MLP Trinity

Chapters

Chapter 1 - History in the Making
Chapter 2 - Changing Lives
Chapter 4 - Cyber Wing
Chapter 5 - Alone
Chapter 6 - Trinity
Chapter 3 - Days Long Past

Chapter 1 - History in the Making

After countless years of engineering, it was time to test my creation: metal wings. I could live out my lifelong dream of flight! A gentle breeze could be felt at the cliff top on which I stood. I was surveying the grass in front of me for a clear takeoff path.

While calculating the drop, I noticed somepony near the cliff base look up at me. She didn't know it, but she was about to witness history in the making.

I ran to edge, spread my metal wings, and jumped. The sickening sound of tearing synthetic fibers filled the air. My wings folded backwards, and I began to plummet.

All I could hear past the rushing air was a mare hollering at the top of her lungs.

I expected to land harshly, dreading the hospital bill, yet instead I felt myself decelerate. I felt like I was cradled in somepony's hooves as my world faded to black.

I slowly awoke, hearing a voice that seemed out of breath.

"What were you thinking?!" shouted the voice. I opened my eyes, and was greeted by two ice blue equals.

"I was thinking that I could make a revolution in aviation technology, you?" I responded.

"Not important, look, are you okay?"

"Never better, but, why?"

She unfolded her paper-white wings and I realized that the bystanding Pegasus had saved me.

"I guess I really owe you one, Miss... "

"Ink Scribe. I'm trying to land a career as a novelist. You? "

"Metal Wing. Aviation engineer, mechanic and hopefully, one day, pioneer. "

Her eyes lit up under the brim of her fedora." A mechanic, huh? You said you owe me one, right? Well I think I know what you can do for me."

"You're free to follow me back to my shop; I'm making some repairs anyway," I offered, hauling the pile of what was left of my prototype wings.

Ink Scribe agreed, and we began trotting the familiar path.

Not a minute after we left, my unexpected client decided to strike up some conversation. "Okay, just wondering, WHY did you decide to go cliff diving without a parachute?"

"I've been working on this prototype, and I needed to test it out," was my response.

"That's a little extreme don't you think?" She chuckled "Aren't you afraid you might break something?"

She didn't know it, but this writer-to-be just brought up a very touchy topic. "Yeah, about that..." I groaned

Instantly, her expression cringed "Oh, I take it breakage a sensitive subject?"

Instead of avoiding it, I decided to fill Ink in. "No, it's that 'scared' part. See, I have this condition where apparently I don't understand or perceive 'fear' or much related to it. Because of this, I've done my best to avoid the idea of 'fear' entirely."

Most ponies try running off once I tell them that, but Ink looked relatively unmoved by the explanation. "Okay, I'll stay off the subject then," she stated quickly, as if avoiding any further discussion.

I couldn't help but ask. "Wait, you're not put off by my condition?"

"Everypony's got something to make them unique," she exclaimed with an air of discomfort.

An awkward silence led the way for what little distance remained.

We then arrived at the modest cinder-block-and-steel metal shop that I call home.

"You work here?" Ink questioned.

"Sure do, I've been living and working here for years, as a matter of fact. I remember when I first got this place, I had-"

"I feel sorry for you," Ink interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, I feel bad that you have to work, let alone live, in as drab a place as this."

Ouch. I hid my annoyance as best I could and asked, "So then, Ms.Scribe,what can I do for you?"

"Oh, right. I've been trying to find a way to properly hold a quill. Have you got anything like that?"

"What, like a stand or a pen holder?"

"Not quite, more like something that will let me hold it while I'm writing with it; kinda like that thing over there!"

She pointed to a contraption I had inherited when first taking ownership of the shop.

"A hoof-held vice?" I asked

"Yeah, but one that can hold a quill pen."

"I thought they already made those for handicapped foals... "

"I know. As a matter of fact, I used one through my entire school career. The only problem is that they don't make any for full-grown ponies. That in mind, would it be possible for you to make one in my size?"

"Well, I guess I could, but I'd need another one of these vices to work off of. Doesn't help that I haven't found any in stock since I got this place. Unless you know where I could find one, I can't help you."

"No, but I know somepony who may be able to help... "

I figured I could trust Ink, she did just save my life, so I packed the vice along with some scrap metal and let her lead the way to this ‘somepony’ who could help. The first few minutes walking over gave me some time to think of why my prototype failed. Everything seemed to be working, I figured I must've missed something.

Since nothing was coming to mind, I decided to satisfy another curiosity. "So, why do you want me to make you an up-sized writing trainer?"

She answered, "That's actually a pretty odd story. See when I was in school I was constantly made fun of. Almost everypony teased me for wanting to be a writer. I refused to let them get to me, and joined a writing class. Problem was, I had a lot of trouble writing, as I couldn't control my quill while holding it. Because I was having so much trouble I was eventually recommended for a writing assist. I wasn't keen on the idea at first. I figured that I would be insulted, called a freak just for having something artificial clamped to my ankle. But when I wrote with it and saw what I was capable of, those worries melted away. That was the exact moment I knew I was going to be a writer."

"Until you grew out of the tool, I take it?"

"Yeah, ever since, I've only managed to ever write one rough draft, and to be frank, even I can't decipher what I wrote. The new writing assist should fix that problem!

Seeing how happy Ink was about getting this writing instrument, the project felt much more personal. I actually got a bit choked up. I started thinking about what I could do to make this tool better suited to writing. I was considering how I could improve the design when Ink spoke up, "Alright, here we are!"

I honestly didn't expect such a nice place to be the residence of somepony who would know how to reproduce a hoof-held vice. "How does a metalsmith earn enough pieces to afford a place like this?!"

"I never said he was a metalsmith," Ink retorted, while knocking on the gargantuan front door, "Obsidian? Are you there? It's Ink."

"Just a moment!" a fairly deep voice responded.

The door was cast open, and a dark-haired, white-maned unicorn, clothed in blue robes arrived.

"Hi Ink, what brings you here?" Obsidian asked.

"I need you to transmute something for a friend of mine."

"A friend?! Really?!... " he looked past Ink, spotting me."Um, hello. Please, come in."

He seemed a bit odd and definitely more than a little nervous, but I didn't want to make assumptions.

"Excellent! Metal, you have the scrap metal and the hoof-held thing right?" Ink asked

I caught myself staring at Obsidian, and the staff he had tied to his back. "Huh? Oh, yeah, it's right here." I placed the vice and the scrap metal down on the floor, "I need to duplicate this in a form large enough to fit your friend's hoof."

"Hmm... Okay, I think I can do that. Give me a moment to set things up... " Obsidian assured us. Ink and I moved back as the unicorn separated the scrap from the vice. He conjured the staff from his back, and took a deep breath. The staff suddenly took on a vibrant blue glow, then shot a burst of blinding white light at the pile of scrap metal.

The light faded, and on the floor where the scrap metal used to be was a perfectly recreated version of a previous wing design, where the scrap metal came from.

