My Little Poem

by MrAlbum321

Healing a Heart to Uncover Truth

When I woke up, I felt very hot and sweaty. The surrounding air was cold, which made me shiver like a hummingbird's wings. My left foreleg was pinned under something warm and heavy yet soft, and had gone numb from the pressure on the blood vessels. I wriggled my leg out from under the object, grimacing as the nerves screamed with that familiar tingly sensation. For some reason, I hadn't yet opened my eyes. The air smelled like a stall that hadn't been cleaned out in a while, but my nose wasn't offended by the scent.

Then the object that was on top of my leg moved, and I heard it breathe. I opened my eyes, to find myself next to Barbara, still asleep. Last night came rushing back to me. I felt myself blush when I remembered what the two of us did before falling asleep.

I looked around, but couldn't find a blanket nearby. I didn't want to just leave Barbara to freeze in this cave... and then I noticed how dark it was. I wondered if it was night time, since we couldn't have been too far from the entrance. The cave wasn't as big as I had originally thought. I remember that we had to ask Weasel and Asura to sleep outside, so that we could have some privacy.

"You hallucinated last night."

I didn't realize that Barbara was awake. She turned around and kissed me on the lips. "Did I pinch a shoulder?" she asked me.

I... remembered last night. She hadn't seen my face... but she must have felt my rhythm change.

I kissed her back. "It's alright," I said. "I remembered that what I saw wasn't real, that it was you I was with."

She frowned a little. "Then... what did you see?"

I sighed, and put my cheek against hers. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"It WAS her you saw."

I pushed her away, just a little, and turned my back to her. I didn't move further away, since I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid her questions for long.

"You saw her in my place."

"Mm-hm."

"While we were—"

"Yeah."

I heard her sigh. She put her forelegs around my shoulder as she cuddled up to me.

"I knew we couldn't avoid her," she whispered into my ear. "She really did a number on—"

"I... I just, I thought that if I—"

"Shhh," she cooed in my ear. "It's okay. Although, I think we should increase your therapy sessions to once a day when we get back home."

"If home is still there."

"Then when we get back to civilization."

I sighed, and felt tears getting squeezed out of my eyes. "Look, Barbara, I... I'm ashamed."

The tears began to drip down my face, and I couldn't stop them. I didn't want to dredge up the past, I didn't want to bring up what happened, I just wanted to move on, move forward, like Mom said, just find a way to keep going, don't stop—

"I don't want to deal with it; it's too painful. Sh-she manipulated me, m-made me believe that w-we were l-l-lovers—"

I stopped. I could hear my breath, but I couldn't move. No, that wasn't right; I WOULDN'T move. My words rushed back to me: I don't want to deal with it; it's too painful... I'm ashamed... I don't want to talk about it....

Is that truly what I want?

"I... how does anyone deal with pain that huge?" I said.

I didn't turn back around, and Barbara placed her face next to mine. The heat from her body was reassuring, but uncomfortable, since it made the surrounding air as cold as winter by comparison. I wondered where the blankets had disappeared to... and I remembered that I had placed them on the ground, to make up for the lack of a soft bed for our first time.

I jerked my brain out of its distracted musings. "She had total control over my physical interactions," I continued. "For a MONTH. Endless, unprotected debauchery that never let up. I couldn't even tell night from day; there were no windows. Just her... her groaning and... how she made my body feel."

"Didn't you say that the body feels whatever the heck it wants to feel, even if it's morally wrong?" she asked.

"The thought didn't occur to me at the time," I answered. "It was only when I was at a somewhat healthier emotional state a couple years later that I realized the truth of that fact."

I shivered a little, which Barbara must have noticed, because she tightened herself around me more than before. Did I shiver from the cold... or from remembering all of this stuff?

"She never spoke a word, and rarely looked me in the eye. In those rare times when I did see her eyes, I was surprised at how dead they seemed. Sure, some part of her was into it, but her eyes had no spark to them, not even a glimmer of insanity, like when she kidnapped me. It was like... it was like her... her assaults... were her job, and that she had to perform it or suffer, somehow."

My gut clenched when I remembered what the next part of this story would be. If my heart wasn't so strong from all the exercise my dad drilled into me at a young age, I swear I would be having a heart attack right now. I could only guess at Barbara's expression, which didn't stop my mind from imagining anything from kind and patient listening to disgusted and shocked horror.

