> Not All Scars Are Seen > by Shadow_Wolf > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Chapter 1: Darkness > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not All Scars are Seen Chapter 1 Theme: Live to Tell - Madonna Beneath the watchful gaze of Luna's Moon, shades of blue and violet were lovingly caressed by the strings of silver which lit them, forming songs within the garden of shadows which lulled the world to rest. A time of peace and serenity unequaled, given to Equestria in time immemorial, it was true that the Night lacked the overt brilliance of the Day; but what it lacked in opulence, it flaunted in mute splendor with a beauty all its own. While never unappreciated, too often, the Night was remembered not for its spender, but for its close proximity to Darkness. Darkness accompanied the Night to be certain, but Darkness - True Darkness - existed solely as the antithesis of all that was good and right in the world; the great predator that sought only to return all that had been made to nothingness. In this, all creatures great and small seemed to possess and insinctive fear of Darkness and the dangers that dwelt within it; a fear that so often was placed incorrectly upon the Night. But though they were seen as one and the same, Night and Darkness were similar in on the most superficial ways. To combat such fears, the living tell stories of great heroes and legendary magics -- apocryphal tales to remind them that fear could be overcome and that darkness could be defeated. But Darkness is always the cleverest of foes, and such tales all to often forget that will exist no matter how bright the Day nor how dark the Night. Ever-seeking the infinitesimal slivers of doubt and worry, sheered from the two-edged blade of free well, Darkness may have fled before the courage of heroes, but would always return to attack even the bravest of souls where they could not fight back; turning their own demons into its most potent weapons. It was for this reason, that only the most maddened, the most foolish and the most innocent ever truly slept peacefully; and while the return of Princess Luna had limited its machinations, the Steward of Dreams could not be everyone, and the knives of Darkness were as insidious and subtle as they were sharp. In her fondest dreams, the world was little more shimmering leaves of gossamer which blew across a picturesque field; her fillies frolicking and playing across it, her hoof held in that of her stallion, her head nestled against the warmth of his shoulder as they watched. In other dreams, she once again felt the comfortable weight of golden armor across her back as she moved with the familiar cadence of those who were her brothers and sisters in every way but blood. In the rarest of the rare, she was a filly once more, unconcerned with where she came from or where she was going save to find the next thermal to carry her higher into the ocean of winds through which she soared. In her dreams, she was whole once again, new and unbroken, her pains nothing but distant memories. Such moments were like a treasure crafted by the Goddess of Night herself, crafted in details that no artist could replicate; strong enough to restore the missing pieces of her soul and mind, yet so delicate that the slightest breath would shatter them. Perhaps, in her introspective moments, she would think that this fragility made her cherish such things all the more deeply, even as their siren song of serenity called her to remain within them forever. Though her life was filled with both love and friendship, in her weakest moments, she longed to answer the call of such songs; to leave behind the familiarity of pain and loss to be born anew, and yet always the knowledge of what she risked abandoning kept her from listening to their call. It was this knowledge that her consciousness could never escape even as her subconscious longed for the release, and it was here that her demons found their perch-- the paradoxical duality dragging her mind into the void between the sanctuaries of dream and waking where she could no longer protect herself. It was in such a moment of weakness that the void's maw swallowed her as the knife of Darkness slid home. Her vision failed her first as the sting of sweet mixed with the acrid scents of wood smoke and charred flesh. Next came the sensation of pain rolling down her shoulders as weight - both familiar and alien - pressed into her saddle pad and pinned her wings beneath it. Beneath her, mud caked against her hooves and fetlocks as she trudged forward, muscles straining for every agonizing inch of progress. Above her the cries of airborne skirmishers echoed all around as they dove and weaved through the fire of artillery magics. Around her, the sound of steel against steel mingled with the cries for help from the wounded and silence of those already dead. "... stop... stop it..." The field, once picturesque and pristine now lay scared and blackened by flame and blade, the grass swaying above rivers of blood. The sky, once blue and pure now darkened to the color of burning pitch, the sun little more than a baleful eye staring downward. Her girls?! Where were her girls?! "They… no... stop... they hadn't..." Her right hind leg failed her, her right foreleg following soon after, bones cracking and the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth as she found herself pinned beneath the weight she carried. Fighting against the awkward position, she could barely make out the battle line only a scant few hundred yards away; and though she had flown from one side of Equestria to the other, never had such a short distance seemed so far away. "...make it stop..." Momentarily blinded a second time, but with effort born from sheer desperation, the weight atop her vanished, every fiber of her being screaming as her muscles tore like velcro from the herculean as her breath hitched in her throat and vision once again returned to her good eye. Wings spreading, charred feathers barely responding, she somehow found the strength to launch herself upwards, her equilibrium barely holding as she sought escape. "...please stop..." Survival and the completion of her mission should have been the only things on her mind in that moment, but she still broke every rule she had ever lived by to look over her shoulder one last time to look at the unmoving weight she had left behind. She would never have tolerated such a mistake from her cadets, and was rewarded for her transgression with the sensation of liquid fire pouring down her spine; her internal gyroscope shattering as her wings snapped shut reflexively from the agony. Far below, the battlefield stared up at her malevolently, the world turning sideways as the indescribable feeling of uncontrolled free fall carried her downward into oblivion. The jolt of impact flared her wings to full extension, the sudden movement throwing her body upwards into a tangle of loose sheets, the room spinning wildly as she clamped her eyes shut. Phantom pains wracked her feathers, the right side of her body all but paralyzed as muscled locked into excruciating rigidity. The sour taste of bile rose in her throat, threatening to choke her even as it raced the scream which tried to tear free of her muzzle. But before any sound could escape, her left foreleg found her mouth, her teeth sinking into its flesh in refusal to give her demons the satisfaction of a scream that would frighten her loved ones. Such nightmares where nothing if not familiar and it was not uncommon for them to jolt her from her sleep, though it had been a long time since one had made her want to scream upon waking. For a time, she had actually thought herself rid of them. But while the warmth of the summer and familiar setting of friendly faces had eased the worst of her pains and buried the shattered memories of her former lifetime, so too had such things caused her to lower her defenses; if only minimally. The respite left her honestly happy and kept her from feeling the fear she constantly fought against, but that happiness had left her vulnerable in other ways. Logically, she wanted to berate herself for believing in some wicked force that targeted her specifically out of all the mares in Equestria, but it was difficult not to think as such after such a violent awakening. "It's isn't real anymore," she whispered. Squeezing both her empty and good eyes tightly closed, she took in slow, ragged breaths and released them with equal timidity, her teeth eventually loosening their grip on her