> Rocks Cannot Swim > by Feenkatze > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Rocks Cannot Swim > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I am death. I am the shadow that devours the light, I am the storm that turns day into night. I am devastation that comes on black wings; fear me, ponydom, for I will be your end!” Ruin, god of destruction, turned his view towards the peaceful landscape of Faraway Hills, waiting for a response. None came, which was due to the fact that these lands were bare of any sentient life. As far as his six eyes could reach, there was nothing but dust and stones. Ruin shrugged his massive, ten-feet-wide shoulders, which made a thundering sound, and jumped out of the black hole that he’d torn open, spreading his obsidian black wings and slowly sinking towards the ground. To be fair, interdimensional travel was complicated, and it was nearly impossible to determine the exact location of an opening. In the end, none of that would matter anyway – as long as the dimension would be thoroughly and devastatingly destroyed, it was all good. Ruin touched down. There existed no force in this world that could stop him – Equestria was on the brink of apocalypse, it just didn’t know it yet. Maud Pie woke up from a nap as a tremor went through the very ground she’d been sleeping on. The walls of her tent were shaking. “Boulder?” She rolled onto her stomach and searched the tent for her loyal pet rock, finding him hidden under her bag. “Don’t be scared. It’s just an earthquake.” Maud stretched out her hoof to pet him reassuringly when a second tremor came up, stronger than the first one. Startled, the rock jumped towards her. Maud caught him and put him into her chest pocket; finding himself in the familiar place, he calmed down. Maud smiled internally at her pet’s jumpiness. She couldn’t blame him; seldom had they left her family’s farm in the past, and the big wide world could be scary for a little rock like him. A third earthquake shook the ground, and the tent collapsed over their heads. “Alright. Let’s take a look outside.” Maud shoved the tent fabric off her head. It was the early afternoon. Faraway Hills shone in picturesque shades of brown and gray; the playful patterns of granite mixed with the earthy color of claystone and the vibrant gray of basalt. The place was so beautiful that Maud suddenly felt the urge to write a poem (the two hundred and fifth) about it. A couple of rock’s throws away, a huge, grim-looking demon creature towered up at least twenty feet, if not higher, into the sky. Maud gasped internally. The creature was stepping towards her. It walked on two legs, and two pairs of arms hung from broad, edgy shoulders. Its bulky foot slowly moved through the air; as it completed its arc and hit down, another tremor went through the ground. “Do you see that, Boulder? I told you there’s no reason to be scared.” Patiently, she waited for the creature to approach her, being thrown an inch into the air with every one of his steps. Finally, when he was but a few ponies’ lengths away, he came to a halt and turned his head downwards. Three pairs of eyes glared at her. Not being very experienced in social interaction, Maud was a little nervous. “Hello,” she said. The giant stared down at her. She stared back. “I’m Maud Pie.” “I am Ruin, God of Destruction. I am the shadow that devours the light, I am the storm that turns day into night. I am death.” His voice was a deep growl, like distant thunder. Maud wasn’t sure what he meant when he said that he was death, but she didn’t want to appear awkward, so she decided not to bring it up. “Pleased to meet you.” “Do you not fear me, mortal?” Maud examined him from top to bottom. His skin was smooth like polished marble. A set of pointy claws sat at the end of each of his four arms. His pupils were slits, and all six eyes, burning in their holes like ember, were focused on her. “No,” she answered. Ruin kept staring, and for a moment, an awkward silence emerged between them. “W-Well then. Fear has always been more my mother’s thing, I guess.” Maud said nothing. Ruin cleared his throat, which made a noise not much unlike a landslide rolling down a slope. “What are you doing out here all on your own, pony?” “I’m studying rocks. And I’m not on my own.” Maud reached into her pocket. “This is my pet. His name’s Boulder.” Ruin bent forward to take a look at him. “He’s a rock,” Maud added. “I see.” “Do you have a pet?” Ruin frowned and shook his massive head. “I’ve always wanted a puppy, but Mom won’t allow it.” Maud put Boulder back into the pocket. “When my sister Pinkie came home with an alligator, our parents were also skeptical. But in the end she was allowed to keep him.” “Your parents must be nice.” Ruin’s gaze drifted off into the distance for a moment. Then he looked back down onto Maud and sighed. “Would you mind if I sat down with you for a bit?” Maud took one step to the side to make room for him. “Make yourself at home.” Ruin raised one of his claw hands in gratitude and slowly bent his knees, settling down on the ground next to Maud. A cloud of dust