Eons

by Captain Wuzz

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Dark, Drama
Length: 12708

The pain and pleasures of growing up as an immortal chaos god.

After learning that Discord is extremely unhappy about something, Fluttershy suggests that he write down what has been bothering him.

Discord has a LOT on his mind. It's not easy living for eons and growing up as the Spirit of Chaos.

Warnings: [spoiler]Talk of attempted suicide.[/spoiler] And chapter 4 details an [spoiler]abusive relationship.
[/spoiler]
The concept of [spoiler]Discord trying to take his own life by jumping off the cliff and denying it [/spoiler]is entirely alarajrogers' idea. The rest of the tale is mine.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-31 01:44:37 UTC

Chapter 1: Mommy Issues

I've apparently been missing for days.

When they found me, I was half-drowned, much to my chagrin you understand. I wasn't trying to half-drown myself, I was trying to whole-drown myself.

Of course, I couldn't let her know that, but she figured it out, as she always does. Flutter Nutter is smarter than some ponies give her credit for.

"I have gills, you know," I told her. "For goodness sakes, can't a guy go for a late night swim without being interrogated?"

She wasn't fooled. She never is. Maybe that's one of the things I find so intriguing about her. I can't seem to fool her and yet she still wants me around. I haven't figured that one out either.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked me.

"Not particularly."

"Discord, sometimes it can help to talk about things with a friend."

"What is there to talk about? I told you, it was a beautiful night and I felt like cliff diving and going for a swim to flex my marvellous gills."

"Well, okay. But I'm here if you need to talk."

Then she had covered me with a blanket, almost as if she was tucking me in. I spent the night on her couch, as I sometimes do after Tuesday Tea.

In the morning she was out feeding her animals, but she had left a bound book and a note for me on the coffee table. I reached for the note, feeling bleary eyed and rather sore. Needless to say, jumping off a cliff doesn't do your body any favours, even if you are a near-immortal chaos god. I unfolded the note:

Discord,

I know you don't feel like talking, and I understand, but I've always found that writing about my problems helps me. No one has to read your thoughts but you. I'm not asking you to share this with me. I'm just sharing what has worked for me.

If you start from the beginning, you can usually work out the end.

Your friend,

Fluttershy.

So I did. I started from the beginning.

I don't precisely remember when I first "appeared". My memory of that time is more like dipping in and out of a pool of fuzzy images, but there are some things I do remember.

I don't think I had parents, because I never saw any other draconequui. Scientists have tried to designate me into my own species, but since my official latin name is Draco equus, I am considered a member of the dragon family. I'm not sure how anyone figured that out. I won't let geneticists near me, so I suspect it has something to do with my morphology. But then, why am I called a Dragon Horse? Why not a Lion Horse or Snake Horse?

Dragons of Spike's persuasion are known by the rather unimaginative Draco draco. i.e. whichever taxonomist named them was too damn lazy to think of a species name. Dragons in the far east were given the name Draco tempestas. This is because they are weather workers, and can control the weather, a habit I find extremely laughable. Some ponies say I control the weather, but I don't really. I just make it more interesting.

I suppose I do look as if I'm related to dragons from the far east. In fact, Whinnypedia states that the "The ponies paint the dragon's shape with a horse's head and a snake's tail. Further, there are expressions as 'three joints' and 'nine resemblances' (of the dragon), to wit: from head to shoulder, from shoulder to breast, from breast to tail. These are the joints; as to the nine resemblances, they are the following: his antlers resemble those of a stag, his head that of a camel, his eyes those of a demon, his neck that of a snake, , his scales those of a carp, his claws those of an eagle, his soles those of a tiger, his ears those of a cow " but they cannot walk on their hind legs. And though they may look a bit horse-like, they are not related to ponies, whereas I have a pony head and a Pegasus wing. Quite apart from that, I'm pretty sure I came before Eastern dragons appeared on the scene, because there were none around when I first appeared in the rather barren world.  Then there's the added difference that I am incredibly sleek and handsome, whereas the bodies of Draco tempestas look like someone spilled an incredibly thick noodle across the floor.

I wasn't always such a hottie. I was quite a gangly colt and an even ganglier teenager. I didn't have horns as a colt. Ponies may not realize this, but horns in the dragon family --as well as my own family--  have nothing do with magic. They're secondary sexual characteristics (Please, ladies! Calm yourselves!). So my horns didn't come through until I hit puberty. Oh, what an interesting tale that will be.

But first, let's start with colthood.

The world back then was a rather barren place, with a few plants growing here and there. No trees, per se--just huge ferns and some moss. There were strange creatures in the oceans, that would sometimes come out onto the beaches. I'm pretty sure I fed on them.

Actually, I think I do have a first memory, and I remember it because it was a bad one. I remember being hungry.

My belly was growling at me and I had to find something to fill it with.

Because there was a lot of vegetation around, I decided to start with testing that out. Ferns back then were very spiky and tough, so they weren't easy on the mouth. I had to do a lot of chewing, and my teeth aren't that of someone who chews the cud. So masticating tough, woody leaves got very old very fast. I tried the moss next and if you've ever tasted that slimy feeling in the back of your throat when you've had one too many drinks, then you'll see why I abandoned that fast. There were no flowering plants back then so no fruit or nuts to feast on.

After the second day I was beginning to worry that I was never going to get anything to eat.

Then I saw it: a plant that looked very much like a fern, only the leaves were star-shaped. I felt it with my paw and it also had a softer texture than its woody cousins. The smell was earthy and minty at the same time and it made me salivate. Perhaps I should have taken a taste test at first, but I was so hungry I just grabbed a handful of them and shoved them into my gob. They tasted peppery and the flavour was welcome after days of trying to eat spiky, thorny ferns that hurt the soft parts of my mouth. It's probably because of my earliest experiences with edible plants that I seem to despise bland food. Only a theory, mind, but I definitely seem to have a weakness for flavours that are sharp and strong. Fluttershy once found me raiding her fridge in the middle of the night. She had a jar of capers in there and I was scooping them out with a spoon and shoving them into my mouth so I could savour the salty, briny mustard taste. Anything like that. When I've felt a bit peckish I've conjured up anchovies, blue cheese, garlic. I'm a sucker for garlic; I eat it raw. I could never be a vampire, so all that stuff parents used to tell their naughty foals about how if they misbehaved "Discord would suck their blood with his fang" is complete codswallop. As if I'd punish anyone for misbehaving.

I lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of a full belly, then decided I'd go down to the nearby spring and quench my thirst, so I got up to make my way over there, only...I couldn't. I was unable to move a muscle. I tried crying out, but the only sound that came out of my mouth was akin to a gurgling whine.

You've probably figured out what happened already, but just in case you hadn't...yes, I had manged to chomp down on something poisonous. I don't know how long I lay there trying to move my muscles; it could have been hours or days, but the simple fact was yours truly was immobile, and we should all know by now how I feel about that.  Inside my head I was screaming but I'm sure if there had been an observer they simply would have seen a draconequus colt with pupils the size of dinner plates making groaning sounds and salivating.

