Weak Spots

by SanityCheck8080

Rating: everyone
Tags:
Length: 1875

Woah!

Thanks to the aftershocks of a tragedy, Lyra's fascination had gone sour. What she once admired, she now wishes to destroy. Will she be able to regain faith in her area of interest, or will the remnants of chaos become too much to bear?

Inspired by Anthropology and Discorded Whooves.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-19 14:35:35 UTC

The Head

Bon Bon was tired. It was hard working at Sugarcube Corner, for a multitude of reasons. Sure, the hours were lousy and her coworkers were hard to put up with at times, but the pay was generous, and she needed the money if she wanted a place to sleep.

Speaking of a place to sleep, her roommate would probably be home by now. She had a habit of visiting the library at odd times, looking for new "studying materials", as if it was a subject worth studying. Bon Bon rolled her eyes and walked through the door, to be greeted by the "whoosh" of a knife flying past her head.

"Get out of the way!" came from the usually mint mare, who had apparently undergone a dye job. "What... you...?" or something similar was sputtered by Bon Bon as the knife was telekinetically pulled from the wall and added to a collection of about seventeen. "Practicing." Lyra spit back wearing an expression that could be described as an upside-down smirk.

Bon Bon, partially recovered, had a chance to observe her surroundings. The walls were covered in figures of what appeared to be deformed ponies, standing on two hooves, but she knew better. There were bulls eyes at the head and heart. "Lyra, you've gone too far this time! Knives!? What are you even doing!?"

"I told you. Practicing. I need to learn how to kill humans."

"This needs to st-" Bon Bon froze in her tracks. "Did you say killing?"

"Yeah, killing. Humans are terrible. They only want to hurt each other, and after they destroy themselves, they'll be coming for ponies next. I need to protect us from the humans." By now Bon Bon had noticed a change in Lyras' appearance. "Is your coat grey? What happened?" Bon Bon asked, stepping closer.

"Nothing. Everything! It's better this way." Lyra snapped, somehow managing to grab a knife with a hoof and throw it almost perfectly into the heart of the nearest figure on the wall.

Bon Bon was somewhat afraid, but still curious. "Why not just use your magic?"

Lyra shot her a look. "Humans are diabolical. The first way they'll try to fight me is by breaking my horn. I can't let them make me weak. I have to find their weaknesses and strengths."

Bon Bon was afraid for her friend. "This isn't like you. You love humans. They fascinate you. You don't want to kill them! Remember hands?"

This angered Lyra even more. "I hate humans! Hands? You mean the very hands they use to craft their tools of carnage! They only want to destroy all that is good. I will not let that happen!

At this point, Bon Bon was desperate. "You told me that Lyres were originally created by humans! All that beautiful music is because of them! Please Lyra, calm down!"

Lyra had fire in her amber eyes. "Human music isn't real music! They make it to promote themselves, to show how they're better than others. That's not what music is about. Humans can never understand. They don't have souls. They are all monsters."

Bon Bon was staring at the tip of a knife several inches away, it having been thrust at her at some point during the outburst. Keeping her eyes on the pointed instrument, she backed up to the open door, then broke into a run. Her roommate had lost it. She needed help. She ran to the first place she thought of.

“Mayor! Mayor!” she cried as she burst through the door to the town hall. “Something’s wrong with Lyra! I’m afraid she’s going to hurt somepony! You’ve got to help!”

If there was one word to describe the mayors’ expression, it would be exasperated. “Bon Bon, I don’t have time for this. Lyra is probably just being Lyra. You know how she is. I have real problems. Apparently, some ponies are having relapses from what happened with Discord. I don’t blame them. It was a traumatic experience. Still, try talking to her. It’s probably just a cry for attention.”

Bon Bon had a sneaking suspicion that either the mayor wasn’t listening, or just didn’t care. Or both. Either way, she wasn’t going to find help here. She was running out of options. She turned around to leave when she noticed the door to the archives was ajar. Anything might be helpful now.

She opened the cabinet marked H and checked through it. “Harvest… Hazel… ah, here’s Lyra!” She opened the manila folder and a piece of paper flew out. There was something written on it, She began reading. Her eyes widened.

Lyra was upset. She didn’t know why she had ever bothered studying humans in the first place. She would have been better off not knowing about them in the first place. Maybe then she could have lived her life in peace without having to worry. But alas. She had learned of them and studied them (though whatever had fueled her approval of them was no longer in play) and would now know how to take them out.

