//------------------------------// // 7. The Nameless First // Story: Clean the Slate // by Earth Galvanising //------------------------------// Infancy was strange, the mental voice of Quantum Herring noted in the dead of night. Following his epiphany on his birthday before, the former Bryan Herring realized he could remember every detail of his last human life with crystal clarity. Sure is nice seeing them all so happy, the alicorn was flicking through his old, happier memories. Specifically, he was looking at events like Christmases and Birthdays, at least, any before the murder. Staring blankly at the ceiling, Quantum raised a singular blue hoof above his head. Wrapped around the appendage was a simple gold chain of no real decadence. The necklace ran through the loop of a small, onyx-adorned signet ring. With waning novelty, the year-old alicorn colt recalled the sentimental value and significance of the two basic pieces of jewelry. "Happy Birthday, Bryan!" His parents ambushed him before he could even fully open the door, and so the newly turned thirteen year-old vaulted face first into a solid oak door. His father James broke into fits of giggles before Bryan even had a chance feel embarrassment, while his red-haired mother Ann hid light sniggers behind a single hand, a mischievous light in her green eyes. The winter breeze flew in from outside, the darkening day of the season leaving the porch of the isolated bungalow illuminated in the twilight. "Oi, get in," James gestured with his hand, "It's cold outside and I'm freezing to death here." Rolling his eyes, yet with a snarky response on his tongue, Bryan moved into the hallway. "What, those old, fragile bones of yours can't take a little cold, old man?" Ann spluttered and her defensive hand fell down as she flew into a giggling fit at her husband's expense. The 49 year-old father smacked his son on the back of the head, but said nothing in reply. His grin would've betrayed him anyway. The door closed behind Bryan, and the teenager dropped his bag in the corner of the room. "So Bryan," Ann asked, finally recovering from her laughing fit, "How was school? Get any presents from your friends?" The family of three slowly moved into the living room, and a grin appeared on the youngest's face. "Ha, yeah," Bryan eyed the spacious room, gazing at a small pile of presents in the corner, next to a leather two-seat sofa. "Marcus got a pair of headphones," He gestured to the purple object around his neck, "And Melissa-" "Gave you her burning heart, and endless love," James interrupted, "'Oh Bryan, take me from this dreadful world, where we may frolic in flowers, and dine under the full moon, together in harmony!'" He imitated an incredibly girly voice. Bryan shuddered with a blush; the northern accent made the mockery even worse. Ann grinned madly at her son, while James broke down once more. "Actually, Melissa got me some Sonic merch," Bryan ground out, forcing the blush back down. "So, she's the Amy to your Sonic, eh?" His father taunted before laughing more. "God damn it," Bryan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose; mainly to hide his beet face, "Besides," he muttered, "Knuckles is my favorite character." Well, second. First is Blaze, but that'd be a dumb thing to say in front of these two. As Bryan enjoyed the jovial atmosphere, his parents came to a slow stop in their chuckling. The living room was lit with a single ceiling light, with a lampshade made of reflective circles strung together. The carpet was purple, and was remarkably soft. Two sheep skin rugs were laid out in similar places on the two halves of the room. One longer wall had a wall-mounted TV, with a fireplace just below it, while opposite was a three-seat sofa of the same kind to the two-seat. The far end of the room had a patio leading to the back garden, and opposite that was the entrance to the room, with the two-seat sofa and pile of gifts. Bryan sat down next to the gifts. "Well," his mother began, "I suppose you should get round to opening those; not many this year, considering your dad's is currently out of a job." Bryan winced oh-so-slightly. Sore topic; move on. "Of course! You two were missing this morning, anyway," Bryan grinned, "I couldn't open them without you here. Just where were you, anyway?" His dad winked suspiciously. "You'll see." "Fine; let's get these open," Bryan reached for the first present, an incredibly small box stood on top of the rest. It fit nicely into the palm of his hand. "What's in you...?" He mused, and noted the smiles on his parent's faces. Carefully, so as to not break the darn thing, Bryan unwrapped the present to find a ring box. An eyebrow raised as he looked at Ann, who was smiling especially wide. Bryan lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a ring. There was little fanfare to it, really, he knew what would be in the box once Bryan had realized what the box was. It was gold banded, with an onyx-stone the size of a fingertip on top. It was