The Bar at the Edge of Nowhere

by Syric Philharmonica

I Think, Therefore I Am Not (Moonstone part 2)

Author's Note:

Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I got caught up teaching a friend of mine how to optimize storage spaces. So please excuse any drop in my writing quality. Also, I'll be changing the date of new chapters to Fridays. I was informed that having a set schedule is much better than whenever a new chapter was finished. In any case, enjoy this chapter!

'On the subject of Sentient Armaments, also known as Living Weapons, there is no known activation trigger or clear starting point to It's development. All modern scientific research can determine is that when a consciousness is created it is then influenced by the stimuli around it, lending each subject a unique personality similar to our own.'

-Deep Thought, "Non-Living Entities", printed 647 in response to growing fear.

---

Much time had passed since It had strove to Understand why Self bothered it so. Self was not a Sense, It knew that well. But It was able to Understand that Self had a great deal of importance to Something's world, and It wanted to be a part of Something's world. So It did what It excelled at. Using It's Senses to Understand.

At first It could not make sense of Self as It heard it described in passing snippets This provided, It's rudimentary sentience working hard to break it down into something more manageable. It however, did not grow frustrated with It's lack of progress (Due in no small part to It's reluctance to Understand Agony.) and decided to try another angle. It looked deeper inward, toward that curling knot of Magik deep inside It's core and attempted for the first time to draw from it.

The core of It was created from ambient Magik generated from the reputation both Something and It had made, all of the fear and respect had pulled the Magik inward into a solid whorl with enough energy to give life to It. as such, when the tightly wound strands of Magik were brushed against they recoiled from It's probing before settling and allowing It the pull the Magik into Itself. All at once It was bombarded with feelings, thoughts, and Knowledge.

The feelings were overwhelming at first, so It pushed them aside to peruse at a later time. The thoughts were much easier to parse through and It voraciously assimilated them, advancing It's Understanding of It's own mind. Said understanding in turn increased It's own intelligence, and It was finally able to recategorize everything It knew.

It was now able to recognize that It was a living entity, and that Something was also one! It now knew that This and That were senses called Hear and Sight! With this new Understanding of It's own capabilities It eagerly returned It's attention to the Feelings offered and devoured them, and was stunned into inaction by... Everything. The sheer amount of everything It was learning from the Feelings was almost to much to comprehend. But one thing shone out from the mess of information It was experiencing, and It fished it out of the flood with a small amount of difficulty before realizing that it was a new ability.

The power of Speech.

---

Stalwart Shield was not having a good day. It had all started when he was called forward to train his regiments new recruits on how to use their war hammers correctly; there had been too many blunt force trauma incidents after all. Normally Stalwart would be more than happy to pass on his knowledge to the younger soldiers, but it seemed that none of them shared his enthusiasm. Between the blatant disregard of safety protocols and the direct challenging of his authority Stalwart found it hard to reign in his satisfaction when the recruits immediately tried to backpedal when he sent them all to their superior.

After that disastrous training session Stalwart was ordered to provide guard to Lock Away while he transferred an artefact from his lab to storage. Lock Away had filled the silence with a slew of unique insults toward him, and Stalwart had to commend him on his creativity. 'Thou'rt just the afterbirth, Knight, slithered out on thy mother’s filth. They should have put thee in a glass jar on a mantelpiece.' was his personal favorite.

At least after all that Stalwart could relax in his room, far away from the stresses that plagued him. That is, before his great hammer started talking to him.

"Some...Thing..?" With a start Stalwart fell out of his cot and landed in a sprawled heap on the ground before leaping to his hooves, casting his gaze everywhere to find whoever had invaded his room.

"Who's there!? Show thyself!" Stalwart demanded, telekinetically grabbing his emergency dagger and putting his back to the nearby wall. "I Knoweth that thou is here, come out and faceth me Cur!" Once a few minutes had passed with no response Stalwart began to edge his way toward the door of his room, not letting his guard down to a perceived threat.

"Something..?" Stalwart whipped his head over to the weapon mount and stared disbelievingly at his hammer, sure in what he heard but unable to accept it. Upon actually seeing it however he had to spuress a gasp as his Hammer was engulfed in a glowing silver aura. 'That glow, I cannot believeth it. Did... Did my hammer speaketh?' Numbly, Stalwart let the dagger clatter to the ground as he stepped closer to his weapon, hesitant but curious.

"hello? Can... Can thou heareth me?" He asked, both hoping and dreading getting an answer as he feverishly searched his memory for any possible moment that something like this had ever happened before. In response to his words the glow surrounding the hammer intensified for a moment. "What art thee?"

"Something Help... It..." At this statement Stalwart refocused on the present and realized that 'Something' referred to himself.

"I see. Partially. I am Something, and thou art It?" The glow brightened in affirmation again so Stalwart decided to take the plunge. Steeling himself for what was sure to be a long ordeal Stalwart opened his mouth to ask. "How can I help thee?"

"Help It... Understand... Self..." The voice sighed, the dim glow surrounding the hammer pulsing in time with his own breathing. Stalwart thought over the request for a moment, his eyes shifting to the door and window before he gathered his resolve and turned back to his weapon.

"I shall help thee It. Let us begin."

Comments

[Booster Spice]

Simplest speech is but vibrations of the air, the shaking upon striking a more resiliant opponanta dn the effort decaying thereafter?

Such simplicities, such complexities.

[Syric Philharmonica]

11577873
No it does not. Everything from the title to the content of the story are all original ideas from me. Hope you stick around!

[Fireeaters]

I wonder if a legendary surgeon's scalpel could come to life

[Syric Philharmonica]

11696918
It could, under the proper circumstances. For example; If the surgeon used the same scalpel and it was recognizably the same one then yes, it could. In the magical land of Equestria, where the very oxygen they breath is inundated with magic, belief can play a huge part. So if the surgeon had a recognizably unique scalpel that they used exclusively, the peoples' belief could bring life to it.