Old Flame

Chapters

Village of Sunsets
On Lost Time
Distance to be Crossed
Grey Horizons
Better Left Buried
The Deepest Wounds
Off to the Unknown

Village of Sunsets

The volts slammed into the monster, holding it solidly in place as the energy continued to scorch and zap it unmercifully. He felt a rush of excitement as the troglodyte moaned in pain from his magic, the bloodthirsty beast finally beginning brought back down to size by one much more powerful than it.

Suddenly, breaking his hold on the creature, an unseen beast swung at him from behind with a clawed arm, striking him across the face and sending him sprawling to the ground. He could feel the sting of a cut across his face and tasted the bitter iron of his own blood dripping down his face.

Gritting his teeth in rage, he felt the power within him swell as he rolled back to his feet. Channeling the magic back into his fists, he swung forward in his own strike and decked the attacking beast in the chest. The energy-infused punch exploded against the snow troll, as well throwing it backwards from sheer force.

Still feeling the rage pound up through his body, he peered viciously for the beast he’d been electrocuting prior. He spotted it, weakly bounding back toward the distracted figure, who still was keeping a crowd of five other trolls at bay with her single sword.

“No you don’t,” he growled, knowing all too well what the monster was attempting to do, “I won’t let you.” Seething with anger now, he darted forward in a magic powered sprint and leaped at the troll's unguarded back. Grabbing two large tufts of its gangly fur, he erupted a wave of electricity through his hands and into the troll’s body.

The beast screamed in pain as its body was encased in a solid burst of energy. He could see the creature’s skeleton flashing in and out of focus as sparks jumped wildly off the edges of its body. A slight burning smell came from where he stood; still savagely clutching the monstrosity that had attempted to hurt his friend.

He knew that the creature was done for, yet he continued to send the electricity through its body, the hate towards the single solitary creature pushing him to limits he’d never yet felt. The power that he held in his hands, the rush that went through his body, it was exhilarating, powerful, and utterly fresh to when he normally attempted magic.

Thing first thing I heard was the rapid clanking of train tracks as I awoke with a jolt, panting heavily as the real world slowly came into focus. I brought a hand to my pained chest in an attempt to calm my startled heart. Gradually, I was able to calm myself down, and slumped back in my seat as the anxiety passed.

Another dream, another recollection, this one different from the others. It was typically from the ordeal just a few months ago but this time it was all they way back from my assignment to the Griffon Kingdom, nearly a year ago. My gosh, where has the time gone?

I looked down at my hands just to check I wasn't as old as I suddenly felt. Nope, some fair hands attached to the same fair arms. Was that a relief? Maybe. I'd be seeing these same hands for I didn't know how long so possibly there was a familiarity to them. I don't know, maybe I'm just getting too sentimental.

I glanced out the window and saw that the grassy rural plains had become a mildly wooded forest in my absence of thought. There still wasn't all that much to look at from before. Just blurs of trees after more blurs of trees. But it continued for longer than I'd expected, meaning I was going deeper into this curious forest than I'd originally presumed.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out from it a folded slip of paper. Scrawled across its front by yours truly was:

7:32 AM, Departure time

Sunset Grove

Train Line 25, Westbound

And on the other side:

1280 Ballybeg Ln.

Prof. Neuro Paraprax

I ran my thumb over the name and address, smiling slightly. It felt like ages since I'd last seen that name, even longer since I read it out in my head. It was amazing all that had happened since we last met. I wondered if he'd even recognize me after all this time...

No, he would. Despite the inner old man in my soul saying otherwise, I knew it had only been two years since we'd seen each other. He probably still was the same spectacled orange stallion, and I(in his eyes at least) was still the same wide-eyed kid with emerald pupils and chestnut hair. I hoped my eyes had receded at least slightly.

But it was painful being reminded of everything that had happened so long ago, in the honeymoon period of my life if you will. When I'd been such a dependant guy, needing other people just to feel good about myself. Any once those people were gone...I was lost with who I am.

I've trying to get better at it, being all by my lonesome. I don't like (as you'd expect) but it doesn't bother me as much. I've gotten used to not saying much in a single day, only conversing with my mind whenever the situation called for it. I entertain myself through smaller activities and do whatever I want to do. It's liberating as well as depressing.

When I'd been too dependent on people for my own sense of security and not properly equipped to handle the carefully constructed life I built for myself crumbling down around me. It had happened before, which was why I was in this realm to begin with.

So speaking with someone from that stage of my life, a stage I'd rather forget, and having them treat me the same way they had only made the memories more vivid than I'd care for them to be. I knew we'd both be able to adapt but the process of getting there would be another push through my own emotions.

The train whistle sounded a few cars up and I could hear the familiar shriek of the brakes against rails. I lurched slightly in my seat as we slowly decelerated the closer we got. A few moments later we had slowed into a crawl, chugging gingerly forward along the uniform chugs of the train's engine.

I slid my suitcase out of the overhead carriage and hopped out of my seat in a single energetic bound. I wasn't excited about being here but I might as well act like it. 'Fake it till you make it' as the peculiar saying went.

I stepped off onto the platform from the top step, nearly tripping over the metal steps that led down. I could see that only a handful other ponies were getting off at this stop. Even before we'd all cleared off the asphalt strip the train's engine sputtered back to life and zoomed off as if it hadn't even stopped.

I watched as it pushed further into the brightened forest surroundings until it disappeared around a corner, my only way out gone for the time being.

It took a few moments to realize that the few other ponies had already stepped off the platform and into the miniscule station that served this sleepy little hamlet. I did the same, finding an equally emptied station. Only a few employees stood around, chatting amongst themselves as I hovered past.

I discovered upon my walking out that the roads in this town were entirely dirt paths, with, although an exception to the larger clearing by the station, were narrow enough that I could actually touch the tree branches if I stretched my hand out. I'd heard people call Ponyville a sleepy town. But this? They didn't know the meaning of the word.

The sentiment hit me as I stood there that I had no clear start in my search for 1280 Ballybeg Ln. These roads weren't quite as accessible as the masonry grids I'd grown so accustomed to, but I'd lived in a land without roads long enough to remember finding my way without a structured guide.

Starting however...was left to chance. I took the path closest to my right.

The walk was quite enjoyable. The afternoon sun shone overhead and the forest was alive as Spring finally arrived. There were a few breaks in the trail with crudely marked signs leading to different roads, so I wasn't as lost as I thought.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been going until I noticed the sparsity of trees begin to increase. Grass became more common and I swear the road itself expanded with each step I took. I could see a lake across the ways to my left, flat as a strip of steel and emitting an almost luminescent blue from its fresh looking waters.

A house was in the distance, situated close to the lake, with a near-golden outside finish, white rimmed window panels and several windows to go along with the panels, it looked as if a solid construction taken directly from the sun itself. It was larger than most homes I'd seen and just a tid bit imposing from its sound construction among the rest of its surroundings. And the fact that I could see all of this from the position I was standing only exemplified just how grand it was.

As I approached it along the road, I began to question if this was the house I was looking for. Neuro had never struck me as a pony for high-refined tastes but our relationship hadn't been one of mutual understanding between us, meaning that there was still loads of things that were a mystery to either of us. Still, it seemed unfitting for the messy Professor to own such a giant place.

But once I was close enough I could clearly read the address sign sitting by the road. 1280 Ballybeg Ln. written across a wood panel in neat black cursive, the marking of a well-educated pony with a disdain for print writing. Yes, this had to be his home, unless he'd moved away just a few days ago.

I stood outside for several moments, just looking at the house before me. Not so much as inspecting the house but more so in contemplation on how I was going to introduce myself. That was going to be the hardest part.

The last time we'd spoken in person had been upon...shaky ground. I don't want to get into specifics but it involved an aggressive psychological practice that had rendered my mind helpless to external suggestion. It was a violating process and I would have beat the Professor senseless if he hadn't left the day prior.

