> Uninvited Guests > by 0011010000110010 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Repercussions > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Discord blinked, and looked up from the bunny he was currently teasing by holding a carrot just out of reach. Something was coming. He could feel it faintly, like the very edge of a magnetic field. It felt like chaos. He’d know that feeling anywhere. The sensation intensified, and he sucked in a small breath. It was big and powerful, and growing by the second. And it wasn’t him. He dropped the carrot, moving towards the front door. Pulling it open, he frantically scanned the land, searching for a yellow—there! “Fluttershy!” Discord called out, his normally jovial voice tight with worry. “Don’t go yet, I... I...” He trailed off, not knowing what to do next but grateful that she hadn’t left yet. He ran over to her, keeping one eye peeled for anything dangerous. “What’s gotten into you?” She asked, confusion giving way to a small frown. He stood there, bouncing on his rear legs, glancing around furtively. Without warning, he reached down and pulled her into a hug. He was not as tall as he used to be, from a request Fluttershy herself had asked of him a while back, but he was still a good two times her height. “You’re going to be okay. Don’t freak out, everypony’s going to be fine,” Discord whispered into her ear. “I promise.” Fluttershy’s face was once again covered in confusion, mercifully replacing the growing blush that had threatened to cover her entire complexion. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What do you mean—” She gasped, cutting herself off. An overwhelming sensation of wrongness—much like the first encounter with the being holding her—passed through her like a biting winter wind. Then it was gone, the chill quickly chased away by the warm body she was embraced by. A mechanical roar rang out from the general direction of Ponyville. It howled for several tense seconds before being mercilessly cut off by a metallic crash that Fluttershy could almost feel in her chest, followed by many more smaller crashes and what sounded like collapsing houses. Discord felt her go rigid in his arms and he hugged her all the tighter, wordlessly hoping that she wouldn’t start panicking. Fluttershy mumbled something into his chest. He pretended not to hear. “We have to go help,” she said again. With a great deal of trepidation, Discord released her from his grasp. As she turned around to look at Ponyville, her wings snapped to attention in surprise. Dark black smoke was billowing in the direction of the marketplace. “No,” she breathed, barely audible even to herself. Every part of her body trembled like fall leaves in a breeze, but her mind was set. After a moment’s pause, they both headed off towards the growing black cloud. ∭ As they entered Ponyville proper, Fluttershy couldn’t help noticing how quiet the town was. It had no right being this silent on a warm Tuesday afternoon, especially this close to the marketplace. There were remarkably few ponies out as well, most peering out fearfully from half-closed shutters. The black pillar of smoke they were headed towards had been slowly dissipating, hopefully a good sign, if any. However, there was something on the slight breeze that she could faintly smell every so often. It was rank and offensive, a smell that she had hoped to never smell again. She shivered. Discord, who had lain a paw on her back for support, started to slowly rub her back absentmindedly. The threat of physical danger was over, but psychological harm could be just as debilitating, a fact he was intimately familiar with. There it was again, as weak as it might be: the unmistakable scent of burning flesh. Fluttershy trotted faster towards the marketplace. This was bad. She barely noticed Discord struggle for a second to catch up to her. There was only one thing on her mind and that was making sure that everypony was okay, even if Discord had assured her of that fact earlier. The first thing Fluttershy noticed as she entered the market square was a purple alicorn sitting on the ground in front of some twisted and blackened metallic object. Aside from some furrows in the dirt roads, nothing seemed damaged, against all odds. She called out her friend’s name and was met with no response. So she called out louder. An ear twitched, but nothing more. The wind changed direction, blowing in her face. A wall of burnt flesh hit her nose, her stomach threatening to eject its contents rather violently. Despite the awful stench, Fluttershy started running towards her friend, calling out her name. She skidded to a stop in front of the burnt contraption, out of breath and yet partially unwilling to breath too deeply due to the unavoidable smell. Even if she breathed through her mouth, she could practically taste the odor pervading the air, a slimy film covering her tongue. Tearing her eyes off the blackened wreck, she turned to her friend, speaking her name one more time. There was still no response other than a slight twitch, but this time Fluttershy could see her friend’s face and understood why. It was completely devoid of any emotion, the eyes staring at the wreck and through it at the same time. Fluttershy reached out, then double-guessed herself and withdrew her hoof, only to reach out again and place it on a purple shoulder. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, her friend turned to look at Fluttershy, fixing her with the same gaze she had been giving the broken mass of metal. She almost shied away, but reminded herself that her friend needed a shoulder to lean on. “I couldn’t... I couldn’t save him,” Twilight spoke softly, more to herself than Fluttershy. The pegasus glanced back at Discord, a slight hint of accusation buried under a great big pile of worry. He could only shake his head. Turning back to Twilight, she drew her friend into a warm hug, whispering condolences into an open ear. “No,” Twilight paused, coming ever so slightly back down to reality. “No, you don’t understand. I could have helped him, I could have saved him! It was just a fire, I know advanced fire manipulation spells! And I just stood there and watched him burn!” By now she was almost yelling into Fluttershy’s face, no longer staring off into space. Suddenly aware of what she was doing, Twilight noticed that her friend was cowering back against Discord. Mortified, she apologized profusely. Internally, she kicked herself for reacting in such a manner, adding it to the list of faults she had committed. “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done, Twilight. Some things are unavoidable,” Fluttershy managed to squeak out. “I know, but that’s no excuse. I stood there, Fluttershy! I stood there and watched it happen!” Twilight closed her eyes tightly, trying to contain her tears. Fluttershy wrapped her forelegs around her shuddering friend for the second time. “You know the Everfree forest catches on fire sometimes?” She spoke softly, rubbing Twilight’s back with a hoof. “Sometimes lightning strikes a dead tree, or dry leaves and it all goes up in flames. There’s not much you can do when things like this happen, no matter how prepared you might think you are. There’s always something that goes wrong. I know how it feels, Twilight. It’s not your fault.” Twilight removed herself from the embrace, and turned back to the soot-covered contraption. “I heard him, Fluttershy. He was struggling with a circular thing, and then he started shouting. I don’t know what he was saying, but it sounded like he was asking for help, Fluttershy! And... and I just stood there. By the time I started to act, he had stopped moving, and I knew it was too late.” The tears were flowing unchecked down her face at this point. “It was already too late when he arrived,” Discord spoke up, startling Twilight. “Wha-what do you mean?” Twilight sniffled, wiping her face with a foreleg. “His kind isn’t supposed to be here. Bad things happen when they do show up, and there’s not much that can be done to stop them. They’re utterly soaked in chaos energy. Even a normal pony should have felt it—it’s hard not to feel that kind of massive magical concentration.” “But every sentient being deserves a chance—” “They do, yes. I never said that it was their intention for malicious events to happen. They just... happen.” “So then they just need to be taught how to control their magic, right?” Discord just shook his head. Twilight let out a laugh, only for it to get mixed up with a sob and come out like she had been stabbed with a knife. “Even now, you’re just as big a pain in the rear as you ever were. You never just explain something, do you? What is it that a puny mortal like me can’t know? But I’m not the same mortal you used to toy with, am I? Surely a Princess of Equestria deserves to know... whatever it is that has to do with this incident, right?” Discord turned to Fluttershy, who was currently staring at the wreck, nose scrunched up and breathing through her mouth. He studied her, as if hoping to find an answer. “No,” he whispered finally. “What was that?” Twilight inquired, leaning closer to him. Discord sighed, and turned to look her in the face. “No,” he said again, louder. “There are some things that should not be known. I’m only telling you this because you won’t remember it