I looked at Ink first, and she looked concerned. The odd thing was that she was looking in Obsidian's direction, not at the new wing structure on the floor. I looked at Obsidian and he seemed devastated, "How?" he whispered aloud, as his legs collapsed beneath him, "How could I..." his voice trailed off to a murmur.

"Wow, that's exactly how it was when I first built it, better even! Nice work there!" I complimented, hoping to mend the obvious dismay he was feeling.

"No", Obsidian whispered, "It's-" he was back down to mumbling.

"Didn't quite catch that, what did you say?"

"IT'S A FAILURE! " Obsidian erupted.

Ink screamed and ran out of the room. I stayed put unable to take my eyes off the event unfolding before me. Obsidian started shouting wildly, his eyes now glowing a bright white.

At least then I knew why he was so surprised about Ink having a friend over, and why she ran from the room. In his outrage Obsidian began casting spells, forming a cloud in front of him. Lightning shot from the nebulous creation, violently striking the wing structure that lay beneath. I needed to do something, and fast! "Obsidian, settle down! You'll only get us hurt!" I called out.

No response from Obsidian. His tantrum was in full swing. I ducked down, getting as low as I could, ensuring the wings would serve as some sort of lightning rod. I shouted at him to stop, but he still wouldn’t hear me. “Obsidian! Calm down!”

Nothing. I crawled my way back behind him, buying time to think. I figured reasoning and assertion failed, so my next option was to try and comfort him. Determined to end this, I gently placed my hoof on his back, and whispered, "Obsidian... Just calm down, relax, it's alright. "

He slowly stopped shouting, as I repeated this mantra. It seemed that he was beginning to come back to his senses, and the spell he was casting faded.

Obsidian began apologizing profusely, as Ink poked her head inside. "Everything okay?" she asked, an unnatural quiver in her voice.

"Yeah, I think so." I responded.

"How's Obsidian?" she asked, as she walked into the room.

"I'm alright,” Obsidian stuttered, "Quite the brave friend you've got there."

"Wait, Metal, you not only survived one of Obsidian 's tantrums, but managed to stop it?" Ink asked.

"It wasn't too bad, though the impromptu light show complicated things," I responded. Obsidian hung his head in shame.

"So, why didn't you run off?" Obsidian asked

"Well, it’s like this... " I told him about my condition and all of the trouble it's caused me over the years.

"Intriguing, I didn't even know there was a condition like that," Obsidian said. "I just wish I could make up for what I did, just then."

I pondered for a second. He was indeed dangerous, but he seemed lonely, and he was a dear friend of Ink’s.

"I could use some friends. After all, we seem to make a pretty good team."

"I think that we could stick together. I already know Obsidian, and you still owe me a writing utensil," Ink stated.

"It would be great to have you with us, Metal," Obsidian added

"So, Obsidian, why don't you try that transmutation again? And if it goes wrong, we just try again. Um, but without lightning please," Ink suggested.

"Right!" Obsidian responded, as he began to clear space once again.

Ink and I took two steps back. "Alright, just relax and focus, and turn the wing model into a vice," Ink instructed.

"You got it. Here we go," Obsidian reassured.

He lifted his staff high into the air, causing the inferior metal wings to glow. A bright, white light show of sorcery took place, and when it ended, a perfect copy of the vice lay on the floor.

"It's perfect..." Ink squeaked in delight.

"An exact copy... " I followed up.

"Well, then... I guess that worked," Obsidian concluded

It was then that I knew, as all three of us knew at that same moment, that this was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Chapter 2 - Changing Lives

After making all of our comments, Ink walked up to the transmuted vice on the workbench, and with some minor adjustments, managed to secure it to her hoof.

"It's perfect... Wow Obsidian, you really have the alchemical touch!" she commented.

"Aw, thanks Ink," Obsidian replied.

"Alright, now that I have a base, I can make that vice into a writing trainer, thing. To do that, I need to head back to my shop. You guys mind joining me?" I offered.

They both agreed to follow me back to my shop. I decided to break the ice along the way. "So I'm guessing you two know each other?"

"Yup! Ink and I have been friends ever since I was a colt," Obsidian answered. "In fact, she's really the only friend I've managed to keep, thanks to my temper."

"I know how you feel; there's just my family and a few others," I admitted. "At least now I have you two,"

Ink and Obsidian smiled to each other."And we have you," Ink concluded.

Nearing my shop, I began considering what the vice was missing. I noted that the quill needed to remain steady while in the vice if Ink wanted any hope of writing.

My thoughts were cut short when Obsidian asked me about the first result of his transmutation. I explained to him that it was a design for my artificial wing concept, and followed up with the story of Ink saving my hide when I was testing them on the cliff.

"Okay, but if you're trying to make artificial wings, why did you need me to transmute a welding vice?" Obsidian asked.

Ink answered his question for me, "He wanted to repay me for, you know, saving his life."

"Wait, what do you need a welding vice for, Ink? " Obsidian asked.

"To fix my writing problem. Metal is going to turn this vice into one of those writing aids we had back in school," she answered

"Oh, I remember those, got me through writing classes until I finally got telekinesis down," Obsidian reminisced.

"Okay, am I the only one who's never seen or used one of these writing aids?" I blurted out.

"Pretty much," they responded in unison.

We finally reached my shop and entered. I cleared off my workbench and asked for the vice. I consulted both of them in order to get the basic design down, and proceeded to scrounge around the shop for the right parts.

After finding what I needed, I got down to work. I got an unexpected laugh from their reactions to my plasma cutter; but once started, it was just another job.

When I was almost finished, I was racking my brain trying to think of what was missing. I asked Ink to see if she could figure it out.

"Oh! It's missing the little rods that let you adjust how long it extends out" Ink exclaimed.

"You mean a... " I was struck with an epiphany. "A suspension... A suspension! That's it! Ink, you just helped forge aviation history!"

She wore an expression that lay between gratitude and confusion. "Uh, you're welcome?"

"Ink, that's what my wings are missing! A suspension system to keep them from folding! I can't believe I missed something so simple!"

"That's fantastic, Metal, but can it wait until after my writing assist is finished?" she asked, a little concerned.

"Oh. Yeah, sure, now where was I?" I thought out loud.

I started looking for a some rods and pivot joints to construct the adjustable suspension. While checking I stopped by the wall on which a painting of my family tree hung. I stared at my father’s portrait upon the tree. He had started the concept of artificial flight, and dedicated countless hours developing it. He was my inspiration to pursue flight. As, I looked into his image’s eyes, I clearly remembered the day I discovered what I was meant to do in life.

It was the day my dad and I, had gone to see a flight show, featuring Pegasi showing off their flight skills. The show had just concluded, and my dad set his hoof on my shoulder. I would never forget his words, "If you keep our legacy alive, Metal, someday you could be up there, as the legend that forged homemade flight.” That was the moment I was certain I would create and perfect artificial wings. In fact, that's how I got my version of the family crest emblazoned upon my flank.

"You alright there, Metal?" Obsidian asked.

I broke from my daydream, startled. "Huh? Oh, right, suspensions," I blurted out.