He sent me a letter weeks later, apologizing for his actions and explaining his motivations behind them. It had all been for scholarly reasons, his hunt for answers regarding the exact nature of the select individuals who appeared in Equestria once in a generation. He hadn't tried to justify what he'd done, which was admirable, but more begged for my forgiveness in what he'd done.

His regret had almost been palpable on what he'd written. I truly felt sorry for him and wished I could have responded to it, accepting his apology with open arms. But he hadn't supplied a return address and said he'd contact me again only once he felt emotionally equipped for it. After two years that either meant he wasn't or he was trying to forget the thing entirely. I couldn't tell which.

Which left me with nothing left to do but find out for myself. Without a rehearsed greeting or opening speech, I boldly strolled across the road and onto the brick walk that led up to the home's front deck. Climbing the small flight of stairs, I stopped in right in front of the home's main door.

I waited just another minute and knocked against it twice. I waited patiently for a response.

10 minutes earlier...

I am a quite scholarly individual. From my earliest years I can recall I higher desire for knowledge among the questions of the world that went unanswered. At least, this was in my younger years were I'd hunt ghosts in the forest behind my home and construct convoluted plans to capture the elusive creature named 'the Snipe'.

But these childhood ambitions drained over into my adult academics that flourished the older I got. And this of course was not only assisted by the several degrees I accumulated over my lasting years in universities. More so, on how I held my own lifestyle and principles. Not once did I ever back down from a challenge that I openly embraced. If it would take time out of my livelihood, disturb my day to day comfort then so be it!

And speaking of my ambitions pertaining to how I lived, this could easily be seen in my home. Take for instance, the study I sat in at the moment. Every flat surface, floorboards included, was dotted with some stack of literary text or journal with stray papers and writing utensils wedged between every space I'd placed my hooves.

My desk was even worse than the rest of the decor. Practically no open space could be used minus the small rectangle I kept clear (for the most part) to conduct the work that was in front of me. This included everything from planning my next lecture to my own publications that circulated through other scholarly journal circles. But at the current moment, I was constructing something mildly different from my established forte.

It was a diary of sorts to put it plainly, a sort documentation to my own activities as well as feelings for that day. I'd gotten into the habit while on an extended research trip up to the Arctic Circle two years ago. The trip had lasted nearly six months and I quickly realized upon my arrival that more than half of the time that would spent there was simply sitting around while one waited for a blizzard or some other ghastly weather to pass. The boredom had been one reason to motivate me to start writing but there was another reason as well.

At the time, I'd been plagued by a guilty conscious even before I'd arrived by boat. I don't want to get too close into details but I'd done something...unwarranted and had gotten off without even the slightest amount of punishment. I hadn't even apologized in person as I should have, but instead just sent them a letter weeks later. That eased some pain but made me feel more like a coward.

I'd been able to convince, at least as performed the procedure, that it had all been justified in the name of science. I was uncovering a scientific and even magical phenomena that had gone unanswered for a thousand generations. Perhaps it was the pride of being the first to uncover the mystery that had got to me or maybe it really was a desire for knowledge. Either way, I was lying to myself to hold back my own morality. I still hadn't gotten over that.

Which left me where I was today, writing in my daily journal with only a few creaks of mid afternoon sunlight creeping in through the drawn shades. Today was a fairly flat entry. No emotions to tie into the words. Just a recount of my progress into the study of criminal minds and the differing states of conscience between them.

Once I was finished, I rose from my desk and maneuvered out of the room, careful not to knock over any of the piles I'd haphazardly constructed wherever they needed to be. I strutted down my hallways and briefly began to fix myself some lunch in the kitchen. And it was as I ate that I was struck with an extraordinary thought in the absence of my typical mental breathers.

I realized just how utterly alone my home was! It seemed for the first time ever I'd stopped and considered just how distant this house was to me. Here I was, munching away on a sandwich, surrounded by pile after pile of my own work, with only the large building's oppressive silence to greet me.

It had been apparent to me when I'd bought the place for my own reasons that it was bigger than most in Sunset Grove but only now was I comprehending it all. I was a small stallion in a much wider world.

Had it been my pondering of the boy that had brought about this? Or simple revelation? Whichever it was, I immediately found that I didn't like the thought one bit. It sounds childish to even say this but the first temptation I had was to rush outside and see something that wasn't these high yellow walls or spanning hardwood floors. I was scared to be quite honest and upon further contemplation, it probably was my thoughts about the boy that brought such emotions.

His initial appearance had sent shock-waves through how I'd seen things and now it seemed even thinking of him brought about the same results. I must be prone to external influence more so than I thought if this was true or perhaps he had some sort of power whenever another mind did such a thing. There was no way to tell with him.

Needless to say, I was even more frightened when I heard a sudden knock against my front door, briefly followed by another. I could feel my blood run cold at the sound of it echoing down the hall. It was like a nightmare. Was this him? The postpony? A horrid amalgamation of the two?

I wanted to just stand there and wait for whatever conflict that was standing at my doorstep to pass but knew that life simply didn't work in that manner. I would have to go out and see exactly what was plaguing me. If I didn't, it would surely come back later, possibly at an even more disruptive time, such as while working. I surely could not have any of that!

I rushed along my hooves down the hallway and practically skidded to a halt in front of the door. I regretted my decision in never purchasing a peep hole in the center of it and made note to do so the next time I got a chance.

Without another thought or consideration, I threw the door open with a single thrust of my right hoof.

On Lost Time

The front door was thrown open with such force it would have clipped the edge of my forehead if I'd been just a few inches closer. Even then, I could feel the air wisp by my face as I instinctively took a step back. But there he was alright, standing in the doorway with widened eyes.

As I thought, Neuro hadn't changed much since the last time I'd seen him. His fur was still orange, he still wore his glasses along the edge of his snout, and he still had an unruly patch of stubble along his chin he never got around to shaving. However, the taken back expression, agape mouth, and lack of composition made him seem like an entirely different stallion all together.

We looked at a each other for a moment, silent as in our own inspections. It was fairly surreal. I couldn't hear a thing while we stood there, minus the distant brush of the wind through grass. Surprisingly, despite the clear disadvantage he was at, Neuro was the first to speak.

"A-A-Alistair..." he rasped out in dreamy kind of tone, "Is that...really you?"

I nodded. "It is.”

His eyes narrowed as he took a step towards me. "Your posture. You look different from the last time I saw you. If you don't mind me saying."

"Posture?" I said while looking down at myself. "I don't know what you mean."

He gravely waved the notion aside. "It's nothing. Not important now anyways. You have more important business to deal with."

"Business?" I echoed with even more confusion.

He nodded. "You're here to finish the job. I know what I did to you the last time we spoke and I know you want revenge. I don't blame you for that. But if it means anything to you, if the letter I sent didn't capture it properly, I am apologize for everything. The guilt was horrible the weeks after. I still get these painful recollections of it in the most horrid of times. I..." He shook his head and spread his front hooves outwards. "It doesn't matter anymore. Do what you must."

I had to think about everything he'd said to understand exactly what he was talking about. When I finally did I couldn't help but grin at it all. It was a stress response to things like this. I certainly wasn't making fun of him. Neuro just looked dumbfounded at it all and lowered his hooves slowly.

"What are you waiting for?" he cautiously asked. "Do what you have to. I won't scream."

I smiled my awkward grin again and I hated that that was all I could do. "I don't want to hurt you, Neuro.”

“W-What?”

“I don’t, not at all. And what silly notion implied that I did?”

He was at a loss of words and began wringing his hooves together. "I just, um, thoughy that you'd..."

