The fight for Equestria

The sound of his stomach rumbling, drew his attention from the sky. The sound was quickly followed by a momentary empty feeling, before the wretched pain began twisting in his gut, forcing him to nearly fall over. Eyes screwed shut tightly, he gritted his teeth and placed a hoof over his abdomen while waiting for it to pass. This pain was coming more frequently than it did before when it had been hours, it now felt like every few minutes.

The sweltering heat of the sun in the desert sapped more and more of his strength as he tried to push on, he was starting to believe he would die in no time. The last of the water he had, he had already drank due to his thirst in the heat. That was in fact earlier that morning the last few ounces had been swallowed. The feeling of it still being cool to his mouth had long since vanished leaving him to think it may be what was causing him to be thirstier.

He licked his lips, trying to wet his mouth, only to find his tongue as nothing more than a dry parchment rubbing against already dry and cracked lips. He tried swallowing only for his throat to constrict causing an unnatural feeling to force his to cough. When he finished, and was able to draw a breath, his could hear the hoarseness of his voice, as his lungs sucked in air that was even hotter than before.

It had only been a week now since he awoke in the Everfree forest, to a painful headache where he found a newly grown horn. The whole day his head hurt as he made his way through the underbrush, he had found a small stream before he came across the edge of the forest and found dried blood on his brow from where the horn had forced its way through. He took his fill of the water, and rested more until the pain began to ease. He wanted to be through the forest and find someplace he could hide, but in his state he did not trust himself to fly, nor was he certain flying would be a good idea as he was clueless to the effect of the whether the sisters were still searching for him or not. He decided the pain in his head was excuse enough to keep from taking a risk and so, he continued on with his own four legs.

At one point, a pack of timberwolves had thought to take on what they, at the time, perceived to be easy prey. They surrounded him, and attempted to take him down, a couple charging in at once. He did his best to fend them off, but one got a lucky bite on a hind leg. The pain blinded him as its sharp splinter-like teeth dug into his flesh. The pain urged him in an act of desperation, as he drew in what power and magic he could and began shooting at them. He got a few caught and as they were hit, they were engulfed in flame. The rest of the pack made a quick escape, leaving an overly enraged Blackheart to stand howling a bestial roar at their fleeting backs, the flames of those that had been caught rising to the sky in a fury of red, and green fire.

A day of walking through the desert after that he came across a small town of ponies. He caught the name was Appleloosa, and there were quite a few hard looking ponies. But this was not the place that would welcome him, if he were to guess right. He went in and picked up bites of food and drink when and where he could in the cover of night. He had even found a container to hold more water, and quickly filled it. The next day as he was keeping an eye out for any trouble and another easy target he caught site of a pony stallion that immediately had his attention.

It was far different than the others, in only the fact that it held an aura, something none of the others had as far as he could see through his eyes. He watched, intrigued, as it went among all the other ponies, of whom he deduced could not see this aura and were completely blind to it. He waited, finding water in a small pool under a large stone formation, he wanted to see if he could keep an eye on this pony the next day. He settled to the North of the town and laid down to rest, not even aware of the hunger that had already begun.

As he laid there, closing his eyes, he heard a strange buzzing sound and went to investigate. There, flying through the sky was the pony he had seen, leaving a trail of black and green aura. He immediately followed, wanting to know more.

All his troubles, led him to this moment; this moment, of holding onto a sliver of his life as his mind brought forth a picture of his newly attained body a shriveled husk in the ever baking sun.

He glanced to the sky once more, seeing that the trail was now beginning to thin, he had reached the point that it was fading. Strange as it had seemed to have held strong thus far, to now suddenly begin to waver. He figured it was because it had gone much further than he had thought, since it could fly. His mind cleared for just a moment to wonder how it could have flown when he had not seen a single pair of wings on it.

As his eyes lowered, he squinted into the distance, unsure if he was truly seeing what his eyes were telling him. In the distance, as the heat rose up from the sand and scattered red stones, like waves rippling through water he saw a tall formation of stone monoliths towering. Darkness at the base surrounded them, giving him the fleeting hope of shade, and shelter from this horrible ordeal.

