A Virtue Unabridged
A Fanfic of the series My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic
By Stanku
Run, gallop, sprint, flee, run. Whatever you do, run. Escape from the horror, towards the light, just an inch more, just half an inch more, just a –
He fell over.
He got up, because he had to, because he needed to run. Otherwise they would get him, they would get him and they would make him, they would make him, they would – No, he would not think about the room he would not think about the room he would not think about the room he would no he –
He fell over again, this time twisting an ankle. It really was hard to run while your hind legs were chained together like this, really hard indeed. Actually, Aspen Leaf’s progress, which he wanted to believe had been running, had resembled more like an awkward mix of hopping and skittering. This was the best he could in his current state manage, though, for the chains didn’t surrender an inch more freedom for him. An outside observer might also have wondered why anypony would run through a forest at night with his hind legs chained together in the first place. Surely not for fun?
No, not for fun. For life.
Must keep running, must keep moving, must live.
The stinging pain in the ankle made Aspen Leaf bite his own tongue, the blood mixing in with his saliva and dripping through his gritted teeth. He stopped his awkward advancing and looked at his leg, an act which he instantly regretted. The chains had chafed the skin around his ankle raw and the pain was getting worse by the second. And now he had twisted his ankle, too…
He wouldn’t make it.
But he had to.
Celestia needed to know.
With a great effort, Leaf turned to his back and then on sitting position, so that he could get a better look at his ankle, although he really didn’t want to. The sight of blood had always made him feel sick, especially when it was his own blood in question. Nonetheless, something needed to be done to the chains and to the twisted ankle or he would surely be caught in no time, and then…
They would put him back to the room.
The thought made Leaf’s already overworking heart miss a beat, or at least it made him feel like it did. Fighting back the instinct to retch, Leaf began to study his damaged leg with more care. Even though he was an unicorn and quite a talented magic user, healing magic was a branch he hadn’t spent much time studying. He was a scholar, not a doctor, but like every unicorn in Equestria, he knew the most simple spells as what came to the art of healing, including the one to ease pain. It had been a while since he had last used it, though, and the spell, like all the spells designed to meddle with physical bodies, carried some risks. It didn’t require much err to simply tenfold the pain in the broken limb and even the thought of that almost made Leaf faint then and there.
But on the other hoof, what did he stand to lose? If he was caught, it would be all over, for both him and for everypony in Equestria. With a prayer of sorts, Leaf closed his eyes and cast the spell.
The pain relieved. It didn’t disappear, but he felt like he could walk and stand again and so he did. After getting on all fours, he dared to breathe again, dared even to examine his surroundings a bit, for the blind panic of the escape had released its grip for now. He looked around himself, seeing nothing but trees and darkness. Not even the moon was shining tonight, not to mention the stars that also had been covered by the blanket of clouds.
He tried to put more weight on his damaged leg and sighed with relief when the pain didn’t turn unbearable. Still, the ankle was twisted, which meant that he needed to find somepony who knew how to fix it, for even though the pain wasn’t a problem for now, it would be after an hour or so. After that, the pain would just exceed the artificial dullness brought by the spell.
Suddenly Aspen Leaf froze, for he had heard something. A distant voice, so faint that one might have mistaken it for wind, but Leaf wasn’t such a fool as to believe that.
They were on his trail. He didn’t know how, but they were, he was sure of that.
He began to run.
But the shackles reminded him of their presence, bringing him down once again. Leaf might have cursed aloud, but the taste of blood on his tongue discouraged him from speaking. Instead, he raised himself back on sitting position and stared at the iron chains that he had began to loathe so much. To do something like this to a fellow pony… It was unforgivable. Celestia would punish the ponies who did this to him, Leaf was sure of that.
If the bonds in his ankles had been just some regular iron, he would’ve just cut through them with his magic. His captors had been more thorough than that, though, oh yes they had been – they were nothing if thorough, indeed. The chains were inscribed with a spell that rejected all magical attempts to break them. Leaf even knew the enchantment in question, for the otherwise invisible runes had glowed with white light for the first time he had tried using his horn to sever his shackles. They also seemed to prevent him from using teleport spells, as he had found out.
Without his magic, there was nothing he could do to the bonds that restricted his movements. Still, he could hear the wind carrying sounds other than just the rustling of trees.
