my studies in medical science, so I really do like my job. However, there's been a mishap recently that has my whole floor in disarray.

I never saw him myself, never knew what had happened until after the fact. But, we had a break in recently on my floor. Some tan stallion named, "Charlie Brown", I think. This incident was brought to the higher ups so all I know is what I've heard from rumors. And from small hints by the investigators. I guess that's for the best, I think this might be one of those cases where "knowing less" is better. Still, I can't help but ponder why it was only our floor that was breached. Floor D is a level down, which isn't far beneath the castle by no means, but there are still guards posted by stairways and floor entrances. And rumor has it that this "Charlie Brown" had been here for awhile unnoticed. Again, I never saw him myself so whatever he did to break in he must have known what he was doing and how to do it. Because one does not simply breach Mane City Castle without dire consequences. But that's only part of my curiosity. The other half I'm curious about is, if this intruder managed to breach the castle and do so for an extended period of time, than why not breach the lower levels? Floor D is the medical lab, medicine. Granted the lower floor you reach the more heavily guarded it becomes. Even still, why breach a medical lab when there are scientist researching "things" of far more interest down below. And I say "things" because I dare not write what research takes place on those lower floors. Even if this diary is meant to be private.

That was five days ago, and though I do feel this situation is best left out of my hooves, I still can't help but feel anxious on the whole ordeal. Everyday there are guards patrolling more prevalently on our floor, and it never fails to remind me that that intruder was here, in my vicinity, just a mere week ago. And I never saw him. 

To make matters worse the intruder blew up the alchemy lab in his escape, and to this day no pony has found him. Thank Celestia I was off that day. Reports state that over a dozen were injured, one of which was in critical condition. They have me working longer days trying to clean up that mess, which I won't complain. It just makes me feel uneasy, seeing that level of destruction. It couldn't have been caused by any of the potions we had on that floor, so that meant that he must have come prepared, just in case he had to make an escape. At least, so I've heard from the rumors.

But Mara said I shouldn't dwell too much into it. Give it another few days and I'm sure this whole fiasco will die down. Hopefully someone finds that "Charlie Brown."

Any who, that's primarily why I am stressed, and I guess it does help to express this on paper. Aside from work life at home has been great! I baked a delicious mud pie for my family, and I got to spend time today with Mara and the twins. We watched Silly and Putty play their favorite game, "Queen of the Forest"-

The Doctor stopped there, as he and Aster shared the same look, their eyes wide from the revelation before them.

"Do you think?" Aster was first to ask.

"I think it just might!" the Doctor said, showing an excited grin.

"But, why would a game have the same name as the ghost?"

"Don't know, but that's another piece to our puzzle", the Doctor flipped through the following pages, skimming though in search for logs of importance. "Wow, Henry's last name makes a lot more sense now. He still talks about his job every here and there, not sure if that's important but you never know. But he seems to really like baking! Talks about it in almost every log! "Today I baked a cake with my family", "testing out my new cookies", "my wife will love what I've done with this coconut cream pie", oh! Here's one on monkey bread! "Can't wait to try this new recipe on monkey bread!" Oh wow! I should try that."

"Have you found anything important?" asked Aster, grinning at the Doctor's excitement for monkey bread.

"No, not yet, just the usual "diary" stuff. He talks about his job, he knows a lot about baking, he has two kids, a son and daughter who are twins, and he talks about his wife a lot. He's definatly a family stallion."

"Is his wife a scientist too?"

"No, she's a school teacher. Oh! Actually, she's a professor! At Mane City University! Mrs. Macaroon? Hmm, I wonder if Dean knew her. Let's see . . . Henry doesn't say much about her job. He brings it up occasionally but-" the Doctor stopped suddenly as he flipped the page. His face fell serious, telling Aster that he found something.

"Doctor? What is it?" Aster asked.

" . . . I think I just found a diary log that happened the day Discord attacked."

"What!?"

Aster's eyes went wide, and the Doctor read aloud.

Diary Log Ninety One

First off, do not forget! We are out of carrots. I won't be able to make carrot cake for Lulu's birthday unless I make grocery shopping a priority! 

Now, that aside I actually have something important to say. I am very concerned with the activity around Mane City. Or, specifically, the lack of activity.

First it was the scientist. Everything was fine until last week, when many of the scientist stopped coming in. Normally one or two may stay home for their own reason but dozens from several floors? Alchemist, wizards, scientist, experimentalists, many had stop coming to the lab, and it brought attention to the higher ups. From what I've heard they sent guards to locate them, but they are yet to be found. Shortly after we found out it wasn't just in the labs. Most staff throughout the castle had stopped coming to work, and they haven't been located either. Neither in their homes or in the city. They've all just vanished.

And it doesn't end there. Lately I've noticed several things that do not seem right to me. There have been strange plants growing throughout the city, inanimate objects have been coming to life and are acting like animals, and there's an overcast of pink clouds swirling above the castle, it feels rather unsettling to see. And what makes it stranger is that I don't believe any of this happened yesterday. The pink clouds, the strange plants, those just . . . appeared. I am unsure what any of th-"

By the looks of it, Henry had, apparently, stopped writing mid sentence. He continues again at the bottom, several lines down. And the Doctor took notice of his sudden messy handwriting.

Every page, up until then, was written neat and in cursive. With curves and round, bubbly lines that were, if the Doctor was being honest, actually rather cute. However, the hand writing at the bottom was plain, scratchy, practically scribbled as if someone was writing in a hurry.

"Diary Log Ninety One [Continued]

Something is wrong! Something is very wrong! I was just attacked by Sherman Ollywood, an alchemist in my department. Only, he's not acting right. He knocked down my front door and had this- crazy look in his eyes. His fur was all colorful and he, well, he looked like a clown. I don't think it was a prank either, he actually attacked me! I mean, actually assaulting me in my own home! I managed to get away, but I'm still shaken.

I'm writing this in my panic cellar. I'm trying to calm down, but hiding with him up there doesn't help. Hopefully a guard comes by and stops him. I hope Mara and the kids don't come home soon."

There was another pause in the log, and Henry continues writing on the following page. His words even messier now, evidently written by a panic stricken pony.

"Something is happening above!!! I can hear ponies screaming out there! Things are crashing and I think I hear something on fire! And I hear somepony laughing out there. Its so loud! It hurts my head!

The trap door is locked so I think I'm safe, but I'm starting to panic! I hear ponies running through my house now! It sounds like chaos out there! I can't even describe it! There's so much screaming, and that laughing! It won't stop!

I don't think its safe to leave anytime soon. Could this be related to the missing staff at the castle? Is that why we were ordered to stay home today? Is that why Sherman attacked me? Is he related to what's happening out there!?! And, what even is happening!?! It won't stop the noise is getting louder and louder! Their screaming and laughing! Its killing my head! Where are the guards!?!

I'm scared! I know I'm safe here but I'm afraid of someone finding my trap door and breaking in. I know its hidden but I can't help but think someone might find me! No one knows where the trap door is hidden. No one except-

The writing on the page had stopped. Confused, the Doctor flipped the page, only to find a single sentence written.


"They're still out there."


"W- What does he mean by that?" asked Aster.

"His family", said the Doctor, casting a worried look to Aster. "He said they sent him home, meaning he wasn't at work that day. But he says that "he" is in the cellar, he doesn't mention his family being there. He also says he hopes they don't come home soon, because Sherman was in their house. I think they were outside somewhere when Discord first attacked."

"But, where were they?"

Wondering that himself, the Doctor quickly flipped through the diary, finding the next entry posted after several empty pages. The writing was sloppy, and he noticed these pages were considerably dirty in comparison to the previous pages. Granted the diary was somewhat filthy, with dirt smears and splatters of black milk and what the Doctor figured was smeared spots of fuzzy mold. Even still, the beginning pages of Henry's diary seemed rather clean, and well kept. After Discord's take over, not so much.