I could feel tears running down my face, but my limbs felt numb. Then the visual show started.

It was actually terrifying at the time. I could see everything. Patterns that went on and on and changed but didn't change. They looked like sea-horse tails and snail shells and giant bugs, and starfish and spines of long necked animals, but at the time I could make sense of none of it, especially since none of those things existed yet. At the same time all of these things seemed to be surrounding a dark black void, which felt incredibly ominous and threatening. It was as if at any moment the terrifying rollercoaster ride I was on would stop, only to throw me into the far more terrifying dark, endless void. The swirlling patterns made me feel sick and in my head I'm pretty sure I was screaming the word "no" over and over.

You poor thing.

"What?" I said, only I was speaking in my head. Any vocalisations were impossible at that moment in time.

So young and new, and you made your first mistake and it's going to be your last.

"Who is saying that? And what do you mean by my last?"

There was silence for a while, and I thought the voice had gone away, until it spoke again and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Well at least I would have done if I could move.

I'm...everything.

"Well that's very helpful," I snapped, though I still felt terrified beyond belief. "Wait...are you the plant I just ate?"

Something like that.

"How do I make this feeling stop?"

Don't worry little cub, it will all end soon.

My mouth felt dry. "You mean I'm going to die, don't you?"

Looks that way. Bit disappointing. I had hoped you'd be one of the tougher ones. I enjoyed your process.

"My process? Hey, I don't want to die!" More tears were streaming down my face now.

Well, my process, actually. The process of elimination. If you can't survive in the world I have processed then you clearly do not fit in it. I can't have my processes dying because of my process.

"What does that even mean?"

It doesn't mean anything. It just is. But there are rules, and the rules are if you cannot survive then you can't be part of the process.

In absolute terrror I shouted: "those are stupid rules!" I'm sure the gurgling noises I was making by then were becoming soft little sobs. I didn't want to die. I was very scared it was going to hurt.

They are neither stupid nor logical rules- they are simply what work. You don't work, therefore you have to die, to make room for other more worthy creations.

"Creations? I'm a creation?"

You are my creation.

"But you're a plant."

Oh little one, I am everything. You are seeing me right now, dancing before your eyes.

The patterns continued to swirl and change while the ominous void loomed in my periphery. For a second I considered asking what it was, but I was afraid of the answer.

"Why would you kill me if you created me?"

Because you don't work.

"Who wrote that stupid rulebook? How do you know I don't work just because I made one mistake?"

Because it was a fatal mistake.

"So fix it! If you created me then you can stop me from dying! Besides, it's not really my mistake is it? It's your process, and your process was faulty so it's actually your mistake and  I shouldn't have to be the one to pay for it. You created the plant and there were no warning signs that it was not good to eat. Whereas those other plants taste bland and horrible and yucky and who would want to eat them? This plant smelt and tasted good so I ate it. Why should something that tastes good kill you? That doesn't make any sense. Your plant is faulty."

There was a terrible silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hello?" I said tentatively.

You're saying the plant should be the one to die, but the plant suceeded in carrying out it's defense.

"No it didn't, I still ate it! I ate most of it. If it didn't want me to eat it, then it shouldn't have been so delicious. Your plant was stupid. It's the thing that doesn't belong here."

That seems non-sensical. The poison was an effective toxin.

"Maybe it would have been effective it it worked right away, but I was able to enjoy a four course dinner of foliage before I realized anything was amiss."

There was an even longer silence this time, then, to my surprise:

What do you suggest?

My mind flailed wildly then I said:

"If I suggest something will you spare my life?"

I still don't think that's the best course of action.

"How will you know if you end my life? It could well be the best course of action and you'll have missed out because of stupid, rigid rules. How is anything supposed to be properly tested if there's no room for maneuver?" I'm pretty sure fear was the only thing keeping me talking at this point, as I was beginning to feel quite nauseated.

Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound and I began to move along the changing swirling patterns at a faster rate.

"Wait, no!" I screamed. This was it, I was going to die.  Then that black, huge void opened and the swirlling patterns vanished as it swallowed me up. "No no no no no no noooo!"

I realized my limbs were thrashing around in the air when I opened my eyes.

I was alive! Awake and alive! Alive and kicking! I showed that plant! Who's the loser now?

Then I turned over and threw up.

While I had certainly learnt my lesson about eating too much too fast, I was incredibly thirsty, so I managed to shakily make my way to the spring, where I drank tentatively at first. I was severely dehydrated, and this was only made worse in the coming days because...well, let's just say it's a pity toilet paper hadn't been invented yet.

But I stayed near the spring (and used the toilet far away from it), nursing myself back to health with fresh water. I lay down on a smooth flat rock, watching the sunshine ripple on the water.

Little one.

I leapt to my feet and looked around wildly for the source of the voice. Were the effects of the plant still happening?

Don't be afraid.

"Where are you?" I said, fearfully.

Inside you.

That was not a comforting thing to hear.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" I whimpered.

It was the only way I could save you.

"Save me?" I felt confused for a moment. I had assumed everything that had happened with the plant and the visions had merely been a hallucination- a frightfully real and nauseating hallucination, but a hallucination nonetheless.

Yes, I thought about what you said to me, about flexibility and room for maneuver. I have decided I like your thought process. I have decided I like your process.

"Now gracious of you."

The way you speak as if you are not afraid of me is part of your process.

I was silent for a bit then asked: "So you made me, huh?"

You are a test. I am testing my creations. It is because you are a test that I have let you live.

"How do I know I'm not just going mad?"

Would you be asking yourself that if you truly were mad?

"Stop answering all my questions with questions! Why are you inside my head? You said it was the only way to save me but I don't understand why."

Nothing can reverse death. That is a rule I intend to stick to, despite your protestations.. However, you were on the brink of death instead of actually dead, so here we are.

My head hurt. "You haven't answered my question."

You are full of questions, aren't you?

"Well...yes! What was that weird dark space I saw?" I shuddered even as I let the question leave my lips.

That is everything I'm not.

"And the stuff around it?"

That is me. It's also you now.

"If we're the same person, then how am I talking to you? Am I talking to myself?"

You are a very inquisitive child.

"Well you made me."

I had the oddest sensation that the voice was smiling at me.

That I did, little one.

Then I felt warm and calm, like I was being held, and I curled up on my rock and fell asleep.

It was nightfall when I woke up, and the stars were splashed across the sky. In a weird way, I noted some of the clusters of stars looked very similar to the patterns I had seen when I had eaten the plant.

Let me guess, you have another question for me.

"Kinda," I said, fidgeting. "If you're me, and I'm you, and the plant was also you, then are those stars up there you as well?"

I'm everything.

"But you said that black stuff wasn't you."

See the black stuff around the stars?

"The sky?"

No, the area around the stars. That is not me. That is nothing.

Nothing seemed to go on forever, but unlike the undulating patterns I had seen, seemed to never change. It was always black. Not a friendly, welcoming black like the feathers of a crow that seemed to change in the light, but a still, unmoving black. I shivered.

I am tired of nothing. I need to be able to stretch and grow.

"Did you make others like me?"