foreleg, the limb pulling tight around her barrel as she shivered with feverish cold. Ears pinning backwards, she willed herself not to cry from the pain as she concentrated. It was true she couldn't fight or escape her nightmares, but she could out think and outlast them. "It isn't real anymore," she said, forcing herself to speak more firmly. Eyes closed, the worst of the vertigo was easier to ignore and the words helped her focus; memories of her girls, her stallion and the foals she had helped over the years coming to her mind as she did. In these things were a sense of duty so ingrained within her psyche that they were as much a part of her as her cutie mark; an anchor of reality in her storms of chaos. In them, the iron discipline so carefully cultivated in her youth returned to her, bolstering old confidence and banishing doubt. "It. Is. Not. Real. Anymore!" Little by little, she felt the tension in her wings and body loosening. Soon, the pounding of her heart settled as she felt her wings tuck into place, the grip of her foreleg relaxing. Finally, the simple act of regular breathing allowed her to roll onto her back as the conflicting sensations receded to tolerable levels, her eye easing open as her head rolled to the side. According to her alarm clock, she had managed a full five hours of sleep and she sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Princesses for that small miracle. Despite this, her body begged for just a few more minutes of rest, but her mind knew that no matter how generous the Princesses may have been, temping fate was always a poor decision. Moreover, her girls would be waking soon and she refused to let her see them as she was at that moment. Rolling over and planting her hooves upon the thickly carpeted floor, she made for her dresser to locate the small wooden box that contained her crystal eye, years of practice slipping it into place easily. Unfortunately, the eye had never fit properly and she immediately felt it starting to roll off-center into its usual position; something which gave her a unique and often commented on appearance. Worse still, the poor sizing always caused a dull, throbbing ache within her eye socket for as long as she wore the prosthetic. Those who knew her eye was false would sometimes ask why she didn't commission a properly fitting eye, or better still a magical one that would at least partially restore her sight and depth perceptions. She rarely acknowledged such suggestions though, for despite its shortcomings, she cherished the eye because of who made it. Love always found a way of dealing with minor inconveniences, after all. Flexing her wings as she took another deep breath, she craned her neck to begin preening, but stopped short at the odor which greeted her, the scent all but demanding a morning shower. First though, she trotted from her room and made from the doors behind which her fillies slept peacefully in their - at least marginal - ignorance of the evils of the world. Starting at her eldest's, she placed her ear to the simple wooden barrier and listened. Inside, she could already hear Sparkler beginning to stir, soft grumbles directed at her alarm clock reaching her sharp ears. She would not, of course, intrude upon the teenager's privacy without a reason and spoke through the door instead. “Sweetie, I’ll be done with my shower in a few minutes, you can have it when I’m done,” she said. An incoherent, but largely affirmative sound answered her words. Tiphooving across the hall, she opened the well-oiled door of her youngest's room to peek inside, smiling at the scene before her. Atop the small bed, a faux tent of pillows and blankets had been erected to conceal the room’s occupant, soft snoring heard from within the trappings. However, if the last weeks were any indication, her little muffin already had something planned for the day and she would need to be ready for it. Closing the door as quietly, she moved silently to the bathroom and began her morning routine. As she let the water cleanse and relax her, her thoughts turned to her girls as they often did following a nightmare; wondering what they would say if she could find the courage to confide in them the way they confided in her. But as always, such thoughts were quickly pushed aside as she cursed herself for evening considering them. Deep down, she knew that they would understand - and could possibly even help in some ways - but she always felt she had no right to burden them with her troubles. Her girls were her life, and while she could not protect them forever, she would do so for as long as possible. Turning off the water and shaking the excess from her body, she stepped from the shower to face the mirror, her familiar, cross-eyed expression staring back at her as she finished drying off. "It isn't real anymore," she told herself, just as she did every morning without fail. On her worst days, the simple mantra rebuilt her mental defenses and refocused her thoughts, letting her force herself to smile in the face of the coming day. Sometimes, on her best days, she actually let herself believe it. > Interlude: Dinky Hooves and the Temple of the Golden Tassel > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not All Scars are Seen Interlude Theme: Pure Imagination - Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory If she really thought about it, there was no such thing as silence in the wilderness; the rustle of the leaves, the skittering of insects, even the occasional footfall of some great predator. It all added up to a strange symphony which could lull the brave and frighten the cowardly in the same breath. The rain was something new, however, for as humid as it had been for her trek, not a single drop of rain had fallen before now and it was the sound of the sudden shower which woke her from her sleep. It was always so easy to lose track of time when cutting your way through the dense jungles beyond the Everfree, days blended together for those who weren't used to such things. But she was no ordinary explorer. Oh no, she was the Great Adventuress Dinky Hooves; and she knew exactly how long she had been on her quest. She had searched for her quotation... qualification... quackery... her target (1) for longer than the great emerald famine of the Diamond Dogs, but thankfully not as long as the feather plague of the Fourth Griffon Dynasty, meaning that her forty days and forty nights of endless searching fell neatly between the two historic events. Everyone, her colleges... cartographers... cauliflowers... her friends (2), even her own sister had said she would never find what she was looking for, that it had been lost on purpose and would never again see the light of day; and yet she had proved them wrong. All of them! After forty days and forty nights of searching, her goal had finally been reached when she had finally discovered the Great Temple of the Golden Tassel! Yes very soon, her genius, bravery and stick-to-it nature was going to immortalize her in the animations... anchors… amphibians… in the great big halls(3) of history up at the university! Of course, if she hadn't been completely exhausted the previous day, it would have only been thirty-nine nights, but who was really counting? Technically she was, and the stupid exhaustion had kept her from outdoing her greatest icon and most bitter rival by one whole night! Just. One. Night! But again, what was one more day – or night – in the face of what was going to be overwhelming glory anyway? Nothing! That's what it was, absolutely nothing! And it had absolutely nothing to do with the legends of the great guardian beast that consumed the souls of the ones who dared to trespass in its home. Yeah, it had nothing to do with those legends at all! So she had waited for the warmth of Celestia's Sun to peak through the cracks of the temple's pillars and walls, its light waking her as the sound of the shower faded to reveal sun-flies dancing across the rays that slipped into her tent. Of course, sun-flies were harmless and her invincible magics kept the worst of the predators away while her ingenious camping gear hid her perfectly from those too foolish to be frightened away. As the sounds faded back to normal, she knew it was finally time to make the impossible happen. "Time to get started!" She whispered to herself Rolling from her alcove, her small hooves sank into the thick moss which covered the flagstones as she focused her magic once more; this time drawing in the energy she had used to set up her protection spells