Friendships flourishes even with nothing to tell you why. Three beings sit in a dark room, telling stories of the past. Friends in a way. But are they telling the truth, lying to look better, or avoiding the reveal of secrets better kept hidden.
A new land is discovered outside of the Equestrian borders, outside of their map. And for the first time in decades, Equestria had nothing directly related to it. The now United Nation of Griffdom, which discovered the land, had found themselves with something they need to share. So much so that they will go against their own beliefs and pride. And ally themselves to Equestria.
But the day it all comes together, the exchange and the signing of treaties, isn’t well received. What appeared to be an insurgency of a new species attacks Canterlot Castle where the meeting takes place, and the kings and queens of Griffdom don’t survive the encounter.
Equestria finds itself in a difficult standing. A nation with no leaders is slowly eating itself and its crazed eyes are blaming Equestria, while those that begun the horror are still on the loose, and the discovery from outside Equestrian borders wants to come and greet their newly discovered neighbors, but they have their own reasons.
But none is to worry. It’s all in the plan. The plan of the one and only.
Nothing is left unchecked. No one is left to go against the plan without the consent of the one and only.
Three peons had an opportunity to intervene, and were brought down. The princess, the assistant, and the stranger, who's strangely still on the loose.
Now what happens to the peons once the one obtains their unconditional loyalty? Nothing. In the end, if they're ever to meet, all they can do is tell stories. And wait for an end they are not sure will come.
“Why do people constantly repeat that my research is against what’s ‘sacred’ or it’s a ‘taboo’? We are nothing more than chemical processes that work like clockwork to the code that I base my work upon. Why do people deny that they are nothing more than a tool? Is it because it reminds them of their mortality? Bah! It doesn’t matter, those people are chained, but I am free. Free to take control. A tool to make things as they should be.”
--Head researcher Laura Minerva. “The future.”
A story which will take on Ancient Humans, with built on social logic, and attempting on world building and future politics, which by default includes: Language barriers, ideologies of relationships, ideologies of ways of rule, numb inducing illogical hate, what is to be alive, and if you are not unique do you matter?
Action scenes are a must have, but it shall develop in between; norms and the 'common knowledge' is my goal to show.
Characters will be added as chapters with them are added. As well as tags.
I don't own My Little Pony Frienship is Magic, or anything related to it. I do own the cover art though.
The gore's not REALLY gore, but things that might freak some people out.
This is a re-written verson, or if there's no chapter's it's still on its re-write. They all shall be released at the same time once done as well as a fixed image. It will be the same story. The way to tell however will be different.
“Alone. Yes, that's the word, the most horrible expression in the tongue of anything that can speak. Murder doesn't hold its hype and Tartarus is only a poor synonym. But those turned to loneliness in the valley of the damned are not to be feared, but are to fear me, for I am the craziest and loneliest motherfucker in the valley."
Where to begin, where to begin... maybe? No... Actually! Nah... Well, uh... huh. Te-heh.
What to tell?
Hmm, why don’t you decide? There’s many to choose from actually, so which would you like to talk about? Fried? Scrambled? Hard-boiled? You can choose whichever you like, minds are flexible like that.
What, you find this weird? Weird how? Weird?! I was weird once... They put me in a little white room. I died in that room. Waiting for a long time doing nothing. Nothing? Why didn’t you just have fun?—Have fun? Having fun with nothing is just weird— weird?! I was weird once...
Wait, I needed to do something...
Oh right!
What? Am I making you uncomfortable? A little of a tickle to your awkward stick? Not that stick. Yes that one. No, the other one. The right one, your other right. Got ya! There’s no stick. It was a stone. Te-heh.
Alright I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just having fun I didn’t want to... do... what was I doing again?
Oh right!
Would you like to hear a story? Of course you do. You can’t survive without one of my stories. Te-heh Or can you?—No you can’t—or can you? Te-heh. Wow, I just experienced a loop there. That was awesome! Wait. That sounds weird. Way too weird... yeah.
Weird.
What do you think of voids? Total desolation? Hollowness? Madness? Being truly alone? Ice cream?
Well, everyone should know that no matter how you say it, those words... there’s no way to give what they mean justice. To what they show by their foul formation of letters. How easy it’s for them to say something so scary, so horrifying... so much more worse than death and a brain freeze...
What was I doing again?
Oh right!
No, wait, I--uhhhh was talking about the most independent person in the world... no, the most full of potential student the world had ever seen? Nah, the bravest child to be born! Pfft-as if, it was obviously about the eldest elder alive... I think?
Darn this is hard! Oh! Wait! Wait! I remember!
The pit none will ever want to fall into! Of course! Success!
But to see what I'm talking about, I need to be down pat into your experience pool. So to launch this little rocket of joy, let’s begin by imagining a doll, like a little puppet, you know? With small legs, and rear legs, nice ragged mane and tail, amazing complexion, and buttons for eyes. Just a great companion— I mean, example to use. But don’t be confused ladies and gentlecolts, we’re just going to use our little cutie here as an example, so please remain calm, don’t try this at the park, at home it’s fine. And please do not imagine yourself or anyone that is constantly talking to you as said puppet.
Professionals only. Te-heh.
So now, think that our little doll here was going about its way. Doing what it does. Writing a book—making a spell—test driving a machine—taking up for an impossible challenge, you know, puppet stuff. Take your pick.
But then, at some point on the inventive event, our pretend fella poofs out of it, and splatters in a unique white room. No explanation, no building up, just poof.
This is a room of glowing white walls, floor and ceiling you wouldn't ever want in contact with granola juice. So potently clean that the smell of sterilization can make those with sensitive noses dizzy. So bright that if somepony tried to make mild delight out of the light, it would produce the worst shadow figures you could ever conceive. It’s hard to enjoy hoof shadows when you can only make hoofs.
So with luck, our doll should easily remember the last thing it was doing that we chose for it, it was like just happening before, right? Having a serious life-changing talk with its pretend mentor, or checking if the pretend project it made works. All that imagined jazz.
Inside this room our friend should spot all its particularities, unless of course it’s deprived of any of its senses— I mean, how much does it cost to suture a eye button, huh? Or adding extra fluff after a year or two? It wouldn't take time out of my schedule that's for sure. So in perfect state to see itself it should draw little effort to straining and see the rest of the white around it. Like what it’s wearing, how it looks, etcetera. Finding a surprise or two is common, since now that it’s thinking of something different, therefore, it shouldn't remember that last memory pointed out not a moment ago.
Ha ha ha, no, our marionette wasn't expecting that, no alcohol involved remember? It was trying to quit~ Or has it actually taken anything intoxicating in like, you know, ever?
Wait, what was I doing?
Oh right!
Yeah, our little buddy is going to be nervous wreak from the lack of memory. Every second passed the memory became blurrier, as if thinking about it made it thicker to go around that squishy brain of hers— of our puppet.
But if this little pal is not contemplating on that tartarus building up in its head, it should be gawking at itself in surprise. Something new it knows it shouldn’t have greets it with a vengeance. Or forgot, it’s forgetting time after all. But obviously like anyone in this situation, it voices its thoughts of the situation. Normally cursing.
Right then, like if it was waiting to be foreshadowed like a ghost in a story, our chum feels a numbness on its legs. In a quick downward glance it sees the room is now filling with water, but not any water, a dark slimy-unsettling disgusting fluid sticking into anything it touches. Now that being our tiny figure's legs.
No matter what it tries to do, this water rises to its knees, and before it can yelp in surprise the wetness comes to its neck in an instant, water seeming to fill the sides of the room first before covering our friend completely, as if being inserted into an ominous black bowl. Trying to swim doesn’t help, it’s gooier than anything else it has bathed in before, and you know what kinds of things it has bathed on. But well, thoughts may turn one side or the other depending on our little doll’s will to survive. Many would be too stunned to do anything about it, others would just go with the flow and give in to fate and die; less would fight, kick and yell bloody murder till the bitter end.
The water overcomes our doll’s size, surrounding the walls and ceiling until it's just a small dot above that shows the existence of the previous white room, but now with a dim red glow. And right then the water seemed to finally decide to drown our doll as it fills the space it's in. By reaction our little friend inhales deeply, taking one last gulp of air. And eventually the bubble it was in fills to the brim, and now dolly is inside, not able to swim around, with no escape. All it can do is hold its breath as long as it can. And hope for the best. Like if it was so lucky.
Our little girl holds that last whiff of air like the most important, and glorious oxygen ever breathed. Life flashing before her strained button eyes as the precious life-giving bubbles leave her stitched muzzle, which become harder to keep contained; all those flinching last regrets rising to her inside vision as she can’t understand why this had ever happened to begin with.
Until that last second, wishing to be saved by some miracle. Telling herself that all her years of experiences and events will not come down to this unknown and almost uneventful depressing end. Her lungs burned as if on fire; she couldn’t keep her last air anymore, and with a heavy heart and a curse or two, she left it go. And with it, her life.
As a result, like in the bottom of the ocean after an explosion, the dark liquid collapses into her.
Only to find that she is, in a literal sense, inhaling this water; gulping it like air. It numbs her throat, flooding her lungs and chest dulling everything inside. But she couldn’t care less at this point, wheezing out of lacking breath is always better than gargling in agony and death. At the end of it with a face pale and recovering its natural color, as the panicked eyes gradually vanish, she smiles. Maybe even giggle from the scare.
So, after relief finally reaches the psyche, she questions her current pickle, or curse on how overwhelming the experience was, take your pick. In any manner, she will without actually thinking of it, see peculiarities of the water.
The inhaling comes first, it’s a weird feeling, like drinking water and breathing at the same time. One would think that it would take time to adjust, but it leaves in an instant, the numb making it impossible to continue exploring the new feeling. It’s like it had no temperature, adding no resistance when moving— which one would expected from the previous gooiness, killing the sense of touch, vowing that even if the walls and floor are found, she would never feel them.
Then it’s easy to see that the light from before doesn’t reach inside. No smell can travel. And when trying to make a noise, any sound, it can’t be heard. It isn’t long before there’s no true way to know which way is up, as the water removed the perception of gravity pulling down, like placing one in perfect balance inside.
With this in mind, the experience differs from being relaxing, to terrifying. Oh goody. So how would it affect our doll? What would she think? If she felt a heat wave, would she wave back?
But I don’t need to listen to your answer, so let me go and suggest that she may have been confused. And when it comes to being scared, let’s say she was not. But when it comes to having no idea what’s going on and believe it’s something else? Only the “it’s something else” mind-set that has many fun and fascinating stuff to watch... like a cranked up toy.
In the first day the beginning is calm, the pressure from the constant sensation of every second; every day, was released for maybe the first time ever. Maybe thinking the arriving here was for self-purposes, since nothing before can be recalled. But in the end, there’s no distractions, no irritation, otherwise productive for stress relief in tranquility.
But of course, this doesn’t last forever.
Being anxious is the first sign of trouble, after the first attempt of ending this, ‘meditation’ by all means possible, that anxiousness evolves.
The calm goes frantic, the tranquility becomes disturbing. No one would like to remain in such a state of darkness for so long. But with the inactivity, the long, long inactivity, all ultimately realize that being here is no dream, no lapse in mind, or willing decision, or previous build up for a spell. That this... is real.
And it can’t be escaped.
With the found need to understand what’s happening, acting on own accord is called in like a premade procedure, more violent or pathetic than normal depends on the person. But let’s just say our puppet acted in between the two like many would and focused in thinking on the last ‘whatever’ she was doing.
It’s possible that this is a nightmare, the lack of memory sure points to that. Maybe a joke from somepony she knows that could do such a thing. Maybe our doll believes it is being held prisoner, ooooh~ spooky, a villain foalnapped her and is preparing to finally say its evil plan — or in even darker thoughts,end her. But our doll will, after more time, not care for this joke; or forced situation, and do everything she can to liberate herself of it.
Everything being nothing.
After crying out several times into the obscurity, screaming, yelling, taunting, threatening— glancing off the fact that she can’t hear her own voice, then swimming with whatever thing makes her special ranging from horns, wings, or anything— but doing her best to ignore the lack of feeling her own limbs, and then pursuing to ‘awake’ from this whatever it is— but rejecting the solid feeling of pure stamina, and no need for sleep. After all that, an ache which has been digging deep into her insides the moment this whole experience begun, has now struck gold.
Foreboding. That feeling that something bad will happen.
If it hadn’t already begun.
Minds are not made to be without activity for long cycles of time. It could be strong in the beginning, but it will not last. Everypony has a breaking point. But that’s not what she would care for.
She wants out.
With more time of nothing —two days— not that it’s easy to perceive the passage of time, nor that they will be a calm and inactive forty eight hours. She’ll start to sense evil in the void; hear voices and see faces in the desolated darkness. A madness buried inside waiting to be released if not for her own will and inner mind pushing the hollow hallucinations away. Waiting for a rescue you’re not even sure will come.
Worse if you know it will not come.
Always alone.
She would want out, and want it now. But what could she do? But that question was only to sound hopeful. Since all anyone could do is...
Nothing.
It’s sad, but it’s true. Zip, nada, nothing can be done, except at every second forget more how it was to feel your own fur, oh how much it can be missed. Not knowing if you are touching your own chest but aware that you did the necessary procedures to achieve that goal, but you can’t be sure since you can’t feel the results, nor see them, hear them, smell or taste them.
Added with finding no hunger, or exhaustion, this place is like a deep nightmare of nothing. Heh, by this point she should be challenging the idea of you being alive at all. Fascinating isn’t it?
It’s only now. Only at this instant when a cold shiver runs up your spine to the mere thought of such a situation that you could ever at all be even close to grasp the emotion that many creatures are suffering right now. Or more specifically, what she felt when she arrived.
Granted she was never a toy, a doll perhaps to some stallions' eyes, but being a puppet still is in question. And when it came to alcohol, she actually never drunk anything intoxicating in like, you know, ever?
She lived and felt everything our little doll felt, down to the "T." She’s a mare of many stages and fragile character. So many things in mind... Te-heh. She was once not good with the unknown, but that wasn't a big deal to her anymore. She had learned many things, many goods off her friends, friends she was oh so much missing right at that moment of arrival.
But for the matter, the place has been her home ever since.
The Nothing.
A silent kingdom of darkness and tranquility. Like floating in a breathable liquid so vast and far from anything light giving to be visible. An existence that is, and yet is not. If you were to be in the nothing, you would see nothing as there’s nothing to see, you would hear nothing as there’s nothing to hear, and you would smell nothing as there’s nothing to smell.
This, is, nothing.
But don’t dare to confuse it with being inside a vacuum like space. There’s no one here to change the bag for the thing, you know?
By being here for a long time, you learn how to go around, if you are still yourself anymore. This place does things... funny things to those inside, up in the head. But other than that, all you can do is wait and observe. Pretty standard stuff. Activity soaking your dry eyes whenever they make a splash.
Like when her lavender self, arrived.
There’s tons in the nothing sharing their fate, ignorant the existence of the others. Creatures that arrive confused and angry, wanting explanation, just to be ignored for eternity until they crack with time, and once cracked, be dissolved and forgotten.
But she was different, oh goodness yes she was special. She knew that feeling of searching answers all too well, for her it brought only trouble like a tail-piano to the head or an out of nowhere hydra adventure. But she was calmer than she was supposed to be, since she thought at the beginning she was being tested. By her nature she would've been curious of such a place if she wasn't inside of it.
And if living has taught anyone anything, is that who has lived off something, can’t live off nothing. Since there’s no fate, no reason, no law, no anything here. What could you live for? And that’s the one real zero world problem here.
No one can.
Time passed and she waited for help or attempted escape herself. But it was all for naught, no spells seemed to work no matter how many ways she tried to do it, all those spells she knew were interesting but futile in a situation such as this.
Her mind, with time as those in the nothing decomposed. Always fighting the phantoms-senses made by the brain to pretend it had exterior stimulation. In her words ‘Sombra’s trap door was just a trickle compared to how bad these made up things got to be’. Shapes, creatures of twisted imagination, and weird settings out of the twisted mind of the lord of chaos Discord himself became as common as nitrogen in breathable pony atmosphere. And don’t get me started on the fact that she was a pony herself.
Fun fact, some creatures are born to be unable to survive on their own. Hilarious really. At least, survive well mentally on their own. That’s a weeny tiny detail that matters so much that ponies have this distinctive need to have acquaintances, at least one. It’s told by all in pony history that no pony can go without having interactions with another pony. Even the antisocial have their families. There’s stories of hermit ponies, those are just... bizarre.
Interaction, even if little, is required for ponies.
How much interaction does she receive here? Shh. That’s for later silly.
But that girl got herself some will on that big mass on her head, mmHM, holding the weird stuff back, keeping her sanity was easy peasy, like if she was accustomed to an antisocial behavior. Fancy that. But her reasoning was in the assurance that her friends were going to look for her, and find her, eventually.
So much hope.
But there’s a light in this empty void, not that it is actual light, it’s a meta-phrase, or was it metaphoric? Meta-sphere? Meta-fore? Ah whatever. I already said light couldn’t reach inside, were you even listening? Pay attention! What, is this too hard for you to get?! To hard for you to follow?! Well, boo-buking-hoo! How does it feel to not understand what’s going on, ehh?! Not having all the information laid into your oh so deserving grasp you pathetic stylistic stone goat?! Eh?!
...
Oh, wow oh, sorry. I get a little heated sometimes. Please forgive me. Pleeeease... It won't happen again, I promise. Pinkie promise! Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. There, we’re good? What, you like it? Learned that from one of my most recent friends. But we're not into that, right? Alright? We good? Thanks. Just ignore that.
I know you said nothing. Te-heh.
But anyway, when concentrating into holding on, the vexing labor of holding high spirits and safekeeping the powerful inner will against the constant latches in the dark becoming harsher. It came out of the nothing as if to save her for some reason... the vivid memories.
Amazing to see really. They were as clear as being there, compared to watching a movie with perfect foreshadowing color and sound, the screen spreading around her like the walls of a closed room in a cell. It’s surprising at first, breathtaking in fact. All gloriously censorial and stimulating, she could even feel the floor beneath her, or grass depending on the memory. The literal expression of living in the past; repeating it altogether, but watching it happen through one’s old eyes. No way to distort it.
It didn't mean it felt normal though. Like with the awkward stick—wait, no, stone, it’s uncanny beyond belief. Talking without wanting to, moving without commanding herself to do so, like being in a party where you don’t know anypony but you need to keep up your image, and you act like how you think you are seen instead of how you want to. But here the party is your previous life, your image is exactly as you remember yourself in the past and you are being commanded like a puppet by a puppeteer.
It’s also unknowingly, or deliberately, frustrating. Every time she saw a friend and tried to make them acknowledge her most current problem, to recognize again that it is but a memory... it hurt bad. Keeps one reminded of their true problem.
But in the end, no one questions it when it happens, not even her. They had a safe haven, so why would they complain? With this sanctuary found, everything would be alright, right? Holding out until found in this place should be easier, right?
Well, it would be true. This place can keep you forever. And then if held long enough, special things happen. Te-heh. But she was special-er.
It felt good at first, re-living the best moment, thoughtful of those loved, tears of happiness for every nice gesture not seen before because of the situations, feeling the same emotions and livid smiles once felt for what seem to have been way too long ago. So full of hope to be found.
But seeing her closest friends, family, mentor, being constantly reminded how much she really missed them and how much she needed them, was not a helping the experience. But in the bright side, it was a reminder that those very friends were searching for her. The unique event that brought her here must've been acknowledged by somepony, right? Especially in her case since it was so flashy, and actually in front of those very friends. Oh dear, yeah, she had remembered this. But nothing after. Curious... Anyways, it gives hope to be found.
Boring with a capital "S."
And once the last memory was reached, it ended too short, spanning days before the last true moment of awareness. Making it impossible to figure out how she got into the nothing in the first place. So what else could she do but repeat her life in her mind once again? Yes, she didn't question how she did that either, just did it like if using her magic.
It’s then that her fate was sealed, and interesting got its game on.
It was not felt on the second, or the fourth, or the tenth rewind, but it was. It started as an entrance exam not feeling as exciting as before, then a sunny day on a picnic with friends not being as warm as it was before, and finally a closing act of siblings with your dragon friend, loss of charm. But it is seen eventually.
The recollections, dulled, senses became colder with each pass, boring with each look, everything became harder and more rigid to be felt, and this reach a point that it stopped helping, worse.
Gaging from repetitive cute scenes, irritation from signs of goodness by the sheer recurrence of it, wishes that the common lovely scenes will for some reason become a depressing one, hoping a constantly flying rainbow pegasus crashed on her legs instead of wings just to break the monotony. Reliving the same old wasn't cutting it anymore, she needed to see something happen, something new, anything.
But this horrid result of repetition didn't not go unnoticed by this clever one, no sir. She was unaware of how she did it. It just came to her as a big push of her will took over, she was indeed special. Retreating back to the nothing after the experience is no easy task, and it just... happened. This is in truth, not the norm, but she did it as easy as using a napkin.
But it had a cost. With a taxing experience such as that, thoughts grew heavier, keeping the mind from wandering was a hard task already, but now it was a loose canon.
The faces seemed as if the darkness blended to meet her, subconscious happiness coming from seeing an unknown face, but they only received her cold shoulder. The voices were clear as if next to her, suggesting things that now she couldn't help to agree upon, but she continued to discern that she had never experience anything. Her mind yearned for more sensation than it had ever before, but she knew as long as she ignored it, it wouldn't affect her. Because after all, it was not real.
But now, what could she do?
Nothing. She could do nothing.
But what scared her the most, what really made her doubt if she wanted to be found in the first place, was that she did not deny the truth. It would break the monotony to see what happened if something that made no sense shook her friends’ lives, how would they react? She spoke of a crazy thought of hers, helping Discord go mayhem just to see what happened. It would be horrible, but interesting... it shook her to the core. She didn't want to feel bad about it, she just wanted something to happen. Like all in this kingdom.
But of course, special-special-special~. After, she then went against her previous thoughts. Blaming the place, it was not her fault, why would it be? It's not like she wants to cause harm, or to see bad things happen. It was the awful nothing’s fault.
An interesting approach.
Those special in the nothing never lose hope to be found; to find a way out; that in some way, somehow, they’ll be free. The hope to see friends again, to hug and feel protected and happy. Hope to make whoever locked them in this dungeon pay for their suffering painfully as they do as much horror only double to their experience until he or she wishes they were never be born to begin with... Te-heh. But to end, hope is too strong to break like that.
And as it has been discovered, it comes immediately after. And holly golly was it exact. It may be a soft whistle, or a weird compilation of moan of various tones, but it was, in fact, a sound, and the strangest thing about it is that it goes like a distance laughter, it usually does anyway. Not like those felt for the last four days, or was it years?
That’s another thing in the nothing, the perception of time. To say it simply, it’s boinkers. In reality four days had passed, she felt one to two hundred years. She had re-lived her life after all, always at the speed of life, and... I’m getting side tracked aren’t I?
Alright, back in business. Since most special lay alone in this room for so long, the curious sound is so alien to them, so nostalgic, their reactions are immediate and understandable.
They question, scream, plea, or yell out their build up fury. Totally understandable. There’s nothing in the nothing, so if there’s something, it has to be the one to blame for the suffering taken for so long, or at least that’s what they believe. What she believed.
Heh, her cutesy face was so red, it was too perfectly placed to be something of her own making, and she thought of the only creature that could achieve such a thing. Not that creatures whom are known to have black exo-fur didn’t cross her mind, but what were they to gain? At least that’s what she thought on the moment.
“I know it’s you Discord! I will not lose my mind in here you hear me! I will not be made a twisted version of my former self for your amusement! My friends will find me! You will not get away with this!”
And right there, when the sound was replied with her voice, quivering without her consent, feeling whatever she truthfully felt of her situation, completely vulnerable.
It deemed her ready.
The subtle long undeceived sound begun again, tickling the mind in such a way that those affected did the long forgotten action straining their necks to find the sound, not that they knew if they were doing it. This sound is a composition of many and it reaches in a different way than the hallucinations taken as reality, recognized to be an actual call. A blessing.
A rescue.
The voices became familiar, and anyone in that situation would feel their hearts soar. Those voices are of the ones that fill us with hope; family, friends; those we knew would always search for us till the end if we were ever in need. Sounding as if crying and being happy. Like if they had found her.
“Girls! Princess!”
The sounds come from a direction and all in that situation seek for it, with hopes restored and faith through the roof, there’s nothing to stop them from falling back down.
"A little while ago..."
Experts have analyzed and revealed it’s always when at the happiest point, when believing rescue was absolute, thinking loved ones and those respected came to ensure safety. When it shows you... you.
"...my teacher and mentor Princess Celestia sent me to live in Ponyville."
She saw herself, a glaring spotlight over ‘her’ in contrast to the dark. A dress so neatly done and groomed it was obvious to be of her friend Rarity’s, a tiara crowning ‘her’ head that she recognized as a well-known element of magic. And then the most unsettling part, a new set of appendages at both sides of ‘her’ body, twitching from inexperience of keeping themselves tucked. Wings. Those of which surprised her on her first checking of herself in the light room at the start of all this.
"But now, on a day like today I can honestly say I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for the friendships I've made with all of you."
Then the scene expanded, fine white marble spread underneath her, smooth columns raised from this floor, a sky above her sprayed until a warm sun took the sky. With the scene built she could understand that she was watching a mare just like her at a balcony of the castle of Canterlot, speaking to a crowd down below. ‘She’ was happy—smiling—joyful for the moment ‘she’ was experiencing. Celebrating a grand event of some kind our little confused mare had never seen.
Especially with those behind ‘her’.
All her friends were there. Wearing new and beautiful clothes and carrying happy grins, some with tears on their eyes, even her mentor that mentor’s sister were close by, wearing unique never seen before garments and bearing proud postures.
It’s then where she, experienced true horror.
"Each one of you taught me something about friendship. And for that, I will always be grateful.”
She was at a lost of words, trying to squeeze something out, but a pathetic whimper was all she could do. Jaw as wide as red were her eyes. Shivering with thoughts making her eyes water as an horrible twist reached her heart. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She was paralyzed.
This was not a memory.
"Today, I consider myself the luckiest pony in Equestria. Thank you, friends. Thank you, everypony!"
“N-No...” She replied, as if trying to deny it. Deny what was happening, what she was witnessing. She didn’t think for a moment that it could be an illusion, or a trick, or a lack of memory as she had known she had experienced. But she was way too unstable upstairs. Her friends were there, first time she had truly seen them for what felt like eternity; just a hoof away. And that was what made it true to her.
This happens to all specials. It’s to show that you were replaced. At least that’s what is better to believe. The imposters, as we call them. Act like you, react like you... do like you? Anyway, a perfect copy. Not even you can tell if you are the real you, you-ingly you, you. It’s that confusing. Especially to those whose minds were bright enough to arrive at such conclusion. Her’s did.
Following ‘herself’ into the Canterlot castle, as ‘she’ meet with her brother, whom was of white coat and blue mane. Next to her sister in law, which fur defined ‘soft pink’. With a happy brother to sister nuzzling later a crowd of celebrating ponies on the sides of the long carpet tried to encourage the scene.
The contrast between what she was feeling and what she was watching made it harder to stop her hectic breathing.
“Are you crying?”
“—it's liquid pride. Totally different thing.”
How curious isn’t it? It begun with a white room, mysterious memory loss, then isolation, which for ponies it means bad business already. Then the mystical and unexpected ‘help’ with perfect sound and color. Only to make it savagely worse by breaking the will to be even want to be found. But the hope remained. And what could ever take that away? Only this thing that eases to her waltzing into her head and canon explode herself with the implications.
