The Laws of Life.

Chapter 9: The extent of life.

(Three years later.)

I still find myself thinking about that night, the one that happened three years ago. I keep thinking of things that I could have said, or done differently. Maybe then, my best friend would still be here. Maybe them, he would have been at my side, during my first flight. Maybe then. . Maybe then. I keep saying maybe then. But maybe won’t fix anything. Especially not what happened in the past. I can barely remember what happened in the woods now. Everything just became a blur after the attack. I don’t know what happened to me. Maybe the rush of energy that exploded from me finally caught up.

The day I visited Blitz in the hospital, was one of the worst days ever. I stood there, I could see the blood soaked bandages. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, from his frail weak breath. He had a vase of fresh flowers beside him. I took out my sketchbook, and sat there in silence as I drew. The picture would never change. I looked into the weak aura that surrounded Blitz as I drew. The sketch would always show him laying there, eyes shut peacefully, as if he was asleep. But I knew it wasn’t sleep. In the picture, he had a single flower in his hoofs, and all the rest in the vase were wilted, and dead.

I think I had drawn about five sketches before I gave up. Some ponies say that not knowing if a loved one will pass away is a horrible feeling. Well, I now know that it is worse knowing that they will. I was only able to sit by his side, watching, waiting, for the dreaded moment. The moment that they are no longer in this world. I thought that, once the moment finally came, I would be able to smile down at him, and celebrate his life, instead of mourn his death.

But, the moment his funeral came around, I wasn’t able to sit there and smile. I cried. I cried for hours at his grave. I had cried until everypony left, and even more so,  until my sister decided it was best to drag me home. And, I still cried well into the night, until I finally passed out.

That was three years ago. And now, I am a week into high school. I’ve grown into a fine looking stallion. Or atleast I would think so. My wings are big, and strong. I have learned how to fly, but. . . But, it just isn’t as good as I thought it would’ve been. I thought it would be fun to feel free,as I soar above the clouds. I mean, I do like to fly. But, it just seems to be lacking something .maybe with out Blitz. . .

There’s a knock on my door, which breaks me out of my thought. I sigh, and step away from my mirror. I still have that ritual, though it is less out of fear now. I have no fear that I will look into the mirror, and see a monster staring back at me. It’s just an ingrained habit. In fact, I’m starting to think that I was never. . . One of them at all. That I was never a changeling. Maybe it was just a stupid dream that I kept having. I haven’t heard from Genesis at all, if he even exists. And, before he had seemed so determined to bring me back. I know that it’s just a long shot, to assume that I was never a changeling, but, it is better to believe, then live in fear. So, I take that belief in stride.

There’s a knock on my door, which breaks me out of my thought. I sigh, and step away from my mirror. “Yes?” I call out to my door, as I start walking towards it. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late.” I hear the sweet voice of my marefriend. “Jeez, can’t somepony be patient?” I call back, teasingly. “Just hurry up, Ink.” I laugh, and open the door. “Fine, let’s start walking then. Happy?” She shakes her head, and gives me a small kiss on the lips. “How about a fly?” I laugh, and lean down. “Hop on then, Spiral.”

I feel her slide onto my back, and gently wrap her forehooves around my neck. “You know, maybe I should’ve waited till we were outside.” I say, with a laugh. I feel her rub her cheek against the back of my neck. “To late Ink, you can carry me outside.” I let out a sigh, and roll my eyes. I take careful steps down the stairs, then out the front door. “Heading out now!” I call back into the house, to my sister. “Love you, have fun!” I hear her call back. I close the door, and take off into the sky instantly.

“This is always amazing!” I hear Spiral call out, through the rushing of the wind. I only smile, as I fly towards the center of town. “Not as amazing as you.” I call back to her. I hear her giggle. “Ahh, ain’t you so sweet.” She rubs the back of my head. We fly in silence. I find myself thinking back into the past again. About what happened to her. When she lost her memories. To be fair, she still hasn’t fully regained them. She remembers her brother, and mother well. Nothing about their father. I think because of the trauma. But, she’s fine with the way things are now.

And, to be honest, so am I. Before she was more mean, more assertive. Controlling. Now she’s sweet, and caring. Still assertive, but she isn’t mean about it. Sometimes I even fear that her memories will return, and she’ll go back to the way she was before. And, she would break up with me. But, it’s been three years, so I highly doubt it. But there is still a fear there. “You gonna land?”

I snap back into reality, and pull downwards, landing at the front doors of the school. “Hehe, sorry about that, just spaced out there. Thinking about you.”Technically, I’m not lying.  I give a sweet smile, and kiss her softly. She blushes, and I let out a small laugh. “Just hurry, and get to class, you sweet goofball.” She gives me a soft punch on the shoulder, and walks off. I watch her walk off. “What a cute couple.” I jump at the sudden voice from behind me.

“Gah. Artsy. Don’t scare me like that.” I say, as I turn around. There infront of me stands a beautiful mare, who used to be a very beautiful filly. And one of my best friends. I used to have a giant crush on her, but then me and Spiral got together. And, sure sometimes i wonder what could’ve happened between is. But, I can’t keep lamenting on the past like I have. I mean, we have talked about it before. A week after me and Spiral started dating, I noticed the normally cheerful Artsy, was depressed.

