Inverno’s Opus in A Minor

by CrackedInkWell

22: Tchaicoltsky’s Fear in C# minor

Dr. Assurance waited in his office, looking out the enormous window to the street below. Although he's used to working with patients that held many secrets and had just as much mystery about them – often several at the same time – the case with his friend has proved to be the most intriguing of all. In the last few days, Mr. Ski has been giving him more and more clues that help draw up his psychological profile.

However, it wasn’t so much the fact that he had a gut feeling that there were some things that Mr. Ski was not telling him. That was obvious from Ski's hesitation to come out. Rather, it was in part the details he did give away, and part of his appearance was uncannily similar to a historical figure that he decided to look up. Ever since he noticed the face on the packet of tea, the therapist looked up on the composer Tchaicoltsky. From there, he found plenty of similarities between the two. No, not similar – exact! From his issues with his mother to his closeted homosexuality, the fact he used to compose music, even sharing the same favorite foods were just like this composer that lived centuries ago.

His rational side was telling the doctor that something about this case didn’t feel right. Something was unquestionably off. Luckily, for his upcoming session with his patient, he has the perfect tool to settle these confusing thoughts and doubts to rest.

Then, right on time, he spots Mr. Ski, flying down the street and landing right before the entrance towards his office. Turning around, he made sure that everything he needed was there and ready. The phonograph, the special record, and the tray to make Budyonny style tea. He waited for a minute before his sectary told him that his client has arrived. A moment later, the Pegasus stallion entered, Assurance noted that he didn’t look malnourished this time around.

“Good afternoon, doctor.” His client said, flashing a smile.

“Hello Mr. Ski,” he nodded, “you look better than before. I take the shelter is taking good care of you.”

“Yes, they have been doing what they can to help me. You know with having a place to sleep, warm food and wonderful support as well. In fact, there’s been talk that they may help me get a job soon.”

“Oh good. That’s wonderful to hear. Tea?”

After the doctor help to dish out the right amount of black tea, honey, and raspberries, Tchaicoltsky asked, “So, my good doctor, what are we going to be talking about today?” He asked, taking a seat in the other comfy chair.

“Well for today, I want to try something different.”

“Like what?”

Assurance lit up his horn to crank the phonograph. “Well since you have gotten to a point where you can trust me, I’d figure that for our session we could try out a special type of therapy that’s based in magic. One that would help me gain some insight into my client’s state of mind just by looking into their meditation on a question.”

Tchaicoltsky tensed up. “As in… mind reading?”

“Well yes and no. The spell itself has a lot of complicated jargon but essentially, it would have me have access to your mind, but at the same time, you will be there to show me around like a guide would in a city. And don’t worry – since you’re the one going to be showing me around, you can only show me what you want to.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“This therapy has helped out many of my clients, helping them explore issues that they’ve either forgotten or confront something that they couldn’t do on their own. But don’t worry, regardless of what happens, I’ll be right here beside you. There will be no judgment on my part, only for me willing to understand how and why you work.”

“What’s the phonograph for?”

The doctor stopped cranking the machine and held up a record. “This therapy requires a good amount of focus. This record is blank except for a soft, crackling vinyl – basically white noise that helps me have a clear mind and focus completely on you. So, do you want to give it a try?”

His client shifted in his seat. “What do you expect to find?”

“In short, to find clues about yourself. I want to understand what made you who you are today. But all of that lies in your thoughts.”

After giving the reassurance that he had complete control, Tchaicoltsky agreed.

The therapist told him to relax and closed his eyes. Once this was done, Assurance lit up his horn to first, place the record on the turntable and the needle down so that office was only filled with the soft crackling noise of the record. Then, he too closed his eyes and focused his magic on the spell. It took him several moments to prepare, but when he got everything ready, he stretched his aura out to his patient.

The first thing the two stallions saw was that they stood in the wings of an enormous stage with a red curtain drawn. There were lights above them, but most of it was completely dark.

“Where… Where are we?”

“I’m in your mind.” The Doctor told him. “Just remember, you are in complete control of what I get to see and hear.”

“But… what?” Tchaicoltsky asked timidly.

“For now,” he said, patting his back, “I want to ask you one question. Mr. Ski, what are you afraid of?”

The Pegasus took a few steps back. “Doctor… I… I don’t if…”

“It’s alright,” he said, with a voice warm and gentle, “no matter what happens, I’ll be right here beside you.”

The wide scarlet curtain had risen up, a row of stage lights lined all along the floor, seemingly stretching into infinity. And a soft mummer of voices like that of an audience was heard. The therapist saw his patient, shaking like a wet dog, frightened.

