Metaphorical Future

The first thing that Metaphor noticed as his eyes opened was that he was no longer in the same room that he fell asleep in. Instead of the star scene ceiling a white panelled one was present. Whilst this was very odd the importance of it didn’t seem to register in his brain, he was still tired, incredibly tired in fact. Had he been more awake and able to reason he would likely have thought it very odd as well.

“Metaphor! Oh my goodness Metaphor!” called a voice frantically, “You’re awake, thank the Princess!”

Metaphor knew the voice but the name of the owner escaped him, well that was until he found himself wrapped in an embrace tight enough to crush rocks.

“M-Mom?!” he croaked, “Wha…mom…I…”

“Please ma’am, give him a little room,” interrupted another voice as his mother’s hooves were pulled back.

“I…I’m sorry,” replied Bookworm, “I’m just so happy to see him awake.”

“I understand but try to restrain yourself a little, this is a very unusual situation.”

Metaphor raised a hoof to rub his eyes and slowly the world came into focus. Above him stood his mother and a nurse pony, both of them looking down at him with concern.

“W-What’s going on? Where am I?” he asked with a yawn.

“You’re in the hospital, you were brought here this morning, “replied the nurse, “I’ll let your mother tell you the rest, if you’ll excuse me I have to go and inform the doctor of this.”

Bookworm just nodded as the nurse departed leaving the two alone in the hospital room. For a moment they just looked at each other, neither knowing what to say next.

“H-How are you feeling sweetie?” asked his mother at length.

“Just really tired,” replied Metaphor with another yawn, “Feel like I could sleep all day.”

“Metaphor, what happened last night?”

His mother’s tone had changed; it was firm and questioning like that of a teacher questioning a pupil.

“Huh?” N-nothing mom,” he replied slowly with a hint of confusion, “we just talked a little and then went to bed…like Misty’s mother told us to.”

“You’re absolutely sure, nothing happened?”

“Y-Yeah mom…why? Did something happen? Why am I in hospital? Is Misty alright?”

“Misty is…”

Bookworm was interrupted as the door to the room opened suddenly revealing Pumice Stone and one of the hospital’s doctors. Pumice looked worried but the moment he saw his son his face relaxed immensely. He crossed the room quickly, throwing a hoof around him and hugging him tightly.

“Oh thank Celestia you’re alright, we were so worried weren’t we Booky,” he said quickly.

“Uh…hi dad,” replied Metaphor with growing confusion, “What…what’s going on? What’s happening?”

Pumice pulled back and looked at Bookworm who in turn gave a small sigh.

“There was quite a bit of panic this morning,” started Bookworm, “I came to pick you up and…well the hospital staff were already there. You wouldn’t wake up regardless of what anyone did. We…we didn’t know what to think at all. They rushed you to the hospital and we followed, we’ve been here since this morning.”

“This morning?” asked Metaphor as he looked around the room.

At that moment his eye caught a clock positioned on the wall opposite his bed. It read a little before six. For a moment Metaphor pondered the time before the realisation hit him.

“You mean it’s nearly six…” he started.

“…in the afternoon, yes,” finished his mother, “You’ve been unconscious all day.”

“The doctor’s said it was like some sort of coma but they hadn’t seen anything like it,” added Pumice.

“Indeed,” spoke the doctor finally as he stepped up to the bed, “Now I need to do a few checks and ask you a few questions if I may. Do you feel up to it?”

Metaphor just nodded, still slightly perplexed at what was happening.

“Good good, now hold still this won’t take long at all.”

The doctor quickly set about his checks, recording Metaphor’s blood pressure, temperature, heart rate and various other statistics, each of which he noted down on a medical chart. Finally he frowned at the information he had recorded and settled himself down in a chair next to the bed.

“Very well now I’m going to ask you a few questions, firstly have you been feeling unwell recently, any loss of concentration or blackouts?” he asked.

Metaphor shook his head, “No…well I’ve been a bit sleepy but the doctor said it was nothing to worry about, right mom?”

Bookworm nodded.

“I see, very well. Have you done anything out of the ordinary at all in the last few days? Been anywhere new, tried anything new to eat?”