He began crawling. It had rained all last night, which meant that the soil was practically gluing itself to Aspen Leaf’s skin, staining him with mud and muck. As if he already didn’t feel like a hunted animal…
After only half an hour, the sticks, rocks and sand of the ground had ripped his belly and limbs full of scratches and wounds where the mud seeped in, causing them to itch in intolerable manner.
And when he had crawled an hour or so, he stumbled and fell from a steep cliff which he hadn’t noticed in the darkness. It had been a miracle, really, that such an event hadn’t taken place earlier, considering how uneven and craggy the terrain here was. This fact did absolutely nothing to ease the pain caused by the rock that Leaf hit his head against during the fall. And just like in a play designed by some madman, the spell that had so far dulled the pain in his ankle faded while he lay in the pool of muddy water that was slowly turning red from the blood oozing from all his cuts. Leaf could tell that it had faded, for the excruciating agony made him scream aloud.
And then he could see it.
On the top of the small cliff from where he had just fallen.
How long it had followed him?
The pony with the, with the… With the…
It was holding a…
No…
Not that. Anything but that.
“NO!” Leaf screamed in high pitched, panicked voice. The pony on the cliff didn’t react in any way.
Leaf tried to stand, but screamed instead. He tried to crawl, but the pit he had fallen into had slippery walls that kept on throwing him back to the bottom. The more frantic his attempts grew the deeper he seemed to sink, until finally he managed to pull himself up from the hole, although the effort made him cry from pain, the tears falling on his mud-stained face.
When he turned on his stomach to gaze upon the figure of the pony on the cliff, it had disappeared. That did nothing to subside the fear that spread all over Leaf’s mind and body, but on the contrary it made him feel even more paranoid.
It was about then that he realized that there was a light in the darkness – for a mad instant he thought it was the sign of his pursuers catching up with him. But the light wasn’t moving. In the darkness it was hard to say, but the faint glow might have been a couple hundred meters away from him, just being there. There was no explanation, save...
A house?
A house. It had to be. For the love of Celestia, let it be a house, just for once, let it be a house… With ponies inside, yes, some friendly, normal ponies, a farmer with his family, eager to help a fellow pony in peril. Just let it be a house.
Gathering the last of his fleeting strength, Aspen Leaf turned to sit and concentrated on casting another dulling spell on his ankle. He knew it wouldn’t be as effective as it had been before, and that if he used too much, it wouldn’t at some point dull the pain at all, yet he had to use it now. There was no way he could make it to the light without it. So he cast the spell and began limping towards the light as fast as he could, with the shackles clinking as he went.
He didn’t dare look behind himself until he was there.
It ended up being a house, indeed. It had to be said, though, that Leaf’s joy was cut short by the realization that the house, if such a word even applied to the ruin in front of him anymore, was clearly abandoned a long while ago. Even in the dark, Leaf could see the paintless walls, broken windows, broken roof and all the other characteristics of a house deserted in ages past.
But… Where had the light come from, then? Now that he thought about it, it had just… Disappeared… At some point when he had been making his way towards it. But how could he have missed something like that?
The house’s front door opened with a creak.
Aspen Leaf couldn’t help but stare at the utter darkness that flowed from within the opened doorway. He stared, for even the thought of moving a muscle had evaporated at the instant the door had opened, seemingly all by itself. So he stared, and waited, until…
Nothing happened.
This gave Leaf an opening to breathe again. He even dared to back a few steps away from the house that, in some very weird fashion, seemed to be alluring him to enter in.
Oh no, not in a million years. Instead, he turned.
And saw the pony with the –
No.
No.
Not that.
NOT. THAT.
Leaf made a sound that almost wasn’t a scream and could’ve passed as a laugh, although not in this context. He backed away, backed until his hind legs hit the porch of the house, onto which he rose, all the while keeping his eyes fixed to the figure covered in shadows.
And despite the pain, despite the irons digging into his flesh, he leaped through the open door which he then slammed shut behind him. He scanned the room with eyes wild with fear, saw a table of sorts and threw it against the door, where the rotten wood of the furniture simply exploded from the impact. An old bookshelf got a similar treatment from Leaf’s magic, although this time he restrained himself a bit more and set the object more carefully against the front door. In a moment he had ripped some blanks free from the inner walls and used them to cover the few windows the room had, after which he stopped to draw some air to his lungs again.
