Price of Life

by Myst Ninja

Sprouting Wings

Chapter-1 Sprouting Wings

Blinking lights alerted Myst to the fact that her machines weren’t calibrated correctly. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, the gentle tapping barely audible over the massive cooling units. Finishing her adjustments she looked up. After doing so she immediately regretted it. The lead scientist on this project casually brushed crumbs off his coat only for them to be pulled into the cooling intake. A frown marred Myst’s face at the sight of such blatant disregard for sensitive machinery.

Despite the inauspicious start adrenaline and excitement filled Myst. She eagerly awaited the green light to begin their experiment. Even though she was a new member of this project she still felt like it was her baby. The humming of the machines she had programmed told her all was well, but she double checked all the indicators anyways. This was the big day; if their trial failed they would have to scrap the project. If it worked it could change the world forever. Nervously she rechecked everything another time. John, the teams physicist, gently placed a hand on her shoulder cueing her to finally start.

Her hands flew across the keyboard once again. This time she was running the warm up sequence. After a few minutes the room was at least five degrees warmer and the cooling units made conversation impossible. The screen blinked green a few times to indicate that all was well. With that Myst hit the start button. The machines got even louder, everyone had to put on ear protection or be deafened. The machines vibrated so powerfully that a few of the three inch bolts holding them down actually came free from the floor. Then, with a blinding burst of purple and green light the machines fell into a barely audible hum.

As her vision returned to normal, she realized that there was a strange orb of intertwined green and purple light in the center of the room. The six foot orb hovered in between two pillars. Arcs of blue electricity appeared to hold the portal suspended a few feet off the floor. The green and purple light swirled around each other casting strange patterns on the wall. The portal’s light was so brilliant that it was nearly impossible to look directly at it.

A broad smile split across Myst's face. At first she couldn’t comprehend the fact that everything had worked. But once she realized that they had actually created a portal to another dimension a very loud and unprofessional cheer left her throat. Seeing their success the room was filled with a celebratory mood. Though aside from a quick cheer and maybe a laugh the room was mostly silent. While everyone would like to have thrown a party on the spot they still needed to gather data on their portal. After several minutes of monitoring it was clear that the portal was not going to collapse, explode or destroy time and space as they knew it.

Seeing their continued success Myst was filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She was excited to see that everything was working—destroying time and space was not on her bucket list—but as Murphy once said, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” This saying was in the back of Myst’s head, nagging her as she prepared for stage two.

Stage two was to take a probe and push it through the portal, then hold it there for five minutes while it gathered data about the other side. When she first welcomed on to the project Myst had been challenged to a game of Rock Paper Scissors, at the time she had no idea what it was about. After she won she was informed that she had just won the honor of putting the probe through their portal. At the time it had seemed silly, really what is the likelihood of successfully creating a portal to a different dimension? But as it turned out they had done it, so with a pounding heart and butterflies in her stomach, she approached the rift, holding a long pole from which a probe hung. She pushed the probe through the strange vortex of color. If all went well the probe would tell them what kind of environment was on the other side. Hopefully they would be able to eventually draw energy from this other dimension.

To her surprise she met with some resistance. It was like shoving something through molasses. After steadily shoving for about thirty seconds she felt the pressure let up. Once the probe was through the portal, she started her count of five minutes, but she didn't even get to five seconds.

Without a chance to brace herself Myst was forcefully pulled into the vortex. Purple and green color swirled around her. Before she was able to process what had just happened pain filled her body. It felt as though her body was being compressed into a boneless, shapeless blob. The pain was almost unbearable. Myst screamed in agony, closed her eyes, and prayed that she would come out alive. In that moment she wondered what had brought this fate upon her.

As light swirled around her and pain consumed her it felt as though time stopped. In a sudden burst of selfishness Myst thought about her past and wished she had just kept killing. The only reason she was in the lab at all was because she had gotten cold feet. Her overseer had told her she was killing terrorists and other people that posed a serious threat to her country. Many times she had seen the terrorist’s plans to kill innocents, then tracked down them and their compatriots, leaving no threat alive. But it had finally become clear that not all of her targets really were threats to national security. Myst remembered clearly the day she found out the truth of the matter.

She hadn't been able to keep up with the news. So when she killed her targets she hadn't known who they were. But one time she examined the computer of a target and found that instead of a terrorist he was a politician who wanted to cut her organization's budget. He was no threat to the country. In fact he was one of the people Myst thought she was protecting.

After making this discovery Myst refused to kill anyone else. “Death is not the way to solve this problem,” she had said. In retrospect she realized she had been lucky she hadn't been killed on the spot. Insubordination was not treated lightly. Ultimately, Myst decided that she had no regrets. There was no question in her mind that she had done the right thing. Ironic—the first thing she did right with her life would in a roundabout way end up killing her. After finishing that thought the pain became too much and Myst blacked out.