I somehow kept myself focused for the final hour of working on Ink's writing assist. Calling my new friends' attention at the very end.

"And that, fillies and gentlecolts, is how you make a writing assist! " I announced upon completion of the device.

Ink prepared a stack of paper, a quill pen, and some ink at a side workbench. I delivered the writing aid to her and reminded her how to load the quill. When she did so, I felt inclined to ask "Ma'am, would you please write your name?"

I watched as she gracefully directed the quill across the page, like a dance of pen and page. Her face lit up as she looked to find her name, written in a perfect, legible script. She was speechless.

"Well, what do you think?" Obsidian asked.

"It's perfect!" Ink squealed, her voice choked up. "Even better than what we used in school. Metal, this is probably the greatest gift I've ever received. I, I have to repay you somehow," Ink pleaded.

"Ink, this is me re-paying you. I don't need anything. Besides, you helped me come up with the answer to making my wings work. Combined with saving me on the cliff, I still owe you," I reasoned

"Let's just call it even. Now, you go ahead and do whatever it is you would do if I weren’t here. I need to remind myself how to write," Ink then immediately started practicing her writing.

I stood there for a few minutes, just watching Ink practice. I felt ecstatic, realizing that I was partially responsible for changing someone's whole life. Amazing how much a small gift can do.

I came to my senses when I heard Obsidian telling me I was staring off into space again.

"You've been spacing out quite a bit. You do that often?" Obsidian inquired.

"Well, there's been quite a bit on my mind. I nearly got hospitalized twice, met you and Ink, had a long-overdue epiphany, changed the life of someone I just met with a gift, and now I'm working on a lifelong fantasy of mine, all in the same day," I rambled. "I think I’ve earned the right to space out every now and then."

"That'd do it," Obsidian replied. "It's just that you sort of remind me of myself when you do that."

This really caught me off guard. "Really?" I exclaimed.

"Yeah, I tend to space out every now and then. I just wish I could space out to something a bit less... disappointing"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Just some very old family problems is all," Obsidian said, as if trying to get away from the topic.

I took the hint, and got back to my work.

Everyone quietly settled into their own tasks. Almost all of the time I'd spent in my shop before had been spent completely alone.With the exception of my parents, and my only sibling, Cyber Wing, I haven't had any real friends before meeting Ink and Obsidian. To say that I enjoyed the company would be a massive understatement.

I was adding the finishing touches to my design when Ink stopped by my table, "Obsidian fell asleep. Figured I'd see how you're doing. Looks to me like things are coming along nicely," she observed.

"Yup, how about your writing? Remembering to dot your t's and cross your i's?" I inquired playfully.

She chuckled at the comment. "Things have definitely been coming back to me, but it's not like I'll be writing any novels by morning."

"Patience is certainly a virtue, " I declared.

"This coming from the pony who turned scrap metal into a near-finished pair of fake wings in a matter of hours.”

"You could say I know the design pretty well. It's not like this is the first time I've built these." I looked up from my work. "You mind passing me that box over there?"

Ink looked inside as she slid the box over. "Goggles? "

I spilled the contents onto the bench. "Oh, these are more than just your average aviator goggles. They have sensors along the band that detect brain activity, and convert them into signals that can be picked up by a motor mounted in that box at the wing base. This allows me to control the attached wings hooves-free."

She was obviously very confused, "In non-engineer speak, if you'd please?"

I gave a short sigh, "They read my thoughts and let me control my wings as if they were actually grown there."

"And... you made that yourself?" Ink asked.

"Oh, no, definitely not. My sister made these; she's a cybernetics engineer who specializes in neurology," I informed.

"You put a lot of trust in her design, don't you..." Ink noted.

"Definitely! I've been helping her test since she first started developing her own gadgets.”

Ink suddenly wore a sorrowful expression. "So that's what happened to your..." her voice trailed off.

"Happened to my what?" I exclaimed, unable to hear all of what she said.

Ink ignored the question, and changed the subject before I could ask again. I decided to just let the topic go, especially since I didn't even know what she meant.

Within the hour, the wings were finished. " Alright, one pair of prosthetic wings, now with suspensions, ready to go!" I announced, failing to contain my excitement.

Ink got up from her writing, asking to take a look, while Obsidian awoke from his nap.

Obsidian stirred groggily and asked, "Huh? I'm sorry did I fall asleep on you guys?"

Ink smiled and said, "you could say that. Anyway, come over here; Metal just finished his wings!"

They gathered around the workbench and I fell into a sort of trance, looking at the fruits of my labor. I just couldn’t believe that I actually managed to pull it off.

"Well, don't just stare at them. Put them on!" Obsidian urged.

I put on the harness, followed by the goggles. And when the goggle assembly began taking control of the wings, I extended them out just as Ink had when she saved me from the fall.

Both Ink and Obsidian were staring open-mouthed, so I broke the silence by suggesting we return to the cliff I had leapt from that morning.

"Wait, you're telling me that you want to go jump off a cliff again?!" Ink asked, startled. "Why can't you just lift off from the ground? I know it works; I've done it hundreds of times!"

I would have responded, but Obsidian beat me to it, "That's just it Ink, you've done it hundreds of times. This is the first time he's ever tried this, and you know as well as I do that the first time you try something, it's most likely to fail. Of course I’m not him, but I think it's safe to assume that Metal doesn't want to plant his face into the ground a few hundred times trying to take off."

"Well, I guess you're right Obsidian. Honestly, I just don't want to have to save him again. I barely managed it the first time and I don’t know if I could do it twice," Ink responded.

"Worst case scenario, I'll catch him. I think I know my way around basic telekinetics," Obsidian assured her.

"Glad to hear you guys have so much faith in my design... " I stated sarcastically.

Obsidian couldn't help but share a short laugh at the comment.

Before I knew it, I was back on the cliff top, staring out at the landscape once again. Far below I could see Ink and Obsidian cheering me on. I relaxed and concentrated.

I ran up, spread my metal wings, and jumped...

And I flew.

I leaned forward to pick up speed and tore across the sky, living out my colthood fantasies. I could see Ink and Obsidian looking at me from below, cheering for my accomplishment. I descended toward them, and held myself in a hover by rhythmically beating my metal wings.

"I'd say those are working," Obsidian stated nonchalantly.

Ink added "Yeah, I'll say. You're flying around like a proper Pegasus, Metal!"

"Well, countless hours studying the mechanics and technique of flight will do that, ” I felt compelled to respond. "Now, if you guys are alright with it, I'm going to continue practicing!"

"And by 'practice' you mean you just want to soar around aimlessly for an hour or two? " Obsidian remarked.

He had no idea how right he was.

Chapter 4 - Cyber Wing

The record concluded, leaving behind a soft static tone.

Ink was the only one able to summon enough energy to get up and turn off the record player.

"What I wouldn't give to bottle this feeling, " Obsidian began," and keep it for one of my outbursts."

the ‘bottled emotion’ comment reminded me of one of my sister Cyber Wing's gadgets. She said something about music really helping her deal with stress, and that she was trying to utilize that in some kind of device.
"You know, Obsidian, my sister may have a solution to some of your anger issues, " I offered.