"Neuro, I understood everything you said in your letter. I wholeheartedly forgive you and understand your motivation behind it. A lot has happened since the last time we've talked and to be quite honest, that fiasco at the University seems like small-fry stuff in comparison."

He blinked. "Really?"

"Of course. You apologized after it was all said and done. That's what really made it all the much better. The stuff I've been through these past few months...I never was able manage an apology.”

"What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "I made a very big mistake and only have myself to blame for it. But I really don't want to talk about that now." I gestured to the doorway. "May I come in for a moment?"

His eyes widened like we'd just met but he quickly regained himself. "S-Sure, come right in. It's the least I can offer you after however long it took you to get here."

I led the boy through my home and into my study. As I took my seat behind my desk and he in front of it, I was struck by a horrid feeling of deja vu. We'd been positioned in this exact same way when we'd spoken at the University of Canterlot. In fact, the study practically mirrored my less than organized office back there.

I took this as a bad omen and did my best to conceal my own worry. I'm not a superstitious pony in any degree, but I was truly discomforted by how similar things were feeling. We'd been here before and in the worst of ways.

However, even if the decor was similar, the boy certainly was not. He no longer had that awed expression to everything he examined. He no longer had that chipper energy that emulated off him even when he was less than composed. Alistair looked older, not in a conventional sense, more so in how he held his demeanor.

He sat there calmly with his palms resting against his knees. He casted glances around the room but not in a way seemed enchanted by it. There was no surprise to the observations, just a polite examination to my personal decorating style of academic messiness.

There was also something with his eyes. They were rugged, mellowed, with their energetic fire receded dramatically. He'd seen and felt a lot since I'd last seen him, none of which was all that positive from the looks of it.

In short, he looked like an elder in a child's body. When he spoke there were remnants of his former self, but whenever he was quiet for only a few moments, I could help but miss the peppy child I'd come to appreciate.

"So...how are you?" I opened up the best I could.

He made a shaky motion with his hand. "I'm alright. The train ride from Canterlot to here was longer than I'd been expecting. I was able to keep myself busy on the way over but things were pretty quiet. I had an entire car to myself."

I nodded. "You're looking good after the trip. Five hours on a train journey tends to wear most ponies out. But you mentioned you came from Canterlot? You're living there now I presume?"

He smiled meekly and I knew right then I stepped on something I shouldn't. "I did have a house there for a time, while I worked at External Affairs. But these past few weeks it was just temporary."

Alistair had discreetly left out any mention of his first home in Ponyville. I assumed he did so for good reason and I decided not to pursue it no matter how curious I was. Instead, I followed with a different question. "You were a diplomat?"

"Yep. I made regular trips to the Vile Stretch and even had a very special assignment to the Griffon Kingdom once. The job gave me something to do but I never fell in love with it."

"Did you resign?"

"In a way. I just sort of left. In the end I think it was what I wanted."

I nodded again. "Well, I'm happy to hear you were able to branch out with your independence. It's impressive you were able to land such a job at your age."

"It wasn't really," he gestured to his bipedal physique. "I've found that no one considers your age when you look like I do. I think they actually wanted it. In trade talks that last for hours people typically pay a lot more attention to a race that's only got one member."

Was that humor? He slightly grinned while he said it. He would have made it much more obvious two years ago, maybe would have even laughed after saying it.

"And what have you been doing since you left?"

"N-Nothing much," he said with a slight stir in his seat. "I bounced around a bit. Traveled here and there. I came back to Canterlot after everything had been cleaned up." Alistair paused for a moment and looked around the room for a nervous minute. "But how have you been doing since last time around? I'm sure it's been much more interesting."

I shrugged. "I helped out at a research base up north. It mostly involved gauging ice shelf age while occasionally coming across some minor archaeological oddity. After a few months I returned to the University and just continued with my typical activities. To be quite honest, not much has changed."

"Really?" he responded with a grin. "A renaissance stallion such as yourself didn't have any other adventures? I'm sure something really cool happened."

To be honest I partly wished the same thing. It struck me as a surprise that, with all my years of travel, I never had the same amount of excitement I'd experienced when initially meeting with the boy. I never would have known it would be the high watermark of my career, but the longer time passed, the more likely that seemed to be.

I shook my head. "I've kept things mild since we last spoke. The arctic trip was just my way of getting some closure. Other than that there really wasn’t anything noteworthy."

He nodded but didn't say anything. We stared at each other for brief moment, like when I'd first opened the door. Just what the heck was going on? Why now? Why here? How'd he even find me? So many questions and I wasn't asking them. How out of character for me.

"Alistair," I said finally, with a tenderness to my words, "if you don’t mind me asking, just why are you here exactly?"

He seemed to have been expecting the question and only shrugged. "Neuro, I really don't know. There's not many options left to me at this point. I don't want to go back to my job, my friends have moved on and I don’t really have a place to call my own. You're right that my independence is branching out but I don't have a clue on what to do with it. I'm not sure what I’m supposed to do with myself and you're the closest thing I have to a friend that I can actually talk to, which is ironic considering the circumstances. But...it's true."

I pursed my lip. "What did have in mind when you came here?”

His cheeks blushed and he glanced sheepishly toward the floor. "I was hoping you could give me a job or something. I thought you might need some help with whatever you do all the way out here. You wouldn't have to pay me or anything. I just...want to have something meaningful to do…”

He was partly right. There were odd jobs and regular maintenance I needed in a house this size. I'd been neglecting to complete most of them to stay on top of my work schedule. It would be quite handy to have another soul in at least a one mile radius, better yet one who was willing to work.

Still, I was more surprised with his word choice than anything he'd offered. "Friend?" I echoed. "Are you considering me one?"

A small grin stretched across his face. "If there's one thing I've learned in these two years is that you can never be picky when it comes to who you associate yourself with, especially when you have a history. We didn't get to know each other that much on a personal level last time around but I wouldn't mind changing that now."

He held out his hand to me. "What do you say, Neuro?"

I'm embarrassed to say I drew an absolute blank. I had no idea how to respond to the casual offer and found myself staring dully at him, my eyes like glass orbs. He didn't seem fazed by it though, he just kept on smiling, optimism unshakeable. He looked just like his little old self...

I took his hand and shook it. His face brightened. I felt my own do the same.

Distance to be Crossed

What followed the next few days was a massive blur of activity. Wherever a job needed doing, I was there beforehand to do whatever was necessary. Broken drawer? Glue and nails. Dusty floor? Broom and pan. Rotten food? Garbage and gloves. But what most caught my attention was the level of care Neuro had given to his living space in terms of neatness. That is to say, none at all.

It was almost breathtaking how messy he kept his living quarters. Not only in the stagnant grime that crusted along the most unusual of places, more so, the absolute disregard for order or organization in the massive home he inhabited. Books and papers were stacked and thrown every which way, dirty dishes lie scattered about, nothing looked properly vacuumed and don't get me started on his dusting!

Needless to say, Neuro had constructed a challenge for me to undertake. And by the end of my stay here, no matter how long it was, I will have this domain tamed.

I started small. Everything I could find was organized into piles of similar items. Any object that looked like trash I immediately tossed. The items of seeming usefulness were then divided into groups of similar attributes. Books, writing utensils, papers, folders, binders, dishes, scarfs, degraded inkwells, stampers, stamps, boots, forks, bowls, and a shiny pocket watch.

Once I divided everything I found a few boxes in a nearby closet and carefully placed the objects into them. Neuro would be able to decide just what to do with them. But for now...

I paced around the kitchen I'd just cleared out and pondered just what to do from here. There of course was more work to be done around this near mansion of a home. Neuro was following his cycle of morning work in his study. He'd be thoroughly surprised of my progress in the kitchen and main atrium instead of my typical work upstairs.