That would hold the thing for a while, he thought.
Until he remembered what the dark pony had been wielding in the first place.
Perhaps the house had a cellar he could hide into? Or better, a back door to escape from? Leaf didn’t content himself with just guessing at such things, but began searching the house room by room instead.
Only then did he realize the nature of the building he had entered in.
Without a doubt, it had, at some point of its history at least, served as an accommodation for a witch.
This was bad. Very bad.
It almost drove Leaf insane right then and there.
But he gathered himself on the brink of the void, for he knew that he was the only hope Equestria had of surviving the battle to come. He was to be this land’s saviour, the hero about whom tales and songs would be made a thousand years after his time. He wouldn’t break, not at a time like this. Not ever.
The house was clearly abandoned, anyway. That was plain to see, from the way how everything had simply… Decayed… Both inside and outside of the house. Sure, there were still some herbs hanging from the roof (probably for drying purposes) and the painted runic circle in the center of one of the rooms was barely visible anymore. Still, those and other signs told a scholar like Aspen Leaf, who had spent the better part of his life studying the ways and culture of the witches in Equestria, that the cottage he was in had once been in service of a witch. The thought made cold shudders travel through his very bones.
Beside the nightmarish fact that he had stumbled on a witch's cabin, though, there wasn’t much that Leaf could find out about the rooms he searched. There was no second floor, no cellar, not even a back door. Just three rooms, a fireplace and some windows which he had avoided as best as he could. There really was nothing he could use, nothing of help.
He could try to squirm through the chimney and up to the roof…
The fact that he was actually seriously considering that option made him burst into hysterical laugh that travelled all the way through the broken windows and into the darkness beyond. He laughed at the hopeless absurdity of his situation, at the mindless goals of his fantasies, at the life in general. He laughed until it hurt.
For a moment, he even laughed at the shadowy figure of the pony that stood in front of him, holding a –
“NO!” Leaf screamed and backed against the wall behind him. The stranger just stood there, face covered in shadows like always, the blade on his side glimmering unnaturally in the darkness.
“You are not real!” Leaf screamed from the bottom of his lungs, spitting bloody saliva while he spoke. The stranger still didn’t move a muscle.
Leaf’s horn glowed red when he ripped a plank with nails still clinging on it from a wall. Without thínking, he swung the pony in front of him with it, the magical aura surrounding the plank illuminating the room with carmine red.
The plank hit hard on the right temple of the figure, with one of the nails digging deep into its skull. Leaf could clearly hear the bone crack. The pony collapsed on the dirty floor, which immediately began turning red from the blood that leaked from the wound.
In the red room, Aspen Leaf mumbled to himself.
“I, I didn't mean to, she was, I, she, she shouldn’t have…”
He could see the face of the stranger now. It was a young mare with green mane and eyes yellow as corn. The look on her bloodstained face was something between confusion and amusement.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Aspen Leaf said calmly and quietly, to nopony in particular.
Somepony touched him from behind.
It was the pony with face covered in shadows. He was holding a saw.
At that point, Leaf’s consciousness simply abandoned him.
***
With the descent of darkness came the mists of dream, enveloping Aspen Leaf in their embrace.
There was a room. A room of vermilion.
And... Figures...
Forms made of white, of white so pure that it hurt to look at them.
There was a blade.
A saw.
No. Not that, anything but that, please, let it be anything but that.
It approached him still. No matter how he begged, how he cursed, how he threatened, the saw neared him as inevitably as death itself.
Pain cut through him like a knife, pulsing through his veins, his flesh, his soul. It was... Unspeakable... The horror of it, the fear created by the anticipation of the next wave of agony almost exceeding the actual pain in unbearableness.
It was sawing through him.
”He's awake, he's awake!” shouted an unknown voice. It sounded real, but the veil between dream and reality had long since faded from Leaf's consciousness, leaving only a haze behind. He couldn't tell if he was awake or not anymore.
”For Celestia's sake, keep him asleep!” another voice said, as unfamiliar as the last one. It was recognizably a male’s and sounded nervous.
”I can't, his subconsciousness is just a mess, I can't control it!”
Leaf opened his eyes. He tried to rise up, but couldn't, tried to move his head, but didn't succeed any better in that. His eyes moved like lightning in their sockets, wide with fear, moist with tears.
