First Case: Blackwood's Dilemma

At least the worst of this day is gone…I hope. Which is something that always fails me.

There are a lot of times I’m mindful of what I think, because most of them kill the way I see life…and it’s not like I enjoyed it in the first place.

…For how long have I been walking? Or trotting or whatever. Looking back, I can see the double glass doors I entered a few…couple of dozens of yards? How did I… A quick glance at the other side of the hallway, I can see the red door is obviously farther, but farther than what I thought it should be. Okay, desperation already broke into my thoughts, if something doesn’t make sense soon, I will-

I slammed cheek first against a sturdy, wooden surface. Making me stumble back, and only when I regained my balance did I began rubbing the pain away.

Please tell me I’m not getting a bruise. A least half of my face hurts at the moment, but a bruise would be sensitive to any kind of touch. So…it’s only pain. That’s good…at least.

The pain almost worn out as I set my hoof down; it stayed a while longer, and then my thoughts began running on their own again.

How much attention would I have really gotten if I entered with a bruised face? …Zero, I would get zero attention.

It was a pointless question, but at least it wasted the enough time for me to feel my face again.

Okay, even my thoughts are slow and uninterested, here goes. With that same motivation, I raised a hoof and pressed it against the doorknob, but held it there for two reasons. One: I still have trouble grabbing. And two: because I remembered something, and it’s important for once.

…What happened to me back there? The way I let that slip from my mouth. That…was too weird…even for me.

“That means receiving all the animosity.”

Why did I let that happen? I’m always careful with what I say because big brother told me so. And besides…I shuddered as a memory tried to slip into my consciousness…angry people, are the scariest type of people.

I found another question to get away from that line of thought.

But what about when I told Wilds she was brave? I remembered…something. It was difficult to describe before just like it is now, but it was something like this: a delicate, yet powerful warmth ran inside my body; it made me feel…confident, like if it was something natural for me.

A warm, fuzzy feeling ran through my hoof as it held it.

Huh, focusing back on the real world, all I see is a blue door with a handle.

Wasn’t…my hoof there? Tracing the feeling of my hoof, I looked down to see it on the scarf that I…grabbed? Stole? Would they have given it to me if I asked? Technically, it would have just accumulated dust there…like if it had any to begin with.

I ended up holding the scarf in a strong grip – already feeling better that I could do something on command – and that comfortableness from before extended to all over my leg.

Is it bad…I could’ve sworn I heard cracks when I made the faintest of smiles…that it makes me feel good?

Thinking about it right, I should just let it be because it’s not like I can ask them or anything, and…it’s the closest thing I have to a good memory - excluding everything related to Nightmare Moon of course
.
I held onto the scarf a bit longer until I felt secure again. Why am I getting all mushy of sudden? And I called this place weird. I think that goes for me as well.

I took a slow, relaxing breath. Already in higher spirits than what I was a minute ago.

No time postponing this, I guess.

It took me less time to grab the doorknob – and I mean, to actually grab it – and turn it open.

What I see first after stepping through, is something I seen in every episode or game that revolved around mystery. Already making me regret listening to that book.

In the center of the room is a pedestal – made out of gray granite with a glassy surface – surrounded by what I assume are four guards…who look strangely similar to each other. All equipped with dark-brown helmets that extends back of their necks, and metallic leggings of the same color that covers both for and hind legs.

From what I could tell…they’re investigating the pedestal for something. Two of them are looking at it intensely from bottom to top. In my opinion, I don’t see anything weird about it. Except for the glass case on top that’s holding nothing inside.

The other two, a unicorn and a pegasus, are discussing something on the side while occasionally glancing at the empty case.

“Here to enjoy the museum?”

If been scared so many random times I should be used to it…but I don’t think that time will ever come.

“EEK!” I jumped away from the source and raised a hoof over my face for protection. It is good that it took a moment to realize I’m over-exaggerating. “Oh,” I lowered my hoof slowly, just in case something is about to hit me.

A blush begins to grow as many – not just the guards’ – pairs of eyes stare at me. I just realized there are about 20 ponies or so in here – and some really nice displays of artifacts on the walls.

I managed to lower my hoof down while forming a sheepish smile, “S-Sorry.” After some mumbling, they all returned to what they were previously doing. As for me, I sighed in relieve and let my shoulders relaxed.

“My most sincere apologies for frightening you.” The mysterious voice on the side made a shiver run down my spine. Not because it sounded intimidating. Okay, the deep, husky voice is scary, but he didn’t say anything that suggests I should be scared of him…yet.

“Miss, are you alright?” I was wrong to be scared of him.

“Y-Yeah. I-” The words died in my throat after I turned to properly greet him.