And when the Doctor read on, he felt his heart sink at the time span between the two logs.

"Diary Log Ninety Two

Its been two weeks since Discord defeated the princesses. I've lost my faith in the alicorns and truly believe we are on our own. I've lost my home, my job, Mane City, but worst of all, I lost Mara. I lost my wife-"

Aster gasped, "oh no!"

The Doctor kept reading, "-despite all, however, I still have my children, and thank goodness I managed to get them out safely.

With my loss I feel myself grieving, but I cannot allow that to cloud my thoughts. I need to stay strong, for Silly and Putty. 

Along with a few boxes of supplies we managed to bring out of Mane City: food, water, clothes, a few other necessities, and a crate we found at a toy shop (I think Silly and Putty will love what's inside), I have kept with me the diary Mara gave me. This diary, it is all I have left to remind me of her. This and the twins of course. I write in it now so that it may give me hope. That, and for its original purpose. I am very stressed these days.

I guess I should recap. I can feel my mind wander lately so doing that helps remind me of why we are here.

After I left the cellar to search for my family I found all of Mane City in disarray. Ponies were fleeing from the infected, and those cotton candy clouds above the castle rained a storm of chocolate milk. I couldn't see clear enough to see what else was happening at the time, there was too much chaos to take it all in. And speaking of chaos, that laughing I heard turned out to come from the one responsible for this, for everything. A spirit of chaos named Discord.

The infected, I should mention, are ponies that Discord has manipulated. I don't know how it works exactly, but it seems his chaos magic is able to control the ponies he possesses, making them do things they otherwise wouldn't. Primarily, he uses these ponies to brain wash more ponies into becoming his slave. They spread like a disease, so I've come to terms in accepting this as an infection. I honestly don't know what else it could be. It seems all of the slaves objectives is to make more slaves. I wouldn't necessarily call it "puppeteering", he doesn't control them. He does influence them in a way, so they act out without control. I saw it first hoof at the children's school. That's where I found my family, and it is also where they took Mara from me.

I had found others who hadn't been taken by the chaos magic, and they helped me search for my family. I am ever so grateful for them. And if they were still here, I would be in their debts. Chimi, Noodles, Adrian, Connor, Whisp, I don't know if you are dead or if Discord keeps you alive. But whatever the case, thank you. Thank you so much. 

Chispy and Monika were the only ones who made it out of Mane City, aside from my children and I. The last I saw them they were mourning over their fallen friends, a few miles outside the city. I asked if they wanted to join us, but they thought it would be best if we left our separate ways. I didn't argue, I know how they felt, losing someone so close to you. They said they would travel north to the Crystal Empire, said they had family there. I hope they made it safe. As for us, we traveled south. 

No pony but the researchers at the lab know of this place. A house pass the borders of Equestria, hidden by a lake in the unclaimed territory. It is a house used for research, mainly environmental research. Its new and wasn't meant to be used until next spring, so no pony should be there. It has a few bedrooms from what I recall. A kitchen, bathrooms, and a basement. From what I heard the basement has cages for securing dangerous creatures. The researchers were going to study and release the creatures, but I doubt those cages are going to be of much use now. There's also a small lab in there, installed with damage control security. Not sure why that was built, makes me wonder what research they had in mind for that lab. But with a door like that we could still use that lab as a safe room-"

"Damage control?" asked Aster.

"The room next to us with the steel door. That room is the lab Henry is talking about, and its sealed with a door strong enough to shield ponies against danger. Explosions, spells, or animals, as he mentioned the use with those cages."

"But what happened? Why are those ponies in there now?"

"Only one way to find out", the Doctor said, tapping on the diary.

He continued reading, "Putty and Silly are asleep now, so I'm taking this time to write in my diary. Not just because it helps keep me focused, but, I haven't slept very well these past few days. In fact, if I'm being honest, I think I am growing ill.

My mind has been clouded ever since Mane City, and its getting worse. I can feel myself drifting at times, spacing out more and more frequently. Even my children have noticed. And not just that but that laughing, Discord's phycotic laughter at Mane City, I can still hear it. Its like a migraine that won't go away!

I was attacked back at Mane City, and one of the infected forced their magic into me. I remember it vaguely. It was hot, and felt like a gel or a liquid, flowing inside my body. The more magic that penetrated me, the hotter I became. Until it turns cold, them my body started to feel numb, and I almost lost consciousness. I believe this is what it feels like to become infected.

Luckily, I was saved by Noodles, bless her soul. She kicked the phantom slave off me and I felt released from the magic. And I felt fine, shaken, but fine, for awhile. Soon after we left Mane City did I feel this fogginess in my brain. And I could be wrong, I hope I'm wrong, it frightens me to think I'm not. But, I fear that something happened to me when I was attacked. When he forced his magic into me, I think some of it lingered inside me.

I cannot write any longer, I must try and sleep. We need to awake early if we are to make it to the lake house tomorrow.

Mara, if you can hear me, I love you."

"Sniff!"

The Doctor looked to Aster, who was wiping his teary eyes. "T- That's so sad!" said Aster.

The gears in the Doctor's mind were turning. Everything he had read, comparing it to everything he had discovered tonight. Putting in the pieces, he exclaimed, "oh! That makes sense!"

"Sniff! W- What does?" asked Aster.

"Hang on", said the Doctor, flipping through the pages. He wanted to find out more before he could summarize. Finding a page he found important, the Doctor read aloud.

"Diary Log One Hundred One Two

Putty and Silly have grown worse, and I have yet to figure out why. Meanwhile the preparations for the lab are complete. I hope I do not have to resort to that, but if I fail, I fear I have no other choice.

I have not yet found the cure for Silly and Putty. No matter how hard I try I cannot find ways to fight back against this "infection". I still do not know how Putty and Silly came to be infected in the first place.

They began showing signs of the infection later than I did. I am unsure why, but in the time they have shown these signs it is obvious that their conditions are worsening quicker than my own.

The infection, it seems, affects the mind and psyche, before altering the body physically. During certain episodes of the infection I have noticed that Putty and Silly's bodies can alter. Its subtle and easy to miss at times. However, the more sever episodes do leave the changes permanent, whereas the weaker ones revert the body to its original form. Both of the twins are loosing fur, and I think Silly is starting to turn blue. I've also noticed their saliva has turned black, something I cannot even fathom what it means.

As for their psyche, Putty and Silly are starting to falter. With each passing day Silly is becoming more and more energetic, and often I find it difficult to so much as ask her to settle down. She's shouting and jumping, which seems normal for a child. Only, she never appears to grow tired. Its as if the infection is providing endless amounts of energy to her cardiovascular system. Perhaps it has healing abilities? Restoring the lost energy in her lungs and heart that prevent her from ever feeling fatigue? That would explain her lack of pain sensitivity. As with her increase in energy she tends to play rough. And in these pass few days I have seen her fall from trees taller than this house, and walk away only feeling angry. On a side note I have noticed she has become increasingly faster. Whether by infection or not I can't help but feel somewhat proud at her speed. Though when she runs through the walls it does tend to get difficult repairing it with what little we have.

And Putty, he seems to be turning the opposite route. His demeanor has shifted from his "go lucky" happy personality, to this stoic, rock face, emotionless colt. He finds little excitement in anything. Or, so it seems to me. He claims he's still enjoying himself, but I never see it. He hardly does his own thing anymore. Every time I check on them I see Putty playing along with his sister, seeming more invested in keeping his sister happy than giving himself a good time. I guess that ties in with his original personality. Putty was always caring for his sister, but I remember that he still found time to keep himself happy. Now, that doesn't seem to be the case. And those two are always playing that same game of theirs, that "Queen of the Forest" game. They pretend to be a King and Queen of the Forest, and they search for ponies in their forest to make them "princesses". Its rather adorable, though distracting whenever they try to get Mike involved-"

"Mike? Who's Mike?" asked Aster.