You are the only one like you.

My ears drooped. The voice seemed to notice my sadness.

While there may not be others exactly like you, there are others. I told you I was testing out my creations.

"Can I see one?"

You may. Tomorrow, after you've rested a bit more and eaten something.

The minute the voice relayed this to me my stomach rumbled.

"I want something good to eat."

You can have something now.

I waited. "Okay....where is it?"

You can make it yourself.

"Make food? How am I supposed to do that?"

You didn't like the plant I made, so let's improve on it.

"I don't know how."

Just relax.

The rollercoaster of patterns was suddenly there again, rocketing across my vision. I cried out and fell off the rock.

"I don't like it," I said, bursting into tears. "It's scary!"

That's because you're fighting it. You need to relax.

"I don't wanna relax! I'm tired and I'm hungry!" I was sobbing uncontrollably now.

Oh little one, it's been a long day, hasn't it?

"Yes!" I shouted angrily. "It has!"

Okay, I'll field this one. And I promise you it isn't poisonous.

Instantly my nostrils filled with the most delicious, sweet smell, and a large fleshy object coloured like a sunset appeared before me. I sniffed at it.

"What is it?" I said suspiciously, even though I was salivating. I'd been fooled by tantalizing smells before.

I haven't decided what to call it yet. But I promise you it won't hurt you.

I thought for a minute. If the voice had wanted me to die then it wouldn't have brought me back from the brink. On the other hand this could be some kind of weird trick. But I knew that if I didn't eat soon I was going to get very sick or even die. What choice did I have? I bent over the fleshy object and gave it one more cautionary sniff, then I took the plunge.

Instantly my taste buds was innundated with the most delightful sensation. The sweet flesh was high in water content and I devoured it ravenously, no longer caring one way or the other about how safe it was to eat. To this day I'm not sure what it was, but the taste was akin to a mango. It may have been some kind of proto fruit. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

When I had eaten my fill, I look around at nothing in particular and said to whoever was listening "thank you."

You're very welcome, Little One.

I curled up on the rock and slept under the stars.

The next morning is when I met Hubert.

Hubert was what palaentologists now call a Butter Dragon. They are unfortunately now extinct, which is a shame because I'm sure Fluttershy would love them. They have a dragon-like body with the enormous wings and head of a butterfly.

However, when I met Hubert he was in his juvenile stage. He had not yet sprouted wings, and moves around more like a snake on his belly. He also seemed to thrive on eating the poisonous plant that had reacted so badly with me.

"I told you that plant was rubbish," I said. I could have sworn I heard the voice haarumph.

Anyway, Hubert had passed her test, so he carried on living. He was actually a very cute, snuffly thing in his infant stage. I was the one who decided to name him Hubert. When the voice asked me why I told it that he simply looked like a Hubert.

You are a decidedly odd one.

You have to understand, at the time I was still a colt, so I was not all that interested in the voice's insistence that I help it create things. I just wanted to play with Hubert and climb up big ferns and go swimming. Plus those patterns were intense and scary and I did not like them at all.

One day I went to check on Hubert only to find something terrible had happened to him. He was surrounded by a tough, silvery coating that looked like a fine mesh cylindrical net.

"Help!" I cried out to the voice. "It's Hubert! I think something's eaten him!" I was near hysterical. I'd grown rather attached to his snuffling presence and I was horrified that he would die.

Oh, child. Hubert is fine. He's just gone to sleep for a while.

I wasn't convinced, and continued to bawl uncontrollably.

"I don't want him to go to sleep! Wake up, Hubert! Make him wake up!"

I felt the presence of the patterns and voice curl around me, as if it was trying to comfort me.

He will wake up, and then you can help me with the next stage.

I spent weeks checking on the sleeping Hubert. The only way I knew he wasn't dead was the cylindrical thing he was enclosed in would give a twitch now and then. I wondered if he dreamnt about anything when he was in there.

To cut a long story short, Hubert, of course became a beautiful Butter Dragon once he emerged from his cocoon. His wings seemed to change colour in the sunlight--from purple, to blue to green. I was so excited when it happened that I nearly forgot about the voice telling me I was supposed to help him with his next stage.

Well?

"Well what?"

What are you going to feed him?

"What do you mean? There's plenty of that plant left that he likes."

That was what he ate when he was a baby. He can't eat that now.

I noticed Hubert no longer had the jaws he used to munch his way through the stems and leaves of the toxic fern that had made yours truly hurl heartily. Instead, he sported a structure that coiled up under his face.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

I can show you.

I thought of the frightening patterns and bunched my paw and talon into fists. "No," I said simply.

Hubert needs to eat. You know what happens to things when they don't eat...

I looked over at Hubert and his adorable puzzled face. He tilted his head at me and my heart sank.

"It...it won't hurt, will it?" I said quietly.

It won't hurt, but you have to stop fighting it. I can show you how to make things. And you can help me, because you have a different perspective on things.

My mouth felt dry, but I agreed and nodded.

The patterns hit me instantaneously. I nearly shouted at the voice to take it gradually, but then I remember it had said not to fight it. I tried willing myself to relax but everything was moving so fast it seemed antithetical.

"Whu...what do I do now?" I said.

Relax.

I realized my body was extremely tense. I tried willing my muscles to ease up.

For Hubert, I thought. Then I thought of the way a cool stream feels when you swim in it and the patterns slowed down.

That's more like it. Now, pick one.

"Huh?"

One of the patterns. Pick one.

Something that looked very much like a star was floating past my head and I pointed to it.

Very good, now what will you do with it?

"Um, make it into food for Hubert? But Hubert can't eat stars, they're made of fire and that will hurt him. I want a soft, cool thing like a star that tastes sweet like that thing I ate, only Hubert can reach it with that coiled up thing, so it has to be in pieces small enough for him to drink up."

I felt a jolt in my body and the patterns disappeared, leaving me with just the one, floating in front of me.

What is it?

"I don't know. But is it safe for Hubert to eat?"

Did you tell the pattern to make it not safe to eat?

"No."

Then it's safe to eat.

And it was. Hubert uncoiled his proboscis and drank from the first flower.

That gives me an idea, actually.

"Really? What's the idea."

I'll tell you when you're older. But I think I've hit on a way to make more creations without me having too much input.

"No, tell me now!"

While I did not, indeed, find out until I was older what her idea was, I did see the fruits of it early on. It was night time, and under the trunk of a big tree we had created, a strange beast that looked like a cross between a modern day bird and a lizard was running in and out of its burrow. All of a sudden, it was followed by three minature versions of itself, each mimicking the run of the larger one and bobbing its head up and down in the same way.

"Why are those things smaller than the big one? And how did they get here?"

The original one is the mother, and the little ones are its children, and I told you, you'll find out the rest when you're older.

I thought for a minute, then said "If you made me, does that make you my mother?"

I suppose it does.

"Cool!" I snuggled down into the mossy roots of the tree. The white night flowers began to open and fill the air with their scent and insects began to peruse them. Above in the branches of the tree, Hubert snored softly.

That is the first time I remember feeling happy.

