The Refugee

Chapter 1

Where I End and You Begin

"If a man could have half his wishes, he would double his troubles."

• Benjamin Franklin.

             A wooden table with a circle of transmutation meticulously carved into it stood in the middle of a dimly lit room. The dusty scratched up wooden floor beneath bared another carving of the same circle turned opposite of the one on the table. The dim candlelight from the six equidistant corners of the encompassed hexagon in the floor danced upon the rough concrete walls.

             Tears streamed down his face and he sobbed uncontrollably as he dropped the open jar filled with gasoline behind him. With a solemn look in his eye he pushed himself in his wheelchair up to the table and held his open hand over the carvings on it.

             He paused for a moment with his hand over the circle and continued to cry deeply as he recollected staying up until dawn listening to his father talk about ancient rituals and a legendary gate that served as a portal to all worlds. He let out a very loud sob as the memory of his father disappearing struck an unforgiving blow to his already shattered mind.

             "Why?" he cried, violently banging his fist on the table.

             His heart sank with the thought of his mother's funeral only a day ago. He clenched his head with both hands as the memories of her sweet words comforted him on his first day of school. The day the kids called him "gluey" for his strange habit of paste consumption. He was only four, and they were so cruel to him; yet she was always so kind.

             The other children never stopped finding reasons to make him feel worthless, and she never stopped waiting for him to walk in crying. He loved his mother more than anything in the world, but the world took her away from him. The white-hot rage boiled within his veins as he cursed a force he wasn't even sure truly existed, "WHY!!??"

             Both the memories of his mother and father being alive and around seemed so coldly distant now, yet so warmly recent. Every birthday and the ridiculous birthday song they'd sing. It used to make him hide his face with shame, and now it made regret missing those seconds with his palms firmly pressed into his eyes. With both hands still clamped tightly on either side of his head, he mustered a smile.

             He pulled a crude colored pencil drawing of a red pegasus pony with red irises from his pocket. It's mid-length feathered dark purple and blue mane brushed forward, shying away from his flank which bore no markings and it's bushy tail. Above the young colt was the word "Seraf" written in red sharpie. Hands shaking, he gently laid the picture on top of the circle carved into the table. He took a deep breath and bit his lip as he began to fully realize what he was doing.

             "There's no turning back after this." he thought to himself as memories of earth's endless blue skies fluttered by his mind. It hit him all at once that he'd never see another earthen sunrise, feel another cool breeze of his own world's wind, or sneeze from allergies caused by earthen flora ever again.

             As he stretched his fingers apart the carvings on the table began to glow under his hand. Four Hermetic crosses, one on each wall, hummed softly as they lifted off the walls and hovered. He gritted his teeth as he relived every blow to his back with the bat, shuddered as he recalled every vain cry for help, and flinched at the memory of the very audible crack of his spine. "Who would ever come back?" he said as he clinched the fist at his side.

             He convulsed and screamed as the memory of his father's study, left intact from the day he left, darted by his mind. He thought about the day after his thirteenth birthday; waking up to his mother bawling her eyes out in their tiny kitchen. The words she spoke still rung in his head every morning when he awoke since then. "H-He's gone." She never smiled again after those words left her lips.

             In fact she was never the same after his father vanished. A once doting mother spent most of her time on the living room couch drifting in and out of a depression-fueled slumber. She would even go into fits of madness claiming everything from his father being away with work to him being long dead and gone. It crushed him inside to see her like this, and it pressed him harder to find a way to escape it all.

             He recalled sneaking into his father's study, against his mother's advice, around the time he was fifteen. With crosses humming all around him he picked up his father's Grimoire from his lap and the smell of leather and dust reminded him of the first time he had cracked it open all those years ago.

             As was clear from his father's treasured book, the man had dedicated his life to further the science of interdemensional travel and exploration. A dream he kept mostly to himself out of fear that he'd be committed if anyone thought he really believed in such pseudoscience.