Quickly, the Doctor skimmed through previous pages to find out. "Uh, oh! It says here he's a traveler. He came to this house one night and asked for food. Henry instead offered him to stay and help him with his experiments. So he did, and he basically became his lab assistant after, to help Henry find the cure for the chaos magic. Only, there's this bit here."

"I have told Mike to cut his hair a hundred times now but he refuses. I don't know why he keeps it that way, those curls are going to get us both killed. I swear if I catch his hair dipping in my potions again I will lose it!"

Aster seemed confused, "w- what was important about that?"

"Henry said Mike had curls, curly hair."

"And?" 

"Back in the cages, that orange stallion. I think that's Mike", the Doctor explained.

Aster gasped, "w- what!? B- But Mike was helping Henry, wasn't he?"

"From what it says here, yeah."

"B- But why would he be in there?"

"Don't know, let's find out", said the Doctor, flipping back to his page and skipping a few paragraphs.

"None of the tests have worked. Each potion after the next have failed in curing us from the chaos infection. I fear it is only a matter of time before it consumes us.

But I mustn't give up, my children's conditions are worse than mine. If I cannot succeed in finding a cure I will lose them soon, as I did Mara. And then, I will soon lose myself.

I am scared, Mara. I am so scared of losing my children. I cannot lose them too. I have not stopped thinking of you ever since Mane City. I wish you were here, to help me-

I can't think right now, I'm losing my focus again. 

I will write again later. Its becoming difficult to update my diary. But I feel that it helps."

The Doctor flipped through a few pages, skimming the following entries. "Henry doesn't write very much after that. Each entry is smaller than the last. And his hoofwriting is worsening."

"That's bad, right?" asked Aster.

"Yes, because it means the chaos magic is taking over him. He's losing his mind and- oh. Look at this-" The Doctor showed Aster the next diary log.

The handwriting was a mess, several words were misspelled, and the following pages appeared blotted with small, black, droplets.

"Didary Log Fortee Wone Fortee Fortee Forforo

Mara    Mara    Mara  M ara     Mara-

The potions aren't working Mara, they are all not Mara their not working Mara not working.

I cont breath i don't think im- i don't know where i am im- i cant i c- 

Office- the office, I nead focUS!! i am in the office. Mara, oh Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara Mara- Putyyyy is gone. AND SILLLS IS GONE TOO!!! I doent no wher they ar. I cont find them. I cont help any more. I cont brath i cant sleeeep i cant think i cantbreath i can slepp i cant- i cant- i cants



Laughing, all I hear is laughing. He won't stop laughing at me. And by thy right I speaketh to the heavens




GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!



Mike is all i have left, hes promise to watch our childrin. He knows where they are. I trust him. 

MaraMaraMaraMaraMaraMaramARAmaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramara-

Mara, Mara, Mara

I cannot give up. I must save them."

The Doctor flipped the page, finding the following pages scribbles with random words.

"He's in my head". "Mara, Mara, Mara, Mara". "He will cure them now". "Endless laughter". Another failure". "Heal them, cure them, heal them, cure them". "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!". "DON'T GIVE UP!!!" "FAILURE, FAILURE, FAILURE, FAILURE!!!" "DON'T GIVE UP!!!"

The Doctor flipped to the final page, with a single message scrawled in the center.


Save Them
0174
 

The Doctor played it through in his head, from start to finish. The events that transpired during Discord's take over, to the time Henry spent here in the forest. The ponies in the cages, the two ghosts, the Queen of the Forest.

"The doctor has fallen, the children have fallen. Long live the king, long live the queen", the Doctor thought aloud. He looked to Aster, who returned an uneasy expression. "It all makes sense now!"

"What? W- Why the ghosts are foulnapping ponies?" asked Aster.

"No, well yes, but not just that! Its not just why those ponies have been foalnapped, but also who they were foalnapped by!"

"You mean the ghosts? But the diary didn't say anything about them-"

"No, Aster! Those ghosts are not ghosts! Weren't you paying attention to the dairy?"

"I did, but nothing made sense at the end! It was nothing but a bunch of scribbles."

"But that's were the answers are! Those "scribbles" explain what happened at the end, when Henry lost to the chaos magic!

"Look, we know Henry is a family stallion from the beginning of his dairy. The family consists of him, his wife, and his twin children, a colt and a filly. Now, all night we have been attacked by two ghosts. A mare and a stallion. Now, if we truly are under attack by "ghosts", than why only two? Where's the rest of the family?"

"Dean did mention something similar", Aster stated.

"And for a good reason. The mother isn't here! Henry says he lost her back in Mane City, so she might still be there as we speak. But that's just one family member. If we can assume those two ghosts are part of the family, than that leaves one missing. So, where is he?"

"Oh, I, um, I'm not sure. M- Maybe in one of those cages?" Aster guessed.

"Good guess, but nope. In those cages we have Larkspur, Mike, and two strangers. Mike was the first to be captured and Larkspur was most recent. The other two happened sometime in between. And I believe, if were putting the pieces in properly, Mike was captured shortly after Henry lost himself."

"I don't understand. Henry and his twins all had chaos magic. It said in the diary that the children were being affected by the chaos magic quicker than he was. From what your saying, does that mean that Putty and Silly foalnapped Mike?"

"Yes, that's exactly what that means."

"B- But that would mean Putty and Silly are the ghosts!"

"Yes, yes it does."

"B- But why would they do that after Henry lost himself? Why didn't they do anything beforehoof?" asked Aster.

The Doctor thought for a moment, piecing it together, before it made sense. "Because he's their father."

"What?"

"Starting from the beginning, Henry and his family were in Mane City during Discord's attack. They escaped but were attacked by, as he describes them, "the infected", during their time in Mane City. After they escaped they made their way here, to this lake house. However, along the way Henry notices his children exhibiting odd and strange behavior that is similar to the effects that he has. And soon after confirms that he and his children are "infected" by chaos magic. After arriving at the here, Henry uses the lab in the basement to find a cure for the chaos magic. Soon Mike comes along and is offered a place to stay and shortly after the children lose themselves to chaos magic. Mike isn't taken prisoner until after Henry loses himself to the chaos magic. An unknown time later those other ponies come along and are foalnapped, and even more unknown time later you and Larkspur come along and he is foalnapped. Now, does that sound about right?"

"I- I think so-"

"Wrong!" the Doctor said loudly, startling Aster. "One detail, one crucial, incredibly important detail is wrong with that. And I'll tell you exactly what that is!"

The Doctor pointed to the diary, explaining with a grin. "As Henry says in his diary, he offers Mike shelter in this very house! Mike is described as a wonderer, not a beggar or homeless pony, but a wonderer! And I can tell you from experience, wonderers travel with no destination in mind. If he did, Henry would have described him as a "traveler". And I know that because, well, obviously the two must've talked. And describing Mike as a wanderer is quite specific. With that in mind, wanderers, well, wander with no destination. So, most of the time we travel without knowing exactly where we are going. Therefor, we have no idea when the next stop for food or shelter will be. And if Mike was wondering these forests hungry, and he came across this place, well he must've considered himself lucky. However, it says he only asked for food and instead is offered shelter. And reading on, Mike takes up the offer and stays for awhile. Mike only wanted food, and is offered more than that. If I didn't know any better, I'd say Mike and Henry develops a friendship from this. Because if I were in Mikes shoes I know that I would feel gratitude towards Henry. And perhaps, maybe he wanted to return the favor in a way."