From the chaotic picture of white coated ponies (mostly unicorn stallions), bright lights and walls of white, Aspen Leaf realized that he was in the room. He was in the room.
In the...
He...
They...
NO.
He tried to scream, but his mouth had been muzzled. And then some part of him recognized a pattern of movement that stood out from the rest of the motion in the room. Among the seemingly mindlessly running ponies, he noticed this very mechanical and steady motion that was taking place very near his head – he could just about see the blade moving backwards and forwards above him. It reminded him of...
The saw.
And at that point, the straps all around him almost failed to restrain his mindless struggling on the bed that he had been tied to.
”Keep him down, keep down!”
Hooves grabbed him, strong limbs of unseen enemies. He could feel them on his legs, on his torso, even on his neck. The panic turned to blind rage.
His horn began to glow red again.
”He's trying to cast a spell, he's trying to – ”
A flash of vermilion illuminated the white room, but before it could reach the walls, it was met by blue light that cut through the paranoid red, fencing it, fighting it back. Leaf could feel his spell fading, could feel some force extinguishing it like a waterfall extinguishes a candle flame. With a final push, he channeled all his strength into his horn to combat it.
But then it stopped.
It all stopped.
The room returned white again, all the movement ended. Hooves let go of him, the mechanical motion receded. Only the pain lingered, a paralysing pulse that seemed to radiate from the top of his head.
What had happened?
”Good work, Doctor, good work,” said somepony who Leaf couldn't see. It sounded like a mare. Suddenly, all around him, voices began to speak, congratulating each other and this ”Doctor” on work well done. Leaf just waited, for he could do nothing more.
He felt... Empty. Like nothing really mattered anymore. Like something had... Changed... But he couldn't say what that was, exactly.
Not until he saw the unicorn horn that was handed over above him.
His horn that was handed over above him.
His. Horn.
They had cut off his horn.
”Put him to sleep now, Nurse Cotton Ball. The patient needs rest, for now.”
They had cut off his –
***
To Princess Celestia of Equestria, on the Eve of the Seventh Turning, Year 570
Subject: Second Report of the Patient Aspen Leaf of Everdream Hospital
My Princess Celestia,
as the current Chief Doctor of the Everdream Hospital, it is my sullen duty to inform you of the latest developments that have taken place on the case of the patient you send us just over a week ago, the patient in question being none other than the scholar Aspen Leaf. I shall go straight to the point of why I have written this report: We have successfully carried an operation called cornusection to the aforementioned patient today. That is to say, we have amputated Aspen Leaf's horn.
We did this because of the danger he presented to this facility and to its staff. Indeed, the threat I speak of was not just a fickle of our imagination but the exact opposite of that. And so I must inform Your Highness of another sorrowful state of affairs: Of the death of a nurse called Emerald Mane.
I shall now go through the tragic events that have led to these two unspeakable things. I shall start from the day when I wrote my first report, on the very day that Aspen Leaf came to us in Everdream Hospital.
Like I in my first report correctly anticipated, Aspen Leaf proved to be a difficult patient to treat from the start. The deep paranoia that was evident in his behaviour didn't fit at all to the usual day cycle of our patients, most of whom couldn't stand his presence. He didn't immediately show any serious aggressive behaviour towards the other patients or the staff, yet the fanatic glee of his behaviour clearly hinted of serious mental problems. The superficial embodiment of his problems were these witches about whom he constantly preached to anypony showing even minor interest to him, but in the few therapy session I had with him, I couldn't determine the hidden cause of his perversion.
However, I have already spoke of Aspen Leaf's psychological evaluation in my first report and so far I have not much factual content to add on that department. Looking backward, we should have tried to understand him better before giving more freedom to him, although the reason we did so in the first place was mainly because you had instructed us to do so.
So, after the initial shock brought about by the change of environment had apparently faded, and when Aspen Leaf began showcasing a more calm and controlled behaviour, we let him go to walks into the surrounding woods of the hospital, although as escorted and chained from the hind legs, as is the protocol here. Two nurses were constantly with him for the first six days that he was allowed to step outside the facility. The walks seemed to have a positive effect on him, for he became calmer, even up to the point where he could spent hours just staring a blank wall in his private room. I personally regarded the change as a turn for the better.
I could not have been more wrong about that.