"At some point later... I woke up, to find her asleep on top of me. I thought that, even though I was bound to a table and gagged, I could defy her just a little. I tried to shake her off of me so she would fall onto the floor; it was the only thing I could do. It didn't work, though; a couple of shakes was enough to wake her up. I remember staring into her eyes, with no idea what I should feel or how I should react.

"Then... she cried."

I closed my eyes, and remembered every detail on that mare's face; the masculine chin, the brown eyes with that fleck of green in the lower right corner of the iris, the lines in the pale fur that formed from her tears, how her entire face would shiver whenever she sobbed.

"Her tears led to an emotional wail that left me more confused than ever. It seemed to go on for hours; I had lost all track of time at this point. The worst part about seeing this... is that I felt sorry for her."

I clenched my legs into a fetal position, about ready to bite my lip to the point of blood.

"Yes. I felt SORRY for HER. Forget the fact that I was the VICTIM, some part of me just wanted to comfort her, or at least make her stop crying. I wanted to make that evil, cheating, twisted, insane might-as-well-be-escapee-from-Tartarus feel better.

"So... I nuzzled her. And betrayed you. I betrayed you, myself, the memory of my parents, and Princess Celestia and everyone else I knew or may ever know. In time, she let me go, and instead of trying to take advantage of that privilege, I obeyed her every—"

Barbara pushed me away. I tumbled away from her, and ended up face-to-face with a very angry face from Barbara.

So... this is it. She now knows what I went through. She knows how I let her down, and why I keep letting her down. I couldn't avoid it. Whatever she may have thought of me, that view is now shattered forever.

Barbara stood up, her eyes pinning me to the floor. I began to feel uneasy at the intensity of her gaze. I wanted to back away, run, but I couldn't look away from her gaze. I didn't even feel her hoof on the side of my face until she began to put a little weight on it. My fight-or-flight instinct roared to life and I started babbling:

"Barbara, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, you have every right, believe me, but at least please tell me why before you—"

"Pantrostic, when you get cut or hurt in some way, what do you do?" Barbara asked me.

"I, uh, I would probably bandage it—"

"Why?"

"So that it can heal?!"

She took her hoof off of my face, and knelt down in front of my eyes. Her face dominated my vision. Her face didn't seem so angry, just worried. I could only assume that my facial expression was one of abject terror.

"Exactly," she said. "You were hurt; I am surprised that your heart and the core of who you are wasn't destroyed by her. However... what did you do to help you heal?"

I didn't know how to process what had just happened. I shuffled backwards a little, unsure of what to do: keep talking to her, or run? Am I safe now, or was I ever in any danger? Why in all the Nine Hells of Tartarus did she try to hurt me?!

"What did you do to heal from your wounds?" she repeated.

"I... why the hell did—"

"I am mad at you... and I want to show you why. Best way is with an example—"

"That stupid 'example' makes me want to run away from you!"

I sat up, gently running my hooves over my face. There wasn't even an imprint from her hoof... but the sensation remained. My lungs chugged air in and out of my lungs as I struggled to gain some level of control, before I said or did anything that might turn this fiasco into something destructive.

"Y-you can't just smash your hoof into my face without some way to explain! Look, I love you, I really do, but that wasn't smart, I know you said you were angry at me, and I get that, maybe not why but I can guess, and... Wait... what have I done to heal?"

Barbara nodded, and I could see her start to cry.

Damnit, now I've made her cry, I thought. I bit my lip, and I crawled back over to her. I brought her into my embrace, and held her as tears went down her face. She struggled against me, and managed to squirm out of my grasp. I didn't understand why; she shouldn't be doing this, I'm just trying to comfort her, cheer her up, stop her tears, why—

Barbara stared me in the face, which silenced my mind.

"Pantrostic, this isn't something you can kiss to make better," she said. "You have such a giving heart, so willing to look beyond your own self to others, even when you're so utterly destroyed. But you can't help anybody when you can't help yourself."

She looked away, keeping her small, established distance. "You are sick in the heart," she continued. "To really show your love again, you need to work on clearing out the infection that mare forced upon you. And that's something you haven't done."

She looked at me again, and I saw a hint of the anger she had showed before. "You never tried to heal. You kept running, even though your legs were broken."