"Return the favor? How so?" asked Aster.

"Henry says it one time, in one sentence". The Doctor flipped to the page and read aloud, "Mike is all i have left, hes promise to watch our childrin. He knows where they are. I trust him". He closed the diary, "Mike is all I have left". Mike was the last one standing without chaos magic. He, out of the four of them, was the only one who wasn't "infected". And Henry says that Mike, "promises to watch our children", and, "he knows where they are", that's because Mike truly does know where the children are! They never left! Henry says he lost his children and that he doesn't know where they are, but that's not exactly it! You see, the children are losing themselves to chaos magic the same time Henry is. So, once the children have lost themselves entirely, Henry must have been not too far behind. And at that point, Henry must have not been able to recognize his own children anymore. The chaos magic had altered them too much, and with his own mind dwindling away he must have thought his children were gone. But they weren't, they were still here in this house! Because Mike, the only one not infected, knew who those children were despite their changes. And he promised to watch over them while he was gone."

"So, why is Mike in the cage than?" asked Aster.

"Because after Henry was gone, the kids no longer had a father holding them back. And of course, Mike was a new friend. Despite his promise the children could hardly consider him family. So, treating a stranger as a stranger, they foalnapped Mike and locked him in the cage. Because their father was no longer there to stop them."

"But why foalnap him?"

"To make him a princess of course."

"W- What?"

"Discord's magic changes ponies, corrupts them and misshapens them. Altering their minds, their bodies, but their souls are still in there. And altered or not, those children are still children. They're simply playing a game! That's what all of this is! A game! The same game Henry mentions in his dairy! The King and Queen of the Forest, searching for travelers to turn into princesses!" 

The Doctor points to the ceiling, "those ghosts up their are Putty and Silly! And their playing a game! And they don't know that its wrong! Because the chaos magic has corrupted their minds! And they truly believe that everypony that comes into this forest is part of their game! Mike was the first one to become a princess! And since the diary stops without mentioning the others, I think it safe to assume the others were just as unfortunate as you and Larkspur. Whether they were camping like you two or wandering like Mike, the results were the same. Silly or Putty discovers them, foulnaps them, then makes them "princesses". Infecting them with chaos magic as well."

Aster gasped, "so- so Larkspur is infected!"

"No, no he's not."

"B- but you said-"

"No, what I said was right! Its what Henry said in his diary that's wrong!"

"W- What is it?"

"W- What is it? Come now Aster, don't you know how magic works?"

"I- I don't understand-"

"Its the infection! The infection, Aster! Henry has been trying to cure a "chaos infection" this whole time! Making potions and treating this like some sort of plague! But that's the problem! The one crucial, important detail that Henry had wrong! That is why Henry was never able to find a cure! There's no such thing as a "chaos infection!"






Dean






"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!" the phantom screamed furiously. Galloping and plowing through bushes, stomping as she ran and digging up bits of the ground, splattering dirt in her wake. 

Dean made a hop over a bush and a turn left, and the phantom followed. The bush was crushed and ripped from its roots, pushed aside as she ran through, following Dean's turn, and another as Dean turned right. He ran in a zigzag for a moment, before glancing over his shoulder. The gap was around eight feet, he reckoned. He had maintained a good distance so far, but it was becoming overwhelming. His body, not used to physical tasks, had become tired quickly. His lungs were heaving and sore, his heart was pounding, and the strenuous running for this long had made him dizzy. Yet he remained level headed, maintaining a level of tolerance to withstand his fatigue as he focused solely on a plan. 

He was tired and he couldn't run for much longer, so a chance to rest would be good now. How he would find that chance, he needed an opportunity where the phantom would lose sight of him. He will hide and she will find him, and he surely wouldn't have long before she did, but he figured a small breather would be better than to continue running. How exactly would he lose her trail on him? He had an idea, involving a somewhat advance whip maneuver. One that ponies older than him have had trouble doing, but being the child of two master whip wielders he had managed to be adept at the maneuver at a surprisingly young age. Adept, not a master, like his parents. 

That, and he hadn't so much as held a whip in a little over a year. Out of practice and less experienced, it was concerning to Dean if he could even manage it. Than again, he figured he wouldn't know unless he tried. And with his rising fatigue he found it to be a struggle thinking of an alternative option. He needed to rest, he needed that breather, or he would collapse soon from exhaustion. 

Deciding it was his best option, he took a deep breath, muttering, "now or never." 

Quickly, Dean searched the ground several feet ahead for two things: a large bush and the largest objects possible; rocks, sticks, anything. Luckily, it didn't take long to find both. Coming up close by a bush, Dean spotted what was either a large stick or a small branch. He didn't know and he didn't care, it was perfect. Bringing his right leg back and galloping on three's, Dean positioned the whip and struck it forth. Throwing his leg in a downward motion and striking the whip towards the branch. Cracking loudly, the whip latched around the branch perfectly. He then pulled the whip back hard, swinging it behind him while bringing the branch with it, held in the whips grasp. Dean took a glimpse to better aim at the phantom, and he was spot on. Altering his angle just slightly to allow the whip, and the branch, to swerve to his left.

The phantom wasn't dead center, she chased him inches on his left side. With the proper angle, the whip swerved back, and like a swinging punch, the branch hit the phantom above her left eye. Enough so to deter her off course, and left her dazed for a moment. 

A second after, looking back to the bush, Dean hopped over, pulling back and retracting his whip mid-leap. He landed as hard as he could, dragging slightly and bringing up as much dirt as he could, then he continued running. The phantom, swerving around the bush, returned to her course behind Dean.

Dean's attack lingered with her cheek stinging, and she had to shake her head to focus her dizzied sight. It infuriated her, a pony like this attacking a queen such as her. It was barbaric, it was a crime, it was not how to play tag. Hurting, angry, the phantom bellowed an ear splitting screech. One Dean had heard several times tonight, and it never ceased to make his ears sore.

The echoes of her scream lasted a good while, as Dean swerved around a thick tree.

The phantom followed, chasing around the tree. However, in her anger and the size of the tree, she hadn't notice where Dean had actually ran to. 

Dean, since the chase began, had made zig-zag patterns; making a turn, running forth, making the opposite turn, and repeating. She had expected this to be no different. But all of a sudden, the phantom followed with Dean's turn, only to find him not there.

Stomping hooves deep into dirt, dragging to stop herself, the phantom search frantically for Dean. It took her a second to realize that, instead of continuing forward, Dean had actually swerved around the tree in a complete one eighty. Now, Dean was galloping back in the direction they had come from, returning to the bush he just hopped over. Having missed him by only a second increased the gap exponentially, extending well over two dozen yards. It angered her, Dean passing her like that, but it was little compared to what Dean did next.

He ran to the bush, in the very spot he land, and stopped. Heaving hard, Dean started digging, bringing up the soft dirt into a pile beside him. And she notice Dean glancing up to her as he dug, keeping check on her. His brows furrowed and jaw clenched, appearing like he was waiting for her to come. 

She hadn't the faintest idea what Dean was doing, but with him looking at her that way, she saw it as a taunt. A taunt and a threat. In her mind Dean was asking for her to approach, he was going to do something. To humiliate the queen and make her night worse. She wasn't going to have it.

She was absolutely boiling when she galloped, charging forward hard enough to blast two bucket loads of dirt in her wake. 

This colt, this stupid colt, he had made her angry all night. And the longer she chased him the angrier she became. She wanted the chase to end right this very moment. Angry, impatient, and blinded because of it, and little did she know that's just what Dean wanted.

