Pandemic: Starting Over

by Halira

Chapter 44: No Easy Answers

Cold pizza was not the most fabulous lunch, but an adequate one. I chowed down on plain cheese pizza as I read the letter that the humans left me.

Dear Mutants,

Since you spoke in English, we must assume you possess human-level intelligence. We don't know how you found out about us, but I don't see any armor or anything on your bodies to protect you from good old fashioned guns. If you try to set one foot into our bunker, we'll fill your guts full of lead.

I paused and took a sip of my tea. My, this letter certainly started on a positive note. Which was better to be seen as, a mutant or an alien?

Further, this is OUR house, and you are the trespassers. We won't be paying any rent. We don't know how you found us after all this time, but we've got a whole army down here ready to fight to retake our world.

That was pure bluster, meant to scare us away. They had no army. Still, the aggressive stance was concerning for achieving a peaceful resolution.

We will not engage in any more of this stupid passing of notes. We expect you to leave!

They didn't even sign it. I supposed I could get their names from either Number or Malcomb. One or both should know the names of previous owners. That still left me to figure out how to continue communicating with them if they were going to refuse to write notes. I wasn't going to send anyone in there, that was for sure.

I took another sip of my tea and weighed options.

"Is the tea still to your liking, ma'am?"

I looked over to Lántiān, who was now sitting at the piano, examining it more closely. A human guard stood by the door going into the kitchen, and I knew another guard was in the kitchen itself.

"The tea is excellent, thank you," I answered, then took another sip to reaffirm that to her. "You know, if you want to try the piano, you are welcome to do so. You aren't a small foal who would mistreat it and damage it."

She didn't reply, but began testing the piano's keys. Perhaps she was checking the sound quality or tuning. I never learned how to play the piano, so I was unsure. I had played three types of drums in marching band back in high school, but hadn't touched an instrument in ages. I doubted I could still play a drum. After all, holding a drumstick in magic was different than holding one in a hand; certain learned reflexes didn't translate, and it would require relearning everything over again. It was odd, suddenly finding nostalgia for the drums.

It also made me think again of Yinyu and her dedication to her instrument that made her relearn to play it after her transformation and having more significant physical challenges in doing so than I would face if I were to try to relearn the drums. It seemed like something she was extremely passionate about, yet she didn't get her mark in it, and she kept her music private, only sharing it with her family. She was a puzzling mare at times.

Yinyu and Krik were the two Dreamwardens who no amount of digging through the existing records could reveal anything about their pasts. It was clear Krik's records were kept hidden by the Russians, but Yinyu's records didn't seem to exist at all. China didn't have anything to suppress. All that was ever said was she was a prostitute, possibly a thief as well before ETS—and those accounts were strictly hearsay. People born on the streets typically didn't receive formal music education, that was for sure.

"Your mother never said why she didn't perform her music?" I asked Lántiān. It was mild curiosity. Yinyu presented a puzzle, and I wanted to understand it.

Lántiān gave a sad shake of her head. "She only said she had a deeply painful experience, ma'am, but would never give further details. She was always guarded about her thoughts and history. I know she loved playing her music. When we were preparing to run, she felt pained as she realized she could not afford to bring her violin with her. I could see it in her face as she gave it a final look. It was the only possession she seemed distraught about leaving behind."

Maybe I could ask her, but I doubted Yinyu would tell me anything she would not tell her own family.

None of this speculation about Yinyu did anything to help me figure out what to do about the humans down below. I needed to reestablish communication with them, let them know we were not going to be intimidated, try to get them to understand that we weren't out to kill them or turn them into ponies, and I needed to do that without inciting violence. I was honestly stumped on how to accomplish any of that.

Lántiān began playing the piano in earnest. The filly used her forelegs to press the keys closest to her and used her wings to reach keys further away. The tune seemed familiar—not something classical, perhaps something from a movie score or video game. I was sure I had heard it somewhere before, but could not place it. It was a sad tune, a lonely tune.

I sat and listened. Trying just to relax and let my thoughts drift. There was work to be done, but I was so caught up in stresses and distractions to properly focus. I needed some time to relax and clear my mind.

The song went on for a minute or two before she stopped. I privately wanted her to keep going, but decided not to ask. "My wife… she was a lover of music as well. She didn't play an instrument; she was an instrument. She had such a lovely voice, and she would sing when she was sad or afraid. Songs gave her comfort and hope."