Obsidian seemed to like the idea. " Sounds great! Perhaps we can pay her a visit tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Why wait ‘til tomorrow? What's wrong with visiting Cyber tonight?" I asked.

Ink responded as if I were joking. "Metal, it's awfully late to be visiting someone."

I glanced at the clock, "Woah, it’s already after seven? I didn't think your song was THAT long, Ink... " I commented.

Obsidian sarcastically chimed in," Yeah, but it doesn't help that you didn't show up at my place until two in the afternoon... just saying."

“What can I say, a stallion like me needs his beauty sleep.”

Ink cleared her throat to get Obsidian and I back on track. "Metal, it's not that we don't want to meet your sister; it's that we don't want to bother her."

I failed to understand what Ink was getting at. "How could we be bothering her? She usually doesn’t get up until around now."

Ink grunted and responded, "Metal, she's your sister, clearly you respect her sleep-" instantly, Ink's tone changed "did you really say that she was just now getting up?"

"Yeah, Seven PM, that's about when Cyber wakes up."

Obsidian couldn’t believe it. "Metal, I get that your family likes to sleep in, but seven at night?! That’s some serious laying about!"

"Just one of the quirks that make Cyber who she is!"

Obsidian started weighing the decision to see Cyber. Ink leaned in toward him and began whispering her opinion. I wasn't sure, but I thought her voice carried a slight hint of dread.

Obsidian seemed to disagree with Ink's suggestions, if body language was anything to go by. Obsidian looked toward me "I'd be honored to meet Cyber, if she's alright with it."

I looked over at Ink and asked her opinion on the matter. Her gaze ran laps between Obsidian, me, and the nearest door. She looked at Obsidian and mouthed 'you sure?' to which he nodded. She shut her eyes, and answered with a very uncertain, "Yeah, I guess I could meet her."

Our decision made, we took off toward my sister's home. I thought about flying there and decided to try taking off again, angling just a bit higher than this morning's attempt.

With a trot and a leap I actually managed to get up in the air! I began beating my metal wings in a slow hover, leading my friends along. Having a top down view, I saw Obsidian' cane tied to his torso by the sash, and Ink's wings, neatly folded. Just then it struck me; Ink was walking, not flying. Curiosity led me to offer some airspace. "Care to join me, Ink? Weather's great up here!"

The tone her response made it clear that, she was bothered by something. "No thanks, Metal."

Ink didn't quite seem herself. "What's the matter?" I asked, hoping to learn what had her so concerned.

"I've never been a fan of flying. It's a bit too much strain to be worth much of anything, in my opinion," Ink answered, clearly dodging the real question.

We followed the cobblestone roads of the town, counting off the streetlights, as the sun set over the horizon. I began recognizing shops and restaurants from previous visits to my sister's home, and all of the stories that went with them. I figured that one of these stories would make interesting entertainment for Ink and Obsidian as we walked the last stretch. I recalled this one time at Wasabi Ginger’s Istallion restaurant. My dad, Carbon Wing, just barely avoided faceplanting into this huge plate of trotellini when falling out of his chair. He got up off the floor, dusted himself off then threw his face into the dish anyway.

I finished my tale, but Ink's silence continued, causing even Obsidian to notice.

"Come on Ink, cheer up," Obsidian softly requested.

Ink motioned Obsidian toward her, and spoke to him in a hushed whisper. They went back and forth like this for what must've been only two minutes, but felt like hours to me.

Regardless, whatever they told each other made Ink put on a horribly fake smile. By then, we stood outside Cyber's home, with it's familiar light brown walls.

"Am I crazy, or do I smell ramen?" Obsidian questioned.

Good, Cyber already had breakfast.

I drifted down to a successful landing and with some balancing on unsteady hooves, walked up to Cyber's door. I knocked to the tune of "shave and a manecut" and with the doorbell, finished "two bits, " like I always do for my sister.

Just behind the door I could hear Cyber shout in her familiar, cheery tone, "Hi Metal! I'll be right there. Give me just a moment! I need a little time to get ready!"

I forgot how much I missed those redundant phrases of hers.

The door shot open upwards, startling both Obsidian and Ink, causing them to jump back. In the doorway stood my favorite Palomino-toned, messy-maned, genius of a kid sister. "What's up Metal? How's it going?" she shouted.

"I've been doing great! Really loving the goggles!" I answered happily.

"That's awesome! I've been working on some-" Cyber glanced behind me, and cut herself off. "-Aah! Metal, why are there other ponies here!? Wha-what are they doing here?" she shouted, jumping back behind the door frame.

Seeing the look in her eyes, I immediately tried to calm her down, "Cyber, it's okay. They're my new friends!"

She briefly looked to one side, as if checking behind her, then leaned in close and quietly asked, "You're not replacing me are you?"

"Of course not! How could I ever even think about replacing you? You know you're the best sister a colt could ask for! Now cut the theatrics and come meet my friends!"

She agreed, and carefully stepped up to Ink, who had just gotten up. Cyber introduced herself with unparalleled politeness. Ink, however was wearing a clearly fake smile, and sounded almost sickly when returning the introduction.

Cyber then elegantly trotted over to Obsidian and gave him the same polite greeting as Ink. Obsidian complimented her manners, then proceeded with his own introduction.

"So what brings the three of you over, I'd love to know!" Cyber asked as she let everypony inside.

I thought I should answer first, "The last time I was over you told me about a project you were working on. The one about stress relief through music?"

"Oh! Yeah, I finished that recently. I was going to tell you about that, but I kinda got in my own way. Sorry about that!" Cyber informed me.

Funny, but I actually didn't miss her habit of using overly profuse apologies.

Cyber continued, "So yeah, sorry to hear that something's been stressing you out. Rest assured that my system will put the proverbial fire out before it's even started!"

Obsidian suddenly spoke up, "That sounds perfect!"

Cyber's surprised expression caused Obsidian to sheepishly step back in embarrassment.

I broke the awkward silence, "Anyway, I'm not going to use the device myself, It's actually for Obsidian-"

"WHAT?!" Ink shrieked just as I was finishing.

Cyber's expression now looked even more surprised than before.

Ink cleared her throat, and tried to pretend that she hadn’t said anything. Cyber leaned in towards me, "Your friends aren't always like this, are they?" she whispered.

"No. No, they really aren't," I replied. A hushed silence fell over the room as everyone tried to understand what had just happened.

Obsidian cleared his throat then spoke up. "Sorry if I startled you earlier. As Metal said, I was the one who was hoping to try out your music system."

Cyber cast her gaze to one side, and then to Ink before softly answering, "I don't have a problem with it, but I don't think your friend Ink is too keen on the idea..."

Obsidian turned to Ink, and asked her opinion." But, think of what it did to... " Ink replied uncomfortably.

She hadn’t quite finished with her thoughts when Obsidian spoke up, "Alright then! Please Ms.Wing, would you be so kind as to show me this system of yours?"