Closing his eyes, Blackheart struggled to find just a little more strength in him and placed a hoof forward, sinking slightly into the soft sand. Another, then his hind legs, he could feel his body ready to give out.

“Just a little further.” He told himself. Another step, and another, the sight before him of the world seemed to tilt. At the impact of his head hitting the ground, his face embraced by the sand, as if welcoming its next victim, did he realize that he had collapsed.

He struggled, grunting in his effort, as he attempted to stand again, finding his limbs weak and unwilling to respond in his effort. Grains of sand blew out away from his face as his breath exhaled. Once more, his stomach rumbled, the twisting sharp pain once more held him in its grasp as his body curled in on itself. It eased, but this was the longest stretch of the pain he was having to endure. It left him lightheaded, and feeling his consciousness fading.

As his eyes closed, he once again heard the strange buzzing sound overhead of him that he had encountered previously. He wanted to look to see what it was, but all he was able to do was just crack one eye open, and was greeted by the glaring light of the sun.

Before his eye closed, to show a large round replica of the golden orb high in the sky, did he barely notice a black speck coming straight toward him.

He did not know how long he had been unconscious, but he could tell his surroundings had changed as he came round. It was not as dark as he had expected, which could very well mean that it was night, yet the strange coldness that surrounded his body now was not the same as the coldness of the desert night he had already experienced. This was different, and he relished in it, drawing it in as he drew in the cold air into his lungs through his nose. There was a strange scent as he did this, that his nose could not register.

He could hear something in the distance, buzzing, yet, it also felt as if it were on a larger scale, as if whatever was making the sound came from a multitude rather than a single entity. He could also faintly feel vibrations in the ground beneath him, as he turned his attention to the rest of his body. He also realized that it was not the same, whereas the ground of the desert was un-level, sand that only altered as the weight of ones body rested against it, this was a completely different feeling.

Beneath him, as he tried to move as subtly as possible by focusing his mind and moving various muscles in his body as it laid against the ground, he could tell it was flat, smooth, and colder than the air around him. It was no easy feat, as he moved one of his legs more than he had meant to, and so worked to make it seem as if he only momentarily stirred in his sleep. He tried to make his body relax, and steady his breathing, he could not tell if anything else was nearby, but there had to have been since he was someplace different.

“It would be better for you to remain on the floor, fool. We have already been given permission that if you show hostility, we are to kill, and without question. We have found ourselves without entertainment, until you were found, please, test me, and I will be sure to find enjoyment in torturing you first.” Came a strange voice from nearby.

The voice had been male, yet high pitched and held a notable strain, as if it were trying to force out the words in some way that did not work like other ponies.

Blackheart did not attempt to move again, and just laid there, relishing in the cold. At some point he lost consciousness again, but it was no longer against his will. He could tell he was still exhausted from his endeavor to follow the trail that pony had left behind. So he gave in, hoping to regain more of his strength, yet he knew otherwise; If he could not find some sort of food, then who or whatever had just spoken of visiting death upon him would lose that chance.

He was not sure how long he had slumbered this time, but he was not happy when something hard impacted hard into his side, jarring him awake.

He turned to look at his surroundings, most of which was blocked by the sight of a strange creature before him. It held a pony shape, but that appeared to be where the similarities ended, and the differences were ten fold. It was almost half his own height, its body made from what appeared to be a hard shiny black carapace body, a dark blue shell like cover on its back, which was slightly lifted with translucent silken wings sticking out from underneath. Its legs were wide at the hoof, and held several random holes, though for the most part, looked more as if large bites had been taken out of its legs, the mane and tail seemed more like membranes sticking out. On the fore front of the head was a small, black, curved horn, its ears resembled its own legs, looking as if something had taken bites out of it. Its eyes were a blue-green color, and the end of its muzzle, where its mouth was, was a set of viciously sharp teeth.

As for the rest of the, room, if that was what it was, was covered all around in a strange dried green ichor, closing in walls and ceiling.

The creature before growled and thrust its foreleg against Blackhearts side once more, eliciting a bark of pain.

“Rise, lowly filth, and plead your life to our queen for mercy.” The creature hissed out.

“I’d sooner ask what chewed you up and spat you out. You look more like a disgusting insect to stamp beneath my hoof.”

