Hanging on the Edge of Tomorrow

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A/N: Here’s a February update, if only to avoid the hammer by the group at the end of the month.
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Extended Tale of Redemption / Hanging on the Edge of Tomorrow

---{Spirit Redeemer’s POV}

For the majority of my childhood, I didn't have a reason to be unhappy. I was at ease being an earth pony because I didn't have to worry about complicated magic or handling the weather. My mother was a gardener and we both assumed that I would be too. I excelled at maintaining the health of a particular flower called the blue tulip. Supposedly, the blue tulip was a rare diamond in the rough, but I always had a full bouquet ready for Mother to take for that one lucky customer on market day.

They say that a cutie mark is supposed to represent what makes a pony special. It was supposed to be this magical moment where you find out where you truly belonged in this big world. Additionally, what your name was tended to have an uncanny connection to your cutie mark and by extension your destiny. So if Mother thought that I was going to uphold the business of gardening and flower arrangements and my cutie mark was a blue tulip, why did she name me something as profound as Spirit Redeemer?

I suppose having a white, straight mane did make me look a bit ghostly. Mother commented that my hide reminded her of the white evening primrose. Still, "Redeemer" sounded like I would end up compensating for something or some pony. But... what would a girl who has never seen much beyond Ponyville compensate for?

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I always felt warmth from the security blanket known as Luna’s night. I imagined that the stars were my guardian angels, watching over my humble abode near the forest’s edge. The moon acted as their archangel, leading them onward. Sometimes, I swear I could even hear snippets of the stars’ conversations, even though I could never quite make out the words. Regardless, the gentle lull from their utterances helped me to sleep soundly.

This was not the case tonight. While the stars still conversed softly, I looked up at the moon. I couldn’t be sure why I thought this was strange, but the guiding archangelic aura that usually radiated from the moon was absent. I’m no doomsayer, but I was thinking of some rather disheartening, worst-case scenarios. Was Princess Luna ill? Or… dare I say reaching the end of her rope?

Suddenly, a large red veil obscured my vision entirely. The whispers from the stars were all at once silenced. What in Equestria was going on?

“Spirit Redeemer…”

My mouth just moved and spoke in a voice that I had never heard before. I tried to say something, but my lips weren’t cooperating. This unearthly sensation had full control.

“… come.”

Against every instinct screaming at me to ignore that word, my hooves were already on the floor slowly traversing to the door.

What is this? I asked in thought seeing as my voice no longer worked, What’s happening to me?

“Outside, then we’ll discuss.”

Who are you and what do you want with me? I tried to sound demanding even though I was scared.

Whatever this presence was, it ignored my demand and forced me to push the door open. I could only watch while my movements were on autopilot. This was only more unnerving by the fact that everything around me had a red tint. Did this presence want me to be unnerved by a somewhat bloody scene? Because, it was working.

Eventually, I stopped walking and stood in front of the stone marker a few feet away from my house.

This is my father’s gravesite, I pointed out, Why are we…?

“There is something that only you can do.”

The voice used my hoof to start pawing at the dirt next to the stone. Slowly but surely, a metallic object came into view. About then, the other presence used my hoof to lift the object so that I could look at it more closely.

A knife? I questioned, What’s it doing here?

“A dagger made from harder-than-diamond unobtainium. You are the one who shall bring retribution. Spirit Redeemer… Gah!”

In just an instant, the red veil over my eyes cleared and the dagger passed through my hoof and clattered on the ground.

“Wh-What’s happening?” I finally managed to speak. But, it was for naught.

I looked at my raised hoof as it appeared to be getting more transparent and less solid. I tried to scream, but it didn’t make any sound.

I don’t… want to… die.

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????
8:30 AM
A Bedroom

My eyelids felt as a released anchor feels on a boat. I was in a bed. That much I could tell. However, the thickness of the blankets was foreign to me. It took me at least three tries just to get them sufficiently off me.

I felt a little dizzy this morning. It felt like I had forgotten to walk, so I almost fell over a couple times. Some faint feeling was pointing me in the direction of the restroom. I wasn’t going to argue with my half-awake instincts. The sink was a bit higher than I was used to, so I ended up grabbing the edge and pulling myself up.

My eyes opened wide in realizing that I was falling. I landed on my rump with a small thud. That was when I heard them.