Happy to oblige, Cyber answered by leading the three of us inside. She began with a tour or, more accurately, a string of apologies with transitions in between. To be honest, my sister isn't the tidiest pony I know.

We eventually made it to the back of the house, which was sealed shut by what looked to be a second front door. "Hang on for just a sec, I'll get the door open, it'll just take me a second," Cyber ensured as she struggled with the complex digital lock.

Looking over to Ink, I noticed that she was clearly expending a lot of effort to maintain her composure. I quietly asked her if everything was alright, but she offered no response. Figuring she hadn't heard me, I tried asking again. Still nothing. I began shuffling through my thoughts to find a reason for Ink’s odd behavior.

"Got it!" my sister interjected, finally besting the very security program she designed. "After you, Mr. Mage," Cyber sang, holding the door open for the group.

With slow, deliberate steps, everyone entered Cyber's home-office/design lab. What awaited inside was a perfectly maintained and polished chrome-themed room with a spider web of wires linking every device. As I looked around the room, I noticed that most of the devices had housings I designed.

The first words out of Obsidian and Ink were one and the same, yet the tones seemed vastly different. "Whoa, did you do all of this?"

Cyber slid over to her favorite work table, and began activating all of the electronics from a control console. "Yup, everything here was made between Metal, Calc, and of course, yours truly!" she beamed.

Ink and Obsidian’s stunned expressions suddenly became confused. "Calc?" Ink asked, a harsh edge to her voice "Like, Calculus?"

Cyber clearly didn't see this question coming, and turned to me, as if asking for help. She never was very good with questions she wasn't ready for.

"Perhaps I should explain,” I began. "Cyber here isn't talking about the mathematical practice of Calculus. In fact, she's talking about our mother, Calc. Right, Cyber?"

Relieved to have the pressure taken off her back, Cyber continued. "Right! Mom inspired me to take up electronics back when I was just a filly. Haven't mixed up any wires since!"

I’ll never forget that day. A flash of blue/white light, a loud buzz, and the smell of smoke proved that something went very, very wrong. I never knew a mane like Cyber's could stand on end like that!

Cyber continued "Now this right here is my favorite invention!" She picked up what looked like a headband, which everyone stared at curiously. Of course, I already knew exactly what it was.

"A Neuro-transmitter!" Cyber bellowed, holding her device skyward. "Just slip it on, hook it up to a compatible device, and Boom! You're in complete control! Here, watch!"

My sister fit the headband just below the base of her khaki colored ears, and pulled the end of a cable leading from the back. She plugged the end into a port at the base of what looked like a skeletal Pegasus wing.

"Sit back and watch and learn and prepare to be amazed!" Cyber gloated as she switched on the headband. Cyber always had a tendency to show more of her quirks when she was excited.

With the click of the switch, the skeletal wing model snapped into a folded configuration. Cyber closed her eyes and said that she was imagining herself flying. Suddenly the model sprang to life, creating a series of graceful wing beats.

Obsidian was speechless, imparting compliment after compliment to my sister and her work. Ink even almost showed a bit of intrigue.

Cyber opened her eyes again, enjoying the looks of everyone around her. She thanked Obsidian for all of his compliments as she disconnected the headband from the model. She then picked up a tiny device in one hoof. "This is what I've been working on for the longest time. It's been taking forever to get right," Cyber announced with her voice cracking part way through.

"This is the ‘stress-relief-through-music-thingy’ device I've been working on! Not sure if you noticed, but I am still working on a name," Cyber revealed sheepishly.

Obsidian immediately inundated Cyber with questions on how the device worked. As they talked, I noticed out of the corner of my eye something odd about Ink. Every time Cyber made one of her redundant slips, Ink seemed to wince.

I was just putting things together when...

"NO!" An ear splitting shriek erupted from Ink.

Stunned silence followed. Cyber looked to be helping Obsidian put the headband on before Ink's interjection.

"Don't you DARE put that accursed piece of technology on Obsidian! I know what it’s done to you and your brother, and I REFUSE to let you corrupt the only friend I have, you FREAK!" Ink bellowed.

Cyber was now laying on the floor, tears welling up in her eyes. Reflexively I jumped between Ink and Cyber, trying to keep them apart. I had to work very hard to control my anger with Ink from taking over.

But I snapped.

I felt my mouth open, expecting a scream to erupt, but instead I heard from a long way off, a haunting voice vaguely comparable to my own. "You have the right to your opinion, that's fine." I felt my legs slowly carry me forward to the Pegasus who stood before me.

"You can attack me, I don't care." She seemed cruel, and unfeeling, despite the helpless expression on her startled face. "Despite what you may believe, both of our conditions are genetic. Cyber's machines have done nothing but help us." She looked almost paralyzed. Finally I heard myself scream. "How DARE you call my sister a FREAK!"

In a blur of motion Ink fled the room at top speed, bursting through every door that stood in her way.

"M-Metal?" A soft, hurt voice asked from behind me. Cyber's.

"She had no right to call you that, sis," I reassured my clearly broken up sister.

"It-it's not what Ink Scribe said M-Metal. It-it's y-you... " She said.

I turned around, and saw Cyber shivering behind Obsidian Mage. She winced as I turned toward her.

I just realized what I had done.

I just hope Ink can forgive me...

Chapter 5 - Alone

Author's Note

(Speaker changes to Obsidian Mage this chapter)

Chapter 5 - Alone

What in the world just happened?!

In all the years I've known Ink, I've never seen her go from blind rage to total fear so quickly.

And to think, the catalyst was Metal! Of all the ponies I've ever met, Metal is one of the last ones I'd ever think to act so viciously.

I overheard Metal's sister, Cyber saying something in a very frightened tone, and then suddenly Metal shies away in the corner, hanging his head.

I knew I needed to talk to someone close to figure this out, but I first had to make my way out of this room.

"Cyber?" I asked as gently as I could.

She looked up at me, still quaking after Metal’s and Ink's mutual meltdowns.
"Y-yes, Mr.Mage?"

It pained me to say it, but I knew I had to. "I think that the two of you need some time alone, maybe we can try this out some other time?"

She clung close to me, clearly still scared.

"Don't forget, he's still your big brother, and you, better than anyone else should know that he means well," I reminded Cyber Wing, gently releasing her grip on me.

She got up, straightened her necktie and gathered her composure. "Alright, Mr. Mage, I'll talk to Metal. You go ahead and take care of... What exactly?"

"Personal matters," I told her. I left slowly and quietly, delaying as long as I could to catch some of the conversation between the two siblings. All I ended up overhearing were Metal’s sobs.

What a weird thought: Metal crying. Hard to believe that a stallion without fear could still shed tears. I guess I shouldn't judge. After all, I'm not the one with the genetic condition.

Now, who to talk to? I think I should leave Ink be for now. She and Lime need some quality sibling time just like Metal and Cyber do. I honestly don't feel like trying to sort things out myself, and risk making an incorrect assumption.