No sooner had he spoken, than the creature before him struck him once more before lowering itself and hissed, ready to jump at Blackheart.

“Nearix, halt your foolishness.” Came a strange two-toned voice. It certainly sounded feminine enough, and Blackheart looked past the creature before it to spy a larger, more detailed version of this smaller one.

The way she, for he could only assume this was the queen the creature had spoken of, appeared in similar fashion. A black carapace body, holes in its legs, the shell on its back where the wings protruded from was green, the mane and tail a light shade of blue, the horn upon the fore of her head was larger and strangely crooked, and upon the top of her crown were several antaenae like protrusion which were topped with small orbs. The length of her proportions were far larger than the smaller bug, almost, twice his own height, her legs were longer, as were her wings, which were held almost straight up, her eyes somehow an entrancing dark green iris, surrounded by a lighter shade of green. Her pupils were black slits, and her mane, upon further study looked more like long blue webbing that had been deftly place upon her head. However, he did notice that there were cracks all along her body, in various places, though they seemed to have been healing for some time.

As he stared at her, he realized she held herself with an air of nobility. One of her brows, if that was what the slight bulge was over her eyes seemed to lift, almost as if in proof of what it only could be.

“So, what are you? How did you come so close to our hive, and why should I keep you alive?” She spat the questions in rapid succession.

“I spotted a strange pony that had an aura about it. I thought it strange I could see it, but no other of those ponies could. That night I heard it flying off, where it left a trail that was similar to its aura. I followed.” Blackheart explained.

“Despite how it sounds, and how much I do not believe you, I cannot argue that you got as close to our hive as you did. Another dozen yards and you would have been at our entrance. I would say that is impressive, but considering one of my drones found you near to death from thirst and hunger, you must be just a fool. A fool who more than likely just stumbled across us. I do not want the ponies to know of us, or Celestia to know we have already returned.” With that, she turned to the creature she called Nearix, and with an almost imperceptible nod of her head, seemed to have signaled him.

Nearix let out a dark laugh as he turned his attention back to Blackheart, where it found a horn quickly thrust through its chest. A strange foul smelling thick liquid began to ooze from the wound, and down along Blackhearts horn. He shook his head and shed the weight of the Nearix’s dead body.

The queen let out a dissatisfied grunt and rolled her eyes. She then turned to another one of the creatures nearby, that Blackheart had not seen.

“Kill him, and please do not be as foolish as Nearix.” She commanded, calmly.

The creature smiled and launched itself, its wings working furiously to keep it airborne. The buzzing sound which emitted from its wings clued Blackheart as to what had been making that noise, so the fact there were so many that made the very ground and air buzz and vibrate assured him, this would be a difficult fight for him.

He quickly gathered up a bit of his stored magic and focused it into his horn, when the creature was closer he blasted it with a wide burst of magic. It only succeeded in knocking the creature back a few feet, but it was able to maintain itself in the air. There was nothing to show for damage against its body.

“Obviously I seem to have forgotten my fly swatter.” The creature launched itself at Blackheart once again, with a shrill shriek that was certainly insect like. He focused once more, and was able to find the air about him quickly becoming charged with the power. He waited until it was upon him, and just before it struck, he released the pent up magic and shot a bolt of raw energy, searing its b;ack carapace body, leaving a deep wound.

The force threw it back so hard that it slammed into the queen, who screamed in fury as she hit against the strange wall surrounding them and continued through.

Blackheart stood, unsteadily and slowly made his way to the hole in the wall. Below he could see a massive chamber with hundreds, perhaps even thousands of the creatures like the two he had already disposed of. Many had halted in whatever they were doing, as their queen was blown through the wall, the fury of her scream filling the air even over the incessant buzzing.

She halted her trajectory in midair and threw off the dead carcass, letting its lifeless form fall heavily to the ground far below, with a large and disgusting splat.

“YOU. WILL. PAY!” She screamed with all the rage she could muster, her horn glowing green as she flew towards him.

Blackheart spread his wings wide and jumped out into the empty air, allowing his body to be the weight, and his wings fully extended to catch the air and allow a more controlled descent than an immediate free fall. It was then that he had realized he was not suffering from the hunger pains he had before. He was not sure when or how he had gotten food into his body, but the smile that spread wide across his muzzle was the only thing that revealed his intent now.

Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings was beyond furious, never had a single pony such as this one ever defeated any of her brood so quickly as if they were frail newborn foals. This to her, was now no longer a matter of killing off a single pony to keep their secret hive from the rest of the world, it was now a matter of personal interest in bringing this pony down and show him her power.

She was surprised to see him with a horn, and wings, as he leaped into the empty air from the cell they had constructed quickly around him, but there was no way he could have power that matched Celestia’s, or hers. She would see to it, this pony never saw the light of day again.

Before the changeling drones, and soldiers, their queen and the strange pony fought in the air, hooves striking at one another, teeth biting, seeking something to latch onto, horns glowing and striking at one another, or bouncing off of shields if they were separated. There came a commotion among the hive, each changeling yelling out to support the power of their queen. None were sure how to help their queen, except to give her and her opponent a wide berth until an opening presented itself.

Blackheart was quick to find out what his weaknesses were in this match, he was already tired and weakened from his trek through the desert, even though he was not as out of it as he was when they had first found him, he still was nowhere near full strength. Because he had not used any of his magic since his attempt to leave the Everfree forest, it felt as if he were filled with it, and these few shots at this queen barely felt as if it were draining his reserve. He could tell, though, it was already making him burn through his recently collected strength. On top of that, using his wings in this place, in enemy territory, strained his body even further, tiring him faster. Which was noticeable as when he and the queen separated at one point, and the two combatants could tell he had lost some air.

The queen, on the other hand, despite her obvious wounds from however long ago, was quicker with her wings able to move about just like an insect whether up, down, forward, back, or in any other way she needed to dodge and attempt a different approach for an attack, which kept Blackheart on edge.

Blackheart began to strain as he attempted to maintain his height. His form lowered several feet, before he was able to level himself. He looked up as the queen slowly circled him, like a vulture that could sense a meal from a prey. The smile on her face, if he could really call it a face, showed her sharp teeth. She began to laugh as he dropped once again, the buzzing of the drones about him sounding louder as they all started to slowly close in.

Nothing to do, but to bring her down to his level. If he could just gather enough power to affect her, and it would have to be in a way so that she could not dodge it. He watched her, allowing his mind to focus, that one blast of energy had done quite a bit to a drone, if he could muster a bit more strength, then perhaps he could hurt her enough to affect her.

“Whats the matter? Has the moth that’s flown into the spiders web lost its strength? You know, in Nature, the more an insect struggles while caught in a spiders web, the more it entangles itself.” The drones, which had been slowly closing in the space, all began to close faster, some closer to Blackheart than others seemed especially eager to have their chance at him.

The best way, he thought, was to expand this kind of power, so that there was less chance for her to avoid its path. It may even help by taking some of the others. He had to play this right, or else it would be pointless, and she would have this.

Blackheart slowed his flapping, allowing himself to descend slowly, drawing them all in further. It wasn’t difficult, his body seemed almost relieved to be easing off its strain. As he neared the ground, which seemed to be a mix of stone and more of that green ichor, the drones closed in. The queen seemed content to allow herself to fall back as her drones closed in on their prey.

“I may be tiring, but I know you are as bad off as I am, otherwise you would finish me, rather than allow your lowly drones to finish your job. How sad it must be to fail at showing your strength and power in front of your minions.” His goading worked, as again the queen moved forward, in front of her drones and signaled them to remain as she drew herself closer.

Her eyes seemed to take him in, the slowing of his wings, the sweat on his brow, his labored breathing. He was almost to the ground as she watched him, taking time to allow his strength to fade even more.

“You are fortunate to have been able to stand up to me. In the past, only Celestia had been my equal, and I had even once beaten her. You have no more strength left, I doubt you even have any magic left either. I must say I was at first interested in you, since I could not sense the normal things within you, as I do in other ponies.”

Her words done, she watched him as he settled onto the ground below her. She felt she was well out of his reach, more so considering his wings fell heavily at his sides, to worn out to even be able to fold up like a normal pony with wings. His eyes remained locked on hers as he stared up at her.