             Despite his awareness of what the world would've thought had they discovered it, his father's grimoire laid out, in obsessive detail, the ingredients and processes needed to open a portal that could lead to any world you could ever want to visit (and some you would not). A portal he referred to as "The Gate", or "Il Poerta". The boy knew that the gate was his only hope of ever escaping the place he truly believed to be hell. The only exit from the constant nightmare of living on Earth.

             He checked all six candles to make sure each was still lit. His eyes darted obsessively to each rune in the carving on the table and it's direct inverse on the floor; making sure every line and curve were in its place. He turned his head to all four dimly lit walls of the room to make sure the four crosses were in position.

             "Everything in it's right place." he muttered to himself.

             The sobs shook his body as he looked down at his legs; numb and lifeless. He placed his palms on his dead knees and grasped them tightly; hoping in his heart to feel something in them, and knowing in his mind that he would not, but also that in a short while it would not longer matter. He closed his pouring eyes, tilted his head back, and breathed deep as he bid a silent farewell to Earth that was anything but fond.

             He raised his right hand back over the circle and picture on the table and spread his fingers again. He tried desperately to focus on the table's carvings through the tears as he began the chant.

             "Flies nuf Hermes." The first cross turned on its side and clicked much like a tumbler in a lock would. The room grew darker.

             "Min tamash ferra." and the second cross turned and clicked. The candles' flames became small circles of light, no longer able project light anywhere but immediately around them.

             "Tru nos hazen. Porsu abre il poerta.", and the third cross turned and clicked, the carvings on the table lit up the entire room with a sharp blue and amber glow.

             "Abre il poerta e Mi Ferra a." and the fourth turned and clicked. With tears in his eyes he shouted the final word he would ever speak as a human being and surrendered everything, "EQUESTRIA!"

             As soon as the last syllable left his lips the room filled with a blinding blue and purple light. It felt as though he had been plunged into a pool of ice water as his soul was tugged violently away from his body. He mustered all the strength left in his quickly failing body and desperately held onto the soul that was slipping from his grasp.

             He could barely lift his ice-cold arms, but somehow he pushed himself away from the table hard enough to roll backwards in his wheelchair, upsetting the jar of gasoline and spilling it into the floor on his way to the wall behind him.

             He barely felt himself slam into the concrete as he shivered uncontrollably. He knew without a doubt that his was a sign that he had very little time left. He could feel himself slipping out of his body as his vision blurred. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he felt his entire body go ice cold.

             Convulsing, he bent over and flung his nearly lifeless arm down in front of him; trying in vain to knock the candle in front of him into the gasoline. With his soul now all but completely pried from his floundering body he thrust his hips upwards and pushed himself from his wheelchair and prayed his dead legs would tip the candle over.

             As he hit the dusty floor beneath him he could no longer see or feel anything at all, but he clearly heard the flames let out a terrible roar as they ignited the spilled gasoline. It was finally over. He let out his dying breath in relief and let go of the now barely existent bond between body and soul.

             He could now see himself being pulled into the circle on the table; he could feel an unrelenting pull sucking him into the circle by his hands, feet, head and stomach. He struggled to turn his head against the pull; back towards the candle to make certain the flames had risen and saw the room fill with an otherworldly glow of a strange blue and violet.

             He looked upon his empty shell of a body lying lifeless on the floor as the flames washed over it and smoke filled the room. He felt no pain, no anger, nor no anxiety. He could feel only the pull of his soul, and the icy peace of feeling nothing at all.

             Even into the wee hours of the night the beautiful lights and joyous banter of the Grand Galloping Gala filled all of Canterlot. Celestia had just finished greeting her last guest of honor when one of her personal assistants came running down the stairs, nearly bumping into her. "I-I beg your pardon, my princess," said the bumbling servant as he struggled to halt his advance, "but there is some sort of, uh, well, a creature. In your personal chambers!"