I asked her what was wrong, and she started complaining about Spiral, and how she wasn’t good for me. I knew she was jealous, and. . A part of me wanted to tell her that I loved her more than Spiral. but, I couldn’t do that to Spiral. But, Artsy got over her feelings, and moved on. She even promotes our relationship a lot. Always calling us cute, and perfect. “Sorry. couldn’t help it.” She sticks her tongue out at me, and points towards a small building. “We should be headed to art class.” I give a nod, and we walk off, enjoying the fresh, chilling, breeze.

“So, what have you been up to? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.” She giggles lightly. “We talked last night.’ She laughs a little more. I blush softly. “Oh yeah, we did.” I find it hard to talk to Artsy sometimes now. I still love her, I really do. My feelings for her haven’t diminished. But, I am not willing to hurt Spiral over feelings that i never acted on. So, I just let this awkwardness take place. “Well, what are you doing for the project?” I think for a moment, before I smack my hoof to my forehead. “Shit. I forgot all about the project. Please tell me it isn't due today.”

She gives me a grim look. “If I did, I would be lying.” I let out a groan. “Artsy, I need you to do me a big favor. . “ She shakes her head, holding up her hoov. “No. I’m not going to cheat for you. You brought this upon yourself.” I shake my head in turn. “No, I want you to smash my locker door till I’m unconscious.” I open my locker door, and rest my head on the frame. We stare at each other for a moment, before laughing. “Looks like I just have to go face the music.” I say in a sigh, as we continue towards the art room.

I kept my head down as we got closer, but I felt Artsy poke my with her hoof. “Look up.” I glance up, and smile wide. There, standing outside the door is Verity. Our old middle school principal and art teacher.  “Why, hello there you two.: She says with a large smile. “Glad to see you two are still art students.” We both nod. “Verity, why are you here?” We ask at the same time, both of us with goofy little grins.

“Your normal art teacher unfortunately couldn’t make it in today due to illness.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Didn’t finish your work?” I hear Verity say, and I let out a sigh. “Yes. I forgot to do a large project. And it was meant to be turned into today.” I hear Verity let out a disappointed sigh. “Oh Ink. You may be a good student, but you should be more diligent with your work. But, since school just started a week ago, I will let the class turn in their assignment when you real teacher returns. because I am sure you’re not the only who didn’t finish it.”

I smile, and shake her hoof vigorously. “Oh, thank you, Verity. I owe you one.” She shakes her head. “No, you owe me like five.” We all share a laugh, then me and artsy walk into the classroom. “That’s such a relief. And it’s good to see Verity again.” Artsy gives a happy nod, as we take our seats next to each other. I quickly reach into my bag, and start roughing out some sketches for project ideas. “Remember, the finished project has to be done on twelve by twelve inch canvas paper, and in full color.” I nod quickly, as I keep roughing out a couple sketched. “Was there a specific theme?” She laughs at me. “Should’ve taken notes.” I look up, and see her sticking her tongue out at me.

“No. It was free theme. You can choose. Why don’t you do a portrait of your marefriend?” My ears perk up. “Oh, that’s perfect. Thanks for the idea Artsy.” She smiles and nods. “No problem.” It is great having Verity teaching again. She knows how to teach a class in a way that makes it fun, but you still learn a lot. I wish she could be our permanent teacher. The art teacher in this high school, in complete honesty, is an ass. No offense to any donkeys, but seriously, dudes a complete jerk.

I turn to a completely clean page in my sketchbook. This isn't the same one from three years ago, of course. But, I always buy one that looks exactly the same. And I keep each one, in a small box under my bed. Except my original one, I keep that one on the top drawer of my night stand. Anyways, this is my eighteenth. I look at the blank page, and start thinking over all of Spiral features.   I think of her  lovely orange eyes. I think of her creamy brown fur. I think of her red mane, with orange highlights, and her long red tail, also with orange highlights. I try to sketch it out, but fail. I tear out that page, and crumple it up. This is where my drawing skills fail me.

Even though I have practiced forever, I still can’t draw a pony unless I’m looking at them. I can draw landscapes pretty well from memory. I can draw a tree. I can draw a bird. I can draw cats and dogs. But, ask me to draw a pony, I won’t be able to unless I’m looking at them. Though, I can draw myself without having to look at me. And I’m glad. Because, if I look into a mirror, and draw myself, I only draw a monster. And, I hate that. When I look at a pony and draw them I can see a glow, an aura.

This is my talent. I can look into a pony, and draw their hidden feelings. Feelings that they may or may not be aware of. Feelings that they have hidden from others and themselves. Like when I drew Spiral and Spinner. They both seemed so confident, and strong. But on the inside, they were just fearful and weak. But, my talent has a second part. I can draw possible futures. Like, when I would draw Blitz. I would always end up drawing him. . . . Drawing him dead. I’ve experimented with this ability a little in these past three years. I can only draw events that are in the immediate future. And, if I try hard enough after drawing it, I can possibly change that future.