Chapter 2: Slate Wipers

After I was allowed to leave the hospital Fluttershy escorted me back to hers so she could continue to look after me while I rested.

It's almost laughable when I think about it now, and it must have been to passer's by as well--the sight of a slight, dainty yellow pegasus leading me by the paw as I tried to walk without wincing. It was more of a shuffle than a walk. It wasn't just that I felt sore all over and was stuffed with painkillers. It was also the trembling. It's the same kind of trembling one feels after you've had a tremendous shock, and then it feels as if all the life that left your body is rushing back into it and it's far too much to take.

So I was trembling when Fluttershy led me to the couch then put the tea kettle on. She brought me the blanket and told me I should get some rest.

I've been on her couch for the past few nights. There’s been a lot of moaning and groaning from me because I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Except I hadn’t; I’d jumped off a cliff, which is probably a pretty fair equivalent.

However, when I woke up on the couch this morning there was someone under the blanket with me.

She was curled up, her head resting on my neck and her hoof over my chest. Her pink mane pooled on my feathers and on either side of me.

I nearly started crying then and there. She was that worried about me that she was actually holding me while I slept . As if she was afraid I'd try to leave again. Not an entirely unfounded fear--The thought had crossed my mind; The thought of boarding the night train again and taking it to Horsehoe Bay, where the cliff was.

I craned my neck slightly and looked down at the snoozing pegasus. Truth be told I didn't know what to do with her. It had been so long since I'd been held by anyone, and those were in far less innocent circumstances than this one. Touch is an odd thing at the moment. When you haven't felt the touch of anything for a thousand plus years, it...takes some getting used to again.

"Did writing down stuff help a little?" came the soft voice. She was awake, and her voice carried such a gentle tone that it didn't even startle me.

"Not sure. I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to be writing."

"Write what you feel like writing. Whatever makes you feel better. That's what I do.”

She shifted so that she was sitting upright now, and she began to tidy her mane.

“Better about what?” I responded.

She seemed to choose her next words carefully. “Well, you just fell off a cliff,” she said. “You can’t be feeling too good about that.”

“Oh…yeah. But I figure all I need is some bedrest and I’ll be okay. After all, isn’t that why I’m here? Doctor’s orders and all that.”

In truth I think it was more that Fluttershy was afraid to let me out of her sight for the foreseeable future. Yes, the doctor had told us that I needed someone with me for the next few weeks while she made regular house calls to see if my condition was improving, but Fluttershy had offered to be the pony who looked after me. I suspect it was going to pan out that way anyway, given that everyone else isn’t exactly bosom buddies with me. Or even affable acquaintances.

Fluttershy was piling her mane up in a bun while she searched the living room for a stray hair pin. “Yes,” she said, “but I think writing about how we feel can also help.”

“Did you read that in a self-help book?” I said, perhaps a little too snarkily.

She shot me a look that wasn’t quite “The Stare” but was verging on it. I cringed slightly under the blankets.

Her eyes softened at me. She gave up on her hair bun and her mane tumbled down around her shoulders again. For some reason I poked my head above the blankets again to get a better view at the sight. It was a rather lovely one.

“Discord,” she said, making me jump slightly. “If you’re not going to talk to me about what happened then you at least owe it to yourself to talk about it.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’, Mister.”

“What’s the point if no one is going to read it?”

“Would you like me to read it?”

“Erm…I didn’t say that. I just…it feels like I’m talking to myself, and believe me I’ve done enough of that.”

“I find that if I write down about everything surrounding an…um…situation, then even if I’m not focusing on what’s bothering me at the moment, it can usually make things clearer in my head. Then I find out things about myself that I hadn’t realized were there.”

“Like a third head?”

“Third?”

“Never mind,” I said. My attempt at joking/deflecting the conversation had fallen flat. I tried sitting up and winced a little.

“Oh, my,” said Fluttershy. “I guess I should make breakfast and then it’s time for painkillers.”

“Both of those things would certainly be nice,” I admitted. She smiled softly at me and went to start the preparation of the food. I glanced down at the hardbound plain notebook on the coffee table and sighed. She had told me to write about everything, including things that made me feel better.

Reminiscing about Hubert was quite nice. I think I'll do more of that.

I spent a great deal of my time playing with my newfound pet. His wings were the most amazing colours. I can’t even describe them accurately when I remember them. If you’ve ever seen the iridescent wings of a Morpho butterfly, then I assure you they pale in comparison to what Hubert’s wings looked like. There were incredible purples, and pinks and blues in his wings, and sometimes greens depending on how the light hit them.

Now, this may come as a shock to you, but I didn't turn out to be the most compliant of Mother Nature's sons.

I was a kid. I wanted to spend most of my time playing and eating. Plus I had newly discovered powers! I used a lot of this power to mostly conjure up yummy things for Hubert and I to eat, but I wasn’t exactly the creative virtuoso I am today.

There were plenty of things Nature wanted me to do, but I pretty much told her in no uncertain terms to buck off and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it since she had placed a part of me in herself and I would live for as long as she did. I was still susceptible to disease, and pain, but for the most part I was stuck in this world, as was made so blatantly clear a few days ago when my body was pulled from the water covered in seaweed.

Little One, I think we should work on some more processes today.

“I don’t feel like it.”

Why not?

“Because I want to do other things!” I shrieked as I cannonballed into the nearby spring. Water splashed everywhere and Hubert made a buzzing sound that resembled laughter.

I could really use your creative input.

“I don’t waaaannna,” I whined. It was a beautiful day and I had planned to annoy some giant woodlice by making them roll into balls and catapulting them into the nearby bushes with a sling I had fashioned out of a rubber plant.

May I remind you why you are here.

“You may,” I said snottily.

You would be dead without me.

“It was because of you that I nearly died,” I countered. “You and your stupid plant.”

If you don’t learn how to use the powers I gave you properly it could come back to bite you in the arse.

“Aggh! Alright. Fine, I suppose I could do it for a little while.”

I hated “lessons” as she called them. I had trouble sitting still. There was so much to explore and now the world was a much more beautiful place. It wasn’t just dry woody ferns and crab-like creatures. It was flying reptiles and flowers that smelt like rotten meat and giant insects. Not to mention all the forest to explore. Some of these things were our own creations, but most of them had grown out of whatever mysterious process Nature was using to further the species. One I still wasn’t privy too.

I was angry at her for not telling me what it was, so I decided I was going to be a massive bitch when it came to lessons.

Discord. Discord? Discord! Are you even listening to me?

“Not particularly.”

For goodness sakes, Child. I’m trying to work here and you are ruining everything.

“I rather thought I improved it,” I said, admiring the creature I had just made swim around the shallow waters I was standing in.

Those trilobites were supposed to be free to swim around when and where they pleased.

“And they are. I’ve just made it a bit more challenging.”

The predatory creature that looked like a cross between an armour-plated squid and giant shrimp dived down and grabbed another trilobite hungrily.

You are such a handful…

One of the things she and I didn't see eye to eye on was what she called “Slate Wiping”.