             Celestia's heart sank and her formerly shining eyes grew dull and forlorn. "A two legged creature made of metal?" she said, regaining her regal posture. Her aide's eyes widened in surprise as he tried to catch his breath, "Why, yes. I-I-I don't know how he got in! I've already alerted the guard-"

             "That's ok, Sebastian." She said, bending down to whisper to the bumbling aide, "Tell the guards to return to their stations. This creature is someone I need to speak with."

             Sebastian's eyes turned towards the floor and his brow creased as he tried to digest it all. "Right away. Ma'am. I-I will. Do that. Yes!"

             "And, Sebastian." She called as she made her way up the stairs, "I need to speak with him privately. Please see to it that we're not disturbed unless it's absolutely necessary."

             "Y-Yes ma'am! Right, then!" He said as he wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief.

             With every upward step Celestia's normal radiant serenity faded into a gloomy sadness. Mid-way up she paused and for a moment seriously considered not confronting the man of metal that awaited her.

             She tried to think of any possible way she could to avoid what was to inevitably come. She looked back down at the foyer of Canterlot Castle and the heavenly lights lit a path back down to a world without worry. He ears stood erect as the strings and horns of the Royal Orchestra called her away from the music she knew she had to face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to keep her composure despite her unshakeable fear.

             As she finally reached the top of the stairs with her head hung low, she stopped and stared at the open door that led to her personal chambers. She took a deep breath and again fought off the ever-present urge to turn away. She raised her head and slowly walked through the door with a forged grace.

             The man of metal stood inside her quarters facing out her window. His skin was plates of mostly rusted metal welded and riveted haphazardly over one another. His ever still eyes and mouth were holes cut into a cylindrical head with a tin cone forming the lid on top. His body was a cylinder, his arms and legs thick metal pipes with joints in the appropriate places a humanoid creature would have, and his hands and feet were very simplified rounded shapes representing human ones.

             She stepped further into the room and let her front hoof tap the floor to announce her presence. "Hello, Tarnish." She said softly. He turned to her and said in a low raspy voice, "It is time, Celestia."

             Her eyes turned from him as her brow gave away her sadness. He turned his entire body towards her with a wretched and unnerving screech of rough metal on metal. "The prophecy has begun, and your compact is now active." He declared coldly as she caught a glimpse a dim flame inside his hollow head flicker to life through his eye and mouth holes.

             Celestia hung her head in despair. "I know." she said as she passed Tarnish and looked out the window over all of Equestria. "I'm going to miss Equestria. I've given everything to this wonderful place.", she said, placing her front hooves on the windowsill, "It always felt like...like I was born to rule here."

             "A human is born to be a human. Only an Equestrian may rule Equestria forever." Tarnish said, reinforcing Celestia's notion of how silly her previous statement was, "You were issued your compact when you took up Godhood here."

             Celestia looked Tarnish in his eyes, and saw that the flame now burned with the brightness of a furnace. She only recalled seeing that flame in him once before when they discussed the fall of the late queen.

             She shuddered at the thought of her part in it all, and found disgust in Tarnish's strange fascination with debasing deities.  She recalled signing the fate-sealing compact on the day she and Tarnish discussed the queen's abdication, and an icy despair washed over her with the reality that it was time to surrender to it's final conditions.

             Celestia closed her eyes and bowed her head in acknowledgement before the metal man in front of her. "Tarnish the Harbinger, First of the Ungods," she said reverently, "I must accept my fate. I made a deal and as ruler of Equestria I won't back down from it." The flame in Tarnish grew brighter.

             "But I am begging you, please do not let Equestria fall into the hands of Discord in my absence!" She exclaimed as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Equestria is a land of harmony and happiness, and if I must leave it, I will whatever it takes to leave it that way."

             Tarnish looked down at her with his soulless stare. "I am Tarnish the Harbinger. First of the Ungods. King of the falling. My presence is the beginning of the end. My purpose is the unraveling of Deities. My fiefdom is the crippling of Gods." He knelt down and looked her in the eye, "I hear your submission, Celestia." He said as her reached down to touch her cheek, "But I can promise you nothing of Equestria after you pass through my brother, Perish."