"It's not like I had much of a choice—"

"You always had a choice," she retorted. "You have a choice right now. I overheard you talking with Weasel; I know why we're in this mess we are in now. A mess you made for yourself, that you can't fix because you're too injured to deal with it. Why do I keep trying to take control of our family? Why do I keep bringing this stuff up? Why do I keep worrying about you? Because I want you to get better, and you won't if you don't make time for that!"

How dare she do that?! I don't care if she is my wife, she has no right to tell me what to do with my life when she doesn't even know how the hell I live it—

I bit my lip. Look, I thought to myself, I know she doesn't know what she's talking about. But you are not feeling well right now. You're upset, kinda crazy, and very, very confused. I need to stop as much as she does.

"Barbara... I know that I've hurt you, and kept you at leg's length," I said through clenched teeth. "I... I have been trying to heal, by putting a cast around the part that was broken."

I put my head on the floor, breathing, chest heaving, not looking her in the eye, and keeping my distance.

"Someday, I don't know when, I'll be able to take the cast off, and my heart won't hurt anymore," I said. "But until then, I need the distance. I need to be able to let my heart work through all this crap and put the broken pieces back together again."

"But your heart wasn't just broken," Barbara interrupted; "it was infected. She destroyed what it meant to love someone, what it meant to have a family. She, she took total advantage of you and manipulated you into feeling that love had happened, when the opposite was the truth. You hate her. You hate everything she stands for, everything she represents, whatever that may be. How can a cast clear an infection?! You need medicine, now, before it corrupts you into something you are not!"

The more I thought about what she said, the more it made sense. The hallucinations, the outbursts, the constant lack of energy. I didn't think to blame anything else on it, because I was always worried about everyone else, rarely about myself. I didn't reach out for help, and received none in return.

Careful now, I thought, I am really upset right now. I could easily take this revelation too far, and start blaming the mare who raped me for every problem in my life.

I sat back up, and looked Barbara in the eye again. "So, what do I do? What's the medicine?" I asked.

"Talking about what bothers you without me prying it out of your shut-in personality would be a good start," she responded. "Knowing when to outright say 'I've been through some soul-crushing personal crap that makes it hard for me to do X or Y at this time' would be outstanding. If not that, then letting others do something rather than trying to do everything yourself is a good substitute."

I took a very deep breath and closed my eyes as I contemplated what she was asking of me. When I opened them, I knew what I needed to say.

"I'm not perfect," I began; "it'll take time for me to recover, to do the things you're asking of me. But I will try, and I will listen in case you see me slipping. You're right, I can't do this alone. I tried to heal myself, because it didn't seem fair for me to push my problems on others, causing more work for everyone around me as a result. My life is my own, so my problems should be my own as well, right? But that doesn't work when my problems start affecting others, which is something that I've been blind to lately."

I stood up, and walked back over to the bed. I didn't look at Barbara. I re-arranged the blankets to smooth out some of the wrinkles and rough spots, and laid back down.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with my crap, and thank you for helping me realize how out-of-whack I was. I have a long way to go before I am worthy to be your husband, much less the father of your children... but I'm not going to give up."

Barbara laid down next to me, held me close and kissed me.

"Every day," she whispered in a quiet voice, "I thank Celestia that you're in my life, that you think so highly of me, and that you want so many good things for me. Celestia actually told me: 'If Pantrostic ever disappoints you or makes you cry, give him time. He'll find a way to make it up to you.'" She cried as she put her head near mine, her breath loud in my ear. "Every day, I see her wisdom in saying that."

"I want you to promise me something," she continued: "if you ever see me get impatient, or jumping to some kind of conclusion, please stay calm. Give me some time too. Help me as much as I help you."

I turned around, and kissed her. "I promise. Always."

As the night wore on and we began to tire, I half-expected to hallucinate again. Some part of me held its breath, knowing that my mental state was weak enough for anything to happen. When I saw sunlight streaming from the cave entrance without seeing a single transformation in Barbara's appearance, I began to wonder if there wasn't some other action that triggered the hallucination the first time.

I sat there, my legs around Barbara as she slept, and mentally compared our first and second mating, trying to find anything different about either experience, to try and explain why I hallucinated the first time and not the second. We were in the same general space, in very similar positions, had the same time between our climaxes, kissed the same areas of our faces... why'd she turn into that psycho the first time, and not the second?