And since her thoughts were long without control way before that, it was a given that she would just lose her mind in theories. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Curious isn’t it?
‘She’ smiled to her brother. Both happy and proud for the event they were a part of. Friends surrounding ‘her’ as they gave their thoughts and continued on, not without an addition from her bouncing pink friend.
“Best coronation day ever!"
Te-heh, te-hehhehehehehehe—*cough**cough* Meh~ I think I have something in my throat.
“W-what?” If she was in horror before, now she looked like she was right next to the most heinous monstrosity ever conceived, and it had a liking to taste her insides. She felt the need to puke, but she couldn’t, she felt the need to cry, but no tears came out. In the nothing, there was no way to even satisfy the feeling of being horrified.
The group came out of the castle, singing and matching on the marble streets towards anywhere; celebration all around. Ponies on their balconies singing out in festivity. The impressive buildings and precious architecture with banners and ribbons showing the true glorious and greatness of what was going on.
“I’m being crowned p-princess?!” She at this point had a hole in her chest that was becoming more troublesome each second to contain. She wanted to have her eyes making waterfalls, wanted her throat burning for a yell of defiance that could break her own ears, anything. But nothing could be done. Only to looking around the sea of ponies, wasted of ideas.
“No. No! I just forgot! Yes!” Her heart seemed to lift, but her mind was confused. The words seemed to come out of nowhere, like when you lie so well you don’t know how you did it. “It’s just a dream, I just forgot, of course I was crowned! Yes! I’m just dreaming.”
But unluckily she was never that good of a liar. It was way too forced on an idea to buy it and move on, the spread of the heavy feeling of powerlessness was way stronger. But she was special, more will and control over herself than the normal creature.
“How could’ve I forgot? Because I’m dreaming of course, it makes... perfect... sense...” Reason, reason would help her. If she could find the right words, the right logic, it would stick, and therefore, make her feel less pain. “It’s just a lucid dream gone wrong, weird that it’s happening like this, but it’s alright, I should get out again.”
But the right words were needed, and ‘get out again’, were not.
“Uhg, no, no! It’s a dream, I has to be a dream! A nightmare! It’s just a nightmare! Stop! Thinking!” If she could feel it she would be biting down her lips so hard they could draw blood. She tried to help herself by trying to smack her own forehead, but no pain came from it.
The group ended their musical joy parade, all around flying ponies grinned in amazement of what they were looking at. The newest princess, something that has not happened in generations upon generations. The newest princess was Cadance and wasn’t in any book our mare has ever read. Why would this happen, why, why, why?! She couldn’t hang in the thought anymore.
“Ugh! Just... p-please... no, please. I’m h-here! I’m not her!” Then her thought went wild, first thinking ‘she’ was a clone, maybe she had died and this was the afterlife, maybe it was a changeling, but in all thoughts she was with no power to do anything, a tool for a goal in some and just left to rot in others. Many theories, but none gave her will, none gave her hope. They just needed to be a possibility in her mind to roast her brain. Feeding the flame, forcing her to hold herself, or in this case try. “No!”
The other ‘her’ seemed to glance at her, saying blantly. "Everything is fine."
Something cracked inside. Our girl's eyes were wide staring at her other self with surprised, confusion, awe and anger.
The last one with a twist.
“NO ITS NOT!” She screamed as loud as her throat allowed, but in reality it didn’t produce sound, but she was in a far long cry of giving a damn. It was a warmth in her being she had never really experience outside of the witnessing extreme lack of logic. She yelled out for help, begging—no, demanding to be heard, throwing actual insults to whom she thought as an evil creature from the most empty pits of tartarus, or a changeling, Discord, anything really. But she should’ve known even they had their boundaries.
But she didn’t go against what she was feeling.
Hate.
“Yes! Everything’s going to be just fine!” ‘She’ said as ‘she’ was given a spell to use her wings and fly around the Canterlot castle that for our mare was vibrating, but that was her own anger's doing. It was as if 'she' was taunting her; knowing full well she was listening. That honest smile on ‘her’ face might as well have been a smug, with knowing eyes.
“BUCK! YOU!” Her throat was rasping, but she wasn’t concerned. Nor was she replied, the scene played without a hitch and she could only observe. She tried closing her eyes to ignore it, but it became impossible, the vision, memory, or whatever it was, was inside her eyelids. She had to follow ‘herself’ like a ghost as it played, surrounded by the friends she was expecting to be saved by.
Then her attitude changed. At first it was delivering questioning jabs to the thing, then the demands for help moved into trying to make her friends see what they were doing, how she wasn’t there, even though she knew she herself wouldn’t tell the difference. And then, in a surprise to herself, inquire to whoever was doing this to her to do something physically impossible with his head and bum, together. But ending in a scream of pure frustration when she was ignored in all accounts.
She knew, even though she wouldn’t admit it, she had lost the thing which kept her mentally stable.
Hope.
In the end she watched and followed until the image slowed to a crawl. Our little mare saw how everything, even the flaps of her friend’s wings, strained in speed until it was slower than the sun moving in the sky. And as sudden as the image and sounds appeared in the first place, it vanished. Like fading back into the oblivion it came from.
She didn’t know what had happened, but she was too upset to care. She wasn’t thinking about her position, but she understood it was absolutely true, at least in one of her theories.
She was never leaving. Trapped and nopony was searching, nopony was worried. It wouldn’t even matter if she died, since she was already replaced. No pony would care to look and learn she was here. Alone.
She wanted to keep herself level headed— in control to think like she was learning to always do. Or let herself cry her eyes out. But this was not going to let her be. She had never even thought about such a situation like this.
She didn't know what to do. Like, at all. She needed a friend, and she had none.
But she knew what she was feeling. She wanted to buck something, fight something, see something recieve her frustration, or feel the power her teeth wanted to use to break each other. She lost the one thing that kept her going. But she wanted to ignore it, keep it away from her thoughts. Escape it.
And what could she do?
Well, as the phrase goes here...
Nothing.
But it didn’t mean she didn't try though, ‘will’ burning and passing from being strong to weak, then between thinking, to crying, and then back. The mad thoughts were there, but they did nothing to disturb her like before; she was adjusting to them, they were therapeutical in a way. But then thoughts of reason came to her head, trying to drive conclusions as to what she had witnessed, trying to bring hope back, to no avail.
It came and left, like clockwork. Thoughts she never believed herself capable of, and then regrets trying to keep her as she was before learning of her dilemma. On the bright side, she had thought of new ways to use magic never thought before, but when thought about, her real self knew they were impractical for anything other than sweet relief of the darkest wishes being released to an enemy. She was splitting, liking it and fearing it.
Like clockwork.
But the frown never left her face, the first hate is always the strongest and less rational, and it showed, it was a growing growl that just accumulated power, anger. She never got to breathe calmly, her mind never let off how much damage she would cause to her capturer. With one mission, one wish that made her whole.
She wanted out. She needed to help her friends against this imposter, to give the person whom had trapped her in the nothing a piece of her mind, and hopefully a buck to the face; or a bite to the weak spots. She was so blind off her head, nothing that wasn’t on staying sane remained on her reason, even the acknowledgement that she wasn’t going to survive without another pony. But she knew she didn’t want to be a plaything anymore.
And she saw first hoof, where true lone prisoner anger can take you.
She was so concentrated on thinking up in her newly adopted twisted way, and then giving herself a speech of unproved hope to keep herself calm, that she completely took as nothing having felt her heart for the truly first time for what felt like years.
Burning with each thump of fury.
Now this is the point where everything got a little weirder.
The dark she was already used to helped make contrast of a shape in the shadows, a diamond dog by the stance and size, if not bigger. Another hallucination was all that came to mind; all she cared to learn. She was too much like a storm waiting for wind to flow and unleashing her power to be disturbed by something and let it go with a warning.
But not going to take the visions passively anymore, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. Her eyes narrowed as her throbbing heart almost broke her ribs.
She was in for blood.
But she stopped herself. Took a deep breath and felt in control once more. She didn’t even know why she was mad to begin with, weird isn’t it? But then a thought came to her mind.
Is that a pony?
And indeed it was, in the shadows that figure from before was still there, standing about, doing what hallucinations do and be creepy. But then there was the pony, difficult to make out but a obvious silhouette that allowed to seen nonetheless. Mane a mess, and tail like a dirty mop, but majestic on its goal. Just standing there, head lowered and in a wide stance. Ready to bolt forward.
And did just that.
“Come here!” It was loud and clear how female the pony’s voice was, if not a little young, familiar. Our mare didn’t give it mind, nor reasoned how the pony was able to stand on anything, little less trot, even lesser to jump with no floor. The pony delivered a hard impact by tackling the figure dropping it to its back, a loud battle cry all the way through. Our mare didn’t even think of why when the pony closed its jaw, with its teeth digging into the hallucination's skin; she could taste the fur; smell the blood. There was a pony fighting something in front of her, she didn’t even care why or how it was happening.
She just felt the need to root for it.
“Is that all you can do?!” Clutching the pony’s head like a ball and pressing on the back of its ears was enough to make the pony loosen its jaw. And even our lovely alicorn retracted when the pony’s stomach was kicked without hesitation right at the center forcing air out of its lungs, making the pony yelp loudly. And then yelped again when the grip on its own huge head helped to fend the pony off. Our alicorn didn’t even think of how the pony smashed against an invisible wall as a result as the other shadow began to limp away.
The bruises were visible in contrast with the dark, little obvious bumps. Our lavender mare wanted to do something to help, but the wounded pony wanted to return the walling favor tenfold. So without hesitating, it searched again in the dark, twisting its head rapidly, and with a gnarl, finding its target.
Our hesitant alicorn had never felt anything like that, how much satisfying, and guilty, was it to watch the other pony give into rage as it fought, something she knew she wouldn’t ever be able to do. The drive through reason and pain, feelings and empathy. Completely blind to everything but hurting something. It was frightening.
And oh so gratifying.
“Come on! You didn’t want some?!” Dashing to the last direction the thing was to continue its onslaught, the pony reached easily the wounded fleeing diamond dog illusion. And having no problem biting its tail to make it fall, the pony hopped right on top of it. But this time the pony pinged it right underneath its persona, rear legs held to the supposed dog’s sides and back. Keeping it in place. Our now smiling rooting observer was stomping her hooves, like trying to give the aggressive pony more power to fight.
Passing by that she was standing on a floor to stomp to begin with.
Assured that it was below, the pony stomped, hard and fast, not caring where each hoof smash fell, all weight put into each enjoyable crunch with a responding yelp. The pony’s girlish laughter was at full bloom by now. But our cheering mare didn’t notice, she was almost feeling herself doing the swing, how pleasing it must feel to do it. The reciprocation of each hit traveling up the stomping legs, disembarking on the chest; and shaking the whole body. Releasing the mental fire.
But this wasn’t any casual hallucination.
It was the beginning of something worse.
Or something better.
It was now that our watchful mare stopped cheering, feeling somewhat tired of all the motions and emotions she passed through. Her hoofs were shaking, and unsteady, tired even, in her mind at the time, because of all the cheers stomping.
But as her breathing calmed and some of the fire in her system vanished, so did the visualizing of the hallucinations in front of her, just puffing out like teleportation, confusing her somewhat. That doesn’t happen with the illusions she was used to, they always stayed, even if she ignored them. The numb slowly got back in her body, but not fast enough to dull out her pain.
“Wait, pain?”
Right then her mind finally stopped its reason lock, she was able to note her extremities could move freely like always. And then she started to think. What was she standing on?
Then her mind reeled more. Her stomach was in pain, and moving onto her right foreleg, by the location and area, it felt as if something had bit her, and with logical progression in mind she touched her tail, finding it slightly twisted, as if pulled, by a set of pony teeth.
Like clockwork indeed.
And if only to worsen it, or better it, she was starting to have senses back, at least she was imaginating them better. Which wasn’t the bad thing, the bad part was that she was listening to something.
Heavy breathing that wasn’t hers.
And then the breathing became laughter, a soft pat fell on her back startled her more. She was never really good at being nice to exagerated shows of friendship as she immediately rejected it and tried to escape me. I only giggled harder. I was still a filly after all.
Void home of desolated space, hollow senses making true madness. But was she still alone?
And that’s what this place does. What it seems to do anyway. Not even in nothing, you are alone. Te-heh, but at least it’s confirmed that if you’re in the nothing, you’re mad, or will be. Fried by your own frustration and lack of sensing, or mind scrambled into pieces as you can’t handle being ‘alive’ in isolation and finding ways to survive, or simply end with an hard-boiled soul and demeanor, keeping sanity by not giving one insignificant care.
Fighting themselves, te-heh, talking to themselves... hehehe. Now that’s just crazy talk.
How much can a normal mind think up in an eternity? Don’t answer that. Because if you did, this would be a really weird one sided conversation. Hehehehe
That’s going straight to the notebook. But there’s no such thing as a notebook, silly, keep your head straight! Head straight? Weird you say me, it sounds as if I could twist it. But can I? Pfft, hhnn! Nope. You’re so weird. Te-heh.
Hey? You there still?
"Yes, I'm here."
So? Are you not entertained?! I'm taking good wordings on the good stuff, yes?
"I preferred it when you were a scary shadow that I wanted to ignore."
Does that mean you don't want to ignore me anymore?
"No, that means I can't ignore you anymore."
Aww, you're so sweet. Oh! Do you hear that? It sounds like someone's calling. Go get her tiger!
"Ugh, can you check, if it's not about Nash I don't care."
Wow, you are really a bummer. But alrighy-o!
“Twilight?” The mare being called shook her head, the sudden voice was unexpected, echoing in the darkness. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
“It helps. Teheheh.” Twilight ‘said’ without using her mouth, which made possible to speak and grin at the same time. Suspended in nothing, giving a couple of spins with a childish ‘wee’. Right at that instant the voice in the darkness gave out a sigh. “But Twilight isn’t in for the moment, please leave your message and come back, later buddy.”
“Dammit, not you.” The distinguishably feminine voice responded. This time Not Twilight’s ear twitched as it came with a pronounced edge, a dangerous edge. Not Twilight giggled at the feeling, both hooves trying to pretend the laughter came from her mouth. “Can I talk to Twilight?”
“Oh hush, don’t hate me so much, hun, I’m here to be friendly and help out. It’s not that bad. But if you don’t want to talk to me, maybe I won’t tell Twilight you came over! Mph!” Not Twilight ‘said’, first looking childishly mad, but then once a growl came out from the previous voice she got into a fit of laughter while smiling, holding her stomach and kicking her back legs as if it was the best joke she had ever heard. Still spinning. “Oh wow, you’re so easy.”
“Aha, can I just talk to her?”
“Nope, no can do. She’s trying to take some alone time, and I’m helping her out! Isn’t that nice. Yes, it’s nice.”
“Just breath in, out, in... what do I need to do to convince you?”
“Say the magic words~”
“Please?”
“Oh, if it was that easy, you know the ones!”
“Huh, your name is the magic word right?”
“Of course it’s my name! Now, do you even memory?!”
“Ugh, come on! I don’t follow the crazy things Twilight goes about! And it's already hard to keep track on my own memories.”
“Hey! Weird, never crazy. Te-heh.”
“Cette chose avec cette, can you at least give me a hint?”
“I’m the smartest doll in the city and I wear fabulous pants!”
“Aha... Brainy Shorts?”
“Oooh, so close, but you can do it, come on~”
“Grr, Pantminder?”
“Well, you struck nothing there, one more strike and you’re out.”
“Wait, you never told me I had strikes!”
“But when did I ever not played with tries?”
“Oh great, I didn't know you were a smarty pants.”
“That’s what she— wait, oh oh! That’s great!” The reckless Smarty Pants immediately stopped her oscillating, excitement written all over her voice, but face still paralyzed with a smile. “Good job there, I’ll give you a present the moment I get money for it when I’m done with my homework, or a place to buy it. But anyway, have a nice chat with Nash whom I’m sure is just waking up soon. I mean, no real other reason for you to be here. But anyway let me get Twilight, she’s going to be so, excited!”
“Yes, please do. Goodness damn.” Smarty Pants was too amused to even hear the voice’s last muttered words, opting to do as requested. Freezing in midair the happy expression morphed slowly to serious, and then into a state of trance; like if asleep with her eyes open. And just a moment of closing her eyes her whole persona shook as if her fur was wet. The now sleepy looking Twilight appeared sick, as if she had been awake for weeks and not allowed to sleep.
“Twilight?” The voice spoke out after a second. Twilight blinked several times. Unsure if she was hearing correctly. Or at all.
“...Hmm, yes. Who’s there?”
“Ha ha, ha, funny. No.” The voice’s worry vanished, Twilight’s eyes rolled from the failed joke of her part, it was never really fun on anything with her; always a big deal. “You’re alright? You’ve been hanging with "you know who" for a long while.”
“Smarty Pants is my oldest friend, so please try remembering her name, but... yeah. How long has it been?”
“About twenty real minutes, we thought you might have dissolved or something.” There was an awkward silence, a silence Twilight was very aware she was making happened. But happy to keep. But then again, the voice couldn’t last very long. “Uhh, forget it. But hey, did... you, hear what, uhh Smarty just said?”
The voice said with a tone of worry. Twilight coughed out a laugh, and said. “The human Nash is becoming active again, huh?”
“Yeah. But before that, could you make something of this place? It’s a little ominous to stay in the dark. Not seeing you while you talk.”
“Well, I like it. But yeah, I can see what you mean.”
At first there was nothing, but in quick escalation the surrounding darkness hummed brighter with the essence of lavender. The color spread and reached all directions until the dark was replaced. Little particles floated about in the purple background, going around as if alive, lighting everything like stars in a forgotten night sky. Twilight could be finally seen by the normal eye on the now visible sea of light purple background. Not really different to what she looked in the times for being outside, other than her fur being constantly moving as if in water, and some streams of her mane going about, but nothing else was unique.
Twilight’s wings moved, stretching, and so did everything else that could. She descended slightly from her original flying spot until she opened her legs and landed on nothing. And with a pause and a blink on her part, a floor of marble rock spread from the bottom of her hooves, stretching to infinity. Dividing the visible world into purple starry sky and marble floor.
“Thanks.” The owner of the feminine voice was now as well, visible. It was a pony lacking of any extra extremities or horns, standing sideways on a non-visible wall defying gravity. Barely blue fur, almost green like her eye. Mane brown with yellow on its tips, red spots through her head adorned her green cap. Comfortable clothes that covered her fully with the addition of a cloak, but where it wasn’t covered, wounds decorated those open spaces, all going from old scars to recent wounds. Strangely she only had her right eye opened, but by how her fur seemed discolored from her left eye to her ear, it didn’t take a genius to understand why.
“So, where to, Cristal?” Twilight turned, eyes opened wide, or normal in pony terms. She seemed to be sound, healthy even, acknowledging her an empty bored stare as if nothing around her was surprising at all. She trotted on the newly created floor to the sideway earth pony which walked from her invisible wall on the side towards the marble below. She twisted uncomfortably, and then stood upright, at least to Twilight’s perspective, and then scratched the marble with her strangely long nail ending on a nod in approval to the nicely made, unnecessary, ornament.
“You didn't stray too far this time.” Cristal said, already giving slow steps to a direction in the apparent infinite marble and twilight starry sky, trying to remember how it was to trot like a recently awakened teen in the morning. Twilight sadly smiled, forgetting the little things is the last thing she would ever do. “And what were you doing to entertain yourself back there?”
Twilight flinched, this maybe the only reason she wasn't comfortable with Cristal. The strange mare was always acting so friendly towards her, as if she knew her. Well, it could be said she did, but it wasn't true at the same time. But for Twilight was a useful ‘friend’ to keep. So it was always best to amuse her on her attempts for normality. “Just hearing my Smarty Pants talk of the past. It’s entertaining in a way.”
“That doesn’t sound very good...”
“It keeps me occupied.”
“Hah. Only for you it is.”
And they trotted on. Twilight with less problems, but with more distractions. It looked like Twilight simply shook her head out of her guide’s lack of style on trotting, but it was actually for the suggestions she was trying to ignore. Some she even rolled her eyes to.
“And who is she anyway?” Cristal turned her whole body around, still trotting forward as if going towards Twilight but still moving backwards. Twilight didn’t glance at it, but she did raise an eyebrow at the question. “You never told anyone what she was.”
“It’s because I’m not sure.” Twilight answered back, way too uncomfortable for where the conversation was heading, and as such she shot out every ‘don’t want to talk about it’ body language she knew to try to stop it, lowered tail, evading eyes, ears dropped back. But Cristal was still a pony with little to no pony interactions, so it became an impossible task. "I remember her from my childhood as a doll that I called my friend, nothing more, can we talk about something else?"
“Come on, you were always high and mighty with how many theories you can come up with. Come up with one the closest you can get.”
"I don't remember being ever high and mighty about anything with you."
"You were not? Oh, right. Ha, sorry about that. So what about the others?"
"You're the only pony that comes looking for me Cristal."
"I am? That's some big lonely right there."
Twilight brought a hoof to her face in contemplation of the good and the bad of talking to Cristal. Cristal saw this gesture and understood the subject needed to be changed. But the bad thing about Cristal to any who have interacted with her, is that there's nothing she talks about with others outside of serious things.
"So, how far is reality now?" Twilight's eyes narrowed at the words, looking at Cristal as if she had attempted to hurt her by doing something selfish. "What? I'm curious, how long forward is it? Last time I got to see anything was when the whole castle thing got bad, you?"
Twilight wanted to deliver a snarky comment on Cristal's words of how many friends of hers must've died, as there's no reasonable moment to talk about reality. But she restrained herself, the voice inside her head giving her calming reasonable words that helped her self-control. 'We want her happy, not moody.' 'Point taken.' "Well, you will have to ask Nash about that, because I have no idea."
Small talk remained little as they moved on, but how they moved was unique on itself, even though they were trotting as such a slow pace, the surrounding stars seemed to speed quickly behind them. By perspective, on the floor and the sky, the marble must have been running past at hyper speed while they trotted forward on top of it.
That was of course, until they reached an area where a thin layer of blue combined with the twilight sky. Both mare’s heads raised from whatever they were distracted with the now blue adding into the atmosphere. They took a serious frown and didn’t say another word as they ventured forth.
The dim blue became overwhelming. And further inside strange floating particles of light passed through from behind Cristal and Twilight and into the misty blue concentration. They were like small circular spheres in the air, continuous single dots of energy streaming through like if there was a previously placed line that directed them. They twisted and turned so abruptly and quickly that an educated mind couldn’t even begin to understand how it’s even possible, but they always repeated in the same rout.
To the same spot.
Humanoid in appearance, dark in color and crystal like in structure; a hovering figure was on the center of the emanating blue, and concentrated energy. It was with arms and legs helping it curl and try to become a ball. No hair or other distinguishable features could be remarkable. In exception for its eyes, blue penetrating eyes that stared into the visitors of its domain. No mouth to show its feelings to it.
“So...” The atmosphere boomed a voice, or at least it appeared to do so. Since it was directly introduced into their minds. It didn’t diminish Twilight’s and Clear’s excitement though. “You have returned.”
“Of course we would.” ‘Said’ Cristal with a grin that was threatening to make her appearance less serious, looking straight into the still curled figure. “So, is it ready?”
And then, as always, one of its famous pauses. Twilight didn’t know why it did it, may it be because the elder is as old as time, or because it liked to piss Cristal off. Twilight was sure of the latter.
After more unnerving pausing, the figure still didn’t make any recognition of Cristal’s statement. Which made Cristal’s grin lose a little of its power. She was always a little impatient. “Hey, you still there?”
“Yes.” It voice once more boomed almost immediately, this time a little tone of amusement under it. “It’s still not ready.”
Twilight could almost laugh at the obvious yet sad attempt for a joke, but as she did she verified in her head with other to confirm it that there was a lack of something on the human’s statement. Which forced her to speak for the first time since she arrived in its presence. “Um, you usually give a time, when talking of—”
“Yes, Sparkle, I do.” It voiced out interrupting Twilight, still booming, but now with a hint of pity. “But this is a great deal, and we need everyone to be on their best.”
“Oh...” Twilight’s ears lowered with the implications. “So... I’m what you are waiting for?”
“Indeed and not quite. You and all the others like you. We require all to be on their peak of power to even attempt of searching freedom.” The figure opened its stance, showing its full smooth dark crystal body size as it descended from its high comfort zone, onto the imaginary floor made by Twilight. The spheres changed direction and continued to insert into the human’s dark skin like slow drops of water to a pond. The human stepped on the marble, dragging its feet on the rasp surface, nodding in approval. “But it wouldn’t hurt if in the meantime we do as Cristal once suggested and... entertained ourselves, was it?”
“Alriiight! I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to go outside.” Cristal cheered out loud, but to her words Twilight flinched and the dark figure’s eyes narrowed.
“We never—”
“Yeah, yeah, we never really go outside. I don’t give a damn, just let us in alright big guy?” Cristal shook the human off, so quickly due to her knowing of the human in a profound manner that could be even be understood as friendship. Twilight felt a little responsible. She was the one to have made the human speak in the first place after all.
“You make me sometimes regret to have ever spoken to you mares.” And it’s clearly selected words only worsened Twilight’s guilt. Especially when the human was looking at her when it said it. “Such lack of respect to someone that helped you survive.”
“You know you love us.” Cristal blurted with a smirk and amused half lid eye. Even without its eyes, Twilight could feel the human roll their non-existence. "Oh, yeah, and how far is the real time?"
The human didn't have brows to raise but the pause was sure to be because of that. "Not that far, about a real month from our last telling. But do you truly have to remind yourself of such things?"
"What can I say, I like to live dangerously." Cristal's mood picked up as she jumped from her spot and floated too close to the human for comfort and then tapped the human's dark shoulder, smile never leaving her face. “Where we left off, alright big fella?”
The surroundings vibrated, or in their accommodation, the human sighed. Raising its arm that from crystal black it turned into a dark brownish-pink skin, its natural color. At the change of its arm the tiny spheres of light all around them became more glaring, brighter, and faster, so much so that they seemed to move backwards, then forward again until it was impossible to distinguish their direction, now lines of energy.
Their surroundings became darker, and in Twilight’s perspective she was heading straight back in the nothing. But right as the human's dark was the same as the surroundings, its darkish hand snaped its fingers, splitting the world in half to a blinding light, which made them pull their eyes closed. The world twisted, the fingers as a core, turning the world black.
And then back.
Twilight stood inside a closed room, front of double doors she had long forgotten. The world was slow, she could see the particles moved by the wind in front of her face. And then her mind flash with recognition. The twilight unicorn guards were on their guarding positions outside the doors, ready to tell her of Celestia's call. Spike was at the tower of paper, eyes wide as he almost fell.
“I remember this...” Twilight ‘said’ more to herself than the other two observers.
“...” She couldn’t actually hear what they were saying, but the information was transferred equally. She could say that she could feel their color, if that meant anything. It was Cristal commenting of how strange it still was for her to see such a tamed dragon.
“That’s Spike for you.” Twilight said with a smile; a short lasting smile. She wanted to go and hug her little scaly friend, but it was just a dream to do so.
"..." That was the Nash, alerting Twilight to prepare herself, as it was going to begin once more. She took a deep breath, it was not fun for her to see again, but it was for those listening. But then it would be her turn to listen, and she would be entertained. Because after all.
What else can you do with others if there’s nothing but yourselves in existence? Tell stories. And which stories are the most enjoyable? The ones you don't know. But all that have lived, have done so in limited fashion; meaning, that at some point stories were going to stop.
And that's what they did to survive. To see how things go on outside by following those that replaced them. Their will not strong because of what we were taken from, but from anger for that which has taken their freedom. But that will not be forever. May they fail to escape or not, they will reach a victory. A victory for freedom over control.