             As his finger made contact with her a patch of rust oxidized onto her cheek, causing her to cry out in pain as she stood and backed away from him. She faced him with tears in her eyes, a slight scowl on her face, and fear in her heart.

             He stood to face her as well, and held his ground. "You have made a creature you call the wither. It is designed to keep other translated, like yourself, out of Equestria."

             Her mouth went agape and tears began to stream down her face as she recollected the horrible ritual that bore the terrible thing she named the wither. She let slip a forlorn whisper as her heart took over her tongue, "Sister..."

             Tarnish stood unmoving, "You have done what you can to protect this world. You must take comfort in knowing that."

             Celestia stood with her mouth agape as she was forced to accept that she was going to have leave Equestria very soon, and she felt the cold embrace of a stark reality wrap around her heart as she realize that after she was gone there was nothing else she could do to protect her world. Equestria would be in the hands of the fates, and this weighed heavily on her broken heart.

             An orange glow came in from the window as dawn began to break. Tarnish's body screeched and moaned as he turned to look outside at the orange light that was lighting up the few reflective specs on his body, "You are falling, Celestia." he said as he took a step towards the window, "You knew this day was to come."

             Celestia wiped the tears from her eyes, "Yes," she said as new tears filled them again, "So be it then."

             Tarnish turned and walked towards the window, squeaking and scraping as climbed into the windowsill. With his feet planted on the bottom of the window and his round hands bending impossibly to grasp it's sides he pushed his body outward, falling like a dead thing, and then in midair he dissipated into tiny flakes of metal and rust which blew away in the wind.

             Celestia began to cry uncontrollably as she trudged over to her desk and grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill as she prepared to write her final letter at the dawn of her last days in Equestria.

             On the night after the Gala, the Starswirl Meteor Shower Festival was the place everypony in Ponyville could be found. They could all be seen comfortably laid out on large picnic cloths dotted with various snacks and drinks with their closest friends waiting for the shower to begin.

             Twilight clapped her hooves in excitement, "I can't believe it!", she shouted with a beaming smile on her face, "This only happens once in a thousand years! Ohhhh I can't WAIT!"

             Fluttershy smiled at her and said in the sweetest most sincere voice, "I hope it's everything you wished for, Twilight!"

             Spike stood with net in hand licking his lips, "You sure there's no way we can catch those delicious looking stars when they shoot down?"

             Twilight rolled her eyes and she and Fluttershy adoringly laughed at him, "Spiiike," said Twilight, "They're not really stars! They're just meteors." He looked up at her with a pursed brow. Noting his confusion, she continued, "Big hunks of rock burning up when they enter the atmosphere?"

             Fluttershy nuzzled Spike and giggled softly, "Even if they were stars, you wouldn't want to catch them, spike. They might burn you!" Spike grinned slyly, "Wellll...just in case you're wrong. I'll be ready."

             Applejack pointed up at the sky, "Here we go! It's startin'!"

             Twilight dashed over to her telescope and desperately pointed it all over the place. "Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh! WHERE!?", she said in a panic as Pinkie giggled loudly at her.

             "Right there!" Applejack exclaimed as she took Twilight's face in her hooves and aimed her towards the first meteors. All the ponies sat in awe with the stars twinkling in their fixed upward gazes while spike readied his net.

             Twilight stared at the falling stars and basked in this once-in-a-lifetime chance, "Wow!" she said, completely fixed on the view. She smiled as she stepped away and signaled for Applejack to take a turn at the telescope.

             "Just think," she professed, "Starswirl the Bearded's spell from three thousand years ago when he brought the moon to Equestria still pulls the stars to earth every thousand years to this very day!"

             Rainbow Dash had taken Applejack's place at the telescope, "Look how FAST those babies are flyin'! WHOAH!" she said as she made way for Rarity to have a look. "My, my," said Rarity, "They certainly are bedazzling!" It was then that pinkie's tail began to twitch violently.

             "Twitcha, Twitcha-TWITCHA-twitch!"

             "That one there does seem a bit larger than the others.", claimed Rarity as she saw a large ball of flame soaring through the sky.