simple, and yet... "I love it," the teen said, examining the ring from every angle. The craftsmanship was amazing, actually. There were no marks, no scratches or blemishes. It was smooth, shiny and cold to the touch-- in a good way. "It's been in this family for years," Ann said, looking at her son and his ring, "It's been tradition to pass them along; I've got my ring," Bryan looked up, and his mother waved a finger adorned with a similar ring, but with a ruby stone. "And now you've got yours. It was once your Grandfather's, on your dad's side." Bryan raised his eyebrows, and looked to James for answers. "See, both our families have little traditions like that," he started, pulling out a longer, unwrapped box from his pocket, "This belonged to your mum's dad, and now, it's yours. Take care of it." Bryan stretched over, and grabbed the box from his father; ring slipped onto his finger. Opening the lid of this box, Bryan gazed upon a singular gold chain. It was slim and long, and looked fragile. It hit him hard that this had belonged to the one grandparent he'd never met, for he had died just a singular year before Bryan's birth. He smiled serenely at his parents, whom beamed back at him. From there, Bryan wore both the ring and chain for the rest of the day. He unwrapped the other presents, consisting of more practical things like a new phone, some nice clothes... the usual birthday gear. The rest of the day was spent in the company of his parents or trying out his new items. The day was filled with jokes, teasing and an all-round great atmosphere. Bryan had decided that his thirteenth birthday had been the best thus far, and was quite content to not let it end, even the dogs were having fun playing with all the used wrapping paper! The smiles of his parents were blinding, always filling him with joy, and it comforted him (at the time) that they would always be there for him; no matter what. Merely four months later; Ann and James Herring were murdered in cold blood; their deaths avenged by their son in the same incident. The question is, how the hell did they get here? Quantum continued to stare at the jewelry, as if the pieces would come to life and start unveiling their secrets. They did not. That being said, Uncle Phil did give me sort of two gifts in one, the alicorn lowered the hoof, and continued to stare at the ceiling. Whatever these things really are, they gave me some sort of mental... tsunami, The moment he had touched the accessories, Quantum had felt like he'd experienced his entire life as Bryan Herring in just a few short seconds, and when it went, so did the lingering attachment to the name, identity and feelings he'd associated with being Bryan. It was liberating, really, like waking up from a half-sleep state. Cool air drifted through an open window to his right, and the infantile time mage gazed into the Canterlot night. In his head, the things that the older Quantum had said during his magical trance started to fall into place. Bryan Herring was just one of hundreds of lived he'd lived, the many faces he'd had over three thousand years. There was no flooring moment of complete despair when he realized this; in fact, it was quite joyful. The chain and the ring had, in a sense, allowed Quantum to stop being Bryan, and let him finally live as the alicorn colt he was. There may have been a slight feeling of sheer relief in the back of his mind when the event occurred though. The blue-coated colt's gaze fell on the castle just in front, ticking of the grandfather clock resonating in his soul. More questions rose from his heart when he looked at the castle, for he thought of the Princess, and his strange mental link with her. Quantum honestly felt as though he were missing something ridiculously obvious, but he couldn't quite put his hoof on it. Regardless, the alicorn was quite looking forward to uncovering the pieces of his past, future and present, even if they did cause him a splitting headache. Celestia, for the umpteenth night in a row, found herself bored, tired, and without any particular duties to attend. Half a millennia ago, she had made the castle and its staff pretty much autonomous. Rarely, she found, was there an occurrence that required her intervention. The guard ponies that worked the night shift kept to themselves most of the time; only when there were particular circumstances would she be bothered by them, for example: Quantum's rebirth. The Celestial Goddess found that sleep eluded her, even when it felt her body screamed for it. She either put that particular bodily function to ancient habits from Discord's rule, or side effects of being linked to the sun. Either way, Celestia wanted to sleep, at least to get away from her thoughts, as they seemed fond of reminding her of the many failures she'd made over the years. It's not as if I've forgotten them, she sighed mentally, Just a few days of peace would be nice. That being said, a small part of her was actually excited for the next few years. Soon, Quantum