Overall, I was fairly impressed with the progress I'd made in the short time. My energetic fervor had propelled me to clean and fix whatever I could find, and I felt a welcoming sense of satisfaction every time I did it. For the first time in a long time, I was in control of something. Perhaps it wasn't the the most important things in the world but it stilled mattered...to me.

I had Neuro's study room door open and heard his clicking hooves down the hallway long before he entered the room. He regarded my hard work with a raised eyebrows as he walked among it.

"Alistair," he declared in subdued exclamation, "this is quite impressive. I would have thought you'd be hung up all day with the kitchen. I'm surprised you completed it so quickly."

I smiled proudly. "I just got into the work."

"I'm glad you did. I'll admit I'm not the best at keeping on top of housework. In fact, I'm downright awful with it. I'm sorry if I seemed a bit careless in giving you this much to fret about."

"Fooey," I said waving the sentiment aside. "It's been awhile since I've got to work with my hands. I forgot how much fun it could be."

He maneuvered through the kitchen as if the clutter was still present (force of habit I guess) and opened up the refrigerator I'd taken the time to give a good once over. Taking a bottle of water, he responded once he'd taken a few sips.

"We haven't had much chance to talk since you arrived."

I shrugged. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" he said behind a pursed lip. "You came all this way just to visit with you and I've barely given you the time of day. It doesn't seem all that fair on my part if you don't mind me saying."

"Keep in mind that you weren't expecting me coming in the first place. I didn't even send you a letter for goodness sakes. If you'd been anypony else the door probably would or should have been slammed in my face. Hospitality normally isn't that far-reaching if you know what I mean."

Neuro eyed me closely for a moment, his hoof placed in through across his chin. I got the sudden feeling he was observing some behavior or speech pattern I was inadvertently displaying. It was only for a split second but I was still discomforted by the expression that he held.

Chuckling, he wandered over to the kitchen table and sat down. "I don't think most ponies would turn away someone like yourself if they ever appeared at their doorstep. But the fact of your surprise visit shouldn't be justification for me not spending time with you. I want to do something with you."

"That being?"

"I'm not sure, not yet at least. I unfortunately still have some work to take care of at the moment but from then I'll be entirely open until my next trip to the University."

"And when would that be?"

"Give or take four days. You could come with me if you'd like. I would appreciate the help in carrying my things to the station."

That was both an appealing and appalling deal. I wouldn't mind doing something productive to keep my mind busy but going back to Canterlot would open an entirely new can of trouble I'd been trying to avoid coming here in the first place. Something told me I'd more than likely pick the trip to Canterlot over scratching around all by myself in this giant house, however, I prayed that wouldn't be the case.

But I really just wanted him to leave entirely and let me get back to work. My stride was being broken by this lapse in activity and I could feel the self-imposed clouds in my mind begin to break. I needed to bring them back, I needed them to shield me in a place like this. Giving a quickened response, I said:

"I'll consider it."

"Please, do so. I'd appreciate the company." He glanced at the room's wall clock and straightened himself out of his chair. "Now if you'd excuse me, I need to get back to work. We can talk later."

And just as quickly as he'd entered the room, he was already behind the corner back in his office. I wordlessly got back to cleaning, very much relieved at his exit.

The first thing that came to mind once I got back to my rough outline on the connection between differing air pressures and brain electricity was how I'd spoken to Alistair on every sentence through every word. I was concerned that I'd come off a bit cold in our brief exchange and fretted that I may have disappointed him in some regard.

True, my typical mannerisms had been through to the wind the first day he was here (absolute shock tended to do that), but now that I was back in control it seemed he wasn't warming up to my outward facade.

I'll admit it is a bad habit of sorts but one that dictates my authority much better than my normal persona. I'm always aware of when I act in this way, as one could tell in the difference between my demeanor and my own thoughts. It's just connecting the two, especially after staying in this state for so long, that proves to be much more difficult.

If I'd been observing myself as a psychologist I probably would have attached some sort of label or title to this predicament. Thankfully, that was not the case and I continue to focus on the important task at hand.

Alistair's visit was proving to be an unexpected gift in so many ways. That creeping vertigo of my own home I'd experienced earlier was being put at bay by the added liveliness. He wasn't a rambunctious young man in both of the instances we met. More so, the mere presence of another soul gave me an indescribable amount of closure when moving between the halls, especially at night.

Again, I was starting to realize the discomfort I felt in this home alone. The many corners, corridors, rooms and windows was much too large for any one pony. Add that with the history this massive near-mansion held, and I was close to living in something of a horror movie.

But the boy still seemed unsure about his current standing. I knew I'd need to be much more gentle with him than I typically acted and I took note to display that added warmness the next we spoke. Besides that, however, he still appeared distracted by something.

My best guess was that it was something pertaining to where he'd been these past two years. I had purposely distanced myself to any news story or article pertaining to his exploits after we'd spoken. I didn't desire to be reminded of my involvement with him or feel the crushing void of guilt that gnawed away at my insides.

Which meant I'd have to start with little research on exactly what he'd been doing for so long. He'd glazed over the details a few days prior but I sensed he'd been keeping the information vague for a reason. Interesting...

I immediately got to work on writing an express letter to the University's Library for as much archived information they had on Alistair and anything relevant to his exploits. I'd retrieve whatever they sent me covertly from my deposit box in town. It'd be real quiet, with the boy being none the wiser.

This wasn't a repeat of what happened last time. It was a simple fact finding job. No one was going to get hurt and no one was going to be aware of it. I just wanted to know a little bit more about him, that was all. He'd be safe this time. I promised myself that.

Grey Horizons

The sun shone brightly down upon the forested treeline, with only a few slivers of direct light poking their way through. The dirt path beneath both Neuro and myself kept it's tried texture that matched almost that of sand. It hadn't rained for nearly two weeks but the air pressure was stagnant in the air, giving hint that rain would arrive in the approaching days.

We walked beside one another. Neuro with his eyes trained directly down the narrow road, while my own observed the forested woods that encroached so closely onto the path, the branches were practically touching us. I turned to Neuro.

"I don't think I like this shortcut."

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hold a fondness for nature?"

"In most cases, yes. But the path is practically overgrown with trees. I can't imagine trying to take this way at night all by yourself. With the moonlight blocked out it'd be liked being in a cave."

"Then we'd bring a lantern to substantiate. I ensure you, there are no monsters in these woods."

Although I believed that it didn't put my mind every well at ease. Even in the afternoon light it was more difficult than it should have been to navigate this way. Mix that Neuro's mildly patronizing comment and I was even more alert of what may or may not happen.

And he seemed to sense this, adding with a bit more warmness to his voice than usual: "But I promise we won't take this way when we go back to the house. It still isn't safe to travel at night, monsters or no."

I shivered. "Why do we even have to take it now? The main road would still get us into to town."

"But the main road would take us at least another hour of walking. Since the post office closes at six we certainly wouldn't get there in time."

He had a point. One that I didn't like but had to agree with. I'd grown so used to the conveniences more populated towns brought I hadn't even considered that wouldn't be the case in a town like Sunset Grove, where miles instead of yards separated the next house. Granted, I still remember the conveniences of not having to worry about mail entirely, but that was a story for another day.

After a few more minutes of walking we finally arrived in what I presumed was considered the town square. By that it was a post office, three stores, a meeting hall, and the train station I'd arrived from just down the ways. The forest surrounded the patch of civilization, with a dirt clearing providing the wall between it and the wilderness.

Neuro turned to me. "This will only take a few minutes. I will return shortly."

He strolled into the post office, leaving me to stand absently out front. As you'd expect for a town like this, there wasn't much of notice going on from what I could tell. All I could hear was the brushing of wind through the trees, and all I could see was an elderly looking colt sleeping on the front porch of one of the stores.

What interested me was the vendor's cart that stood by where he sat. Taking the initiative to be social for a change, I walked towards him.