When she opened her eyes, Myst was staring into the face of what appeared to be an orange pony. She closed her eyes and shook her head hoping that when she opened them she would be greeted with reality. No such luck. The pony was still there. Myst groaned and tried to stand up. Feeling dizzy she fell to a sitting position.

The orange pony now circled around in front of her and said, “I am mighty sorry to have pulled you out of the sky like that. Are you gonna be OK?”

“I think so,” Myst's replied.

“Well I am mighty glad to hear that! My name is Applejack. What's yours?”

The orange pony had asked this before Myst could really comprehend the fact that this was a talking pony. So when she responded she only paused to wonder if she should introduce herself as Kate or Myst. It had been so long since she was Kate, but it was her birth name. She decided, however, that this might some kind of trick her employer was playing, so she replied, “Myst is my name. What am I doing here?”

“Well...” the orange pony replied, “I saw this crystal hanging in the air above the pasture.”

She said this while gesturing toward a crystal that looked like her probe, except it was pink and see-through and crystal. Before Myst could say anything, the orange pony continued.

“That there crystal was scaring the cows. They said they were liable to stampede if that crystal stayed there. So I reckoned I should do something about it. What I done was lassoed it and gave it a pull. After that you came tumbling out of the air and hit your head on that rock over there. I came over to make sure you were alright. For what it’s worth, I am really sorry to have hurt you like that.”

The orange pony sounded sincere and offered Myst a hoof. Myst reached out to take the hoof. When she did so, she was hit with the sudden realization that she had a hoof as well. That was just too much for her to take. There was nothing in her training that prepared her for transformation into a pony. As such she did what all highly trained combat specialists do when they are in a situation with no protocol to handle it—she fainted.

When she woke up, she was in a bed. Her head was throbbing as she slowly opened her eyes. Seeing a white ceiling Myst was happy to realize that the orange pony had been a dream. But when she went to rub her eyes she found that her hands actually were hooves. The last hope she had of returning to normal life was shattered when the orange pony spoke.

“Looks like you really hit your head pretty hard. On the bright side it looks like your wings are fine, so you should be good to go once the swelling on your head dies down.”

Learning she also had wings was less surprising to Myst than learning she was no longer human. After all, what are some wings when you already have hooves?

Myst rolled out of bed, groaning as her head throbbed even harder. “Thank you Applejack. I really appreciate all the trouble you went to, but I really must get going.”

No solid plan of what to do had formed yet. But staying here and admiring the pristinely kept wood floor, the apple decorations everywhere, and the old fashioned wash basin wasn’t going to help her accomplish anything.

“It was no problem really. It was the least I could do after causing your accident.” Applejack replied. “Don't forget your crystal thing,” the orange pony called after Myst as she left the room.

As she left the room she could hear Applejack tidying the room she had just vacated. When she went downstairs she was greeted by the sight of three fillies playing at being pirates. She smiled slightly seeing an orange pegasus wearing an eye patch and trying to talk around a wooden sword in her mouth. The sight was ridiculous since she was wearing what appeared to be a purple bicycle helmet. Myst remembered a time when she was innocent and carefree, a time when she would not have analyzed the filly’s stance to see if she could pose a threat—assuming the sword was real.

Not wanting to interrupt them, Myst quietly crept through a door that led to the back of the house. She found herself in the kitchen, the smell of apple pie wafting from the oven. Myst was sorry she couldn’t stay to enjoy the homemade treat. Just by smelling it she could imagine the way it would melt in her mouth. Examining her surroundings she discovered that her crystalized probe was leaning next to the door.

As she approached the door a metallic glint caught her eye. On the counter was a small knife, it looked like a short steak knife. Realizing just how vulnerable and unprepared she was Myst grabbed the small knife. It felt very underhanded to steal like that, but she knew no other way to guarantee food and shelter for the night.

As she left Sweet Apple Acres the sun was midway through the sky telling Myst that it was just a little past noon. She knew that she did not have much time left if she wanted to find food and set up some shelter before dark. Myst’s training kicked in as she formulated a plan. Her first objective was to set up a small camp from which she could surreptitiously observe the locals. She also needed to become familiar with her new body. Stopping on top of a hill she looked around to get her bearings. To her left a dark looking forest spread out as far as she could see. She thought there might be a ruin of some kind deep within the woods. To her right she saw a small village.