A black coated pony, two hooves taller than me, is forced to lower his head so his blood-red eyes can see me. His spiky, crimson mane is practically overflowing through the edges of the helmet and reach down to his shoulders.

If I didn’t have a reason to be intimidated (or scared) by this pony, I have now one, especially if the pony has a body with muscles fit for a giant.

“I…I…I,” the response I got back is silence and a glare that didn’t falter.

Seconds passed as my uneasiness grew, so after he did a harmless eye roll, I took a step back in trepidation (and yes, I can use big words too). What he did next is turn around, “My name’s Black Bulk, but the townsfolk call me Giant, and the answer to why is my cutie mark.”

I hesitated at first, for reasons that occurred a good five minutes ago, but finally shifted my gaze to his butt tattoo.

I found it very simple and straight to the point talent: an ordinary wooden house about to be stomped by a red hoof coming out of nowhere.

“That’s…self-explanatory.”

“It’s also a nice startup conversation. The new ponies I share this are joyful to hear someone of my stature can bring harm to their homes.”

Unable to tell if it’s a joke or not, I gave a nervous laugh, “Hehe…he.” …Even I got a little crept out by myself.

Giant at least didn’t seem to care, or is used to abnormal behavior like mine, “You don’t get out much do you?” And seems to have no tact with words.

“N-No,” I could’ve lied about that, but that wouldn’t have gotten me anything, and I’m bad at lying. But I’m still smart enough to divert my gaze somewhere before someone gets a wrong idea, “C-Could you turn around?”

“Hm?” I didn’t see him turn his head, but I still felt a pair of eyes on me. “I’m aware this manner of conversation is rude, but I only wish to show you my good side.”

That’s not the only thing you’re showing. Seriously, I rather not think about it.

“It’s natural to be afraid of someone with my appearance. I understand completely.”

“W-Well,” I swallowed before choosing my words carefully, “it’s not really your colors I’m afraid of, but your height.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s pondering on it, or just trying not to be offended. Can I offend someone by calling them tall? …Is it the same as telling a black person that I’m scared of him because he’s black? …Wait, that’s just racist.

I really am bad at this sort of stuff.

“I see,” his voice drew me from my thoughts, “but can the answer be that simple?”

At this point, I’m not sure whether to be scared of what he might do or politely wait for a proper response.

After gathering my courage, I turned my head towards him…but that was a terrible mistake as he already turned around and…the rest if easy to figure out.

I plastered a hoof on my muzzle and suppressed a girly *Eek*.

The giant slightly tilted his head, and his expression, which is a rigid scowl, is not providing any hints of what’s he’s thinking.

In one second I’m forced to raise my head to look at him, and in the next, he falls to his knees with the enough force to shake the ground beneath me. I almost stumbled down, but managed to spread my legs apart and kept a stable balance.

I was able to manage because it lasted around two seconds, but it did leave my heart beating faster.

With shaky hooves, I corrected my posture and told myself, Don’t ever piss a giant! …Ever!

“Does this fare better?”

“Huh?” I just noticed that there’s still a foot of height difference, but that means less strain on my neck.

“Does this fare better?” He repeated in a monotone.

“Oh, um, yes.” You still look intimidating though.

He scratches his chin, “Do you think wearing a mask will make me appear less intimidating?”

That question froze me in place, W-What? Are ponies suddenly mind-readers. …N-No, t-that’s just ridiculous. I’m the one who said it out-loud. That h-had to be it. This situation of mine is just aggravating, I really hope it’s a thing that will go away soon. I…I don’t want to anger someone on accident.

“Miss, you okay?” It’s the first hint of concern I hear from him.

“M-Miss?” Does it really matter? I asked myself, It’s not like I will see him again later. “Um, sorry. What was the question again?”

It didn’t even take him a second to repeat “Do you think wearing a mask will make me appear less intimidating?”

“…less…intimidating…with a mask?” I don’t know why, but the thought of him wearing a hockey mask came into mind. Which I regretted as a shiver ran from the neck, to all down my spine.

Giant tilted his head again, “Do you want me to console you?”

“W-What!? What kind of perverted question is that?” I did it again! This time I was aware I did it.

The second question did get a reaction from the giant: a blush. “I’m offering it from the kindness of my heart. I promise there’s no aberrant intent.”

“N-No. I-It’s okay.” I took a conscious step back. “It’s nothing really. I just that the thought of you wearing a mask scared me.” I also made a conscious effort to shut my mouth, Oh God, if this continues, please kill me.

The neutrality in his face returns, “What do you suggest I might do?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“I tried everything to not startle or frighten the visitors. I stood beside the door without producing a sound and then formally introduce myself. Other times I stood in front of the entrance and greet them before introducing them to Blackwood’s Haven. There were also a few occasions where I followed them silently after they entered, only then present myself after they seen the first artifact. So that’s my predicament so far. Do you know of any other method that could work as intended?”