The queen offered a smile, as she looked down upon him, a feeling of superiority swelling within her. This was it, she seemed done with him, and turned her back on him.

The very moment she turned, the drones began their descent upon him, as well a discharge of blue white light emitted from Blackheart. It flew, spreading out as if it were a net, a crackling sound filled the air all around. The queen halted hearing the noise, and began to turn; The nearest drones, hooves before them, saw the threat to their queen too late to put themselves between her and the danger before them.

A shriek from the queen, followed by dozens of shrills of other voices joining in as so many were hit by the energy Blackheart sent out at them, with her in its center.

Several black smoking carcass’ hit the ground hard, all followed by the queen landing among them.

Blackheart and the drones still left waited to see what was to be of the fallen queen. After a few minutes they all witnessed, much to Blackhearts distress, a movement of a singe black body, with blue web like hair, and large crooked horn. Smoke still rose from her body as she lifted herself from the pile of drones, and dragged herself over them to reach the ground. Her wings were heavily damaged, nearly burnt completely off, a large crack down her back, with several smaller cracks running down her sides.

“I have never felt pain, such as that since I was defeated at the wedding.” Her eyes held a smoldering look, directed wholly at the black stallion before her, who stood as coolly as he could. It was not the look that bothered him in the least, he was still trying to find a little bit of strength for his body, as well as the feeling that was now lacking in his wings which still hung limply at his sides rather than folded.

With a scream, she launched herself into a full run, her horn glowing a dark green color, seeming to extend in a straight point. Blackheart likewise lit his horn in a similar fashion, his glowing a deep dark purple as he too charged at the queen.

They clashed in the center of their ring of changeling drones, the impact of their magic sending out sparks, and flashing light that reflected off the surrounding bodies.

The glowing horns, one green, one purple struck again and again as the two combatants now struggled to overcome the other with sheer force of will. Chrysalis duck a thrust of Blackhearts horn, and shifted forcing her horn forward and hitting flesh. The howl of pain was her reward , as blood seeped out from the wound at his left shoulder, and down his leg. She was not quick enough in pulling away as Blackheart turned his head, aiming his horn and did his best to hit her in turn. It was nothing more than a graze against her side, but the force of his own magic burned at her carapace, heating it enough a small portion bubbled up as if it were about to begin to melt.

Her shriek, was his reward, the two moved back, circling one an other only a few feet away. Again, they charged and clashed in the center, but instead of shifting their heads about to get a hit they pulled back again, trying to find an opening.

Once more they circled, and once more they charged, though this time, Chrysalis lowered her head at the last moment and charged her horn forward, thinking to impale her opponent a she had to one of her own drones. Blackheart had been ready with a different approach himself and had shifted his body, turning his head looking to strike her in the eye.

Blackheart fell, a deep gash along his side, blood pouring out form the wound across the ground beneath him. He tried to stand, but his body was quickly failing him, leaving him prone on the floor before Chrysalis as she came up to him, her chest heaving from the extent of this struggle.

She narrowed her eyes as she gazed down at him, “You fight well, my little moth, but your end is now. I shall give you a death befitting of a warrior. Your body shall burn with magical fire until nothing is left but the blackened earth beneath you as a reminder of your existence.”

“You talk too much.” Blackheart rolled his eyes, fighting to maintain his consciousness as he laid there, bleeding out.

Chrysalis was eager to finish this, but hesitant to approach in case this trickster before her held any further surprises. His head sagged forward, before he collapsed to the ground. Chrysalis let out a haggard breath she had not been aware of holding. She lit her horn, barely keeping her own focus due to the after effects of whatever spell, or magic he had used on her.

“Weak,” once again came the voice, barely heard over the sound of chains.

“No...” Blackhearts ragged breath was shallow as he spoke the word so quietly, Chrysalis was unsure if she had heard it. Her eyes grew wide, she knew with a wound such as this, he should not still be alive. She had to end him, and quickly.

“You have my power, and yet you allow yourself to fall. Pathetic, and weak.”

Blackheart felt something from deep within him heating up, while his body slowly grew cold. His anger began to build at the mocking tone of this thing that was supposed to be his. As he felt the heat rise within him, the numbing sensation that had been spreading through his body began to slow, before reversing.

