• Published 2nd Dec 2012
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Xenophilia: Further tales. - TheQuietMan

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59: I close my eyes and I keep seeing things.

I close my eyes and I keep seeing things.
Chapter published 17th July 2014


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Tonight’s dream was not exactly going the way Lero had expected.

Dry leaves and small twigs crunched and snapped underfoot as the human made his way through the trees. Having absolutely no idea where, or when, he was he’d just picked a direction and stuck with it. He was unlikely - he reasoned - to die of starvation or exposure in his own mind, so he might as well just head in any random direction until he ran across someone... or something.

He was supposed to have met Luna by now for one of their DVD nights, but instead of drifting off and ending up standing in the dreamtime’s version of the princess’s ‘Fortress of Solitude’ up on Selene’s surface as he usually did, he instead had found himself deep within a forest... a forest he’d not seen in a long, long time.

Above his head, mighty redwoods towered over him by hundreds of feet, their lofty branches blocking out much of the daylight, though allowing just enough through to let beam after beam illuminate the light fog that drifted between the trees. Down around his feet, and often up to his waist, verdant green ferns grew unchecked, forcing him to move with caution at times as his feet temporarily disappeared from view again and again.

While he’d been looking forward to anime night - his viewing companion had developed a real taste for Sailor Moon lately - he instead found himself enthralled by this unexpected visit to a long lost piece of his childhood. Running a hand across the surface of the closest tree, his fingers caught a loose piece of bark, the soft, fibrous material coming loose and falling to the ground below. His eye caught the dark red of the freshly exposed unweathered bark, his nose crinkling as it picked up the woody scent of the raw material.

Closing his eyes, Lero held out his arms, stretched them out wide from his sides. As he took a deep breath, taking in the unmistakable scent of the pacific coast, long forgotten memories sprang forth from the bowels of his brain.

He could hear the sounds of children playing; running, chasing, playing tag. Friends ran with him, ferns pushed aside as they charged through the undergrowth. The trees were so big and they were so small. You could hide half the class behind a single trunk.

His father called to him from by the fire, asking for more wood. He gathered what he could find, his young body wobbling from side to side as he half carried, half dragged the huge pile back to camp. Boy, it was a lot further to get back than he remembered.

A finger held against the trigger as he lined up on his target. Breath held, let out, drawn in, let out. He watched through the scope as the magnificent creature looked about, sniffing at the air, its ears twitching as it listened for predators. His aim was good, his quarry dead in the middle of his sights, all that was left was to... His finger relaxed, scope lowered, the rifle returned to its owner. He didn’t want to play this game.

His father came to a stop, fingers curled tightly around the head of his walking staff. He paused to wipe at his eyes. He did not often speak of his years in the forces, and even then only out here, in the peace and tranquility of their long walks together. Often he would stop talking mid-sentence; to think, to recover, to relive what he had.... Sometimes he would continue from where he left off, just as often he would change the subject. Lero never pushed him for more than he was ready to give. Sometimes respecting the silence was more important than hearing the words. .

The sun beat down on his face, warming his body as he counted down from fifty. Around him the children ran; playing, running, chasing. They were so small and the trees were so large. Half the class had managed to hide behind a single trunk. He smiled as he watched the small ones run around, their glee, their unbridled joy, at being out here with nature, not just watching it from behind a TV or monitor. Kids never changed, and hopefully they never would.

His mother had once told him that a human being’s sense of smell had a direct link to their memory, that revisiting scents could could bring back long forgotten events in a way that no other sense could. If anyone would know about something like that, it would have been his mom. After all, the university hadn’t been paying her all that time just for her dancing skills.

Opening his eyes, the memories faded, the shouts of the young replaced by the whispered sounds of the wind through the trees, the rustle of the leaves. In the distance an animal could be heard through the fog, its cry carried by the unhurried breeze. A mother calling for her own little ones perhaps? Dropping his arms, he continued his slow trek through the bush.

Before long he came to a clearing, the trees and ferns giving way to packed dirt with a large open pool of water just beyond. Skirting the edge of the crystal clear water he came to a short waterfall, no more than fifteen foot in height, which fed into the pool.

Moving closer, he could feel the spray from the waterfall misting against his face, tiny droplets of water forming on his beard. Holding out a hand towards the waterfall he watched as dry skin quickly became damp, rivlets forming as the water collected itself together and ran down his arm towards his elbow.