Again Metaphor shook his head, the doctor pulled a face.

“This really is perplexing I must say,” he said after a moment.

“What about the tests you ran this morning?” asked Pumice.

“Inconclusive at best,” replied the doctor, “Nothing of consequence showed up on the tests at all. We registered a slightly lower magical reading than we’d expect but that has apparently been a common thing when it comes to your son. For all intent and purpose the tests showed nothing but a healthy individual.”

“Then why wouldn’t he wake up?” asked Bookworm.

“That has yet to be discovered, I would recommend that you bring him back to us in a few days and we will run a few more tests to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

“And what about now?”

“Well given the time it would be best for him to stay in overnight and we’ll discharge him in the morning. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

Both Pumice and Bookworm nodded in agreement at the doctor’s suggestion who nodded back at them. Silently he picked up the medical chart at the bottom of the bed and made a few notes on it before getting up and turning towards the door.

“I’ll have the kitchen arrange for a meal to be brought up for him, it may just be something cold but I imagine you are quite hungry right now lad eh?” he said as he reached the door.

“Uh yeah…I am…” replied Metaphor as he finally noticed his gurgling stomach.

The doctor smiled, “Oh and if you wish to visit your friend down the hall I can’t see why not. There is still an hour left of visiting times and you seem perfectly healthy.”

With that the doctor left the room leaving the family alone in the room. Metaphor’s next words were pretty predictable one could say.

“Misty is in hospital too? What happened to her?!” he asked quickly.

“We don’t know too much, we’ve been too worried about you to check much,” replied Bookworm, “She was brought in at the same time you were.”

“I want to go see her,” Metaphor insisted quickly which earned him a stern glare from his mother.

“Absolutely not, you’ve just woken up and I’m not…”

“Booky,” interrupted Pumice, “maybe we should let him see her. Who knows, maybe it might shed some light on what happened.”

“But I…” Bookworm sighed hard, “…alright…but we will be going with you.”

Metaphor felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him but slowly nodded. Giving a stretch he rolled over onto his side and swung his rear hooves out from under the cover. Taking a moment to rub his head he jumped down from the bed and gave another stretch. He couldn’t deny that he felt a bit odd, like his body was much lighter than it had been and for a moment he stood and tried to balance himself properly. His parent’s watched curiously with a little concern but as he walked around the end of the bed and into full sight their expressions changed drastically. Pumice’s eyes went wide as saucers and he quickly did a double take whilst Bookworm clasped a hoof to her mouth and gasped loudly.

“M-Metaphor, you…” she squeaked quietly.

“Huh? I what?” he replied with a puzzled expression.

“You got your cutie mark!” she exclaimed, her voice holding a hint of disbelief.

“What?!”

Metaphor’s head flicked round quickly and his expression quickly copied those of his parents. There on his flank was a new cutie mark, a set of red and orange flames intertwined into the shape of a heart. He quickly flicked his head the other way and sure enough there was another identical mark on his opposite flank. Finally his head swung forwards, staring at both his parents.

“But I…I…I…what?!” he stammered quickly as he flicked his gaze from Pumice to Bookworm and back again.

“You…you didn’t know?” asked his father curiously.

“N-No dad,” he replied with a slightly nervous hint to his voice, “W-When I went to sleep last night it wasn’t there.”

Pumice cast a glance at Bookworm and then looked back at Metaphor, “Then I think we should definitely go and see Mist, this is all becoming very odd indeed.”

After a moment they left the room and headed down the corridor. Despite the unknown aspects of the situation Bookworm couldn’t help but smile. She kept glancing looks at Metaphor sideways, smiling broadly at the new cutie mark that adorned his flank. Metaphor himself wasn’t sure what to feel. His body still felt a little light and now questions of how he had got his cutie mark whilst sleeping kept flashing around his head. Pumice meanwhile was thinking hard. Being a scientist his mind was already working on possible explanations but nothing seemed to add up.