Thinking back, I remember Ink’s mother, Graphite Author, mentioning that if I ever needed help to just stop by. It's been a while, but she, Lyric Scribe, and my mother are the closest thing I've got to any real family. If I hurry, I might be able to make it to the orphanage before the place closes. Walking, I would never make it in time. I’d need a faster form of travel and that meant a teleportation spell.

I shut my eyes and pictured the orphanage entranceway as I had always remembered it. I forced all of my concentration onto that one image, picturing every detail. I recounted every sight, every sound, and even every smell, imagining myself back upon those cold marble steps.

And then, nothing. Another failure. I SWEAR, I... no, I must calm down. A flustered grunt would have to do to keep the rage from taking over.

Deep breath. Calm. Looks like I'm going to need the only thing that makes me glad to have known my dad: my staff. My family line can enhance the strength of magic by channeling it through an object containing an obsidian crystal. All thanks to the teachings of an exceptionally talented unicorn somewhere deep in the roots of our family tree.

Once again, I cleared my mind and pictured the orphanage. I channeled my thoughts through the staff and almost immediately felt a rush of heat through my veins, while a flash of light blinded my vision. Once the light faded, I gazed upon the doors of my childhood home, the Scribe Family Orphanage.

Gotta love teleportation spells, at least, when they work.

I knocked on the gigantic oak doors and a moment later I heard trotting on the other side. The doors swung open, revealing a mare with a pale green coat, a violet mane pulled up into buns, and a headset in one ear.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" she soullessly asked between chewing gum cracks.

This certainly wasn't the secretary I remembered. "This is the Scribe Family Orphanage, right?" I asked

"Sure is," the mare responded, nodding her head toward a plaque on the mahogany wall. "Whatcha need?"

"I was wondering If I could speak to the owners?" I requested.

She looked at me suspiciously, blowing a huge bubble with her chewing gum. "Whacha need to talk to 'em about?"

"Personal matters," I stated.

The mare stopped chewing and glared at me as she pressed down on a nearby button. "Mr.Scribe, Mrs. Author, somepony's here to see you about 'personal matters.” She smirked while making air quotes and speaking into her headset.

A wave of confusion came over the secretary's face as her bosses radioed back to her. This finally evoked emotion in her dry voice. "Yeah, he looks exactly like that, broken stick cutie mark and all... Yeah, he does have some kinda stick thing with him... Alright, I'll let him up." She looked up and asked, "Should I know you?"

I told her that I wasn't anypony special. She instructed me to head upstairs, to room one. Climbing the steps, I caught a glimpse of the secretary's mark. A speaker with a wire extending out. No wonder she was so crabby; she clearly wasn't meant to be a secretary.

As I trotted down the hallway, memories came flooding back to me. I'd love to immerse myself in the experience, but now wasn't the time. What I needed to do was to talk out the situation, and hopefully find a way to get Metal and Ink back. It's strange. I've only known Metal for about a day and a half, and yet, I feel like I've known him since I was in this orphanage, all those years ago.

Room one. I stepped inside, and there they were. Mr.Scribe looked just as he did the day I left. Cherrywood coat, long blonde mane, kept mostly to his left side. The same maroon waistcoat with the white sleeves he always wore, and his signature crimson trilby with the white band and quarter-rest pin, matching his jet black mark.

Mrs. Author looks almost exactly like her daughter Ink, just a little taller. She has a slightly longer mane and a lily tucked behind her right ear instead of any sort of hat. The biggest difference is with the mark, depicting a pencil drawing a heart shape, indicating her prowess in visual arts.

I felt a burst of nostalgia as I once again became a small colt standing in front of these two ponies. "Mrs. Author? Mr. Scribe?"

"Obsidian Mage!" Mrs. Author cheered, "I can't believe that you're really back!" Her compassionate voice reminded me of all of the advice she gave me after the incident with my real father so many years ago.

"Feels like years since we saw you last! You and Ink ever meet up again?" Mr.Scribe asked.

"We sure have, Mr.S. And beyond that, I've met a new friend thanks to her," I stated in a very colt-ish manner.

Mrs. A's eyes lit up at the comment. "That's fantastic, Obsidian! Who would that be?"

I hesitated for a moment. I could take the easy path and just catch up with Mr. Scribe, but, no. If I waited I might not have my new friends anymore. I needed to stay focused. "Mrs. A, Mr. S, as much as I'd love to catch up, I'm afraid there's a more pressing matter at the moment."

Their expressions faded from welcoming grins to concerned eyes. "Oh, and what would that be then?" Mrs. A asked.

"It's not 'Him' is it?" Mr. S questioned, a frightened tone creeping into his voice.

I reassured my surrogate parents that they need not worry about my real father, then filled them in on my current situation.

Mr. S spoke solemnly, "Ink hasn't acted that way in years, not since she first met you, Obsidian."

I remember that day vividly. Somepony was teasing me, and Ink stepped between us, giving my tormentor a full blast verbal assault.
"Perhaps we can help somehow? It's not like we don't know our own daughter," Mrs. A suggested.

"Mrs. A, as much as I appreciate the offer. I don't think you talking to Ink will change Metal Wing's feelings," I explained.

The couple looked at each other, quietly discussed the matter, then turned to face me.

"Alright," Mrs. A began. "Just let us know if there's anything we can do to help. Anything at all, small or large."

I pondered for a moment, then hit upon an idea. "Well, actually, I did have a question about your daughter."

"And just what would that be, Obsidian Mage?" Mr. S asked in his comforting voice, despite a slightly concerned expression.

"Could you please tell me, what does she usually do to make amends with someone she's been arguing with?" I asked.

Mrs. A answered, "Ink usually makes amends by talking through the issue once initial tensions are over. Then she always gives the sweetest apologies."

"Thank you, Mrs. A. Knowing that really helps."

"Any time, Obsidian Mage. " Mrs. A said with a smile.

I had almost forgotten to ask. "Oh, how's mom liking her new job?"

"Azure Mist has been a great help around here. She wanted us to relay that she'd be happy to visit you anytime. " Mrs.Author replied.

Armed with some ideas, I thanked Mr. S and Mrs. A for their time, hugged them goodbye for the time being, and made my way outside.

Now, to get to Ink's house. I must've taken this path hundreds of times growing up. The pavement is smooth, very easy on the hooves, and feels just as it did every time I went from the orphanage to Ink's place. It's quite an odd sensation to be afraid of what lies at the end of this path, rather than the joy I always felt on previous visits.

Let's see, 24, 23, ah there it is, townhouse 22, Ink's home. Deep breath. It's Ink. Why should I be worried? I gave the door a soft set of three knocks.

"I'll get it!" rang from inside.

Lime's voice, I shouldn't have been surprised. He threw the door open, nearly hitting me in the face.

"Oh, hey there Obsidian, what brings you over?" Limelight asked, struggling with what appeared to be half of a stage costume.

As much as I wanted to inquire about his unusual attire, instead I told him what was going on with the situation regarding Ink.

