Drown
“I’m beginning to wonder if there even is a solution to this,” Rockhoof muttered grumpily as he leaned his head against the glass tank.
“Well, what have you tried thus far?” Mistmane asked from her position inside said tank.
“The valves do nothing except make things worse, and the order doesn’t seem to matter.” Dozens of wasted loops over that. “Can’t access whatever the source of this infernal water is, so that option’s out.” He quietly noted that catching Mistmane before she became trapped in the tank was impossible, as she was already in it almost immediately after each loop reset.
“Breaking the glass also seems to be impossible, as it has proven to be indestructible.”
“I’m not so certain about that, lass.”
“You took more damage from trying to break it than the glass took from you.”
Rockhoof rubbed a sore shoulder as he winced.
“Seeing as you are the strongest pony here and that using a weapon just makes things worse—” a pointed look at the bump on Rockhoof’s head and the remains of a wooden chair in the corner of the room “—I believe it is safe to say that the tank is invincible, considering the options available to us.” Mistmane pondered a moment. “It may also be mocking us, but attributing malice to an inanimate object feels like a path toward madness.”
“Aye, aye,” Rockhoof agreed. “There also doesn’t seem to be some sort of switch to turn off the water for this tank. Plenty of options for all the other tanks, though,” He growled the last part.
“And there’s only one entry point?”
“From above, but Flash and Som are galloping off who knows where.”
“If they went off to get some private one-on-one time together, I’m spiking their tea with laxatives next chance I get.”
“Rather petty of you, Misty.”
“I’m about to drown,” Mistmane remarked dryly, the water having risen to just above her knees. “I believe I’m entitled to a bit of out-of-character spite.”
“Aye, aye,” Rockhoof agreed.
“Though, even if they were here, I’m somewhat skeptical of their ability to fit through that gap despite how small they are.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose there is some engineer or servant of the house to assist with my predicament?”
“Nay, there is no one that I could find, and even should there truly be someone else here, I would assume they be hostile or another victim like us considering the circumstances.”
“So, I am to die here,” Mistmane stated simply.
“That’s—” Rockhoof attempted to think of the right words, but realized there weren’t any. “Aye, Misty. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for. I’m the old fool that wandered into this trap. You would think with my age, I’d know better,” She jested.
A snort. “You’re younger than I am.”
“And yet so much wiser. Must be the wrinkles.”
“Aye, must be.”
They chuckled at the joke but eventually settled into a morose silence as the water reached Mistmane’s chest.
“I have a favour to ask of you,” Mistmane said.
“Anything,” Rockhoof replied.
“Stay with me until the end?”
In lieu of an answer, Rockhoof pressed his hoof against the glass. Mistmane smiled bittersweetly as the water level rose to her head.
“We melt it,” Rockhoof proposed as he paced back-and-forth before Mistmane’s tank.
“There isn’t enough time for Meadowbrook to brew a potion strong enough to do so, and, as you’ve stated, her potions aren’t working how they should,” Mistamane replied as she eyed the water rising up to her chest. “Meaning that, in the worst case, the result puts us in a more dire situation than we already are in.”
“Stygian is smart. He could figure out the mechanical parts of the tank, then free you.”
“He is indeed intelligent, however, mechanical devices are his blindspot. I’m sure you still remember the catapult?”
Rockhoof stopped. “It… worked.”
Mistmane smiled thinly.
“Starswirl’s beard grew back after we cut most of it off to get rid of the tree sap,” Rockhoof defended.
“Yes, and for several months after that incident, you and Flash called him ‘Starbaby’ for looking too young without it.”
“He looked funny!”
“He did, but that is also why Stygian isn’t allowed near machines, since that is hardly the only example of one of his engineering ‘solutions’ going awry.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mess up… this… time…” Rockhoof faltered under Mistmane’s patient expression. “Fine, you’re right. Stygian is a bad choice.” He resumed his pacing.
“For this particular situation, yes. Though, since you mentioned him, perhaps Starswirl may be of assistance?”
“I have no idea where he is right now, and, even if I did, he isn’t himself.”
“Unfortunate, since having a powerful unicorn with a large repertoire of spells would be rather beneficial right now. I presume Som and Flash are likewise unavailable?”
“They’re somewhere on the second floor of this accursed place, and I’ve been unable to catch more than a glimpse of them as they race off somewhere else.”
“Another dead end, then.” Mistmane pondered a moment. “There is no one else within the mansion to help?”
“Nay, just us in here.”
A thump resounded through the room with each of Rockhoof’s hooffalls in the ensuing silence, the stallion desperately wracking his brain for a solution as the water continued to rise. Mistmane stared wistfully off into the distance, seeing a place far away from where they were.