As they arrived at Mist’s room though their direction of thought all turned towards the young filly in the room. Bookworm gently knocked on the door and they all waited. After a moment the door opened and the face of Wispy Cloud appeared. She looked a little worn out and it was still possible to see the pattern of tears that had been running through her fur a short time before. As she saw the family outside her eyes brightened like the rising sun. She opened the door more, stepped out and threw her hooves around Bookworm. Taken aback slightly Bookworm was initially slow to return the embrace but quickly relaxed.

“Oh Bookworm!” exclaimed Wispy, “I was hoping you’d stop by…I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day but it didn’t feel right interrupting you when…when…”

She paused and released Bookworm, her eyes quickly flicking down to the side where Metaphor stood. The young colt could only watch like a sheep stuck in front of an oncoming train as Wispy swept him up in her hooves and hugged him tight.

“Oh goodness! Oh I am so glad you’re alright! I would feel so bad if you weren’t! I don’t know if you did anything last night but I don’t care, I’m so happy I could...”

Metaphor coughed slightly, the embrace being more like a bear hug than anything pleasant for him. Wispy quickly realised her actions though and released him to the ground. As she looked at him though Metaphor could see a totally different mare to the one he had spoken to the day before. Then she had been a worried and tired looking mother…well she still looked like that but now she had a smile that could have spanned the horizons and a flame of joy and hope twinkled in her eyes.

“Wispy…?” asked Bookworm after a moment, “What’s going on?”

“Mum? Who is it? Who’s at the door,” came a voice from inside the room before Wispy could reply.

“Mist?” chirped Metaphor quickly as he dashed past Wispy and into the room.

Inside Mist was sat up in her bed looking curiously at the doorway. As Metaphor appeared though her face brightened like a sunrise.

“Metaphor!” she exclaimed loudly, “You’ll never guess what happened! It worked! Our wish! It worked!”

Metaphor was a little dumbfounded, had he heard that correctly? Their wish had worked? That couldn’t be true could it? That had just been a whim to cheer her up.

“Wish?” came the voice of Bookworm from behind him as his parents entered the room alongside Wispy.

“Yeah yeah!” continued Mist from her bed, “Last night Metaphor and I wished on the night stars and it worked!”

“She’s been going on about this all day since she woke up,” added Wispy as she wiped her eyes, “I…I really don’t know how much of it to believe though but I don’t care when my little filly is perfectly healthy again.”

“Healthy?” asked Bookworm, “You mean healthy enough to go home again?”

“No! That’s just it, she healthy…perfectly healthy! Her congenital disorder…it’s gone!”

“What?” cut in Pumice as he finally broke his own silence.

“I don’t understand it myself either,” replied Wispy, “This morning I found her flying around her room and panicked so hard I nearly had a heart attack. Then when Metaphor didn’t wake up I rushed them both to hospital as quickly as I could. When the doctor’s examined Misty they couldn’t believe it, it was as if her heart problem had never existed.”

“I keep telling you it was the wish!” pouted Mist, “We wished that I would be able to fly again and…and it happened!”

It seemed at that moment that Misty finally reached the breaking point of her excitement and was unable to hold it in any longer. Jumping from under the covers she launched herself at the colt stood next to her bed at such a speed that Metaphor himself was only able to understand what happened after he had been knocked flat on his back. Mist quickly hugged him.

“It’s all thanks to you Metaphor! I’m so happy I can’t thank you enough!” she squeaked.

“M-Misty get back into bed this instance!” snapped her mother as authoritatively as she could but even so she failed to hide the snicker behind her words.

Misty blushed slightly and stood up but before she got back into bed she noticed something that caught her attention.

“Oh wow! You got your cutie mark!” she exclaimed as she pointed at Metaphor’s flank, “That has to be from the wish right? You got a cutie mark in wishing! That’s amazing!”

“I-I don’t really know what it means,” replied Metaphor as he got up, “I…just sorta woke up with it.”

“This is all getting very confusing,” commented Bookworm as she rubbed her head.

“Perhaps it is best if we try not to think about it right now,” suggested Pumice as he placed a hoof around his wife’s neck, “Let’s just enjoy the moment and work it all out later.”

Bookworm sighed, “Yes you’re right dear, you are quite right.”

