CiderCon Chronicles

by SSCiderConOfficial

Chapter 12:Destiny

CiderCon Chronicles

Chapter 12: Destiny

"The only pony you are destined to become, is the pony that you decide to be." -
Concord Hymn, Poet

The Guests dug into the spread with a mix of fervor and reserve. Their respect for one another, and their host caused them to each take respectful portions.

Truth be told, they were all fighting the urge to empty the contents of every serving dish onto their plate and make off with their treasure.

It wasn't that they were gluttons, far from it, rather it was a testament to Warm Welcome's spread. Her food, under the most mundane of circumstances, was a delight for the palate and the eye.

And on this day, with this spread, with everything at stake, she had outdone herself.

The dishes were carefully arranged to draw the eye down the table, leading the guest on a journey from Salad to Dessert. With each step the guest took, smaller dishes tucked in between larger dishes revealed themselves : hidden delights to reawaken the sense of wonder at the spread laid out before them. Many less experienced ponies would have ruined the overall effect of such a melange by carelessly placing dishes together whose combined scents were distasteful, but not Warm Welcome. She had placed and displayed each in such a way that their scents intermingled in the most appetizing way. No detail was too small for her. She had even taken into consideration the angle at which the sunlight would strike the tables at the appointed time for the brunch as a determining factor in their arrangement.

It was a supreme display of her art. Each dish cooked and seasoned to perfection, then displayed on the tables in such a way that it was a festival for the senses, a grand glorious pageant, a legendary showcase of what a mare whose special talents were "Hospitality" and "Entertaining" was capable.

The guests served themselves, took their seats, and dug in.

As beautiful as the spread was to behold, and as bewitching as is was to smell, they paled in comparison to how it all tasted.

In this most important aspect Warm Welcome had thrown all of her art and skill. P'tach's revelation that the emotion she put into her food could literally be tasted was at the forefront of her mind as she prepared the meal. She had filled her mind with the fondest memories she shared with each of the guests as she labored away. She had laughed over it, cried over it, and sung to it.

It was a meal like no other that she had prepared before.

For quite some time after everypony had begun to eat, the table was silent save for the sounds of enjoyment coming from the guests. So entranced were they by her food that nopony spoke to anypony else.

Then the silence was broken by a high, breathy laugh from the end of the table. Doc Gladstone was laughing so hard that there were tears in his eyes. The spell broken, the guests look around as if just remembering that they were not alone.

Doc caught his breath, and said " 'Scuse me y'all! " He turned his head to address Warm Welcome. "Sugah, fuh some reason I got ta' thinkin' bout' that time when ah' " He chuckled out loud."When ah' come over here for a house call, an', " He laughed out loud, and choked the last part out between laughs. "an' I... ended up... bein' tha'... tha' one needin'...a doctah!"

The whole table roared with laughter. They all knew the story of the infamous house call. When Warm Welcome was having Bramley, the Doc, forever in a hurry, didn't open the front door of her house fast enough and ran muzzle first into it : knocking himself out cold. Warm Welcome and Green Gardens (who was over to keep her company until Doc Gladstone arrived) had to drag him inside. Warm Welcome, in the middle of her labor, had bandaged him up and ministered to him (since she knew more about such things than Green Gardens). Once the Doc was resting comfortably, she delivered Bramley with Green Gardens' help. The Doc came to hours later to find Warm Welcome sitting in her living room with a bundle in her lap.

The laughter hadn't fully subsided when Tough Temper chimed in with an anecdote, then Fair Trade and Good Measure, and so on, and so on...

They delighted in one another, facilitated by Warm Welcome's cooking, and the time flew by.

Things were going better than Warm Welcome ever imagined.

********************

P'tach watched the gathering through Bramley's periscope toy from the upstairs window with a mix of sadness and joy. Sadness that he couldn't join in, but joy at the possibility that he might one day.

They had been going for quite some time, and P'tach knew that soon she would send Bramley up to get him.