"So you want to talk to her? Yeah, sure, she's in her room. Just, uuh, be careful," Lime warned.

This can't be good. I thanked Limelight, walked inside, and began climbing up the light blue stairs. I imagined Ink's room would be even more of a mess now than it usually is, at least considering how I always end up trashing a room I have an outburst in.

As I topped the stairs, Ink's bedroom door lay in front of me, slightly ajar. A peek inside told the whole story. A single desk lamp lit only a small corner of the room, but from what I could make out everything was organized, sorted, and picked up. Ink was sitting at a desk on the opposite side of the room, crying into her hooves. She seemed like a completely different Ink than the one I knew.

"Ink?" I called quietly.

She turned in her chair, and faced me with sorrowful eyes. "Obsidian? Is that you?" Ink asked, a quiver in her voice. She's was clearly torn up about what happened, which would explain the suddenly immaculate room.

Keep it slow, I thought. "Yeah, it's me," I whispered, while slowly approaching.

She seemed to lose the quiver in her voice, though she kept her words soft and hard to hear. "I need to talk to you, about earlier today."

"Sure, go ahead," I responded with as comforting a voice as I could manage.

Ink looked at me briefly, then continued staring at her hooves."I feel so tangled up in my own emotions. I am so angry at Metal for screaming at me the way he did. I feel terrible for yelling at Cyber and, by extension, Metal. I know what I said was right in a way, but how I said it was so cruel. How can I ever know what’s the right thing to say?!" She proceeded to groan loudly and hid her face in her hooves once more.

So this is what Ink's breakdowns are like, poetic, yet confusing.

Ink freed her face from hiding, tears welling up. "What should I do, Obsidian?" She wailed.
"You could apologize to Metal,” I suggested, figuring the direct approach would be the best.

"Why should I?! All he did was yell at me like I'm some kind of monster!" Ink bellowed. Her sudden vehemence caught me by surprise.

She doesn't seem to be thinking very straight. After all, she did go completely against what she just said. I guess I needed something a bit more potent than a simple answer to get through to her. It's an awfully big gamble, but I could try...

"Really? That's all Metal did?" I exclaimed with a tone of anger matching hers.

Ink seemed to be taken aback by my sudden change in tone, now's my chance! "Because if I remember correctly, Metal also made you that writing tool on your desk!" I began.

Ink seemed to be paying attention now. "I also recall that Metal managed to find a way to stop my outbursts; something you've been trying to do for years now!" I continued.

Finally, it looked like she was rethinking her position on the matter. Better tone it back a little. "Ink, after you ran off, Metal fell to tears about how he acted. He was crying because he thought he lost a friend. Now you have the opportunity to set things right... for both of you!"

With brief a throat clearing, and a new look of determination on her face, Ink spoke up. "You're right, Obsidian. It's my fault for making this mess; I should be the one to fix it."

Now that's the Ink I know.

Ink got up off her desk chair, and began pacing around the room, "The question is, Obsidian, how?"

Time to use what Mrs. A told me. "Why not write a letter of apology? Show Metal how much you appreciate your new writing tool with a beautifully written letter?

Ink's face lit up at the idea. "That's brilliant, Obsidian! How did you come up with it?"

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud. "You could say I took advice from some very old friends."

Suddenly it dawned on Ink who I meant, and she gave me a very satisfied smile.

Chapter 6 - Trinity

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Chapter 3 - Days Long Past

I woke up back at my shop and wondered if the last day were no more than a dream. After all, I was alone.

Thankfully, that thought faded instantly upon seeing a note in Ink's newly renovated script.

The note read as follows; "Obsidian and I will meet you at his place, whenever you get up. -Ink"

I figured that the sooner I got back with my friends, the better, so I attached my new wings and stepped outside. Flying to Obsidian's mansion would be much faster than walking, so I bent myself into what I hoped would be a good form to take off from.With my goggles on, I spread my wings into life, and kicked off with all my might. Ready to be at one with the sky.

In actuality I just catapulted myself forward a few feet and then arced straight into the ground. Maybe they’ll name the new crater after me. Suddenly walking didn't seem like such a bad idea.

I eventually made it to Obsidian's mansion, and knocked on the door.
"Oh! He’s finally here," I heard Ink’s voice from inside.

A moment later the door burst open and Ink smiled at me. "There you are! I was wondering if you'd ever make it out of bed.“

I ignored the comment on my lateness and responded with the usual greetings. I was being led into the living room, and I heard Obsidian carrying on a conversation with someone whose voice I didn't recognize.

"Hiya Metal!" Obsidian turned to me as I entered the room.

I said “Hi” back and noticed who he was just talking to. A Pegasus with light green hair, a short, blonde, well-trimmed mane, and a suit long enough to obscure his mark.

Ink introduced us: "This is Metal Wing; he's the pony I was talking about. Metal, this is my brother, Lime."

He and I exchanged greetings with a hoofbump.

"Lime, why don't you tell Metal a bit more about yourself?" Ink encouraged.

"Well, I'm a jeweler by trade. I visit places around the world, and my sister sounds like my mother right now."

It took Ink a moment to notice the comment, at which she rolled her eyes. "Like he said, Lime travels all over the world, collecting new stones to use in his works. I swear he has a story for every last one."

"And Ink wants to turn my tales into novels," Lime concluded.

I complimented Ink’s idea, and needed to satisfy a curiosity of mine. "So why the name Lime?"

He answered with a quizzical look on his face, "It's short for Limestone, Lime is just a nickname, "

Something about that answer seemed, off to me. By Ink's expression, I wasn't alone in that thought. She leaned over and began whispering,"Metal, his name isn't Limestone it's-"

"So, any chance I could see those wings of yours in action?" Lime interrupted.

I looked over at Ink. She didn't mind being interrupted, and hinted that I should agree.

We departed toward the cliff. Outside, the sun hung low in the sky, reminding me how long I had slept in. Obsidian approached me, noticing my lack of conversation.

"Everything alright, Metal? You haven’t said a word since we left.”

I breathed a heavy sigh, and responded. “It’s Ink’s brother. I think he’s hiding something from me.”

Obsidian chuckled, “Really, Lime? He’s practically an open book!”

“If he’s so open, then why isn’t he telling us his real name?” I exclaimed.

Obsidian seemed offended by the comment “Where’d you get that idea?”

I told him exactly what Ink told me. He told me not to make anything of it, and then proceeded to join Ink in her ongoing conversation with her brother. I figured that I’d get answers soon enough, and did as I was told for the rest of the short journey.

Arriving at the edge of the cliff, everyone scattered to give me room for the run up. I found the right spot, deployed my wings, and dug my hooves in. Just like yesterday, I galloped at top speed then leapt off the ground, beginning to soar, unable to contain a primal shout of pure joy. I snatched a quick look back at my audience. Ink and Obsidian seemed to be just fine, but Limestone looked incredibly unwell.

I pulled a ‘180’ and began reducing my speed. I wanted to land next to Lime so I could ask if everything was alright. But as I approached he seemed to be shouting, and it wasn't in joy or anger; it seemed to be some other emotion entirely.