Shocked. I never thought I experience the same emotion twice in a day, especially so soon. “D-Did you seriously do all that?” He nods, “B-But that’s crazy. Why w-would you do that?”

“Wilds Hue, assistant of Mr. Wood’s assistant suggested so.”

“Oh,” my ears flopped onto my skull. Yeah…she looks like the type to do something like that.

“Are you acquainted with her?” Had I spoken out loud this time, I’m sure he would’ve asked why I said that. I was rude after all.

I forced a small smile, “Something like that. I…met her on the hallway.”

“Good. Then she’s still hasn’t lost hope on this town.”

My ears perked up, “Then you s-seen it too?”

He nods, “Blackwood may just be in its darkest hour, but all of us maintained a fragment of hope in the village saved us.”

“You mean…what do you mean by that?”
“…” His expression remains unreadable, “Would you care to see the exhibit first before I answer?” Something about his tone, however, sounded off. But I’m not sure what it is.

Hesitant, maybe?

I shifted on my hooves uncomfortably as he kept that massive gaze on me. “Um, o-okay.” I moved my attention elsewhere, and tried not to focus it on the floor. Some seconds past and I noticed I haven’t moved.

With a hurried pace, I rushed over to the first display on the nearest wall.

(Third POV)

As the dark coated pony rushes to the first stand he sees, Giant watches him go with a natural glare.

Faith has the power to spread hope as it has to give ponies something to cling to. His eyes closed as he somberly added even as the world around you crumbles. Once he opens them, his gaze lands on a particular glass case on the wall. But belief is the willpower to move as the new dawn arises. A piece I believed I lost.

You once said that faith and belief will bring destruction if confused, and forcing either onto somepony will brand it as questionable or wrong on their eyes. But by stepping aside, and letting them judge with their own eyes instead by our opinions, we can see how they truly react by our culture. …Those were your exact words Mr. Dawn, and we’re clinging on to them. You may not be in our world anymore, but we will keep your teachings and your son alive.

(??? POV)

Well, might as well do what I said I would.

There’s another pedestal in front of me – rectangular and made of rock with a sand color. The item inside the glass case is a…peculiar knife. It’s blade curves perfectly near the end, and the handle is a deep dark that could just blend in with shadows. I know nothing about proper craftsmanship, but even I can say this was done by a professional.

“Wolf Sprite,” I held myself from jumping, but ended up stiff as rock because of it, and the female’s voice – more of a lady’s than anything with a tone of sophistication – continued without interruption, “it took a month to properly forge to reach its level of perfection. And once accomplished, its purpose was for self-defense when its master was faced against unexpected odds.”

Before turning to face her, I shifted my eyes around nervously. Considering how I met someone of Giant’s…stature, and Wild’s personality, it might be a bad idea to face someone who spoke to me first. On the other hand-hoof, she might actually be a nice pony.

After swallowing my worries, I turned to finally greet her.

My first impression of her is…she isn’t scary…by much at least.

We’re around the same height. Her coat is a navy blue, eyes a dark brown and wears indigo glasses without the top frame on the lenses. Her mane, mostly black with brown highlights is pulled back into a braid that reaches over her shoulder. And thanks that she’s standing at an angle instead of straight – I don’t have to bend my head to see her cutie mark – an open notebook with a quill about to make its mark.

“My name is Sharp Quill. I’m Mr. Woods’ personal assistant, but since today is our annual flyers event, all able-bodied ponies are gone to make…preparations.”

I didn’t think much of the pause she did, but instead I asked the obvious, “If you’re the mayor’s assistant, then why aren’t you…like, supervising the…preparations?”

“Valid question. But remember, I said able-bodied, and supervising falls short as a necessity when the staff are not depended over rudimentary guidance.”

“Oh,” I forced a smile in the best of my abilities, “I-I see, sorry for asking.”

“Don’t be. As I said before, valid question.” Ms. Quill turned her attention to the display I was watching, “What do your thoughts about it?”

I quickly spun back to the item, already trying to find the right words without sounding like an idiot, “Well, it l-looks really great. I mean, it looks like it was made by a professional-”

“Not of its design, but the meaning behind it.”

I blinked and shifted my eyes at her, “I-I don’t understand.”

She met my gaze a moment later, “What do you think it represents?”

I blinked once more and returned to the knife, “…It’s…for thievery.”

“Anything else?”

“…for protection. W-Whoever made, needed to be p-protected. Right?”

“Correct, but there’s still more to it.”

Confused, I turned to her again, “But what else is there?”

Her gaze, however, is on the item of the discussion, “Inspect Wolf Sprite again.”