in favor of a new one. Her sister had taught her this at her insistence and when she found that moving around her campsite didn't produce the slightest noise, she knew she had been an adapt student once more. But she couldn't go into an adventure without getting geared up first, so she quickly donned her black armored trench coat and red helmet. "Hey!" she said to no one in particular, "pith helmets and khaki vests are expensive and I'm not rich and famous yet!" Now satisfied with her attire, she turned to face her first obstacle of the day; the nearly mile high, multicultural... monotheistic... maximized... the really really big rock (4) that barred her way with its at least zillion tons of weight. Moving it should have been impossible, she reckoned and thought that even the Element of Magic herself might have had trouble with it. But while she wasn't the Element of Magic, she had studied the rock before finally giving into exhaustion and she knew its secrets like the back of her hoof. Yes, even though it should have been impossible, halfway up its surface, a cleverly hidden bronze lever was the key to its defeat; the same lever she now wrapped in her flaxen gold aura of magic and began to pull. Of course, had it not been for the powerful spell she'd cast earlier, the sound of the rock's bindings being shattered would have been heard all the way in Canterlot, but like the genius she was, the spell extended outwards to cover the rock itself as she worked. Sucking in her cheeks and taking a deep breath, sweat already trickling down her mane, she forced the rock to move inch by inch until it reveal a space just big enough for her to slip through. "Hah! Take that you dumb do... er rock!" She whispered. Once through the opening, she looked into the darkened hallway before her, images of traps both magical and munched... minced... mulled... normal (5) dancing across her imagination as she left Celestia's Sun behind. Fortunately, she had studied what to do in such situations and slunk down quickly onto her tummy, using her forelegs to pull herself down the thick carpet of moss as the traps activated overhead. Arrows, blades, flamethrowers and things she couldn't even identify were up there, but there were advantages to being as... er... small... as she was. Finally, she reached the end of the hallway and stood up, brushing of her jacket and adjusting her helmet before staring down into the Great Steps of Tartarus. Each of the steps was a hundred yards long and another hundred yards deep, going down into who knew what horrors lay below. So many legends had been told of them that she couldn't help but pause and gulp, a silent prayer going to the Princesses that she wouldn't be the next one to purchase... prance... pelt... to get killed (6) on them as she started her decent; her horn lighting up ever few seconds as she used her magic to keep herself from falling. It was times like this she really envied Pegasus ponies. She lost count of the steps after the thousandth one, and with more effort than she wanted to admit, she reached the bottom to find herself in another hallway. But unlike the first one which had been filled with traps, this one was filled with millions of carvings whose cold, soulless gazes bored into her as she gazed back. Part of her wanted to run at that moment, because if the legends were true, these carvings had once been ponies, their bodies turned to stone when the great guardian had devoured their souls. "Is it worth it to go on?" She asked herself, only to answer, "Duh! Of course it is! Fortune and Glory and all that fun stuff!" Nodding sternly, she tiphooved forward and out of sight of the long dead gazes, her body pressed firmly to the wall as she pulled herself along the floor as she had above, the sounds of soft music reaching her ears in an almost lullaby-like manner. She knew then that she was closer than she had ever dared to hope, but she wasn't going to let herself get caught in a trap now. Leaning forward as far as she dared, she angled her neck around the corner and scanned the room, readjusting her helmet when it momentarily blocked her sight. The room which greeted her could easily have held a million ponies and was beautiful in a way she could barely describe. "You ancient guys sure now how to impress an adventuress,"she whispered. Laid out around a massive avocado... abacus... abalone... a great big hole (7) in the ground, everything about the room seemed to glow, from its silver columns and silk-wood beams to its tiles of white marble and black onyx and platforms of precious stones at every conceivable height. Worth at least a gazillion bits in just construction materials alone, the decor was beautiful and awe inspiring, but it wasn't what drew her eyes. There, just on the other side of the hole, hanging from the statue of some ancient and magnificent heroine, she spied her goal; The Legendary Golden Tassel of the Seven Crystals! If the legends were true, it had been given to the three tribes by the first Council of Alicorns back in antacid... aquarium... antipasto... back a long time ago (8) and contained more power than could be described. Even the famed explorer Daring Doo - Dinky's personal rival, of course - had tried and failed to retrieve the artifact, claiming it to be lost forever. Yet here it was, swaying in some unknown breeze as if saying "Come and get me, Dinky, I'm right here" And that was exactly what she was going to do! Scanning for any signs of the Great Guardian Beast, she determined it wasn't in the room, but didn't want to take chances and hugged the wall as she scurried for one of the platforms, her hoof-falls making no noise at all thanks to her unstoppable magic. Then, at the last moment, she was sure she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and fast as lightning, she dove behind one of the tree-trunk thick columns beneath that platform and pressed her back against it. Biting her lip to keep from panicking, ears flicking, she thought about trying to cast a teleport or invisibility spell; but the Tassel was right there and she might need that energy to make her daring escape! Scrunching up her courage, she slowly turned to peer around the pillar, all the while working up her bravery for the final run. It had to be a trick of the light or something, yeah, that was it, a trick of the light; the Guardian was just a legend after all. And yet, as she turned to look, she felt her nose bump into something warm, soft and slightly damp which caused her eyes to open wide in panic. It was the Guardian! It was real! She had come face to face with the golden eyes of the Great Temple Guardian Beast and the gaze made her breath catch in her throat as it bore into her. She longed to look away, to scream or run but it was too late. Already she could feel the gaze working its way into her very soul as the Guardian spoke its terrible words which would turn her into one of the lost stone statues. “Gobbled you up again, muffin.” > Chapter 2: Home > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not all Scars are Seen Chapter 2 Theme: Remember me this way - Jordan Hill Like so many things, the definition of a home was a strange and nebulous concept; one largely dependent upon the upbringing of the pony in question. In many places, especially the larger cities of Equestria, a pony's home was less a place of residence and more a statement of wealth, a way to flaunt their bits and prestige to impress their peers. In other places, it was less a statement of wealth and more a simply matter of survival, a place to get in out of the rain and a place to hide at night. Still others argued that it was family, not bits or shelter that truly made a home. Those who argued as such were often looked down upon as unambitious or hypocritical, while those who argued against it were seen as shallow and cold. Regardless of which side the opinion fell, all too often the appearance of a pony would lead to immediate assumptions of their home and vice versa. Those who did not know Derpy, for example, often assumed that because of her drab coloration, clumsiness, her seemingly mundane profession and the fact she did not live with other pegasai in Cloudsdale, that she either lived in squalor or just barely kept herself out of it. These ponies were wrong, of course, for while her home lacked the stylish majesty of the Carousel Boutique or the unique architecture of the Books and Branches Library, it nevertheless held a comfortable, rustic charm. Simple and welcoming, it's two-story construction