She wasn’t worried about whether or not she would be able to kill them when the time came. She knew their true nature. She knew their true intentions. She saw through their lies and deception in their attempts to get themselves on top. Finally, most importantly, she knew she was not one of them. With that in tow, she was invincible.

Suddenly, the door flew open, knocking her to the ground. “Lyra, read this.” The paper fluttered to the ground, resting in front of her eyes. It was a letter, addressed to her.

I am leaving this here in case an emergency arises and I am not able to deliver the news in person. This is for your eyes only, Lyra, and I want that to be clear. You are the only pony I know who would check her own file looking for information. What I am about to disclose will change everything, and I suggest putting this letter away in a safe place unless the situation is very dire. If such a situation has reared its ugly head, read on.

You are not actually a pony. I found you myself at a very young age and disguised your true from. The spell is permanent, and I am the only one that can revert it. You are actually what is called a human. I know this a lot to swallow, so please bear with me. There is a lot of complicated magic and science involved.

Imagine two carts travelling down the road at the same speed. The scenery changes, and they occasionally pass by other carts, but these particular carts are always side by side. Now imagine there is a multitude of strings connecting the carts together. These carts are our world and the human world.

Let’s take a break for a minute. Ready to go on? Ok.

Imagine one cart is filled with apples, and the other one is filled with grapes. Now picture an apple flying out of the cart, rolling down one of the strings, and landing in the cart of grapes. That apple is you.

In more complex terms, our universe is, ethereally, very close to the one the humans call home. Close enough that we occasionally get glimpses of them with our magic, and entire books have been written on the subject. These “windows” between worlds are represented by the strings.

In your case, instead of a window, it was a door. The universe with humans in it, which, for simplicities sake, I’ll just call Earth, considering in the current parallel timeline it is the only planet with humans on it- I’ll stop babbling. Anyway, Earth doesn’t have the same kind of magical energy as Equestria, so when a window opened by you, a sort of magical vacuum was created and you were pulled from Earth to Equestria.

In theory, this creates a new realm of possibility of inter-dimensional travel, even unintentionally, but let’s not get into that right now.

So I find you and I turn you into a pony. What next? I get rid of you as fast as possible. Suddenly pulling a filly out of nowhere seems a bit suspicious, don’t you think? I found two perfectly willing ponies to take you in, which you might know as your parents. I didn't abandon you though. Not at all.

Every once and a while I would check in on you. Throughout your life, I've left tidbits here and there to make sure you knew your roots. That first book you received that was delivered to you by mistake? It wasn't a mistake. That sketch of a hand you found shoved away in an old bookcase that befuddled the librarians? Guess who planted it there.

The one thing I wasn't the mastermind behind was the lyre. You picking that thing up and totally rocking it really was fate. Special talents are special talents, no matter the universe.

In any case, don't bother looking for me. Correct whatever the problem is and go back to your perfectly good life. Forget you ever received this letter. It doesn't matter what you're born as, it matters what you choose to let yourself be. Never forget that. Best of luck to you.

There was no signature. Lyra was shaking. She felt angry. She felt confused. Most prominently, she felt betrayed. She herself was the very thing she had set out to destroy. She had human blood in her veins. A human brain in her head. A human soul in her body. She shuddered.

"Lyra are... are you okay? Is everything better now?" She didn't answer at first. After a few seconds, she got up from the floor. When she turned around, her expression made Bon Bon want to throw up and hide under a bed.

"Okay? Okay?! Am I? Will I ever be? I'm one of them. One of them. Do you know what that means? Huh? Do ya?" It was Bon Bon's turn to be silent. Lyra was now devoid of any expression. "I'll be the last to go." With that, she was out the door, assortment of knives in her wake.

Lyra was huddled in a corner in a cave. It was cold. She didn't care anymore. All that mattered was her mission. She now knew how to accomplish it. If she was able to come here, other humans would be too. She couldn't let that happen. She knew firsthand just how terrifying they could be. She would find the one who had written the letter. They would know how to cross universes.

In a flash, there was a knife buried halfway to the hilt in the cave wall. On that very wall, there happened to be an outline of a body haphazardly sketched. The knife had hit exactly where the brain would have been. Lyra was all the way across the cave.

For no particular reason, Lyra began to laugh. And Laugh. And Laugh. It wasn't that funny, and she knew it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. If xenocide of the species you belong to wasn't funny, she didn't know what to think anymore.