Fourteen Years Gone

by Thought Prism

Chapter {4}

I had no idea how much time passed after that, gripped in the thrall of my own deepest emotions as my heart reforged itself. But eventually, my eyes ran dry, along with my magic. It was such a shocking contrast, being cold, being empty. Almost like I had been trapped in a nightmare, here and on Ixalan. Or maybe it was a dream, and this loneliness, this grief, was the reward bestowed upon me for my choices.

Wrapped in burns and bruises that ached and stung, I crossed my legs under myself and sat, facing Fizzlepop. She, too, was in still in pain, her face scrunched up ever so slightly. Tough mare. She just kept staring. Who knew how long the both of us would have stayed like that, stubbornly frozen. But I had to ask.

"W-Why? Why didn't you kill me?" I croaked out.

It was a moment before she replied, her voice low and quiet. "I've been where you were. I was the same, I think, until recently. My experiences were... unpleasant."

Really? I glanced at the stump of her horn, the armor she still wore, harder than mine. Maybe that was so. "Still, I..."

"Yes, you tried to kill me just now. In brutal fashion," she said with a sigh. "I've done worse, and ponies forgave me anyway. They gave me a second chance; to work for a healthy solution. I thought I'd try and do the same for you."

I snorted. "No offense, but I'm fairly sure ponies are the exception. I've been to dozens of places you couldn't imagine, and none of them are like Equestria. Besides... revenge on you was all I had. There's nothing left of me," I said, my voice cracking.

Fizzlepop pursed her lips, studying me with intensity behind her eyes. "Death is the coward's way out," she eventually said. "If you have nothing else to do, come with me. Since you broke my leg, I'm gonna need help getting the rest of the way to the New Changeling Hive. Think of it as paying me back."

Well. I had no clue where exactly that was, but it didn't matter. She was right; it wasn't as if I had anything else to do. And I owed her, for bearing the brunt of my glorified tantrum. "Alright."

"Good," she said. "First things first."

Fizzlepop had some basic medical aid supplies in her bags. I pried off her half melted hoofboots, bandaged the tender flesh beneath, and splinted her leg with some dry wood from nearby. The only ointment she carried was a disinfectant, pointless for burns. So both of us had to bare with it. I didn't care enough to mind.

"Ok, come on," she said, the expression on her face too subtle for me to read. Was it kindness? Disappointment?

We begun to move, Fizzlepop leading me through the evolving wilds. I kept my hand on the underside of the armor plate nearest her broken leg, keeping some off her weight off the limb as she limped along. But, really, she was the one propping me up, forcing me to press on and not just wallow in numbness.

As we methodically trudged forwards, I kept being pulled out of the present. This new lens, dim and thick, recolored my perceptions. When my wife died, I had others to share the burden. The days went by, and others, stronger than I, pulled me up, helped me move on. Much like now, but mentally.

With my daughters, my old friends... I never got the chance to properly grieve. How could I? After fourteen years, I no longer truly knew who I would even be grieving for. They moved on with their lives while I was playing pirate in a box.

Proper closure might still be possible. If I could find a priest, or a medium, anyone with spirit magic, I could at least see them one last time, apologize for everything. Though their warmth would still be gone, replaced by untouchable vapor. But Equus had very few who practiced anything close to necromancy. It would be a long shot. And even then, would it be healthy? Could I resist the temptation to keep them with me forever? Was I that selfish? No, it was all for them. But without them, who was I?

Musings like these bounced around in my skull over and over, drowning out the scenery, the sounds. I had fallen apart, and was metaphorically test fitting each of the pieces in every possible combination, trying to build something that functioned.

"Hey!"

I blinked. Looked down. Fizzlepop had stopped. If she was as exhausted as I felt, she didn't show it. She just gestured ahead. "As I said before, we're here."

"Oh," I said. 'Here' turned out to be a cluster of sharp grass-covered hills with a massive structure of blue stone in the center that was riddled with wide holes. I could just barely make out shapes milling around inside.

"I probably don't have to tell you this, but no sudden moves. And be... nice," she added. "I hear these folks can be a bit jumpy, and we aren't exactly unimposing."

I glanced at my scars, then at hers. "Yeah."

As she steered me towards the entrance at the base, I tried to remember why exactly Fizzlepop wanted to come here. But, it was all blurred by a lingering miasma of hostile emotions. Realistically, I didn't even need to know. I could just stick to the back, keep quiet. But my curiosity got the better of me. "Uhh, remind me why we're here, again?" I asked.