"Excuse me?" I said softly to get his attention. "Excuse me, sir?"

His eyes slowly cracked open and he regarded me with a dreamy look of half-consciousness. I gestured to the cart. "Is this your cart?"

He looked to me, to the cart, back to me, and back to the cart. "Yes..." he said after a short bit of thought. "Is there something you need?"

I gestured to the cart again. "I'd like to buy whatever you're selling."

I licked the edges of his lips and gingerly nodded. "Of course...let me just..." what followed was at least two minutes of the gray colt rising from the bench he was resting on. The entire time I was legitimately worried his bones were going to snap any moment.

But he managed to get to his hooves and stepped at a similar pace over to the cart. Unlocking a few of its drawers he said: "What do you want."

I shrugged. "What do you have?"

He had to think about this a moment while glancing through the wide selection he appeared to have. "Well...there's hay funnel cakes, grilled flowers with grass, fried oats, and popcorn."

"Popcorn," I answered immediately, my disdain for Equestrian 'cuisine' holding true for all these years.

With his shaky hooves, he served the popcorn into a small paper bag and handed it to me. I slid him three bits and began to eat my food.

"Thank you very much, lad," the ancient pony said while pocketing the exchange.. "Your the first customer I've had all this afternoon."

"Is business typically those slow?"

"Depends on what day it is. Most of my sales come from ponies just passing through on the train to the coast. Other than that it's only when the local folks come down to pick up supplies from Snake Oil's general store."

My brow furrowed. "Snake Oil?"

The old pony smiled. "Her name's the only part that's got bite. She's a very nice mare, very sweet. None her since we were just foals." His smiled deepened in distant reminiscence, until it gradually diminished to query. "Excuse me, but my ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have I met you before? I don't recognize your voice very well."

"I don't believe we have. I'm from out of town, living with a friend for the time being." I paused at the next part. "My name's Alistair."

I was expecting immediate shock at his realization of talking to a creature such as myself. It had been a bit off that he didn't react all that strangely to our conversation, but I assumed just nearsighted. Could he actually be blind?

"Alistair," he tested the word. "Are you that young man I've seen in the paper before? The one who lived with--"

"Yes," I cut in before he could finish. "I am. I'm sorry for not introducing myself sooner."

"No, no, it's fine. I understand. It's hard talking with the new ponies. Especially when you...look the way you do. Who's the friend you're staying with? I may know them."

"Professor Paraprax, the psychologist. I'm working for him."

Something crossed into the old colt's glassy eyes. Distrust? Annoyance? Anger? It was hard to tell behind all those wrinkles but it didn't look like anything positive.

"The professor...interesting. That stallion always struck me as an odd sort of fellow. Odd that he'd have a young man like yourself staying with him..."

"We've met each other before," I responded quickly. "It's been awhile since we last saw each other so I thought I'd pay him a visit."

The colt didn't look very convinced. "I don't know. I'm not quite sure what to make of him. If I were you, I'd watch myself around that pony. He's a strange one, especially with him deciding to live in--"

"Alistair!" Neuro called from outside the post office. "Let's get going. It's almost nightfall."

"Coming!" I shouted back and began towards him.

"Remember what I said," the old colt whispered just enough for me to hear. "Watch yourself."

5 minutes earlier...

I entered the post office without another glance to Alistair. I knew he'd be able to look after himself without any shenanigans. He was quite mature for however old he was and didn't need me looking over his shoulder every minute of the day.

Still, it occurred to me just as the door closed behind that perhaps he could have taken that the wrong way. Not making sure he was still there with a simple glance made me seem much more inconsiderate to his plight, like I simply didn't care about whatever happened to him. Perhaps it was just paranoid reasoning but I sighed at the missed opportunity to show him that I was on his side.

The office was as it always was. Not another soul in sight except for the friendly looking yellow mare behind the counter, her courier's cap placed loosely atop her cream colored mare. Her appearance reminded me of my secretary back at the University, Honey Dew, minus the solid Manehattan accent that stung the ears.

"Hello, Professor Paraprax," she greeted with a chipper smile as I approached the counter. "Do you need something today."

I simply nodded my head at her greeting and unfurled my list from my saddlebag. "I'm here to pick up a few items, Ms. Ray." I slid the list across the counter and into her kiosk. "I believe you'll find everything in proper order."

She took the list and scanned over the contents. She looked up at me with moderate surprise. "This is certainly different from your usual orders from Canterlot."

"Important research," I said dryly.

Undeterred, she slid me a signing sheet which I scribbled my signature down onto while she went around back to where my things were being stored. When she came back, I handed her the sheet while she organized the several sealed envelopes and boxes into a bag. Unfortunately for me, she tried to make conversation.

"Any big projects your working on? Any new discoveries?"

"I haven't been visiting the University has frequently as I would in the Fall or Winter. My work as of recent mostly deals in literary reports and editing other such works. Nothing quite groundbreaking."

"Then is there anything happening in Canterlot? You still do visit from time to time, right?"

I regarded her calmly with a raised eyebrow. "I believe you can read about this in the newspaper."

She smiled further. "Yes, but not from an insider such as yourself. You've actually been there which is much more than the newspaper can cover. The stories always shift around so much, they never focus on what I really want to know."

I sighed. "Things are still under construction. The important municipal buildings are nearing completion but the residential areas still need a sizable amount of work. The University sustained only minor damages to the property. We were back in action in under a week."

She finished packing my things. "Here you are," she chirped sweetly. "Shipped from the express train just this morning. It must have cost a pretty penny to get it here so lickety split."

"It's a cost I'm willing to pay. Now, if you'd excuse me Ms. Ray, I must be on my way."

I ducked out of the office and back into the approaching dusk of outside. I was relieved to be out of that confining office with that talkative pony. She always was so pushy with conversation and I never quite knew how to respond to it. In the end, I'd survived another round, with only my next trip inside presenting my biggest struggle of the week.

Speaking of struggles, where was Alistair? I'd been inside for only a few minutes. Just where had he--

There, by that store, talking with some ancient pony. One of the grizzled locals in this hamlet and by the looks of the glance he cast me, was the kind that didn't like me living here. And he was speaking with the boy...

"Alistair!" I yelled to him. "Let's get going. It's almost nightfall."

The two exchanged a few more words until he came sprinting back over to me, an odd expression on his face.

Better Left Buried

By the time we got back to the house it was just at the cusp of downpouring. Thunder already boomed in the distance and as we stepped in through the front door a flash of lightning jolted through the sky. Soon, it would be downpouring, and we had just missed it by the skin of our teeth.

Neuro promptly retired to his office with that odd box of envelopes, leaving me to stand in the front hallway while the rain picked up outside. It was late but not too late. I still had work that needed doing, granted, work done upon my own digression. Not once had Neuro actually told me to clean what needed cleaning or fix what needed fixing. He didn't need to. I was content in doing something that kept my mind and hands busy, with the Neuro paying me and letting me temporary live here just an added bonus.

I ascended the staircase up to the second floor and unconsciously began to wander. This had been where I'd started in my masterful sweep of the entire mansion-like house. Not a surface remained undusted, not a carpet was unvacuumed, and not a single trace of clutter remained after my work was through.

Despite all this, there was only so much I could do with the place. The walls themselves were painted a drab yellow color with the brightness almost entirely faded. The hallway laps didn't have the brightest bulbs and the carpets appeared from the last century if not more. If I didn't know better, I would have said this place was haunted.

But I knew that clearly wasn't so. I'd trekked through the halls of a much darker place in a much darker land, and not once had I encountered something even resembling a specter.

No, this was just an old house in need of some drastic repairs. And whether Neuro would actually get them was left up to him, but I prayed he would sometime soon. These empty halls still gave me the chills.