My thoughts were interrupted when I looked up to see a Changeling staring at me. Its dark green carapace was framed in the light streaming from the entrance to the cave. It simply stood there, and stared at Barbara and I. My left shoulder felt fine; it wasn't numb or pinched. This meant that the Changeling was real, and wasn't a hallucination.

I glanced around the cave, always bringing my eyes back to the insectoid in front of me. My glances did not reveal more Changelings inside the cave, although that did not reassure me. If there were more, they would likely have blended into the wall as the best disguise.

Wait... can Changelings imitate objects? I thought. They can copy the appearance and sound of a pony, but could they copy the rock of the cave?

I slipped out from under Barbara, who still slumbered. As I stood up, I kept my eyes on the Changeling. It did not blink, nor did it seem to react to my movement. I took a few steps forward, knowing that anything could set off a fight... or worse. Still the Changeling did not move.

The Changeling opened its mouth. I stopped, bracing myself for some kind of bite. Instead, it spoke in a voice that I recognized, with an added rasp that made me shiver:

"I am sorry for the deception... but it had to be done."

Who had come to my family's rescue back in Canterlot? Weasel.

Who had promised us a place of safety? Weasel.

Who had led us deep into the heart of the Everfree Forest? Weasel.

Who was hesitant to leave isolation? Weasel.

How many legs did this Changeling have? Three.

"Weasel... what did you do to Asura?" I asked, a sense of despair creeping on my mind.

"I did nothing," Weasel stated. "The Forest will change him when you and your wife are gone."

Weasel lunged forward and slammed into me, the only noise being the brief thrum of her Changeling wings and the thud as she pinned me to the floor. Before I could react, I felt Weasel's teeth bite into my neck.

My entire body went limp as the bite broke my skin. The Changeling's bite injects a paralysis agent into the body around the area of the bite, preventing them from struggling against the attack. Since she had bitten my neck, my spine had been paralyzed. My breathing nearly stopped as my brain struggled to get a nervous signal around the paralyzed area.

Then came the Un-Feeling. Every Changeling bite feeds off not just the body, but also the soul. Many victims expressed an incapacity to feel any emotion, instinct included. The condition became described as the "Un-Feeling," since those who experience it are unable to determine their emotional state for a period of time: they literally cannot tell if they are happy, sad, shocked or more. Recovery is possible, but always lengthy.

Unlike the paralysis, the Un-Feeling could be resisted to a certain degree. A few claimed to be immune to it, although this has never been proven. As such, I knew that the Un-Feeling had advanced through me quite a bit, because my mind had gone into detail describing this sensation in a logical and emotionless manner despite the fact that my survival instinct should have repressed all rational thought due to the fact that I was on the verge of death.

As I lay on the ground, most likely dying from the paralysis agent, I remembered what happened when Asura had showed up on my doorstep, many years ago. I had almost abandoned him, closed the door to the basket that held him. I was about to call for the Patrol to come pick him up, when I noticed a green glow coming from the door. Paranoid about shenanigans involving Venusia coming back and wrecking my life again, I almost ran under the table to hide. Then, I heard Asura's wail.

My worry over the child overcame my fear of Venusia. I rushed to the door and opened it. I grabbed the basket and rushed back inside before I could see what was happening outside. When I looked in the basket to make sure the foal was alright, I found him in a state I could not adequately describe at the time.

The world around me dimmed a little as my brain struggled to continue remembering my first meeting with Asura. I could tell the paralysis was spreading, and that I had at least a minute, if not more, of consciousness. I decided to try and summarize the remainder of that event as best I could, because I needed to reach the conclusion I knew I would infer from remembering this event.

Asura was in the middle of transforming into a Changeling. At the time I did not know what a Changeling was, but hindsight is enlightening. Half his body was consumed with the dark green chitin characteristic of the Changeling, while the other half remained Asura's normal self. He screamed at me, and somehow I inferred that he was screaming for me to help him.

So I tried to use my magic to reverse the transformation. The transformation reversed before I could do anything, however. Asura continued to scream; I took him in my embrace, changed and fed him as best I could, then laid him down for a nap. I saw, as I cared for him, the little green fleck in his eye that reminded me so much of Venusia. I had put two and two together: Asura was my son, Venusia his mother.