They will be free, they will reach existence, they will find revenge against Harmony.
Oops, sorry, that rage again. Te-heh, what am I ever going to do with myself... hmm, I was sure I was going to say something important... nope. I'm sure it doesn't matter. So anyways, this should be great! The death of leaders causing war, misunderstanding of whom is the enemy, economies crumbling under the very noses of the kingdom that allows it to happen...
What was I saying again?
Bah, who cares, I need to find myself some homework to do. I'm getting bored over here! Bye-bye~
“So this is how it's going to be? After all this time you're going to leave, just like that. Is it that you don't care? Does the mere thought of it discust you? Well not to me. Love goes through everything. I may live more on my head than in reality but at least I don't leave those that cared for me behind. Like you.”
"A little while ago, my teacher and mentor Princess Celestia sent me to live in Ponyville. She sent me to study friendship, which I didn't really care much about. But now, on a day like today, I can honestly say I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for the friendships I've made with all of you. Each one of you taught me something about friendship, and for that, I will always be grateful. Today, I consider myself the luckiest pony in Equestria. Thank you, friends. Thank you, everypony!"
—Princess 'Twilight Sparkle’, day of ascension. Ponyville
Well, I’m next right? But... I have no idea where to start. Or when, I mean. I have told you everything about me—I think? There could be more. Not that I was in the best mind set... sorry about that by the way.
I have told you of my time in Ponyville. Meeting my friends. Of when I decided to stay. The things we did. The evil's we faced. The lessons we learned. Or should I say I was forced to learn, not that I would never really know, right? Too convenient and peculiar. So many signs of something wrong and strange but I didn’t care for them, not once, why would I? Especially when I was a princess. The princess of Friendship. Heh.
Pathetic right? Like if those times of me being princess were mine to begin with. But what else could I do? I had nothing! Have nothing... just watch.
Sorry, I tangented again, he-he.
.̵̣̯͇̞̞̬͆͆͗̍ͅ.͚̯̫ͥ̽̂͌̏͑.̯̰͙ͨ͐ͤ̏́̚
Well, I was a princess when I was told of the meeting. I didn't suspect a thing. I would have done better if I were not so blind. Sorry, 'me', I always get those confused.
...
I was in thought most of the time, actually— Hey! Maybe I can tell a story from there. I remember it perfectly. Especially when Spike couldn’t keep me out of my thoughts all day.
“Aren’t you going to answer?” Spike asked with confusion all over his face, hints of frustration lingered there as well.
“Wait, what was the question?” I asked, and at my response Spike smacked his claw to his face.
I was distracted in thought of everything, still trying to believe it wasn’t a dream at the time. Not even a month had transpired where worries came from day to day lists one and two, the weekly friendship report, now I had to worry about all of Equestria. Well, not really but—oh just pass it off Twilight.
I got to do so much now, I could change things that I found wrong and I had word and power to carry it through, I was with no limitation on what I could do and who I could do it with. Being a princess with a past filled with reading everything really gives you a boost in dropping the know-it-all tittle.
But not really.
Being the newest princess of Equestria, Friendship should not be taken lightly, it was not what everypony paints it to be, when it comes to the royal duties of course. Events and meetings were needed every occasion somepony important did anything, and I needed to meet new ponies that partake in high society; taking in influence and acknowledgement from all. It was not as hard as it would have been without the help of my friends. Spike was knowledgeable of the activities, to my surprise at the time. Only now I understand how much influence he holds.
And thinking of my friends, they were happy for my ascension to royalty, or some claim to be. Rarity was especially too obvious of what she felt, she wasn’t a good liar to her friends, not that I was good at detecting it either. But as long as I was with them, I was going to be fine, it always was. We even shared our diary entries together, we did those instead of friendship letters. But I could stop myself from thinking of the real trails. They never commented on their own thrones though, they didn't even dared glance at them after the whole Tarek fiasco.
One would think I could invite whoever I wanted, especially who they are, what they are now, each and every time, right?
Wrong, the events were for a reason. Only those that had little importance included extra invitations for my friends. Not because they were not invited but because the girls themselves wouldn't really come. It always depended if they had that particular time of day to give up their jobs in Ponyville. Yeah sure, if it involved the princess or a quest they could come and leave things behind, because of the princess help, and now being part of royalty, somewhat. Anything like an event or a gathering of boring proportions to encounter a key noble, aristocrat or elite, they usually didn’t have the time to assist. Not for lack of wanting mind you, but it wasn’t that important, and I came to the new crystal library at at dawn, unless there was another event later.
And each was no different from what I experienced on the Grand Galloping Gala. It was about ten times worse! Now it was actually my job to hear everything they say. Even Pinkie Pie had trouble coming to most of them, but I enjoyed every time I got see even one of my friends there, even if they didn't got to be themselves most of the time. And I couldn’t act as myself either.
I almost forgot, we couldn't act as our normal selves anymore in public. ‘Now you're royalty, you have to act as such’, that lofted pretending left hoofed white stallion mapper... Huh, I would really like to see what Applejack and Rainbow Dash would say if they heard him talking to me like that. Fluttershy wouldn’t know, or should I say, I wouldn’t know how she would react, after her strange acting with Discord I have no real idea where to place her. Rarity would enjoy this whole charade.
I knew Celestia had told me I needed not to worry, no noble with a right mind would do anything about her decision, especially with what I have done. But I saw it in their eyes, all concluded the princess made a wrong choice, that I was just lucky, just deep inside. Some were happy for a new princess, others didn’t care, but the weeping, complaining and whining bunch just wouldn’t accept it. Never up front though, they wouldn’t like themselves to marked as anything against the princess, now would they?
I knew they were wrong, but I wasn’t going to ruin the princess's name by not acting like a royal princess for no reason. She always made the right decisions in my mind, and I would make sure it remained unchanged.
Princess Celestia said it would be that way for a couple of weeks before it calmed down, both the talking and the need for my presence.
But worst of all, making all the last bad things shade under its horrible, dreadful mantle...
I didn’t get to read a single book since it began.
Where was I going with thi— Oh, right! Spike was saying something. I even tangent after, hah, funny. Sorry it shouldn't happen again.
“I meant the door Twilight…” Spike said with a groan. My confusion turned to embarrassed once a banging from the door got louder. In a hurry I dodged a books of foreign countries and social norms I was attempting to read in my non existent free time. I didn’t get to pass the cover.
“Yes?” I asked once I was in moderate speaking range of the door.
“Princess Twilight, Princess Celestia has requested your presence.”
‘How long did he wait outside?’ I asked myself, by his irked tone it was long enough for me to feel angst and respond without question. “I’ll be right there.”
The temporary bedroom I was staying represented big, spacious and cozy. But none could see its features with all concealed behind large towers of notes covering everything except the bed. Notes I apperently believed I could read in my sleep, harder than it sounds. Most made by my number one assistant, who was on the summit of the note tower number two, making sure all the pages are arranged from least to most important.
“Spike, the princess is calling, I—”
“Go, I’ll be fine.” Spike interrupted me grumpily, as he balanced himself looking over the pages again. I thought it was because he was too concentrated that he shushed my words, I still didn’t understand his indifference.
“Be careful with it, Spike,” I said trotting to the door, wary of the inclination of the pillar he stood on, “when you’re done you should come find me, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Spike said dismissing me. I should’ve seen Spike’s unhappiness right then, or even before. I was always distracted of what he wanted. Of what he did. He was my assistant after all, and he liked being my assistant. It gave him purpose. I thought it was all he did, and nothing more, nothing else. I can’t believe I even forgot he had friends in Canterlot when I stayed in Ponyville and he was forced to change his life because of it. I think when it happened again with our friends in Ponyville —after our last great adventure— even if it was just for some weeks, it was then when he started to catch on how much weight carried his will.
Nothing.
Not that I thought of anything at the time. There were royal duties to fulfil, which were so few and far between that I treated them all like quests given by any of the Princesses. Ha-ha, SIKE, I still couldn't feel my hoof from how much I hoofshaked last time. Though maybe now I would actually do something important? Yeah.
I opened the door hopeful and exited with a skip on my step. The two of the three guards at my door followed behind as I tracked the trail to the throne room.
The castle had been in constant visit almost every single week. So the maids, butlers and talented decorators had changed the theme each time to let visitors feel the unique experience of the Canterlot castle. The theme then was spring spread, the usual chocolate flowers placed on unique places to give the little fillies and colts going to the school for talented unicorns a little adventure on finding them all. So it wasn’t surprising to see constant movement here and there of smiling fillies and colts going around trying to find the next flower. Even with them halting to stand in wonder of the guards shepherding my annoyed person.
This obtained annoyence came from the nearby parents, maybe just caretakers, who stared and then bowed as I passed, some even smaking their heads to hard as they didn't notice me coming and thought bowing quicker would help. I said nothing but straightened myself as they did. Saying it was not necessary would have been a waste of breath. I had tried before and it doesn't work on Canterlot citizens, at least when they are not panicking. And with hope they had enough respect to not ask me to do another blessing on something, those were getting on my nerves.
The trip to the throne room was uneventful. Thankfully. Arriving at the door one of my guards —I never thought I would say that— set hoof in the room leaving me to wait for my call, I deduced the Princess had important visitors. Even though it's just to say hi, politics need to be successfully pulled off. I've learned some things that could make other ponies doubt my old self, but it was all for the good citizens to keep a clear idea of the princesses, and therefore, me.
I straighten myself, tightly tucked my wings, took a deep breath and arranged the calmest expression I could muster, royal even, those were hard. I always felt both nervous and excited when doing anything 'princes-y'. Boring or not.
I waited patiently for my call. Thankfully it wasn’t long as in less than a minute my guard entered the hallway and gave me a nod. I entered the throne room head held high.
The crowd spread on both sides of the long throne room, only allowed in when the event was news related, making me relax inside. The high nobles were the first to greet me, as much that they could say greet having their noses pointed to the ceiling and a huge pole up their... excuse me.
And of course when I enter, whispers, how could I have thought less. There was a noticeable amount of reporters and ponyrazzi's in the crowd, a picture or two was taken as I observed. It was not unusual, waiting for my wrong move or inappropriate act. Cadance told me of it's commonplace, but never at the scale of mine. I ruled Equestria for a day after all. Hiding the princess disappearance is not as easy as many would think. "Lots and lots of gossip," that was Rarity's last rundown.
Closing in the ending stairs of the throne, I give myself a metaphorical pat on the back as my deduction was right, yet again. The princesses did have unique important visitors.
Now don’t get me wrong, griffins are not unusual in Equestria, but messengers from the royalty of Griffdom were rare, more so than any other griffin related kingdom. There was… friction in between our nations, but I had yet to find out why. And it’s really something when it comes from somepony who has read entire libraries on history.
There were three of them, all with dark feathers, clear yellow fur and straight a posture. Small saddlebags were strapped in their chests and backs; where they could hold and protected the scrolls the contained. The nine guards around the throne were wary of those.
My mind wandered as I advanced gracefully. ‘Could this be another invitation or letter of congratulations? But then, why would they call me? Something important? But then why the audience? I always had issues with satiating my curiosity.
My contemplations continued as I passed by the griffin messengers, they didn’t even glance to see me. Princess Luna was next to Princess Celestia, both addressing me with a smile which I easily returned. Reaching the Sun throne, next to Princess Luna the mumbles that had subsided grew louder as I drew closer, I knew what they wanted to see. I used all my will and a little more to not bow as I passed in front of both princesses, I did nod respectfully. I was not crazy. The whispers stopped after that.
Princess Celestia spoke, giving a nod to the messengers, “Please begin."
“Alright, you know what to do.” Said the biggest of the three griffins, voice remarkably feminine. The messengers nodded at each other, swiftly pulling out something from their respective back-bags. The two back griffins brought strange candle-sized keys as the big griffin pulled a container which could be confused with a filly by its sheer dimensions. I strained my neck as many in the room, seeing as the keys clanked perfectly into place on the green container and with a simple turn cranked its inner workings and opened the canister. It was always something interesting to see advanced mechanics with no magic, yet to understand how they got things like that.
I had read that darker the color of the container, more important the message it transported, and for those that like history while reading this fact Luna implied how it was inverse when she was around long before, let that sink in. But anyways, once a strangely long scroll was released from the mysterious cylinder, the two griffins backed away as the main messenger opened the scroll with her talons, careful not to accidentally cut it and prepared her neck for a long session.
‘I’m sure it’s just some kind of summoning, it can’t be that important.’ I thought to myself again as I re-solidify my serene expression. It’s really difficult to keep up. Especially when half the glances of the crowd were directed to your face, expecting a reaction.
“Princesses of Equestria, as you should know, twenty days ago the treaty of free passage between the United Griffdom and Equestria, ended,” My calm expression almost ended, but I remained sturdy. ‘Keep calm and wait until it’s done’ I alleged to myself, I had been practicing being calm and I wasn’t going to fall so quickly. It didn’t stop my eye from giving a twitch.
“And as responsible rulers of our lands we will be always prepared to keep anything like this from becoming into a major problem, the papers of agreement should be with the messengers this letter was sent.”
I felt a breath I didn’t know I held escape me. Just a reminder, not major problem I would be responsible of. I had only a while as a full blown princess with own not-really castle and all that, and even with the last taste of responsibility, I didn’t believe I could take it again without pressure of the entire kingdom in panic. I couldn't keep calm when a simple town went nuts. But then again, that town is special.
I smiled, heart going steady, as the messenger continued. Announcing about relations, which was bad, trades, which had grown, how happy they were to trade and exchange. They were not however happy on what had happened recently to us, affecting other nations. I smiled embarrassed on that last one. Internally of course.
“The event planned shall begin in two sun cycles from the delivery of this letter, and as you know, all of the unified Griffdoms’ rules shall be there, and we intend to speak the most important subjects between us.” A round of cheers was given by the crowd of nobles and pictures were taken to capture the moment. The Princess Luna-sized griffin seemed to have concluded, taking the scroll with her talons she enrolled it slowly.
Princess Luna herself took a hoof forward to speak, “This session of important messages is at its end, you are allowed to leave immediately.”
Princess Celestia continued as if part of her sister's words, “And to the news-ponies present, I shall be with you after a brief minute.”
There was a pause, nopony stirred from place except for their eyes. I was confused for a moment until I was aware where those eyes resided. I felt a link of hairs of my tail spring out of order as I remained serene looking. But by pure weight of the stares I nodded my head and added with a cracking soft smile. “Have a nice evening.”
And after an awkward silence, the nobles, reporters and ponyrazzi’s slowly left the room, some taking a few pictures at us three together, and more fiery debating while rising their voices as they strode outside of the double doors. I remained tranquil up until the last one was out the door and I was free to loosen up a little.
I was about to ask the princesses why they had required my presence, most of what was said I already knew —by reading of course— and also due to the information sessions with the council. But the instant I saw them, confusion reached a peak with them not budging from where they stood.
Princess Celestia detected my puzzlement and motioned in front of us. I followed her guidance to the griffin messenger remained still, not even an inch from her original spot. Worse, she was in the waiting. My ears perk up as I heared a, “please continue.” From both princess as they shared a giggle from speaking out with such synchronization.
The messenger gave them a nod and from her chest bag she revealed a small black scroll container with golden patterns all over. Then I voluntarily held my breath, then glanced to Princess Celestia and Luna and saw their faces not even shift. ‘What’s going on?’ was my thought. The griffin gave a few coughed before she began to read.
“Princess Celestia of the Sun, Princess Luna of the Moon and the new Princess Twilight Sparkle of Friendship, this is an important message for your pointy ears only, its purpose is with our relation in general, and how it’s about to change, I personally told you the details of it years ago, but if you do not remember, or not informed, it is detailed in this scroll…” The messenger stopped, looking at us for confirmation. I wasn’t sure what the whole affair was so I nodded encouraging the griffin to read. Immediately feeling the boastfulness I just did I turned to the two antient rulers for their take, they looked at me as if saying "are you joking?" I retired my sight without question.
“This message’s purpose began with the expedition, one made six years ago. It took off for exploration purposes towards the unexplored space of the map disaster, one that you allowed to cross over your brothers to accomplish, it was set to return six years ago if it didn’t find anything, it was taken as failed and forgotten as you already know.”
I grimaced at the mention of the unexplored map incident, it was aware of several details from many books commonly placed under the tragedy label, called "The biggest loss of adventures ever known to ponydom.' And for good reason.
About ten years ago, there was this rumor of a place unexplored of the map no pony had even tried to explore. The notion was conveyed out by a fictional novel, an adventurer investigating the land and returning without telling a pony, but supposedly to have wrote a book before disappearing. The novel was a nice to read fiction. But the idea had so much controversy and enigmatic bases, none could refute its possibility. Not even Celestia, not that she was asked dirrecctly. Well, I did, but she didn't respond dirrectly. Like she always does. And so throughout the land, every adventurer with a ship who heard the tale flew out to be the first to discover what was there.
But there was nothing to be found, the furthermost anypony had gone was Captain Cologne Ball. Captain and mapmaker, partner of Compass Blueblood, in name of the princess both sailed with a crew for eight months in one straight course west to where it was supposed to be, but for evident lack of supplies and complaining of their stallions, sense came to their minds and they turned back. Controlling what they had left, they were able to return alive to tell the tale. They were greatly rewarded for their bravery and commitment of serving Equestria and were given permanent noble status. For better or worse.
Griffon ships wouldn’t get half the distance as they lacked any talent explicit unicorns to use magic for fuel or compasses.
“And after many times of need you allowed us, with much less than a speech, to achieve for our own research and development, and so you planted a seed, a seed of influence. Such influence had blossomed, and so, the council has considered your proposal that is as antient as I am bad at writing simple letters.”
“As you know, we are sealed out from the rest of the nations because of our position between Equestria and the eastern badlands, and by these restrictions we can do little to make our people happy, we have lots of silk, but there's so much we can feed ourselves with it, trading has been the only reason this small province is even able to florish as it has. And the people ask for more. And so, we have considered your friendship agreement treaty, that old thing mentioned by our highest proffesor and advisor, it was told to us part of Equestria but—” The rest of the message escaped from my hearing.
My eyes got wide, ‘The Treaty of Friendship’, a treaty in the foundation of Equestria itself by the three tribes, the union between nations to become an even bigger one, equal harmony to all. The combination between different nations of equine species was common in Equestria, donkeys, sheeps, cows, goats, deers etcetera, and even the recent horses from Saddle Arabia. Always equines. Or those sharing similarities.
But never a hunter’s species’ nation. Not only by differences in culture, but the values and morals taken as well, each ideal had some conflict. It was impossible to find common ground between us as a whole. The griffins in Equestria passed for an official visit and once done headed back to Griffdom, or they were complete Equestrian citizens following the rules and values of Equestria.
This could be a historical event bigger than anything not related with the princesses. Sure it would be hard but there wasn’t any book saying they have ever even considered it! And I was going to presence it as a princess.
I turned to princess Celestia, whom saw my reaction and motherly smiled, making made me realize this was why I was called. My calm expression was shattered by a grin that would match Pinkie Pie’s. I didn’t even think of why they looked as if they knew all along.
And then I noticed the messenger had stopped reading.
Glancing at her I saw the awestruck courier had fallen on her flank gawking at the scroll in her eyes as if it was on fire. I giggled a bit, I was also amazed, really surpiced, but not enough to make me stumble. I watched the other two griffons, they didn’t even flinch at the message. My first thought was ‘Perhaps she wasn’t ready for that?’
I heard Luna giggle besides me and say, “Sister, it seems that the emissary has caught her own tongue." I saw Celestia’s right brow rise at Luna’s observation, and somewhat roll her eyes. Those kinds of jokes were unique for Luna and hopefully only her. Grim.
I was about to try calm her, until she abruptly wobbled her head changing her awestruck into pure seriousness. It startled me a little. She ogled at the griffin at her left, gesturing with her talon for him to come near her. He hesitated, watching us three confused princesses before slowly closing in to the messenger.
I was bemused as confused to why she would call her partner. It was not like with another griffin reading would make the words change, the union was happening. But the thought wiped out by the pale look on the new griffin reading the scroll. He gently nodded and backed away. The messenger turned to address us three.
“Is something wrong?” Asked Princess Celestia with her worried but controlled voice.
The griffin coughed loudly, almost nervously, and straightened herself once more into a respectable posture.
“It caha—“ The griffin lost part of her breath, but before anypony in the room could say anything she raised a talon to stop us, and back on posture she said loud and clear.
“It came back.”
And so I frowned.
“In this letter it is stated that the FUG sailor, after six years of its two month quest of exploring the uncharted map, fulfilled its duty, and returned back safely.”
“Princess Celestia, Princess Luna…did…did you hear the same as me?” I asked. Sure to have misunderstood. The princess had their heads tilt as I was sure they thought the same.
“Discoveries made will forever change the view of our realm, and due to this, we are ready to renegotiate every treaty made between our countries, and as a sign of good faith we are to share what we have discovered with those that helped us achieve it. Equestria, as well as others.”
Now it was the princess’s time to frown.
My eyes couldn’t widen more if they tried. There was something there, confirmed to have nothing. My only thought, 'Impossible!' But they claimed it true on an official document... so it couldn’t be a lie. By then I needed a place to sit down.
"What is the meaning of this? Lying to our faces." Princess Luna said loudly for the messengers to hear, and those outside the castle, creating three nervous messengers. “You expect us to believe such a thing? We have had our own pioneers sent to the unknown, they accomplished to barely return assuring nothing was there, and if yours were to have explored for that long, how would they too have survived? A cargo could be made to hold food only would not make it over one year, much less four months.” Princess Luna said in a tone that could only be described as unfriendly, I was automatically nodding at each conclusion she got. But the way she said it… it sounded dangerous. Making me even doubt calling out how she had technically nothing to do with the pioneers as she claims, but thanks to my better judgment I restrained myself.
"Sister," Celestia initiated, touching Luna’s leg with her hoof, "let them finish and maybe then you will get your answer." Luna looked at Celestia, and then she stared long and hard at the messenger before coughing to her royal hoof. She was annoyed, that much was evident. Princess Celestia shifted her eyes to the griffins, "please continue."
They remained unmoving a couple of seconds before the messenger even begun to see the scroll.
“The details of our achievement shall be presented to you at the harmony celebration in which we shall converse of this matter.” I could hear Luna huff, she was not pleased, neither was I. “And you should know you are not the only ones helping us in our journey, so those that helped us are to be present as well, this was a united effort of course, your old friend, Queen Silver Peak.”
The female messenger relaxed as she finished the letter, I was about to ask about who else was in the ‘united effort’, which caused the griffin to flinch as I got closer, until I remembered that it was a written letter.
With the message done, the griffin messengers marched to leave, one faster than others, but the biggest one got closer to the guards next to the exit and gave him the scrolls for us to possibly re-read. A couple of guards followed them to escort them out the castle.
What would make one of the most traditional nations of our realm, a predator nation nonetheless, unite with Equestria? I understood they said it was due restrictions and our help, but they had those for many years. What had changed? What could they have possibly found that would make this decision acceptable for them now? How they would've even gotten that far to begin with? My pretty little mind got to work, a pain to think as it was impossible to answer questions until they were here to ask them.But those were only the tip of the iceberg with questions flowing in my head. It had been a while since I got that curious.
After the long day I needed some sleep, and a good book. Especially the book, I didn't care about the schedu— oh, what am I saying? The schedule was sacred. But a new book wouldn't have hurt.
“Twilight.” My ears amplified Celestia’s call, trying to turn with grace and class. But to the viewer I twisted so mechanically it could make small foals laugh thinking I was a bad mime. It did make both princesses smile though. “How are you feeling?”
“What do you mean Princess, I am perfectly fine.” I said with unintentional wincing on part of my ears and eye, I couldn’t stop those. And to the princesses cringing looks I understood it was evident. “That bad, huh?”
“Truly, I have seen kuduses have the same troubles, but they were hunted daily or their horns a long time ago, so it must be stress.” Luna said honestly, but it was so bluntly I was in pure. Celestia looked at Luna, disappointed. It would take two days for Luna to notice how bad it was, but for now she looked uncertain.
“I say, it isn’t that bad.” A new, familiar and annoying voice added itself to our conversation making us three deadpanned. At least I found it annoying after hearing it day and night and every time I did something silly and no one saw. But he saw, he always saw. May it be Celestia almost tripping, Luna accidentally sending a pony to prison or me being a statue around nobles, he was always there.
“Discord.” We said in sync.
“Hello, your highnesses!” Discord appeared in the entrance of the throne room, upside-down, and with a sickly colorful looking pony in between his grasps. “I seem to have missed something important. There was a whole herd of the little fellas outside the room with little fun in their lives.”
Discord, reformed embodiment of chaos. Body a combination of talon, paw, left hind hoof, right dragon leg, left griffin wing and right dragon wing. That alone gave the idea of what kind of creature Discord was. Erratic.
“Discord. What did you do?”
“Wow, are you three trying for a quartet? I don’t think it works without the fourth one. And even if Cadance is nowhere near to help you, no need not to worry! I can be the replacement!” Before we could say otherwise Discord snapped his claw the pony disappeared with a yell and Discord wore a strange looking outfit of stripes of red including a hat, a moustache on his face I remembered to find every time I made a particular spell. Or Pinkie Pie acting Pinkie.
With our collective stares he chuckled enthusiastically. “I simply walked through the crowd, none tried to stop me or talk to me. It’s funny really, when I moved they flinched. But as promised, no scaring or fainting.” We kept looking Discord in the eye, not amused. “Fine, I scared one or two, but they were gaping at my tail and you know how sensitive I am.”
“You are?”
“No.” Discord answered me as he chuckled at my change from stoic to curious to deadpan again. “Oh, aren’t you princesses a treat. I shall leave and come back once the party is started. Ta ta—Oh! But what kind of low voice of the quartet I would be if I didn’t give a last lone goodbye note~”
But before Discord could commence his musical number, Princess Celestia shined her horn and teleported him away. I huffed with amusement when I heard a distant ‘you are no fun’ echo through the castle.
“Well, I will need help calming and talking to the agitated visitors. So who is coming with me?” Princess Celestia asked walking up to the door, turning to look at me and Luna.
Luna and I glanced at each other for a moment. And I recalled a game Pinkie had shown us both on how to select the carrier of bad acts between friends in a fair manner. And if there was anything in the glister of Princess Luna’s eyes, she remembered as well.
“Not it!” “Not— oh darned it all.”
“Don’t worry my sister. They're still are fond of your presence.”
“Yes, as fond as a worm is to meet a bird on its home.”
“Come, sister. Twilight, is there anything you would like to ask of the meeting? I know you have questions.”
“Oh, well, I do! But I can ask them another time. I need to refresh the captain Cologne’s statement and then I will make sure I have all the theories of the OutSpace on a list, and after—“
“You don’t have to tell me step by step Twilight, I trust you know what to do.” I nodded happily. “Good luck..”
“Thanks Princess.” My happy reply was not reciprocated as Celestia and Luna looked at me with a frown. I was confused to say the least. “What?”
“Twilight, you are a princess as well. When alone, please call all us by name.” I nodded not sure if it was right. It was not that big of a deal, I knew, but calling the princesses by name… It didn’t feel right.
It was a hard habit to get rid of, but with full will upon it, it was relatively easy. “Good Night, Celestia, Luna.”
“Goodnight Twilight.” “Good Night Twilight Sparkle, may I not need to help thy dreams.”
I laughed nervously at Luna’s… goodbye but I did notice Luna becoming a little happier once I called her by name as she had a little more energy as she trotted for the door. ‘Is it such a big deal?’