There were so many rooms, more so than what would have been necessary for two people at a time. Other bedrooms, drawing rooms, sitting rooms, unused studies. It seemed that Neuro primarily dwelt on the building's ground floor, with only the occasional trek up here to retrieve the something he'd left up here in storage.

I'd also been aware that there was another floor above this own, an even more deprecated third floor that I don't even think Neuro had traversed. The spiral staircase that led up there was covertly hidden behind a door that seemed as if it led to just another room in the corridor but in reality ascended to this mysterious realm of the house.

I had come across it during my initial sweep of the floor but only noted it in passing. After that colt's warning however, I was a bit more suspicious as to its whereabouts. Perhaps he was just a crazy old goat jumping at shadows. But as the circumstances were reminding me, Neuro was very good at keeping his motives secret. And if there was a completely unused section of the house, then why?

The door opened without a sound and I clunked up the dizzying metal cylinder without a second thought. When I reached the top I found myself in an even smaller corridor, with only a white door in front of me and two windows off to my sides. There wasn't a single light in the small room, with only the occasional flash of lightning illuminating it entirely.

As I stepped toward the door I could see that there was a padlock placed over the deadbolt, recently installed by the look of it. A boom of thunder sounded in the distance followed by a flash of lightning. Something was afoot.

I didn't have a lockpick to jangle the lock open and getting a pair of bolt cutters from downstairs would be too obvious if Neuro saw me. Thankfully, I needed neither.

Focusing the magic to my palms, I produced a single steady stream of energy from the tip of my index finger. I brought the small aura of bright blue light to the lock and gradually burnt through the hardened steel. After just a few moments, the lock snapped off and jangled to the floor, prompting me to immediately dissipate the energy. I was in.

The door swung open almost on its own, with its ill-oiled hinges creaking with each inch forward. "You can do this," I mumbled to myself and stepped inside.

The room was entirely bare. No furniture, no carpets, no lights. Wide windows were across each side with wispy curtains sitting idly. There were heavy scratches marks against the bare wood, as if something heavy had been moved quite some time ago. There was a set of pull-away doors at the end of the room, almost shrouded by the ambient shadows.

I approached them, stopping just shy of the aged metal knobs to open it. What would I find behind them? A body? Stolen jewels? Secret documents? A body? Nothing? I both wanted and didn't want to know exactly what lied inside, but I already knew I didn't have a choice. I'd eventually come back up sooner or later to discover the secret. Might as well do it now.

Reaching forward, I placed both my palms against the handles and thrust the closet open in a single swoop. But there wasn't a body inside, or stolen jewels, or secret documents, or even nothing. Instead, there was a simply wooden trunk, setting inside the vacant closet.

It wasn't locked. It wasn't latched. It lacked dust along its top but looked as old as any other item in the house. I stared at it for a long moment, contemplating just what to do with it. Lightning flashed outside.

As if in a dream, I rested my hands against the icy wooden top and gradually pulled it open.

I was confused at first by the contents, then surprised, then shocked. I found my hands were now trembling and the chest's lid slammed to floor as it slipped from my fingers.

I gulped. Swallowed the anxiety, the fear, the distortion. I felt a familiar rage creep into my veins, a power I had long since believed would never been experienced again. I could feel my disposition change, the darkness creeping around my very being once again.

Neuro had a lot to answer for, whether he wanted to or not. Taking a handful of what was inside the chest, I turned to leave, fire coursing through my spirit. I would make him suffer.

A majority of the collected files weren't all that interesting. Most were newspaper articles I'd already read or knew the gist of. Others were editorials of what had happened, more so glorified conspiracies trying to offer some sort of explanation of just what had happened in Canterlot two months ago.

To any outside observer one could tell that the media didn't have a clue. A college degree wasn't necessary to tell when ponies were grabbing for straws. But if one counter-referenced a few of these articles, if one pieced together enough firsthand accounts, if one had some friends in the Sun Guard, one could get a bit clearer of a picture.

Which was exactly as I was getting. The murky details were starting to reveal themselves. From all my work in just this past hour I was already forming a straight story.

Canterlot and any other settlement from the Crescent Isle onwards was fired upon by a fleet of ships dubbed 'Air Destroyers'. From outside observation (and a few blurry photographs) they appeared much better armored than the typical air galleys the Sun Guard used. On top of this, their armaments held much heftier of a punch in comparison to other ordinance cannons.

But there was a reason to these more advanced ships. Most accounts stated a fleet of only five of these ships, with only three or four air galleys providing an escort role. The offensive force was clearly not as numerous as the Equestrian Fleet and seemed to realize this in how they had positioned themselves: a closely formed flight pattern that offered the ultimate protection from close or long distance attack.

What presented a bigger query was how the ships had been able to slip onto the main continent without being spotted until they had unleashed their fury. This implied a cloaking device or invisibility spell. The first option alluding to a technologically advanced group, with the second alluding to a band of skilled sorcerers.

But if this was the case, why had they used mechanized battle craft in the first place? If they possessed such resources, why make their attack so apparent? It was risky enough insinuating a battle on the mainland, better yet over the capitol itself. What was the motive? What was the logic? That still remained a mystery to me and was proving to be much more difficult than anything else.

And then the battle had stopped and the ships had went into a sudden retreat, disappearing through the clouds as quickly as they had arrived. Not a single ship had been lost on their side, without trace of their presence left behind minus the destruction they'd wrought. That was where things truly stopped making sense...except for one thing.

A contact we had in the University, an old guard pony going by the name 'Steel Cuff' had been able to tell a very interesting account of the battle.

According to him, just minutes before the Destroyers began to retreat, a single air galley had boarded the forward-most ship. It was the largest and most menacing of the fleet, giving hint to it serving the role as a capital ship for the fleet. What was the most interesting about this was not of the ship's proportions and the unlikelihood of single galley evading its defenses, but who was actually aboard the light craft. Records suggested it was none other than Princess Twilight herself.

She'd been without an escort and only the operating crew of the galley accompanying her, implying that a traditional ship boarding had not been in mind. From there, red and purple lights could be seen flashing from atop the ship's deck, with crackles of electricity rivaling even that of lightening bolts being heard from as far as the city's outskirts.

What perturbed me was why had a more formidable opponent, namely Princess Celestia, not been the one to directly attack the Destroyer in this surprise encounter. Clearly she was the more powerful between the two. Unless...unless it had been her sister aboard the ship.

No, impossible. Although Luna had disappeared weeks prior, the energy seen from the sky did not match signatures of either her or her twisted doppelganger, Nightmare Moon. The theory of her responsibility in the attack had been tossed around a considerable length, but in no way could the timing of her disappearance match up the amount of preparation this mysterious group had invested.

And then it occurred to me, like a sudden flash of clarity as the pieces quickly assembled. I'd requested this information to form a suspicion I'd been unconsciously rolling over in my mind, and until now did it all seem apparent. I understood everything.

Alistair's year long disappearance offered a perfect time-span for this group to prepare themselves for war. Prior knowledge pointed to his favorable use of electricity in his spells and the fact that Twilight Sparkle's involvement followed by the sudden retreat gave hint to their prior connection with one another. If this was all true...who was the young man I'd willingly invited into my home?

A hostile knocking, more so slamming, came against my office door. Before I could even flinch, the door swung open and Alistair came storming into my office, a red aura of energy trailing him He was clutching something in his right hand.

With poisoned hate dripping from his words, he hissed: "We need to talk."

The Deepest Wounds

I scrambled out of my seat and raised my hooves to the air in an act of surrender. Alistair stood a few paces away, the hissing red aura around him encasing his figure around the edges. Pointing an accusatory finger in my direction, still clutching the mystery object in his right hand, he began towards me at a prowler's pace.

"You have a lot to answer for," he declared in a twisted voice that wasn't quite his own. "I let my guard down. I thought I could trust you. And this is how you repay me?"