So... what did I learn from that encounter? I thought. I struggled to find a way to express the answer; the world around me became more fuzzy, signaling that I was about to pass out. Weasel put her weight on my chest, forcing the air out of my lungs. I couldn't stop her due to my paralyzed spine. As that last breath wheezed out from me, I used that air to whisper:

"To cure the Changeling state is to care for and love the Changeling as the Pony they really are."

The Un-Feeling stopped its advance. Weasel withdrew from my neck, her Changeling mouth dripping with blood. Changelings are not blood-suckers, but the bite can be quite messy despite its usual non-lethal nature. I knew my jugular hadn't been torn out due to that logic; Changelings kill their victim through a prolonged bite, not a quick or merciful strike.

Without the continued injection of the paralysis agent, feeling began to return to my neck. It receded enough for my spine to regain some level of functionality. My body shivered as blood began to pump and the lungs gasped for air. Weasel stared at me as the world warped and waved in front of my eyes.

I tried to stand up, and regretted that effort as I vomited onto the floor... or at least, I thought it was the floor. Everything was topsy-turvy: left was up and so was down, and every direction seemed to change on me from instant to instant. Simply trying to focus my eyes was an effort-and-a-half, but I knew that I wanted to stand up.

I managed to roll onto my belly. I snaked one leg of mine, then another, under me and heaved myself upright. My brain thought the floor was a wall, which made me trip and fall down. If I had not emptied my stomach before, it would surely have emptied now. That did not stop it from heaving again, although nothing was left to evacuate.

I tried to focus my eyes on Weasel again, but the world was still a swirling kaleidoscope of sunlight, some dark green color and the gray of stone. Every part of my body ached, my neck burned like fire, my mind had lost all sense of physical space, but I knew I needed to speak. I had to talk to Weasel, it was more important than resting, I knew I could push myself to talk if I could just muster the concentration to do so, My mind even yelled at myself: Come ON, you son-of-a-mule! Get your throat in gear and say what you need to say!

I closed my eyes, stayed on the floor, and didn't try to get up again. By not exerting my leg muscles, I managed to give myself a couple of seconds to catch my breath. After a few seconds, something grabbed my shoulders and lifted me into the air.

"I should not have let you go," Weasel growled at me. I could feel her breath on my face. "You're unconscious now, and useless to me."

I took a deep breath, and said:

"Wh-what's you're f-f-first m-mem-mory?"

"Why do you want to know?" Weasel hissed. "There's nothing you can do!"

"A-as-sura al-lm-most became one of y-you—"

Weasel's breath paused when she figured out what I said in my stuttering speech.

"I... I kn-know... what y-you've been th-through...."

I was dropped. I didn't try to stop my body from slumping to the ground. I had to keep speaking; my eyes were still closed, but I could feel myself beginning to lose some energy.

"S-sorry, I... know in general wh-what happened, b-but no det-tails.... Sorry f-for—"

I heard the sound of Weasel crying. I felt bad for dredging up what must be a painful memory for her, but she needed to know that I understand. She needs to know that a part of me cares.

I gritted my teeth, and lifted my left foreleg in the general direction of Weasel's voice. My hoof made contact with what felt like her shoulder, so I rested my leg there. I was surprised that she didn't try to brush my leg aside. After taking a few more seconds to catch my breath, I summoned the last bit of strength I had, and said:

"Go ahead... if y-you're hung-gry, eat... eat y-your f-fill...."

I did not remember what happened next. I had passed out.

I woke in a kaleidoscope of colors. The dream was familiar to me; it is this reoccurring dream where I am tumbling over and over, never touching the rotating walls, ceiling and floor of colorful light, but never caring that I could not touch the ground. I often dreamed this when I was in very deep sleep, on the cusp of the dreamless state needed so much for my body's rest.

This time, the dream changed. The walls began to move inwards, shortening the space I floated in. I did not feel panic as the walls moved in. Some part of me was aware that this was a dream, that nothing here could hurt me.

The walls ceased their encroachment inches from my eyes, then rotated around the axis of my line of sight. My dream body's brain felt dizzy from the pinwheel of colors that stayed in front of my eyes, no matter where I looked. Left, right, up, down, didn't matter; the rainbow vortex kept pace with my head no matter how fast I moved it.

I decided to wait and see what would come of this new development. I closed my dream-state's eyes, took a deep breath, and simply floated.

A very long time passed in utter dreamy silence.