Myst decided against entering the settlement. Until she was familiar with her pony body she knew she would be unable to properly deal with any complications that might arise. That left the forest as her best option so she quickly made for it. The tree cover in the forest was very thick, casting shadows everywhere. In fact it was so thick that Myst was amazed any plants got enough light to grow there. But as she walked there always seemed to be plenty of plants. Some of them she recognized, while others were completely foreign to her.

Myst continued through the forest until she found a small pond of crystal clear water. The pond looked like something out of a fairy tale. The sun filled the clearing making the water sparkle while all around grasses and flowers filled the rest of the clearing. The scene was perfect. It reminded her of her childhood dreams of the perfect spot to live. Seeing this scene fold out before her gave her a sense of coming home.

Myst drank deeply from the pond. Feeling refreshed, she took her knife and began to make traps for the small rodents she had seen all afternoon. After placing several traps she decided to start off by making sure she was still able to fight. It was difficult to do without some other pony to practice on. Instead she thought through her techniques and tried to practice them on whatever plant was available. Myst was shocked to find that despite the dramatic changes to her body all of her instincts and training had seemingly transferred without a hitch. The really strange part was when she realized that she no longer thought in terms of people. Instead of knowing mixed marital arts as she used to, she knew exactly how it applied to ponies.

After this startling discovery, Myst had to come to terms with the fact that whatever had happened when she crossed over had clearly been magic. There was no other explanation that made sense. No science could alter her knowledge so precisely and perfectly. This discovery left open many possibilities and only heightened Myst's interest in this new place.

Myst went and checked her traps, finding nothing. So she decided that it would be a good time to learn how her wings worked. Myst had no experience flying and as such had no idea what to expect. She started by spreading her wings. Myst closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to fly. At first it felt a little unnatural, but quickly it started feeling right. Without any conscious thought she flapped her wings—once, twice, a third time. Then Myst opened her eyes and saw the ground move away from her.

Instead of the panic that she had anticipated, the mare felt only exhilaration. The wind whistling through her feathers, the feeling of contracting her wings, the slight dip at the end of each wing beat. It was amazing. Before, Myst had had no real desire to fly. But now that she was airborne all she could think of was how wonderful it was to fly.

She started off slowly, simply rising in the air, trying to figure out how best to pace her breathing and her motions. She slowly winged over the small town she had seen earlier and then back over the forest. Then giggling with delight, all thoughts of her mission forgotten, the gray mare pumped her wings as fast as she could.

The ground flew past underneath her. There was no way to tell exactly how fast she was going but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the euphoria caused by the wind rushing past her face, playing thorough her feathers, and keeping her aloft. The urge to do something more than just fly in mundanely straight lines was overpowering as Myst accelerated high into the sky.

As she rose higher and higher she performed vertical loops. Quickly she started spinning straight up into the air. Her momentum spent, she began to fall. The wind rushed past her; she left her wings closed, only to snap them out just feet away from the ground.

The euphoric rush began to fade, but not before Myst tried one last thing. This time she soared straight for a cloud. She had wanted to feel what it was like inside of the cloud, but that didn't work out. Instead of passing through the cloud, her outstretched hoof shoved the cloud along in front of her. This strange occurrence snapped Myst out of the euphoria of her first flight.

Examination of the cloud revealed that it was a cloud. She even tried dropping a rock on it. The rock fell straight through. Yet when she sat on it, the cloud was solid underhoof. After experimenting, she found that all the clouds were the same. Myst was too hungry to give this much thought, and so she returned to the forest to check her traps.

There were a few squirrels in the traps. Myst skinned and prepared them. After that she started a fire and began to cook the meat. As she waited, she started absent-mindedly eating the surrounding vegetation. By the time the meat was done Myst was quite full. Only at this point she realized what she had done, and she panicked. Myst forced herself to vomit, the whole time praying that she had not eaten anything poisonous.

After cleansing her system, Myst greedily tore into the meat. But after she had eaten, Myst, promptly vomited again. This time it was completely involuntary. For a moment panic gripped the mare's mind, believing that she had eaten some poisonous plant. Then she remembered. A long time ago in a small classroom she had given a presentation on horses. At the memory Myst laughed. Despite having twice disgorged a meal it was good to know she was not dying. The fact that had slipped her mind was that horses—and, ergo, ponies—are herbivores. Realizing her mistake Myst gratefully filled her belly with the surrounding vegetation. After eating for the third time that night, Myst grabbed a cloud and forced it under the tree cover.

The day had not been at all what she expected. The way everything had changed right in the middle of an ordinary day reminded her of the day she had become an assassin. This time however the change had seemed mostly positive. Even if this land turned out to be hostile she could follow her conscience without fear of retribution from her previous employers. Satisfied that with the dawn she would have a new and better life, Myst slept. Her final thought as sleep took her was that clouds were undoubtedly the softest and most comfortable bed ever.