“I always wanted to be buried in my garden,” she remarked.
“You will be, later. We’ll get you out of this tank, then ensure it happens, but only after a good many more years with the rest of us.”
A sigh. “I’m sorry Rockhoof, but even if I wasn’t going to die here, it wasn’t as if I would have that much time left with the rest of you anyways.”
Rockhoof stopped and turned toward Mistmane. “Misty, what do you…”
He trailed off as he took in the floating form of Mistmane in the tank, her mane billowing around her in the water. Rockhoof pressed his head to the glass as he pondered over Mistmane’s meaning.
“Can we talk, Misty?” Rockhoof asked.
“I suppose, but I believe their may be a more pressing matter to attend to.” Mistamne gestured to the water that was up to her pastern. “Could we not speak after dealing with this?”
“It’s really important,” Rockhoof stressed.
A sigh. “I suppose I am a captive audience considering my current predicament. Ask away.”
“Aye, so, I’m not sure how to broach this, but…” He hesitated for a moment as he tried to think of the right words. “Are you going to die soon?”
Mistmane blinked. “Well, I mean the water keeps rising, so inevitably—”
“I meant outside of the tank.”
“Outside of the tank? Rockhoof unless you know something I do not, I don’t think I quite understand what you’re trying to ask.”
“Right, sorry, let me try again.” He coughed to clear his throat. “I meant to ask if you think you’ll die soon. Like… you feel as if you’re running out of time?”
“That’s…” She glanced askance.
“So, you do.”
“Rockhoof,” Mistmane pleaded.
“You can tell me, Misty.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure that I can.”
“Do you not trust me?” Rockhoof asked in a hurt tone.
“No! Of course I trust you, it’s just…” she trailed off.
“Just what?”
“With you in particular—” A sigh. “Rockhoof, I’m concerned that you’re stretched too thin.”
Rockhoof blinked dumbly. He raised a foreleg and flexed.
“I meant emotionally.”
“I don’t follow.”
“We, the pillars, have been together for a long time and been through countless very dangerous adventures that have been…” She grasped for the right word, “... taxing on all of us. Even the most mentally sound of ponies would crack under that kind of constant pressure, and we weren’t that stable to begin with.”
“We can take it. We’re made of sterner stuff than the average pony,” Rockhoof defended.
“Even the mightiest of mountains erodes with time. You and Stygian both suffer from being coddled and belittled by those around you. Flash and Starswirl are becoming more and more reckless as they become entrenched with a need to prove themselves, despite their already significant accomplishments. Meadowbrook bottles up her problems tighter than the potions she brews, and Somnambula buries her grief under layers of false cheer. And I—” She stopped. “Begrudgingly, I agree that we are, as you put it, made of ‘sterner stuff’, but I worry that we are all reaching a breaking point.”
“That just means we need to lean on each other for support,” Rockhoof said. “We just—”
“You are the last of us that should suggest such a thing,” Mistmane interjected.
A moment of silence. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re stretched too thin! We all rely on you far too greatly at present, and you can’t keep taking on our baggage!”
“I freely offer too!”
“And most of us take too much advantage of it!” Mistmane replied, her voice rising to a near frenzy. “Flash and Stygian use you as a crutch for their own insecurities! Meadowbrook tends to draw into herself when something is bothering her, then only goes to you to work through it! Starswirl, someone who should know better than to overstep someone’s boundaries, is constantly pushing you to take on more responsibility, when you already do too much as is! It is disheartening to watch you wear yourself down like this!”
Another bout of silence followed in the wake of Mistmane’s outburst. Her chest heaved as she drew in ragged breaths, her face flush in exertion. After a moment, Rockhoof snorted.
“You—” Mistmane reared back, offended. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just—” Another snort “—Misty, are ya mad that I’m being taken advantage of, or that I’m taking away your role as group parent?”
A gasp of offense. “Excuse you?! How dare you insinuate that I would be so angry about not being the— the— mom!”
Rockhoof grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Mistmane fumed for a moment before eventually releasing her own involuntary snort.
“You’re terrible,” Mistmane chided as she giggled.
“I am, and, now that I’ve derailed ya, you can start telling me about what’s really bothering you.”
“I am concerned about you being relied on too heavily by everyone.”
“I know. You’ve always taken care of us since, and I’ll quote you this time, you like to ‘bring out the best in us’. But that’s not what’s really getting you so bent out of shape.”
“It’s not my place to burden others with my problems.”
“Then don’t think of me as an other. Think of me as a support rock. I’m apparently really good at it.”