             "Uh...guys!?" Pinkie said, trying to get everyone's attention.

             Twilight looked up and spotted the large ball of light as well. "Well they do come in a lot of different shapes and sizes. It's not unusual to see a big one." Pinkie's tail still twitched out of control, "Guys!?"

             "He might be a big one, but look at him go!" said Rainbow, emphasizing the last four words individually, "That hunk of rock might even be beating my top speed, if you can believe that!"

             Fluttershy gazed upward, too. "Oh my, it's beautiful!" she said excitedly. "Guuuuys!!!" Pinkie said, slightly frustrated.

             As the world grew a little brighter a sinking feeling welled up in Applejack's gut, "Is it just me, or did it get a mite brighter out here?"

             Twilight pushed Rarity aside from the telescope and looked into it, "What a strange color...I've never seen anything like that shade of blue...or purple?" Twilight said as she tried to decipher the otherworldly color of the star. "What color is that!?"

             Pinkie suddenly got a look of shock on her face, grabbed her tail, and held her tongue.

             Fluttershy noticed the trajectory of the light and sprung to her hooves, "It's headed right for the Everfree Forest!"

             The sky lit up with a strange blue and violet light as the meteor came so close that it's heat could be felt by every pony in Ponyville. Everypony stood frozen in place as they tried to grasp the disaster in front of them.

             The round meteor stretched out into a beam of blinding pale blue and purple and shot straight down into the Everfree Forest without a sound. Not a single pony made a single move for quite a while as the events the just unfolded settled within their minds, and terror of the unknown, the oldest fear in all the world, become the most potent feeling in all of Ponyville.

             He slowly opened his eyes to find his face in the dirt. He pulled his hands to his face and felt the hard texture of a hoof meet his cheek. He brushed the dirt from his face and eyes as he looked down at his hand and saw that it was now red, hard, and fingerless. He gasped in excitement, his heart raced with happiness, and he smiled and barely made out the words, "It worked!"

             His legs wobbled with weakness as he attempted to force them to support his weight. He pushed his hindquarters up and noticed immediately that his back legs were working, and he wept with joy. "They work!" He happily used one of his back legs to scratch his itchy new hide.

             He tried to focus his eyes on the room around him, but they raced about his surroundings when he tried to look at anything out of hoof's reach, rolling around completely out of his control. He remembered the wobbling legs and rapid eye movements from the last time he translated himself to an Equestrian form. He was comforted by the memory that these effects were only temporary.

             He laid down for a little while and tried to focus on getting used to his new body. He rolled over, kicked out his legs in all directions, and rejoiced; he was back in Equestria, and this time he was never going to leave. He began to roll all over what felt like dirt underneath him as he used it to scratch his itching back.

             He began to wonder why he was so itchy. At first he thought it was some adverse effect from the translation, all the new hairs on his body could be causing it. But he did not recall any skin irritation from the previous translation.

             Though this phenomenon was strange his mind was far too occupied with the excitement of finally being back in Equestria, the only place other than his home he ever really felt any peace, for it to be anything more than a fleeting thought.

             After what seemed like days of lying in the dirt, itchy and half-blind, he slowly gained control back over his eyes, and his legs gradually became sturdy enough to walk on.

             Though his eyes were still weary he could make out through the dim orange light coming through a single window that he was in a room with a dirty wooden floor, a single wooden table in the middle, and a single door on the wall farthest from him.

             He could see the orange light from outside cutting through what looked like a fog or smoke of some kind that filled the top half of the room. He nodded to himself as he recognized his surroundings as the ritual room he came into last time.

             He pushed himself up on his shaky legs, and found that he could stand. He set one foot in front of the other, and began making his way to the door. With each clomp of his hooves he became more and more surefooted. With each blink he gained more control over his wild rolling eyes. With each breath he felt more comfortable in his new pony body.

             At last he arrived at the door and raised one hoof to open it. Looking down at his hoof he noticed that the dirt on it was strangely fine and black, and smelled more like ashes than dirt.