"To let them know that they don't have to worry about the Storm King invading their lands anymore," she replied.

"Oh, right." I'd heard about that from Ember.

I kept my mouth shut for the rest of our approach. The foliage, while still nonuniform, grew more vibrant within the vicinity of the hollowed-out peak. I also got my first glimpse of its inhabitants just outside, some of them milling about on errands or just chatting with eachother in the sunlight. I was somewhat surprised to find that these changelings weren't actually blueish fey creatures with slitted yellow eyes, but rather looked like the product of some Simic biovat into which a pony, a beetle, and an assortment of paints had been dumped. I tried not to stare, but failed miserably. The changelings mirrored my own reaction, their compound eyes widening in confusion or fear. Fear for us, not from us.

One individual, purple and with extra horns, buzzed over to us rapidly almost the second he saw Fizzlepop and I. "You're hurt!" he exclaimed, noting our significant injuries, the blood still caked in our hair. "Is there a monster nearby? Or foreign invaders?"

Fizzlepop shook her head. "No, neither. The danger has passed."

I gulped down the dryness in my throat. "She... took care of it."

The tension drained out of the changeling's posture. "That's good. And it looks like you already patched yourselves up. I assume you're looking for shelter, then? I'm always happy to assist a fellow protector."

"A bed of straw would be nice, but I'm really here to deliver a message," Fizzlepop explained. "Are you the leader of this hive? Er, king, I guess?"

The changeling barked out a laugh. "No, pony, that would be my brother, Thorax. I can take you to him."

"That would be great, thanks," she said, sincerely appreciative.

Nodding, the horned changeling took over the duty of bracing Fizzlepop as he guided the pair of us into the hive. It was like a maze, but far less oppressive, with large rooms, no doors, and floral decorations.

"Didn't catch your names," our guide stated. "I'm Pharynx."

"Fizzlepop. It's a pleasure."

I said nothing, unsure how to answer. I stared at Fizzlepop, wondering how she had adopted a new identity so easily, how she let go of the past so effortlessly. After waiting a few moments, Pharynx quirked a brow in my direction before shrugging with his wings.

A few other changelings expressed concern for us as we climbed. Pharynx reassured them. Fizzlepop smiled at them, and it didn't even look forced. I could barely meet their eyes.

Passing tunnel after tunnel, We made it to the top floor, which opened itself to the sky. A tall, green changeling, presumably Thorax, sat on a wooden throne, munching on a plate of vegetables and reading a scroll that he held in his magic. Failing to notice our arrival, Pharynx coughed to get his attention. He jolted in his seat, choking down his food and pulling the scroll aside. "Oh, Pharynx!" He spotted Fizzlepop and I next. Mouth opening slightly, it looked like he had plenty of questions, but waited for Pharynx to speak.

Pharynx took the cue, pointing at us. "Meet Fizzlepop and... this other quiet guy. Before you ask, yes, they're fine. Fizzlepop apparently has an important message for you."

After processing this, Thorax's countenance turned serious. "Alright, what's the message?"

Fizzlepop held her head high. "The Storm King has been defeated, his army scattered. The threat of his scourge will plague you no longer."

Thorax took a long blink. "Well, that sure sounds like good news, and vital to know, but... who?"

Fizzlepop's brow furrowed. "The Storm King? Came from the south, had a massive fleet of airships and the drive of a conqueror? Subjugated multiple countries?"

Thorax's head fins drooped. "Doesn't ring a bell. Until recently, most of us were only taught what we needed to know to blend in with ponies or do basic tasks around the hive. It's part of how Chrysalis controlled us."

Before I'd even realized I'd done it, I snorted in disbelief. Three pairs of eyes swiveled to meet mine. "What is it?" Thorax asked.

I laughed humorlessly. This just wasn't fair. "I'm sorry, your highness, I couldn't help it. It's just... you and your people are so lucky. You'd never even heard of the Storm King until he was already gone. Meanwhile, my entire race was almost totally wiped out by his attack, including my whole family. Didn't even get to say goodbye."

As I blinked back a fresh set of tears, Pharynx bristled. Thorax gasped in shock. Fizzlepop's gaze whipped back and forth between the pair as Thorax jumped out of his throne to wrap me up in a sudden hug. It wasn't the least bit regal, or expected, but I didn't push him away. In that moment, Thorax looked more saddened by the facts than I was.

"I am so sorry," he said, sniffling. "I had no idea. I can't imagine what you must be going through."

Not quite sure what I was supposed to do, I patted Thorax lightly on the back. "That's a good thing. If you could, that would mean you're broken too."