“Did I not already tell you that—”
“I take on so much because I’m afraid that if I don’t, there’ll be a situation we can’t overcome because I didn’t put in everything I have and the thought of losing any of you because of my own inaction would hurt more than any physical wound,” Rockhoof interjected. “Now, you.”
A heavy silence stretched between them as Mistmane attempted to muster the courage to speak. Only the sound of the rising water climbing toward Mistmane’s chest interrupted it.
“What is my age, Rockhoof?” Mistmane asked.
“I don’t know. We met well after you became who you are now. Why do you ask?”
“Because I am also unsure of the answer.” She raised a hoof to stop Rockhoof from interrupting. “I know what my intended age is, but I don’t know if that matches with how I appear.”
“You think your body is older than your mind?”
Mistmane nodded. “I don’t have any of the usual ailments a mare of my seeming age would have, but there is no certainty to that, as it isn’t a guarantee an older mare would show any signs. For all I may know, I could pass away from natural causes several decades in the future or…”
“... next week,” Rockhoof finished.
Another lapse of silence.
“... I have a rather twisted desire,” Mistmane said.
“Aye?” Rockhoof asked.
“Amongst us pillars, I wish to pass last.”
“Not a common wish.”
“No, it isn’t, and, to be clear, it isn’t from some spiteful need to outlive the younger-looking members of our group. It’s something much more disgusting.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should, for this sick mare wants to die last so she can comfort you all as we die one-by-one. It’s inevitable that we will pass, and my only desire is to be there for everyone, to assist in helping them emotionally cope with the loss.”
“That’s not twisted, Misty.”
“I want to watch all my dearest friends die before me, then tend to them like flowers in my garden to ensure they do not wilt. I have seen brambles with less entanglement.”
“You’re misinterpreting your own desires out of fear for your age.” Rockhoof pressed a hoof against the glass, willing comfort toward his friend. “You’re a caretaker by nature. You—”
“Just want to tend to a perfect—”
“—just don’t want to not be there when we need you,” Rockhoof finished, rolling over Mistmane’s words. “It’s not wrong to want to be around for a long time, especially with how close we all are to each other.”
“You can’t know my heart, Rockhoof.”
“I can, and I do,” Rockhoof retorted. “You were chosen as the pillar of beauty.”
She hung her head. “For the shallow reason of being a gardener of above-average skill and being willing to not be the prettiest pony in the room.”
“Yes, which you gave up willingly to help another. You don’t need a youthful appearance to be beautiful, the purity of your soul more than makes up for it.” Mistmane looked up at Rockhoof in surprise. “I can use fancy words too.”
“I had no doubt that you could, but I am surprised by your bold choice of words and find some disbelief in them.”
“You shouldn’t,” Rockhoof said. “When you sacrificed your beauty for another, you proved that you were capable of looking past your own hate to see the seed of something good in another. Then you joined us and did it again. And again. And again, because that’s who you are, Mistmane. A caretaker. The one who sees the best in others and brings that spark out because you believe in them.
“You’re not twisted. You’re sad and afraid because you don’t know how long you have left and you’re worried you won’t be there to help us when we need you. I might be an emotional support rock, but you’re the one that cares for each of us more than we ever could for ourselves.”
“You—” Mistmane chuckled sadly as a stray tear trickled down her face. “When did you become so wise?”
“I learned it from all of you.”
Mistmane smiled and pressed her hoof against the glass where Rockhoof had placed his earlier. As she did, a loud clunk echoed through the room. The glass walls descended into the ground and released the built up water onto the floors of the room. Both Rockhoof and Mistmane stared at the place where the tank wall disappeared in surprise.
Once the initial shock wore off, Rockhoof proffered open his forelegs. Mistmane took the offer and charged into Rockhoof’s hooves, letting herself be engulfed in his hug. She held tight, letting herself be comforted by her dear friend, taking solace in his company.
In another part of the mansion, a purple light began to glow.
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oh ok so, they need to sort out their emotional problems to escape?
nice
idk Mistmane, have you seen all the wacky stuff that goes on in Equestria?
ehehe nice
aww, she truly was the proto-Rarity!
augh love it
oh yeah the idea of Starswirl without a beard really is quite something
augh love it
oof! guessing this is because her premature aging wasn’t just limited to her appearance?
oof! love this breakdown of the group and their dynamics. and if this story is set before they went into Limbo, it may explain why they apparently did not have too many reservations about it…
oh dang, so even his heartening speech to Rockhoof was a part of his whole deal…
ahaha, truly the Applejack and Rarity of the group
augh, loved this whole sequence. Mistmane’s feelings about her own feelings were so real. i can definitely relate, in my own way