tomorrow.” Twilight scoffed. “If you think I’m just going to ‘forget’ some being dieing in front of me while I watched him burn, you’re very wrong.” “It’s not your choice.” “What do you mean, not my choice!” By this point, Fluttershy had managed to tear her eyes away from the corpse to watch the verbal sparring between her two friends. “Do you know why there are round doorhandles on doors when they are more difficult for earth ponies and pegasi to open?” Discord spoke softly. Nevertheless, the words rang through the air with some hidden weight behind them. Fluttershy shuddered. “Of course, the first doors were made by unicorns before the formation of Equestria and the round handles were used as decor—” Twilight managed to get out before Discord interrupted her. “Wrong. The three ‘races’ of ponykind were never separated nor did they ever fight each other.” “But the story of Hearth’s Warming Eve—!” “Is true. But they weren’t ponies. They were nations.” “But—” “Glorious nations, full of hope and bright ideas. Only, they decided they didn’t like working with each other all that much. They fought, sometimes for years at a time. Eventually it became too much, and they crumbled under their own weight. The entire planet burned that last day. As one last gift, the nations each passed down their sentience to a race of their choosing. Zebras, Griffons, Dragons, and Ponies. Eventually, that intelligence trickled down into the rest of the animals.” “Are you even listening to yourself right now? If this is some kind of joke, you can stop right here Discord.” “You're the one that wanted to know what's happening here. Not that it really matters if you believe me or not, you won’t remember this conversation.” Twilight just sat there, frozen in thought. “H-has this happened before, Discord?” Fluttershy spoke up, surprising herself. Discord nodded. “Have we had this talk before?” Fluttershy said, a little bit louder. He nodded again, weakly. “H-how many times?” Fluttershy stuttered, her sudden bout of courage fleeing. Discord looked away. “Eleven.” All that could be heard was the creaking of cooling metal. He chanced a glance, and found Fluttershy nearly in tears, while Twilight was glancing back and forth between them, her expression unreadable. “So you’ve been cleaning up these... incidents, then? And this can’t have started recently, there are myths of similar beings to this one. There’s actually a pony in this town that staunchly believes in these creatures,” Twilight said. “Who are you? The Discord we met for the first time would have never helped ponies in this fashion. And what about when you were encased in stone? You couldn’t have done anything to hide these events as a statue.” Discord smirked. “Don’t make me laugh. I was never imprisoned. I got bored, and chose to portray myself as captured. What good is it if all a pony knows is chaos? You can’t miss what you never had, or so the saying goes.” “Is that why you ‘lost’ to us, then? Because you felt like it?” “Because I felt like it? Because I felt like it? Oh Twilight, you wound me. No, my dear little alicorn, it was a test.” “A test,” Twilight deadpanned. “One that you passed with flying colors, I might add. Or shooting colors.” Twilight went silent for a moment before responding. “How can you be so cheerful right now? It’s like you don’t even care that he’s dead.” “It’s not like I can change anything,” Discord said reproachfully. “You could at least be somewhat respectful!” “Twilight, please,” Fluttershy interjected. “Arguing isn’t going to help.” “Flutters is right, Twilight. As much as I would love to stand here and argue with you, we’ve talked enough.” “Oh, so now you’re just going to snap your fingers and make this all go away, like the last eleven times?” Twilight said, furious. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’ve heard it all, Twilight. Nothing you say will sway me. Maybe in the future, when you’ve grown a little more world-weary, but today? No,” Discord finished with an air of finality, discouraging any more discussion. He raised his claw, thumb and finger intertwined, prepared to snap. “Discord,” Fluttershy spoke, reaching out a hoof to hold his paw. She opened her mouth to continue, but couldn’t find the words. It had the intended effect anyway, and Discord paused. He looked down at her, claw raised awkwardly. In that moment, she found her words. “We’re your friends, Discord. Can’t you trust us?” He sighed, and lowered his arm. “I do. But I won’t, Fluttershy. I won’t have you continuously worried about the next poor bastard to get dumped here, if you’ll pardon my French.” “Who are you?” Twilight repeated. “Why?” She amended quickly. “Why would you