Though, the only way to know if I’ve changed the course of time, is to draw the pony again, and see if it comes out different. And both of those abilities makes me hate to draw myself when I look into a mirror. I always draw a changeling, a monster, in the mirror, looking back at me. And I know that’s what I’m hiding inside, but. . . But I can’t tell if that will be in my future. No matter how much I tell myself that I am not a changeling anymore, and that I will never be one again, I always end up looking at that monster in the mirror.

I close my sketchbook, and sit there for the rest of the class. Just listening to Verity talk about art, and it’s limitless ability. About how it can capture event for everypony to see. About how it can bring about emotions, and change the way some ponies think. She practically lives by the saying a picture is worth a thousand words. though, she claims that it’s more like a million. “Ink, care to show the class the ability of portraits. It doesn't have to be a cull portrait, one of your sketches will work perfectly.”

Verity always had this habit of picking who she thinks is the most talented to give demonstration to the class. I let out a sigh, as I stand up, and grab my sketchbook. “OK, Verity. Who should I draw?” She points to Artsy. “How about your marefriend Virtuoso. I blush hard, and shake my head frantically as the class snickers about. “What? Oh, no. Artsy isn’t my marefriend. She’s just a friend. Spiral is my marefriend.” I stammer out to Verity, who actually looks surprised. “Oh, and I thought you two would be so perfect together.”

After the class gets their laughs in, I sit in front of Artsy, who gives me smile. I sit there and look at her for a moment. I shake my head, and walk to the other side of her, so the window is behind her. I give a nod, and pick up my trusty old inkwell pen. My sister gave it to my the day after I got my cutie mark. I use it in all my sketch now practically.

I watch as that familiar shimmer comes around Artsy, when i start sketching her out. I focus in on that arua, as my eyes skim around every bit of Artsy. From the small details of the light shimmer in her blond mane. To the more intimate details of the shape of her body. I can feel her most shown emotions flow through me. from her boundless happiness, to her more caring motherly like nature for her friends. But, as I draw more, i start to feel her more deeper emotions. Ones that she hides. A deep feeling of regret and sorrow, for love never acted upon. Love for me. But, there is also a deep hidden feeling of heartache at a broken family. Of a brother that she loves, that was cast away. Of parents that fight constantly about her future. . . Her future.

Before I can draw any more and show what future has in store for Artsy soon, Verity calls out. “Ok, Ink. Before class ends now.” The class laughs slightly, and I put down my pen. My sketch is of Artsy just sitting there, no surroundings save for the single window behind her. I wasn’t able to draw more than that. I look up at Artsy, and see her sitting there still, smiling as always. But when I look down at the drawing again, there she sits with a frown. I had drawn her once before, and even though she was smiling brightly then, I could only draw her with a frown. Verity pick up my my sketchbook, and shows the picture around the class.

“See, you need a great attention to detail to draw a portrait well. You can’t just look and draw. He was concentrated when he drew her. He payed attention to the how the light was, and the shade. He payed attention to how her mane was as well. Perfect, in my opinion.” She hands my sketchbook back, and concludes class. I slide my stuff back into my bag, and walk out of the room quickly. Artsy soon catches up with me though. “Is something wrong?” I shake my head, as I look at her. “Why are you always sad?” I ask without thinking. “What do you mean ‘always sad’? I’m pretty sure I am the exact opposite.” She laughs at my offhoof comment.

I shake my head. “Artsy. What do you think my talent is? What do you think my cutie mark represents?” I ask a simple question. “Well, it shows your amazing talent at drawing. Duh.” She laughs a bit more. “That’s only half the answer. You know as well as I do a cutie mark never shows a ponies exact talent. Just a generalized version of it.” She nods slowly. “Ok, what is your exact talent then?” I look around the nearly empty hallway, and glance towards the clock on the wall. five minutes left till next class. I let out a sigh, and take a deep breath.

“My real talent, is when I draw a pony, I can draw their feelings, their emotions. Ones that they have deep down. Ones that they may not know themselves.” I explain, and decide to leave out the second part. The first part sounds farfetched enough as it is, me being a pegasus. A talent like mine would require a normal pony some form of magic. Magic that only unicorns can use. Magic that a changeling can use as well. The first part of my talents, even though it seems farfetched, is very possible. The second part of my talent would be too suspicious though. And, I've never told anypony my talent, for fear that they would find out the monster that I am. but, I trust Artsy enough. And since I care for her, I want to know her sadness, in words that only she can tell.

I pull out my sketchbook, and turn to her picture. “I drew you once before, back in middle school. And, I had drawn you with a frown then.” I show the picture that I had just drawn minutes ago. “And I drew you again today, with a frown. So, tell me. Why are you so sad?” I already know most of the answer, but, I need to hear it from her. “That’s. . That’s amazing. You’re more talented than I thought.” She says jokingly, obviously avoiding my question. “Artsy. You’re my best friend. Please, if there is something wrong I want to be able to help.” She shakes her head. “If that is your talent, and that is what you can do. Then this isn’t something you can help with, Ink. Just leave it alone.” She drops her usual smile, showing me that frown. A similiar to the one that I drew. The bell rings, and we just walk our separate ways.