Hitting her with that branch was only part of his plan. He knew it wouldn't do much, remembering those explosions earlier that she was able to walk off. But he had to upset her more than she already was. She was angry, but that wasn't enough. He needed her boiling, blinded in rage. And with the tamper she has shown tonight, Dean knew it wouldn't take much to manage that. He knew that stress or anger could affect ones concentration, and he had seen a blind rage first hand before, back at Mane City.

It was a funny memory, walking along the sidewalk to the bakery. It was warm and bright, and on a Sunday, the day Mr. and Mrs. Lemon baked fresh batches of lemon meringue. Dean was on his way to buy one when he heard a dispute between two ponies, loud enough to draw a crowd.

He didn't know what the dispute was about nor how it started, but he arrived just in time to see how it ended.

Two stallion, one yellow with neat green hair and a swirly tail; the other gray, a balding brown mane, wearing a green tie. And he looked quite tired, evident by the bags under his eyes. 

Dean never heard much from the yellow stallion, but the gray stallion, in a blind rage, shouted something obscene to the yellow stallion. A vulgar and inappropriate insult, alluring a simultaneous gasp from the crowd and Dean himself. And he had to keep himself from laughing. Not at the insult, but at the two Mane City guards who stood next to him, hearing everything the gray stallion had said.  

From where they stood, they were clearly in the gray stallion's point of view. And if he hadn't been in a rage, he would have noticed them. The guards detained him for public disturbance and Dean left happy that the gray stallion received his comeuppance.    

And Dean figured if that stallion didn't notice guards standing in plain sight because he was too angry, what if the ghost could possibly lose him because she was too angry?

He took a chance, and it worked. With her enraged he was able to avoid her around the tree and return to the spot of dirt he had landed in. Extending the gap far enough to allow him the time to do what he had planned. He needed to return here, it was the reason he had to hop over a bush.

The forest was humid and practically dripping with moister. Having galloped all this time Dean noticed that the majority, if not all of the dirt, had felt quite damp. He could feel the ground push in with each step he took, and digging it up was all to easy. Which is why he had to hop, landing on the ground with all his might and intentionally dragging to dig out as much dirt as possible. He didn't know how much time he had to return and continue digging, so he want to dig out the most he could in one hop. 

With a growing pile of wet dirt beside him, the whip in his hoof, and the charging, enraged phantom, Dean was ready for his maneuver. And as expected, she was charging blindly, most likely too angry to care what Dean is up too. She was charging, and he only had seconds to stand on two and do it.


The Rusty Cyclone


Dean twirled the whip horizontally in a fast circular motion, looping it around the pile of dirt. As Dean increased the whips acceleration, bits of dirt had begun to lift, carried by the air formed from the whips speed. As it lifted, it whirled about counter clockwise, forming what looked like a tiny tornado. The faster and longer he spun, the larger it grew, picking up more and more of that pile of dirt. And as he expected, it was difficult. This maneuver required precise balance, a perfect repeat in movements, as well as a hint of his own earth pony magic, allowing the dirt to follow more smoothly along his whip. 

The phantom, not caring about the dirt, had galloped and lunged forward, jumping sprawled in the air like a tiger pouncing on its pray.

And the timing couldn't be more perfect. With the phantom in mid-leap, and the dirt devil big enough, Dean gave the whip a quick and small flick, careful to not over or under do it. Too hard and the dirt would splatter, too weak and he would lose his hold. He managed it, and the whip followed the maneuver, just the way he remembered it to.

With a small flick, Dean was able to adjust the direction of his swirl without losing his motion. The whip initially facing the ground, around the pile, now darted upwards, facing the swirling dirt spiral directly at the phantom. 

And there it was, the Rusty Cyclone. A maneuver that allowed an earth pony to pick up loose dirt using only the air that spiraled within the boundaries of a whirling whip. But the maneuver wouldn't be finished unless the wielder successfully lifted the dirt and spiraled the cyclone in a direction of their choosing, as Dean managed to now. 

This maneuver, he never imagined he had to use it for self defense. When he was taught he remembered this maneuver being used in shows and rodeos, and generally, it was used for fun. Watching ponies created their own vertical tornadoes using their whips, it was a magical experience. He didn't know it could be used for self defense until his father told him at a fair when he was six. 

If done successfully, the cyclone of dirt would surround the pony that has been caught. The wind speed would spiral the dirt fast enough to harm the pony inside the cyclone, slowing them down and even potentially pushing them back. Not only that, but the spiraling dirt would also irritate the enemy's eyes and would make the air unbreathable. The cyclone wouldn't last long because the pony inside would disrupt the air flow, canceling the wind speed seconds after they entered and releasing all of the dirt within the wielder's hold. But that was perfectly fine.

As Dean remembered from his lessons, this maneuver isn't for offense, its for defense. A maneuver that would allow the defender to subdue the attacker long enough for the defender to either escape, or detain. Solely a defensive maneuver, not intended for lasting harm or serious injuries. Perhaps that's why Dean was able to remember this particular maneuver. Thinking back, he was never interested in the maneuvers that kill. It felt wrong to use those, even if he was taught how to.

The phantom was caught, entering dead center into the spiral in her leap. The sudden assault of dirt blinded and choked her, disrupting her attack and deterring her center of balance. Covering her eyes and screaming, the phantom fell on her belly hard, dragging face first into the bush behind Dean. 

Dean had to step out of the way as she landed, which made him lose his concentration, thus canceling the Rusty Cyclone. The dirt fell and the whip's wind eradicated instantaneously the moment the cyclone was canceled. Dean looked to the phantom, writhing, screaming, and coughing with her head in the bush, before he turned away and galloped off.

Now was his chance and he didn't want to ruin it. First he ran just to make a distance, then he zigzagged again, keeping his path as complex as possible to make it difficult for her to find him. Finally, he ran in search of a good place to hide. However, there was a small problem.

He knew that with the ground as soft as it was he was leaving hoof prints behind. His complex path would help, but not if he left a trail right towards him. He was hoping to find a dry spot of land. Even a little dryer than the majority of the land, so that he could find a place to hide while leaving as little marks as possible. 

But shortly, he had a better idea. It came to him as he made a glance up to the trees. He had to take a glance every few seconds, to make sure he didn't collide into any trees. As he did a thought came to him suddenly. Running through the forest reminded Dean of the swamp that he and the Doctor galloped through just two days ago, and he was reminded of the vines that attacked him. The vines that wrapped the trees and slithered through the swamp like snakes. But this thought brought on another memory, an older one. 

He remembered about a book his parents read to him in bed when he was five. A book with monkeys swinging on vines. He liked the monkeys and remembered pretending to be one the days that followed. His parents found it adorable and played along. 

One day his father, pretending to be a monkey as well, took out his whip and brought Dean to the woods, over the mountain miles from Dodge Junction. His father climbed a tall tree, bringing Dean along with him as he held onto his back. And at the top, with Dean holding tightly to his father, his father latched his whip to the closet tree, wrapping it around the branch. Once he had a firm grip, he counted to three, before he jumped off the branch, bringing Dean along with him.

Dean screamed, and then he laughed, as he and his father swung like monkeys. His skillful father swung the two of them downwards and up. And as the two rose high enough, Dean's father would release his hold on the branch and crack his whip to another tree, one that was further away. He would catch a new branch and they would swing from there. And his father would repeat the process. Like monkeys in a jungle swinging from one vine to the next.

It wasn't until he was ten that his father taught him how to Whip Swing properly. And luckily for him this maneuver was easier. All it required was precision, experience in latching, a good whip, and sheer upper body strength. Though he lacked strength, and he was sure this toy whip could hardly hold his weight, his precision and latching whips was no issue for him.