go to such lengths to keep this under the rug? And for so long? None of this makes any sense!” “Maybe next time,” Discord said, raising his claw. “Don’t think that this is over, Dis—” ∭ The sunlight endlessly poked at Twilight’s eyelids, demanding to be let in. The pony grunted, and rolled over. Blearily opening her eyes, she glanced over at her clock. It was too early to be awake. She snuggled back into the blankets, trying to fall back into the sweet embrace of sleep. Eventually, the smell of breakfast invaded her conscience, and she reluctantly removed herself from bed. Cautiously navigating the stairs, Twilight soon found herself seated at the kitchen table, with a heaping mound of pancakes in front of her. They looked delicious, but when it came time to actually consume said pancakes, it was rough going. Not that they weren’t delicious, but that she had no appetite. Spike asked her if there was anything wrong and she shrugged him off, telling him not to worry. Frankly, she herself had no idea. Perhaps some organization of the library’s books would help. Oh wait, she told herself, Rainbow Dash said she wanted to fly today. Together. A knock on the door, and Spike scurried off to attend to the guest. It was Dash. A couple of jokes about crashing later, and Twilight found herself outside, in a field close to Ponyville. A soft breeze caressed her wings, sending all kinds of new sensations fluttering through her mind. Moments later they were in the sky, the land spread out below them. The town below milled about, ponies going and coming. It was all so wonderfully complex, compounded by the fresh perspective. Yet it didn’t excite her as she thought it would and even Dash was a bit put off by Twilight’s silence. It didn’t stop Twilight from being dragged into as many races and stunt flying as Dash could think of. After lunch, they lazed about on a cloud, staring off into the sky. Twilight commented on how clouds would be excellent for stargazing, and Dash responded with her usual taunt of “egghead.” Everything was as it should be, but she couldn’t help but feel differently. The cloud was too soft, the sky too blue. It was all a bit too real, too perfect. She bid farewell to her friend some time later, heading back home deep in thought about nothing in particular. So occupied in fact, she walked into her front door. Rubbing her snout, she stared at the door. The doorknob, glinting in the sun, caught her eye. She always thought it was a silly decoration, but tradition was tradition, and she had left it in place. A ghost of a memory brushed the corner of her mind, but evaded capture. That doorknob was important, but why? She shrugged, and went through into her home, closing the door behind her. There were more pressing matters to attend to, namely the uncategorized books lining the floor. Greeting Spike, who was in the middle of reshelving the books, she began to help him. After a quick dinner, Twilight sat out on the balcony, head propped up on the railing. The sun setting was as beautiful as always, the last moments of its light setting the clouds aglow in fire oranges and blood reds. Eventually, the great ball of fire sunk below the horizon, and the sky teetered on the edge of night and day. By the time the moon was high in the sky and the stars gleaming brightly, she headed to bed. She dreamed she attended Fluttershy’s funeral. Discord gave a speech, most of it nonsense. Afterward, he cried into Twilight’s shoulder. She slept in the next day. ∭ Discord grumbled, and rolled out of bed. Stretching a bit, he yawned and headed downstairs, eyes mostly closed. Shuffling and stooped over; he arrived at the table. Sitting down, he reached an arm out and grabbed a cup of coffee that Fluttershy placed in his path. Muttering thanks, he sat there, paw and claw both wrapped around the warm cup. With a trembling grasp, he raised the cup to his lips and took a tentative sip. And another. All too soon the wonderful liquid was gone. Eying the bottom of the cup and seeing only dregs, he returned it to the table. Lying his head down, he attempted to go back to sleep. Fluttershy interrupted him before he could actually nod off. “You look so tired, Discord. Are you getting enough sleep?” “I am old, Fluttershy. Very, very old. I want to stop but I can’t.” He would get like this sometimes, tired of life itself, and all that Fluttershy could do was be there for him to lean on. It hurt her to see him when he fell into these depressions, but she never told any of her friends. “I’ll always be here for you, Discord.” He chuckled weakly, it sounding more like wheezes than chuckles. He smiled sadly, it not quite reaching his eyes. “Of course.”