On the seventh day since his arrival, we let Aspen Leaf to his daily walk with only one nurse with him. The other nurse had another patient that needed attention, so they agreed with themselves to separate that time. I have already discussed the severity of the other nurse’s misjudgement with him, although I have not yet decided about the course of action that I should take. Perhaps Your Highness could advise me on this matter?
But, to return to my report, it must be stated that none of us could have guessed what Aspen Leaf would do, given even a slight chance to escape. There is no easy way to break this, so I’m just going to say it: Aspen Leaf killed the nurse Emerald Mane. He did this with his magic and, apparently, with a jagged rock. If your highness wishes to know more about the details of her demise, I have included an autopsy report along with this letter.
Aspen Leaf and Emerald Mane had left to the walk at the midday, but it was only in the evening that we found the body of Mane. Leaf had showcased a twisted sense of rational thinking and pushed the body into a river, which made it very difficult for us to narrow down the search of Aspen Leaf. Indeed, the chance that he might have escaped from us for good was a very real one.
This, for the fortune of all, ended up not to be the case.
We found Aspen Leaf during the next morning in an abandoned cabin, some five miles from the hospital. The dogs we had brought along really were a great help in locating him. It was an amazing achievement from him, actually – to advance that far in a nightly forest, with hind legs chained together. It really was a good thing that we had used enchanted iron to shackle him, the kind which prevented him from cutting through them or using any kind of teleport or levitation spell.
The lack of resistance from Leaf’s part, upon being captured, was another lucky turn of events. We found him unconscious, you see. I was there at the frontline of searching operation and was prepared for a desperate last stand, yet there he was, sleeping on some cabin floor.
The reason why Aspen Leaf would have just spent a night in some deserted cabin is beyond me. It could be that his strength had simply faded, for he was in pretty rough shape when we found him. Or perhaps his subconscious could not handle the burden of sins anymore, at which point he actually just wanted to be caught. The reasons behind his actions are quite meaningless to know now, however, for like I stated at the beginning of this report, Aspen Leaf is now a hornless unicorn. He can’t harm anypony anymore, not other unicorns at least, against whom he presents currently no threat at all.
To be frank, I had discussed the option of cornusection with some of my colleagues the first day that Aspen Leaf was brought to us. We decided to refrain from this because we knew that Your Highness deeply disapproves of the procedure in principle, despite the positive reactions it has proven to inspire in some of the patients. I actually discussed the technical sides of the operation with Aspen Leaf himself on the day that he came to us, even showed him our operation room and some of the surgical instruments required in the operation. I dare say, he seemed quite impressed by my theory regarding the emancipatory aspects of the cornusection.
Truly, the liberative effect of the aforementioned operation can not be denied. I would be surprised if Aspen Leaf could harm even a fly anymore, considering the catatonic state he has collapsed into. We keep guard on him day and night, though, for I am no such a fool as to fall for the same trick twice. Still, the fact that we even have to feed him now hints that perhaps his state is authentic this time. My firm believe, which I have stated for Your Highness before, is that radically disturbed patients need more radical treatment for real progress to be archived. The cornusection is a prime example of this theory applied to practice. I will write more about Aspen Leaf’s state in a month, or earlier if new developments occur.
I will end my report with the request that, if Your Highness has found anything to note or criticize in my actions on the case of Aspen Leaf, you will inform me about this at once. Like always, I am nothing but willing to learn from my mistakes.
Yours Truly,
J. Pidgeon, Head Doctor of Everdream Hospital
P.S. Before I could seal the letter, I was informed that Aspen Leaf has presented a request of sorts. He appears to still be lost in his inner fantasies, for he begs that Your Highness would be warned of a nationwide conspiracy machinated by witches. He even asked that you would come to visit him one of these days.
The fact that the patient, even after the cornusection, still seems to show no increased clarity of mind, should not be regarded as an straightforward argument against the procedure in general. The effects of the operation need time to sink in, after all, time and perhaps some stronger sedative medicines.
Perhaps the fact that Aspen Leaf came under my care has some positive aspects to it, after all. I am nothing if deeply excited by this opportunity to finally showcase the beneficial effects of the cornusection and its after-care to an otherwise unsalvageable patient.
By my honour as a Doctor, I will cure this pony lost beyond Your Divine Grace.