Chrysalis could not believe her eyes, the horn of the stallion before her, began to glow a bright golden light, the wounds of his body began to slowly close, healing faster than any kind of healing magic a unicorn could muster. She charged her horn more, her intent to not hesitate any more than she already was.

The body of Blackheart became engulfed in a bright and intense fire. So intense, Chrysalis and many of the drones had to move back, only able to barely see the silhouette of the body within the flame.

At that moment, the only sound throughout the hive, was the buzzing of wings, and the crackling of the flames on the ground before them. The light cast seemed brighter than a normal fire as it burned with such unnatural intensity, the shadows of the drones on the walls of ichor behind them danced about.

It did not seem possible, but before them all, the silhouette of Blackheart stirred before rising up. A hoof raised and then slammed down sending a wave of energy out, forcing the fire away and finally extinguishing it. He stood there, no wounds upon his body, wings out wide, seeming to hold strength once again, his horn still glowing with the same golden light.

As he stood there, Blackheart turned his gaze upon Chrysalis, once more he raised his hoof, and with a mighty bellow he slammed it down, cracking the ground beneath him, sending out a force of power that caused the entire hive to shudder, cracking the walls all around. Another stomp, and a burst of energy flew out catching all of the drones around him, like a blast of an explosion, decimating the numbers. Another wave began to emit, and dozens of drones either fled in fear, or cast themselves around their queen.

When Chrysalis came around she laid in near darkness, so many black carapace bodies littered the ground all about her, the only light coming from the stallion before her as he approached.

With tears brimming her eyes at the destruction of her hive, and the last remnants of her drones, Chrysalis laid her head down, “Go on then, destroy me, as I sought to do to you.”

“No, you prove worthy to do my bidding. Bring the last of your drones to me, I have a plan as to how we can both achieve greater power.”

“What is the point when you already have great power?”

“No,” Blackheart shook his head, “I must still learn to control this power, as well, I want to learn what I have missed while I slept since the time of this lands founding.”

The foals of Ms. Cheerilee’s class emerged to the near freezing cold. Since they had gone to class just that morning, the snow had built up partway against the door, so much so, that they had to wait an extra few minutes for the janitor to come along and clear away the snow enough to make a path.

Once again, since the start of the week, the last three were Colt, Task, and Tone, each taking their time to emerge from the warmth of the classroom. They had been discussing taking some time to get together after class, and had finally gotten the okay from all their parents. That day, they were planning on spending the rest of the day at Crystal Tone’s house, as Task explained he did not want his older sister, Diamond Tiara to nag them about being there.

“Well, well, look at all the babies. Going home to have your diapers changed?” Came the voice of a mare. The three turned, to see a filly a few years older than them all standing in the snow, covered in heavy winter garments, all the color blue, matching her dark blue and black striped hair. It would have been thought the lighter blue of her fur was from the cold, but they all knew that was just her natural color.

“What do you want, Dementia?” Colt asked, his face going near expressionless.

“Pfft, leave you babies alone for a week and you already think you’re better than me?” Dementia asked, as she lifted a hoof and took a bite out of an apple.

“No, we just enjoyed the days you weren’t bugging us.”

“Come on, Dementia, do you really have to be so nasty to us? What did we ever do to you?” Tone added.

“What, you ain’t figured it out yet? I’m bored, and I want some entertainment.”

“Only a backwards brat, like you, would find entertainment in harassing others smaller and younger than her.” Colt quipped, making Task and Tone gasp as one.

“Hmm, you wanna run that by me again? Not sure if I hear you right with my cap on,” Dementia explained as she stepped closer, lifting one side of her cap from over her ear, as if she wanted to hear Colt clearly.

“I said, you’re a bra-” Colt was not able to finish as a hoof crossed his cheek, sending him backwards into a large drift of snow.

“What’s going on out here?” Came Ms. Cheerilee’s voice from the doorway.

“Oh, Ms.Cheerilee, I was just standing here minding my own business when this poor little colt slipped on some ice and fell. I think he got hurt, I can walk him home.” Dementia was quick with an excuse.

