Author's Note
This OC is named Passion Blaze, an earth-pony colt with a light brown coat, a very long black mane that disappears into the hood of his red jacket. I couldn't get any artwork uploaded, so that's what this is here for. If anyone makes one that'd be great. He is a writer and this story is basically his experience being "Discorded".
This fic was originally to be put up somewhere else, but after a little thought this would be a more appropiate place. This fic is a little more "artsy" than some other fics without being too cryptic. So here it is: the fic that was, and is again.
Discordant Whisper
Today my mind is blocked. I sit begging for the words to come to me and guide my pen into filling the blank paper in front of me with a world. I'm responded with dead silence.
I get up from where I sat. I pace, seemingly endlessly searching for the words. Finding none, I began to be filled with a dismay that turned me gray. I was stuck with this blankness for days now trying so hard to come up with the next story that could top something the revered Daring Do has wrote recently. Though, how much longer must I go on restricted from writing, I didn't know. "Maybe forever..." was said by a discordant whisper in my ear. I hardly even noticed the odd sound of a tail scraping across the oak floor of my house along with the hoof and footprints fading away, followed by a deep chuckle. My hood became tight. I felt like all of the color just drain from my body.
In a sort of primal response, I grabbed my pen, papers, and a pad, not hesitating to go outside immediately. I looked around for anything that would act as a spark to ignite the author's soul within me, everypony becoming less and less important. My cutie mark after all is a pen. Writing is my talent and my reason. At this point, the pen on my flank was becoming close to meaningless, as well as I.
Suddenly the thought came to me : Food. That'd be something to help. Maybe a tantilizing pastry. Yes. White frosting - a lustrious smooth white like heavens' cloud upon creamy, fluffy cake. Why end there? There'd be an island of the delicious, soothing deserts all looking so great with their enticing forms that transcends the bounds of average imagination. Also, I was hungry.
I walked into Sugarcube Corner. This bakery stood out from any other in Equestria as it was bursting with so many bright colors and decoractions that looked more appropiate for a foal's birthday party. The warm, inviting scent of batter was doing little to calm me. If I lose this talent of mine, writing, a spark of the divine I've been blessed with, life would become so hollow. Oh, how blank that sweet smell would be then. With my bits already pulled out, I briskly approached the counter to buy a cupcake. The baker with the cotton candy mane, looked at me with a brief concern, but swiftly laughed and complied, possibly thinking I was trying to put on some sort of act or some sort of a joke. I handed her the bits.
I was jealous of her. How dare she laugh and smile while I am in a crisis? I hated that smile that shone so brightly.
I thanked her coldly. She was very nonchalant about it. I took the desert from her looking upon her with a sharp malice. I proceeded to enjoy it outside. Finding a bench outside not far at all, I sat down and dove in. The cupcake was an explosion of sweet flavor. The cream and sugar had a tranquilizing effect soothing all of the fibers in my legs, made my spine into a noodle, my ears drop, and made me shrudder in ecstasy. I suddenly hated that baker mare less.
After that first bite, I closed my eyes and entered my mind. I searched for those words to break the burning chain around my neck, but to no success. I brought myself back to the world. I took several more, rushed bites of the pastry to try to get a spark, but nothing came, and I was left with a circular paper filled with nothing, but a mass of crumbs and specks of frosting. I began to hate the baker again… I licked my hooves, then the wrapper before I threw it behind me, running off in no direction at all through Ponyville. Celestia dragged the sun closer and closer to the horizon.
This block was killing me. I felt the earth beneath me split open. Fire shot out and I felt hot. I gripped my pen and papers harder. It was as if the changelings were attacking again. I felt as if I had lost myself already. I felt so hollow. What was I to do? Why is nopony helping me at all? I hadn't even notice my hood had flown right off my head in the haste, letting my wild dark mane go where it pleased. I quickly snapped my hood back on.
As I galloped on forward, I passed on by a familiar face, whatever the unicorn with the green mane's name was. "What's wrong?" I heard as I moved on. How is this mare going to waste my time in such a moment of disaster, I'll never know. Maybe she wanted to hinder my pursuit… Yeah, that was it. That look she gave me like I was being unreasonable was all the more insulting. I felt my pen grow hot in my grasp.
After some time had past, I found myself in the lustrious park a few miles away from the Everfree where the soothing song of strings that filled the air reached my ears as I came onto a hill. Each note gently swung me back and forth… back and forth… It was so undescribable how calming that song was that Octavia had, no doubt, endlessly practiced. I could easily imagine how Canterlot's elites would pay so much or travel so far to hear it. All through the song, Octavia was somewhere else.
As panic's rush left me, I laid down. This had to be where I'd find the spark I've been looking for - on the hill where the cello's sweet song was acting as soothing cool water that washed away the heat in my body. My thoughts should move and form much faster in a state like this, so I had adjusted myself on the plush grass, eyes closed, praying for the words that could save my life and calm the world. I seemed to had stayed motionless, almost dead, for hours waiting. Eventually, I came to the revelation that I'm waiting for nothing. My soul was gray and the world was dead.
I just groaned and just wanted to lay there in the nothingness forever, with no light, no purpose… All that I did was let the cello music do what it could to ease me.
"Hey there, what's with you?" I heard shatter the silence. It was my friend, Octavia, who had stopped her playing to come down from the hill to see me there broken.
I relayed the story of my devastation. Each word I spoke, painful as I practically relived all of my strife. As I carried on, she began to look more and more confused, rather than concerned. At the end of my story I asked what was on her mind that had her acting so unnaturally. She pointed her hoof to the paper I held at my side.
I just realized my hood was off. I was completely surprised to see that my papers had been filled up from side to side. It was all done by… me. I couldn't believe my pen has been doing this. I felt the world stabilize again. I felt the little flame burning in me again. I was completely taken back and apparently my face showed it.
I got up and thanked my friend starting off for home.
"Uh… you're welcome…" she replied. "What now?"
"I'm just going to proofread this… See ya'." I said trotting along.
And at that, I felt my color return.