Making his plan, Dean ran in a straight line for awhile, finding a path clear of tree for the next three dozen yards. He stomped as he ran, wanting his marks to really show at this part. Then, six yards away before the next tree, where he would need to swerve to avoid it, Dean spotted a nice, strong tree to his left, five feet away. He wanted a further tree, but this toy whip was made for the size of a child, and extended six feet max. 

It was humorous how small it was, in comparison to his father's whip at home, ranging a solid thirty feet. Then again, whips that size are usually only made for whip wielders, he couldn't imagine those types of whips being made for common barnyard chores. Not to mention how incredibly heavy they were. The longer the whip the heavier it was, and was generally made of thicker, stronger material, instead of the usual wool, rope, and wood mix strings. So a puny, rubber whip this size wasn't actually that bad for a child. He had made do with it so far.

He found the tree, and made his shot. Cracking the whip towards the targeted branch and latching it perfectly. He had to make quite the jump to reach it, but he managed. A slight tug told him he had it locked, and he managed to swing along the tree. Struggling as the whip carried him from the path, and around to the back of the tree. 

Just before he was going to land, he heard something "snap" and felt the latch on the branch suddenly give way. He fell to the ground hard and braced himself, thinking that his weight was too much for the branch and it broke, and was about to fall. Only it didn't, and a moment later Dean looked up and gasped. 

It wasn't the branch that couldn't withstand his weight, it was the whip. A toy rubber whip wasn't made for maneuvers such as this, and of course it broke. Snapped about half way, with the top half still latched around the tree, hanging there like the vines in that swamp.

Breath heavily, Dean laid down, resting behind the tree and catching his breath. As he did, Dean looked to how much whip he had left. 

The thicker, bottom half was still there, but it was badly damaged. There was only two feet of whip, scratched, dented, and torn through the rubber. He assumed it must have become like this after the Rusty Cyclone. Worst of all, part of the whip was bent, and stretching out of the handle. A small block of wood three inches thick and four inches long held the whip and the handle together. One half of the block inside the whip, and the other half inside the handle. That was to keep the base straight, the outer rim of the whip was held by four pairs of twin strings. Now, after the maneuvers, the strings had become loose, and some were ripped or missing entirely. A few strings remained, barely keeping the handle and whip together. And the whip had been pulled out slightly, exposing the block within a small sliver.

He closed his eyes to rest and listened for the phantom. He wasn't sure what he would do without the whip, but he knew it wouldn't last much longer. One more attack, he reckoned, that's all it would take. After that, maybe haul tail back to the house beside the lake? That is, if he could even find it. He was too tired to even guess where he was at the moment.

It lasted longer than he had expected. A good five minutes he had rested, before he heard heavy hoof steps appearing from the distance. They stomped louder, becoming more apparent the closer she was. Dean hushed his breathing to keep silent, not daring to take a peek at her. 

She approached from Dean's previous path, following his hoofsteps. And as she stopped at the end of his trail, Dean knew his plan had worked.

The phantom looked puzzled, searching about before stomping her hoof, hard enough for Dean to feel the ground rumble. "Nnnnooooo!!!" the phantom growled. She stomped her hooves repetitively with each consecutive shouted, "no, no, no, no, no, noooo!!!" 

There was a pause as Dean waited in anticipation, hearing only the phantom breathing furiously. After a moment, the phantom "huffed" loudly, and walked away stomping her hooves. Reminiscent of the tempered child that she was.

Dean waited and listened as the phantom's hard steppes faded. Once she was gone, Dean took a sigh of relief. His plan had worked better than he thought. By now she was searching for him, and he had his hooves crossed, hoping that his hiding place wouldn't be the first spot she looked. Luckily it wasn't, and Dean was relieved, now that he had a few extra minutes to rest, and to figure what his next plan was.

He had been out for a while. Long enough, he figured, for the Doctor to have rescued the foalnapped ponies. The second phantom was probably already there, so he was sure they were already dealing with him. If he returned now and found that this was the case, he could help them escape from the second phantom and bring the foalnapped ponies back to the M.E.I.D.P.H.A.T. Either that, or they had already left to the M.E.I.D.P.H.A.T, and he would have to find it himself. But that shouldn't be the case, the Doctor should know that he doesn't know where it is. The Doctor wouldn't leave him without him knowing where to go, right? Dean assumed so, still, with the second phantom attacking them they might not have the option of waiting for him. 

He knew the Doctor could handle the second phantom, so it was only a matter of getting back in time before they left without him. Thankfully, Dean made sure to keep a general idea on how to return.

With his break Dean found it easier to think properly, and figure how to retrace his path. Following his hoofsteps, he figured he might be able to return to the bush where he performed the Rusty Cyclone. That would be a good place to use for a checkpoint. From there, if he had left hoof prints prior to the Rusty Cyclone, it would only be a matter of following those prints as far back as possible. If he was lucky it would lead him all the way back to the lake house. If not, and he found himself lost, he could always try to find the river. As he remembered, following the river would lead to the lake, thus returning him to the lake house. And if that were the case, he could only hope that he doesn't follow the wrong direction and end up at the wrong lake.

Dean took a deep breath before standing to his hooves. Peering around the tree, he checked for the phantom. When she was nowhere in sight, Dean hopped out of his hiding spot, back onto the path he ran on, and followed his hoof prints backwards. He walked quickly, but kept his pace to not burn the energy he just recovered.

Five minutes later, Dean returned to an area that was familiar, and was happy to see a bush with a smile pile of dirt in front of it. He guessed his cyclone didn't pick up all of the dirt, he wasn't surprised. Master wielders can pick up entire piles ten times the size he used, and he was only adept. Still, he was quite impressed with himself. Whatever dirt he did manage to pick up and blast at the phantom had splattered about all over the ground, spreading out ten feet in front of the pile. Dean noticed the loose dirt that was spread from his cyclone, simply because he was the one who spread it. Had any other pony stumbled here, with the darkness, the fog, and that it was just loose dirt on a ground of grass and dirt, they wouldn't have known that something transpired here. Not that he expected anyone to be out here at all. He could hardly believe that even he was out here, and yet, here he was.

Tired, hungry, fatigued, sore muscles, hungry, his lungs hurt, hungry, and the adrenaline was wearing off, so his ailments felt worse, and he was beginning to feel just how cold it was outside. And with his fur plastered in sweat and dirt, the gentle, humid breeze shivered Dean, giving him goosebumps. Also, he was hungry. Really, really, hungry. 

Cinnamon and apple oatmeal sounded brilliant, with a side of hot cider and gram crackers. Or, perhaps a fresh banana and cashew loaf, drizzled in cinnamon honey, served with a side of buttermilk and spiced mango slices. Or, caramelized oven roasted apple skins, with sweet potato muffins and lemon pudding. Oh! No, cereal! That's what he wanted. A nice big bowl of Sun Flakes. Wheat flakes mixed with raisins and clusters of oats, washed down with milk, sweetened by the cereal and fruit. Yes, that sounded delicious. So, so delicious.

Dean shook his head, popping the images of food out of his mind. He had gotten distracted and noticed how far he had walked. Four dozen yards past the bush, as he looked down and saw two sets of hoofprints that he was following. He realized he must have been following the trail subconsciously, while in his short day dream of food.

The hoof prints were visible enough for Dean to follow for awhile, he was glad that was the case. Now he didn't need to puzzle his way back to the house.

It didn't take too long for Dean to walk a good distance from there. It certainly felt that way, with him peering over his shoulder frequently, fearing the phantom may just pop out at anytime. To Dean it felt like an hour, when it actually took him ten minutes to travel this far. 

At this point his eyes had grown heavy, and he allowed his head to droop every so often. He kept his focus on the trail, but he also allowed his eyes to rest here and there as well. He knew he shouldn't, that he needed to focus on the trail and the phantom. But he was tired and desperately wanted to rest. So he allowed himself short spans of seconds to allow his eyes to, at the very least, close and shield themselves from the brisk breeze. 