Colts cheeks turned a bright crimson, much like his hair, as he stared at her back, infuriated that she had hit him. One of the things he despised was being struck in the face. He knew he had not been kind to her and was allowing her to antagonize him, but he did not care for Dementia, and her bullying.

“Uh-huh, well, if he is seriously hurt, then perhaps it would be best for him to wait inside with me, while I contact his mother. Quick Task, Crystal Tone, you can go on home.”

The two foals looked at each other, then to Dementia, who glanced over her shoulder giving them a dark look.

“Uh, c-can we stay with Colt? We want to make sure he’s okay, he did take a bit of a nasty fall.”

Ms. Cheerilee looked over them all, only silent for a few seconds before nodding, “Come on in, the three of you. Dementia, you had best get on home.” She said in a stern tone.

Dementia merely shrugged and sauntered past the foals, tossing her once bitten apple off into the snow somewhere behind the school house. It did not take long for her to vanish into the still blowing snow, despite the dark colors she wore.

“Quick, come on in, children.” The three foals did not hesitate to run back into the school. Ms. Cheerilee closed the door behind them before making her way to her desk. There she sat and looked to the three, inviting them to come to her desk. “Would any of you care to explain what happened?”

The three were quiet for a long time, before Colt heaved a sigh. “Dementia was just messing with us, is all.”

“And?” Cheerilee prompted, knowing there was more to the story.

“Ms. Cheerilee, Dementia has been talking down to us for a while now. But, well, Colt had talked back to her, and she hit him.” Tone explained as she turned a concerned eye to her friend.

Cheerilee motioned Colt closer, she took a close look at his face, which now blushed of embarrassment from his teacher being so close. He tried to look away, but she placed a hoof gently on the side of his face that had not been injured and turned him back towards her. He could see something in her eyes, but could not tell what it was as she looked over the cheek that was now already starting to swell up.

“I am going to write a letter to each of your parents, I think it would be best for them to work out something for you three. Perhaps if they switched out each day as to who can come to the school to pick you three up, it should be enough to keep Dementia from bothering you anymore.”

Colt let out a groan, while the other two remained silent.

“Quick Task, go to the door and gather up some snow in this bag, then close it and let Colt press it against his face. It should help the swelling, mostly,” Cheerilee instructed. Task set about doing as he was told and brought the bag packed with snow. He handed it to Colt who pressed it gingerly against his now swollen and bruising cheek.

Cheerilee opened one of the lower drawers and removed a quill and ink followed by a few pieces of parchment, before she began, Colt caught her attention with something she was not expecting. “It was my fault, Ms. Cheerilee.”

She paused and looked at him, “Colt, it is not your fault Dementia is being a bully.”

“No, but it is my fault she hit me,” when he could see that Ms. Cheerilee was not understanding he explained the situation in full detail, including what he had said to her.

Ms. Cheerilee was silent for a bit, her eyes not quite focused as she thought on it.

“It still isn’t your fault, you were trying to stand up for yourself, and your friends. Dementia went too far by placing a hoof on you. If she had only restrained herself with taunting as a form of bullying, then this would not be as big of a problem. If she tries again in the future to bully you, she may remember how she upset you and will most likely try to get you riled up again to try and hit her back. I have only one thing to ask you, and this goes for all three of you.”

She waited until the three nodded and listened, “If she tries to bully you, corner you, or anything else, short of placing a hoof on any of you again, please do not give in and attempt to hit her back. First, it is wrong for a colt to hit a filly, or even a mare. Secondly, she is only trying to instigate this into something more, and deprive you of what is most important, keeping yourself calm, cool, and collected. Thirdly, all three of you are better than to give in to a bully. They will only try whatever they can to hurt you, in any way, shape, or form.

“The best thing for you to do is to keep calm, and walk away, when you are able, tell one of your parents, or me if she is bullying you again. We will do what we can to help you.”

“But how? How will you, or our parents help us? Can you stop her from bullying us? And if so, what happens if she stops bullying us and starts bullying the other foals in class. It isn’t right, or fair for somepony to do something like this for literally no reason.” Colt was breathing hard now, the bag of snow, on the floor a she had dropped it in his outburst, completely forgotten, as he stared at Ms. Cheerilee angrily. His eyes were starting to burn with the threat of tears, but he didn’t want to let them out in front of his friends. He had tried his best to be brave for them, to shift her focus away from them so he would be the only one burdened with dealing with Dementia.