I woke to find Weasel's Changeling body not far from mine. My head pounded, my neck ached. Was it still bleeding? I thought, as I touched a hoof up to it. The wound is still open from what I'm feeling there, but at least it's not bleeding too bad... I think.

I heaved my body forward, not wanting to try and stand and trigger a dizzy spell or another up-chucked stomach. I crawled alongside Weasel to try and get a look at her face. I could only assume that she's asleep or—

I almost screamed in fright. Her Changeling eyes were wide open, and clouded over. Her mouth seemed frozen, the tongue slid awkwardly to the side, its tip resting on the stone floor of the cave. To all appearances, she seemed dead.

Dear Sweet Celestia, what have I done?! I killed her!

I bowed my head, unable to believe what I saw in front of me. It doesn't make sense! The transformation should reverse, not cause mortality! This can't be happening, m-maybe my theory was incorrect, maybe adult Changelings are irreversible, could I have missed something, anything?!

Weasel's body twitched, around her midsection. I could hear strange, muffled sounds coming from her belly, almost like—

"Waaaaah!"

C-could it be?!

I shuffled over to the sound of a foal's wail, which emanated from Weasel's belly. I had to turn her body over so I could get a better look. Her body began to splinter, the shards of her chitinous body crumbling to dust. Seeing this, I frantically tugged at her midsection, hoping that I could free whatever was inside her with little fuss or fanfare.

The belly ripped open and dissolved as I shoved my hooves in, trying to find the source of the wail that I knew I heard. After panicking by finding more disintegrating pieces of Weasel's Changeling body, I found the piece that stayed solid and I wrapped my hooves around it.

I pulled it out, and there it was. A foal, with Weasel's dark orange coat and her signature missing foreleg. The thought had not occurred to me that Weasel's missing leg may have been a birth defect; I had assumed that Weasel had lost it due to some tragedy or accident, or maybe even a tragic accident. It wailed pitifully, begging me to help it like Asura did when he showed up at my door all those years ago.

I picked it—no, her—up, and stared at her, my heart feeling all a-flutter as I sat up. I cradled her in my legs, rocking her gently. I cooed at her, soft and low, every emotion on overdrive in my mind as the reality of the situation dawned on me:

Our guide just transformed into a foal who can't speak. Thus, our family is now lost in the Everfree Forest because of what I did.

The foal began to root, a common action where the baby seeks the mother's nipple for a meal of milk. It distracted me from my thoughts as a shadow passed over the front of the cave. I looked up to see Asura, who stared at me, his face doing little to hide his confusion.

"Pantrostic, what in all the Nine Hells of Tartarus is this?"

I turned around to see Barbara, her face both furious and scared. I must have looked a sight: a torn-up neck, a disintegrating and fading corpse in front of me, and now she could see the foal cradled in my grasp. I could think of no words to speak, and I hoped that the scene in front of her was enough to show what had happened.

Barbara’s face did not change. She walked up to me, her eyes switching focus from my face to the foal. She sat down, lifted the foal from my hooves, and placed it near one of her nipples. The foal instinctively latched on and sucked with all its might. Barbara’s facial expression did not change as she did this, and I did not resist her intrusion into our space.

“Asura,” Barbara said, her voice deadpan, “get some bandages, water and hydrogen peroxide from the supplies.”

My eyes followed Asura as he walked past us into the rear portion of the cave, and came back with the materials balanced on his head. He put them down one by one at my side, and looked at Barbara. She nodded at him.

Asura put a hoof against my shoulder, and spoke to me: “Dad, please lay down so I can clean up your neck.”

I lay down as he requested. I knew that my windpipe and my jugular vein had not been broken. With some deft hoof-work, Asura had soaked a cloth in the hydrogen peroxide, and began to clean away the blood from around the neck wound. My body couldn’t help but twitch whenever the cloth made contact with the bite mark, the hydrogen peroxide making those sections sting.

Asura set down the cloth, then looked at me. He said: “Dad, you may want to bite your hoof. This is gonna hurt.” Asura lifted up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his hooves, balancing expertly on his hind legs. I closed my eyes, and waited for the stinging to start.

When the first splash hit, it felt like my neck was being attacked by a swarm of bees. I knew what being stung by a swarm of those insects felt like due to not wearing proper protection as I went to interview a honey maker. I would have screamed, if my teeth had not ground shut from steeling myself for the pain and I wasn’t weak from Weasel’s bite. Asura poured a few more drops as I did my best to not curl around the wound to try and keep it from stinging again.