The wind picked up, branches and boughs moving out of the way to let the sun streak down, a colourful rainbow forming in the spray before him. The optical illusion hovered tantalisingly close, less than a dozen inches from his fingertips it seemed, remaining just out of reach no matter how much he stretched.

From behind him, a woman’s voice drifted from between the trees, the soft tones catching him by surprise, almost causing him to fall into the water.

Day before yesterday I saw a rabbit.

As he swung his arms for balance, spinning himself around to look back toward the treeline, his eyes caught sight of a small brown rabbit. He watched the rabbit and in turn the rabbit watched him, before turning and scampering off, its fluffy white tail disappearing between the trees in just a few seconds.

And yesterday a deer.

His gaze still on the spot where the rabbit had disappeared from view, Lero saw a young stag, its horns still in early growth, step out from behind a tree. As the rabbit had before, the deer watched the human, tilting its head as if to ask a question. Then, like the rabbit again, it turned and disappeared off into the forest.

And today, you.

A strong gust pushed at the trees, moving the beam of light from the waterfall and onto Lero himself. More wind came, pushing and pulling at the leaves and branches. The mist filled spotlight moved from the human and onto the packed dirt by the water’s edge. From there it moved towards the treeline, its path erratic, jinking from left to right like a free-falling leaf on the breeze.

Moving after the light, Lero could see that it did not stop at the tree line, instead dancing its way along the forest floor and across the undergrowth. It was too fast for him to chase, but none-the-less he had seen the direction it was heading in and made his way after it as swiftly as he could.

It didn't take long before he had lost sight of the light, his target now indistinguishable from the rest of the shafts of light making their way through the tree tops to the ground below.

Resting for a moment, a hand against the side of a tree, he reached deep for breath. He had not been this tired after a quick run since he had first arrived in Equestria. As he caught his breath, the voice came to him again.

Lero, Lero, can you hear me?

He knew that voice... he was sure he knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it in so long, but he’d missed it so much.

“HELLO?” he shouted towards the trees, towards the fog and the empty air between his silent wooden audience.

The voice came again, just a bit stronger, just a bit closer.

Lero, can you hear me?

Resting no more, Lero stumbled towards the voice, staggering as he feet caught on fallen branches and tangled growth. He had to follow the voice, had to find her, had to see if he was right.

Over and over the voice came, always the same five words.

Lero, can you hear me?

It came from the left, it came from the right, but always it came from ahead of him.

Lero, can you hear me?

Gasping for air, he burst from the forest’s edge, the trees giving way to a large, flat grass verge. Slowing to a jog before stopping entirely, bent over, hands grasping his knees as his lungs screamed for oxygen, he found himself staring at the badly weathered asphalt at his feet.

Standing upright, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he found himself at the side of a wide, paved road. A large, official metal sign to his right declared that ‘Springfield’ was just twenty miles ahead, while a smaller sign painted onto a piece of ragged plywood ziptied to the signpost added that ‘Pop’s Diner’ was just five miles away.

Turning away from the signs, Lero peered back down the road as far as he could. The fog rolling in from the treeline meaning that it wasn’t that far, even though the road itself was straight as an arrow. Lifting a finger to point down the road away from the town of Springfield, he spoke, as much to break the creepy, unnatural silence as anything else.

“Old man Peabody’s place should be just down there.”

In the distance, just on the limits of visibility, he could see the break in the trees where the trail to the old farm fed out onto the road. The mist rolled around the large, hand-painted sign showing just the farm’s name and a picture of a single pine tree. As he watched, the fog enveloped even that, leaving nothing but trees.

Movement off to his side made him turn, a shadow creeping its way from the trees on the other side of the road, the darkness devouring the grass verge as it moved closer and closer to the pavement. Lero held a hand across his forehead, shading his eyes, as if it would make it any easier to see what was coming.

From within the shadow a shape took form; tall, thin... bipedal. It came closer, the hazy shape becoming clearer, more solid, more distinct. The shadow retreated, leaving the figure walking freely across the grass. As boots met asphalt, a sound reached Lero’s ear that he hadn’t heard coming from anyone else in quite some time... human footsteps.

Lero’s hand dropped from his brow as his brain tried to comprehend, to confirm what he was seeing. He hadn’t seen her in so long now.