consisted of cream-colored stucco and dark chocolate roofing and framing, surrounded by a simple picket fence of cream colored timber. Set along the northern edge of Ponyville, it was all but indistinguishable from its neighbors save for the lush and extensive garden which filled its back yard. What had started as a hobby to pass the time had become an integral part of her life, and in their own morbid way, her restless nights were a blessing when it came to her garden. Growing it had been a challenge at first, given her lack of aptitude, but her neighbors had stepped in to help, teaching her what she had done wrong initially and allowing her to ultimately excel in the endeavor. Now acting as her own slice of heaven, it contained all manner of fruits, vegetables and nuts and hardly a day went by that she did not tend it or peruse it for its bounty. That morning was no exception, and after a few minutes of searching, she felt satisfied with her basket’s contents for the day and trotted back inside. Like the exterior, the interior of the house remained simple and welcoming, with light beige walls accented by darker trim and carpeting to give it a feeling of perpetual warmth; something she had always wanted growing up. Neatly furnished with comfortable cushions and carefully arranged tables gave it a sense of order, while misplaced toys, books, keepsakes and innumerable family photos gave it a lived in quality that made the simple dwelling into a home; and in every way that counted, the house itself was as much a part of her family as the ponies dwelling within it. That said, while nopony visiting would ever claim that she was wealthy, yet every time she stepped across the threshold into the familiar surroundings, she could not help but feel rich. Tail swaying lightly, she hummed an old marching cadence as she reached the kitchen and tried her best to ignore the dull ache already beginning to stretch from her eye down the back of her neck, her wing twitching irritably from the sensation. Repeating her mantra from earlier, however, let her focus on the task at hoof. Soon, with the efficiency of a master baker, rote movements intertwined with the variances of her daily harvest as she sat about preparing the basket's contents. Sliding the muffin pan into the oven a short time later, she felt a sense of pride that she had only stumbled four times. Piquing her ears slightly and closed her eyes, letting her other senses reach out to gauge the readiness of the rest of her family as their breakfast baked. Having sensitivity to the subtle but complex changes of air pressure as her special talent was an advantage all her own and allowed her to "feel" out the nuances of movement around her; the bubbles on her flank representing the way she could work with them in ways that few could predict. Experience and knowing the sound of every crick and creak of her home didn't hurt either. These, coupled with the uncanny and seemingly precognitive "mommy sense," which came from bearing a foal, this allowed her to know where her girls were at any given time and always gave her an advantage when dealing with their antics. Sparkler, she determined, was in her room getting ready and Dinky had just rolled out of bed by the sound of things; but a heartbeat later, she felt a sudden change in pressure followed by the sound of those tiny hoofsteps going completely silent; and thus signalling that the day's antics were about to begin. As a pegasus, Derpy knew about magic only in the most academic of terms; it simply wasn't something she dealt with except in passing and this made being the mother of two unicorns interesting to say the least. Fortunately, though this had proven to be a problem for several years, the town librarian, Twilight Sparkle, had been only too happy to provide tutoring for her girls once Derpy had finally asked her about it. Though initially Derpy had insisted on paying, the friendly and studious unicorn taught for the sake of teaching and refused any form of payment; something that both impressed and infuriated the proud and thrifty pegasus, who had eventually talked her into accepting a dozen muffins a week in lieu of bits. Part of the tutoring, however, had included reading; specifically a lot of highly advanced reading, and while Sparkler found it easy enough, Dinky had always been a weak reader due to a mild dyslexia. In an effort to overcome this, Twilight had introduced Dinky to the Daring Doo series as a means of helping her improve her skills, and to say that her little muffin had fallen in love with the books was an understatement. As such Derpy quickly found herself with not only a budding magician, but an aspiring adventuress on her hooves as well. This spirit of adventure and need to practice had eventually led into daily adventures as Dinky felt the need to attempt some new method of surprising her mother each morning, and though her attempts were thus far unsuccessful, her techniques were steadily improving in both cleverness and sneakiness. It made her proud as much as it made her smile. Going about the kitchen as if nothing were out of the ordinary, she continued to hum the familiar tune as she finished breakfast and began to pack the girl's respective lunches along with her own. Whatever Dinky had done, none of the usual creaks from the floorboards were accompanying her movements, but the air displacement told her she was near the kitchen door. Magic truly was making things interesting, and as a nod to her daughter's stick-to-itiveness - and in the spirit of sportsmareship - she turned slightly so that her prosthetic eye faced the doorway as she worked. It might have given Dinky an advantage if the little unicorn had remembered to quit narrating her adventures aloud. Feeling and hearing her just a few paces behind, Derpy turned quickly, the room spinning slightly and causing her wings to flare reflexively for balance. Out of her good eye, she caught an after image of movement and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snickering as her eye refocused. Beneath the table, dressed in the firefighter outfit she had worn for Nightmare Night, she spied Dinky attempting to disappear behind one of the table legs. Unfortunately for the filly, while a certain "Doctor" Time Turner had somehow managed to condense an six story house into a sixteen square foot blue box, hiding an eight inch wide barrel behind a two inch wide table leg remained an impossibility of spacial conservation. So it came to pass that, once again, that her fearless adventuress' escapade ended with a soft yelp followed by squeals of laughter from the raspberries blown across her tummy until she finally surrendered. Several minutes later, the ancient temple turned graveyard turned kitchen became not the sight of slaughter for the young adventuress, but rather the serene, if tense, gathering known throughout the land as breakfast; the scent of freshly backed muffins and hot coffee filling the room as the two occupants stared each other other down. Derpy, a self-satisfied smile upon her muzzle, nibbled at her breakfast and sipped at her drink in silence. Across from her, Dinky sat with her forelegs crossed and cheeks puffed out in an indignant attempt to look angry as she did her best to ignore the honey-drenched, raspberry baked good a few inches away from her. To an outsider, the scene may have been seen as a tense situation, one that would erupt into harsh words and cruel shouts at any second; and in any other home in Equestria they might have been right. But the Hooves home was governed by a series of complex laws of social dynamism, all of which varied upon which occupant was asked about them. Naturally, under the governance of such laws, it came as no surprise that the first words out of Sparklers mouth as she trotted into the kitchen were used to rub metaphorical salt into her little sister's wounded ego. "Gobbled up again, eh Dinks?" she asked, snickering as she plucked a blueberry muffin for herself and took her seat between the other two. "Hmph," was her only response. "What was the adventure today?" Sparkler asked, addressing her mom, her breakfast held in her light teal aura as she nibbled at it. "Something about a temple and a golden tassel of some kind," Derpy replied. "It's not fair!" Dinky exclaimed, looking back at the two of them. "I was really careful this time! I even casted your muffining spell like you taught me and everything!" "I think you mean you 'cast' my 'muffling' spell, Dinks," Sparkler corrected her. "Yeah that," she