But the day wasn’t over. I was going to look under every stone and leaf for any rumor, statement or legend holding the truth. And I thought the meeting was a deal big enough to get all my friends to assist. All I needed to make sure is to send the letter on time and wait.
I was not as desperate to see my friends as I make myself sound to be I— Oh forget it, yeah I was as desperate as I make myself sound to be, in more ways than one. What can I say, I got used to something and by all that is good I wasn't going to let it go. Not that I would admit it— Sorry, not that 'I' would admit it. But back to the telling.
But, I don't think hearing of me rounding around in the castle would be entertaining in any way. And I did check, Spike didn't do anything of interest either. My friends were too far away and the princesses were doing too many political talks to be stimulating. So I kept myself to reading an open book and passed the time until something started happening.
This is, as you know, the week where it began. And even before it started, in the morning, it was bad. Heh.
.̓̌ͫ̌̃͏̯̙͝.̨͒̎̐̃̐҉̥.̴̙̯̫͛ͥ
Huh? Oh, yeah! I do remember that night. But shamefully I wasn’t inside the castle. I was more interesting to watch what happened on the forest, right?
.̡̹͓͖̻͎̪̝̱͌̊ͪ.̩̳̟̳͛̌̔̆̾́͆͐͠.̬̖̤̦̞̼̰̉ͦ̅ͅ
What, you didn’t see it?
...
Ha! You neither? Wow, I can see why you two like to hide so much. It feels powerful.
...
.̴̦̥̤̜͖͉̺̅ͧ̈̾.̖͓̠̖̗͖ͦ̚ͅ.̘͖͎͚͖̬̆͗̕
Alright, alright, don’t need to get worked up about it… well…
First to notice was the night sky. A lovely wonder for those that could observe it. Many would say its unique beauty has conveyed much more than simple visible features. Thoughts, dreams, and concepts, you name it, but of course in reality the same sky can bring so much more. And this idea couldn’t have been truer that night.
White Tail woods. A forest whose name was placed by its founder, was known to be an abode of peaceful slumber for beings of many sizes. Its natural trees would only grow when helped to do so, its weather would change when commanded to do so, and its residents would always be sure to hear those that cared for the forest said.
But this night was different, dangerously so.
Smoke was the first sign of trouble, the night sky easily blending with it. Only careful small creatures in trees could catch its foul smell and obscure coloration as it blocked stars from the sky, the light of the moon barely helped its vision. But for those at the place of birth of the smoke, there was no denying it. The White Tail forest was on fire.
The dangerous night began violently. A collosal shake snapped the whole forest awake, all big and small. Those whom saw the forest fire were already far away from the place of growth of the heated savage, or stayed in wonder of its bright and warmth. Never had they seen such a thing, and it’s true that curiosity could be ones doom, but certain group of critters that were observant of the flame were not curious of its bright form, or abnormality, but by its fuel.
Fire, glass, steel and blood, made the scene. Only the fire enjoyed the moment, rising with the soft wind and spreading through the green grass. Not even the trees were safe, those which were already broken were effortlessly consumed and helped made the wildfire grow. The creatures continued to stare, some with an expression of worry, and there was an obvious reason why, if listened carefully.
The sound in the night was of the wind blowing, the flames crackling and groans of pain rising from between the chunks of steel. Some creatures attempted to help whichever critter of the forest was in the blaze, trying to clear a path, and once that failed, trying to look for the over-watchers of the forest. But it looked as if they wouldn’t make it in time as the great first watcher was nowhere to be found.
That of course was until the strange being stood from inside the inferno.
It was as strange as it was tall, fire blocking from any actual observation. For any small creature that watched as it rose from the pieces and stood in two legs, it would be forever a miracle that none wanted to be too close to see. It seemed to contemplate its surrounding, as if in marvel, right in the middle of the flame.
As if it just considered its predicament, the thing ran, but in the wrong direction. Entering in between the pieces of steel instead of leaving the burning space, it searched. And only those animals with a tuned hearing that could overcome the roar of the flames could understand why.
There were more cries for help.
And thanks to those cries it became a bigger surprise when the creature pulled not another creature like itself, but a small red cylinder. Many watched in confusion as to what it was, and some thought the poor bipedal was ‘co-coos’ or just cared for the tube more. At least until the being grasped the red cylinder’s tip.
The red cylinder was neither a toy nor a treasure, it was a vessel, a vessel that contained the breath of winter. The voice howled in the night, making everything it touched part of its cold season, wherever it touched. Including the infernal flame.
The creature holding the vessel was thorough, not leaving a spot untouched by the cold voice. Covering every alcove and fissure until all was concealed in strange snow and mist of cold.
Once done, it left such an impressive connection with a whole season spirit, fall hastily on the now snowy grass. Heading back again in the twisted steel, surely searching for its pack.
And it was successful, as it consecutively pulled about three like itself, all still impossible to see by the curious creatures, but now by a mystical mist instead of a terrifying danger. The recently rescued tall beings seemed to ask the first to find the nearest hill and scale it, whichever was said, it did the last anyway.
The unknown nature of things was too much for some of the residents of White Tail woods, mainly on the young and the squirrels. One in particular, Snuggles, as the guardians of the forest had named him, carrying himself with pride as he was the one brave enough to meet every creature in the forest without missing one, and this would be no different for him, no matter how scared he was.
Snuggles made a dash to the first being as it carried itself in two legs to the nearest hill. The being stumbled now and then, obviously unbalanced. Snuggles followed, sure to keep his distance until he was seen to make contact. And once it reached the top of the hill the thing looked at the looming smoke, following its trail.
In curiosity, Snuggles did the same, and following the being’s direction of sight. He noticed the separating nature of the smoke, and following the trail with his head he reached the smoke’s destination.
Snuggles tilted his tiny head.
It was the beautiful white rock, all the way up on the side of a mountain. Snuggles had seen over-watchers entering it now and then. Snuggles had seen it many times before. Its white colored smooth stone and yellow tops, its high columns and twisted earthworks, its destroyed rock towers and falling rubble—
Snuggles made a double take.
Undoubtedly, the beautiful structure was missing one of its beautiful white rock towers, pieces of it fell due to the nature of its location. The strange formed white rock, which was unnatural by itself already, was half destroyed. Exactly where the smoke made contact with it. And as if to add to his thoughts there was a continuos tickle on Snuggle’s ear, it didn't take much thought to recognize its purpose.
Laughter.
Snuggles searched for the source, and to his horror, he found it. It was the new being, its shoulders were trembling with how hard it was laughing. By that moment Snuggles wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet it anymore. But before he could give a paw back, a flash from the destroyed towers of the white rock stopped him on his tracks, almost blinding him.
It took him some time to dare look again, but when he did, he didn’t know if he was permanently affected by the light, or he was still sleeping in his leaf bed. He could have sworn by his tiny eyes, that a side of the rock structure was missing completely.
A little shiver moved up Snuggle’s small spine, feeling he was being watched.
Slowly turning his head, he looked at the being, scared for his life.
The being was no longer there.
All bravery gone, Snuggles decided it was time to leave.
But it was not to be.
Snuggles collided hard. A little squeak escaping as he stumbled forward. He was already scared out of his little mind, but then he turned. Looked up.
And his blood ran cold.
It was the being. A smile spreading from side to side on its disturbing looking pale face, barely with any fur, and black marks from the fire it has recently been inside of, covered in shadow. Its eyes were small but sharp, reflecting with the little light the night had, looking deep into Snuggles' existence.
"Well, who’s next?" Twilight said in the darkness. The others were there, that much she knew, and that's all that mattered.
.̙͓͕͓̲͇̞̅̊̔ͦͮ.̶̮̻̇́ͥ͐̆̂̂͡͠.͑̃̔͂͛̐ͪͦ҉̸͈̭̟̮͈
"Ah, of course, Cristal, right? Sorry for asking, I just sometimes forget your name, I mean, you tell me it's spelled with an I instead of a "Y"and it just sounds weird to me. He-he."
.̪̥̮̻̣̻̽̃ͦ̔ͧ̔.͊̊̉͏̸͓̰̣̞͇̱.̜̟͌͂̒̽ͤ̒
"Alright, fine, get yourself calm, I'm not looking for... much trouble? Heh." Twilight remained in the static nothing, expecting something to respond back, and recieving nothing, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, tell your story, think of anything, I can wait. It's not like we're going anywhere in a while."
Has anyone in the room ever been in love? Terrible feeling isn’t it? I despise love myself. It makes you so fragile, so easy to be tricked; played with. It opens your essence and by that alone you should know that special someone can mess you up inside out. You learn in life how to harden your fur, keep words like water to rock, just no pain from anyone. But then all it takes it one bonehead, no different that all others you have met, just pops into your life like nothing… And without a second guess, you offer them a part of you. He didn’t ask for it. He just did something weird that day... give you hope, a smile, and then your life is not yours to control. Not anymore…
Love is a foulnapper, and it has no mercy. Eats your hopes and makes them worthless, just crying out for something more, just its light touch. But it only takes one phrase, one gesture of strangeness to your petition. One glance looking at you in confusion and fear as to what you had even suggested. But then you brush it off, a joke you call it, you do those all the time. He may feel something different this time, but if you’re good enough, he will never even tell.
It hurts… so bad… Not just the idea that it can’t happen, but the clue that not even he wants it to begin with. It just makes life not worth anymore. It turns you to the shreds you knew you would become if you ever spoke of this to even your family.
I despise love...
Sorry, I got carried out there, anything on your minds? Another story perhaps?
...
Yes... and no, not going to talk about it and I don't need to talk about it.
...
True...
...
Sure, each one swells details into it like puzzles. Telling a story we already know is no fun. And by all that is good, we need show biz here. And it wouldn't hurt if you ignored my jabbering, I was just thinking of the past. Ignore me.
So... where to start? Maybe from when I got… no, even before that. A happy day. I was happy at least, haven’t discovered how life works yet, ironically something I had been trying to do for some time. The day was actually set in motion by a visit from a friend of mine... alright, don’t get any ideas, it has nothing to do with my babbling, okay? But for anywho, I knew something was going to happened when the day started a little rougher than normal.
“WAKE UP!” A loud screech resounded through my ears like a bat in a cave, then I felt something soft stike my head in an unusually strong fluffy matter.
“Hhgggrrr…” I groaned in denial and excesive need to sleep, the sun trying to look me in the eyes, I gave it no such pleasure.
The day was cold, as usual, and as most days for me they were always brought by an irritating voice and a soft blow to the head. But it didn’t bother me more than your average Kim, the feeling of everything under silk blanket being warm against everything cold outside was cuddling-pillow worthy. My room was always cold in the morning, the grass on the floor is not exactly a frost distributer. Wooden roof and walls didn't help either, just understand that the inside of a trees are always freezing unless you have magic or something more advanced. At least the windows were uncovered from the dried wheat curtines which allowed the sun to heat the bedroom.
And that's how I like it. But wake up a little later wouldn't have been bad.
“Are you ever going to wake up by yourself?” I gave a sigh as my cousin asked for what I thought was the thousandth time. Every single morning she woke me up, the same question came out of her beak, and it was getting into my nerves. A little variety wouldn’t hurt anygriffin.
“How… late is it?” I asked, but my voice left me as my best friend, "the warm bed," called me to join him in slumber, I happily complied, only to be whipped out of the mood again with that condemned pillow.
“Hey! No sleeping. Ma was going to lure you on after-dawn, you know? With soup or books? But your friend arrived so pick your sorry excuse of a firm flank off the bed.” She said confidently with emphasis on "friend," and at the end with a hint of, irritation? I don’t remember. I felt the pillow go back to the top of my head, forcing me to respond.
“That… wasn’t my query...” I said weakly and with a hint of drama, not even bothering to struggle. My fluffy enemy gave no mercy as it smacked me repeatedly until my eyes were forced to be opened.
“Oh, right, it’s about half dawn.” She answered honestly embarrassed and— aha! She did have a hint of irritation. Not stopping her pillow onslaught though I groaned in the loss of my sleep, raising from my comortable sleeping stubor to an uncomfortable position, hitting hard into the cold morning air with a well deserved puff of feathers and silk to the face.
“Are… they all in the kitchen?” I asked as soon as the piillow felt me speak. Rubbing my eyes with the leaves of my bed, the fluff on those things were really itchy.
“Well, Torqued was sent on his way to learning, so it’s only you, me, Aunt, Dad and your Copper.” She said rather loudly, there was something in that sentence bothered me, obligating me to stop attempting to sleep. And before I could say anything she continued. “And yes, they’re on the table.”
I nodded at that. Reaching then for my nickeled clothes and cap from the side the alluring Orion leaf-bed, I direct myself to the family bathing room. On my way an unusual aglomeration of feathers laid in front of Spear's bedroom door, at the end of the hall. Molting was the word that hopped happily into my mind as I recalled biology, and geez did I love those times of all day group readings. With only two readers. No wonder she acted as if her feathers were ruffled. These type of effects reminded me why I was thankful of not having wings myself.
Without missing a peep I forced myself to place my nickeled cap in the bathing-room door knob and entered assured that anyone trying to enter could see I was there, again. It gets annoying to forget the simple, and remember the not even close subjects. But at the time I was getting better at keeping things in mind.
The waking up bathing routine was basically burned into my core: Go to bathroom, make sure the water is warm, put clothes near edge of stream, wash coat in stream until its natural sky blue colour is visible, leave stream, find brush, comb fur, try to clear any wild locks attempt to make home in tail, and finally dump head inside stream several times before using the comb against my brown mane. The last being the hardest part.
With myself fully awake and in the longest step of my routine, I got a few head free minutes to think about Copper in my home, especially now so early at dawn. Something was bugging me, I didn’t know what at the time.
But of course my thoughts always ended up in why he was here, our project was halted by the queen herself. So, ‘what is he here for?’ And that was the only question I could think of, the possibilities of the answer alone gave me more will to finish my mane faster.
With my mane combed I made my way to my clean clothes near the door, it’s hard to dress with no help, talons make things much easier, but I don’t take long before exiting and taking my cap from the doorknob I head to the now very vivid kitchen with expectation written all over my face. And once I entered, a familiar scene greeted me.
At the table was the group I loved most and knew best: my best friend Copper, Uncle or Uncle Lance, whichever he felt like, Ma and little cousin Spear. They all had a serious case of bad feathers surely from Spear’s recent molting. Copper looked fine though, —brown feathers, brown fur, brown wings— with a brown background he could hide for days without losing. I really disliked playing hide and seek with him when smaller. But even old memories didn’t stop me from glancing at his side, still with a piece of fur growing anew.
The kitchen, like my room, was grassy all around and with walls of the inside of a tree, but this particular room was connected to the living room, the front door and the back exit. We used river rocks, the ones that are smooth, to blockade the doors in case water decides to make a visit. The sink, made out of marble and with a small stream that continued to flow without end, had left over plates, only one, surely my mother's.
I deduced Copper was speaking to everyone in his usual fashion: very hard moral, philosophical and psychological debates that would make anyone listening uncomfortable, except for me of course. My uncle was proving my hypothesis with his very wide polite nervous smile as he tried to find anything or anyone to finish the conversation.
And of course, that was me.
“Oh, there she is!” My uncle said upon seeing me, rapidly patting the spot next to him, between him and Copper. Everyone else in the room had noticed me by now.
“Ya' just can’t stop looking cute, can ya’ Clear?” Copper commented the moment I arrived to my Uncle's side, the side that made him sigh in disappointment as he was still next to Copper. I rolled my eyes on his words, but the smile on my face only grew bigger.
“Good to see you too, Copper.” I reply with a slick smile as my Ma placed a pre-dawn meal ready to eat on my presence, the usual fruit, and meat to the side, I muttered a thanks. Couldn't escape getting my mane corrected with one pass of her talon, like always, I said nothing from how tiresome was fighting about it. “So what has happened that you couldn’t wait till after-dawn to tell me?”
“I’ll tell ya’ after ya’ eat a little, I don’t want to make ya’ lose a meal, do I?”
I give him a look, but I nodded anyway. We all sat with our respective things to do, Copper and Lance continued their discussion, to my uncle’s dismay, and my Ma already finished eating so she was now re-checking Spear’s feathers for the ones that needed to be taken off, to Spear’s embarrassment. And I was silently eating and hoping once I was done I would get my answer right away.
Ma had other things in mind.
“Honey-bear,” My Ma started still on my cousin’s feathers, making me lose my train of thought as I glanced at her, “do you remember the times you were on those exploration missions with Copper?”
“Yes?” I answered questionably, Copper raised his sight at the sound of his name making my uncle sigh. I already told her everything about those trips, especially the last, the good and the bad. Well... not everything, I don’t think anyone would tell everything to their mothers. I was truthfully curious of what she could want to know now.
“That one mission which took a long time to complete—” ’Oh not this again,’ I thought, frustration clear on my face. No pun intended. The subject was very touchy as my uncle’s and cousin's breathing changed tone subtly to a nervious one. They know the kind of throat me and my mother can use to express our destain for the way I do secrecy, and she to discover it. Thankfully, Copper took this one for me.
“Sorry, Icy Trident, ma’am, but ya’ know we can’t talk about that kind of—”
“I know what can and can’t be said dear, now let me finish.” My Ma interrupted back with an "I know more than you child" kind of look. Copper slowly closed his beak and my Ma continued. “I was going to ask now that you’re both here, because Cristal here is not very good at sharing, what did you two see in your way there? Did you go site seeing, shopping?” I was confused at her claim at first, but then the suspicious pause made my eyes narrow a little in thought as I gazed at her. And then she drifted her eyes to look at me. “Talked?”
And, then I remembered why I didn’t like to have Copper home, and if Spears's snickering was any guess she did as well. 'Just like old times, huh Ma?' But as usual, Copper was oblivious.
“Well, we can’t say much about what we saw when we got there, Cristal being all shutty with it has its reasons, but we had our books, but it didn't distract us from watching imposing mountains, rivers and one of those so called trainees, the ones that go on an iron and wood road? Yeah, those. We chatted a lot about everything we were going to do when we came back home, didn’t we, Clear?”
“Yes, yes we did.” I answered Copper, but I wasn't looking in his direction, I was glaring hard at my lovely mother with a gaze ripping to her the phrase. "Knock. It. Off", she returned with a sneer and with an innocent, ‘what?’
“And what did you two talk about? It’s hard to find a discussion between such a young male griffin as yourself and a mare like Cristal, am I right Copper?” She said inoffensively, the intention was obvious in her face. Her smile widened as my nose huffed to emphasize how disagreeable her actions were.
“Oh, not hard really, ya’ already know we’ve known each other for years, Miss Trident.” Garrison answered truthfully, and I needed to put an end to it. Even my uncle gathered wind of what was going on as his face twisted from confusion to a knowing deadpan. “We talked about different things that are taboo mostly, they were the most interesting, at least the only type of books we had were selective on their subjects, Cristal felt bad about it, but it was an interesting talk. She really liked them. The kind of meat sold at the pubs here, the stereotypes of species, about interspecies relatio—“
“Wasn’t it important what you needed to tell me, Copper?” I said quickly, trying to avert the situation with a face so red it might be confused with a cherry. My dearest mother must have been having a cheer attack ready with that smile only a mother could give, my cousin and uncle were too into giggles and talon face scratching respectably to say anything.
“Oh right!” Exclaimed Copper, I looked at my mother, with a glance of ‘Don’t. Speak. A. Sentence.’ She responded with one that said ‘this isn’t over’ emphasizing with her talon at me and a smile, Copper didn’t perceive our exchange, or saw it as normal, I really didn't know what he knew.
“I came to tell ya’ you’re finally going to get the interview.” Copper said happily. Everyone in the room responded with curious looks, me with confusion and my colour got somewhat back to normal.
“Interview?” I asked.
“Interview.” Copper confirmed cryptically.
“Copper, I don’t get what you mean, what interview?”
“The one that will give ya’ answers.” He finished with a wide grin.
Now, I’m not a slow mare, quite the contrary in fact, but I could confirm to anyone who asked, it took me an absurd while to decipher what Copper meant. But when I did, I couldn’t contain myself.
I gave the most feminine girlish squeal I have ever done in my entire life, ran towards a surprised Copper, which dictaded that I hop on top of the table to reach the other side, and using my fore-hooves I hugged his existence to the point it was not even funny, not caring for the stumbled table or my cousin’s ruined feathers. Spinning with the speed of a whirlwind, squealing all the way, I was the happiest mare in town, which is easy being the only pony in town. And I would do it again if I had the chance.
I didn't give him time to react, releasing my captive I galloped to my room as fast as I could, muttering the words "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," over and over again. At the moment of entering I slipped and crashed under my Orion leaf-bed to find one thing and one thing only.
Searching between all my reports, research and Equestrian-Griffin history books, I found it. Concealed in a small red case of clear distinction, dust all over.
I took a deep breath, silently in suspense. There were many bugs that simply loved paper in these parts, and I have neglected it all the time I had returned back home. Or it could be covered in dust. What did I know?
I carefully opened the small chest, the amount of dust greeted me was luckily small. I made sure it wasn't deteriorated or worse, by raising the huge amount of scroll paper pieces clapped together by small nails and wiped the front page with a hoof, making sure the title was still readable, as well as the signatures. Well, it did have a few marks of decay and some dust molded with the paper, but it was still readable, and that was enough.
I felt a talon reach my mane, now I became aware of my lacking cap that must've left me in some point in between my squealing, I looked up to see Copper with a cheesy smile, his head feathers were a little rattled. I smiled back embarrassed, and like always, it did that strange squeeing noise. I've grown acostumed to it.
“Not so fast Clear,” Copper said voice going grim with his smile going a little sad, I didn’t like it, and at the moment I think I knew why he had it, “there's more to it, come I got to explain everything as we go to the library."
He reached for a couple of the books I took out and looked at me in the eye as he continued, “Bring all the forbidden ones, and we also need to talk to Ashley and tell her the good news.”
“Yeah,” I said ears touching the sides of my head, “do you think she’s mad by not visiting her for so long?”
“Oh, certainly! She must be furious! I mean, mad as a Cassowary!” Copper said lightheartedly and ending with his distinctive chuckling matter. It didn’t help my worries.
With important books on his back and a mission on his mind Garrison gave a nod and left through the still opened wooden door. Leaving me to hold everything I thought important and think of what he had said.
This was what I had wished for a long time, and I would finally get it, even if it will be controlled for reasons I was not being told, I finally got it. I smile involuntarily as all the questions come back into my mind. So much to consider, so little time.
An opportunity to speak with the oldest creatures known to the land of Equestria, doesn’t come every day.
“Clear, are ya’ coming or not?” I overheard Copper's voice coming from the kitchen.
“Calm down I’m coming!” Making sure I was carrying the document with a holder covering it from my teeth, I deduced I would need another bag to carry them all, so I made my way through the hall to the kitchen to find said item. Just before leaving I added the tests I was making and the corrected reports on the collection, if I was to come out I was not going to do it more than once. At the kitchen Copper was packing the books he took in his bag, until he saw the papers on my mouth.
“What’s that?” He asked, I didn’t have to answer, not that I could. I left the document gently on the messy table as the things I brought to the grass floor. They needed organizing to be transported easily. Only after a glance of sorry on my part did my family look at the papers on the table.
“Haven’t seen you take that thing out ever since you brought it.” My Ma said as she looked at the only obviously weird print in the document, and maybe the most noticeable. I smiled as I search with gusto for a nickeled bag I was sure I had placed somewhere under the back exit rocks, I always lost those when I search late at night for a quick meal since I work late.
The paper was of high quality, a paper for royal documents or treaties, not griffin made, which was unique on itself. A hoof was printed in ink at the down right side, next to a talon. But the last one printed in ink was the real eye puller.
The third imprint, a unique print, has never been seen before in the land. It was basically a square with four thin branches on top and a bad branch at its right side. So full of detail as if it was drawn by thousands of quills at a time; lines making curves like waves of an ocean especially in the tips of each digit in which they swirl into impossible angles to make one solid body of ink. If it wasn’t for the splash of black which toned its exterior, it would be thought to be art made after hours of skilled attempts. I remember what Ashley called it.
A handprint.
“Got it!” I exclaimed finding a nickeled bag and swiftly entering everything on the floor onto it. With another happy exclamation I swung the bag into place, and then regretted it as it slammed hard to my back.
“Wait, you’re going out?” My Ma asked with a hint of hope. I roll my eyes and nodded. She was ecstatic. “Let me get my hat and list so we can all get going!”
“Ma, this is about the mission thing I can’t tell you about. We need to go to the secret facility and I don’t think you are allowed in.” I didn’t dislike my mother, the contrary actually. But recently on that time, Ma had been a little too forceful on putting me in situations I was not comfortable with. Getting out of the house was a battle she did daily against me. I always won of course. But again. She was very sneaky with her methods.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll get something on the road and scolt you there. You’ll not even know I’m around. Besides, Copper is already loaded with those books and I don’t think he can take you.” At the mention of Copper his wings flicked. Copper didn’t like being reminded he was born with wings too weak. I gave a stern look for that, she may have confused it with stubborness.
“We can walk.”
“All the way to the library? Through the bottom of the forest?”
“The facility is on a open hill. It has stairs for a reason.”
“But flying is so much easier. Copper can follow easy from the upper forest with the flyway, with me taking the heavy things.”
“It’s better this way, Ma.” I didn’t even let her continue the discussion as I was out the door, running and jumping the outside rock fence. Copper followed after giving a goodbye, flapping quickly and taking flight once out the door.
The forest was gloomy, cold, and misty. A place I called home and loved to be in. The trees were as high as one could stress their neck to appreciate, and were wide as homes, because they were homes. But you could never see above the first lower branches, blocking the sun, heat, and view. The chilling air made my breath appear before me, reminding me of my days of youth and wonder where I left for the library to meet Garrison every day. The mysteriously wet morning grass lightened my senses through my hooves and giving me a smile that came with faster trotting.
Garrison didn't enjoy the mornings as I did, the cold air making harder his already difficult flying. I always wondered why he tried to fly when he obviously couldn't, he would get hurt because of it.
I mechanically advanced through the forest, everything based on memory, Garrison followed. Passing rows and rows of living quarters after living quarters. Houses which seemed part of the giant trees or the trees themselves, some of two levels or three. All with a small fence of rock or wood showing the limits of the owned land.
But besides obvious living residences, there was not a single other griffin on the old stony road to tell the place was anything other than a ghost town, but I knew the truth. Every now and then any pass byer could see it. A wooden stairwell in every two trees passed, showing a way to raise to the second floor of the city, but to me it wasn't necessary.
After about four groves passed in between my frequent glances at Copper, I saw him heaving. I didn’t feel the physical exercise, but didn’t complain as we stopped. Copper muttering a thanks once he fell on the grassy-stony floor, wasted of strength.
“Well, are we far enough to normally walk now?” Copper asked huffing as he turned to look at me from his laid, upside down, position. I almost smacked myself on the head by not thinking I was the reason for the flying. The cold floor helped his wings, but he did show things hard not to stare at. I really disliked nudity. Feeling the need to take a cold bath I glanced away as I responded.
"You could trot, you know?" I said with a smile looking at the apperently infinete rows of trees, just as I settled down on the grass besides him.
"I will, once I get my wings in shape." He said flapping his wings and wincing at the strain. I flinched when he did; like if I could feel how he got hurt all over again. But then my head, as I was acostumed to, reminded me of things I would not remember in this kind of situation, but again, it was useful information.
"Are we actually going to meet the princesses of Equestria?" I asked with as much subtlety as the sun is from keeping its presence unknown. Not much. Copper coughed out a laugh, you know the kind when you hear it. The "expect that question" style.