He had abused his body enough today, straining it through perilous tasks that his body had never done before. Back at Mane City, before Discord, before the Doctor, Dean would have been asleep right now. Sleeping until six to awake for another day of school, or over sleeping from studying too late at night and scrambling to arrive at the university on time the following morning. He would learn from class to class, and eat his meals, then go home to study, and study, and get a snack, then study, eat dinner, study, go to bed, debate whether he should rest or continue studying, then most likely study some more.   

A routine he never thought twice about. Not because he enjoyed this way of living, and he didn't dislike it either. He just never thought of any other way to live before. Grow up, go to college, get a job, live your life, so on and so forth. He never imagined any alternative style of living other than studying in the safety of Mane City. He wanted to be an astronomer after all, how else could he achieve that without frequent study?

Three square meals a day, guards always on patrol to protect, a rich and prosperous city practically void of crime, it was a wonderful place to live. He never felt threatened, he was always fed, and the most exercise he had to do was on those days where he was running late, galloping from home to class. The most stress he ever really felt was the posh rich ponies insulting him for his accent, or that he wasn't as wealthy as the majority of the city. School was never an issue. It wasn't the best, but he found studying to be quite enjoyable. In short, up until now, Dean's life had been relaxing, aside from the bullies from his adolescent years. He never had to flee and fight for his life. He wouldn't be shivering and tired in a forest, or risking his life for other ponies. Yet here he was, doing just that. Which brought up the question he had been asking himself more and more recently. What had changed? What made him want to do this, knowing he had never done it before? Of course, part of him already knew why. The Doctor.

Dean opened his eyes to check on the trail. They were still there, and he was still on track. So he looked up from the path, hoping to see how much further he had. 

He had done this a few times already. Hoping to see through the trees and see the house by the lake. Each time he looked he would only see trees, spread thick across the distance, blocking his destination from view. He hadn't expected to see it, and his eyes shot open when he did.

It was still a distance away but there it was, like looking through a crack in the wall, the house was slightly visible through the thick of trees. He squinted but didn't see the Doctor or Aster, or the second phantom. So, that must mean they either left, or are still inside.

Either way, he hadn't any more time to lose. Picking up his pace Dean jogged towards the house, feeling a surge of excitement and success.

CRACK!!!

Dean turned to a sound and was pushed off his hooves. He found himself in the air, his hat fell off, and the next thing he knew it he slammed into the ground. He tumbled and hit his side against a tree hard, winded as the collision left a nasty bruise. He grabbed his side with one hoof and lifted himself with his armed leg, choking for air. Looked over, Dean felt his heart drop.

The phantom filly, had spotted him, and she had rushed from no where, pushing Dean with all her might, slamming him into the tree.

Her tendril hair hovered about, aimed to Dean like a squad of pythons ready to strike. The phantom giggled as she stepped towards Dean, glaring and smiling maliciously. "Pretty, pretty, PRINCESS!!! You can't run anymore!!! Let the Queen of the Forest make you HERS!!!" 

Dean rose to his hooves coughing. He felt pain surge through his right ribs, and it made him strain to stand. But he managed and glared at the phantom, feeling an unfamiliar emotion. He had been angry before, but this, something about this phantom made him furious. 

He had done so much tonight, and reminding himself of that empowered him with a surge of energy. A will to fight back and win against this phantom. Mixed with a sudden mass of hate. 

The persistent phantom, chasing him and attacking over and over. She hurt the Doctor, she hurt Aster, and she wouldn't stop attacking him. He was so close to the lake house, yet here she was again to stop him. He wanted her to stop, he wanted her to be gone. She just wouldn't leave him alone, and that made him boil. 

And Dean did something he had never done before: he snapped.

His will to fight, his anger to the phantom, it made him stand to his hind hooves. Breathing heavily, Dean roared at the phantom, "I've had about enough of you, your highness!" Dean attacked with his whip, shouting, "you will not take me!!!"

Dean had become overzealous, and forgot that his whip had broke. With only two feet to use, the whip cracked between he and the phantom, missing the four feet it needed to reach the phantom. 

The whip returned to Dean, and Dean, having realized his situation, froze. He looked to his whip with a dropped jaw, and the phantom looked to Dean with a smug smile. He looked to the phantom, back to his whip, the phantom, his whip. Then suddenly, in a moment of panic, he tried to attack again without thinking. He had managed to keep a level head so far, but after being chased for this long, and fighting against what seemed like an unstoppable entity, Dean was loosing his confidence. He acted without thinking, and it cost him. 

The phantom was ready for Dean's attack and thrust one of her hairs forth. It was easy this time, now that she knew what Dean was going to do; and Dean had become slower, with even the phantom noticing how tired he looked. She caught his whip before it cracked and ripped it from his grip. Dean had no chance to pull it back as it was slipped from his hoof.

The phantom took away his whip and laughed like a victorious psycho, before her hair, whip in grasp, extended to the sky. It rose above the trees and threw the whip away in a powerful thrust, far into the forest, so that Dean could never find it. Her hair then retracted, returning to its original state. She gave Dean a smile that practically asked, "what are you going to do now?"

Dean was stiff and wide eyed, his only defense ripped from his grasp and thrown away. Now, he was vulnerable. No plan, no weapon, and no place to hide. Just he and the phantom, face to face in this forest.

Dean gulped and chuckled, as he reverted his accent back to British. "T- Than again, being a princess doesn't sound all that bad, heh, heh."

The phantom filly laughed and charged forth to attack, and Dean screamed.






The Doctor






"I- W- What?" Aster stuttered.

"I mean, I can understand. He worked as an experimental scientist for alchemy, he probably looked at this whole issue from a physical view point and not a spiritual, magicka one. And you can't cure someone who isn't sick so of course all of his medicines didn't work."

"W- W- Wait a minute! What do you mean there's no such thing as a chaos infection?" asked Aster.

"Well tell me, how do you feel right now?" 

"Um, fine, I guess."

"Alright, so if being attacked by a "chaos slave" is enough to "infect" someone with this "chaos infection", than why don't you feel any of the effects that Henry felt?"

"I- I don't know. I wasn't attacked that long ago- wait, does that mean I'm infected!" Aster yelled.

"No! Aster, keep up will you! No ones infected and neither are you!" 

"But Henry-"

"Henry wasn't infected! There is no infection! Chaos magic doesn't work that way!"

"B- But how are they infected than?"

"Well first off, no one is "infected", they're all corrupted."

"Corrupted?" asked Aster.

"You see, chaos magic is extremely rare, Discord seems to be the only one who can control it. If anyone else tried using it they'd lose their minds or most certainly would be killed. But Discord can, and he's figured out how to use it harmlessly."

"If its rare than how come you know about it?" Aster asked.

The Doctor shrugged, "adventure gives knowledge to those who seek it."

" . . . What?"

"Never mind, that's not important. Discord, he doesn't kill anyone but he doesn't necessarily let them go either. Discord has two abilities, one is an altercation ability and the other is a potential one. You know what those are?"

Aster shook his head.

"Altercation. Or, Altering for short. And potential, they're both self explanatory. His potential ability has the potential of altering a persons personality without changing them physically. Except for some color loss, but that's besides the point. This ones stronger but not as common, for those who are actually taken over by this do so by choice."

"By choice?"

"Yeah, they, they allow Discord to change them for, whatever reason. Maybe because they've been lied to or do something they usually don't, its hard to explain. Heck, sometimes it happens simply because they aren't dominant enough. Its complicated, even for Discord. Because despite being strong, it just takes willpower and determination to overcome being "Discorded". That, and sometime just a reminder of who you really are. Which is why his altercation ability is more common.