             His mouth went agape for a moment as he wondered if someone could have possible burned their Equestrian body in an attempt to permanently translate to some other world. He shook his head in disbelief as he could conclude no reason anyone would ever want to leave such a heavenly place.

             As he pushed open the door he saw the smoke from above him begin to billow outside as the light of the dawn shot through the canopy of trees around him that seemed to go on for miles. The aroma of exotic flowers filled his head and he became certain that he really was in Equestria.

             He stepped out and looked all around the building from it's entrance. He could hear bugs buzzing and squeaking, birds chirping and calling, and something unknown rustling in the trees. He searched and searched from his single vantage point, but could find no other signs of civilization.

             "This isn't Manehattan." he thought aloud as he recalled the last place he woke up in when he entered Equestria.

             "You're correct, friend." said a calm, collected, and posh voice from above him. "This is the new gate entrance in the Everfree Forest. Too many ponies and too many questions in Manehattan. Sorry you didn't get the memo."

             He turned to look behind him and upwards on top of the building and saw a strange looking stallion filing his hooves. He was a scrawny grey pony with large yellow eyes and red irises. His white mane sat unkempt on top of his head, a great contrast between his very proper voice and perceived mannerisms.

             "And who might you be, then?" he cautiously said to the stallion.

             The stallion tossed the file he was using on his hooves aside and slid off the roof, hitting the ground with a quiet thud. "I am Bisz K'root, Hazencrossier of Equestria." he said as he pointed to the marking of a hermetic cross on his flank.

             The colt unconsciously laughed to himself as he looked the stallion up and down. "Who put a scraggly old man in charge of guarding Equestria's side of the gate?" He laughed again, harder this time, and smiled to himself, sure that the old man would be certain he was only joking with him, "You? A hazencrossier?"

             The old stallion grinned at him sinisterly and politely bowed his head, "Well who would have thought such a foolish little colt would've ever survived a rite of translation? Given that you obviously botched the process, that is."

             A look of confusion and shock came over the colt as his mind struggled to comprehend what the hazencrossier meant, "Botched? How do you mean?".

             The hazencrossier smiled and rolled his eyes, "We really should put a few mirrors out here." he said, pulling a full sized mirror from what seemed like nowhere and placing it in front of him, facing the colt.

             He froze in a cold horror and began hyperventilating as he looked upon himself in the mirror; a charred mess with patches of fur and mane completely burned away.

             A huge burn on his face that nearly reached his right eye made him also notice that in that eye's pupil and iris was a very noticeable hermetic cross marking. Even in this world he could not escape having some sort of disadvantage that others would belittle him for.

             "No...No!" He yelped weakly.

             The hazencrossier laughed at him heartily, and for a moment the young colt entertained the idea that this was all a cruel joke involving some kind of magic mirror. "My dear boy," he said, "Did no one tell you that you're supposed to have someone set the flame after the entire rite is over?"

             His mind could only barely bend far enough accept what was happening. His legs locked and he struggled to breath. His heart pounded so vigorously it felt as though his chest was going to explode. "It can't be!" he cried with tears streaming down his face, "Please! NO!"

             The stallion grabbed the mirror nonchalantly and it disappeared as he placed it behind him. "Let me guess," he began, "You set fire to your body right at the end of the ritual?"

             The colt nodded frantically. "No one wou-"

             "-And so the mystery is solved." The stallion interrupted joyously, "The circles were still active, and they pulled the fire in with you."

             He began to bend his knees in unnatural writhing ways and he clenched his eyes shut. "This cannot be happening." He thought to himself, "This? Now?"

             He opened his teary eyes and met them with the stallion's. "Can you fix me?" he cried.

             The stallion let out another hearty laugh and licked a canine on the right side of his mouth that was much longer than the others. "Well I could. But you see that's just not in my job description." He looked the colt in the eye and smirked sinisterly.