“P-Please,” Tchaicoltsky begged. “Please don’t make me go out there.”

“Mr. Ski. I know you’re scared. But whatever it is that’s out there, you can’t let it control you. What’s out there in the dark, it can’t ever hurt you no matter how much it tries to convince you that it can.”

“But I can’t… I can’t control my demons out there.”

His unicorn friend hummed in thought. “You’re right.” He said, surprising the Pegasus. “You can’t bend the demons out there to your will. That’s impossible. So instead, try realizing the truth.”

“What truth?”

“There are no demons. Once you realize this, you’ll find that it isn’t the demons that move, it’s you. It’s how you see them. If they are as real as we are, they will remain so. But if you take a good long look at them, you’ll realize that there wasn’t anything there in the dark.” He held out a hoof to him. “So please, show me. Let me see.”

Tchaicoltsky hesitated, a shaking hoof reaching out to hold onto like a frightened child. “They’re expecting us to dance… I never danced in front of so many before.”

“Very well.” Assurance stood up on his hind legs, compelling the other stallion to do the same, taking hooves to be placed in a certain way.

The Pegasus blushed, “I never thought you knew how to dance.”

“Not always, but for the sake of this therapy, I’ll let you take the lead.”

Gulping, he led the doctor into a clumsy waltz into the dark.

As soon as they stepped out onto that universe of a stage, a spotlight fell upon them as the audience was suddenly hushed and a dark, black melody was playing. Dr. Assurance silently took note that the music was a distorted tune out of Tchaicoltsky’s ballets with an out-of-tune piano and cello. As they danced, for a moment, they didn’t encounter anyone until a figure emerged from the darkness. It was a sickly-looking mare who was giving out some nasty coughing.

“Pyotr.” The mare weakly called out between coughs.

The Pegasus tensed. “M-Mama?”

“Why didn’t you – cough – come?” She asked. “I was dying and – cough, cough – scared. I wanted to hear you play one last – cough – time. Where were you? I placed so much of my faith in you.”

“I didn’t know.” Tchaicoltsky shut his eyes tightly. “The boarding school had kept me so busy that I didn’t know you past until it was too late.”

'Just like the real Tchaicoltsky,' Assurance thought.

“Another lie of yours, brother?” Another shadow approached above them. “Way to disappoint the family. At least I was there when mama died like a good son and we wrote you letters to come as quickly as possible – but where were you? Probably having your backside being stuffed by a stranger in a back alley.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh-ho really?” Another mare silhouette materialized. “When were you planning on telling me that? To your wife? On top of divorcing me, the secret affairs with stallions, and your broken promise to love me. Why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t love me?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Tchaicoltsky said, tears forming in his eyes.

'It's almost beat for beat,' Assurance pondered.

“What’s there not to understand!” Another figure loomed, one that had a suit that was decorated in metals, but the face of the stallion was kept in the darkness. “You’re a pervert, plain a simple! The academy is going to celebrate your arrest, your work detained, and your banishment to Siberia.”

“No! Please, stop!” The Pegasus sobbed into the doctor’s withers. “Make it stop!”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Assurance told him, trying to continue the waltz. “It’s something you’ll have to confront.”

“Please let me go!”

“No! If you’re not willing to take a closer look at your own fears, they’re just going to hunt you down for the rest of your life. Ignoring the problem is not the same as resolving it. Here,” against Tchaicoltsky’s will, the unicorn pulled him close to the coughing mother. “Look at her.”

“I can’t…” He shook his head, his eyes still firmly closed.

“Mr. Ski,” they stopped, the unicorn strokes his head, “they won’t hurt you. They’ll never will. Look up and see.”

Sniffing, Tchaicoltsky snakingly looked up, first at the assuring face of the stallion who still held him, and then at the shadow of his mother. Only up close, he noticed that in the dim light, there was no face. If anything, it didn’t even move. Curious, he cautiously lifted a hoof to touch the dark clothing; only to find that he could easily move it.

“Huh?” The Pegasus reached for its face. “It’s… It’s a doll.” He looked over to the flying brother that hovered. Taking flight, he forced it into the spotlight; another dummy. The same to the other mare, and the decorated stallion. They were nothing more than just dolls. “They’re… not real?”

“They never were.” Assurance told him.

“Then… whose making them speak?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be concerned with imaginary fears, Pyotr.” The Pegasus gasped at the mention of his real name. A voice echoed – it sounded just like his voice, only this mocking tone seemed to be coming from everywhere. “Instead, why not you face your real ones? Although, I highly doubt you could even do that.”