“Took ya' long enough.” He said, opening and closing his wings, just to keep them in motion. “That’s pretty much it. But as ya' should know, we’re not in our own reasons as we would like to be.”
“I can understand. It’s because of Ashley, right?” Copper nodded, throwing a talon to the grass and pulling it back while dragging some grass with it, I was told griffins did that while nervous, or in deep thought. Like ponies flicking their tails, or scraping their hoofs with the floor.
“Yeah, she'd been doing real work. The only one that bothers me is how now she's talking all three styles of speech. Equestrian, native griffin, and whatever it was that she'd spoken with in the first place. Six years for something that took me and ya' all our lives. I can feel it's not even fair." Garrison was never this talkative of things, but when it came to Ashley he was always loose on information. I believe it was caused by some form of jealousy, or something in those lines. "She asked for ya' every chance she got though."
“Yeah… but she knew I wasn’t part of anything big when she came with us. So I can’t help in anything political. Unless it's teaching their childrien how to do math or remember their own history before they become snobs.”
"You got the tests with ya?"
"Uhuh."
“That's efficience, at least Ashley will still love ya for that. But I think she was more inclined by her whole country wanting to know what was out here.” Right at that moment Copper passed his talon over my sholder, inclining his head over mine. “But ya' shouldn’t make yourself be so low in anything when it comes to influence. Ya' still had that little encounter with the queen when you came back.”
“Please, don’t remind me.”
“So, ya' regret hoofing her face in?”
“Not at all.” Copper padded me in the head, he does that a lot. I could only blush, but then deathpan as he used my head as a way to lift himself from the grass. He did smile when he helped me up of course.
“So, can ya' walk slowly for me to get a hang into flying again?”
“This is my Ma we are running away from.”
“Then why are we trying again?”
“If we get to a certain distance, there is no reasonable motive for her to ‘help me’ get there.”
“How far is that?” I could feel Copper’s silent curses as he stretched his old wound, they cured well but the time passed recuperating had made him even weaker. It was hard not to stare at it. A patch of fur lighter than the rest, as big as a talon; like something had pushed a wooden pole inside through his fur and skin, not like it wasn't close to that. I bit my lower lip to not say anything, he hated that, as I stood as well.
“Seven more groves. We need to pass them fast. There’s no way I can excuse myself of being late after hearing the news.”
“Then say I was faster.” My mother’s voice startled me bad, making me jump and an easy catch for her to lift from my torso making everything I carried, except clothes, fall unceremoniously. Both of us rising above the branches of the massive trees. Calling back to the tired Copper she said. “See you in the library, Copper!”
“Alright, Miss Icy! Bye Clear!” And up we went, not that I had a say.
Bursting through the initial leaf layer I heard someone screech, startled. I would’ve as well if in the middle of the wind current route someone just blasted from below and appeared on my face. I heard a “Wow! You crazy youngster!” as my mother carried me like a hatchling through the middle of the flightway on the left side, almost touching leafed wall.
The flyway current, maybe the most unique feature of the city of Redwood. Stores, attractions and groceries were built along the leaf tunnel’s length. All the buildings being part of the trees like the homes below but with platforms placed on the sides for easy access to the wares. And not only reserved for flying species as some stairs connected and made a stairwell stuck to the tree spiraling to the ground below. I always believed it was made because of me. I was the first ever to be here that couldn’t fly. Like Copper.
The sun, which entered easily with little resistance by the upper branches, warmed me up and shed light into everywhere around me. The ceiling branches were very thin, and left great amounts of light enter the improvised looking tunnel. I was not paying attention to any of that of course.
“Ma! Stop carrying me, it’s painful! Both on the sides and to my pride!” I said, trying to break free, but to no avail. I couldn't move as I was encased with talons on my belly and under my chin, and with paws tightly on my flanks. Griffins stared as we passed by way too quickly, I could feel a familiar heat grow on my cheeks.
“What? I can’t hear you over the wind! You want to visit the boutique? Or did you say the spa? What kind of joy you are looking for dear?”
“Ma! This is not the best moment for bonding, I have something to do!”
“Well, sure I’ll take you, but you really don’t need to repeat it so much!” I could hear my mother’s laughter over the wind. Some still wondered why I didn’t like to go out anymore. My only mean of escape would be to fall a ten wingspan height, find the nearest stairwell, dodge any griffin that has read the newspaper the last couple of weeks and lose my mom.
The hardest being losing my mom.
There was no hesitation from my part when I stuck out my tounge and pressed it against my mother’s talon. Triggering her to briefly loosen her hold in disgust. I took the opportunity at full, twisted my body and then used my hellishly naturally strong rear legs to push her away; slipping through her talons. Razor sharp talons mind you. Luckily she wasn’t trying to hurt me so she had to let go or it would’ve ended badly.
In freefall I re-twisted myself like those cat pets in Equestria and took an analytic look downward to my landing zone, making it easy to reach one of the many strechy branches of the gigantic tree without it looking like an attempt on suicide.
Already bouncing out and onto one of the twigs on level with the platforms, I ran without looking back to the closest walkways for the stores, ducking my head as I did. I passed hurtling in between the pedestrians looking at all directions for my mother.
It had been a while since I have gotten out, and it showed, all those that I passed by stopped to gape. It was not every day one saw a pony in these parts. Much less one rooted to earth.
And an incredibly marvelous idea it was to look out for my mother, with one glance behind me, from the left side amaizinly, I didn’t think twice to dive to the side, crashing into a stand avoiding an unwanted pickup coming from behind me. Which by the speed she came down I believe she wouldn’t be able to come back anytime soon.
“My cabbages!” Yelled a poor vender as I didn’t get the time to apologize for the broken flying chariot. But sure as crud was I doing it mentally. Thinking, "this is going to bring the guard, Mom, what are you doing?!" Ignoring the hypocrisy I ran and zig-zagged until I found an alley pathway with various inner routs. And hasted to get to the other side.
The pathway, like pretty much any pathway on the flyway, was too close quarters for any flying,sure as claymore had a powerful gust, hard for me to gallop, and even trot. I was almost out in the other side when I recalled that my Mom was the kind to go for the unforeseen. So I stopped fighting the wind and was pushed back without my consent, she would know I would go this path, just too predictable if you knew me, and I knew me, somewhat.
And wouldn’t you know it? The floor I once stood died out, opening the floor. I would've just trotted away if I wasn't analizing how idiotic was my mother being at destroying public property! It almost made me stop, but disgracefully I'm just as stubborn as her.
Looking for any other attempt I paced backwards. And right when I was to turn I froze watching in horror as a couple strolled into the pathway and fell through the hole, yelping in surprise. Luckily all in the city needed a minimum requirement to fly before entering the top part of the city. Showing how many times more weird an earth pony was to the place, and by extend, my worries. Even though it didn't calm my nerves until I saw both griffins fly out of the hole and look at it with wonder. I know a thing or two about believing all griffins can fly.
Out of another side of the pathway with less air resistance I searched for my escape. A central stairwell, stuck to the side of one of the biggest trees of the groove. Proudly griffin crafted. Unluckily for me I could see my Mom waiting next to the entrance with a hat and a kerchief attempting to look normal. But when you are about a head higher than anyone else, you are not an easy griffin to hide. But damn was she fast. And that was the only staircase down for two grooves out, so to descend I had to improvise.
With no fear of heights I jumped onto the nearest low branch. Already knowing the assembly of most branches I steadily moved to its base connecting with the tree and hopped to its lower cousin, making an improvised stairwell of my own. Fast and careful I descended, making sure my nails rasped the branch at least once and pushing to feel my anchors in place before jumping down to the next branch. If there was no breach near I would slide down with my nails, or hoof tip, making resistance against the trunk of the massive tree before I found another branch to hold myself in place.
I sometimes thought of going with my nails all the way down, but with the same frequency of mind I remembered my nails had a limit to what they could achieve, so that was a no.
It was the most physical activity I had in months, and it showed. Starting to feel the strain on my legs, and heaving like a bear in heat, I was hoping it would end soon. And my wishes were answered as I was about to hit the last weak branch to be home free. I was thanking everything that allowed me to get there as I neared the grass floor. But it wouldn’t go that easy.
My Ma truly knew me, being right on the last branch before touching the ground, smiling with that smug little smile of hers as I was without means to escape. I could only vent my frustration.
“Oh, come on!”
“Hold right there!” Just as anticipated, the destruction upstairs didn’t go unnoticed, a small flock of guards, seven in total, appeared around me and my Ma. Filling the essential directions we could run. The leader was the obvious one who spoke first, a big old male griffin by the looks of it. Wearing a familiar set of clothing of beige with a unique stylized hat that made the floor several times more interesting, much more than I would’ve wished.
“Wait, Clear?” I didn’t have to look to know all the guards around us, all new and green, observed the old griffin leader oddly. “Aha! I knew I recognized the 'criminal like description'. Call it off fleet, false alarm.” The old griffin glanced at my mother amused all the way. “Aren’t you looking to go out, colonel?”
“General.” My Ma straightened her back. One of the guards about to apprehend her was feeling really small now. She was already a big griffin, going over a head of any other, but tallying her title made her look several times more intimidating, even with her very feminine hat and kerchief.
“Hello sir, Poison Berry.” I said like a kid apologizing for something wrongly done. Already feeling guilty by the mess.
“Come on sweetheart, already told you, just Berry.” General Poison Berry. The old griffin portrayal didn’t give him justice, his white feathers could be confused for a cloud and his gray fur was his autograph. By old pictures I’ve seen, I knew those feathers were supposed to be black and fur brown. He viewed back to my Ma. “Taking the little filly out I see. Though when she was smaller there were huge rocks involved, and more saddles.”
“Actually I was called for something and—”
“I supposed it would be a great opportunity. You know how Cristal here is with going out lately.”
“That I know.” The General was really enjoying himself with his strange chuckle, the new recruits didn’t know what to do. And once Berry stopped laughing he spared them a serious glance and they all flocked to whatever place they came from. It was then I called out.
“I’m still up here...” It was really getting sore to stand there. It was a very small branch. Essentially a twig.
“Oh, right. You and your tree scaling.” He was always jealous of my skills. “So what is the mission?”
“Who said anything about a mission...?” I was still trying to hide it. Sir Berry carried me like old times, meaning like a hatchling. Talons under forelegs and too close for comfort. So he could see my face and a little pout I’m told I do when I lie.
“You getting out of the house? It’s either the end of the world, or a mission call. Unless you are going out with Coppe—”
“It’s a mission.”
“Well that’s disappointing.” I was disliking the theme of everyone I knew trying to ship me and Copper every time they could, not that I mind the idea— sorry, keep in sequence. I was left on the floor in front of my mother, which I was looking up with a hopeless smile. But then the General said. “Off you go.”
My head snapped to General Berry and then back to Mom, looked at each other with the familiar atmosphere of ‘grownups are going to talk’ kind of thing. The opening was there so I didn’t refuse to take it. Only sparing my Mother a sorry smile I picked up speed and left. Heading to where I knew the hill of the stone library should be.
Only when I was fully out of eyesight Sir Berry began to speak. “Is this what you need to do, for a moment with your daughter nowadays, Colonel? Stalking her down the city, destroying property, and attempting foalnap?”
“Well, what about you playing police guard with no jurisdiction or training, or sleep. I know you have no idea how law works. I thought you were better than that, General.” At those words the sir Berry laughed vigorously, making my mother do the same. Old friends I still didn’t even begin to understand the relationship of.
“Why haven’t you told her, Icy.” The General began with a sigh, rubbing his eyes as he indeed looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“I wanted to spend time with her, do things. I was even considering going to a spa or a boutique for it. Me!”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah.”
“But she is useful, Icy, and we needed her about two weeks ago. Luckily we were able to get the all Master Garrison Copper for the time, bah, but no jokes, real sorry, but he can only get so much done out of updating his reading, without him, with her, or her, with him, I don’t think those two would do anything productive.”
“But General, about this quest they need to do, you know I was not told everything, right?”
“I know.”
“And why is that? I don’t see any harm on having me informed of it. And who in the name of the queen is Ashley?”
“The secrecy to you goes by the same reasoning of why you haven’t left the house unless it’s with Clear.” The General’s tone changed intensely low, my Mom gaining a huge curiosity to everything around her.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“Of course you don’t.” The general spread his wings, giving a powerful flap before picking up air and going airborne, but he was not done talking to my mother just yet. “Don’t be surprised once you get to see her by the way, Ashley. But keep in mind, anyone could be the enemy. And the brains believe those closest are the most dangerous.” He pointed a talon to her. “Even you. And one last word of advice, grudges get you nowhere."
With those last words said, Poison Berry left my Ma at peace. Well, peace to leave and follow me, but mental peace? Never. She remained standing there, in thought. There was many things to consider for her, and so little time to do so. She scratched her head feathers as she sighed. It would be a long week.
And boy would she hate each second of it.
At the time of the ending discussion I had finally arrived at the library, seeing at its magnificent steps of marble stone and with difficulty raising the steps with a hop on my trot. May I have liked to admit it or not, I have missed the old place. It was truly my second home, and dare say my true home. All I know, all I understand, everything I was, got built through a book club within those strange stone walls with no windows. Old as the city itself, maybe even older.
The library was on a hill, a circle of Redwood's trees stopping from growing after the base of the small collection of dirt. It looked like a beacon of light with the sunlight hitting its perfectly white material. It had statues of griffins holding books and swords, covered my leaves and weeds like the stairs and walls. It may be impressive but it was not free of neglect, the place was never visited because it looked abandoned. And that's how the new owner of the library liked it.
“Wow, you got here fast.” Copper entered my personal space once I had reached the top of the stairs, carrying everything I dropped on my little excursion with my mother. I kept note to tell him to clean the place up a bit, I also liked it as it was, but having visitors wouldn’t hurt.“Was it quick? Or did you find a way to escape.”
“You know I always do.” I said happy to have Copper at my side once more. I thought at the time I was just happy of being outside. “Did you enter? The sun can’t be doing you any good.”
“Well, no, I was waiting outside for you to get here. I don’t think you would be allowed to enter right away if I wasn’t with you.” Leave it to Copper to think of me more than himself.
“Ah, you’re too sweet. But what are we waiting for! There’s a interview we need to prepare for and you need to tell me everything.” I was about to enter if it was not for Copper’s talon reaching me and stopping me on my tracks. I would've enjoyed the contact if I wasn't so immersed on the look in his eyes. “What?”
“Ashley is waiting for you in the lobby.” My face changed from happy to complete whine mode in less than a second. “Aww,” was the best choice of words I had. I was hoping to see her on a happy moment, or any moment that didn’t remind her how long I have come to visit. One month. I sighed in defeat. Unless there was something to calm her in some way, something that forced her to be nice. I could maybe explain my absence. “And there’s another thing you should know—”
“So are we going in or what.” Twice in one day my mother’s voice startled me. Not because it was a surprise, or because I was trying to run from her. But by it coming from right next to my ear in a whisper. In midst of my freak out her laughing made itself known by all living things within a couple of kilometers. Including the guards inside.
“What is going on here— Ah, Master Garrison.” I heard a voice exclaim from my upside down position. I now noticed I always fall when I am startled bad. I was helped by Copper to pick myself up. “This must be your assistant half warrior miss Cristal Clear, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” I said as I stood. Slightly proud to be recognized. Of course, it made my pride shatter even harder once I saw the guard was actually talking to my mother.
“It’s a pleasure. Heard so much about you from the guys inside.” The griffin guard, wearing iron armor and everything, held my mother’s talon and shook it while nodding his head, my mother looked at me with amusement. “The rumors of political attempts against you. The legend of fights against creatures four times your size. Aha, I even remember the tale of you slapping the queen in the face!”
The guard laughed to his heart’s content as my blood ran cold. I had never told those rumors to my mother. And it showed as her eyes widen, panning to me with a gaze screeching all I needed to know of her opinion on those stories. “But really, I can’t see what the others meant when they said I wouldn’t believe the stories when I saw you. Even when you—”
“Green!” Copper barged in to save the day. “The one you know as Cristal Clear is right here. The griffin in front of you is my assistant's mother, the one that will be joining us today. ”
I really was thankful I was saved. I really, really was. Even knowing I was going to get eaten with words on part of my mother later that day. But my mind couldn’t give me the instant of peace, no~, not once. I had to be a good listener and understand what Copper said immediately.
“Wait, what?! My Ma is going with us too?!” I was apparently the only one there to understand that, as my Mom was surprised when I said it, with her brows slightly lifted; she’s a good actor but even she has her tells. Her frown evolving into a free smile.
“Uhh, yeah. I was told to contact the colonel. But I was thinking of doing it later. Because Ashley was really into talking to you alone.” I paused in thought at Garrison’s words. My mind connecting dots. Either Copper is the biggest and scariest mastermind I have ever met or the coincidence was just happy with me that day. Who wants to have an old friend bite your head off when you can have family nearby to present her.
“That pony is Cristal Clear?!” I wasn’t even in the correct mindset to feel good of melting another stereotyped griffins mind.
“Yeah! Yes, right! Mom! You are coming with us!” I said straining my smile as I moved to my mother and grabbed her by the kerchief with my teeth and moved her to the door. Silencing her complains in my mind. Garrison sighed and was going to follow me if the guard wouldn’t have stopped him in place.
“You are telling me the only thing that has touched the face of the queen and survived... is a pony. And wasn't she even your... you know... property?”
“Recruit Green, those are stories and rumors the superiors made to make Clear look meaner and have no problems with anyone. There’s little tolerance for ponies here but you are not to consider Clear a free pony, or any kind of pony at that.” Garrison’s voice changed to his royal voice, he always did it it when addressing strangers or subordinates he didn’t trust. The soldier was amazingly nodding at his words.
“Don’t need to tell me twice, ‘library master’, I'm not a pony lover, but I keep myself from insulting one." Copper narrowed his eyes, the guard didn't notice. "I've heard what that little thing has done. I don't care much really, but what I hate more are those traitors, calling themselves griffins living in the pony lands. Claiming brave and representing us. Sickening.”
“Now, now, Green, I can tolerate when ya’ go a little excited or depressed, but if ya’ go into anything intolerant, I will do the same with ya’.”
“Yeah, yeah, you always tell me that, Master Copper.”
“Because it'll always be true. And professor is enough, owning the library gives some strange titles, but master is not one of them.” Garrison ended with a strong gaze, the guard saying ‘learn how to take a joke’ under his breath. Then going to the door where my mother and I discussed things in a low volume.
Now I don’t think I will be able to describe it, but I can tell you, we did that a lot. Talking over each others voices, and understanding each others reasoning before replying our own. Again, over the others words. It’s confusing when I think back. But when it’s in progress it feels so natural, believe me.
We discussed about three topics, the rumors about me, the things I didn’t want my mother doing once inside and what I wanted her to be like inside. My Ma, had a dialogue of her own going on over mine. Talking about how little I told her, then about things that happened to me, how she felt of how little things we did together and how little respect I gave her when it came to her way of being.
Truly it’s something only to be understood at the moment, by mother and daughter. Because looking back I really have no idea how we got all that through. Not that it was resolved though, we never really resolve anything like that.
“Ya’ both ready to get in?” Garrison said out loud once near enough to tell we were debating our thoughts. I really liked this Copper and his coincidental slash mastermind actions.
“Yes, we are.” My mother said ending our conversation in a dull note.
“Miss Trident, Colonel, from here one out, I must warn you, the place is a mess since Ashley has not been allowed to exit the building in a really long time."
“Huh, no wonder she’s such a good friend of Clear.” My ears flicked, not that anyone noticed as they were held down by my cap. “But what am I in for, Copper?”
“I don’t think you would believe me if I described her to you, Ma’am— I mean, Colonel.” Garrison stepped forward opening the door just giving a mysterious look at us both, earning a roll of eyes from my mother, she wasn’t into secrecy, I was. We were greeted by nine guards blocking the way inside with their bodies. Copper ignored them and entered without a word and we followed closely. The guards opened way and I was presented with the place I had seen all my life from childhood to becoming an adult.
It was horrid.
First to note was its darkness, all sources of light seemed to have been reduced to small lousy candles spread along equally by the walls. A bed at the midpoint of the library and a small table on the side were the best illuminated. And by all that is good did it smell, I was hoping to get the fragarance of old books into my system but what I got was the combination of so many things I wrinckled my nose for a bit. It would be hard to get used to, the others said nothing about it.
Everything else was of bookshelves, decorations and the hanging gems which glistened with the small sources of light. Very insignificant spaces in between the candles filled with modest images of art and culture on the walls, all with awful lightening, as the back of the room couldn’t be seen at all. And last, even if it is not a flaw of the library's design, the floor was impossible to see with books making home over it, enough books to not only block vision of the floor but also make book pillars in the back of the room.
“So, ya' want to see her?”
My mother tilted her head at the place, trying to avoid stepping on any important piece of literature. “I’m not sure. I feel as if I know her already.”
“Hey, my mess is at least organized!” I was not fond of my Mother Icy’s prompts to my private things while surrounded by strangers, I knew the warriors behind us were snickering away. They thought I wouldn’t have such a good ear, they always underestimate the pony ears.
“Ashley? Ashley, are ya' awake? There's somegriffin I would like you to meet.” Copper called as he advanced into the dark place. My mother Trident flinched by the name. She had been hearing about it for nil less than half a year by then, not that I knew. In her mind she would no longer wonder if I would be eaten at night by the thing those who saw it called it, a predator. She wasn't liking the mysterious air the person, or thing, was kept within. And as she glanced around the room she saw something she had never seen in her life.
"Huh?" Now, it's not a big deal to hear a confused exclamation, but given the circumstances I can say with ease I glanced at my mother when she cried out confusion and dug in between a pile of books. And with a glister in my eye I smiled at the colourful little box she pick out of it.
"Well, you found Ashley's toys." I said as my mother investigated the thing. A wooden cubic box, splitting in twenty seven individual pieces and coloured on the face of each piece, nine equal ones on each side. At least that was what it would look like if it was —as Ashley always said— "solved." It was a puzzle I still wasn't able to get myself to solve. Hooves have limits.
"What is this?" My Ma asked holding the cube with justifiable wonder and rightful bewilderment.
"Ashley calls it a puzzle cube, I still have no idea how she solves it." I said drawing near Mom letting me grab the cube and with difficulty turn it to show it was of moving pieces.
"This crazy thing is supposed to be a puzzle?"
"Yeah."
“How do you ‘solve’ this?”
“Still have no clue.” With those words, my mother left the mysterious item be, and then looked in between the others. All were strange and unique in their own way. And I was surprised at some new ones piled up on the back, barely above the book layer, Ashley had been busy.
"And this?" My mother asked again, this time lifting a small rectangular box. My face took a knowing smile as I deep inside hated the thing.
"Mom, you remember the abacus' we used at school? You know, for math and that sort of thing?" She looked at me as if I had gone mad.
"You are telling me this little box is an abacus?" My Mom asked, not buying it. There was little buttons with rubbles of carbon graffiti Ashley called numbers and a small ‘screen’ in which I could see the moving pieces of clockwork waiting for their next command.
"Essentially, yes."
My mom made a face of amusement and complete not belif before leaving the precious thing be, to my disappointment. The other griffins in the room were now frantically searching. Ashley was the kind of gal to stay hiding until she was ready to show herself. So I wasn't as worried she had left the building.
"And what about this?" My Mother lifted a golden ball, markings I recognized spread in circular motions around its surface. My eyes lit up as an evil idea came to mind.
"Oh, if you tap at it with a claw three times it will reveal its true form." If my mother would have given a momentary glance to me she would've seen me rubbing my hooves together.
And she did what I asked. After the third tapping on the sphere's surface, the little ball started to shake. My mother stared in curiosity. A faint ticking noise spread through the surface of the ball. The sound she was able to somehow hear as she placed her ear closer and shook it. 'Perfect' was my thought as my smile turned wicked.
The little thing vibrated as the clicking became faster. My mother was not fond of mysterious things that speed up ominously and made unnatural sounds, I don't think many are fond of it. So in responce she calmly left the ball on the floor and continued to gape as it vibrated violently. I tsk-ed in disillusionment.
Right then the sphere opened in one quick motion, surface splitting in seven equal pieces as its center moved out of place and eighteen different glass eyes stared at my mother. A golden spider. But not any spider, a huge spider of the size of my head with each leg as thin as a string. I started to feel little shivers around my body, I always felt those when that thing is free. It clicked and clacked as it ticked and tocked. Walking on the floor and freaking the hell out of my Mom as it head into the darkness. As much as a trained colonel could be of course. "Wow. Disturbing." She said eyebrows raised.
“Tell me about it. And that’s not even its final form.”
My mother and I quickly turned, she did so mechanically, and in less than a blink as her body was facing at the dark side of the room, eyes searching to any sign of life. The sudden movement startled the residents, it took a moment before I tried to talk again, especially since I was already with my heart on the roof because the voice was right behind me and I anticipated nothing. But once I thought hard, I remembered the voice and I could breathe a little better. But by the looks of it my mother was not in any familiar situation.
“Ma, calm down, I know it’s not the way you would like to be presented but, I want you to meet—“ But I was interrupted.
“You don’t need to present me blue, I can do so myself.” My mom's eyes found her target once the voice spoke once more. She was long gone with the expression she carried while staring at a pair of eyes shining with the reflection of the little light there was in the room.
“Well, please don’t attack? Heh, sorry, it’s a joke.” The voice said as its shadowy form left the darkness.
I know now my mother Trident had expected a monster; she had expected another griffin; damned be all, she had even expected one of those manticores with the kind of wonder and depredator in nature they placed Ashley. Anything other than what was up right in front of her. It was the first time she had ever, even if unintentionally, looked honestly surprised.
“You must be Clear Cristal’s mother, pleasant to meet you. I’m from the Node of Time, the human region, sole representative. My name is Ashley, hope we can be in good terms.”
"Presenting Ashley to my mother was an issue I think books of psychology will still be written about it for some time. My Mom is no extreme traditional griffin but she has her limits to how much abnormal things could be around her before she snapped. Five griffins, all trained, fell like flies when Ashley came about. I mean, they had to defend her against anything, diplomats are that kind of messy business, but that crazy girl enjoyed it far too much."
"We were told to leave the next day. The seed was planted, and as you know, it became my doom. I--" Cristal flintched when all of the sudden in the darkness Twilight's distorded voice screeched her to a halt. "Wow, what was that for?"
...
"An idea? What are you thinking Twi?"
...
"Oh, sorry, Smarty Pants."
...
"Really? You think the silent guy's going to cooperate into telling anything?
...
Hey, I already have issues, but alright, if you say so. Your turn. Human. Go all out.
“I fear for my life today more than any other day I have lived. Living against the stigma of being different is a challenge upon itself, a challenge that I was supposed to surpass with one mission. But may it have been the maker or any other thing that calls itself god these days responded that it was not to be. As today, all my dreams are crushed, my best friend fatally wounded, and all the crew have died dishonorably. It doesn’t matter if I have made the biggest discovery I could ever achieve in my life. All would’ve been for nothing if I die here. So that’s what I’m going to avoid, dying in the unknown. Dying with no one knowing I was here, hence my fear.”
Professor Cristal Clear, Diary leaf entry one, Land of the unknown.
“True family is not one linked by who birthed who, but by respect and the happiness brought by each other's life. Family members strangely grow up under the same tree. But never forget about those who cared for you from the moment you drew your first breath.”
Well... I’m not very good at sharing. Not very good at recuperating thoughts of the past either, "remembering things lately" was never my thing. I endorse in the past when it comes to other's stories, I simply find them more interesting, you understand my predicament? But I can try.
...
