A Quiet Cabin On The Edge Of The Everfree

I woke up to a soft tapping. My eyes shot open, revealing a surly man with a gun across his shoulder. "...Okay...awake, now perhaps you tell me why you are here."

I jumped upright, nearly flying out of the bed. "Whoa, wait wait wait!" I threw my hand out, my saner mind screaming for me to run. "Put the gun down!"

The man slid the gun behind his neck, pulling it against himself with his wrists. "I think it would be a good idea to explain why it is you are in my house. Now." The man stated, his finger squeezing around the trigger guard. "...Is for your little friend, yes? The moth girl?"

I felt my breath catch in my throat, my focus shifting from myself to her in a second. "How the fuck do you know her?"

The man rolled his eyes. "How do I know anyone? I meet them, I talk to them, I listen." He pulled his gun around and unloaded two shells. "Henry, I take it. The social retard." He stated, extending a hand. "Your mentally damaged friend dropped you on my porch, Rouge let you in. I tell her no, better you go home, but she says is good time to explain some things."

I fell back into the bed. "...Let me guess, you're her new--"

"Fear, let us talk of fear." He stated, setting the gun aside and pulling over a chair. "We are...two humans, in a land we don't belong." He sat backwards, facing me with the back of the chair. "But, we do not fear most things. I don't think you fear me now." He stated, pointing at me, his finger bobbing agianst the back of the chair. "But she says to me, he is afraid to come. And I say, is his fear more powerful than his love?"

"Shut up!" I snapped, "It's not like that--"

"And she says to me, ...I don't know. He wished he could. Then I say again, but he fears everything more than he loves you. And she went quiet." The Frenchman's words dug into my chest. "But now you are here, too late perhaps, but...how they say, A for effort."

"Too late!?" I snapped, "How the fuck am I too late!?" I threw my legs out of the bed, turning to face the man. "You better make sense or--"

"Anger." He stated, standing up and walking over to me. "You live in a wonderland, with the kindest creatures ever conceived, and greater than your fear, greater than your love, your anger is the strongest emotion you have." He laughed, that peculiar mocking French laugh. "...I took your friend's virginity." He stated in such a dry tone, such a emotionless, flavorless tone I believe him.

I felt my anger boil over. Betrayal, anger, rage, shame, hate, all rose up and threatened to explode out my gut. "You mother fucker!" I shouted, haphazardly throwing my fist at him, nailing his shoulder and making him step back a bit.

The Frenchman took a step back, quickly brushing off his vest. "...Hmm, well...I suppose maybe there is hope for you yet. I mean, if you feel that strongly about it, there's some drive left." He stepped back up to me. "The first thing you do is not to ask where you are, who I am, what day or time, but to get in a fight over someone you left behind. Brave...very, very stupid, but brave."

I rubbed my hand, my sloppy punch hurting me just as much as him. "What the hell are you even talking about?"

The French let out a soft laugh. "I'm married, and your friend is still a virgin girl." He pointed to the bed. "Lie down, I have some things to talk to you over."

I rubbed my knuckles, looking back to the bed. "How about you tell me where Rouge is first."

The French laughed, "I make a joke about your little friend's virginity and all the sudden you're Mr. Pissed Off. Good lord...you were crying like a baby when you got here, now you're swearing and cursing me like I screwed your mother." He turned the chair around and sat down. "I am Jan, my wife is Saint, this is Prance and your mare is at a coffee shop. Any other questions?"

I looked around, taking a deep breath and defusing my anger. "...I- I don't know...."

Jan shook his head. "You know, people don't like those who are indecisive. If you don't know, figure out, be definitive, take charge. I know for the depressed masses such as you it would seem impossible, but it is your choice to make it so."

"It's not that--"

"Don't tell me it's not easy." Jan shot back, pointing to the window, "I have not lived an easy life, but I have made choices to better it."

I looked towards the window, slowly getting up and peeking past the curtains. I could see a mare bounding through the snow in a fall field fenced in my a short wall. But behind her a pony faced creature bounded after her. A satyr, an anomaly with a human body and pony head, was running after her, giggling like mad. "...What the fuck?" I asked, "What is that thing?"

Jan laughed. "That thing is my son. Poor boy was cursed from birth."