Walking towards him - with that cocky, self assured stride she always had, that sway of the hips, that figure that had made girls wet and boys cry, or was it the other way around - was his older sister.

“Nausi!”

Logically he knew he was dreaming, knew that she could not be here... but it had been so long now, so very long. In all the years he had been gone, been here instead of there, she’d never visited his dreams before, never shown her face, never spoken his name.

Staggering forward, his feet not wanting to move, he reach out a hand towards her. She in turn, lifted her hands towards him, her fingers cupping his face as they met in the middle of the empty road.

She was exactly as he remembered; almost as tall as him, dark olive skin, green cat-like eyes, hair so much darker than his own but still with that tint of red when it caught the sun just so. She was wearing her rigging clothes; denim jeans and a close-fit flannel shirt, what she had called her ‘Lero clothes’ back when she’d first started working at the theatre. A handful of carabiners, a scattering of small tools and a pair of fingerless climbing gloves swung from her belt, she’d obviously not had time to go home and change.

Hands gripped at the side of his face as she pulled him closer, staring into one of his eyes, then the other. Her fingers, they felt so cold, slid under his chin and pressed against his neck, as if checking for a pulse.

“Lero...” she sounded worried, “Ronnie, can you hear me?”

Lero smiled. No one but her had ever called him that. When he was much, much younger he’d had trouble learning to pronounce his own name, usually ending up with something more like ‘Belly-Ear-Oh-Fa-Ron’ instead, and boy had his big sister never let him forget it. Everyone else had just settled for ‘Lero’, Nausi of course had to go with ‘Ronnie’, usually accompanied with a stuck-out tongue or a poke in the ribs.

“Ronnie, come on. Can you hear me?”

Lifting his hands, Lero curled his fingers around his sister’s wrists, as if to reassure her that he knew she was there.

“Yes, I can hear you, Nausi. You're right here with me.”

Blinking as if she’d just been given the most surprising news in the world, Nausi tilted her head quizzically.

“Here? Where is ‘here’?”

Turning his head, his sister’s hands falling from his neck, Lero motioned around them.

“Here. This ‘here’. Here ‘here’.”

Nausica stepped back, rocking on the heel of her boot.

“No, no. You’re not ‘here’, Lero, not this ‘here’, you're still in the hospital. All of this,” waving her hands in that way she always had, she indicated the road and the forest behind her, “and all that,” she turned her waving towards the treeline that Lero had come out from, ”that ‘Equestria’ bullshit, it’s not real. It’s not real at all, none of it, it’s just in your head. Please, come back to us.”

Ahhh, that was what he loved about his sister. She was so no-nonsense, direct and straight to the point, no candy-coating it, no-siree. No wonder Applejack had always reminded him of her... though, to be honest, Applejack swore a whole lot less. But that was Nausi all over; face of an angel, mouth of a sailor. She’d always tried to say it came with being the daughter of a navy man, but as dad hardly ever raised his voice, let alone used harsh language, the whole thi...

Hang on, what had she been saying about a hospital?

It took a couple of tries but finally Lero managed a...

“What?”

“What ‘what’?”

“‘Hospital’ what.”

“Yes, hospital. As in ‘hospital’ hospital. Ambulances, bright lights, doctors yelling ‘STAT’ a lot.”

“What?”

“Jesus, Lero!”

Grabbing his shirt, Nausi pulled him closer.

“Look, you've been in a coma for months now. Please, wake up. We miss you.”

She was so close now that Lero could feel her breath on his face. He hadn’t smelt Wrigley’s Spearmint in years.

“This life that you think you're living, it’s all made up, it’s make believe. It’s not real, just mental ramblings, wish fulfillment, wistful stories of a better life. There are no magical talking ponies, no dragons and griffins and fairies and all that shit. It’s all in your head. You really think you're the hero of this story? The centre of a harem of powerful, asskicking horsey women who’ve all thrown themselves at your feet? Come on, Ronnie, I know you're a nice guy - ya know, funny and smart and polite and all that - but really? You? That's just silly, Romeo.”

As she let go of his shirt, Lero felt himself sag slightly as his sister took a step back. Nausi hadn’t been able to lift him upwards since they were children.

“To be honest, I’m a little worried about you fantasising about sticking your dick in a bunch of farm animals, but I’m chalking that one up to how bounced around your brain got.”