Questions are forming inside my throat, but held them in as I thought she would want me to find the answer myself. If that wasn’t the case, she would’ve said something else.

Looking at the Wolf Sprite, but really trying to find its meaning, I can tell that…it looks the same as when I saw it the first and second time. The blade has a polished shine to it, clean would be the right word for it. The cross guard and the handle look in perfect conditions too.

“It’s quite perfect. Is it not?” Sharp voiced my exact thoughts.

“It is perfect.”

“Too perfect in fact.” My eyebrows furrowed just slightly. “A weapon that’s seen struggle would have marks of combat, and a blade that’s been stained with blood wouldn’t have an innocent splendor.”

She…is right. Everything about it is new, like, if it’s never been used once.

“Now that you learned all there’s to know about the knife itself, what does that mean for the owner?”

I furrowed my brows completely. If what she said is true, that would mean… “Whoever made this…wanted to be protected, but…never used it…” I took my time to form the right words, “…so he just…” my concentration crumbled as no answer came. “actually, I don’t know what it meant for the owner.” Come on! I should be able to solve this one. It’s probably something simple.

“You were right twice. In fact, the second time was your first answer.”

I turned my head at her, more confused than surprised.

What did surprise, are the corners of her lips pulled so slightly I almost didn’t notice them, but I did because it’s the same ghost of a smile my brother gives me. “It was used for protection. Regardless if it’s a knife, a weapon is a weapon. And weapons are respected as they’re feared.”

What she said makes sense. Sort of.

Which is why I’m glad she noticed my confusion, “Wolf Sprite was used for thievery and protection as you said, but not once did it ever afflict a single wound.”

“So…it was used more for…show.” Then the unbelievable happened, she nods. “T-That means I got it right!?” Her smile became more apparent before she nods again…and, so did mine – only that my smile must’ve come out crock it or something because she chuckled.

“In Blackwood, only two laws exist, but nopony can’t break them – no matter who it is.” She kept her smile, but her low tone made me lose mine. “We do tend to be lenient on visitors, but just slightly, and we make them aware that was their final warning.”

I’m seriously beginning to wonder if something is wrong with this world, because smiling and talking about serious (and potentially life-and-death) things seems unnatural.

“I want to ask you. What rules does your settlement follow?”

I stood still. The nervous feeling returned and growing into a fear I loathed. W-What am I supposed to do? Even my thoughts began to falter. S-So what should I do. A lie? No. My poker face is…its sad. And even if I pull it off, what would I say? It’s not like I know what the common laws of this world are.

A cold trail ran from my forehead down onto my nose – a little too visible in my opinion.
I got out of my thoughts long enough to see her smile gone, replaced by a thoughtful gaze. “You’re not from Animus are you?”

And I gulped. With nothing to defend myself, I spoke the truth, “I…I’m not from around Animus. I-My home i-is very far away.” Technically the truth. I rather not have ponies think I’m crazy.

I held my breath, not daring to say something I might regret. And it didn’t help that she stayed quiet as well.

Soon, I began to hear the idle conversation from the other ponies. Too many to pay attention, and too nervous to even try.

“You’re quite the brave soul to venture this deep into Animus.” I blinked, whether it should be from fear or confusion is something I’m about to hear. “I wish you luck in whatever business you have on this land.”

And with that, she turns and trots towards some ponies examining another piece of history.

I was held in place by…by…By what? Fear? Relieve? Wariness finally getting to me? No matter what it is, it abandoned me. Letting me release a heavy breath that made my slouch forward.

That was…that was something I don’t want to repeat. Ever!

I was able to elude danger, but my mind was already thinking of the consequences had it ended differently. She…would’ve found out I was human, or at least not a normal pony. I would have been kicked out of town and into the mercy of the sun. Or maybe I would have made a run for it while chased by those guards. The image Giant chasing me as a predator is going to give me nightmares in the future.

“…” *Sigh* Well, it could’ve gone worse. Much worse. But, I’m still safe. …That’s right, I’m still alive, so what if maybe, just maybe, I risked forming a small smile, not knowing for how long I keep it, my luck is beginning to turn. My smile faltered for a second…Hopefully I didn’t jinx it.

(Third POV)

After straightening his posture, and relaxing his muscles with a slow breath, he turns around and paces towards another display.

His smile – although crocked on its foundations – is strong as his problems are momentarily forgotten.

So as he prepares to inspect another piece of history, he’s unaware of a pair of yellow hooves approaching his last spot.

They stop near a torn piece of golden parchment, only to pick it up and examine the other side where lay the words:

Just know I’m a huge fan,

and I wish you luck in tomorrow’s race.

“…so,” the voice resembles that of a young girl, “He had the third piece. Guess I made the right decision in coming again.”