There were a few more splashes that did not sting; probably the water that Barbara had told Asura to get. My eyes were still closed as I felt a cloth drying out the wound and the area around it. A few bandage wraps later, and Asura tapped me on the shoulder.

“You can get up now, Dad. It’s done,” Asura said.

As I sat up, I opened my eyes. Barbara had looked away, the foal still sucking madly at Barbara’s nipple, desperate for food and attention. I looked away; I did not want to stare at Barbara, and instead turned to face the cave’s entrance. One thought ran through my head, which kept my mind focused on my surroundings and my brain working as fast as it could to try and answer it:

How in the bloody hell do we get out of this situation?

I closed my eyes, the familiar desire to simply not deal with the problem right now threatening to put me to sleep. I had to stay awake, though, I knew I had to, I needed to help get us all to safety—

“Pantrostic, rest,” Barbara said. “You’ve done enough already.”

I opened my eyes, tired enough to lay back down and take Barbara’s advice. I did not miss the clear anger in her voice. I couldn’t blame her; after all my talk last night at not throwing myself into danger, here I was, sacrificing my life yet again when there may have been a different option. As if I had the time to figure out what that option was, I thought. That doesn’t mean she’s wrong, but neither was I, I guess.

I sighed, and laid down, my eyes still looking out the cave entrance towards the blue sky. I saw a rainbow, which cheered my spirits somewhat—

There was something strange about the rainbow. From where I was, it looked straight as an arrow as it grew across the sky. All rainbows, whether they be sun-dogs or sprouting from the clouds, are curved in nature, and no rainbow grows or shrinks in a linear fashion; they fade in and out of the visible spectrum, never looking like the contrail of a passing Pegasi weather team. Everything about this rainbow sparked a memory in my mind that I never expected it to trigger, but it gave me a small bit of hope.

I heaved myself up, and nearly toppled over from a dizzy spell. Asura and Barbara jumped at my movement, but I ignored them. I lunged out the cave entrance, my eyes smarting as they adjusted to the bright afternoon after all that time spent in the cave. I looked up at the sky again, and my hopes soared in recognition at what I saw.

“Barbara, bring the foal out here!” I shouted back into the cave. “Asura, help her! Get out here NOW!”

I walked into the clearing at the entrance to the cave and stared up at the sky when I realized that I had no way to signal the distant dot at the tip of the rainbow. Barbara stumbled out, the foal tucked under one leg as she hobbled on the other, leaning against Asura for support.

I gotta make a signal somehow, and fast! I thought. “Barbara, do we have any flares, any way to signal the sky?”

“Pantrostic, what the hell has—“

“Do we have signal flares?!”

“Er, not that I saw—“

“DAMMIT!”

I pointed up at the sky with my left leg, doing my best to keep it steady. “What celebrity Pegasus do we know that can create a rainbow out of thin air?!”

Both of them looked to the sky. Asura’s face was furrowed in thought as he tried to think about my question, while Barbara’s eyes went wide with shock as the nature of the answer registered in her mind.

“W-we could make a fire, or something—“ Barbara stammered, glancing around the clearing, her eyes darting in panic.

“That’d take too long, she’ll speed over us before we get so much as a wisp of smoke!” I interrupted.

If only I could use my magic, I could shoot some alchemical lights into the air with a sparkling trail, like the fireworks manager at that traveling company of performers taught me! But my magic has not been reliable lately, and I doubt the adrenaline from my panic would allow me to—

Give it a try anyway, another part of my mind thought. It won’t hurt anybody, and it could save all our lives right now.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down as I remembered the basic fireworks spell that I was taught. I closed my eyes, doing what I could to focus my mind inward, to find that inner fire of life that every creature had.

An inferno of emotions greeted me the moment I looked inward. They shouted all my doubts, fears, and nightmares at me wherever I looked. Nowhere was the blaze a controlled flow of magical energy; it burned with a passion that I didn’t fully understand.

I don’t have time to be picky! I thought as I grabbed the closest set of emotions and pulled them into a mental place that represented the physical space of my horn. The moment I pulled one, the rest tried to follow suit. I had to exert my focus to stem the flames before they spiraled out of control. I could feel my mental state shake with the effort, but I had to continue with the spell.