“Bounced around?” Lero only managed to get that out because Nausi finally took a pause for breath. Some things never changed

“When the car hit you,” a pair of slender fingertips mimed something tumbling through the air. “You went right through their windshield, messed you up real good. Took the doctors fucking ages to get your arms stitched back together. Where do you think all the scars came from?”

Grabbing his wrists, Nausi lifted her brother’s arms so that he could see the the series of nasty looking scars that went all the way from his wrists to his elbows.

“That...“ Lero stuttered, those scars had healed a long time ago, and they hardly ever showed up whenever Twilight had changed him into a pony and his body managed to snap itself back into a previous form. How could they have come back now? “That was a workshop accident, years ago now.”

“And the burns?”

Nausi let go of Lero’s wrists and lifted a hand to behind his left ear. Lero’s hand followed, his fingertips running over freshly burnt skin, what little hair that was left on the left side of his head was curled and frazzled, his braid and its feather missing, burnt away. The smell of scorched hair and fur filled his nose.

“Another workshop accident. Applebloom took a while to get the hang of welding.”

Pulling Lero’s hands to her face, Nausi clasped her own around them, letting her forehead rest on top of their fingers.

“Please, Lero, listen to yourself for fuck’s sake. You're a grown man, you shouldn't be making up escapist fantasies about shagging unicorns and singing fucking songs and saving princesses and all that kind of childish shit.”

Some part of the back of Lero’s mind thought that maybe now was the time to bring up a few extra questions.

“Wait, how do you know all these things?”

Stepping back once more, Nausi threw up her hands, shouting to the sky with exasperation.

“Because I’m not fucking real either... I’m just your subconscious trying to tell you that all this, this life that you think is so important, is just make believe, that it’s all just some dream. I know what you know because right now I’m just in your head... same as all this.”

Stepping closer, she let the palms of her hands rest against Lero’s chest, her head fell forward, her forehead gently coming to rest against his own.

“Please, little brother, come home. We miss you, we just want you back.”

As Lero made to put his arms around his sister, to tell her... he wasn’t even sure what he was going to tell her... Nausicaa suddenly turned her head towards the forest, her brow furrowed, an expression of intense annoyance sweeping across her face.

“Oh great, she’s coming. Look, I’ve got to go. Just promise me one thing, okay, Ronnie. Think about what I’ve said. Look at your world and ask yourself what’s more likely; that you really are some kind of hero, living in a magical world of talking fucking ponies where they treat you like some kind of sex god, like some kind of fucking Gary Stu; or that you're just an ordinary guy, lying in a hospital somewhere, and all this is just a fantasy built around you.”

Before Lero could say anything, Nausi hugged him tightly - so tight that he could feel her heart beating against his chest, her face pressed against his neck chilling his skin - before pulling away.

“Come back to us. Please.”

Kissing his forehead, she turned and ran back towards the forest’s edge. As she reached the treeline it looked like the shadows from between the trees reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the darkness. Without a sound she vanished from view.

********************

As Lero stood at the edge of the road, staring at the forest just a few dozen feet away, a voice came from behind him.

“Lero, are you alright?”

A wingtip of the darkest indigo brushed against the human’s arm.

“I had quite the time breaking into your dreamscape this night. It was giving me such trouble. Are you troubled by something.”

Turning slowly, Lero found a six foot - not including the horn - alicorn standing in the middle of the road. She was wearing a pair of wicked looking sunglasses, made up of two large triangles of orange glass that seem to enjoy giving the laws of physics the middle finger as they balanced on her nose. Hanging from her shoulders was a large red cape sporting the image of a stylised blazing skull wearing it’s own pair of ludicrously awesome sunglasses, the cape’s ragged hem decorated with what looked like orange flames.

“No, I’m... I’m fine, thanks.” Lero stammered, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

Watching him carefully, Luna tilted her head. The glasses somehow stayed perched exactly where they were, gravity be damned.

“Anything you would like to to talk about?”

“No, not right now. But thanks.”

“Think nothing of it.” Luna smiled, a proper one, not a royal etiquette one. She always looked so much better when she smiled. “Know this, if you ever need me... to talk, or to listen, you know where to find me.”

“I know,” Lero returned the smile.

Turning back towards the forest, he took a good, long last look at the spot where Nausicaa had disappeared.

“But can I say the same about myself?”

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