             The colt's heart pounded with impossible force as he came to the realization that he was disfigured for life in Equestria, he shook uncontrollably knowing he would never be able to live the life he dreamed of; his blood boiled with the realization that everything he had done was all for nothing.

             He cursed the short-sightedness of his father. "The Grimoire...how could he have left it out!?" he thought silently as tears rolled down his face and his mind raced for any memory of this being mentioned in the old book, "Didn't he know?"

             He thought briefly of ending it all; how easy it would be to just burn up what was left of him and be done with it. He grinded his teeth as he tried to comprehend how fire, a physical thing, could've ever translated through the gate, a portal through which only non-physical things should be able to travel. "Impossible!" he thought, struggling with the very idea, "How can it be!?"

             The hazencrossier, having now returned to laying on his back on top of the small hut in the middle of the forest, looked down upon the colt with a malevolent grin. "You know," he said with a conniving tone, "if you are familiar with this world at all, which you must be, you have to know that there's a zebra in this very forest who specializes in herbal remedies."

             The young red pony met his red eyes to the stallions'. He yelled angrily, "I'll need more than that!"

             The stallion chuckled at him, "You won't make it Ponyville's Hospital. In your condition the infection will take you before you ever make it out of the forest." He said, pulling a piece of parchment from behind him and throwing it to the young pony. "This will help you find her."

             The colt spread the rough parchment out to reveal a very detailed map of the Everfree Forest with a trail marked in red ink from the hut to another hut more towards the edge of the forest. The second hut was marked "Zecora".

             "She's your only chance, you know." The stallion quipped, "surely you can work it out from there."

             He scowled at the grinning stallion and pondered why he would give him this map. Why would this heartless old fiend help him at all if he wasn't willing to just heal him? "I suppose that's it, then." He said, realizing that Zecora would be the only help he'd be able to reach in time. "I'll be on my way then."

             He spread his wings and leaped into the air, releasing his legs to let his wings carry him, and immediately came crashing down back into the ground face first. He pushed himself back up, spit the dirt from his mouth, and looked back at his wings.

             He turned to the left and spread the left wing, checked it's feathers, and saw that everything was fine. He turned to his right and spread that wing, only to find a burned stump with only a few partially charred feathers where a wing should have been.

             His stomach turned, his eyes widened, and his heart sank. "No." he cried softly. Thoughts of suicide rushed through his head once more as he began to wonder if he would ever see the end of his suffering.

             "Not like that you're not." the stallion chimed. "Now, if you'll be on your way, stumpy, I have some very important business to attend to." he said, pulling a handheld gaming device from behind him.

             The colt could hear the hazencrossier grumbling over it's beeps and blips as he grabbed the map from the ground and studied it.

             "Oh! I almost forgot!" The stallion called to him, "What is your name?" He thought for a moment about not telling him, but remembered that giving a hazencrossier information as they requested it was usually in one's best interest.

             "It's Seraf." he said quietly, never turning away from the map.

             "Semi-Seraf?" Replied the Hazencrossier, never turning from his game.

             "IT'S SERAF!" he called back, emphasizing the it's.

             "Sarah?"

             "SE-RAFFFFF" he yelled back angrily, scratching his burns and scabs.

             "Got it!" he stallion yelled, "Arggh! This game cheats!"

             The colt stomped his hoof and puffed through his nose in frustration. He involuntarily reflected on all the figures of authority that had let him down and had even been downright malevolent to him.

             He cursed the hazencrossier for not doing more to help him, and wondered again why he refused to heal him when it was apparent he had the ability to do so. For a moment the image of Celestia passed by his mind. His brow creased inward as he tried to hold onto the flash of her image and force himself to remember it's relevance, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

             After another look at both the forest and the map, he saw a broken tree in the forest that resembled one drawn on the map. Confident that he had found his first landmark; he rolled up the map and breathed in the morning forest air.

             He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a step towards a broken tree that was his first marked waypoint. He took one look at the hut behind him and the hazencrossier still atop it; still playing his game. He sighed and continued towards the tree, as he bid the gate and it's keeper a silent farewell that was anything but fond.