replied. "It's not my fault if you didn't do it right, kiddo," she stated as she took a sip of juice, completely missing Derpy's raised eyebrow at the previous statement. "But I did do it right!" Dinky stated flatly. "Well, regardless of who did what, right or otherwise" Derpy said, silencing further argument, "it's getting a bit late, muffin. You need to finish up your breakfast and go get your things ready for school." Dinky shot her mother a glance halfway between dejected and adorable as she took hold of the muffin in her flaxen aura and began to nibble at it, her light golden eyes turning towards the ceiling as she did so, a tick of curiosity causing the corner of her mouth to turn upwards slightly in a grin. She said nothing of course, but the older mares in the room exchanged a knowing look that said they both knew she was plotting her next attempt. A moment later, she excused herself and left the room quietly. As soon as she was out of earshot, Sparkler turned back to her mom and narrowed her eyes. "Okay, mom, spill!" she said. "I need to know how you do it! It's more than just your so-called 'mommy sense,' that's forty straight tries and forty straight catches! I need to know what you're doing cause she's always getting the drop on me when I watch her." Bringing the mug to her lips, Derpy took a long sip of the thick, strong beverage, her eyes closing as she felt it slide down her throat and warm her insides. The slight distraction of her daughter's little adventure had given her a momentary reprieve from the spreading aches, but she could already feel them returning with a vengeance that threatened to throw off her balance more than usual. Despite her best efforts, she felt her earlier smile slipping away momentarily. "Mom?" "Yes, Sweetie?" Derpy asked, shaking her head quickly to clear the vision as she smiled once more. "You okay? You kinda zoned out there for a minute." "I..." she started, pausing to contemplate her words. Unlike Dinky, no blood existed between the elder pegasus and the magenta coated unicorn across from her; but just as bits did not make a home, blood did not necessarily make a family. Sparkler had originally been Dinky's foalsitter when Derpy had returned to work, but eventually she had grown to love her just as if she had foaled her herself and had eventually taken her in, offering her the home she might never have otherwise known. For a moment, she realized just how knowledgeable her second daughter had grown and in that instant longed to tell her everything-- until the dream for the previous night tugged at her subconscious. Like all families, she, Dinky and Sparkler did not always see eye to eye on things, but she loved them both equally and the idea of anything happening to either of them or shaking their trust or faith in her was simply too much to bear. "I... I'm fine, sweetie," she said at length, once again bottling her thoughts deep within her psyche. "I just didn't sleep well last night, sorry, what did you ask me?" Sparkler looked less than convinced, but shrugged it off after a moment. "I asked if you'd tell me how you always catch Dinks so I can keep her from getting the drop on me all the time." "Well that depends, Sweetie." "On?" she asked. "On whether or not you're going to tell me why you learned a sound muffling spell," Derpy replied, her face serene as she raised her cup to drain it's contents, all the while watching Sparkler over its rim. Older sisters may have had certain privileges over their younger siblings, but so too did mothers have certain privileges over their daughters regardless of age. Making them squirm on occasion as they tried to escape their mother's seemingly all-knowing gaze was once such privilege. "Y-you know what? I'm fine not knowing... um, oh, shoot! Would you look at the time!? I need to get ready for school too! Bye!" she replied even as a blurred streak of blue and magenta exited the room, vanishing so quickly that Derpy almost believed it to be teleportation. Now alone once again, Derpy finally let her smile slip away as she sagged into her chair, her wings spreading and fidgeting uncomfortably before tucking back against her sides. Being able to spend time with her family as she had soothed her, the little games she played with Dinky and the good natured banter with Sparkler giving life to an otherwise lifeless facade. But inevitably, those times gave way once more to aching dizziness and looming silence which, despite her talent, seemed to close around her following such exchanges. The aches and silence were a small price to pay, however, as those exchanges were the times she remembered most fondly. Not because of any particular action or inaction, but because for those few moments, her smiles were always genuine. > Chapter 3: Routine > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not All Scars Are Seen Chapter 3 Theme: Mad World - Gary Jules Despite being gifted with free will, ponies - and by that extension, most creatures - were, by choice or by force creatures of habit who eventually found a small niche in life to call their own and kept to the routine for fear of losing that niche. For some, such as the schedule obsessed Twilight Sparkle, routines were as natural as breathing. For others, such as the prodigious party planning pink pony Pinkie Pie, routine was something that simply didn't apply to their mercurial nature. Most simply fell somewhere in the middle, following certain aspects of routine without being bound by it. When she was a filly, routine consisted of the simplest of things, when to eat, when to sleep and when to out as laid down by the matron who had raised her and her friends. Later on, that simplicity gave way to rigid drills, uncompromising practice and the constant urge to push herself to the breaking point. Later still, those rigid practices had given way to the act of reassuring herself each day that her old life was long gone along with the necessity of a steady job and family to look out for; days that sometimes ran too short or too long and the eternal desire to keep things as ordered as possible in the chaos that was life. Truthfully, Derpy could barely remember a time when routine had not been part of her life, for she had always valued structure and often times thrived on it. After nearly ten years in Ponyville, the routine had changed very little, falling almost into a sense of tedium that masked old wounds and kept a smile on her face. Of course, Dinky's little escapades and Sparkler's rapidly approaching adulthood had changed the routine up some, but she regulated such things to the necessary evils of growing up. Yet for a reason she could not explain, the small changes had seemed so much greater than anticipated and the current morning was no exception. "Muffin! Sweetie! Hurry up or we're going to be late!" she called, trying and failing to keep the growing irritation out of her voice as she reflected that foals were the very definition of chaos when trying to maintain a schedule. Cinching her saddlebags tight, she felt herself teeter before grabbing the door jam to regain her balance, silently cursing herself as she did so. Feeling her eye roll slightly further off center, she could already tell that it was going to give her more trouble than usual that day as the dull ache was starting to creep further down the back of her head towards her spine. It was tempting to blame such things on her nightmares from earlier, but she was always reluctant to do so. "It isn't real anymore," she whispered, closing her eyes and replaying the conversation with Sparkler along with Dinky's failed adventure as the images of burned fields and broken bodies threatened her psyche once more before the sound of hoofsteps along with the cry of "ready" from her youngest daughter brought her back to the moment and she smiled up to them. "Climb aboard, muffin," she said, her smile returning as Dinky rushed forward to scramble up into her mother's saddlebag, the filly still just small enough to fit as Sparkler laughed at her antics. "I'll meet you two at the school," she said. Nodding, Derpy spread her wings wide and kicked off, raising a few feet into the air, her powerful wings rolling in careful flaps to maintain her equilibrium. The added weight was slight compared to some of the packages she usually carried, but it was still enough to make her list to one side and threaten to drag her down slightly, but she wouldn't disappoint her daughter in their ride to school. Rolling opposite Dinky's weight, Derpy luxuriated in