The emotional fire was unruly; I didn’t have time to smooth its eccentricities away as I worked within that mental space to create a transparent barrier around the fire. Once the barrier had finally managed to fully surround the flames, I opened my eyes to sense my handiwork.

My body shivered as my horn pulses with a fiery red glow. I knew that if I didn’t release the energy now, it would explode in my face, possibly breaking my horn and crippling what little channeling ability I had. I furrowed my brow as I forced the energy out of my horn and into the physical world. The amorphous blob of crimson white fire wriggled and tugged, before it finally squirted out my horn tip.

All my concentration and focus was on the blob of energy. There was one last step to complete the spell. I hope that the unpredictability of the magic doesn’t send the Element of Loyalty to the wrong target, I thought as I approached the now-floating blob.

I poked the underside of the floating blob with the tip of my horn.

The barrier that I had created burst, sending the energy screaming into the air with a high-pitched whistle. My heart soared as the energy flew straight and true, with only a couple slight twists left or right, and was ecstatic that the energy left a sparkling trail that led right to the clearing where Barbara, Asura, the foal and I were. I waited with bated breath for the final part of the firework spell to trigger.

Then I remember what the fireworks manager had told me: ”Do not try the spell whenever you are in an emotionally vulnerable state, or else you risk blowing out the eardrums of every pony in the audience.”

I sincerely hoped I had not screwed up.

I put my hooves in my ears at just the right time when the remaining ball of energy exploded into the sky, sending flaming streamers of light everywhere and a BANG that startled my already panic-strained nerves. I collapsed to the ground, wanting to stay put and wait for the panic and the emotion to pass as it gripped me.

I found myself repeating the phrase “Please see us please see us” to myself over and over again, as if my pleas would somehow twist fate. Within seconds, a technicolored blaze of light plummeted from the sky and landed right next to Barbara and I. Half-expecting a pot of gold and a leprechaun, and half-expecting the savior I hoped had created the rainbow, I looked up.

I was not disappointed.

It was the same Pegasus that created the victory rainbow over Canterlot after the Changeling Invasion several years ago. Her rainbow mane and tail and sky blue coat and feathers were iconic in ways modern day poets struggled to give due justice. Famous for performing the Sonic Rainboom when just a foal: The Element of Loyalty: it was Rainbow Dash.

She glanced at all of us and seemed to recognize the impact her presence had on everyone in the clearing. Her face grinning with confidence, she said, “Don’t worry folks, I’ll get you all to safety!”

She tapped something inside her ear and said, “Twilight, I found them! There’s four total, and one of them’s really hurt, so get everyone ready for some serious first-aid!”

I began to cry. It worked. It really worked. I didn’t screw up. We’re saved. The ever-worsening nightmare has finally passed—

I must have blinked, although instead of the dull red glow that people see when they close their eyes in sunlight, the glow was neon purple. The cave had disappeared, replaced by a simple campsite in the middle of a run-down cobblestone courtyard. Beige, unmarked tents were placed in the courtyard as well. I glanced around to see that Rainbow Dash, Barbara, Asura and the foal were with us as well.

Twilight Sparkle, a purple magical glow fading from her horn, stood in front of one of the tents. Her concern was evident in her face the moment she opened her eyes to see me in bandages. Several other ponies rushed out of the tents, three of them in the lead.

I no longer cared what was around me. The last thought that ran through my head as I closed my eyes was: I can rest now.

I fell asleep.

Author's Note:

While I did present the scene that starts this chapter in a non-explicit manner, I know that it has the characters talk about some serious adult themes. None of it is described in detail, although if there are enough folks saying that what I wrote belongs in mature and not teen, then I will switch the story over to "Mature" so that my I's are dotted and my T's are crossed. Let me know either by PM or in the comments below what you think of this.

Comments

[paul]

Thank you for the story :)
It's a bit puzzling from the start, but when you read more it clicks :)

Btw your most dangerous game entry is really good also :) I found this story thanks to it.

[MrAlbum321]

4616247

Thanks for enjoying both my stories!

I know that it takes a chapter or two to really click, since the story has been worked on over the past two years. The first chapter used to be MORE dense and hard to get through, would you believe it I'm still trucking along, writing when I can and when I have time.

Sincerely,

Mr. Album