"No, it isn't a good thing!" he exclaimed, pulling back to make eye contact. "It means I don't know how to help you."

I stared, quizzically. "And you want to help me."

"Who wouldn't?" he declared.

"That's..." I trailed off, turning away. "You don't even know me. I might not be worth the effort."

"Don't say that," interjected Fizzlepop. "That's not a healthy way to think. At least let them try."

Thorax nodded, stepping away. I looked to Fizzlepop, her eyes imploring me to agree. I was pretty sure nothing would work, but I supposed it couldn't hurt.

"Actually," began Pharynx, "there's the old standby tactic, from when we preyed on ponies. Shapeshifting into a loved one of the target was always the best way of drawing that love to the surface, helping them feel better."

Thorax beamed in comprehension. "Oh yeah! One quick memory probe is all it would take!"

"How about it?" Pharynx asked me. "You want a chance to bid your family farewell?"

Once I'd fully realized what exactly was being offered, I froze, my joints locking. Wasn't this almost exactly what I'd been thinking about pursuing earlier? Better in some ways, too: Golden and Argent's rest wouldn't be disturbed, and there would be almost no risk of something going wrong. I could hold them both, cradle them in my arms one last time. If they were as good at their craft as I suspected, the changelings could even project what they would have looked like in the present, and try to copy their personalities. But...

The word was out of my mouth before my decision had fully registered. "No."

"No?" repeated Pharynx, questioning. "Are you sure? It can't be worse than nothing."

"But I already know I wouldn't really be speaking with my daughters," I said, my voice little more than a rough whisper as my chest felt as if it was gripped by a vice. "Regardless, my heart would pick out the difference." I had a realization, and it stung. "This time, I have no choice. I must move on, no matter how much it hurts."

Thorax stared, sympathy overflowing from his features. Pharynx pursed his lips as he spoke. "Well, you'd know better than I would. No it is."

Fizzlepop shuffled over to my side, resting a hoof against me with what tenderness she could. "Smart call. I'm no expert, but I pretty sure what you really need right now is a friend. Someone new to care about."

"That sounds nice, I guess. But where the hell would I find one?" I asked.

"Right here," Fizzlepop stated, matter-of-factly, as she gestured to herself. "You already have my respect, so might as well, right? Not sure I'll be any good, but I can try." Then, she spun back, extending her arm. "Fizzlepop Berrytwist."

Reintroductions? A tiny grin crept its way onto my face. I shook her hoof. "... Angled. Angled Wrath."

At this, she chuckled. "How creative you are. It is wrong that I like Angrath better?"

"Too soon, 'Tempest Shadow'," I said, half cringing, half smirking.

At this, she shook her head. "Yeah, that's fair."

"Ahem. Sorry to interrupt your bonding moment, but I'm kinda busy," said Thorax. "It's getting late, and we have a bunch of guest chambers downstairs."

Fizzlepop inhaled sharply. "Right. Thanks for listening."

"It was no trouble, really," Thorax insisted. "One less thing to worry about!"

"Take care," added Pharynx, already rushing back to his post.

Acquiescing to Thorax's wishes, Fizzlepop and I wandered back below. I trailed behind her on autopilot, idly watching as she chatted with passing changelings for directions and asked questions to satisfy her own curiosity about the hive and their lives. She was surprisingly cordial, any apprehensive gazes replaced by interested ones once she begun interacting.

Friendship. It was lifetimes ago when I last had one. Someone to just exist with, no chain of command to enforce, no ultimate objective to any interactions, no deeply ingrained bond of familial instinct. Merely being, learning, connecting, with another person. And Fizzlepop said she didn't mind starting a friendship with me. Angled, he of a dying race and horribly gruff social skills. Surely she had better options, like the nice ponies who changed her? Or even the nice folks here? I understood that it was for my sake, but still. Pity didn't make a good foundation for a relationship of any permanence.

When we got to our room, little more than two leafy beds with some carved shelves and a curtain of flowering vines in the middle, I asked her as much.

Fizzlepop hummed, sitting down and patting the floor, waiting to answer until I'd joined her. She answered my question with another question. "Why do you think I'm on this journey in the first place?"

"To make amends?" I answered, perplexed. "I thought it was obvious."

"That's part of it, yes," she confirmed. "But here's the thing. I don't belong in Equestria, not anymore," she said, a sort of forlorn wistfulness in her eyes. "I left when I was young and never looked back. Probably have more in common with you if I'm being honest."

"That can't be true," I stated, bluntly. We both knew how to fight and had done things we regretted, but that was about it, as far as I could tell.