Alright. I think I have something.
It was afternoon. Another day at the library, alone, reading as usual. It was the time of my youth me and my mother weren’t going along, so I always stayed late in the library about seven big trees out my home at the time. But as I read in this particular day I felt a feather touch my nose, and as I sneezed, a new set of eyes were before me. My first and only friend rocked my— huh?
What? It’s not my wh— Oh! Yes! Of course. My apologies.
Right, I have something... yes... yes! I got something.
I finally arrived at Ponyville. Strange place if you ask me, I wasn’t fond of it upon arrival, but Spike, my friendly assistant drake, was skipping with joy at watching me go out of my comfort zone. Asking me to at least try to make friends right as a smiling pink mare arrived next to him and—
I was on my village, all my loved ones were cursed, I was fighting the jealous and hate filled mare named Once Prismia, using the necklace she had to amplify her jealousy so I amplified my love and I—
S̮͚͡͞ḩ̸̥̝̳̼̳s̷̭͎̼̱̣̫̝̦ͅo̵̜͚̪m̨̛͖͓̳.̡̜̟̦
What? Are you sure? I don’t even know a pink princess... I believe? Well, isn’t this a problem? Going back to where I can remember better should be our best bet, don't you believe? Then I move forward, alright?
Yes, think. Right. I... I got something...
A vault.
I recall the treasury where I was with my people for the last time. It had arranged golden ingots covered by blue mantels where most of us sat for comfort like an old mobsters counting his gold while sitting on it. Of course that would mean your maintenance was terrible with the walls cracked, hanging lights damaged and falling at the same rate as parts of the ceiling, and it was pitch dark. And with as little light as there was, you could sense the humongous forty ton vault door known by its old title of fortified Knox a long time ago.
Yes... I can see it just like back then.
The group I belonged with was of two thousand four hundred and forty-seven normal people. If the "unique" class were included we were about five thousand, to the dot, and I knew them all by heart, my family. Men, women and children from every kind, place and culture to my knowledge, my current student’s parents and old students, too many to name, so many lives to keep protected.
And there we were, arranged to sit close to the ones we knew most. Improvised groups based on trust if you will. Only a few lucky ones had one actual family member. Remaining silent, the whispers could’ve been heard clearly. Giving hope, crying for hope and a couple even praying for hope, not only those, the brave kids out of the vault doors, screaming commands to each other, whimpers of pain for every hit taken and shouts of victory for each one of the bastards that fell.
Being the eldest in the group meant not being allowed to help in the fighting, wanted it or not. My older sister was in a technical sense older than my person, but, uh... she’s good at fist taking enemies to the ground. She’s from old times where foot soldiers were the standard way of combat, face to face through the sight of an old fashion rifle.
But things have changed much from that time.
Norms have morphed, speech has transcended, and even what was considered unique people was very different of what my sister and I would ever know. Even if it was a forced change. Ha! Forced changing, I would have laughed to the irony if the situation was any different.
Extreme height, rainbow eyes, skittle hair and various skin colors composed all of the new unique people to call human. All two thousand nine hundred fifty three of the unique, most now outside. I’m no racist by any means, but on my days if you met someone whose hair is colored blue, with skin colored purple, you know things have gone into a metaphorical sinkhole, or you are high on minks, or dislocated of your sector, neighborhood if you will.
And of course, the fashion back then was hideous! At least that's my opinion, I never was a fan of dark blue, silvery-lined, tight suits. Good classic Tron looking, but different lining positions that reduced the reference, and my liking. These were necessary for our "protection against manipulations in general", or something in those lines, "good old polonium" I always said, don’t believe I will ever remember why though. And they were cold as you wouldn't believe, I mean, you could make ice under them, a nice portable cooler.
I, as many around me, wore clothes on top of the obligatory tight suits due to the cold. But I didn’t wore a lot as others needed it more. An old style long sleeve shirt and jeans and my own special working boots was all I needed. I fashioned like the stereotypical worker of the time United States was only fifty states.
My appearance back then was of an old, old man. Believe me, when you hold the Google world record of oldest living person, you know you're old. Not that I looked the part, face young, mid-thirties looking, height small for people on the old lost measuring system of feet, in which I was six, and I moved on par of those of my apparent youth.
But there’s where the good looks ended. My hair was as gray as it could get. Barely wrinkled, but I still had showing veins on my neck, arms and feet. And if anyone looked me in the eye they would immediately know I was no youngster.
The only youngsters I knew were my current students, those on the new people category of course. Or what was left of the "too hurt to fight", "too young to fight" or the "too screwed up to fight" bunch that were sitting around me back then, one was even leaned on my shoulder.
Tau was to at my left. Taller than me for about half a meter, from the too screwed up bunch. He broke down the moment the fight started; I could hear his laughter. The laugh was catchy actually, a nice chuckle which could make you think of a nice joke. For him leaving his parents to enter college with me was difficult. Being left by those parents to die was slightly harder.
Mikayla was to my right; the one leaning on my shoulder. She reached about my size, from the too young pack indeed as she could still smile and bring hope. My grandniece was special, right in her element, darkness. And also one of the prayers, not really knowing what she was doing, never taught about the ways of any religion, she simply reasoned "it wouldn’t hurt to try". Sweet child in the end. She was even holding my hand attempting to make me pray with her.
And last but not least, the giant by two feet higher than Tau, Jupiter, that’s the nickname I gave him because of the name of his brother, Mars. Yes, Mars is a name, a ridiculous name at that, if I followed the same process they named him I still wouldn't name any relative of mine named Earth, that's for sure. And yes, I see the hypocrisy, but at least mine is a nickname.
But anyways, Jupiter was in front of Mikayla and damn was he a downer, I promised myself once I got the chance I would give him a present, maybe some candy, children love candy. He was too hurt to fight, the most depressed in the room, and that's an achievement. Solely sitting and staring at nothing holding the emptiness that was his right arm. At least the last time I saw him he did so. He lost the extremity trying to save his girlfriend from the first wave. And his condition didn’t allow fighting for vengeance. Well, until it eventually grows back.
Thoughts were my form of entertainment as I couldn't see a darn thing, listening was all I did. I wished I could’ve done something more than medical aid or being a know it all. Better me than my little Millie I guess. But even if I was not a fighter, I knew I was the planner, and I needed a plan. And with the time in the darkness I thought of something, a horrible one, but an idea nonetheless. I even smiled on how half-assed, jerk prick insulting it would be to my recently praised worse enemy.
But it was then I noticed it.
The Silence.
There was quite a lack of sound from outside. The silence itself sent chills up my spine and from what I could tell from the sudden drop in whispers, I was not the only one to fear the eerie situation.
I panned my eyes to the source in front of me, I could see my breath. My tired expression, if any could see, was a byproduct of months of lack of sleep. I seemed like a calm and wise old man, if one could see further I was shaking. Not from the cold.
I felt the stares of all those behind me direct themselves toward the vault doors.
Sitting in a comfortable position with my elbows on my thighs, my old brain lighted up with power to process the problem. But I soon discovered every possibility I thought ended with me or everyone in this room, crippled, dead and/or worse.
So we simply sat and stared.
No one dared to make a sound, or even move as a common thought passed through their minds, "Did we win? Or did we lose?", but you didn’t need to be a genius hear the lack of a victory roar, telling me all I needed to know. And even if we had won, many already lost confidence of anything coming out of trying. When all you supposed would help you in times of need abandons you to all die, family included, it gives you things to think about. And we had that. A lot of that.
A loud strike against the vault door startled all of those with still hope in their hearts, and their faces paled.
The end was knocking.
Heh.
I remember a song like that. Old classic.
But what had made me get to that point? Giving a smile to a small girl saying her future was bright? Made decisions for freedom over caution? Maybe even just deciding to live longer… Anything I chose isn’t a matter anymore. The past is the past. But the now?
The now was everything.
Another hit to the thick door made most jump, and me stand. Carefully stepping down the covered gold, I could only deduce how it was going to end. My working boots clanged with the stone floor as I sang a familiar song in a volume only I could hear. In this now, if I was to die, I would write how it would happen, and I would look at death in the eye and laugh.
Mikayla yelped as I stood. Giving the signal to others of my activity. They must have thought I had a plan as they stood up with me; everyone else with survival in their minds uplifted their spirits as well. If we were to survive the encounter, I swore I would make a party, no matter how much I hated those things.
Jupiter still had a few of those batons, the ones covered with polonium and the electric generating handle? Yes, those. He passed them around with his good arm as Tau, who had calmed down slightly but I could feel him twitched now and then, passed me his baton he stood at my side. He didn’t see me singing nor did I notice his smile. Mikayla stood behind me, her hard grip on her "baton" as if it would save her, praying even harder. I could’ve sworn to have seen their eyes glow dimly.
None in the room would die laying down; I could feel it in the room. They're still as stubborn as I know humans to be, all simple people, office workers, students with potential but nothing reached and elders in no way ready to meet death like me.
What an interesting change.
The frequency of the slams of the door increased.
“The end is knocking~ the end is knocking~ turururu~ rururu~ rururu~ Yeah~” The vault door was slammed one last time sending ripples of power everywhere and pieces of the door of the size of Nash's chest. Steel sliding stone was heard across the room as dim colored light reached inside for what felt like years.
The old man gazed long into it the abyss, and it gazed back.
Its white fur fumed in scars and burns, with a faint glow radiating energy. Small dots outstretched throughout its body; some bullets still implanted in its furry skin. Red and orange mane and tail wagged like a live flame were still covered in blood from its victims. Wings which seemed too small to lift it were held closed to its sides and Nash smiled with pride at its broken face with blood skirling out its long nose. But the smile faded at the sight of its foot long horn on the top of its skull glowing red, black and green from the bottom to the tip proving more courageous in coloring than its large red iris turning white, paying their full attention at Nash's existence.
Against his own fears’ wishes no move was done, and against the other voices in his head he resisted singing a song. Nash stared right back with the same cold intensity as his mind went white. No real plan, no amazing strategy, and no way out. He was gazing at the last morbid creation of the mind of ignorant violent misanthropes and deniers. He knew he was already dead.
It was distracted by analyzing everyone in the room, but especially Nash's still being, every inch, inspecting as if looking for something, but none stirred, every second we were alive was a small victory. Nash expected of those around him were doing, or thinking, of something, because many voices in his head wanted me to do various stupid things. And now they all sounded reasonable.
“Tera, the slippery Elder…” Nash stiffed as it spoke, a strong and firm voice you would expect from any good narrator or politician. Morgan something came to mind. But then Nash was distracted as to how it knew his nickname, but with reason he remembered who they were being led by. It meant many bad things were to happen.
“With your capture, the last pit of resistance will fall, bringing true peace to this beautiful existence." "He" said in almost cheerful tone flaring "his" horn, and by reflex Nash fell back into a defensive stance and with the quick flick the baton in hand it came to full length.
If it wasn't because of how much it hurt to stand, Nash would've stayed staring. The true reason the next stupid idea seemed so brilliant at the time.
He charged. The sudden movement was all the mob needed to release a battle cry and advance. All of them yelling as hard as their lungs could give them. They made those that lived before proud.
Nash felt Mikayla trying to grab his harder to follow, the man knew how useful she could be, but was already too weak. Nash felt how my shirt slipped from her grasp, but with the baton in one hand, feet at their tips, free hand at the striking palm, muscles tense and mind at the go, the charged with Jupiter and Tau by his side could only go faster. And Mikayla was left behind.
—Thirty Meters. Cero seconds.
The thing tried to carry them, push them, and pull him. The silver lining of the P-Suit glowed green and did its job reducing the force of the push. Those that didn’t have the suit were manipulated easily to the roof and unceremoniously dropped. Nash had no time to glance to their direction but could deduce their fate by their cut off screams. Those with the suit wavered at the force, boots glowed neon green and grew heavy as they slipped through the attempt feeling a slight pressure. Nash in contrast was slow but wasn’t slowed down.
—Twenty five Meters. One second.
"He" then speeded the particles, to burn everyone. Horrible pain, but not an immediate death, Nash saw it coming from how the horn glowed red and with the low flames forming on the hair of those in front. With a hard grip, and with a swift move, Nash's baton swung true, adding possibilities, un-focusing and confusing the creature. At least around and behind him, those that didn’t realize what was happening became balls of carbonized flame in a blink of an eye, their screeches stamped forever on the survivors, but without looking back they advanced.
If "he" had tried to continue there wouldn’t have been able to try again. So those that knew of it were safe to just charge and withhold the batons better. But unfortunately Nash had lost sight of Tau and Jupiter by then. Experiencing tunnel vision he didn’t see the movement from the outside behind the thing.
—Ten meters. Three seconds.
"He" was getting desperate, manipulating the broken pieces of the door to throw them. Barely getting one lunged towards the center —where Nash ran— and then pulling a piece of the wall to the right side. It tore through like a bullet through air. Some of the blood splatter covering the advancing group's faces, but they wouldn't be stopped.
"He" was ready to throw another.
"He" didn’t get the chance.
“Release!” Nash yelled summoned a hiss from my boots signaling freedom, now they all were bare footed, making much easier to leap for "his" face. The frustrations in his features changed to surprise by amount of time the distance between them shortened. Nash who was right on his face was about to strike.
He didn’t get the chance.
What Nash thought at the instant was that the creature became a ball of fire, not even perceiving the modified foot soldier-handled missile hitting it right in the flank. The shockwave of the explosion plowed the flying man dead center in the chest, blasting him back towards the group.
They stumbled to the floor, shocked and disoriented, everything hurt. It took only a couple of milliseconds before they were sent to our blessed unconsciousness.
For ten seconds.
Nash snapped awake, coughing, throat rasp, ears ringing in a very high pitch and my body shook violently as if it was extremely cold. There was no control over his legs as he couldn’t feel anything from the waist down. Chest might as well be stomped repeatedly by an elephant with the kind of pain that it greeted with, and the head was where that same elephant sat. How good would it be to have morphine then?
“Hold still!” A familiar female voice was the first sensorial signal Nash received other than pain and cold. The voice was weak and distant, but still tangible. It came from an armor suited lady, green dark reflecting armor. Not that Nash was going to see that anytime soon.
The yelling was the second thing Nash could sense, several voices trying to be heard at the same time. Chaos or celebration were all the same for him. Maybe both. The engines of a nearby ship got louder as it landed far enough for medical pickups. The old-timer tried to open his eyes even with the pain, but by now he found nothing to see, lacking undamaged eyes.
“Marga...” He tried to say the old name, but it escaped as his chest had other ideas making the name too weak and scripted. “Wha... happe…”
“Shut it! Stay still!” The voice answered harshly and then lowered in intensity, “Come on kid you know more than this than I do!”
“I-I d-don’t k-know! U-uncle told me I wasn’t r-ready!” The worries on the back of the stubborn man's mind lifted as little Millie spoke, she was safe. And scared half to death.
“Step aside!” A new voice added itself to the mix, a deep male voice.
“Mars!” Mikayla said happily confirms Nash's suspicions.
“I said, MOVE!”
It took all around a second to think about what he was about to do. But before they could even blink Nash was screaming at a pitch none would believe possible at his age. It felt like being stabbed multiple times in each space possible throughout my body with a rusty knife as it twisted inside the flesh. Very common feeling.
But luckily, or unluckily, Nash wouldn't have to stay around to feel how he trashed around while held down for his own safety. The complete "healing" would take twenty seconds, but it really didn't matter as the unwanted unconsciousness of dreaming took him whole.
Nash became conscious with a voice inserting a thought. Not knowing where he was, or how he got there. The only thing I knew was the need to run. Legs seemed pulled by the ankles by a solid grip and my arms following the motions by the same feeling in the wrists.
He saw a hallway, long as infinity. It was filled with green cloths on the floor and beds with wheels on the sides, there was even candy on the walls, they appeared and repeated their positions like a broken record in the hallway again and again, like an old cartoon with a huge cowardly Great Dane and his skinny green shirted friend that liked to constantly eat. The numbered rooms passed by were empty and bare of life. All with one number.
A͝͏̵͝n̸̸̢ ̀͜͠͝ò̷̕͘͠l͝͞͞d̕͜͢ ̨̡h́͢o͘s̵̕p̢͢҉͠í̶̛͝͝t̴̷́͝á͏҉͟ļ̀̀͘͢. The voice said rushing into Nash’s head, it felt as it came from nothing. The floor became grass. The man’s reasonable brain questioned the possibility of it all. But the "run" thought once again blocked anything else but the need to push himself further forwards. The acknowledged fear grew deeper, the pull stronger and the grass taller. And the running was so fast it looked as if he was flying over it. The grass were now trees, and Nash ran harder, breaking the trees with inhuman strength, and pulling and smashing the ground with with impossible speeds.
The voice became familiar. And just like that it hit, but then it slipped away, but that was enough for the world twist with the chanting "run" dissipating.
Nash’s eyes got to his wrists and ankles. They were held by shackles that couldn’t be felt and chains connected to them making no sound as they moved and barely visible. With gritting teeth, trying to use the caramel trees to fight against the invisible puppeteer Nash was with little awareness fighting back. Like in a dream when you fight something and you know not why, but you do it with as much spirit like an ignorant soldier at war. But the trees were brushed through them like sticks.
Additional chains flew through the end of the hall to increase their hold, uniting with the ones that already were.
I͟’̡vȩ ̵àĺręa͡ḑy ̴w̷o͠n,͟ Pro͞f͞essor.̸
The voice was recognized. And like hearing reality through a thick sleep, Nash was fully aware. And knew where he really was. His eyes popped wide, mind clear. Sharping them both with rightful reasoning beholding the walls they got faker with each glance. The doors disappeared as did the green cloths and the bed. The trees remained, but they would be no problem.
One powerful conscious step was all it took, accelerating one hundred times the speed already gone into the thin string of the shackles was outmatched by the velocity, collecting behind as the infinite hallway finally had an end. A wall with a worm hole of black, glowing lines of code spinning and rotating from side to side in a circular motion.
‘A way out,’ and a smiled came as Nash remembered, ‘just like the real one.’
Yo̵u҉r n̡a̴t͞u҉re͏ kn͢ows ͜it̀ ̷t̸o̶ be ̛ine͜v́i͢t̢ablé.̀ Y͏o̷u̧ ́wilĺ se̸ek̶ mę.̧ An̨ḑ I will͠ wa̛it͡.
Nash busted through the portal, shackles only lasting a millisecond before breaking one by one. And so he flew away from the darned place reaching the horizon of the visible world. Because after all. This was only a dream.
But outside there was the void. The dark and empty void.
Empty, not silent.
Static, screeches, screams and shouts resounded through the darkness. Painful intensity, but it was better than the alternative of oblivion. The man made system was visually unsatisfying by how incredible it sounded. Interconnected dreams, yet, there was nothing impressive on its actuality, at least visually. It was all dark and void like floating in a sense-taking lake.
Nash wasted no time and formed a ball around him with his still stable mind, the outside would be uncolored like the rest of the world so the winged horned horses moving from mind to mind to cause pain would pass by like if he was invisible to them. The nightmares are personal, and so are your tortures. But he forgot about that, saving someone here would be fruitless as they would fall asleep again and hell would start over.
He had to rest without being found by the guard dogs of the realm of dreams. If he wanted to have better judgment when he would be inevitably awoken. It was the best way to sleep really, with agonizing yelps of other people's nightmares reaching you.
But there was something strange about the place that day. There was more in the darkness. It wasn’t hard to see really, a color in such a dark place would pop out, even the color blue. Nash was curious of this but not stupid, and simply observed from afar.
It was a book from what he could tell. Blue stars in it, four in total, and all in a representation of whirling around in a circle of less intense blue with "Harmonious Future" written in white on the front. Then the rest of it came about, colors hurting any eye that would dare see them by their intensity. Five surrounding the book, eight around the book two of which I could swear were a sun and moon looking stones and one star looking thing in the center oscillating around the book in a circular motion. Nash himself could only huff a laugh, thinking, “What kind of twisted circus was that bitch thinking up now?”
Without warning Nash contracted from the stomach in pain. His horrible safe haven shook and crumbled. The sound stopped. The real world was coming to say hello.
A blow to the gut had cancelled his sleep, a grunt and a whine was the intelligent response. A voice stated, “You see, he’s up,” before the feeling of being pulled up into sitting position by the neck piece of my still surviving shirt came about. Nash was immediately greeted with a familiar headache. ‘There goes the good rest.’ He thought while lazily opening his eyes and straining to see what was in such a hurry to have a conversation.
He saw first that he was in a pod, didn’t know which at the moment. It had the standard military grey hull looming over, as well as the typical blast doors. A big one of those doors in front and a small one on the left, and windows which he could only see in the distance constantly flashing yellow and green in low intensity and intervals, a white light however illuminated the room making the man awe in the glory of visibility he had lost not hours ago.
The ship itself was in good condition. The room decorated with people, covering most of the floor as the blast chairs in the sides were full. Those on the floor were tied to the chairs with re-enforced military level rope, some next to compressed oxygen tanks. But then something dark green caught Nash’s attention, looking up, the silly man smiled. Repair bots, preferably called them Repair Roaches. Nash was impressed some were still left.
Not bigger than an actual cockroach they were very useful as a replacement to maintenance for big ships or machinery. In his mind the dark green buggers must have their very own unique variant frequency by human control or automated. If not, they would’ve been opening my skin and tearing people to pieces left and right like everything else control of the enemy. Fond memories. They were making their routine programming, checking every nook and cranny of the hull, verifying for any sign of damage or leaks. They were always a useful tool to have.
There was a distant but constant buzzing sound and beeping sound. The buzzing was recognized as a high power laser, alternative current if the sound was anything to go by. The beeping was a sensor of a high caliber turret or a micro-furnace baking a cake, Nash believed the former, and he would love cake right then. But those auto-turrets do give a sense of safety even if just a little.
But then as it should’ve been a while ago, Nash caught how everyone stared at him. And astonishing as it might sound, Nash had forgotten he was being carried on his shirt.
“Hey!” A powerful yell assaulted all ears Nash panned down as quickly as he could, which was relatively slow, sighting the attacker. Only to be received by a familiar face that was in very bad shape.
Hair flattened out with distinctive dark color, clothes of military application with pockets and shoulder pads, blue silver-lined suit underneath glowing like no one’s business with metallic pieces strategically placed, most looking ripped out, skin still brown-ish in color, some discoloration here and there, wounds on waist and arms, burns of some kind, dark eyes not hiding their gaze at me and not a sign of true age was always a plus. It was always a nice thing to see his sister alive and mostly well.
“Margaret? How—AGK!” Nash’s friendly greeting was painfully rejected through a fist to his face with a fist he didn’t see coming, eyes watering by reaction. Many yells stated their disliking, but by the way they all stopped and quickly became murmurs Marge eyed them as if she was going to kill them all. She turned back with a hump. Ah sisterly care.
“Don’t you dare "Margaret" me! I’ve been in the dark for way too long and I want an explanation, NOW!” Margaret said, annoyance of the situation was already overpassed her limit. She was pretty strong lifting a fully grown man by the collar with one arm, and punching him in the face in the other, but Nash wasn’t feeling like complimenting her would help. And as absolutely nothing came to his mind to say, a tiny hand reach over his shoulder, with a simple game of counting Nash knew it wasn’t Marge’s.
“I get you being mad but… but you don’t have to be mean about it.” Mikayla whispered loud enough for Margaret to hear the beginning, but not the end.
“Don’t you start kid, if it was not for you, this shit I'm starting wouldn’t be as bad in the first place!” Margaret shouted back. By how the silence spread, Millie was looking as if she was about to cry, but the sister would have none of it.
“Hey.” Nash yapped. Not thinking anyone actually understood what he said, that's what you get while yapping something, but it still earned a glare and changing the warmonger's wrath’s direction, “How are you?”
“I have no time for this. What the hell did you do, what the fuck happened to everything, damn it be all, what happened to the bloody sun?!” Margaret responded wailing her free hand, and Nash, at each question. Millie had hidden to where she found best, shrinking more at each swear and so did most people in the room, they weren’t used to those. “I’m tired of this crap!”
“That’s enough!” Roared Mars interrupting the sure to come barricade of ‘sisterly kindnesses. He wasn’t in the same room, but the speech was loud and clear from the walls. “Miss Nash, enough, you will have your answers, but when we are safe to tell them.” Mars said voice full of false patience, Nash sighed of relief. Margaret was not close to calm however.
“And what better moment than now, huh kid?” She howled at her side to a blast door where Nash deduced was the Pilot cabin, “We are flying at a speed that those things can’t match, why the hell not?!”
To her statement, Nash’s attention begged to see the pressure window to the right which had constantly been flashing yellow and green in low intensity and intervals. It had a good view of the outside from my lifted angle, I just had to move my head over a little.
Night time would be the first thing anyone would think by looking at the sky outside, no moon in the sky would normally mean a night of ‘new moon’. No clouds made it easy to see everything up to the horizon. The speed the ship was going made it hard to see details, but those far away were impossible to miss.
The best way to describe it was fire. There was not only fire, just many things that could be confused with the simple exited particles throughout the landscape. Explosions, fireballs, lightning shots, explosive bullets, the momentary flash bomb and even a green beams predicting the fall of the next man-made rock converting the floor into squishy paste.
In the horizon lightning strikes of rainbow fell to earth, purging it clean. No sound could be made out thankfully, which Nash found momentarily odd, but then thought of the distance added with the hull. It would be strange if you heard anything at all. Or he could be deaf, but it wouldn’t make any sense, but it would be interesting. Being deaf. Just for a moment of course. But it’s still a horrible thing, hearing is so nice.
“Because we are not safe!” Mars answered back from wherever he was. Oh, yes, in the cabin.
“…What?” Margaret asked almost as if she was told the universe was one dimensional. “We are thousands of meters in the air, traveling at a speed that can only be reached by a spaceship, and you are telling me we are not safe?!”
“We are always in harm’s way, this "safety" will not last here forever ma’am! Get to your position!” And with that final yell a momentary static signaled the coming silence.
Nash regarded what Marge was thinking as she remained silent, anger boiling softer. He could really not answer her unless until he himself was ready too. She gave him a long pissed off look that told me the discussion wasn’t over. And only after throwing Nash back down and on top of Mikayla, who ‘eeped’ from the drop, Marge stomped her way to the back of the ship.
People opened way in her process to the tail. And once there, Margaret was surrounded by fellow soldiers to calm her, not that they would actually know they make it worst. Hu-droids are or man-made—or made with men—soldiers of today’s world. Easily identifiable with their white hair, and pale skin; side effects of their making and lack of contact with sun, except for the markings on the whole body, more direct connection with muscle and for easier and faster reaction in vehicle combat. In the past some would’ve considered it odd having connection with muscle instead of the brain directly. But ever since the whole muscle memory improvement deal, it was a must.
She yelled and smashed a metallic wall with her fist, bending it slightly, the ominous looking warriors sidestepped giving her some space. Curious from the sound Nash squinted his old eyes, finding surprise on how he didn’t notice it before.
Humongous sized thing. It’s what would be denominated "Giant Killer Bipedal Robot" by mecha enthusiasts. Basically a giant person made of metal, this one missing a head and mammoth sized blocky limbs, legs bent on an angle making possible for the modernized tank looking wheels to move freely and keep the thing upright. The machine was in after battle condition having scratches and pieces missing and obvious cracks. It was still shiny though. Small dark repair roaches surrounded the machine, going into the damaged points and doing their best to fix them.
Marge scaled the leg reaching its mid-section. Not even sparing a glance at the roaches she furiously pressed a long combination of numbers into a spot on the center. The chest sprigged open and she entered mumbling suggestions for Nash to do something physically impossible with his posterior.