Every few millions of years or so, Nature will decide that whatever it was she created, or whatever had evolved of its own accord wasn't working for her. So she destroyed it, whether it be via giant meteorite, change of climate or tidal wave. Sometimes she opted for all of the above.

The most famous of these incidents is the one that killed off most of the dinosaurs. I say “most of” because a great deal of them did eventually evolve into birds and dragons. But then, that was part of her little game, you see: Let's see which species are worthy of surviving a catastrophe. Though this is the most famous, probably because it was the last one before ponykind came along, there was one much worse. Palaeontologists now refer to it as The Great Dying, which makes it kind of sound like a pony prog rock band instead of the horror it actually was.

I can practically hear you now.  "But Discord!" you say. "I thought you loved chaos and mayhem!?"

Well, yes I do. And truth be told I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy watching new forms arise from slate wiping, but it was the other aspect of the process I wasn't so keen on--the one that held a lot more finality.

Some of the things that disappeared didn’t get to evolve. In fact, they never came back. They were a dead end, and I really didn’t like that.

Perhaps reminiscing about Hubert wasn't the best of ideas.

“I’ve got some tea,” said Fluttershy. I looked up from the notebook, startled at the sound of her voice.

“Discord…you’re crying,” she said.

“What?” I said, completely surprised when I pressed my paw to my face and felt wetness there.

“I’m sorry I took so long with the painkillers,” she said and opened a packet of powder, which she stirred into my tea.

I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah,” I said. “The pain is getting to be a tad unbearable.”

I held the mug between my talon and paw, enjoying the warm feel of the ceramic against them then sipped the hot liquid. Fluttershy was now checking my bandages. “This one needs changing,” she said softly. “I’ll do that once the painkillers start to take effect.”

I snuck a glance at her as she turned her attention back to the tea tray. She’s a curious little thing. From the very beginning she seems to have shown no fear of me. Even in the maze it was as if she was greeting an old friend. I couldn’t even smell fear on her, and it is unfortunately a smell I am wholly familiar with.

She befriended me when I was released by Celestia. Something I was pretty sure was some kind of cruel joke at first, so I responded in kind.

But it wasn’t a joke. Fluttershy isn’t cruel. I mean, that goes without saying given the Element she represents, but I’m baffled all the same. I’m not a good person, despite Fluttershy’s insistence that I am. Only months before I had handed her over like a piece of meat to a madman because I thought I could have my cake and eat it too. Tell me, is that what someone who is a “good person” would do? No,it isn’t.  It’s what someone like Xolotl would do.

I felt my stomach heave slightly as I remembered that name.

I had been so lost in thought that I completely missed the fact that Fluttershy had changed my bandage for a fresh one.

“There,” she said, smoothing it down, “that should do for now.” She had also left breakfast for me on the coffee table: scrambled eggs with bits of spicy pepper and onion in them. She knows I like strong-tasting food.

“I’ve got to go out and feed the animals now,” she said. “But I’ll be back just before lunchtime to see how you’re doing.”  She placed a hoof on the side of my face and my ears automatically flattened at the feel of it. Then she was out the door, carrying her basket of carrots and oats.

I opened the book and looked at the last line I had written:

“I hated her in that moment because she took Hubert from me.”

Chapter 4: The Dog God

Don't wanna be dead to life

Don't wanna be dulled to extinction

Don't wanna be lost in dreams

Don't wanna be caught sleepwalking

Maybe I should break the chain

Maybe I should break the connection

Such strange little birds

Devoured by our obsessions

Why we kill the things we love the most

Kill the things we love

Kill the things we love the most

-Garbage

They say your first love cuts the deepest.

What they don't tell you is that your first love is usually someone you've picked for wholly stupid reasons. Really, looking back on him, he wasn't really that great. He was a lousy lay, and I've had plenty to compare it to. He was also very strong and powerful.

Like I said. Stupid reasons.

I first encountered the dog god when I was roaming the Amarezon. Mother Nature and I weren't really on speaking terms around that time (more on that later) but I still had my magic. She had placed it in me, and while my link with her was temporarily broken, I was independent of her for that reason.

I was swinging through the canopy when I first encountered his presence. I say his "presence" instead of corporeal self, because like me, he is an aspect of nature.

There was lots of colour up here in the canopy. Lots of different looking creatures too, but a lot of them were very boring looking brown things. So I made them have ridiculously big beaks, or really long tails, or humongous eyes and very long snouts, and pink bottoms...you get the idea. I even started fights among warring species, which was a delight to watch, I can tell you. The howler monkeys vs. the macaws was especially entertaining.

But while I was enjoying the spectacle, I came across something I'm sure wasn't mine. I mean, I find it hard to concentrate on one thing for very long, but I was fairly certain I had not made the creature in front of me. Its arm looked swollen. I fact, it looked like it did not fit the rest of its body, and it was making a wailing sound. I cocked my head at it. Well, it was a delightfully different creature, that was certain, but I had no memory of making it. After a beat it wailed once more and disappeared into the thick canopy.

I forgot about it over the next few days, until I came across another oddity which I'm sure I was not the cause of. It took me a while to notice it, because for the most part it looked like one of mine, until I noticed the parrot in front of me had three eyes, and its beak was twisted.

What a delightfully bizarre looking creature!

What was going on? Was someone doing this? Was someone creating creatures like I was?

I had been alone for some time. Nature had once told me there weren't others like me. But did she mean they weren't exactly like me or did she mean there weren't other immortal beings?

I sniffed at the bird. It smelt overly sweet, like rotten fruit. It wasn't a pleasant smell, but now that I had it I could pick up my mystery date's trail.

It took me a few days, but I finally came to a cave near a running stream. The water looked tepid and there were dead fish floating on the surface.

"Hello?" I called, but only my own voice echoed back at me.

"Butts!" I shouted, and the word bounced back at me once more. I snickered. "Tail hole!" I shouted out, grinning. A twig snapped behind me, and I whirled round and came face to face with a huge skull-like dog face. He was stocky, more than anything, like a deformed huge bulldog, only much more square and muscley.

"What do you want?" he breathed at me. And I was hit by that cloying smell again.

"Why, to talk of course," I said, grinning, and trying to not show that I was metaphorically crapping my pants. At least I would be if I wore any pants.

He smirked at me and began circling me as if I was prey.

"You're a rather unusual looking one," said the dog god.

"I could say the same about you."

A loud barking laugh came from the stranger's throat.

"I'm going to enjoy you," he said.

"I can assure you I'm very chewy."

The creature laugh-barked again. "What makes you think I want to eat you?"

"Well what is it you do want? Sex? Because I only kiss on the sixth date, and only after I've been worshipped mercilessly. Brushing my fur helps."

"It's not sex either," he said, but the way he was eyeing me up made me skeptical about that.

"What then?" I asked.

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm. He felt cold, very cold and I could feel my strength being sapped from me. I smacked him in the face with my tail in surprise, then I dealt him a blow of magic for good measure.

He rocketed across the forest floor and slammed into a tree.

"What?" was his response, when he had righted himself once more.

"Well I didn't expect such a rude welcome," I said, my nose in the air. "If I had known you were such a killjoy I would never have come!"