Voices. Countless indeterminate voices. These weren’t the gentle hushed tones that the stars I knew used. The utterances I was hearing now resembled harsh whispers of anger, hatred, fear, and depression all at once. I held my ears down to no avail.

Make it stop, I pleaded in thought even though no pony was around to respond, Make it stop!

“Home! I need to go home!” I shouted.

Well, that’s a great idea, I agreed with my outburst, But where is home?

I galloped out of that restroom and headed for the bedroom’s door. I managed to muscle my way through it and continued running toward what I hoped would be a safer place.

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Wagnesday - Thorsday
Unknown Night Hour
Location Pending

I struggled to open my eyes. I guess I had been lying down, because I had to get up on my feet. I tried to look around, but a white, curling mist obscured most of the surrounding area. My most recent memory was one of taking the backseat of my own conscience while some pony named ‘Arlene’ held the reins.

Right now, I could barely identify various flowers growing in haphazard places in the ground. Roses, daffodils, daisies, buttercups, pansies, black-eyed susans… the types went on. Letting my curiosity be piqued, I trotted over to one particular flower in this garden of nowhere. A blue tulip stood out. All of the rest of the flowers had at least one twin. This one didn’t. With a small tug, I lifted it out of the ground.

Instantly, the opaque mist was blown away by a strange wind. I had to close my eyes against its strength. When I could look again, I saw someone that stood on two legs.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Arlene,” she stated calmly, “And you are?”

“Spirit Redeemer,” I answered without pause.

“So, you’re the creature I’ve been turned into.”

She didn’t even sound mad. In fact, she sounded more like she was making a casual observation.

“Honestly, I’m not sure how this even happened,” I shook my head.

“Guess it’s a bit of a moot point what happened,” chuckled Arlene humorlessly.

“I suppose the actual question is, ‘What do we do now’?”

“I don’t know about you,” she started, “but I’d kind of like to have my own body back.”

“And I’d like to be in control of my own actions,” I agreed, “So, judging from one of your recent memories, there’s just one solution.”

She nodded once. Hopefully, their highnesses Princess Celestia and Princess Luna could gather the Element bearers and figure out a solution to this… circumstance. All it would take was a trip to this ‘New York’ location.

“You seem all right, Ms. Arlene,” I smiled while holding up the tulip toward her.

“I guess you’re not all bad either, Spirit,” she responded while picking up the tulip in her hand.

On that word, the curly mist came back with a vengeance.

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Thorsday
6:30 AM
Terry and Arlene’s Bedroom

My neck hurt to turn one way. I guess I must have slept on it wrong last night. Though, a more pressing question I was thinking of at the time was in regards to my mouth. It was a bit dry and it felt like I had been force-fed something.

Why does my mouth taste like quill feather? I wondered.

---{Cier’s POV}

Fried-Zucchini-Day
7:50 PM (Eastern Time)
Baggage Claim

I was tired of meditating for the day and decided to fill up some of my time by watching old episodes of Freeman’s Mind again. It was the episode where he found a rocket launcher and then was proceeding to scientifically disprove certain conspiracy theories.

“Mind reading! That was it!” Freeman declared, “Okay, let’s assume it exists. The tin foil hat people… What do they think? That it’s electromagnetic radiation? Then what do they think the tin is going to do?”

I found Freeman about to slip and fall way more amusing than I should have. I think I let loose a quiet chuckle. After screaming to the heavens, he proceeded to talk to himself like nothing had happened.

“So anyway, if it’s electromagnetic, you’d need a Faraday cage to block that and a tin foil hat doesn’t act like one. It’s not even grounded. In all likelihood, a chunk of metal on your head is going to conduct any signal that you’re worried about, not block it.”

That’s a rather large pool of insight.

I nodded to Fifty-one’s observation in silent agreement as a face-hugger leaped out of the pipe to the canyon below.

“Got it!” called Dad as he found his suitcase, “Ready to go, Cier?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed as I shut my laptop.

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Author's Note:

I'm running out of ways to fill the time of the events that Cier and his folks go through as the "last day" draws ever nearer.
In fact, I've already got a template for a possible scenario that takes place after the "epic climax".
Eh, maybe I'll just pass the time with an impromptu "Babs Seed" parody.
~Main six, main six,
What we gonna do?
You're all working off your tails
Some backgrounders had to bail
Main six, main six,
Discord's on the move
Elements of Harmony
Have to purge the entropy.
Main six, main six
We've just run out of tricks.
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.
...
Yeah(x5)~