As he watched, the wind picked up and blew the Constable's hat off his head. The table broke out in peals of laughter. He saw Bramley say what he assumed was
" I'll get it.", and gallop off across
the yard. The hat was near the woods at the edge of the yard before it snagged on a fallen branch. He saw Bramley reach down and get the hat. The wind picked up.

That was when he saw it.

A long dead tree at the edge of the woods was falling. Bramley was right in its path, frozen in shock.

He knew that the partygoers didn't see it. They were still laughing amongst themselves about the hat, and besides, none of them were close enough to do anything.

Though he felt a sick stab of dread, and knew that he was probably throwing away his new life, he didn't hesitate. He threw open the sash, and leapt out the window.

His wings beat faster and harder than they ever had before as he rocketed toward the colt. The wind thundered in his ears and stung his eyes. He was little more than a buzzing blur as he flew over the oblivious guests. He heard cries of alarm, and wasn't sure if they were because of him, or if they'd finally seen Bramley.
He was rapidly clearing the distance when a horrible realization struck him.

He wasn't going to make it.

He had hoped to clear the distance with enough time to slow down and push Bramley out of harm's way, but he could see that wasn't going to happen. If he hit Bramley at this speed he'd run the risk of seriously injuring the colt and himself, or maybe worse. If he slowed down, he might save Bramley, but the tree would probably crush him. He kept that idea as a last resort. He had thought about changing into something like a bear and covering Bramley's body with his own, but a bear would never clear the distance on foot.

And then, with complete clarity, knew what he had to do.

"You can't! It won't work!" said a voice inside.

There was a rumbling deep inside his psyche, and something freed itself. To his surprise, another voice that he'd never heard before, said :

"Yes. You can. You have to".

The voices struggled against within him.

"But, I'm damaged, defective, useless!"

"No! Not defective! Unique! No other changeling could save him like you're about to! You possess a power that none of them do!"

He realized that the voice was right.

The Mother called him defective. She was wrong

The Mother said nopony would care about him. She was wrong

The Mother thought he would die. Instead, she had made him free to make his own choices

Tears that had nothing to do with the wind came to his eyes.

He was unique.

He was Free.

He was loved.

He closed his eyes, and changed.

********************

The assembled guests were still laughing raucously amongst themselves about the Constable's hat when they heard the buzzing. Before any of them could react, a buzzing blur passed over the table with enough speed to dishevel their hair, and knock over glasses and mugs. Green Gardens screamed in shock. Tough Temper and Constable Even-hoof rose from their seats to confront the threat, if it turned out to be one.

Warm Welcome froze. "That can't be P'tach." she thought to herself. "Why would he..." She traced his trajectory forward with her eyes.

She saw Bramley.
She saw the tree.
She screamed, and galloped towards him.

By this point, the Constable and the Smith had seen Bramley's peril too, and were racing as fast as their hooves would carry them to his side. The Doc and the others were close behind.

They saw the blur pick up speed. There was a "FWOOSH" of colored fire and its mass quadrupled. The buzz increased to a roar that threatened to deafen them, and the blur shot forward.

They were all still running toward Bramley, trying in vain to reach the colt in time.

They watched as the blur hit the tree at full speed, and the section that would have hit Bramley exploded into a cloud of splinters and dust.

Aside from Warm Welcome, the townsponies had all stopped running towards Bramley. They stood in open-mouthed awe at what had just happened.

It arrested its momentum with amazing speed, and turned around to land next to Bramley. For a moment the creature stood over him, towering above him as it seemed to the crowd to shield him from any errant debris.

Then they were finally able to get a good look at it. It defied classification. Its body and legs were those of a bear larger than any they'd ever seen before. On its back were two wings that looked like those of a beetle, but enormous and proportioned to match the rest of the body. Perched atop its shoulders was a head that was almost comically small by comparison, but alien in appearance. It was P'tach's own coal-black, pupil-less, horned head.

Warm Welcome ran past him to check on Bramley, then, seeing that he was fine, she turned to the creature and hugged it's massive leg, crying.

Constable Even-hoof's voice interrupted the reunion.

"What in the Sam Hinny is that thing !?"

********************

Comments

[changlinggod45]

bug bare changeling