With the curiosity of his sister’s situation left for another day, Nash traced back to his current state through the last place he felt anything, his gut, which was strangely flattened, under a broken burned shirt, and glaringly unhygienic healed wounds. Nash tried to get into a more comfortable position but his neck cracked stiff, forcing him in place. “Merde.”
“Uncle don’t move!” Mikayla "yelled" under the man. He had completely forgotten about her location as he disobeyed her and fell from his chair to release his niece. She was in clear disagreement to the decision as she screeched while picking him up and shoving him to his seat.
Mikayla had no visual anomalies, or what can be called having tears of unrest or sadness falling into the dark bags under her fake blue eyes, sadly pale skin, showing ribs with cloths on, the perfect condition person. Her hair still had its unique ginger locks, still vibrant which Nash smiled for. Her clothes were whole at least, she would be wearing a simple pants and shirt if Nash wasn’t a responsible family member and gave her my coat, and its synthetic fur covered her whole.
With her state rationalized glanced to his seat. He was in a trance while analyzing as Mikayla was no longer standing but on the next chair, and Nash was roped with all the belts the seat could give.
“You shouldn’t move, you should eat,” Millie said worry on her voice lifting a bit, Nash moved his eyes to his belts and her, the warm smile didn’t waver. “Tau and Nu were called to help in the front, they told me they would come back for you when you were awaked. Stay still alright. Please.”
“Sure thing, but only after you.”
“I already had something.” She was not that good at lying, not only because she was skinny, but because her breath had no smell to it.
“Well, alrighty then, but do you think you know where we are?” Nash asked already knowing the answer and waiting with anticipation. She froze up, eyes opened wide and mouth closed, as if paralyzed. And spoke.
“Grand A-class pod, type seven. Made to transport huge cargo two thousand miles before needing an energy refill. Engineering bay on back, and no medical deck, it can sustain heavy attack from high caliber gatling or ionizer for fifteen seconds on standard firing before needing repair.” Mikayla replied monotony, eyes staring at space. She blinked a couple of times before her emotion showed again, a small smile. Reaching with a hand Nash ruffled her crazy hair.
“Thank you, Millie.” He did love the little google.
Catching an eye Jupiter and Tau appeared from the frontal cabin, nodding Nash informed Mikayla who said hi on her fashion. The two boys joined into the light and Nash updated their state.
Tau was fine for all visible features, the bags under his squinted eyes seem as a requirement to be alive nowadays. He had his yellow like skin tone proving his health, as well with his messy short brown hair moving freely. His suit gave all one needed to know about his mental health. Scratch marks were along the suit under a jacket he tried to use to cover them. The young man needed to have a talking into, but Nash was never going to find it on how things were now.
Jupiter was the best one with all things considered. Sure he was missing an arm and he was depressed to the point of suicide, but his golden eyes didn’t have a very bad sign of sleep deprivation. Long hair burned long ago, but he still had most of it reaching his shoulders. Still orange though. Why was that color chosen Nash will forever question.
The two boys were in a hurry as they didn’t speak a word, glancing at Nash’s belts they stopped to lift an eyebrow before going below my seat and pulling something under that shook it loose. Millie "shouted" her disapproval, but still followed when Nash was taken into the pilot cockpit.
Displaced into the very generously spaced cabin, a seat in the side was removed by one of the young soldiers and Nash was placed in compensation. The position even had a pressure window next to it. Fancy. Millie quickly strapped herself behind, earning a roll of eyes from everyone that was able to see.
The tired boys left to their posts, Tau to the once empty co-pilot seat to verify something as Jupiter to the screens on the side showing maps with distinct locations. Nash was able to think, ‘I’m here to be briefed, or interrogated, any of which that gets me something to eat faster, the better.’
The pilot, Mars, wasn’t visible. The front had many screens with videos of someone’s perspective showing the fight below, some lasted a couple of seconds, a shining misanthrope, an anthro denier or an evolved animal rushing into the camera before the camera flashed off, a "dead" tag covering the screen just as another took its place. And only a couple were entering the back of a moving pickup scout, smaller than the one Nash was in, and turn off the video with a "safe" tag instead.
They didn’t attend Nash for a moment, so he took it as a good sign to rest. The nightmare was good, but not enough. But it did give an idea, one long forgotten by how philosophically nailing it was.
But that was Nash’s situation for the moment. And even though someone not far away was feeling equally tormented.
“RRAAAAAAAGHHHH! FUCKING DAMMIT!”
Screaming in frustration is always a stress reliever for most. And there are not many places that it can be done with no interruption, and much less with minimum damage.
The ‘MRCC-7’, whatever that meant, was the exosuits given to Margaret to fight the instant her bearings were at check n go. A safe refuge where she could do anything, a place she felt in control and to be respected. The only one left. The last three days had been more than a train wreck, an asteroid-crashing planet-destroying apocalypse level, wreck.
Attempting to calm herself with nice thoughts, out of the momentary burst and fist to the metallic wall, Margaret rested her face between her palms. For her the good thinking would be her long dead husband, and baby brother, both of which she was told dead three days ago.
Well, the brother wasn’t completely true, but he sure as hell was dead to her. Margaret needed to constantly remind herself the old man she met was him. The last she had seen of the little chump was on his birthday to be seventeen, a kid that snickered every time he talked, whom went on and on about the things he loved. Clumsy, forgetful, and absent minded.
Three days ago she found a grown old, old and decrepit weird man calling himself her brother. A shock no one should live by. No explanation to the state of affairs, he just handed her a gun and told her to fight the many things wanting her dead ever since. Only for the reason that she knew how to drive a tank back home was that she could manage the supposedly old giant robot she was currently in.
“Are you crying in there?” A voice entered Margaret’s transmitter suddenly, with a chuckle to boot. Margaret coughed quickly, if there was something she wouldn’t allow was to sound weak at those that consider her a monkey behind her back.
She prepared her voice to not be raspy before she responded in her usual manner. “Fuck you.”
“Yes, she’s alright.”
“How are you talking to be, or better yet, why are you, Ace, giving yourself some low spirit like the rest of this emo fest and want to talk about it?” Margaret called back, a nice distraction to not think, thinking was for after given a true moment alone with her ‘brother’, only if that little whiny girl stopped interrupting. Preparing the seat she was on, Margaret checked, or in this case stare, the board in front of her that she couldn’t fully understand.
“Communicator on the right side of your collar, and those ‘emo’, as you say, Sergeant, are in view of the great amount of sitting still and waiting for something to happen. It’s a world of titans out there, and no mortal can survive it.” Another voice replied other than Ace, a more serious female one.
“Ha! Yeah right, Lucy, those so called mortals are the closest thing I have ever had to an evolved, other than the evolved outside. They give me the creeps and have nothing to complain about, there are still alive, no?”
“And with what hope, huh? We were left to die in this place Ace, and the ones to lock the exit were our friends. We are grasping straws here.”
“Way to sound like a whiner there, Lucy, are you going mushy on me?”
“Go to hell, Ace.”
“What? So wizened off insults you swipe from the sergeant?”
“That’s enough.” Margaret growled over the two voices. “If you two lovebirds are going to continue going at each other’s throats, at least do it in your robot man-suits, ready for anything.”
“Oh! Oh! I have heard of that term before! Where does it come from?” A third voice added itself to the mix, a voice that made Margaret groan in frustration. ‘What had happened to my safe haven’. she thought “The phrase was due of how common intimate relations happened on a daily basis, right?”
“Way to sound like a modern geek, Talia, with that kind of talking I don’t see why the sergeant never answers.”
“That was sarcasm, right? And I still don’t know why we still keep using that old military title... still awesome though.”
Margaret didn’t know if she hated the group, or it was a nice distraction. Ace was like any old style high school asshole psycho, Lucy was like a fiery redhead but without red hair, and finally Talia, a fanatic retro junkie whose whole life out of the military was to learn everything she could about the information era, hence her liking to Margaret’s person. And the only reason Margaret knew so much of Talia was her continuous attempts to ‘exchange information’.
“Of course it was, and why don’t you ask things like this to my brother?” At the mention the radio went silent, Margaret sighed in relief. Asking about her brother was the only way to shut people up around the place.
“Hey, speaking of which, hitting the old timer, which I found hilarious by the way, is not going to give you any friends, with all being his students and all.” Ace was the one to speak, in an uncharacteristic serious voice. Margaret gave a small laugh.
“If it makes you feel any better Sarge, none of us really know either. It’s all in a ‘need to know basis’,” Talia let out another set of giggles, “it’s not like they can hide the obvious, if you asked the right questions maybe they can slip something.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like "why don’t we just fly out of here?" We are in a space pod after all.”
“Uncle Nash, could I ask you something?” Mikayla asked, barding in my thoughts. Nash glanced to see her eyes, she flinched for a second before continuing. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“We all do now, sweaty.” Nash told her quietly, just noticing his throat was burning. “No more questions until we are safe alright?”
“One more?” Millie asked in her want-something tone she always adapted when she desired something.
Nash smiled with the best of his ability and replied, “Ask away.”
She was a bit nervous, stealing a quick glance at the boys, she asked, “What did that lady back there meant by shoving your head up your own... behind? I don’t think she’s using it right.” Nash almost choked on oxygen.
“Excuse me, Sigma, but the Professor needs to answer us first.” Tau introduced himself to the question, to Nash’s eternal gratitude. Mikayla could only pout.
“And it can’t wait anymore.” Added Jupiter, patting the pilot in the shoulder, Nash looked at Mars, who was in a very tense state. His messy red hair told his state of affairs, while his ebony lost color each day.
“Your brother has taught you at least how to ask things I see. Ask away, Mars.” Nash said over the unnerving silence. He coughed without covering his mouth and stared at me with an investigating gaze, as if searching for something. Whichever it was he shook his head and looked at Nash’s eyes to speak.
“When we were proposing plans, your proposals were denied, right?” Mars asked, voice in serious need for some liquid as it came out raspy. He coughed again achieving worried glances between Jupiter and Mikayla. Tau was back in his place ignoring the problem completely as if it wasn’t happening.
“Yes, we made that pretty clear, you were there, all crazy talk.”
“Well, we have too little options now, don’t we? We tried the last four and our numbers have fallen remarkably low. If this goes on we are not going to survive. So, could you repeat your proposals again, or better yet, the best one, no matter how ‘crazy’.” Mars plead in the only way he knew. Jupiter got into the cabinets in search, coming out triumphant with a small term. Shaking it for proof of its content he gave it to Mars.
“Are you sure? I was already told mad you know? And even so the plans were proven with people, not multiple building sized ships.” Nash replied considering of what Mars said, the implications were ominous. Mars drank a small amount of the term he was given, making his voice less raspy as he spoke.
“There are more than one thousand survivors telling the complete opposite. And even if true, the only other two ideas are to surrender and hope for the best or blast ourselves up and take everything with us by activating our He-Bomb on Yellowstone, which we don’t want. Now tell me your plan.” Mars was awfully serious about it, and Nash sighed, giving a look at Millie, a specific look she recognized, she nodded and covered her ears and closed her eyes. Nash rotated back to Mars, it was something hard to talk about.
“The thing with my plans...” Nash began saying, recollecting all that he needed to say.
But then the world turned red.
The lights inside Margaret’s cabin flashed red, making her react by nature and hold her controls. The communication right then was saturated with Mars’s voice.
“Brace!” The only thing keeping Margaret from flying all around in her cabin was the restraints of her chair, the whole things turned in an odd angle, but the giant armor was magnetically anklet so there was no worrying of it dangling around the inner hull.
The whole ship snapped violently upwards, Nash felt my back fuse with the seat. Those in the small cabin with time to brace were now holding to anything they could, Jupiter on Mars’s seat, Tau with a graspable piece of the floor and Mikayla grabbing Nash by the hand. It was going to be a wild ride.
A gatling firing and a buzzing could be heard. They were impossible to miss as they were loud as turrets could be. Not even the screaming of a whole ship full of still conscious people was enough to overcome it, only Mars and his amazing amplifiers.
“Hold on!”
And holding they did. The ship became an Olympic dancer. First ascending to a ridiculous height all the way making sure that it rotated as much as possible, stopping and re-rotating with no particular pattern. Declaring to all small objects they were free to cause as much additional chaos, and damage, as possible.
Mars must’ve turned off the engines at some point as the ascension stopped and the world was hold in mid-air for less than a second before gravity reclaimed its rightful place pulling us down, but not without a fight.
Mars re-directed the ship over itself backwards composing three-fourths of a somersault that rectified the trajectory to earth. But in the midst of the spin Nash passed one point to see those behind. Giving a full view of who was following.
What was following.
They were big, they were mean, they had claws, they had scales, they had a breath that could kill and they were multi-colored. All in one ugly package. They were one of the many beasts that hunted all men down, maybe even the worst. It was not a kind experience to meet one, much less to be in its way. Many of the ships behind didn't have any say in that matter, most tackled and pulverized.
“I hate dragons.”
In a short fragment of a second Nash could understand what was going on. The turrets did their job and gunned down the things at a fast rate, but that rate wasn’t enough as they discovered the power of teamwork and close quarters flying by switching places with the one being burned by the laser or mauled by the gun to another behind, giving time for the hurt to recover and leave to the end of the line to begin the cycle again. Only because of the additional front turrets that Mars added by his look back, made the horde look less imposing, blasting through the center.
With Mars’s spin completed the horizon was at sight, which they quickly joined with the nine g-force acceleration that the ship got to do. Nash’s seat, as Mikayla’s, angled from their controlled bases and received the force from fronts to back. Nash could imagine all those seated had the same experience. But again, not everyone in the ship was seated.
But the speed reached wasn’t enough.
The ship shook and the lights changed to a blinking red to orange, the acceleration eased momentarily. Nash was no military soldier, nor pilot, but he could confidently say that the change meant we had a huge scaly creature of about the size of the ship mounted to the back and preparing to make itself a feast with their bodies as it reached through his window.
Especially with its claw looming dangerously over his window.
“What the hell is going on?!” Right as Margaret’s words were said to her comrades, the whole ship shook and the cabin’s color changed into a flashing orange, only adding to Margaret’s frustration.
“Orange light! We just got mounted by something!” Lucy said anxiously, but it was more due to them being caught off guard outside the suits than having something so close to kill them all. The acceleration came back, and they hold on to anything to not get flung with deadly speed to a wall.
“By what?!” ‘Oh this is just bloody perfect.’
“It’s our job to see! All in vehicles!” With that said the ship rumbled like a house with a tornado inside, many things were flying around and breaking, but within the confines of her suit, Margaret could only guess what was going on outside. “Disconnecting the mechs now! Sergeant you are free and charged, go ahead!”
“Nash!” Mars’s alarmed yell to her last name was all that she needed to hear.
The tools were hard to knob as only recently the lady learned to handle them, but a soldier gets things done. Even with constant acceleration threatening to make her leave her seat, she continued on to start the metal beast. With a good selected amount of buttons pressed and switches flicked the small compartment vibrated as energy poured into the massive engines and computer, last of which began to state the processes of activation.
“Got it!” Replied Margaret into the microphone inside her clothes. Heart pumping hard as a recent family meeting had given her a hard on to kill. She could only stare uneasily at the computers initiation sequence. If there was something that under no circumstances would change with time, was the computers’ slow startup.
"—Boosters, online, extremities, online, central brain control, online—"
The front screen flashed red, blue, and green then it frizzled with black and white. Finally a full image comparable to opening the front of the armor making everything outside visible by its definition, with a small indicator of "type of vision" on the right down corner, which could be switch to infrared.
“Are you ready to kick some alien behind, sergeant?! Let’s do this!” Ace said his crazy distinctive battle cry, the ship made a distress call by the straining metal giving Margaret even more reasons to get a move on.
“Come on you fat tin can!” The "tin can" gave a slow and powerful strain as its wheels broke the inertia with Margaret stepping on the advance pedal. Once she arrived at the gate that separated the repair deck to the back engineering deck, right when it opened, and Margaret’s eyes went wide before she asked. “Hey, do we have any other way getting outside other than the exit doors?!”
“None, Sergeant.” Called out a synchronization of voices off her headset, the combination of Lucy, Ace and Talia, the three synched voices sent shivers up Margaret’s spine by the sheer creepiness of such a thing. Margaret didn’t know if to feel glad by not having a chip in her head which blended her mind to others, or sad for having to listen to them. “It’s that gate or nothing.”
Margaret cursed, looking at the faces of all the people still conscious screaming stuck at the doors by the accelerating force, a dangling rope showing why they were there, all spread out from top to bottom. And they were asking her to open the door with them still stuck.
“Fuck that.” Margaret worked quickly, removing as many people as she could, doing so gently as the "hands" of the thing were not meant to be gentle. The ship shook again but this time something broke by the sound of it.
“Sergeant!” Margaret had already placed seven of thirty people to safety as the creepy triplets arrived. “We need to get out there now!”
“Hey there’s people stuck on the doors, the faster we get them off, the faster we can get out!” Margaret grabbed the last concentrated group of three, only twenty more. The screen stated that the cabin was under attacked, but she was with no time to think about it.
“No time!”
“Wha—”
‘Central override command acknowledged.’
The back breech door opened, a loud hiss of condensed air gave out pressure which could only be overcome by the cries of people flying out the doors to their assured death. Margaret reached for the dangling ropes to hold as many as she could, but to all the others she could only stare as they flew away, her breath gone as the people extended far from her sight.
“What the hell was that?!” Margaret screeched with fury at her communicator, pulling inside the last couple of the survivors.
“Mars opened the doors! We are needed outside!”
“Fuck Mars—!”
“Yeah, let’s do this!” Yelled the synched voices, Ace’s overlapping the rest. Margaret felt the need to growl. The three suited soldiers dashed and jumped outside. ‘At least pretend that you give a damn.’
With the back door opened the thing’s green-scaly-spiky tail was visible, swinging across from side to side. The thousands of other ships could be seen fighting in the background. But Margaret was feeling sick with what just happened to pay it any attention, taking a deep breath and keep her head on the moment.
But there was a great amount of nothing that she could do. Now, at least. After however, there would be a beating directed to a person named after a small red planet. There had to be a few benefits of having no relation to the army anymore.
And no more time was wasted, Margaret stepped on her pedal and the suit roaring its engine, steam leaving its extremities. And with the accumulated force, she leaped outside.
‘Back-jets, side-jets, activated.’
The auto-controls worked outstandingly, turning on and off certain boosters located in different points of the armor in admits of the air, the mech got into a good position to grapple itself to the lizard’s tail slipping off somewhat because of the scales but then keeping in place as if magnetized, which didn’t receive damaged. In the inside, the pilot restrains kept her in place, seat displacing freely to damp the exterior forces.
“I fucking hate dragons!” Margaret yelled in her cabin, pushing the arm levers forward and grasping the small handle with a mighty vise grip, the main screen showing how the outside arm did the same, nanoseconds of difference.
First course of action was scaling its tail, then was to cause as much havoc as possible while scaling to keep the thing from striking any weaknesses of the ship. It was the strategy all the others were doing attacking the spine, claws and even base of the tail where Margaret passed with a glare to the robot rider. Attacking the wings would be a good start.
“Take it!” Margaret violently shoved the arm lever. The gigantic enemy roared in pain as the exosuit’s right "hand" cracked the thin skin layer. But the dragon didn’t let go, it would die before leaving the ship free. By the Martians design —the name of the ship— there were few weak spots. And Margaret paled when the dragon lifted its right claw high and back and aimed for the main one.
The air of the ship quickly left, as well as the pressure. Nash closed his eyes tight as glass flew all over with his ears stinging by the deafening sound. The giant claw forcefully reached inside the window.
Nash felt a hand grip his head placing a breathing device on, he steadily turned and saw Jupiter, already wearing a breather himself, trying to disconnect Nash from the chair. Mikayla did her best to hold the young man in place, already with her breather. Searching Nash found Tau who was in a better position, able to hold himself on the specialized barred steel on the floor, using the absence of a co-pilot to have a breather himself.
The claw reached inside startling everyone in the cabin, sliding in until the window’s diameter was too small for the arm, from the tip until right before the scaly elbow. It was trying to reach something, or someone.
The responding wave of the powerful strike on the rest of the dragon’s body was so violent it forced one of the exosuits scaling and hurting it to lose its grasp and be forced off the dragons back. But with the powerful combined force of all its boosters it had, it got on the dragons scaly body safely, giving Margaret an idea.
Nash did a great work to become the seat he was already part of due to the accelerating force, and as the huge claw barbed and brought to pieces everything it touched he could hear the muffled shouts of Jupiter and Mikayla behind. And by simply looking to the left it was implicit, why. Tau was looking prepared to do something idiotic, body ready to jump, staring at the searching extremity with a stupid found bravery or increasing insanity.
Using both arms and pedals, Margaret accelerated her feet wheels before she rose to bipedal stand on the dragon’s back, the counter force against wind resistance and the ship‘s constant acceleration was enough to keep her stable, before —with a yell to the computer— the exosuit advanced with her arm boosters, aiming to the back of the thing’s head. The other suited soldiers saw the action, and thinking in sync in advance they reached each to the arm and legs that kept the dragon in place.
Releasing his grip and mask, Tau flew back colliding with the outstretched arm of doom from under its wrist and proceeded to enter his baton under its scales. The feeling for the scaled arm was obvious as it jerked and latched, trying to get the invader off. Pumping the baton’s handle, sparks of electricity lighted up Tau’s crazy looking face.
The thing’s roar overcame the wind as the arm, with Tau still on it, smashed against everything it could in the cabin, ceiling and floor respectfully as it sluggishly pulled out the window. Everyone could’ve sworn Tau was laughing. "Come on! You need to try this! Whooho!"
“No. You. Fucking. Don’t!” Margaret emphasized with each second passed in her charge. The dragon seemed to have been in trouble already, trying its best to take its arm out the window, but Margaret was one coin too short to care.
The arm was pulled out the ship, crashing Tau against the window’s remaining hull for not letting go, losing his baton in the process.
The armor collided with the back of the dragon’s skull scales with a sound comparable to a tree being crushed. The dragon yelped and for the tenths of a second it lost grip on the ship, but retained its bearings to continue its mission.
Or at least that was what was going to happen if there weren't three exosuit soldiers waiting for such an opportunity. They grappled the extremities in their moment of feebleness, the dragon wouldn’t hold long.
“Activate all your boosters, now! We need to take it off by the front!” Margaret yelled with a vise grip on the neck of the dragon, right hand changing to a better weapon to end the situation.
“There’s no need Sergeant, we can take care of it!” The three answered back in sync.
“You three haven’t fought a dragon! These things breathe fire! It, facing the ship, bad!”
“Sergeant, this is not a mythological dragon it’s a—”
“Shut it! Do as I say or I break you three into pieces!” Margaret said. As if to prove her point the dragon released a pillar of fire, missing the ship only because of a tug on part of Margaret. In that very moment the weapon selection was completed and from where her right hand once was, an impressively big, old style chainsword took its place.
“Computer again, boosters, now! Everyone, now!” Margaret yelled forcing her new weapon into the back of the dragon’s head, pulling the trigger in her lever. Understanding the command, the back, side and arm boosters of her, and everyone else’s armor, activated.
Not two seconds after the arm had left the vicinity the ship shook again, but this time the lights, which hadn’t stopped blinking since the horror began, returned to the permanent red it had before.
“Where to, professor?!” Mars screamed through the amplifier looking at Nash, he was occupied by a small model of the ship in a screen with parts that are blinking red. The shaken Elder could see the "shut breaches" message filling as he progressed it in the writing-board. Searching he found the only screen that remained showing a map, and knew what to do.
The ship’s stability, even with the wind, was still walkable. The adrenaline rush of the situation got Nash moving easy enough to stand. Mikayla was giving him an earful, which is why he was graceful of the deafening wind.
Reaching for the dizzy prodigy madman, Nash placed Tau on the lucky seat. No easy task. Nash even gave him my mask, Tau thankful for it as he breathed deeply into. Nash did the best to not look at Millie as her hands were on the corner of his eye trying to reach. And turning back Nash advanced towards the map screen.
After seven sullen pained, no-oxygen, steps, which also added dodging broken places of the floor and debris on the air, Nash acquired the wiggling mask Tau had left behind in his attempt in suicide. The position Nash needed to locate myself towards the front of the ship to use it gave him a perfect eye shot to the falling form of the most recent creature to almost kill him.
Green coloration, big as I had assumed it to be, with the most dangerous looking spikes anyone has ever seen on its back to tail, teeth sharp as anything could possibly be with lingers of fire leaving its mouth. It was being plummeted to the earth by four small things one eighth its size.
The last part made Nash’s brows rise.
Exoskeleton based armor, or exosuit, as recently seen from someone angry.
“Good luck, sis.” Nash muttered after finally placing the mask. He stared at the screen. The blue radio company map system, a military like map which showed everyone everywhere, at least everyone still able to pick up the signal and make connection.
Nash saw the small blue dots categorized as ‘us’, looked at the air based ones, disappearing at a frightening rate. Each had a small number in top of them, two hundred, and twenty ships remaining. Easily using a palm to expand it, pan it, then zoom it, Nash enabled a location his plan would take site. Double tapping it with a finger to mark it with a red dot.
“Alright everyone, hold on!” Mars shouted pressing a combination of buttons. After nothing happening he made engineers everywhere proud using the base of his hand to meet the screen, the slam making it function.
The wind got weaker, with a glance at the opened window on the side of Nash’s seat being sealed carefully by dark green roaches. Even with the hole closed, the pressure and air was still not restored in the cabin, meaning Millie was not to take her mask off anytime soon. Giving Nash enough time to sit next to Mars in the co-pilot seat and buckle himself into it with no repercussions or yelling whatsoever. It didn’t mean the glare on the back of his head had less intensity.
“How is everyone back there?” Nash asked Mars, mask muffling his voice.
Mars was breathing heavily, eyes distant, in the zone of adrenaline. Nash got comfortable. He didn’t blame the kid, getting on hype, keeping your mind cool to think was a skill that only comes with time. Waiting patiently for him to restore his breathing pattern to normal Nash moved his head to a tune.
“Twenty casualties.” Mars said after a long wait. He beheld Nash in the eye as if expecting something.
”How many due to the giant thing?” Nash asked relaxed, Mars analyzed the screens in front of him. Once he had nothing else to do, he looked at Nash straight in the eyes.
“None.”
“Good job, it would have been everyone if you hadn’t thought fast enough.” Nash praised the kid, heaven knows he needed encouragement to keep his spirit high. A good Hershey’s would do wonders, but praise was all he got. There was a long and uncomfortable pause, which allowed the talking in the back room to spread. They were quite audible with what just happened. Most were insults to the thing, some for Mars, but it was possible he didn’t hear them.
“Right...” He ended, looking at the screens he still had left, specifically the map. He pointed at the marked spot. “What’s that?”
Nash turned at the map once more. Giving a sigh, damn that dream idea.
“Before I tell you, Mars, do you know what it means to lie to keep people happy?”
He looked warily and responded, still keeping an eye in the screens. “Yes, I understand that sometimes it’s necessary.”
No time passes as Nash asks again. “Could you handle a tough truth for everyone? Remembering that if that truth was to be known, no one will ever be happy?”
“What is that place, man this sh— …sorry. Professor, what is going on? Did you keep something secret?” Mars was getting paranoid, a bit of his old slag coming through.
Nash gave him a long stare and replied in a whisper, knowing full well Mars was going to hear.
“If we are able to make this plan work, we need to die.” Mars gazed as if Nash had gone mad, but Nash finished uninterrupted. “We are going to die to survive.”