"Wait, why are you here?"

"Well," I said, flashing onto a branch above him. "I was minding my own business when I came across the most delightful handiwork."

I pulled the three-eyed parrot out of a pocket in the side of my body.

"Where were you keeping that?"

"It doesn't matter," I said quickly. "The point is it exists. Where did you learn how to harness chaos like that?"

"Chaos?"

"Well, sure. Are you like me? Because this is what I do. I make things different."

He cocked his head at me. "You change things too?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, look at me. Do I look like one of those brown, boring things in the treetops? Or do I look smolderingly bangin'?"

"You...certainly look interesting." He eyed my antler and goat horn."What do you mean by chaos?"

"I mean change. Upheaval. Creativity. I mean, a three eyed bird? Genius!" I slapped my thigh and grinned.

"It's what I do," said the dog.

"It's what I do too! I made birds with beaks twice the length of their bodies!"

He eyed me coldly. In hindsight that really should have been something I was on the look out for, but at the time I was too excited. I'd found someone like me! Finally, I wasn't alone. Buck you, Mother Nature!

"So," said the dog. "How about a partnership? We make things together?"

I was too hasty in accepting his offer. Way too bloody hasty.

His name was Xolotol. He was a godlike being like me, and he changed things like me, and I was so goddamn happy to finally have someone who understood me! Xolotol had his faults, but in my blind infatuation I had simply come to view them as quirks. After all, I looked strange to other beings. No one understood but him and me. I licked the sores on his face at night, nuzzling him in the cave. He got sores often, a symptom of what he was, though I didn't know it at the time.

"No one wanted to be with me until you," he said one night.

I had never had anyone say that to me before. It made me feel so needed and wanted. "Likewise," I whispered. I could feel him sob as I rested my head on his back.

I was barely out of colthood. But that didn't matter to Xolotl, and to be honest, at the time it didn't really matter to me. Does anything matter when you are both millions of years old? Like I said, I age very slowly, and Xolotol did too, even if he was older than me.

I also began to learn that his magic was different than mine. It was kind of disturbing in hindsight. Mine created things, and while on the surface it looked like he was being creative like me, what he was actually doing was destroying and deforming.

I'm not opposed to deforming. I think it can be hilarious. Think of a pony with a giant butt, or a crow with buck teeth. You can't NOT find those things funny.

But the destroying part I had a harder time with. But I said nothing, because Xolotol needed me, and I needed him. I...I loved him.

Stupid Discord. Stupid Stupid Stupid.

It had all started off so well. But nothing is static. And eventually, our differences came to a head.

Xolotol had killed something, as was his way, and I didn't like it. It reminded me of Hubert.

It was a toucan, and it was lying there on the forest floor looking very sorry. Ants were already started to crawl over it, aiming for the eyes first.

"Shoo!" I said, brushing them off with my tail tuft.

I looked furtively over my shoulder, then pressed my paw down on the bird. "Wake up," I whispered. Nothing happened.

"Please wake up. Don't let it be like Hubert again." I felt my eyes starting to sting.

When I lost Hubert, I had been unable to do anything. I wondered if I could do anything now. I concentrated hard, swimming through the patterns. When I opened my eyes the toucan was wriggling.

"Yes!"

I stroked its feathered back with my paw, and eventually it hopped in front of me then took off into the canopy.

"Why did you do that?" came a low growl from behind me.

"I..."

"I thought the agreement was we would change things together."

"Yeah, I said change not kill. Dead stuff is boring. It doesn't move. It doesn't react. How can that possibly be fun?"

"Fun? Who said anything about fun?"

"Don't you enjoy doing this stuff?"

"It's what I'm supposed to do."

"That's not what I asked. I mean, I thought you liked changing animals into funny shapes."

"Why do you think the animals I make into funny shapes are that way?"

"Because it's amusing?"

"No, it's because I am decay and deformity. And you've just spat on what I am by making that bird alive again."

"I did nothing of the kind," I snapped. "I just improved on your handiwork."

Xolotol was looking at me now with a pained expression, but it quickly turned into one of resolve.

"Meet me back at the cave," he said.

That nights activities were not at all tender. He pushed me onto the cave floor with his big paw and was rougher than I would have liked.

"Not so hard!" I growled.

"Shut up," he responded.

I gritted my teeth in anger and set his tail on fire.

"WHAT. WHAT." That did it, he was off me in a flash, running around the cave, screaming and howling, until eventually the more logical part of his brain kicked in and he ran towards the stream and sat down in it. I heard him sigh with relief as the cool water rushed over him.

Then his voice sounded very low and dangerous. "You're messed up, Discord," he said.

I suddenly had the terrible fear that he was going to leave. I would be alone in the world once more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I shouted, and ran towards him.

"Get away from me!" he snarled.

"But...but..."

"Bloody freak," he snarled.

"No, please. I can make it better! I'm sorry!" I began to cry.

"What is wrong with you?" he said.

That night I slept in a corner of the cave, away from Xolotl, weeping softly with my tail tuft covering my face.

It went on like that for years. He would do something I didn't like, and I would say so, or do something in defiance and he would threaten to leave and told me no one else would ever understand me.

Until one day, things took a turn for the worst.

Xolotl was in a bad mood already when he came home. Apparently he had not come across anything to decay that day expect trees. I was poking at one of his dead fish and looking unimpressed, and I think that motion alone made him snap. Well, really perhaps it was the years of tension, but that was the straw that broke the camels back.

"You miserable little tease," he snarled at me. "All day long you act like you're such hot shit. I don't know why I put up with it."

I really didn't feel like listening to one of his diatribes today.

"Maybe it's because you're ugly," I said, half-jokingly. "And boring."

His huge form moved towards me. I wasn't too worried. I had my magic to protect me.

"You think you can do whatever you want, don't you?" he said to me. "You think you have a say in all this? What do you think happens to all your 'wonderful creations' eventually? They die. Everything dies. It's a fact of life. But oh no, you think you're special and different. Really, you're nothing but an arrogant little worm. There's only one reason to keep you around, and you'd better not set my tail on fire."

Then he was on me, and I froze.

When I say I froze I mean I couldn't use my magic to defend myself. To this day I can't really understand why. I just knew that someone who I thought cared about me was pinning me down and hurting me.

"Get...off..." I said through gritted teeth and then his big paw hit me across the face and I was blinded by pain.

You have to understand, that when I say pain, I don't necessarily mean physical pain. Oh, there was some of that, but mostly I felt shock at the situation. I was shocked into silence; not just the silence of speech but the silence of everything. He had never hit me before. I couldn't use my magic, I couldn't will myself to bite or scratch, because I couldn't quite believe this was happening. I did not want to believe it was happening. He was supposed to be my partner. Someone who understood me.

There was some fumbling and then a different kind of physical and emotional pain overtook me as I realized what he was doing.

I stared up at the light coming through the leaves in the canopy high above me. I could hear birds singing but they sounded distant as if their cries were muffled. I don't remember much of what happened inbetween then and the moment Xolotl rolled off me. For all I know minutes or hours could have passed by.