“He’s doing very well.” Dr. Assurance said. “Now, where are you? Show yourself!”

“Oh very well, Doctor, if you insist.” Then out from the foot of the stage, hoofsteps were heard, and another spotlight sine down on a second Tchaicoltsky. Although he resembled him very faithfully, there was something... sinister about him. “You know, you ought to give up on him now. It’s useless.”

“What are you?” Tchaicoltsky asked, floating back down on to the stage.

The double chuckled. “I have been with you all your life and you still don’t recognize me, Pyotr? I am a part of you, the voice that you tend to listen to when you’re all by yourself. Call me Fear.”

Assurance looked between the two. “I don't quite understand. Are you afraid of yourself?” He asked his client.

“Worse.” Fear gave a coy smile, walking past him. “I am the very thing that he fears all else. If anything, you being here is his ultimate nightmare.”

“DON’T TELL HIM!” Tchaicoltsky screamed. But before he could flee from the stage, Fear lit up a wing, and rope quickly descended from above like attacking snakes. Each strand coiled around his hooves, midsection, even his head, lifting the terrified Pegasus up like a puppet.

“What was that you said, Doctor? That fears are as real as we make them be? Well in here, I’m a real as they can get.” Assurance lit up his horn, demanding for Fear to let him go. “Ah-ah! Not yet. Believe it or not, I actually want to help you. After all, Pyotr here has been such a bad, bad colt. So he must be punished in the most terrifying way I know how.” He grinned. “I’m going to tell you – everything!”

“NO!” Tchaicoltsky tried to fight his bonds. “Don’t lis-” a rope squeezed his muzzle shut.

Fear casually trotted over to him. “Now now, this is your Doctor, after all, he must know all your secrets so that he can help you.” Fear chuckled gleefully. “Like for example, Doctor Assurance, did you know that this homeless fellow was once a famous composer? I doubt you’ve heard of him, given that it’s been a couple of hundred years, give or take. But this guy, he used to be successful – he had honors, commissions from high places, deemed the master of melody. Yet, here he hides it in front of you, to spare himself of the tremendous fall from the fame he has come. Besides, I guess it wouldn’t help if you’re over a hundred years old. He should be completely forgotten by now.”

Assurance said nothing.

“Or,” he continued, “did you know that this self-confessed pervert hasn’t told you everything? Such as he courted a student of his when he first started teaching? Or that he had anonymous rendezvous with other stallions before he got married? And while I’m at it, this stallion got married not out of love, but because so that it would throw ponies off that he’s unnatural – to make him normal. Even those patron letters he wrote to two other mares were all an act. Or how about the time that his nephew had fallen in love with him? Such a disgusting specimen here. That even when given the second chance of life, what does he do with it? He has to go and develop a crush on the very doctor that saved him.”

Now, this got the therapist’s attention. “He has?”

Tchaicoltsky sobbed in shame.

“I know. A pervert to fall for a stallion that’s already happily married. Just think of the scandal! But oh, that’s nothing!” Fear grinned wickedly. “It doesn’t come close to his biggest secret of all! Especially with the new body he got for this second chance of life.”

“What are you talking about?” Assurance questioned.

Fear didn’t respond, but turned to the frightened Tchaicoltsky, shaking his head, muffling for mercy. “Let’s take off that mask of yours and show him the real you. C’mon, let’s show him your new body!” Fear grabbed Tchaicoltsky's face and tore it off like it was a mask. At first, Assurance was very alarmed that the stallion was caught in the green flames of fire. However, there were no screams as the hide and feathers burned away, peeling back black chitin and translucent wings.

“Behold, Doctor!” Fear exclaimed, waving a hoof as if showing off a circus freak. “Allow me to present to you – the real face of your client!”

“A Changeling!” Assurance immediately backed away in fright; but at the same time, saw a look of betrayal on that face with tears streaming down.

Just like that, Assurance ended the spell and opened his eyes, back to his office and a crying Pegasus curled into a ball. As much as he wanted to comfort the stallion, his mind was filled with so many questions and at the same time alarm. New body? A Changeling?

“I’m so sorry…” The Pegasus whispered above his grief. “I’m so sorry…”

Before Assurance could do anything, or to tell him that everything’s going to be okay; he gotten up and rushed out of his office.

“Tchaicoltsky! Wait!” Assurance rushed after him, but he was too slow to reach him. By the time he got to the front entrance of the building he worked in, the Pegasus had already flown away.

Comments

[Script Singer]

Wow.

Really good chapter!

[Geek Crossing]

Poor Tchaicoltsky..I hope things will get better for him