"Altercation magic alters the pony's mind and body. Those "infected" that Henry described are actually "corrupted ponies". By putting a little bit of his magic into them, ponies minds and bodies change. And unlike Discorded ponies, who are corrupted but work differently, corrupted ponies can spread chaos without Discord having to do it himself. 

"There is no pattern or specific way that they change, it wouldn't be chaotic enough if they did. There bodies change at random, once someone changes you never know what they'll change into."

"So those ghosts, that's what Putty and Silly changed into?" asked Aster.

"Exactly! However, Discord did leave something in his magic that copies itself into everypony it possesses."

"What would that be?"

"An objective: corrupt as many ponies as you can. That's one way how Discord spreads his chaos. Corrupting ponies, than having those corrupted ponies corrupt more ponies. Possessing them with his chaos magic.

"Now, does that sound like an "infection" to you?"

"Um, kind of?" Aster replied.

"Yes, well, a little bit, if chaos magic spread like an illness, but it isn't. When they grab hold of you they force chaos magic into you, allowing it to control your very will power. Now, magic, if removed entirely, will normally leave no lasting effect on you. Where as illnesses like flus or colds, those can hide in your body without you knowing, until, eventually, you get sick. Even if your cured you may get sick again, but magic, that has to be put inside you one way or the other for it to corrupt you. And once removed that magic may never affect you again unless someone or something places it inside you. And I say may because, well, with magic it varies. Now, while Illnesses do not affect you the way the corrupted have been altered, I'll tell you what does do this: Curses."

Aster gasped, "so, Larkspur's cursed!"

"Afraid so, he and everyone else here are cursed. Corrupted by chaos."

"B- But he still has a chance, doesn't he? L- Larkspur was just caught today, uh, yesterday, I think. H- Henry lasted so long and he didn't change. So Larkspur should have the same chance, right?" asked Aster.

"I'm afraid not, I did say that it was one way that Discord spreads his chaos magic. Corrupting ponies with his army of corrupted ponies. But theirs another way he spreads it."

"W- What would that be?" asked Aster.

"Have you been near an area taken over by Discord? Like the land surrounding Mane City, for example?"

"No, I've never been anywhere close."

"That's good, you may not have made it if you were. You see, Discord doesn't just spread his magic from pony to pony. Discord can also spreadshis magic by releasing his own magicka into the air. Anything his magicka touches it alters, changing land, buildings, and ponies. 

"Chaos magic doesn't just spread from being in contact with a corrupted pony. It also spreads just by standing in an area with flowing chaos magic in the air. That's why Henry and his children had chaos magic. Mane City had the strongest density of chaos magic in the air, so of course they were corrupted by the time they left. But chaos magic in the air is still not as strong as direct contact with the corrupted. So it took some time before they lost themselves to the chaos. Which is also why you aren't corrupted."

"But, I thought Henry said he was corrupted by a pony?" asked Aster.

"He doesn't know how chaos magic works, so he made an assumption that made the most sense. Yes he was attacked by a corrupted, but in his diary he mentions that he was saved before the chaos could corrupt him. Once the process of corruption has been interrupted, any left over magic within the non-corrupted pony will either return to the corrupted pony or dissipate entirely. That's not just restricted to chaos magic, that a general appliance to most magic in this case.

But Henry, he was doomed from the start. If your caught in an area with chaos magic you'll want to leave as quickly as possible. Because that chaos magic enters into you each time you breath. But as I've said, its weaker than if you were taken over by a corrupted. So you would have to be in a corrupted area long enough for the build up of chaos to become strong enough to corrupt you. If you leave soon enough than there will not be enough chaos magicka to corrupt the pony, and it will dissipate. 

But again, Henry was in an area with the most dense chaos magic in all of Equestria. No matter how quickly he escaped Mane City, he, his children, and the ponies Henry mentioned escape with them, they were all corrupted from the start. And since this form of corruption is weaker than it was only a matter of time before they changed."

"But, why is it like that?" asked Aster.

"Who knows, maybe that's just how it is. Maybe one just happens to be weaker than the other. But, maybe Discord wanted it to be that way. The ponies that escape from a corrupted area think their safe, and they most likely join other ponies who have escaped. But than, one day, of the blue, they change. Think about it, imagine a camp full of one hundred ponies, all who have escaped. Discord is going to lose those ponies, but not if one out of that hundred happened to have been corrupted by a chaos zone, not by a corrupted. So they appear safe, and everypony lowers their guard around this pony. Than, when the timings right, they change, and the camp becomes corrupted. So Discord, no matter who escapes, will get those ponies in the end. Sort of like a plan B to deal with survivors."

"You think that's what he's doing!?" Aster asked, shivering.

"Its just a guess, but Discord, I wouldn't put something like that by him."

"B- B- But if we're being attacked by corrupted, does that mean this is a corrupted area?" Aster gasped, "do I have chaos magic inside me!"

"No, Aster, your fine. Dean saved you earlier before the chaos magic had the chance to penetrate you entirely. And this area doesn't seem like its been effected by chaos. So its safe to say that Silly, Putty, and anyone else corrupted are the only ones with chaos magic in them right now", the Doctor explained.

"But, what about you? Didn't Silly- or Putty- w- whoever that ghost was. They captured you, didn't they? Doesn't that mean you have chaos magic inside you?" asked Aster.

The Doctor paused, that thought had crossed his mind. Silly and Putty were corrupted, and if he had been captured by a corrupted pony, it was only common sense. 

He remembered the moment it happened, when he was captured. He felt the chaos magic penetrate him. It was hot, then cold, and then nothing. He felt his body go limb before losing conscious. He wasn't saved, so he should be corrupted as well.

But he felt fine, for the most part. His old body was aching, he was hungry, tired, sore from lying on the cement floor, but other than that, brilliant. Completely in his right mind.

It stumped him, he should be corrupted. Not that he complained, but from a logical stand point it really made no sense. Perhaps it did not affect him? But how so? How would he not be affected by chaos magic? 

From what he remembered, chaos magic is rare, almost non existent in fact. So rare that sources for learning on the subject is not only limited, it is also forbidden and punishable. Therefor, with the most he was able to learn, the Doctor had never heard of anyone being "immune" to chaos magic. Nor had he ever thought of anyway to fight back or repel against it, as Discord is the first time he had ever encountered it. There were ways to help someone already corrupted by chaos, but nothing more.

Ancient books and texts about chaos magic long before time has given the Doctor small tid bits of information, most indescribable. But none of it could surmount to anything thinkable, let alone usable. So that begs the question, why wasn't he corrupted?

The Doctor chuckled and shrugged, "guess I got lucky. I don't feel corrupted and I haven't changed physically. So . . . yeah, just lucky."

"B- But how?" asked Aster.

"No idea. The chaos magic wasn't able to take hold of me completely and dissipated before or after I woke up. At least, that's what I think happened. I honestly don't know. What I do know is that I got very lucky. Or maybe its just a coincidence, which, oddly enough has been happening a lot lately. Either way, I'm fine so I don't think we have anything to worry about."

"What do you mean by that!?! Larkspur and three other ponies are still corrupted! And so is Silly and Putty!"

"Yes, they are corrupted, corrupted by chaos magic! Corrupted because they have Discords chaos magicka inside them!" The Doctor slapped the book shut, making Aster choke in the dust it emitted as he slammed it to the desk enthusiastically. He then made his way to the doorway before turning back to Aster. "Magicka that I can remove!" He stated, leaving the office with Aster confused.

After processing what the Doctor said, Aster rushed out, following behind a second later. "W- What!?! Wait a second! What do you- AAAAAGH!!!" Aster screamed.