My blood had already frozen in place the moment he'd entered my office but I was surprised to find that my muscles still functioned to a point. I instinctively stepped back with each step he took, hoping that he wouldn't do anything brash until I could calm him down. To my dismay, my jaw wasn't as working as well as my hooves.

I stammered helplessly in attempt to form a coherent sentence. This only seemed to enrage him more as evidenced by the red aura become more prominent and darker.

"Speak," he demanded. "Or I’ll tear the words from you myself.”

With a gulp of some much needed air I could finally feel words begin to form. "I...I d-don't know what you mean..."

His eyes flared up in outrage. "Don't know what I mean? Here, let me jog your memory."

My body tensed up in preparation of him hurting me but he only unfurled his hand and tossed the object onto my desk. I couldn't quite make it out from how gruffly he'd thrown it but it appeared to be a clothing item of some sort. It was white and ornate, with frilly lining around the seams. Formal wear from at least two centuries ago. It was wrinkled and dusty in appearance with a peculiar shape designed for...oh dear...

Alistair sensed my realization and spoke to me in mocking sarcasm. "So, Professor Paraprax, based on your fantastic amount of knowledge on this subject, and with your swelling interest in matters that aren't any of your business, care to explain to me just what this might be?"

I didn't want to play into his game but I clearly didn't have a choice. Without a second thought he might murder me right where I stand and not be the least bit concerned. I'd never been this afraid in my entire life. Swallowing nervously, I answered. "It's...it's a glove."

His eyes widened in feigned surprise. "A glove? Really? But how could that be? Ponies can't wear gloves, only griffons. And I don't think any griffons have ever lived in Sunset Grove, Neuro, especially not in this old house." He clenched his fists and took a few more steps toward me, I took a few steps back toward the wall.

"Which means that it more than likely belonged to someone else. Tailors have of course made these pieces before, but typically for extraordinary clientele if you get what I'm implying." He took another step forward, I tried to step back but found I was now hopelessly up against the wall.

He smiled at my being trapped. "Care to explain?"

"Skip Stop," I said with my eyes shamefully pointed toward the floor. "She...she lived here, in this house, before she...you know, all those years ago. I bought the house from the old owner, this ancient colt from in town who I don't think was very fond of me doing so. From there, I moved in, set up shop, and this became my Spring, soon to be Summer house."

Alistair's eyes narrowed in query and he stopped coming towards me. "And you knew she lived here? Is that why you chose this place, is that why you let me stay?"

I sighed. My motives had never been put into question when I'd done the transaction, just my mere presence disapproved of. Nobody knew me as Alistair did, who'd had the unfortunate situation of becoming first acquainted with my dark side instead of my positive one (if I even had one at this point).

There was betrayal mixed in with his fiery rage that was starting to subside. Alistair knew how interested I was in his people and how far I was willing to go to uncover more about the mysterious race. Perhaps he'd assumed I would have abandoned this pursuit of knowledge in shame which had probably been some kind of solstice to him. But now?

Alistair said he'd forgiven for everything that had happened two years prior between us, but this reopening of old wounds might just make him retract that compassion.

I violently shook my head. "No, no! Nothing like that. It was just...a coincidence. It was a nice feature, an interesting accessory to the place. I came here looking for a comfortable place to stay awhile, that's all. And once I knew the history...how could I resist?"

The honesty took him off balance a bit and may have even lessened the energy simmering off him (which was now almost entirely gone). Still, with growing exasperation, he brought his hands to his head and shouted.

"What is wrong with!? For goodness sakes, what is wrong with you!? Do you even have a memory? Don't you even have shame? I'd thought you'd be over this obsession of yours. You sounded so regretful in your letter and when we first talked, and now, just a week later, you're acting like it all never happened! Where you lying, where you always lying?!"

"I wasn't!" I shouted back. "I was just...reminded of it when you came. I swear I only went up there a few times. Just to look at the clothes, never to touch them. It was history right in front of my eyes so I of course wanted to look upon it. There was no malicious intent behind it. But when you came here in no way did I want to give you that impression. So I locked the door and hoped you wouldn't check what was behind. But evidently, I was wrong."

He shook his head dismally while a new aura of red energy formed in the palm of his left hand. "You're one messed up pony, Neuro. One really sick colt. I'm not sure if you've gotten a few screws loosened in that big brain of yours but I think you really don't care about who or what you step over in these little games of yours. It's about time that changes." He began at a stride towards me, the energy growing in intensity.

I wasn't sure if he meant to intimidate me or actually intended to harm, but one's wish for self-preservation always holds priority. I had no way to defend myself through conventional means, leaving me to resort to a lower set of tactics.

"You'd do that even after all the ponies you've hurt?" I said suddenly.

I took a step back in surprise, something dropping into the pit of my stomach. "W-What?"

Neuro now began approaching me with an expression of maliciousness and accusation that I held just a minute ago. "I know where you really where during the attacks. I know of your involvement with that group. And I know the real reason why you came here in the first place. So if you want to talk about lies between us, go ahead. The ones you hold are much more distressing."

The color drained from my face. How did know? How did he find out? It was all supposed to be a secret and he definitely wasn't a pony with priority in knowing the truth. He must have figured it out himself, deciphered the miniscule clues that slipped under the radar. He always was a crafty snake but he really was taking me off guard.

I felt like I was about to keel over from what he'd just said. My head was dizzy, more blood was turning ice cold. He hadn't said it outright, didn't bring up any examples, but I would argue that the indirectness actually made it worse.

The energy of rage and passion left me in an instant. I was cut off from my protective emotional barrier. I was at his mercy of whatever he said, with no way to shield myself from the indescribable pain.

"Do you know how many ponies died? Most were civilians you know, not even half of your casualties were Sun Guards. They were innocent ponies going about their business until giant warships were slaughtering them by the dozens for no reason other than you wanted to make some kind of twisted statement."

"Not even that, some ponies still don't have a home, some ponies are still mourning someone who was killed in Canterlot or in the surrounding villages. You can still see the scorch marks on buildings or craters left in the streets. I've been there. I was there just after your coward friends disappeared into oblivion and you threw yourself into the Royal pardon you knew you'd get."

"So if you want to paint me as the villain, go ahead. Maybe I do have my own faults to atone to, but I've never murdered another soul, never. And you certainly can't say the same you monster."

The world seemed to faze out from my perspective, the ridges around my vision turning into a black tunnel that became darker and darker. It was like I was walking awake in a dream. I felt so numb, so lifeless in my own body. Neuro's words had cut deep and the wounds were only starting to form.

I didn't want to look at him, or this room, or even this damn house any longer. I was done with it all. Once again I'd stuck myself out on the line, leaving myself vulnerable in attempt to heal my fragile state and I was only treated to deeper scarring open my glass emotions. It was so pointless and useless, but I was repeating it all the same.

I reached for the door and stumbled out into the hallway like a dazed drunkard. I knew were my room was on the first floor and I knew were my things were packed. It would only take a moment to prepare myself for one more departure. I was leaving this vile realm once and for all.

Off to the Unknown

I was legitimately in shock from what had transpired in the past few minutes. To call my startled nerves I simply sat in my office, the door still left wide open from where Alistair had stormed out. There was a subconscious hope in my mind that if I stayed here long enough, if I spaced myself from Alistair from just the right time, all would be resolved between us from this night.

I understood him well enough to predict the majority of his actions. He'd cool down eventually, open his mind up to logical persuasion and once that happened surely I could tempt him back into a state of understanding. It wasn't backhanded or anything, I just was very good at calming certain people down. And to do that you had to comprehend just how those people would act in such situations. Kind of like an experiment with trial and error.