Just before landing, Lime backed up and took off running back down the hillside, yelling the whole way. Ink ran off after him and as I landed, I gave Obsidian a confused look, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"Don't worry about it Metal, You get used to it, ponies running away in fear," Obsidian said smugly.

Of course, it was that ‘fear’ thing again. "Wait, run away in fear?"

"You know, when you're scared by something, you naturally run away from it," Obsidian stated.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, still no less confused.

Obsidian was starting to get annoyed, "How can I put it any simpler terms?! It's how you respond when you're AFRAID OF SOMETHING!"

I needed to calm him down immediately, before we had another lightning fiasco. "Wait calm down, Obsidian. Remember my condition? I don't get what you mean!”

Obsidian seemed to calm down a bit, yet was still livid. "It's when you feel unsafe, and want to run away from a situation, just like how EVERYONE wants to run away from me when I 'lash-out' like this!" Obsidian barked.

I still didn't understand, but pretended to for both of our sakes. "Well, I don't run away from you," I spoke softly, trying desperately to get Obsidian to calm down.

"WHY SHOULD YOU CARE?! You don't even FEEL FEAR! After all it's not like you comforting me like a little colt is going to get rid of these 'moments' for more than a short while! And a temporary fix isn't enough to please HIM!” Obsidian bellowed.

"Who? Who are you trying to please, Obsidian?" I asked, as calmly as I could after being insulted like that. It wasn’t easy...

"Warlock. My dad," Obsidian said, then abruptly stormed off.

I was straining to hold back my own anger. I just stood where I was, and tried to make sense of all the information shoved at me by Obsidian. Then I heard a familiar voice, but with a distinctive hint of annoyance.

"What was THAT all about? You could've really hurt Lime back there!" Ink demanded.

Trying to keep the bitterness from my voice, I replied, "He looked like something was wrong with him, and I just wanted to make sure he was alright!"

"By flying straight AT him?" she asked, truly taken aback.

"It was the fastest way to get back on land!" I could feel my anger beginning to flare up, and judging by Ink's response, so could she.

"Okay, let's just slow down for a bit. What did you think was so wrong with my brother that you flew back around so abruptly?” Ink asked calmly.

I took a deep breath and responded, "Okay, his expression seemed unnatural, like something was wrong with him. Does that help?"

Ink pondered for a moment. "He was just fine up until the moment you took off.”

“Well, when I looked back at him he didn’t look ‘fine,’” I explained.

Ink finally pieced things together. "Vertigo," she sighed “I forgot Lime had vertigo,”

I had to ask her what vertigo was. Big shock, it's another kind of fear.

"What happened to Lime anyway?" I asked Ink.

She sighed heavily and said, "He was a bit frazzled, but once I told him about your fear thing, he calmed down a bit. He said he’d be happy to regroup at my place once we got things sorted out here."

I acknowledged what she said, and we both fell into an awkward silence.

"By the way, what was going on between you and Obsidian? " Ink asked.

I explained what happened, leaving out the insult.

"Not Warlock again," Ink whispered to herself “Did you see where Obsidian ran off too? You need to hear something.”

With a nod, I lead Ink toward a tree at the bottom of the cliff.

We found Obsidian sitting at the foot of the tree. Calling him upset would be a massive understatement.

“Obsidian, I think Metal should hear about ‘him’.”

He looked up at us, eyes glazed over from tears, and barely managed an “alright,” Obsidian then righted himself, cleared his throat, and told his tale:

“My father and I have always had a, unique relationship. You see, he has the same problem that I do. Because of this, he's made it his life’s goal to ‘help’ me gain control of my outbursts. I always tried my best to contain myself when I got aggravated, but it always ended the same way. One day, he plain and simply had enough of my ‘episodes.’ I was still a colt. That day he burned those words into my memory...

"I can’t take it anymore, Mage! You shouldn’t be my son!"

With a twirl of his staff he cast me out of his sight. The spell was was blindingly powerful and before I knew it,I was on the doorstep of an orphanage. The mark on my flank, my staff split in two, serves as a reminder of the day everything fell apart.

I had lost everything. It was at my lowest point in life that the door to the orphanage opened and I was taken in by none other than Ink’s parents. Until my mother returned from coast guard and found me again, they were the only ponies I could call ‘family.’”

“My mother took up work at the orphanage, and Ink's family, my mother and I have been friends ever since,” Obsidian Mage concluded. He seemed relieved to get that off his chest.

"Wow, I never thought that any father could be so cruel to their own son," I lamented, secretly doubting that his father would act that way without reason.

"At least now it’s in the past. Maybe we should visit the orphanage sometime. We can all catch up, and Metal, you can meet Ink and my family."

“Definitely,” I confirmed. “But first, there are some loose ends I need to tie up with Lime. You mind coming along?”

Agreeing, Obsidian helped lead the way to Ink’s townhouse. I guess I expected it to be a bit more spectacular on arrival.

Limestone was waiting for us in the foyer, looking notably apologetic. “Hi Metal,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry for everything that happened this afternoon.”

“It’s nothing. Like Ink said, I can’t tell when somepony is afraid,” I reassured.

Unexpectedly, Lime folded his ears back, “Well, that’s only part of it,” he paused. “Thing is, I’ve been keeping something from you: My name isn’t ‘Limestone’; it’s Limelight.” He revealed his mark: A theater mask with a gemstone beside it. “I am indeed a jeweler, but in reality, I have a passion for theater,” Limelight lamented.

“That’s great Limelight! Why would you want to hide that?” I queried.

He sighed, “Because I’m not proud of it! Dad always says that he doesn’t like theater, and I feel like my interests are just disappointing him,” he groaned and tucked his head into his hooves.

Getting a look behind Limelight, I saw Ink rummaging through a box of what appeared to be vinyl records, and eventually pulled one out using her writing assist.

I never considered using my writing aid design as a gripping device. But in Ink’s case, it does seem like something she might have come up with.

Ink set the vinyl on the platter of a nearby record player, started the table turning, and carefully dropped the needle into the first groove.

What followed was a very softly spoken, heartfelt lullaby. It sang verses of tranquility, hope, and love from a father to his children.

Limelight rose his head from his hooves. “That’s...” he began.

"...the lullaby dad played for us almost every night," Ink explained softly.

We sat in blissful silence as the soothing sounds came to a close. I felt an amazing sense of calmness, as though there were no longer any problems in the world.

Limelight slowly rose, gently stepped over to his sister, and wrapped his hooves around her. “You can’t be afraid, Lime. You should tell dad how you feel. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he will support you, no matter what," Ink comforted.

Limelight promised he would, then left the room, thanking us for our time. I looked over at Obsidian. He appeared to be lost in thought.

"Something on your mind?"

He snapped back to reality. "Oh, I was just listening to the lullaby. It got me thinking about my dad. Wondering if there was a reason he sent me away."

"He must have. Maybe you should talk to him sometime, get a real talk," I suggested.

Obsidian nodded. "I will, someday.”