I looked back out the window, marveling at the unsettling creature. "H-how?"

Jan shook his head. "I don't know. Should come out normal, but should is a very finicky word. At any rate...is why I brought your mare to Prance, is why I didn't throw you out. I feel for the odd, the outcast. Is a curse you know...."

I rubbed my mouth, turning away from the window. "So...what, you--"

"I give anyone a chance, no exceptions." He nodded curtly. "You and your mare, no exception. But, I expect something from you, and I expect an answer now. Are you worth the effort?" He asked blandly, "Because I need to know if I should bother, or give your place to another."

"I- what do you mean?"

Jan shook his head. "I mean, you are social retard, this is known. But what is not known is why, how long, or what can be done. But I need to know if you're willing to change. I need to know if you have the want, the capacity, the drive to change. I need to know if you care more about her than you fear...whatever it is you fear." He shook his head again. "Though...it is apparent you don't. And you are fit to let others lead your life for you...but that doesn't mean you lack the ability."

I rubbed my forehead. "It's not like I chose--"

"You chose everything in your life, or, you chose not to chose." Jan put his hand on my shoulder, leading me towards the door out of the room. "You chose to let fear rule your life, you chose to let fear be more powerful than love, it is all an active choice. Maybe a difficult choice, maybe painful and tiring, but a choice regardless. I suppose you're here by choice though...a passive choice, the choice of a man afraid to chose for himself."

I started to feel a soft burning in my stomach. "I asked for help okay!"

"No...from what your little dragon friend said, you whined until she couldn't take anymore and she dropped you like a sack of spuds on my porch." Jan pulled at the shorthairs on his chin. "You complained until someone made the choice for you."

I locked up, unable to really refute him, but still angry enough to belittle him. "You know I don't need my life critiqued by some- some weird little man with a fucked up son!"

Jan nodded, rubbing my back. "True, I am a strange man with a stranger son. But perhaps a strange man with more of a life than you. A man who has made an active choice to be happy. And...friend, if I may call you that, happiness is the end goal. Some may be fit to live in sadness and regret, leading passive lives and surviving, but I don't make time for those. I make time for those willing to take control, to overcome, to grow. If you wanted help, ask for it, seek it, but don't expect it to be dropped at your feet just because you complain."

"You know what, fuck you! I've been depressed for so god damn long I can't--"

"Then why are you complaining now? Why not complain sooner? Depression is no excuse for living passively," He lead me out of the plain white guest room and into a warm beige hall. "Your friend, your mare, made a choice to change. She invited you, but you chose to stay in your little home. And when you saw regret, you chose to complain and whine until someone forced you to do something."

"I- No I- That's not fair!" I shouted, quickly losing all control of the argument. "I wanted to go with her! I just- I break down in public, I can--"

"So have many others." Jan stated, cutting me off at every opportunity. "You think you are special? I tell this to pony, the satyr, to man, I say, you make a choice to be special. Being special isn't something given, it's something earned. Now please...stop making excuses, and cut out...how you say...cut out the middle men, and make your own choices."

"...God I hate you." I muttered, looking around the dull beige walls.

"That is a choice. And in honest it's a better choice than despair. But...perhaps learn to love more than hate. Hmm, maybe learn to hate more than to fear, then to love more than hate. Hmm, things to think of in a shower, no?" Jan hurried down the hall and past a flight of stairs. "Basement," he pointed down the flight. "Hobby rooms and such." He pointed to the opposite side of the stairs, a path upward. "And...your friend is staying in the room we just came from."

I let out a tired groan. "You know...you barely know me...you don't know me. Why bother helping--"

"Because, what else am I to do?" Jan spun around, walking up to my and planting his hand against my chest. "This...this is opportunity. The dead don't chose, the hopeless don't chose, the thinking, the bright, the hopeful chose. And while perhaps a whiny, self deprecating and half assed choice, you did make a choice to give that dumb little dragon girl the right address, so...hope, however small." Jan brushed off my jacket. "Now...go wait for your friend. Maybe we start fixing you soon."

Jan turned on his heel, hurrying towards the door outside. "Oh, and welcome to Prance. The ponies are rude, the wine is expensive, and the fields are rolling."

I stood in the hall, scratching my head lightly. "...Hell of a welcome...."