And so for the time left to them the two families sat, talked and enjoyed each other’s company. Not much was explained but short stories were shared, quiet laughs were had and a few tears were shed. Metaphor, however, found himself becoming more and more tired as the minutes ticked by. There was so much to be happy about and yet all his brain could think about was why and how. By the time he finally returned to his room at the end of visiting hours though all he could think about was sleep. His parent’s had barely left the room before he found himself wrapped in a deep slumber that only faded as the morning broke over the city.

The next few days seemed to pass in an instance. No sooner had Metaphor been released from hospital that all of his friends wanted to know what had happened; a question which he found himself highly incapable of answering. Things only got more out of control when Mist was released from hospitals and rumours of his wish granting started floating around the city. His parent’s did their best to keep things quiet but even so the young colt found himself hiding in his room a lot of the time.

Both of his parents were concerned but there was little either of them could do at that time. Both of them hoped that they would be able to get more information soon though. Pumice was due to return to work and his line of research regularly had him dealing with magical objects on a daily basis. As he left the house two days later he left with high hopes that somepony at his lab or one of the many research papers in storage would be able to help identify what had occurred that night.

Pumice too had decided to pursuit her own avenues of investigation and as she walked into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns she found herself longing for lunch time. The morning passed much too slowly for her own liking, the librarian pony finding her usual tasks of categorising and sorting very tedious. Even a large stack of late returned books failed to hold her interest.

As her lunch time break arrived she couldn’t shut the library doors fast enough. Having made sure she was alone she slid the lock shut and wandered into the rows of books and parchments. She made for the magical history section, judging it was likely the best place to start looking for ideas. Settling herself down at a small desk she flipped a large sheet of parchment onto it and started writing down a few notes about what she knew already. It wasn’t much but it would give her magic something to look for.

Bookworm wasn’t very skilled at magic but when it came to books and searching there was very few others who could do what she could. Calmly she wrapped her magic around the parchment and then with a glance directed it towards the first set of shelves. She closed her eyes and allowed her magic to wrap itself around the first shelf of books, pulling each of them off the shelf and holding them in mid-air. Then her magic began to quickly flick through each book as if it was speed reading each one in turn. Actually it was merely scanning each book for the words and phrases she had written on the parchment, her search spell was one that a lot of ponies at the school envied.

And yet despite how good her spell was her hour lunch break passed by with little success. A few times she had lowered a book for closer examination but each time it had been unrelated to what she had actually been looking for. A glance at the clock showed that she only had ten minutes of her break left and Bookworm found herself getting more irritated by the moment. When the front doors of the library gave a rattle she lost her patience.

“Still closed for lunch!” she called out in an annoyed tone.

She huffed and closed her eyes, going back to her book scanning.

“I’m afraid you won’t find what you seek in those books,” said a calm voice suddenly.

Bookworm was shocked back to her senses, her magic faltering and an entire shelf of books clattering to the ground next to her. Her annoyance stirred once more, her head snapping upwards towards where the voice had come from.

“How did you get in? We’re still…” she started before falling suddenly quiet.

Before her stood a tall white pony, her sleek form shimmering in the light coming in through the windows. Her mane and tail were alive with a shifting rainbow of colour that flowed back and forth across it. She ruffled her wings slightly, allowing the feathers to return to their resting position before taking a step forwards and allowing the sun’s light to glint of the small crown that sat upon her head.

“My magic knows every lock in this place,” she said calmly, “Sorry to have startled you.”

“P-P-Princess Celestia!” stammered Bookworm as she turned slightly white, “F-Forgive my harsh words!”

“Oh it’s alright my little pony,” chuckled Celestia lightly, “I did startle you after all.”

Bookworm took a deep breath and then slipped off her chair. She bowed low and then flicked her vision over to the pile of books on the floor, “W-What can I do for you Princess?”

“Actually I was thinking more along the lines of what I can do for you,” replied Celestia as her magic sprung to life and began to sort the pile of books back onto the shelves.

“What…you can do for me?” enquired Bookworm curiously, “What do you mean Princess?”

“It took me a little time to track you down but I believe you are the mother of a certain child, Metaphor is it?”

Bookworm was a little shocked but slowly she nodded her head, “Yes Princess, he’s my son.”