would be entering school, and she'd be damned if she didn't automatically enroll him into hers; the Princess would pull rank on the others if need be. Plus, within the next few years, Luna would finally be returning to her. Granted, it may take a bit more effort than I'd like to get her back, but I'm sure it'll be worth it, she smiled a small, happy smile, And then there's Discord, or Infinitus, as he once was, even in her thoughts, Discord's true name sounded strange after not hearing it for so long. And finally, he'll come back; proper. Celestia thought of the small blue alicorn colt she'd seen not two days ago, and her smile grew. Soon, Celestia would no longer be alone; and that time couldn't come soon enough. The endless white expanse remained unchanged after what had felt like an eternity to the draconequus. While he was completely capable of affecting the space within his "cell," the same underlying, infuriating blank would always be beneath his creation. Discord's world was hollow, and he hated it. That wasn't to say it was empty though; oh no. Recently, Discord found himself in the delightful company of another version of himself. The "true" Discord. "Tick, tock," The reflection floated about, colours slightly faded and irises glowing, "Tick, tock," The clone floated in circles around him, a constant reminder of what he was; what'd he'd become. "So," the dark-Discord ceased moving, and moved uncomfortably close to the normal coloured draconequus, "You'll be free soon, ol' buddy," His face grinned back at him, "Do you think lil' Quanty will remember you when see him in, oh, twenty years or so?" "He won't have to," the imprisoned #1 replied, "Just being around him will be enough to force you back." The colour-drained beast raised a lion paw to his mouth. "Oh, yes, that's right! The great and powerful aspect gave him the hook first for a reason, didn't he?" The copy leaned back, "My, you were so weak without his passive ticking and tocking, honestly, it made me wonder how you'd put up such a fight before he was booted!" The clone broke into fits of giggles, twisting and turning in the air. "Oh, so naive you both were. After ol' Mind disposed of you two, he moved right on to Celly and your precious 'Lu,'" he stopped moving again and smirked at the brightly coloured chaos god, "She's stuck in the moon you know. Some ponies don't even believe she exists anymore, or that she ever had!" The duplicate burst into dark, maniacal laughter. The original Discord snarled. "Don't you say her name. You have no right," The clone smirked at his scowling copy. "Oh, is poor wickle Infinitus getting angry? D'awww," He mocked the original, before disappearing and reappearing in front of the brighter's face. "I know what you're planning, 'buddy,' and let me tell you it is not going to be an easy ride once we break out of here. I'll dispose of our resident Time Mage before you can even get close to him." Bright pink clouds appeared overhead, and a lightning flashed behind the copy's figure for dramatic effect, while he laughed like a lunatic. The dark-Discord's body started to fade away, still wearing a maniacal grin. "Don't worry, I'll treat our precious brother just fine!" Discord was left alone in the blinding white; and he felt fear for the first time in millennia. Quantum had decided that he very much didn't like Shining Armour. In the weeks since his second, first birthday on Equus, the small blue alicorn had often found himself going to the Sparkle household for a 'play date' (loathe as he was to use the phrase), and found excellent company in the still infantile Twilight. Together, they worked through their magic books, and slowly learned to control their magic and eventually, they could pull off some of the most basic spells (translation: incredibly complicated) like levitation of objects. Granted it took some time to actually get results, Quantum especially considering he'd just come from a world where magic was in the realms of fantasy, but at the end of the day, both foals were having fun. Yet, Quantum would have had even more fun were it not for the constant stink-eye he was getting from the big white unicorn. The small suspicious glance would turn into a full blown glare whenever Quantum would perform magic, as if to Shining Armour thought he were a ticking time bomb! The alicorn, of course, was less than happy with the situation. But, he trucked on, and at the cusp of the new month just the night before the first of April, the peaceful life he had was blown to smithereens again. This was because, the ex-human found himself with a headache. A screaming, indescribably painful headache that he'd only experienced once before. The words of the older/first Quantum rang in the colt's head. "You’re gonna be entering these trance states a lot from now on, and each time you do, you’ll be recalling a past life of yours." As he remembered the stallion's helpful comments, the world flashed white to the tick-tock of the grandfather clock, and the world