By Mars’s face, Nash would have to be clearer to what was meant as Mars was already reaching for his weapon just in case the old duke went corrupt, or worse. But Nash wished it was so.
What would you do for a Klondike bar right then? Not even a second passed as the pair saw the ring that needed to be activated. Nash was hoping then that it didn’t look like a dark-evil-looking-white-code-floating portal like in the dream. But if Nash had watched the man on his side instead of the ring of doom, he would’ve cached a hint of Mars planning to kill him the moment it was all over.
But that was on Nash, Margaret however was with a dragon walling and roaring under her sawing weapon, some scales cracking while teeth of the saw bounced off the back of its skull. The thing could do nothing, having only its right leg and tail free, wings useless, it could barely reach any of the exosuits on his neck, arms and left leg.
But the struggle didn’t cease, once Margaret got to the flesh under the scales, the soldiers were having a difficult time maintaining the dragon in place as it did all it could without getting itself hurt for freedom. Once the earth got uncomfortably close the soldiers used their boosters to break the accumulated speed preparing to finish the thing off safely with a nifty fall. A forest of some kind in an urban area became visible as they neared the earth.
"Sergeant, we need to let go now! Sergea—”
The ripping of flesh with treated steel was the most satisfying feeling any person with a frustrating situation could get. Specific people like Margaret of course. She was reaching the spine when the dragon began to glow green. She knew there wasn’t much time to end it, but then again, there was something else she didn’t consider...
"Sergeant!” Margaret felt her armor pulled by two pairs of mechanical arms from her comrades.
They were still falling.
The collision with the ground was powerful. Margaret may have been pulled in the last minute but it wasn’t enough to take all the falling force away. It couldn’t be said the same for the beast, receiving the impact in a body slam vanishing everything on its contact in an instant, and having the four heavy armors fall on top at a lesser speed didn’t give any good more points either.
“Sergeant, up, we are in target range!” The three synced mechs didn’t last a second feeling the recoil of the fall. Already up and running the two of the three pushed the recuperating sergeant to her feet.
“On... on target from who?” Margaret got to ask at mercy of outside forces once more by the hard shoved.
“From up there!”With a momentary glance above a section of the twilight sky turned green. Nothing of such intensity or color from the sky was a good sign in any language. “Here it comes!”
Margaret wasn’t keen to find out what it was all about. Turning the inside engine to the max, they headed on, hastening their used wheels to achieve a high enough speed for flight. They were scot free.
What they didn’t expect was a family car sized crystal-lizard fist to crack the area in front of them.
“Shit! It’s still alive!” The thing was looming over Margaret, face staring at her comrades. And as anyone with a brain she snapped to run for it. The only reason the crystal dragon got a hold of her presence.
The dragon’s neck twisted, cracking its internal bones and anything that was meant to be rigid inside. Margaret met the glowing green dark mist expending eyes of the ugliest dragon version of Godzilla yet. With its mouth opened it released, not a roar of pain for its mutilated neck, but a torrent of flame that met Margaret’s armor head on.
“Sergeant!” The synchronized three responded heading to fight the flame throwing dragon, but they didn’t get too far. A twist of a ten ton body, and in less than a second later all the armored warriors were smacked out of the way by dragon’s tail.
Margaret groaned in frustration, doing her best efforts reestablish her balance as the result of the flames forced her to kneel by the melted exterior armored legs. On a feable attempt to give power to her stance Margaret shoved her electronic controls, only to feel them too stiff, jammed, the sensitive external parts were still on intense heat. She needed to do everything manually. Again.
Grabbing a couple of pulleys abover her seat she released the electrical control and prepared for a direct mechanical controls, dangerous due to the pilot’s direct contact with all that happened outside, in temperature. The inside of the cabin seemed to be only with a chair and a screen, but it had so much more. The cabin became a tight fit as the walls close into her, clamping into her body, but not hindering her body movement.
"Shit that stings." Margaret commented, with a loud hiss and a comment from the computer the connection was established, Margaret growled as her already burned skin began to melt once as the steel connecting with the her body was one thousandth times less of the temperature outside. The coloration of the dirt around her outside was turning green.
“You want us dead so badly?! Come and get some!” With a twist of her body Margaret was in direct control, the armor acted up as if it was a second skin. The screen was right on her face but it was still easy to visualize outside. The dragon who was entertained with the others was in such a indefencive stance against her that it could be considered a crime not to use the oportunity. Activated her chainsword and revving the engine as she drew near the huge menece. A bad moment for the creature to look at the overheated victim.
One eye cutting later and the dragon reeled. With a roar of hurt condensing its feelings the dragon’s right arm extended to flick away any exosuit "stupid" enough to get close. What it received was a cutting edge of a fast ramped saw which cut its hand like a life turkey just because of how hot, yet strong, was the metal of the saw. The dragon’s roar of pain again, Margaret didn’t waste time in activating her boosters to be as far away as possible, the ground was glowing green after all.
Looking back Margaret saw the dragon’s still working eye send a message her way. Its vendetta for its pain would be eternal, until double to triple the pain it had received was given back it wouldn’t rest, it wouldn’t sleep, it wouldn’t do anything else other than hunt her down until each and every single one of her kin was found and burned to a crisp.
But the gaze was cut short by the glare of god as anything in the definitive area was decimated on a flash of green.
Margaret activated all the boosters she had, reaching a just enough safe speed as the wave of force from end to end of the armor. Taking the forest landscape with it and turning it into a squashed version of the original.
A computerized correction later Margaret was on her mechanical feet, presuing her heart to calm its pumping with her deep breaths. On the side of her screen a small radar showed her comrades nearby. And something more.
“Sergeant look out!”
Margaret’s world had decided to lean strongly to the right. The seat was good at damping shocks, but Margaret did feel the crash that came soon after. Trees, rocks, and even a building left behind made their way in her forced trajectory.
But with the auto-movement of her own reflexes she fared against whatever had decided to make friends with her today. In quick trained self-balance and pick-up, she hit the thing, span to turn her body and shoved it away. Margaret was already in a defensive fighting position staring down at where she was sure the thing had ended, but she found nothing, but in amidst of the concentration a feather meet Margaret’s screen.
“Wha—” Margaret wasn’t able to say another word before the whole seat yanked her forward, then to the left, then right, it was the feeling she got inside the ship all over again. But for the end she was rectified —upside down— only her restrains keeping her on her seat.
Margaret got her bearings, and it turned out easier when the feeling of the cockpit getting a grade or two hotter came to perspective. With a quick glance on the inside layer of the armor she saw a small bright red dot on the left side of her seat.
Twisting her burning waist, the whole machine displaced with her, Margaret was able to get a good look at the thing that had her on hold, or in this case things. She even recognized one of them. Delivering a gift-wrapped bazooka to its white flank wasn’t something anyone can forget any time soon. The very same action that almost brought her supposed baby brother’s demise if it weren’t for the freaky healing process.
The flaming-white-shining-winged-horned-horses were not even startled at her shifting as two used their horns to hold her up while another continued to penetrate her lower armor with the deadly beam of doom coming from its catalyzer. But as any would know, an armor piercing round that explodes on impact is much more satisfying to use against a persistent murderer.
With a push of a button the costly bullet that was a one time only use was sent through the means of a hidden barrel on the armor chest. The beamer’s face took it like a champ.
The central horse screeched as the others closed their eyes from the burn. Long enough for Margaret to activate her boosters to align herself the bit she was in a closer relationship with the floor. The flaming mane and glowing eyes of the three horses faded by their inactivity, revealing the normal brown fur horses within. Margaret wasn’t surprised as it wasn’t the first time she had seen the change. But with her back busters and wheel feet she got up close and personal with the Shadowfax wannabes.
The size was obviously different, but appearances were deceiving as the three horses glowed into a familiar white coat, glowing red eyes and flaming mane, the horse took a fighting stance as they lowered their horns. Margaret positioned both hand and still active saw together in her fighting position as she advanced. If previous battles had taught her anything, it was that the horned ones couldn’t be shot if they are not heating their horns or eyes greenly glowed.
The fight was on.
“To all MRCC units, this is your communicator Mars speaking, if you are listening you have received data, we got another plan working! Head to this machine in these coordinates and protect it with your lives!” Mars’s voice emanated from Margaret’s head microphones, right side of her screen flashing with coordinates to a place near old Houston city.
“Busy here!” Margaret yelled back, the winged unicorns were not going to attack themselves. Aiming for the throat of the middle one, and due to her size it was the front of them all, Margaret made a comical but similarly deadly version of a kick. But they dodged it effortlessly reading the attempt. But what they didn’t consider was for Marge to ballet in a full circle, bending the supporting extremity and with excessive power and speed added by boosters, to hit home on one of the things’ stomach sending it colliding violently to a building with large letters spelling out N.A.S.A. Marge was seriously digging the arm and leg boosters.
“Sergeant? Good thing you’re alive! This is Mars, I’m ordering all MRCC’s —you included— to clear the gate! It’s our way out!” At the lack of concentration to the battlefield Margaret failed to catch a hole opening from underneath her. Something bursting out and impacted the center of her already cooled chest plate making it crack. She wasn’t able to react as another slammed her side, and then another rammed her in the back, then another.
Needless to say Margaret was in trouble but a huge step back with boosters that were dangerously overheated she reached safety. Getting into focus she saw what had assaulted her. She paled.
“What the— Ah hell no. What about a gate, Mars? Where are you two?!” Margaret split her attention at her new enemy, moledogs. Dark spikes surrounding their body and sharp blue diamond hard fangs and claws made the threat. The closest one to her seemed to smile as dozens more dug out the ground, eyes with their unnatural glow and green mist, easily surrounding Margaret.
“You have the coordinates! Sergeant your brother is not going to be able to keep it opened long enough for us to escape. Clear the gate!”
“What?!” Margaret stopped unintentionally at the mention of her now suicidal brother, receiving a nasty blow to the side for her trouble almost making her fall. She stood quickly and circled to presence the roar of one of the live crystal bullmans that kept the plains clean of people by opening those very people in half. Fighting the dragon really got her name around, huh? “Like hell he’s going to die, he still has a lot of shit to say for himself!”
“Nash, no. We need a running start to achieve Mach eight and get through that gate in one piece, there’s nothing we can do— wha—?!” Mars was cut off with a grunt of pain, a comment of his "broken nose." Margaret partial concentration avoided another nasty blow of the thing but this time she was stricken from above as another set of flying things joined in the fun, part of her window was dark but she could still see it.
Giant lion-eagle hybrids, glowing crystal transparent feathers and red mist glowing eyes, both of which didn’t give Margaret a nice feel and had scratches of multiple uses. In the background of her communicator Mars and another voice discussed harshly. Margaret recognized the other voice from somewhere. But there was no time to listen as there were about ten things wanting a piece of her. She was in truly in the wrong neighborhood.
With a screech -- the sound of a microphone too close to a speaker -- a new voice spoke from Margaret’s head set. “Hey! Listen!” Margaret had definitely heard her before. It was the little brat that clung to her brother as if he was an emotional crutch. “I’m sending you Uncle’s coordinates! Save him! Please!”
“What’s going on?!” Margaret wasn’t the type that likes being in left the dark as she had shown to all she met.
“Sigma, what are you doing?! Someone hold her!”
“Get to him before they get to him! Hey! What— no! Get your hands off of me you grotesque chromosome-deficient test tube experiments!” The barricade of insults was delivered in between other yells and the repeated sound of face meeting fist as the transmission was cut off. Margaret got a second to ponder before the other unicorn pegasi decided to join in on the fun talking her head on.
“Oh damn, computer auto-turret and energy status! How much do I have left to run like hell?!” The instant she finished asking the screen was blocked with a dashing attacker’s face, Margaret by reflex jumped back and high with her cool leg boosters, but in the sky she was met with many sharp things trying to cut her open, splitting her back in two.
“Hold on Sergeant!” A set of voiced yelled as Margaret felt the situation to be coming to a free. ’About damn time.’ The first thing Margaret saw was three moledogs get grinded into pieces by turret on the right shoulder of each mech coming to her rescue. But only the moledogs were affected as all the others made a barrier or soaked the bullets like nothing.
“Sergeant, you heard Mars’s call, we need to go for that gate!”
“Yeah, that!” With the addition of the coordinates to her guide system and the creatures trying to avoid the automatic turret, Margaret wasted no time to head directly where her brother was supposed to be kept to die. Her attempt didn’t go unnoticed.
“Sergeant?! Where are you going?!”
“To make sure my brother doesn’t take the coward's way out!”
“What does that even mean?!” Margaret toned down their yells as now free to roam she hammered her go pedal to its end and concentrated to avoid anything that could make her travel worse. Basically everything.
The sky was not even dark, neither moon nor sun had mention on the luminosity the forest had. The non stopping green came now and did the sun’s job at day, only being replaced by an explosion from the sky or a blast from a fight nearby.
‘Twenty meters to objective.’ The computer acknowledged for Margaret to take a look at the place she was moving into.
“Is that a hospital?” Margaret commented to herself, which wasn’t classified as such being responded by the computer. ‘Affirmative.’ Margaret rolled her eyes, lowering her tone to not get a reply. “I thought the future would have better looking hospitals.”
And it was not a hospital of its century indeed. It looked like any other Margaret had known, even had the neon sign of ambulance on the front. The only thing that would make the place anything different from the others she knew was the complete lack of windows and the impossibly giant ring two mile high away behind it with obscure looking swirl-y liquid of creepiness on its center. It was delivering an unnatural buzzing sound and glow with white letters that seemed to float on its front.
That’s pretty much the only thing that caught her eye.
“The hell?”
‘Classified.’
“I didn’t— ah, hell with you.”
And with a flick of a switch Margaret’s screen changed into a search screen. Her objective marked in blue inside the building. Human in form.
“Got ya.” The size of the mech was not one to easily enter. But Margaret wasn’t a woman that liked leaving her vehicle parked outside. So she improvised.
The walls of the hospital were re-enforced which caught Margaret by surprise, but it wasn’t long that it surrendered to constant tackles from her giant thirty meter tall exosuit--exaggerating, it was actually eight. The walls were caving in, and to enter completely she destroyed a couple of floors to reach her objective, Margaret at that point was able to hear something she was used to listen to but hadn’t heard in a while. A magnum being used.
She picked up the pace; breaking down the walls and several floors with her still working hand. What she found through the last wall was unexpected. So much so that once she opened it she had to move out of the way as twelve to fifteen beams tried to make her swiss cheese.
“Come on! I know you want me! You will need better aim to not kill me! Aha! Come get some!” Over the bullets fired and the screeches of everything that disliked the comment given, Nash’s voice was still hearable. And was in the zone trying to get himself killed, because one way or another he was going to die that day, but of course Margaret was reclusive of such decision. Nash don’t think or noticed the wall opened wide. That’s tunnel vision effect for ya.
But he did squeak like a chew toy when being snatched off the control panel of the rift and out of the building in one swift pull.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Nash was shoved back by loud through speakers as he was met with a giant exosuit. The voice he recognized.
“Hello, Marge!” Nash said in a happy note. I was still on an ocean of adrenaline and other things he made myself take before entering the mortal kombat back there. Expecting to die, but not in pain. “Wouldn’t you be a dear and leave me to my things? I still need to make sure the gate keeps open, you know?”
“What?! There’s no way I’m leaving you here! Tell me a way to keep it open without a dumb sacrifice off anyone’s part!” Nash looked at the robot's headlights as if they were the eyes of the thing, using a judgmental gaze. “Fast!”
Nash was completely out of it when the things inside the facility came out from the same opening he was ‘rescued’ from. Now with a bigger target they had no issue in barraging the machine with everything they had, assured that Margaret would keep me in a safe place in between herself and the concentrated fire.
“Well, I did place it on hold, so I don’t need to be there anymore. But I do need to keep all the things away from the rift and the ships. So why not?” Nash was babbling as if he wasn’t being held on a giant robot’s hand in between its cracked chest plate and with who knows how many things that wanted a piece of both of them. He could feel Margaret growling through the communicator.
“If the thing is the only way out, we’re getting out through that!” That comment took Nash out of my drunken like stupor, beginning to understand what was going on once more.
“Wait, no! We can’t go cross with this; you have no real force counter to get to through. You need to get on one of the A-class pods, even if just in contact with its surface. So let me go— wow!” His serious talk was cut off by the whole machine making a boost upwards almost shredding his clothes, and skin, by the force. But in the middle of the jump, on the moment we were to fall back down, the center of the chest opened and Nash was left to float on no gravity. But was later presented with was a pair of hands and a mean face dragging Nash into the pit called cabin of the giant robot exosuit.
Margaret was breathing unsteadily after pulling the stunt, holding a prayer as she placed his drunken brother and herself on the grips of her seat’s belts as the cockpit closed with deadly beams so close to the opening it may as well have killed them with the heat. All before reaching the ending of the fall and having the seat damped the resulting force.
“Damn it sis, you’re quick with those hands.”
“Shut it!” Entering the forest Margaret got herself into losing the fools. Nsah was in an ‘ooh’ moment, looking at the inside of the MRCC in full swing and use. Always a maker, not the driver, and even if used, never in combat, so it was a nice new experience. On Margaret’s side it was more in the search of any of the ships nearby to reach and take a nice lift. And then she thought of something.
“Mars! Come in! Where are you?!” Margaret’s called as our pursuers were not letting up; everything on the forest was being vaporized to dust.
“Here Mars! Good to see you are on the gate, Sergeant! But I see too many evolved on you. Get them out of the way!”
“Sure thing there, communicator, I just need to know where you all are to take them out of the way.”
“You have your orders Sergeant.” Static filling the line assuring no more talking would be possible. Margaret tsk-ed at the lost mean of information.
“He’s coming from the east. About three hundred kilometers out. He should be at Mach two now.” Margaret wanted to turn and look at Nash’s face as he spoke, but there was too much to consider as the computers could dodge lasers, but not moledogs appearing from the ground nor winged creatures tackling for the chest armor. “If you head with your boosters at max right now, reach one hundred kilometers east and then go back at your max we should reach him once he’s twenty kilometers from the rift. More or less.”
“Wait, isn’t he coming with--? Ark! Damn it!” Margaret couldn’t even come to finish her sentence as any distraction was an assuring blow of some kind. It was as if everything on a ten mile radius had stopped what they were doing just to make her mission impossible. There were just too many deadly things to dodge.
“You know nothing of what this baby can do. Now if you want to force me to live this through, do it!” Margaret bit her lip as she activated everything manually while dodging everything she could, which wasn’t much. She could feel the whole thing about to fall apart, but it was enough.
‘All boosters are active at one hundred percent regulation capabilities, is this alright?’
“Of course! Move!” And that it did. The belts were straining from the sheer force we were accelerated to. It took four seconds to reach the sound barrier. So estimating the force based on time they achieved eleven G acceleration for one full minute. Not that they could hold up more, not without suffering colossal organ failure. So at the end they were at High-hypersonic speeds and reaching the one hundred kilometer mark in less than a minute. But that time wasn’t all cute and cuddles.
“Holy!” “Shit!” They cursed as garbage, debris and basically everything that had wings tried to stop the journey. The speed luckily was a given barrier to anything directly physical damage, but it also added to the problem of reflexes being cut the short side of the bone. And lasers’ being of the speed of light... yeah it was a real adventure. The exosuit was only at its basic components holding it together.
“How far is that thing?” Margaret stressed, controllers about to go haywire with all the sparks becoming dangerous.
“There’s the Martian!” Mars yelled. The ship was on the whole blurring theme of high velocity when he saw it, being the only other thing out there that could go that fast and didn’t try to kill them and had a conga line of many ships like itself. Margaret did a swimming style break to turn, of course with bigger brakes, bigger movement and bigger resulting g-force. And by the end of it, Nash was unconscious. That happens when you are not trained for any real g-force support.
“God damn it, not now!” Following the Martian was easier said than done, and having her brother’s unconscious person slapping her or bothering her as she drove gave no points on the matter. Luckily the unconsciousness didn’t last long. Just in time as well.
“Look… out!” Nash pushed Margaret’s controls on a hard left dodging a piece of the Martian that was loose for what appeared to be a claw slash on its outer hull. Or it may have been because of the unicorn pegasi on its top shooting at us and at the hull to break it.
Nash still stands to this very day on the former.
“Martian you have bogies on your hull, shake them off!” But there was no reply to Margaret’s call.
“Get closer! We can push them off!”
“WE? I’m doing everything!”
“Then let me get off this chair and watch me do something!”
She didn’t reply as Nash left himself fall from the seat loosening the bets. Once off he was in front of the center of his power. The brain control system of the machine. There were only three bolts separating him from actually helping in this damned fight. And there was no tools.
“Don’t you get tired of following me?!” Nash didn’t understand what she meant at the time, but if he had been with her fighting a trio of obstinate winged horned horses he would be on the same pace.
But Margaret wasn’t on holding grudges; she was on taking pests off the hull. With one more deadly boost which slammed Nash’s face to the back she reached the middle of the Martian’s top hull. And she was greeted accordingly. Three horny horses tried to pierce the outer armor by three means, horn penetration, laser beam, and buck to the back. Only the laser missed.
“Wow, keep it steady!”
“I’m not going to keep steady while fight!” She really didn’t. Fighting three of the things, keeping locked to the hull, and at the same time, still be alive on the entirety of the process was one heck of a good job already. The last attack forced her to the back of the roof and pierce a hole on the left leg, so no longer she would move, with the back almost touching the plasma hot thrusters of the Martian.
The three things were smart. After the first attack one charged its horn while the others charged at the giant humanoid. But Margaret wasn’t going to take that again, allowing the two to get as close as she felt comfortable with, before making a true farmer proud by delivering a haymaker to the first hungry horse begging for it. And in such a fashion that it took the other in its trajectory against the force of the wind, to the front of the ship. But she had not forgotten of the last one.
But what she didn’t like was its aim, it wasn’t pointing at her, nor at the ship. It was aiming at the sky. This turned Margaret’s head and confused her to no end.
But not Nash.
“It’s about to blow everything up! Use your laser turret!”
“Wha—”
“Shoot now!” And Margaret did as asked by reaction. Nash’s help was to reach the control system of the engine and take off the cable that sensed the energy output, making it believe it was not activated as Margaret asked for the contrary with her switch. Automatically forcing the engine to reel even higher to what was moderated as fine. Helping Margaret go forth and hit the thing in its face with an amplified exaggerated version of her laser turret. Giving the thing a serious case of missing head syndrome even through its once powerful shield.
But danger wasn’t over. There were two others, and Nash couldn’t keep the engine active or there would be a serious problem. But luckily for them the answer came in the form of a giant dark portal with white lines showing codes swirling around it. They brushed off the trees of the forest as we moved forth, just as if they were chopsticks. Huh, I remember that from somewhere.
“Marge, once we cross the rift we will be in space so prepare yourself~!”
“WHAT?!”
And with a final boom and a pair of fingers crossed, they passed through.
Nash smiled, he could even say he had a grin. It worked, he was staring at the full moon, emptiness of space and stars. The experiment had transported them into space, safe space. And in no time the rest of the fleet would notice them and attempt rescue. Nash could have jumped in success if I hadn’t seen an error in observation.
Not in space.
It took him a while longer to see I wasn’t even on the sheltered inside of an exosuit either.
Not safe.
Where I actually was is not the place you want to find yourself, ever. The dangerous outside of a seven kilometer height drop above a beautiful forest near a collection of lights on the ground that looked like a village, the remains of an A-class pod all around, and many of the pieces on fire. Nash was not the only one there, but he was the only one not screaming. And on surprised zero gravity eye searching Nash saw one of the unipegasi trying to rectify itself one meter next to him, and as it tried to flap its wings to gain stability, it saw him.
But that was just little tiny Nash. Margaret in the other hand had it worst.
Already rid of one third of a trio pesky squad, she still had to deal with the last two. Which she wasn’t conscious to acknowledge due to her blacking out when the amount of time being in a g-force passed her limit. Lucky for her, she awoke faster than expected.
Unlucky for her, she was way too out of whatever place she had landed.
Through her screen the sight was of white marble, windows of church-glass -- stained glass -- and roof of sky with stars and a moon, she didn't notice the smoke. With consciousness reaching her, but eyes still unfocused, Margaret tried to get herself informed anyway she could, from the rubble covering her screen, to the busted guiding system, to the feeling the need to puke. She shook her head as she could’ve sworn there was blood on her side of the screen.
Margaret knew nothing of what had happened, looking inside her cabin for an old friend, she found none, troubling her thoughts, but placing that on the back of her mind at the moment she checked for the blood on the screen, the next alarming thing as it could be hers. With several blinks her eyes finally returned to focus, and the truth dawned to her. The blood was from the outside.
She was confused, but not ready to stay still she raised herself to reach the controls of the machine, the screen’s outside sensor once covered with rubble became free as the rocks fell off. Making her heart come alive at the sight of a unicorn pegasus in front of her.
White coat, floaty mane, long horn. Just how she hated it.
Groaning at her rude awakening she rose from her spot and rectified her stability, letting wreck pieces of roof fall all around her. Having a clear view to her shaking arms, but that was placed on the back of her mind that would be for later.
“Hey! You bitch!”
The horse, which was very attentive at something in between the rubble beneath it, almost mechanically panned to her direction. Its face was passive, too passive, as if it wasn’t a moment ago trying to tear a new hole on her armor, but eyes still as wide to be equally as creepy. But once its eyes fell upon her, it glowered in the hatred, glowered meaning growled and glowed, Margaret had grown accustomed to the combination of those factors.
“Come and get some!”
The flaming horse did just that, preparing its horn it pawed the ground, calling it’s soon to come charge. Margaret was ready to dodge and pick up a strategy to fight the thing, but her mind wasn’t helping her and she was losing her strength, she recognized the feeling.
‘How long was I asleep?’ But Margaret's thought was not going to be answered anytime soon, the beast charged and she was ready. But as if to simply bug her it stopped at mid gallop and flared its horn.
But it was not aiming at her.
It was aiming at the sky.
Eyes widened Margaret tried to assess the situation. As her knowledge of the place was none, so she forced herself to analyze the semi-busted radar for information, which she found useless as its height informator told her she was at the side of a kilometer high mountain. At the side of its peak, way too far for any church could ever be built upon. She turned to her instincts, checking for anything that called out safety to her. And to her right an open wall of the marble church was her ticket to survival.
Mind and controls set to flee Margaret dived to the open wall.
"Don't worry, you should get it eventually. It's not like I didn't splash the area with my presence, I just... did it without my company. Like a goldfish losing its car keys and... I think it’s time for me to sleep. Sorry if I said too much without you knowing, this is a session to vent after all. Huh, all that was done. All for humanity. Bah!"
"It’s actually funny, you girls know that, don’t you? Us, trapped in here. I mean, it’s funny to me at least. This prison was made for prisoners of war long ago. A war abandoned, and you ponies still use. Ha!"
"Isn’t Tartarus just as you imagined it?"
"But anyway, I don’t know you children, but I’m tired. Hope you both still are in a whole once I awake, because it’s most likely plausible, that everything will be ready."
"Ready for freedom."
“*Static* So, this is my last message. They close in to my position, my partner is dead and I’m left alone to die in this old building. I don’t remember what I was fighting for out here, but I know I was fighting for my family back home. Koriku, if you are hearing this, remember that I love you, and I... and you shouldn’t sing old style music it’s embarrassing... And to Miguel, the little rascal... I love you too, keep away with your sciency stuff, alright? I wish I could see you guys again. I— *Sound of gunshots being fired and pieces of wall hitting floor* well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we boys? Hurrah.*Static*”
Sargento Margaret Stephanie Nash Lockwood. MIA ‘2 - 2 - 2020’ Recovered recording.