But at that exact moment I heard a familiar set of feet bang their way down the stairs and promptly heard the open, then slam shut without a word. Alright, I wasn't predicting him to go outside, especially in the storm that was still raging outside. The downpour itself wouldn't be harmful to anyone, but the lightening however...

I straightened myself out of my chair and dashed down the hallway to the front door. Throwing it open, I shouted out to Alistair over the raging wind and thunder.

"Alistair!" I shouted with cupped hooves. "Where are you!?!"

No response.

"Alistair! You need to come back inside, it's not safe out here!"

Nothing.

"Alistair!"

It was apparent that he wasn't going to respond. I was going to have to go out into this raging monsoon and find him myself. I had no idea if he'd even listen to me or try to harm me with that magic of his but at the moment it was the only option I had available. Stepping off the front stoop, I closed the front door behind me and trudged off into the pouring rain.

I was practically blind. Rain and wind peppered me from all directions. The darkened clouds made the night blacker than normal and the crashes of thunder and lightening only served disorient me more. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid. However, I had more important things to focus on, things fear wouldn't be able to overcome.

After a few minutes of blindly searching I caught a glimpse of movement in the distance. I trotted towards it, my hooves caked with mud and my fur entirely drenched. The chill of the wind was starting to bother me, sickness would no doubt come in a few days time. I kept on moving towards the flicker of something I assumed was there.

And there he was, his back to me, clutching both his suitcases in each hand, moving through the muck with a bit more efficiency than me. I considered reaching out to him to get his attention but immediately decided against it. He was reactive, very moody at the moment. One wrong notion in he might turn me to dust right where I stood. I'd need to be a little less direct with him. Hopefully, he'd be comfortable with that.

"Alistair!" I shouted just a few yards away, prompting him to turn around and face me.

He glared at me and put both suitcases down. "What the heck do you want?" he snarled. "Gonna try and convince me to come back? Think I'm that stupid?"

"No," I had to shout over the rain. "I came to say I was sorry. It was wrong for me to say that to you. I was scared of what you'd do if you didn't calm down. It was the only thing I could do to defend myself. I never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah, I sure believe that. Only the twenty other times you've said that. I'm done playing this game, Neuro. I'm done with this, all of it."

"What?" I said in legitimate confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

He took a step towards, his face a mess of anger and despair. "I'm leaving, Nero. I'm done with this realm. I thought it was paradise when I first laid eyes on it, but now, after everything I've been through, it just seems like the opposite. I'm gonna find a nice, quiet place to perform the spell and then I'll be gone by morning. You, and everypony else in Equestria, won't have to worry about the psychopath Alistair ever again."

His words hit me in the gut like a rocket. None of it had been a personal attack, more so the declaration of what his intentions. It wasn't direct suicide or anything but him leaving this realm would practically be the same thing for us still living here. He'd be the first man since...ever to willingly leave Equestria after appearing here. And if that was the case, was it really his fault or ours?

A crack of lightening sounded nearby followed by a boom of thunder. I took a step towards him. "You don't have to do this, Alistair. There's still hope."

"No, there's not. I have nothing left in this world. No friends, no interests. I don't even have a home of my own. I came here to try and sort things out but what I got was just more pain to add onto to what I already carry. I'm through with it all and I'm sick of trying to wait for this all to pass. For almost a year I've lived like this and it's finally time for me to put a stop to it."

I looked down to my hooves, an old familiar feeling creeping itself into my chest. It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, and it was guilt. This young man had seeked me out in hope of finding one pony, one last pony he could trust and I had failed him. I had the choice to help him but instead I let my selfish curiosity get the better of me once again. I couldn't changed what had happened then but perhaps I could change what was happening now.

"Are you sure about this?" I said over the rain that was picking up even further. "Are you really sure you want to leave this realm, to never return to a place you once saw as a sanctuary? Who's to say that when you leave here you'll just reappear in a place like Solitude, another wasteland, another barren tract of nothing?

"Would you be happy being on you own once again, after experiencing what it was like to speak with other living beings, to understand them and yourself? Can you honestly look me in the eyes and say that you wouldn't regret this decision? Because I'll tell you this, once you leave this realm, you won't have the liberty to of a second chance. Is that a risk you're willing to take?"

Alistair opened his mouth to shout something but promptly closed. He looked up at me and back to his feet, his face racked with a sense of pondering. He stood this way for quite some time, mentally weighing the options and feelings that were no doubt swirling through his mind. Looking back up at the sky, he let out a howl of anguish and pain.

Dropping to his knees and into the rain soaked mud, he looked to me in defeat. "Alright...I'll stay...I'll...go back to the house now..." It was at that instant that he drooped to his left, collapsing to the ground with a low thud.

We left the next day on the train to Canterlot. We didn't talk much as we got ready to leave that morning. Just the necessary conversation between us as we packed everything. The storm had cleared up by morning, leaving the entire landscape moist with the leftover water.

The pathway into town was surprisingly dry in comparison to the rest of the forest. I was appreciative of not having to worry about mud getting in my shoes as we walked, but I couldn't help but be reminded of my first trek along this path just a few days prior. My, how things had changed.

Neuro and I sat next to each other as the train pulled out. We didn't talk for well over an hour, avoiding the other's gaze with glances out the window or with a sudden interest in the empty car's tacky carpeting. But to me surprise, it wasn't Neuro who started the conversation.

"Neuro..." I said with a care to my words. "I'm...sorry for what happened last night. It was immature of me. I had no right to act like that."

He turned to me and smiled wearily behind his spectacles. "You had the right to get mad at me. I've done enough to you as time stands and the fact that I wasn't honest with you the moment you arrived...I should have known you would've been uncomfortable with the contents in that trunk."

To be honest, I wasn't all that bothered by then. It was more the assumption that Neuro's hospitality, his kindness, was all a ruse just so I could be his personal experiment one more time. I now knew that that had never been his intention and that he had his own reasons for keeping those relics hidden inside the house.

But I didn't tell him as much, not wanting to focus on the ordeal any further. I was ready to move onto whatever happened to the both of us in Canterlot. We both didn't know exactly what was going to happen once we arrived. Would we part ways? Would I stay with him? Would we leave the city entirely? There were so many possibilities and yet neither of us had the energy to consider them.

I could sense, however, that Neuro had something of his own to apologize and I braced myself what I inevitably knew it was going to be.

"And Alistair," he said with much more heaviness to his words than my own. "About what I said...with your...involvement with that group..."

I held up a hand to stop him. "Say no more. Apology accepted."

His eyes widened. "R-Really? Just like that? You're not troubled?"

"Neuro, I've had enough of dwelling on ancient history and having to recollect each horrid thing that happened to me the day before. I've had enough of these horrible moments of when I don't know if my relationship with somepony is about to be severed forever or strengthened for eternity. I'm ready move onto different things and to stop letting the past dictate my future."

"It bothers me that it's taken this long to figure out but I'm happy I'm finally starting to understand it all. It's time for me to grow up and find something else to do with my life. Whatever that will be is still a mystery and that's okay with me. I'm ready for a little excitement."

Neuro's faced brightened and for the first time it looked like some of the tension in his face, tension he'd held since the moment I'd arrived, begin to unfurl. "I'm glad to hear that Alistair. I...hope I played some role in helping you with this. I want to make up for everything that's happened. I've let you down already and I don't intend to do it again."

I of course had reason to doubt him. Trust was a two way street and he’d broken that rule on two occasions already. But something seemed different about him. There was a sense of urgency to what he’d said, like he was running out of time with me. Perhaps that little threat the night before just reminded him that I never did have to stay here upon my own accord.

Either way, there was legitimacy behind his words. I believed what he was telling me, despite experience telling me otherwise. I once again was ready to lower my guard and open up to another pony in a very long time. Maybe it would work out and maybe it wouldn’t, but at least I was getting a second chance at all this.

That was something I was truly blessed for.