her daughter's delighted giggles while below Sparkler galloped in a futile attempt to keep up with them. Too soon the town school house came into view and with a careful angling of her wings, Derpy leveled out and slowed her flight to come in for a landing, her eye rolling at just the wrong second from the change of air pressure and causing her to stumble as she touched the ground. Fortunately, she managed to recover and merely skipped twice before coming to a stop, thankfully still standing. "Alright, Muffin, come on..." she paused for a moment as her good eye rolled to the side, a smile creeping over her face as she noticed Sparkler pausing to speak to a dark green colt with a blonde mane. "... out." Crawling out of her bag, Dinky bounced happily and threw her forelegs around Derpy's neck in thanks for the flight to school before running off towards the trio of fillies known infamously as The Cutie Mark Crusaders. "She's gonna get hurt hanging out with those three sometime. You know that, right mom?" Turning to face Sparkler, Derpy shook her head and replied, "I've seen a lot worse. At least they haven't tried anything they can't recover from, and finding her cutie mark is important to Dinky so I don't see any problem with it." "I guess." "By the way, Sweetie, who was the colt you were talking to?" "N-nopony!" Derpy raised her eyebrow slightly, a knowing grin on her muzzle as Sparkler frantically sought to look anywhere but her mother's eyes. "Just be nice and make sure he treats you nice," Derpy replied, still grinning as her daughter's coat visibly darkened. "MOM!" "Just saying, Sweetie," she said, "and don't forget you have magic practice with Miss Sparkle tonight." Sparkler just nodded with a noncommittal grunt before trotting away, leaving Derpy alone, a soft sigh escaping her muzzle as she took to the sky once more. Ponyville was by no means a large town, barely a mile across at its widest point, though when the outlying homesteads were included into its footprint it became considerably larger. For this reason, those who lived and worked within it were rarely late to their place of employment and Derpy was no exception, but today she had somehow misjudged the time and found herself with a good fifteen minutes before she was needed at the post office, and after the infectious enjoyment that her daughter had gleaned from riding in her saddle bag, the pegasus decided it was time to do something she hadn't in a very long time. Many ponies asked her why she always flew so low compared to other pegasai, and her normal excuse was that it was safer for whatever she was carrying at the time, but the truth was that since a few months before she had made the town her home, old injuries made it nearly impossible to fly beyond a certain level. But limits were made to be pushed and, angling her wings once more, she drew upon her innate magics to fill them with a warm thermal that drew her higher into the sky than normal, the town slowly shrinking beneath her as she leveled out, holding her breath and keeping her eyes closed as she let herself adjust to the new sensation of pressure around her. Opening her eyes and releasing the breath, she surveyed the area and smiled, figuring herself to be around sixty or seventy feet in the air. It would have been a new personal best if her wing hadn't decided to twitch at that moment, throwing off her internal gyroscope once more and causing her to spin out, flailing her wings and limbs in a desperate attempt to regain control before she met with the rapidly approaching ground. It didn't work, and despite the screaming pain in her foreleg, she thanked Celestia that pegasai were built more durably than most other ponies gave them credit for. "Ahem," came a voice above her. Looking up, Derpy flushed deeply as she stared into the eyes of her boss, a cream-colored earth pony with a salt-and-pepper mane with thick rimmed glasses perched on his snout. "Um... morning, boss..." she said hesitantly, trying to get her legs back under her. "I guess I'm early today huh?" Zip Code, the town's senior mail-carrier and Derpy's boss looked down to her with a stern expression in his dusty grey eyes before chuckling lightly and extending a hoof to help her stand. "Derpy, I swear, I don't know how you can be so dedicated and so skilled when your carrying only to be so clumsy when you're bags are empty," he smiled, winking in a joking manner as she got to her hooves. "I'm not sure, Zip," she replied. "How can you be so good with numbers and never stick to a budget?" "Touche," he replied. "Ready to go to work?" "Yes sir!" she said, snapping of a crisp, military salute that left her boss smiling as the two of them headed inside. Over the course of the day, Derpy once again proved to Ponyville that, while she may have no longer been as good a flyer as she was in her youth, she was still as precise and dedicated as she had ever been. Whether it was a new shipment of records for Ponyville's resident odd-couple Octavia Melody and Vinyl Scratch, new Wonderbolt Posters for Rainbow Dash, letters from family for Applejack and new "superlicious secret ingredients, very hush hush" for Pinkie Pie, she greeted each stop on her route with a warm smile and a friendly wave. The residents, in return, waved and smiled back with many of them pausing to talk for a few moments as they received their parcels. By the time she had settled in for lunch, the weight of her saddlebags had diminished considerably, though there was still a number of deliveries to be made. Unfortunately, by that point, flying had become nearly impossible as the bases of her wings were slowly beginning to tighten as the throbbing pain worked its way down her spin to the middle of her back, her equilibrium slowly failing more and more to where more than once she had had to stop and lean against something or somepony in order to keep her balance until the world stopped spinning. It was moments like that which hurt the most, as more often than not she found herself being stared at with a mixture of pity and disdain by various ponies around the town. The former was always the most prevalent, but the later would still appear from time to time. The worst were the trio collectively known as "The Flower Sisters," Daisy, Lily and Rose who, while nice enough, where worse gossips and more dramatic than anypony else she knew. She didn't hold them any particular animosity of course, but she also couldn't quite bring herself to forgive them for the gossip they had spread - inadvertently or otherwise - when she had first arrived in town. Exhaling slowly as she finished her sandwich, she took a drink of water and quick peek skyward at Celestia's Sun; estimating it to be just a little past one in the afternoon. Checking her mailpouch, she found that the remaining deliveries consisted of only a couple of packages and several bundles of letters for the far side of town. Finishing her lunch quickly, she figured that if she pushed herself, she would be done just around three and could surprise Dinky by picking her up from school and giving her another short flight before she went to her tutoring session; and even if she couldn't muster the strength to fly, she could at least walk with her girls for a bit. True to her guess, at just about three in the afternoon, she found herself at her last delivery which brought her to the town's resident hub of fashion, the famous Carousel Boutique. Or at least that was how Rarity described it whenever she spoke to the white unicorn; though from the reviews she had read in a couple of magazines, if it wasn't wholly already well known, it was going to be in the near future. Knocking on the door, she found it open and trotted inside, looking around for the package's intended recipient. "Hello?" She asked. "Just a moment, darling! I'll be right with you!" Came a disembodied reply from a side room. Figuring that that could only be Rarity, Derpy snickered lightly to herself and started to pace around the room, looking at the various outfits and accessories displayed on the different mannequins. True to form, everything Rarity made was one of a kind and her skill was impressive to say the least; and though it was unlikely that Derpy could ever afford one of the dresses she gazed upon, she could still appreciate their beauty. On in particular, a white gone that looked to be in the final stages of decoration drew her eye and as she approached it, a voice rung out behind her. " Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique, I am Rarity and