"I'm going to have a bath," he grunted, and walked down towards the river.

I rolled away from him and curled inwards as his footsteps became fainter.

I began to shudder as all the feeling came back into my body and then I was crying. I felt sore in places I didn't even know existed. I conjured up some mushed up fruit and tried tending to the pain as best I could but all I did was make a mess and make my fur and feathers stickier and I began crying again out of frustration and sheer desperation.I remember sleeping in the canopy that night. It just felt safer, and worked as a makeshift shower. I could hear the trickle of rain as it navigated the vertical maze of leaves and the uneven sound comforted me. It was the only thing that comforted me. I no longer had the feeling of being held by nature, instead my eyes prickled with tears and rage as I realized she had not lifted a finger to help me.

Then something insufferably stupid happened. Xolotl told me he was sorry, and that he hadn't meant to hurt me. He just caught up in the heat of the moment, and he would never do so again. I flinched.

"Don't touch me," I growled when he reached for me with his paw.

"Aw, Discord. Don't be like that. You know I can be hot-headed sometimes. I...I just got so angry that you didn't appreciate what I was doing. What can I do to make it up to you?"

My ears perked up at this. I was being given the upper hand again. Xolotl was practically grovelling at my feet. He made pathetic whining sounds and his ears were flat against his head.

"Promise me that will never happen again," I said firmly. "And today we get to do what I want with my chaos."

"Discord..." he reached for me with his paw as if to pull me into an embrace, but I stepped back.

"Ah, ah, ah! Promise me," I said.

"I promise. I'm so sorry, my little coyote," he said to me, tears in his eyes. And then I did let him run his paw across my face. To be honest, it felt good. It felt good because it was a loving paw again, instead of the rigid, controlling one he had used on me the other night as he pinned me down. It was as if there were two different Xolotls, and the one from the other night was a monster I would never see again. I let him nuzzle me and stroke my face, my feathers fluffing up as they responded to his touch.

"I am a terrible person, Discord," whispered Xolotl as he ran his muzzle through my feathers.

"Perhaps," I said, not that kindly. "But we all make mistakes."

Boy, do we.

My first mistake was forgiving him in the first place. Never forgive, Discord! You know this.

He just kept doing it, and I kept forgiving him, because dammit, I wanted things to be the way they were from the start. Who else was there to talk to about these things?

I hated being overpowered and used for sex, but I put up with it for some reason. I went off into lala land whenever it happened. Just stared at the sky...

I put the journal down. It was after sunset and I hadn't even noticed that the room was dark. (Predator eyes, you see.) I didn't feel like writing anymore. Because the truth is, I kind of understood how he felt. How no one likes what you are, and you can't make them see the beauty. You can't make them see the beauty of chaos. And that's probably how Xolotol felt about his powers.

The thought that I might understand him made me feel nauseated. I was a bad person too. Is that what I made Fluttershy feel like? No, it couldn't be. She didn't have feelings for me.

But I made her cry.

I was starting to think about the cliff again, when she was back in the room, moving towards me.

"Discord, are you okay?"

I didn't reply, just sat there in the darkness, watching her.

She turned and walked back up the stairs, likely assuming that I was asleep.

I watched her vanish into her bedroom. I don't know why I ached so much for the contact of another being after what had happened to me. I just knew I did, and I curled up, trying not to let memories keep me awake and fill my heart with the terrible heaviness.

Chapter 3: We could steal time, just for one day

I had trouble writing anything in the journal today, because something else has been preoccupying my mind for some time now. I've been keeping it under wraps because it's not quite the kind of thing I would enjoy making headline news.

The thing is, Tirek did something to me that I don't quite understand. Now, I've had my share of manipulative magic thrown my way. I've even (shock, horror) dabbled in a bit of it myself. You kind of have to know these things when you have my reputation. You have to know the spells and tricks people are likely to fling your way and you have to think twenty-seven steps ahead.

But I still don't completely understand what Tirek used on me.

You see, he betrayed me. He used me, and I'm loathe to admit he hurt me very badly and I'm even more loathe to admit that I'm sometimes tempted to go to Tartarus and visit him and...ask him for something. There are times when I want him back, because before he sucked all my powers out of me like an esoteric Dyson things felt good. You don't understand. I doubt anyone who ever reads this ever will. I had someone who doted on me, who gave me everything I wanted and needed, and then like a magician doing his ridiculously tacky tablecloth trick, pulled everything out from under me. So now I have to go cold turkey, because the truth is there is no such thing as someone who would love me unconditionally the way I thought Tirek loved me. Even the sex was part of his facade. He knew just what I liked and whatever I liked was given to me.

And yet at the same time I hate him; I viciously hate him, because he made a fool of me, because he lied to me and because he caused me to hurt so much that I just wish it would stop. And that's why I sometimes entertain the thought of going down to Tartarus and trying to rekindle what we had. But how is that even possible when there wasn't really anything there to begin with? I was tricked. I'm usually very good at picking up on when someone is trying to weasel with me, but he managed it. He clearly knows more about manipulation than I do. I think the only thing stopping me from going down there and trying something is any scenario I have currently dreamnt up in my mind where I smooth-talk him into making things up to me will most likely result in me begging, and that terrifies me.

Then of course there is Fluttershy. I don't think anything has baffled me more than the yellow pegasus that seems to dote on me. Especially after what I did to her. And now she wants to know why yours truly flung themselves off a cliff.

Maybe part of the reason is I just don't feel I can talk to anyone about how I feel. How am I supposed to look into her big baby blue eyes and tell her: "Oh yeah, hon, by the way. You know that whole thing with Tirek? We were partaking in the eight-legged frolick. Yeah, nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Your friend just happened to screw you all over for some horizontal polka."

Normally I don't feel ashamed about sex...except it wasn't just sex. It was nice to be the one who didn't have to worry about things for once. We could come to the end of the day (which was whenever I decided it was) and I could be in his arms and run my paw over them and feel safe. I didn't have to pretend to be someone else. I didn't have to curtail any of my powers because it was "rude" or "scary."

But Fluttershy is the one who hasn't given up on me, despite me convincing myself that siding with Tirek was the best strategy precisely because I felt she didn't care enough about me.

Irony has a cruel way of biting you hard in the flank.

Ow! No, wait...that's her accursed rabbit. Lost in thought, I had rolled over on the couch onto an enraged lagomorph who had sunk his mighty little incisors into my side.

"Why are you even sleeping on the couch, Little Bunny Cruel Cruel?" I snapped. "This is my space. You have the entire house to lounge about in."

Angel glared at me. I glared back, lowering my horn and antler threateningly.

"Is everything okay?" I glanced up to see Fluttershy in a bathrobe and slippers. She was holding an oil lamp.

"I heard you cry out," she said.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear," I replied. "Just a minor mishap with the rodent here."

"Angel!" she scolded. "Are you bothering Discord again? I told you he's not well and needs his rest. You can have the couch back when he's feeling better."

Or he jumps off the cliff again. I thought.

The rabbit scowled, leapt off the sofa and sped off to find somewhere else to snooze. The menace.