"I assumed as much, ma'am. Her title is the Warden of Song," Lántiān replied.

"She would also sing to encourage others. I miss truly hearing her voice. In the dream it’s not the same," I continued, as grief welled up in me. "She was the first person I ever lost. I never really knew my grandparents, so their passing had no effect. My parents and siblings are very much alive, as is my daughter, my grandfoals, my nieces and nephews, in-laws, even my ex-husband, and his family. Every single member of my family is alive but her. You would think I wouldn't take one death so hard when everyone else is alive, but it is so hard."

"It was not my intent to distress you further, ma'am. I am sorry," Lántiān said quietly. I could hear the shame in her voice—such a puzzling filly.

I shook my head. "No, I enjoyed your playing. It was beautiful. I am sure your mother is proud of how talented you are."

She frowned down at the keys of the piano. "I am glad you enjoyed it, but there is no talent, ma'am. It is only hard work to try to earn her praise. Just as I will learn to draw, though I am without talent. I strive to earn her approval—even now that she is…"

I focused my gaze on her. "And why do you think art is so important now? Nopony should define their abilities or interests purely by their talent, but you seem to avoid doing anything with yours."

She glared back at me. "It is something I cannot speak of, ma'am. I shall master drawing and painting. It is important."

I frowned, trying to decide how much to push. "Well, don’t dedicate your life to earning the praise of others, you should take time to develop the things that bring you joy. You enjoy flying, how did your flight go yesterday? And don't say fine. Give me details."

"I could not match her, ma'am," Lántiān said bitterly. "I could tell that she deliberately flew in such a way as to match my ability yet she still easily outperformed me."

"I wouldn't expect you to match her," I replied. "She is one of the most powerful pegasi and greatest fliers that our world has to offer. Even if she wasn't blessed with such advantages, she is still a grown mare while you are still just a teen who hasn't finished growing. And what opinion did she have of your performance? Sapphire Sky is an arrogant snot, but I trust she knows how to judge another pegasus's talents."

"She said I was a strong flier for my age, ma'am. She also suggested forms of training that would improve my skills. I did not like that some of them came from Equestrians but they admittedly have more experience," Lántiān answered reluctantly.

"Good!" I exclaimed. "So, improve your flight skills. I am not your mother, but I have spoken to her, and know of her. She would want you to pursue what brings you joy. You could only disappoint her if you suppress your passions."

Lántiān looked me in my eyes. "Did you know that is my mother's true title, ma'am? She is the Warden of Passion. Some ponies started calling her the Warden of Lust very early on as a derogatory joke, and she embraced the joke and started introducing herself that way, but Passion is her true title. She would say to me that passion is a great spear with points on both sides, able to help you slay mighty beasts, but if you are not careful, you may find yourself as the beast impaled."

I grimaced. "I think something gets lost in translation, and it’s an odd saying for a pony. Why would you even have a spear like that?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps, it is odd. She says she remembers the phrase from the fragment of another life, so we may lack the cultural context to fully understand it. Still, the meaning is evident, ma'am. Passion can be a great tool, but it can also be your undoing."

That just left me wondering how many things that weren't Tonya's memories were in her head now, things from beings dead thousands if not millions or even billions of years ago. I didn't want any more reminders of how different she was now.

I sighed. "Fine, I will indulge you trying to impress your mother with art, but I want you to work on your flight as well. I want you to take the next three hours for flying. The first hour I want you practicing whatever Sapphire instructed you on. The next two hours of flying are for you. After you get back I want you to focus on your daughter for the rest of the day, and not worry about your brothers. You may have an hour to work on your art this evening. This is going to be the normal routine. I am going to be the primary one worrying about your brothers, not you. I may ask your assistance at times, but they are my responsibility."

She narrowed her eyes and fluffed her feathers. "I am being punished? What have I done to earn punishment, ma'am?"

I blinked. "What? Why do you think you are being punished?"

"You took away my responsibility to my brothers, ma'am," she replied stiffly.

"Correction, I am taking back the responsibility that I and your mother have unfairly dumped on you," I replied. "You are a teenaged filly who already has the immense responsibility of taking care of her own foal. How long have you been acting as second mother to your little brothers? Tell me."

"Since they were born, ma'am," Lántiān replied. "Seven years for my first brother."