went white once more. A mother ran through her burning city. A bundle of cloth in her arms, within, a new life, not yet ready to see the end. Soldiers called after her, and she ran through her local temple; untouched by the fire. She ran to the altar at the back, just in front of an idol to the Goddess Athene. She prayed for the well-being of her son; her time was already limited. The woman cried, the loss of her husband wracked her body with grief, yet she still prayed, and apologized for her impudence; the mother had not brought sacrifice in the mad rush to holy ground. Gruff voices called from outside the temple; they knew she was in there. The mother's prayer hurried in urgency and desperation, the clanking of boots on marble distracting her. A sword is drawn, a life lost. The soldiers failed to notice the bundle of cloth on the altar. An ethereal presence watched as a woman died in a temple dedicated to it. The woman had fallen trying to protect her son; a child that radiated a feeling of loss, and misplacement. The being felt the lingering aura of a battle lost on the child's soul; a soul seemingly in two. The presence gave mercy, and gave punishment. An army perished, a lost soul saved. A child grows, briefly, in the care of his owner. The boy grew up a slave in Mycenae, Sparta. following the genocide and pillaging of his home village. An urchin, he is called, useless. The boy knows his parents fell in the destruction, he is told near everyday. The proclamation has no effect; he has cried his last tears for his mother, his father. The boy is empty, and serves his master as best as he can. One day, the master abruptly died. Some say another slave poisoned him, others say enemies. The boy knew they were one and the same. Regardless, he was free. He didn't know why, but the boy wanted to go see the ruins of his once great home, so he does. A child wanders, free at last. He was thirteen when he stumbled into the still pristine temple. There were no blood spatters, no signs of struggle or death. A single altar stood at the bottom of the building, just before an idol to the Goddess Athene. Lying on the altar were two strange objects; things the boy had only seen his master wear. He had called it fashion, but the objects looked useless. The boy stared, confused at the slim links of gold, and the black-rock gold ring. Did they have a use, he wondered. He wanted to leave them; not wanting to tempt the gods, but a tugging on his soul forced him to reconsider. They were cool to the touch, and a part of him deep inside fell at rest. Material wealth gained, a part of the soul at rest. When the stomping got louder, the boy panicked. Fourteen years-old, an army marched down the still ruined village that was his first home. He hid in his makeshift home; useless. The soldiers found him, and dragged him out by the hair. One takes his ring, the other takes his necklace, and the boy feels naked. He struggled, cried, screamed, and silenced at the sword across his neck. A nameless body falls limp, the cycle starts anew. Quantum fell from his position in the air. The bright light of dawn blazed through the window, and the alicorn's senses went wild. The replay of his first human life hit him hard, and he felt like vomiting. The experience was nothing like it had been when he'd laid hooves on the chain and ring again, oh no, if the last time had been a tsunami, this was like that and a meteor shower all in one. It had been a rush of images, with highlighted key moments. He remembered the loving gazes of his parents, fire, the scorn of his master, serving him and suffering in silence, the joy that came with his death, the loneliness upon finding the charred remains of his village, the confusion and secret happiness when he found the ring and chain (i'm not going to even start trying to figure out why they were there), the peace he felt for his year in the village, in his makeshift home, and the utter terror and sheer pain when the soldier's blade slit his throat. He snaked a hoof to his neck, as he shivered in his cot, lying on his side. If all of these two-hundred lives were like this, Quantum thought shakily, Then I'm dreading the next one. The strange and trivial part of the process, however, had been the intake of knowledge. He knew how to cook Ancient Greek meals, and more importantly, could speak the language. But... I didn't even have a name. The thought rocked him. His first ever life had been a cycle of misery, and he didn't even have a name to call himself. The alicorn resolved to figure one out; he would not let that precious life remain broken. His thoughts cast to the older Quantum. If he was in the backseat this whole time... The ex-human felt sick thinking about it. How much had the older stallion seen, how long had he suffered in silence? The colt didn't want to know. With a severely shaken head, heart and soul, Quantum wrapped himself up in the blankets in his cot, and fell into a restless sleep. He didn't want to be awake, at that moment.