Cheerilee stood from her seat at her desk and stepped over in front of Colt, her form towering over him. At that precise moment, a chunk of the wall that had been blocking his old memories fell, and a memory sprang forth.

The room was dark, and Colt was human, again, but he was so small, and so weak. He had been crying from missing his mother while she had to leave for work. His dad was gone, unknown to him, instead of working, he had met up with his older brother, Colts uncle, and were off in the middle of nowhere getting drunk again. His mom needed someone to watch him, and a man, one they had thought they could trust, had offered to watch him since his mom had been in a hurry.

Now, he stood over Colt as he cried, a tall towering form heavily shadowed. As Colt looked up, his head snapped to the side, his cries momentarily halted as his mind registered that he had just been slapped. The pain on his cheek felt the same as when Dementia had struck him, yet, this, this felt worse because he was still just a baby, and this man before him was so much bigger than he was, and now seemed so mean. Once again, Colt began to cry, from the pain and the hurt, he wanted to ask why, but he still only had a few words he could speak, and so he used the second word he had learned.

“No,” The man turned and stormed off, as Colt wailed out for his mom. Moments later, the man was back, again towering over him, but now he held something in his hand. His face contorted in rage as he screamed at Colt to be quiet, or else.

Colt could not think to do anything else but what he was already doing, he wanted this man to go away, and his mom to pick him up and quiet him.

The next thing he knew, the man over him took the pot in his hand and threw the boiling hot water over his face. The scalding heat was almost too much as he sputtered as Colt screamed as loud as his little lungs could, his eyes were closed, and he could not open them, his face felt like it was on fire. Or so he thought, until he felt actual fire from something small and round burning into his left arm, the smell of singing flesh churning his stomach once it finally made it through his nose. Once that pain eased he felt himself being lifted harshly into the air and then almost thrown down onto a floor and a door shut. The skin around his eyes raw, he attempted to open them, barely able to see he was in a dark room, a light from under the door was the only light in the room.

He was in pain and screamed and cried, wanting his mom to comfort him, a part of his mind thought it was all just one big nightmare, yet the pain was all too much for him to lie to himself, this was pain, this was not love from someone, and now he was alone in darkness.

Colt returned to the present suddenly, he jumped back and screamed out, the tears no longer being held in check. His reaction had not been expected and made the three in the school room with him jump, in momentary fear.

“Colt?” Ms. Cheerilee asked cautiously. His eyes moved back and forth, his breathing rapid, as if he were lost, or his mind was elsewhere.

At that moment, Cheerilee’s heart went out to him, as she remembered that Twilight was not his real mother. This was perhaps, she thought, a bad memory he had suppressed from his time with his real parents. She was, for a moment, uncertain as to what to do.

The next thing any of them knew, Cheerilee sprang forward and wrapped her forelegs around Colt in a comforting hug, whispering to him.

Surprised, Colt was not sure what to do, or how to react. He stood there, in Cheerilees arms, hot tears streaming out of his eyes, his throat constricting, almost choking him as he tried to make sense of everything.

It was several minutes before Colt was calmed down. Cheerilee went back to her desk, a few tears staining her own cheeks. She had to clear her head, and refocus on what she needed to do.

Once more she looked down at the still blank parchment, before she lifted the quill into her mouth, dipped its tip in the ink, and began writing. The letters to Task, and Tones parents were short and to the point. Which was to say, easier, in mentioning Dementia and the problems she had been causing them. The letter to Twilight, however, was much harder. She basically repeated what she had said about Dementia, but did her best to describe what happened with Colt in the classroom afterwards, and added her belief it may have been from repressed memories from his time with his parents before she took him on. She added, at the bottom of the letter, her hopes that Twilight could remain as a proper mother figure for Colt.

As for Quick Task, and Crystal Tone, they merely stood back, their eyes never leaving Colts form, as he sat there, now, next to Cheerilees desk, his head hanging low, a pained expression on his face.