"So… since you were about nine, more or less?" I asked.

"That would be correct, ma'am."

I shook my head. "That is too young for a filly to be forced to try and be an adult. No wonder you're so serious all the time. You've had to give up all the times you should have been playing with friends and finding yourself. You still have a filly you need to care for, but you need to care more about yourself and your needs, otherwise you'll end up hurting her just like your mother hurt you."

Lántiān fluffed her wings, and seemed completely flustered. "My mother didn't— I would never—"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What is your daughter going to think when you never smile at her or laugh with her? Is she going to understand that you are busy and never learned to express your emotions well because you had to be so grown-up from a young age, or is she going to be just like you, wondering what she has to do to make you proud and happy with her and feeling like she can only fail? You need to stop focusing on what will make your mother proud of you and start focusing on what will make you happy. Otherwise you won't ever be happy and your daughter will think it is her fault."

My words must have struck a chord, because Lántiān's cold exterior broke. "I… you are cruel mare, ma'am, for suggesting that I—that she—"

"For giving you the cold hard truth?" I questioned. "I'm in charge of all the foals of Yinyu, which I remind you includes you. It's my job to see you grow up to be fully functioning and well-adjusted ponies. Your brothers are typical for their ages, despite their hardships, but you are the one who is the real damaged goods. It isn't your fault, but it is my responsibility to try to help heal you. I don't know if I can do that, because I am damaged goods too, but I sure as hell am going to try."

"You think I am broken? Worthless?" she asked, lips quivering.

I left my chair and walked over to where she was sitting on the piano bench. I stared her in there and then did something else that might have been stupid. I lit my horn, gently grasped her in my magic, brought her down to me, then grasped her with my forelegs.

She stiffened as I hugged her. "You are not worthless," I said gently. "To Qīng Yǔ, you are the most important and most loved person in her life. I don't know your mother's history, but I have a feeling she didn't get the love that she deserved, and it meant she had a hard time showing you her love. I don't want you to continue that cycle. I don't want you to be like your mother, hiding your talents and your feelings away from the world. I'm sure she doesn't want that either."

Her head leaned into me, and for a moment I thought she was going to have herself a good cry and let me comfort her, then she suddenly shoved me off her, and the next thing I knew, I had a wing barely graze my face as she tried to slap me. I stumbled back and saw her glaring and snorting at me. "I would believe you more if you took more care of yourself, ma'am. You are a hypocrite! You are also not my mother and need to stop trying to be!"

I was getting tired of being struck by that filly. Sure, I probably deserved a lot of it, but it was getting old. What did I need to do to get through to her? I had to remind myself it had only been a few days, and she was carrying far more baggage than her brothers.

"I am never going to be your mother but I am in charge. New rule," I said through gritted teeth. "You will cease to express your displeasure with me through violence. It is not a habit I will have you get into. Do I make myself clear?"

She straightened up her posture. "Perfectly, ma'am. May I be excused to go do as you wished? I think I would like to be away from you for a few hours."

I waved a hoof dismissively. "Go on. Make sure you have your phone on so I can reach you if I need to."

The filly stormed out of the room in a huff, and I sat trying to figure out how I managed to screw up this time around.

"For what it's worth, I thought the hug was sweet," the human guard spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

I didn't reply. I just banged my head against the piano. I was just incapable of doing right by that filly.

Author's Note:

What was played.

Comments

[harts fire]

it sure is sounding like the humans are only going to understand one thing to get them out.

[badninja]

Well we know she partially succeeded in helping Lántiān with her issues. Still both of these mares need help because I wonder how much of these problems are because Sunset is projecting her issues onto the other?

[keroko]

Hmm, Sunset did the right thing here, she just needs to realize that Lántiān is dealing with a literal lifetime of issues, and those take time and persistence to break through.

Not to mention that, as Lántiān notes, Sunset is not her mother. One of the hardest realities for foster families to accept is that they should never expect the children they foster to love them. Their job is to provide a stable and loving home for the children they foster so the children can grow up surrounded by that love and stability, but none of that means the children are obligated to love them back. Lántiān might never return what love Sunset pours her way, but Sunset has to stay the course she has taken here in giving Lántiān her own life back.

[Mr Swanky Hat]

Cold pizza was not the most fabulous lunch, but an adequate one.

only adequate? Heresy