Fluttershy put down her oil lamp, removed her slippers and sat on the part of the sofa Angel had previously occupied. I much preferred her there in his place.

She leaned forward and checked my bandages. "Is everything okay?" she almost whispered, even though there was no one around to hear us.

"Oh, yes everything's fine," I said. Unfortunately halfway through that sentence I realized my tone of voice wasn't quite right. Fluttershy is incredibly empathic. She picks up on everything. She knew I was hurting before the Tirek incident, and to her credit she tried to mitigate it as best she could but what's done is done. And she noticed that right at that very moment, I wasn't fine.

Her hoof ran gentle circles over my paw. "Discord, like I said, I'm not going to make you talk about anything you don't want to talk about, but please know that I'm here for you and the last time you thought you couldn't talk to anyone you were wrong. I promise I'm here to listen, not judge."

I swallowed hard.

How would she react if she knew?

You can always throw yourself off the cliff again if things don't work out.

"Shut up!" I hissed.

"What?"

"No! Not you, Fluttershy. I mean...I..." I sighed with frustration. "Okay, yes. Something is bothering me, but I'm afraid if I tell you what's bothering me you...you might not like it. You might view me differently. I'm not quite sure I understand the situation myself."

"Maybe a different perspective will help."

There was silence for a bit, then I said: "I think Tirek did something to me."

"What do you mean? Are your powers working okay?"

"Yes, they're fine. That isn't quite what I meant. Fluttershy, I..."

I looked at her beautiful face staring back at me in the dim light. Why was this so hard? Throughout my life I'd made it a point to not give a monkeys what other people thought about me. That's how they get you. That's how Tirek got me. Now here was this tender, benevolent being giving me a second chance to be her friend and help me.

"Have you ever..." I started again. "Have you ever wanted to be with someone when you know they're bad for you?"

Yes, oh observant reader. I am aware of the irony of asking her that question. Give yourself a cookie.

"I have family members that have said upsetting things to me and I still love them even though they make me feel bad sometimes. Is that what you mean?"

"Something like that. Except I'm not talking about family and I'm not talking about intergenerational squabblings and making up again over the dinner table."

I realized one of my claws was digging into the couch and I pulled it out. The thread made a popping sound as the sharp talon released itself from the upholstery. Even when I'm still I'm destructive.

"You thought Tirek was your friend and you still want to be his friend?"

I told you she was empathic. She figured it out. Of course she hadn't figured the entire situation out, and if this problem was to be solved she did need to know the whole picture.

"Yes. But, I..."--my talon was wandering around the couch again--"We weren't just friends."

I gave her a pointed look, hoping I wouldn't have to say the words out right and she would figure it out herself.

"Oh..."

So it was out. And now she would think I was disgusting, but if I didn't tell her then I was worried I would end up doing something like going down to Tartarus.

"Why do I want him back, Fluttershy? I hate him. I hate him for what he did to me and what he did to you. And yeah, I helped him with the latter part but I only wanted him to steal pony's magic, not hurt anyone. I wouldn't have let him hurt you. Except, there wasn't much I could do when he stole my magic too. I just, I don't understand. He said I was amazing, and he gave me everything I wanted and I didn't have to change any part of myself to be liked. But he didn't like me. He was just using me, and it hurts and it feels like I want a time machine to go back to when everything felt good. In fact, I did consider bending time for a while just so I could have that feeling again, but deep down I know it would turn into the same clusterbuck." I was babbling. My talon and paw were now covering my face.

"He love bombed you," said Fluttershy.

I looked up at her. "Love bombed?"

"Yes. I read about it when I was at school and we were studying pony psychology. It's when an abusive partner pretends to be loving and showers their victim with physical and emotional gifts. It's meant to feel perfect and is usually a cover for the abuser getting what he or she wants."

I was startled. How did someone so seemingly innocent know all this?

"I also read that when the 'honeymoon period' in this type of situation ends it can feel like a massive withdrawal, because...um, all of the good feelings the abuser directed towards their partner were never real. It's like a shock to the system. And some ponies will do anything to get rid of that shock and emptiness, including going back to the abuser and asking to be loved again because it means all the good feelings will flood back if they do."

We were both silent for a bit, then Fluttershy continued: "I'm really sorry, Discord. I knew Tirek had hurt you, but I had no idea he had hurt you that badly."

I cleared my throat. If you think all of this wasn't a little embarrasing to me then you haven't been paying attention. However, any feelings of shame were overidden by my surprise at Fluttershy's calm assessment of the situation. I had expected her to at least recoil in disgust at the thought that I had been having snu snu with Equestria's mortal enemy. Nevertheless, I felt I had to do it for her.

"You must think I'm an even more awful person now."

"I don't..."

I laughed a little at that.

"I'm no better than he is because I did a similar thing to you and the others," I said. "I am a bad person because I do bad things, and quite frankly I'm almost baffled by the fact that you're so forgiving towards me."

"Why? Are you planning on doing it again?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then why do you think you're a bad pony?"

"I've done bad things! I wouldn't forgive me if I was you."

"Doing bad things doesn't necessarily make you a bad pony."

"In what universe?"

"Well, it's like Tirek. If he spent an hour a year doing something good, like feeding a bird with a hurt wing but spent the rest of the time hurting ponies and stealing their magic, that one good thing he did doesn't erase all the bad things he did."

Trust Fluttershy to use that example.

"You forget all the bad stuff I did before being reformed," I pointed out.

"I haven't forgotten it. But you are genuinely sorry and you are making an effort to change. Tirek doesn't want to change."

"You can't possibly be this forgiving," I said. "It's not safe for you to be this forgiving to everyone!"

"Why do you say that?"

Because I don't want anything to happen to you.

"Because I've seen the world. I know what people are like! Yes, there are good ponies like you but there are some phenomenally bad ones too.

Would you forgive someone like Chrysalis, or King Sombra?"

"But you aren't Chrysalis or King Sombra. They don't want friends and they aren't sorry."

"It's still not safe to make that the only criteria for trusting someone!" I insisted.

"Then what's the point?" she asked me.

"I don't follow."

"If I can't spend everyday being kind and loving towards my friends and learning to accept that no one is perfect, then what is the alternative? My friends make mistakes, I make mistakes. If I lived my life never forgiving anyone when things went wrong, or I decided to be a shut-in because there was the possibility that I could run into someone who could hurt me, then what kind of a life would that be? I...I nearly became a shut-in once. Ponies were mean to me when I was a filly. They called me weak and bullied me. Um... I nearly died, but Dashie was there to help me.  I still struggle with meeting new ponies and making friends, but I'm a much happier pony, because I learnt to accept that I deserved friendship."

I stared at her in wonder. Bitterness had not touched her at all.

She crawled up the couch, lay down next to me and hugged me. My arms went around her instantly.

"You're not a bad pony," she whispered, nuzzling at my chest feathers.

"Fluttershy," I said, resting my head on top of hers, "Don't you ever let other ponies tell you that you are weak."

Her breathing was slow and steady. She had fallen asleep. I leaned forward gently and blew out the oil lamp.

I wondered how she could feel so soft while being hard as nails.