how may I... Derpy?" "Hello, Miss Rarity, I have a package for you," she said as she craned her neck back to her pouch to pull the last parcel of the day out, holding it up in her teeth by a string until Rarity took it in her sapphire magic and pulled it away. "It's special delivery so if you could sign here please?" Presented with the clipboard, Rarity signed her name quickly and returned it to Derpy as she unwrapped the package. "Thank you Darling, this must be the special thread I was waiting on to finish the dress behind you... ahh! It is!" Pulling a spool of what looked like spun silver from the package, she brandished it proudly in her magic to show to Derpy, who backed up on instinct just in case; an action that proved to be a mistake. Overcome by a wave of dizziness, Derpy felt her hind leg buckle slightly as searing pain tore through her haunch, causing the muscle to lock up solidly. In response, her wings flared outwards to try to maintain her balance, but at the last second, her eye rolled in the opposite direction, jabbing into the socket and causing her head to shake to try to reposition it. The result, was a stumble, followed by a fall of flailing limbs that sent her crashing into the very dress she had been admiring only a moment earlier. "Derpy!" Rarity shouted, dropping the thread and quickly helping the pegasus to her hooves, checking her over as she regained her balance before examining the dress. The scream of shock would later be said to have been heard all the way out to Sweat Apple Acres, and as Derpy finally regained her equilibrium, she stared, mortified, at the long tear that had appeared in the side of the beautiful dress where her limb had sought some sort of purchase, only to damage the garment in her motions. "R-rarity! Oh Celestia I'm so so sorry! I don't know went wrong, I just... for a minute there I... I just..." she exhaled slowly and sank to her haunches, the motion thankfully unknotting the muscle but doing little to ease other discomforts. "H-how much...?" She asked Shocked out of her near fainting spell by the question, Rarity stared at Derpy for several seconds before she realized what she had been asked. "B-beg pardon, darling?" "I asked how much the dress is... I'll pay for the damages to it somehow." Rarity stared at her for several seconds following that statement, the look of horror on her face softening until it became one of contemplation. Taking the dress in her aura, she lifted it up and examined it more closely, a smile spreading across her face as she realized that the tear had occurred along a pleat line rather than along the expanse of fabric itself. Such damage was an inconvenience of course, but thankfully a minor one. If she was completely honest, Derpy's fall had done more damage to the manniquin than the dress itself. "No harm, darling... it looks much worse than it is, I'm sorry I overreacted and startled you." Derpy stared back at her, relief warring with responsibility as she listened. One of the many things she lived by was taking care of her debts, something she had instilled fully in her girls and she wasn't about to let this one go. She may not have had a lot to her name, but she did have her pride. "I... that's very generous of you, Miss Rarity, but I insist on paying something. I... I damaged your property and I need to pay you back somehow." "It's nothing, darling, don't worry I..." "I insist." Rarity hmmed lightly in response to this, not used to customers - or ponies in general - volunteering to pay for damages to things. "Hrm... idea!" She exclaimed, quickly looking Derpy up and down before pacing around her several times. "I know how we can fix this." "How?" "You're almost the exact same size as the client this dress was for, who happens to be a pegasus, maybe a tad bit off in your measurements - towards the lighter side, mind you - but if you'll consent to be a live model for me so that I can do some last minute adjustments I'll happily call us even. What do you say?" Derpy stared at her, dumbstruck for a few seconds before agreeing without further protest. At seven o'clock on the dot, Derpy knocked softly on the door to Carousel Boutique, fidgeting lightly at the guilt that still gnawed at her from the dress she had torn earlier. Rarity, ever the generous mare that she was, was giving her an easy way out, but it did little to assuage the feelings that still lingered. If she couldn't fix it, she may well have just ruined some poor mare's wedding and that was something she absolutely could not stomach. As the door opened, Rarity peered out and smiled warmly. "Ahh, Derpy, right on time I see, please, do come in, darling, I don't wish to keep you too late tonight." Following her mutely into the store, Derpy took a moment to look around and found herself exhaling lightly that the damage she had done earlier hadn't been difficult to repair, the only evidence that it had happened at all being a small bin off to the side with a dustpan handle sticking out of it. Turning to the unicorn, she again expressed her sorrow for what had happened only to have Rarity wave it off with a smile. "Oh think nothing of it, darling, Sweetie Belle and the Crusaders do far worse damage than that on a weekly basis, and besides, your help will more than make up for it." "Yes ma'am," Derpy replied. "Rarity." "What?" "Rarity, darling, please, just Rarity. All the Miss and Ma'am and Madam and all that tends to grate on my nerves and make me feel older than I am. Just Rarity will do, as we're friends here. Now, shall we?" With a nod, Derpy allowed herself to be lead up to the small pedestal surrounded by mirrors, the white silken dress placed comfortable across her back as her wings tucked in tightly before Rarity instructed her to slip them out through the wing-slits she had woven into the dress. Surprisingly, Rarity had managed to get the positioned perfectly the first time as the material did not chaff nor constrict the sensitive muscles of her wings, and the fabric was light enough that it didn't aggravate her aches. As she worked, the two of them talked about nothing in particular, neither gossip nor news, merely friendly banter to fill the silence of working. Very slowly, Derpy found herself relaxing as she stared into the mirror, as she finally took in what she was wearing. The dress was a vision in complex simplicity, white silk lightly embroidered along the edge in intricate patterns of deep silver and light bronze which wove around expertly fitted pearl inlay, giving the entire outfit a sheen that seemed to make her own dull gray coat look much lighter and finer in some ways. She made a motion to smooth out her mane, but was cut off as Rarity did it for her, styling it into a simple over the shoulder ponytail which seemed to glow against the dress. "One day," she heard a phantom voice say to her. "One day you're going to be the talk of the town and envy of every mare in Canterlot when you see the dress I'm going to have made for you." "It's beautiful..." she whispered as the voice faded into the distance. "Thank you, darling, personally I would like to see a bit more color in it, but my client was very specific. She wants her wedding to be simple but elegant and I do my best to deliver," Rarity said, sliding a needle slightly along the hem as she took the train in a short bit. "What kind of dress did you wear, if you don't mind me asking?" Caught off guard, Derpy felt her leg buckle slightly, her primaries extending slightly in agitation as the dull throbbing behind her eye returned in full force, nearly causing her to choke on her own saliva. "Derpy? Is something wrong?" Concentrating, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she took several deep breaths to calm herself, her wings slowly tucking back in as the wobbling in her knees faded out, a long exhale escaping her throat before she finally spoke. "I... never wore one," she said at length. To her credit, Rarity hid her surprise fairly well, but the tell tale tick of her eyebrow and the slight pause of her stitching was enough to let Derpy know that she was trying to add things up on her own. In typical fashion, she knew that that would lead to know end of questions which she needed to head off quickly. Unfortunately, Rarity recovered more quickly than she expected. "I, I'm terribly sorry, darling, I just assumed that, well... being as you are a... um... well because of your..." She shook her head slowly, eyes closed to keep the vertigo in check. "It's not what you might be thinking, Rarity... Dinky was