Celestia just nodded as she finished putting the books back into place. She turned slowly towards the door and motioned for Bookworm to follow her.

“Come with me, we have much to discuss.”

“But…but the library is due to open again…”

“I have asked my aide to watch over the library whilst we talk. Now come along, I know you haven’t eaten yet and I refuse to allow my staff to work without a proper meal.”

Celestia turned away and began to walk towards the library entrance as Bookworm stammered on the spot. The Princess wanted to talk to her personally?! She had of course met the Princess once before when she had first started working at the school and you always caught glimpses of her throughout the day when she wasn’t busy…but a private audience? Her breathing quickened slightly, her heart thumping in her chest as her mind began to whirl.

“Are you coming?” asked Celestia calmly as she stopped for a moment and looked over her shoulder.

“Oh….yes! Yes I’m coming Princess! Sorry Princess!” replied Bookworm as she snapped herself out of her trance and trotted quickly after the departing alicorn.

As they reached the entrance of the library the unicorn pony Raven was already arranging things on the main desk. She smiled and bowed her head as Celestia walked past, the two ponies sharing a silent conversation that completely escaped Bookworm. As she herself passed by Raven gave her a gentle smile too and then continued to organise her things on the front desk.

Bookworm followed Celestia closely, always sticking a little behind her as they went. As they walked along ponies of every sort quickly brushed themselves to the side to allow them past. Celestia smiled at each and every one of them, never letting a single pony go unnoticed. Bookworm could remember a few times when it had been herself that had been stepping aside for the Princess, the same smile and nod being cast in her direction each time.

Soon though they left the main corridors of the school and began their journey into the more restricted wing of the building. Bookworm hadn’t really set foot in this part of the school before and she found herself looking all around, admiring the artwork, statues and tapestries that decorated the walls. It wasn’t until they reached the first set of royal guards though that Bookworm began to feel a little nervous. Even when you hadn’t done anything wrong the way they looked at you always made you feel like a criminal! Celestia though just nodded and walked past, one of the guards opening the door for her as they both passed by.

“P-Princess,” murmured Bookworm quietly, “Where are we going?”

“Don’t be nervous my dear, I just thought somewhere private would be best to discuss the matter at hoof. I have a small study here at the school where I can relax and be alone. I’ll have some sandwiches brought in for us,” replied Celestia as she turned a corner and headed on.

Bookworm just nodded and the pair continued on for a few more corridors before Celestia finally stopped next to a set of doors. Her horn gave a small twinkle and the doors unlocked themselves and opened. Bookworm could only gawk at the room beyond. A large log fire burned to one side of the room casting a flickering light across the entire room. A large set of curtains sat drawn at the far end of the room covered in elaborate trim. A small desk with a large chair was positioned next to the window and next to the fire sat two rather large cushions and a small table that was currently covered in what looked like a tea set and sandwiches.

“Do come in,” insisted Celestia as she looked back over her shoulder at Bookworm, “Have a seat by the fire and make yourself comfortable.”

“Oh…yes, of course!” replied Bookworm with a slight blush.

She trotted over to the fire and took a moment to examine the tea set. It was fine china with a filigree pattern and gold trim. A small sugar bowl sat next to the teapot itself accompanied by a jug of milk and two teacups. Next to them all sat a plate piled high with what looked like daisy sandwiches with the crusts removed. It was almost fairy tale like in its appearance.

Next she turned her attention to one of the large pillows that sat next to the fire. They looked amazingly soft and a quick test with her hoof confirmed this. She cast a glance over her shoulder at Celestia, the princess currently gathering up a few papers from the desk, before settling herself down on one of the pillows and waiting.

A moment later Celestia also settled herself down onto a pillow and placed the gathered paper on the table next to the tea set. Bookworm waited for the princess to start talking but instead she simple lifted the teapot with her magic and started pouring two cups of tea.

“Help yourself to a sandwich my dear,” said Celestia as she set the teapot down, “I imagine by now you must be quite hungry.”

“Oh…um…yes,” replied Bookworm as she slowly lifted a sandwich from the tray and took a bite, “Princess…what did you want to talk about? What did you mean when you said I wouldn’t find my answers in a book?”