"Oh, it is," she insisted. "On the surface, I'm a pony. I can talk to ponies, and act friendly. But being friendly is different from being friends. I grew up in a manner so far removed from how they did that I might as well be a manticore."

That was one way to put it. "I never did get that story. Something to do with the horn?" I asked.

Fizzlepop gave a single nod. Then, she paused to reflect a moment, planning out how exactly to put her thoughts into words before continuing. "Basically. My real reason for this half-baked messenger quest, and why I think we can be friends where I really couldn't with others, is that that experience shaped who I am now. I'm not just going to bury it all to reintegrate myself. That's not what Princess Twilight would suggest."

Meeting her gaze, I could see no doubt in her conviction. Me, though? "So, what, you want me to go with you? So we can help one another relearn friendship?" I turned away. "What happens if your journey ends before I've finished?" Flashes of my past sins bubbled just below the surface, things I could never take back.

"It won't," she said, firmly. "End, that is. It'll just change objective. You have no family? Well, neither do I. But there are a lot of innocent lives out there," she said, waving a hoof at the landscape beyond the window. "Lives like those we remember. Kind ones, from before we screwed up. I am going to atone, by making sure what happened to you won't happen again, Angled."

"That's very noble of you," I said, apprehensive. "Nice sentiment though it is, it's still pretty unrealistic if you ask me. Tragedy will always strike, because people will always make mistakes. And you can't be everywhere at once, even if you could solve every conflict you stumbled across, save every life."

She remained firm, her route chosen. "No, but that doesn't mean it's not worth trying anyway, especially together. We can put what we know to better use, as comrades. Use our might to protect, instead of destroy. Ponies, minotaurs, not everyone can be a warrior. The two of us can fight the battles that they never could."

I found myself unable to look away from her intense eyes. She had all the enthusiasm of a righteous knight, the kind that threw themselves into harms way without regard for their own safety. No way I could pull that off in a million years, not burdened by the weight of cynical years. Still, most of those paladin types had orders. Fizzlepop, like me, had no one. I've already watched too many waste themselves. And honestly, I probably needed her support more than she needed mine.

I sighed, anticipating the quiet days to come between. "I'm no hero. But I can definitely try to be your friend."

Fizzlepop beamed. "I... same."

That evening became our first of many together, the two of us wasting idle hours talking about unimportant things. No urgency, no crisis to avert, at least for now. I'd practically forgotten how it felt to be relaxed, but my time in that weird little room made by giant bugs brought on the return of feelings once eroded. It was like taking a breath of fresh air after being carried along the bottom of a murky river.

There would be more hard times to come later, I knew with certainty. Fizzlepop would seek out danger at every turn, and I would follow. More lives would end, even with my best efforts. Darker parts of my soul might resurface. But now, I wouldn't have to face them alone.

Author's Note:

Drifter’s Unity 1WR
Enchantment
Creatures you control get +2/+1 and can’t attack or block alone.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

We begun to move, Fizzlepop leading me through the evolving wilds.

At least it wasn't a terramorphic expanse. He really doesn't want to end up walking into one of his past selves right now.

The sad thing is that Angrath himself might be the best on-plane hope he has of finding a capable, sympathetic necromancer.

I was somewhat surprised to find that these changelings weren't actually blueish fey creatures with slitted yellow eyes, but rather looked like the product of some Simic biovat into which a pony, a beetle, and an assortment of paints had been dumped.

Who told him about that pro—
I mean, what a ridiculous notion for a krasis that definitely isn't incubating as we speak. Ahem.

"Actually," began Pharynx, "there's the old standby tactic, from when we preyed on ponies. Shapeshifting into a loved one of the target was always the best way of drawing that love to the surface, helping them feel better."

Ah, hadn't thought of that. Even if no one's around for a disentombing, you can always use a body double. That said, declining the offer was probably the wisest move for moving on. Angrath, or rather, Angled, has let his past rule him for long enough.

Excellent resolution (though I will note that that should definitely be Drifters' Unity; there has to be more than one.) Also, brilliant touch with contrasting the found family with, say, the orders of Bant. No exaltation here, just those who are trying to rebuild wrecked lives. Thank you for a great read.

[Thought Prism]

9306962
Again, you're most welcome!

[Arkonfleight]

...is it bad that I'm picturing "Tempest The Lightning Cannon" now?

[OleGrayMane]

I don't know anything about MTG or Angrath but still enjoyed the story.
"Came for Minotaurs, did not leave disappointed" 👍🏻