unplanned but her father didn't leave me because of her," she said, exhaling slowly. "We loved each other deeply... but he... he was killed several years ago. I guess you could say it was an occupational hazard." The joke was a poor one and she knew it, but she tried to lighten the mood with its tactlessness, hoping that Rarity would leave well enough alone, but rather than do so, she felt warm forelegs slide around her and pull her into a warm hug. Her first response was to pull away, her fur bristling slightly as she felt her space invaded in such a manner. And yet she couldn't feel the slightest bit of pity or outrage in Rarity's actions, only a subtle sadness for not only herself, but for her daughter as well and that alone allowed her to return the hug with a timidity that surprised her and she felt tears tugging at the corners of her eyes. By sheer willpower, she suppressed them. "I'm very sorry, darling, I didn't mean to dredge up memories like that, can you forgive me?" "Rarity, I ruin a dress, model for you and you're asking me to forgive you? I don't think this is how that works but, water under the bridge okay?" The unicorn smiled warmly at that, nodding as she resumed her stitching and within another few moments, she declared the gown finished and ready for her client. With a nod of her own, Derpy slid out of the dress with exaggerated caution, tucking her wings back inside it as Rarity slide it the rest of the way free before sliding it to one of her mannequins where she brushed it off gently. With a word of thanks, she gave Derpy another light hug. "Would you like to stay for tea, darling? We could chat a bit more if you like." "Thank you, Rarity, I appreciate it, but I need to get home to my girls," she replied. "Understandable, darling, do come back anytime you like." She nodded, thanking her once more before trotting towards the door. As she made to leave, however, she could almost feel the unspoken question that Rarity had left hanging when she agreed, however silently, to let the matter of Dinky's father rest. Taking another deep breath, Derpy answered her. "Trailblazer..." she whispered. "What was that, darling?" "Trailblazer," she repeated, turning her head and fixing Rarity with a sad smile and lidded eyes. "My coltfriend.... my lover... his name was Trailblazer. He was a Lieutenant in the Solar Guard, back before the Griffon Invasion. He... didn't know about Dinky." Turning away, Derpy stared out into the darkness and felt herself shiver at the admission, for it was the first time she had spoken his name in almost ten years. For the longest time, she felt as if she had been able to close that chapter of her life and move forward thanks to her daughters and her friends. Walking away from the Carousel Boutique that night, she felt just how wrong she had been and she didn't want to elaborate by answering any further questions. Somehow, she knew sleep wasn't going to come easily that night. Indistinct shapes filled her vision as the world around her spun, familiar but awkward weight resting on her saddle pad once more; but unlike what she remembered, this weight held a different feeling all together. It was heavier, less concealing but harder to move in, designed to allow her to acclimate to the lighter but more durable weight that would eventually rest there. Turning her head slightly, she marveled at the bronze sheen that covered her flank beneath her pinions and and shod her legs and hooves; it may not have been the golden color she longed to wear, but the sight of it still filled her with pride as she snapped too at the call of attention. "No..." Endless drills were performed over and over again in that bronze carapace, the weight pulling her down to the point it felt she could no longer move, and yet each time she was able to draw a little more from her ever dwindling reserves of stamina. The cadence of the marches soon became her heartbeat, the shouts of the instructors the breath which filled her lungs, the ring of weaponry the feeling of blood pumping through her. And with each ache, her goal drew closer. "S-stop it..." Once again her vision failed her first as sweat slid into her eye and behind the crystal prosthetic, burning her senses as she fought against the vacuum-like pull of the blood-soaked mud around her hooves; the unfamiliar weight that draped over her forcing her slowly down into it, making each movement of her legs a struggle just to take another step. The battle line was no more than one or two hundred yards away, and while there may not have been safety there, there was at least respite if she could make it. "Please..." Very soon, her right legs failed her, sending her forward and into the muck, her face pressed into the thickly clotted mess just as she tried to breath, forcing a bit of it into her throat, causing her to hack and sputter. There was no doubt that the weight had cracked her hind leg, as the sensation that was half-numbing, half agony was already starting to spread to her haunch, the only question was how bad it was; at least her front leg was only pinned and didn't seem broken. Spitting out the last of the mud, she planted her forelegs below her and heaved upwards, dislodging the weight from her shoulders and freeing herself. "No..." Her head turned slightly, breath catching in her lungs as the effort of freeing herself left her momentarily light headed, the world spinning around her as the vision in her eye turned to stars. Her wings stretched reflexively in their new-found freedom, as she tucked her hind leg up against her barrel, teetering on three legs. Looking down and biting the inside of her cheek, she focused on the self-inflicted pain and willed the stars to fade from her vision. "Don't look...." Her vision returning, she felt her breath hitch once more, her balance failing her as she stumbled and fell into the mud. Before her lay a unicorn stallion, eyes wide and glassy, mouth open in a silent scream. She knew his coat was supposed to be a dull violet color, his mane a deep chestnut and his eyes a sparkling blue; but they were none of these things. His horn lay broken, his coat splashed with darker patches of red from uncountable slashes, his golden armor red with his own blood. The wounds paled in comparison to the accusatory look in his eyes as she stared into them. "I...I..." "Why didn't you save me, Derpy?" Her wings snapped open suddenly, but the awkward position left one pinned beneath her barrel as the other shot out to full extension, vertigo rolling through her thoughts to the point she could no longer tell left from right as her foreleg found her mouth once more, her teeth biting down into her flesh and barely shutting out the scream that threatened to pierce the night around her. Like the previous morning, the abrupt ending of the nightmare had jolted her to consciousness, but at least this time it had not been such a violent awakening, which allowed her to take a moment and force her breathing back under control as her muscles relaxed themselves slightly. The words of the dead stallion haunted her, echoing in her mind but she blocked them out with her mantra once more, the vertigo settling down as her wings tucked back into their proper places. Looking to the clock, she found it was a little past five in the morning, meaning she had managed only two hours of rest that night; if she could actually call it that, but also knew that there was no going back to sleep after what she had seen. Rolling onto her hooves once more, her right foreleg immediately buckled, causing her to stumble and slam her side into the dresser, pinning her wing painfully for a few seconds before she righted herself and began to search for her prosthetic eye once more. Slipping the crystal into place and feeling its familiar roll, she mused that two nightmares so close together was almost as unnerving as the nightmare itself, but despite the desire to let her tears flow freely at that memory, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and forced herself to breath evenly until the desire passed. "It's not real... anymore..." she whispered, hugging herself as she stumbled over the last word, pain already starting to build in her eye socket as she trotted out to begin her morning activities. As she passed the mirror in the bathroom, she gazed into her reflection and repeated the mantra once more. But, as she did so, she found that she could not force herself to smile that morning. In spite of her expression, she still managed to find a small comfort in the routine.