“Allow me to clear a few things first,” began Celestia as she took a sip of tea, “Your son has recently acquired his cutie mark has he not? And a rather unusual circumstance surrounds it?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right. How did you…?”

“I felt the magical burst when it happened; it roused me from my sleep but I was unable to locate where it had come from. I have only felt such magic a few times in my long life. Eventually I was able to find out where it had come from and then I came looking, I was quite surprised to find his mother working right under my nose.”

Bookworm blushed slightly and took another bite of her sandwich.

“Still I have to be sure, tell me…does your son often seem tired or weaker than you might expect? Does his magical talent seem…less than you might expect from one his age?”

Bookworm nodded, “In the last few years he has been tired more than I would have expected. He would probably sleep all day if I let him. And…yes, his magic is quite poor. I always put it down to myself not being very good…or that I married an earth pony.”

“Fear not, it is not you or your husband that is to blame,” reassured Celestia, “But speaking of yourself how have you been feeling? I would hardly say that the spell you were using earlier in the library was not very good.”

“Well…yes I suppose my magic has been a little stronger in recent years. I’ve found I could focus more than I could. But why do you want to know about me?”

Celestia nodded briefly and took another sip of tea, “Your son is a thaumaturgist.”

“A thaumawhat?” spluttered Bookworm as she tried in vain to pronounce the word she had never heard before.”

“A thaumaturgist,” repeated Celestia, “In essence thaumatology is the art of using magic to create real physical effects…or as some have called it in the past, creating miracles.”

“Miracles? But…but that would…”

“I know it seems a little impossible to believe. I have only encountered three thaumaturgists and of those only one truly understood the power they wielded.”

“But…how is that even possible?”

“I will explain as best I can,” replied Celestia, “As you know, all ponies are magical, we as a species have a natural ability to absorb the natural magic around us and bend it to our own will. Either unconsciously as with earth pony strength and the Pegasus ability to fly, or consciously as with unicorns. However we can only store so much magical energy in our bodies and sometimes we must release it. This happens naturally, usually as we sleep and we are none the wiser about it.”

Celestia paused for a moment and glanced sideways at the fire next to them.

“But with Thaumaturgists this ability to release their own magical energy cannot be turned off, they constantly give out their own magical energy which leaves them with very poor conscious magical abilities and results in them being tired a lot of the time. Additionally, those around them will absorb this magic they are giving out and slowly the affected ponies will become more capable and stronger. Sounding familiar?”

Bookworm gasped, “Yes…just like Metaphor and…and how my own magic has got better…but if he is one of these th-thauma…what does this have to do with him getting his cutie mark? And what happened that night?”

“Thaum magic is always cast unconsciously but there are ways to influence it. I have already said that they use their power to make physical impacts on the world around them but in order for this to happen the pony must first believe it is going to happen,” Celestia gave a small chuckle, “Simply put they make a wish…and if that wish is reciprocated by those around them the pony’s magic will respond even more strongly. In the case of your son the wish was for that young filly to finally be able to fly…and his magic did just that.”

Bookworm was completely stunned. She had to admit it all made sense and she couldn’t think of a reason for the princess to lie to her…but it all seemed too strange to be true. Even in a world where magic was common there were limits! Celestia seemed to notice her feelings and slowly took a final sip of her tea before setting it down.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” she said slowly, “And I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me. But I will say one thing, your son is in no danger and neither are those around him. His talent cannot be forced and it will take a very strong emotional link to even have it surface again. Of all the thaumaturgists I have encountered before only one ever granted more than one wish. As unusual as this is it is nothing to fear.”

Bookworm nodded slightly. Was she really alright with this? Was this explanation enough to settle her nerves? Was the explanation even relevant if she knew her son would be alright? Looking back at Celestia she found the princess smiling at her warmly and in that moment the doubt in her mind melted away.

“Th-Thank you princess,” she murmured quietly, “I…still don’t really understand but as long as my son is safe I…I don’t think it matters.”

Celestia simply nodded and started to refill her cup of tea as the fire crackled gentle beside them.