arose, swallowing the two of them; when it faded away, Ruin was sitting with crossed legs, one pair of arms resting on his knees, and the other pair folded in front of his chest. “So, you said you study rocks? Why do you do that?” “Because I like rocks.” Ruin nodded. “I see.” “Do you like rocks, too?” “I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about it; in most dimensions they’re just … there.” “Every rock is special. Like Boulder; I’ve never met another rock quite like him.” Ruin scratched his head, and a slide of iron shards rained down. “I’ve never looked at it that way.” “I’ve written a poem about it.” “A poem?” “I’ve written thousands of poems. Most are about rocks. But I’ve also written some about minerals.” “Mom says that all poetry is pointless and a failure.” “I don’t agree.” “Hm. Can I hear one?” “Sure.” Maud was thrilled. She always was when she got to recite her poetry. “I wrote this one when I was studying pebbles: Rocks sink. I sink. Heavy like a rock. I sink like a rock. Rocks cannot swim. I sink. Because I cannot swim. Because I am a rock. We all are rocks. We all sink.” Ruin rested his head on his claws. Two of his eyes were closed, the others were staring into the distance. “I like it.” “Do you want to hear another one?” “Yes, please!” “Rocks are still. I am still. You are still. Because we are rocks. I am rock. You are rock. All we are is rocks. We are still, Still we are Rocks.” “Mom is wrong,” Ruin decided. “These aren’t failure. They are the opposite of failure.” “Thanks.” Maud couldn’t believe how well they were getting along. Usually, other ponies were quite shy around her. “Ruin. What do you do?” Ruin, who had dug out a claw full of rocks and inspected them with newly found fascination, looked up. “I am God of Destruction. I came to destroy Equestria.” “Do you like destroying things?” Ruin thought about that. “I don’t know. It does feel nice sometimes to see that you have the power to make the very core of a world tremble as you slowly dematerialize it. But other than that, I guess no, not particularly.” “Then why are you doing it?” “Mom tells me to.” Maud took out Boulder. She often did this; weighing him in a hoof and petting his smooth surface. He might not be very talkative, nor particularly brave, but he was a very loyal pet. “I don’t want this world to be destroyed,” she said. Ruin looked down at his claws. “Naturally. I’m sorry. Mom said I have to.” They fell silent for some time. Ruin went back to inspecting the rocks that he had dug out. Maud got up and lifted her head to take a look into his claw. “That’s Limestone. It’s a sedimentary rock. This here looks like feldspathic litharenite.” “Wow, okay. Thanks.” With a claw he poked at it, breaking out some rock fragments. “Maud Pie?” “Yes?” “I don’t want to destroy this world.” He paused. “But, I don’t know. Mom is going to be mad if I don’t do it.” Maud breathed in, then out, then put Boulder back into her pocket. “I’ve mentioned Pinkie Pie before, my sister. She’s always been a little different from the rest of the family. When she told my dad she wanted to go away, he tried to hold her back. But she went anyway.” “What are you trying to say?” Maud put a hoof onto his claw. “How did you become God of Destruction?” Ruin sighed. “Mom gave me the title.” The rocks clicked in his claw as he moved them around. Finally, he set them down, carefully, as if he was afraid that he could hurt them. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. I have to do what I like, not what Mom likes. If she wants to be Goddess of Fear, that’s her thing. But I have to go my own way and make my own decisions for myself.” Maud could barely keep herself from blinking her eyes. “I believe in you.” A couple of hours and two hundred and seventy rock poems later, Maud and Ruin faced each other to say goodbye. Maud reached into her bag. “I want to give you something.” She pulled out a piece of string; colorful clumps of rock-shaped candy were strung on it. “My sister Pinkie’s made this for me, but I’m sure she’d want you to have it.” She stood up on her hindlegs and put the necklace over one of his claws. Ruin took Maud into his hand, lifting her up and carefully petting her, just like she always did with Boulder. “I think I know now what I want to do. Instead of bringing an inevitable end to dimensions, I want to explore them. Maybe I can write a book about all the places I’ll visit.” “That sounds exciting.” He set her down on the ground again. Maud touched his claw with her hoof. “If you ever need a friend, remember that you have one in Equestria.” Ruin nodded and stepped away from her. “Thank you for everything. One day I’ll come back and bring you rocks from other dimensions.” He raised an arm, and a glow emerged from the inside of his claw. The air around him became blurry. Maud stepped back as Ruin opened a portal to another world. Her friend raised another one of his hands as he vanished. Maud kept staring at the spot where Ruin had stood. Maybe, she thought, she understood her sister a little better now. She should write her a letter about it. Maud turned away.