Aesthetics of Mysticism

“They didn’t have to cover him up. Trixie could have broken his illusion.”, she said.

Spade Chunks shrugged. “If he wants to to take it off, he can.”

“I know, but seems like you’re not using Trixie’s talent as much as you could. ”

“Don’t worry about it, the job’s done for now, and that’s all that matters.” They were both riding in the cart lugging Westley, though to him their conversation was a low mumble.

As time passed Westley’s headache lessened and he poked his head out of his cover. The terrain had changed from dense foliage to rolling meadow, a place he’d never been before, but his memory of his confiscated map told him they were headed west. He glanced at the sun’s position, but like usual it did nothing to confirm his direction; when it was not rising or setting, it held motionless in the zenith of its path.

The seasons were changing, which he could feel when the occasional small draft reached him. He pulled his tarp closer to his body and let his mind wander, though his thoughts stayed on his uncertain fate.

‘If this were home I could expect a plea bargain to a low security prison to expedite the sentencing. I might have even been able to get some career training out of it depending on the facilities and the warden… But I really don’t know much about ponies. They seem gentle with their own kind.’ He paused to study the police pony guarding his cage for a moment. She seemed to be avoiding his gaze. ’I’ve stopped running and I’m not in immediate danger. At the very least I can get a roof over my head for a little while, maybe get to know a little bit more about this world.’

The swaying of the cart and the rhythmic sound of hooves was hypnotic, almost like a quiet, somber marching tune. Westley gently hummed a simple melody and soon found himself in a mindless tranced only interrupted by the occasional outburst from the other occupants.

The scenery changed several more times through the course of the day, from meadow, to farm land, to rocky terrain, to another forest, a remote location from the rest of society, before the journey was over. The sound of more and more hooves hitting the soft, trampled soil alerted Westley it was time to move. He made sure to tie the tarp around his body, good fabric was hard to find at the fringes of society, before he was ushered out of the cage. When he stepped out the first thing he saw was a giant sign on the side of a large facility:

WELCOME TO HARMONY LODGE

A BETTER VIEW FOR THE IRREDUCIBLE YOU!

The slogan… was not what Westley expected from a jail. Or perhaps it was a corrections facility? It seemed to hint more towards rehabilitation than simple holding. He turned to the one who’d ushered him out, a pale-green earth pony.

“Might as well let you keep that.” She gestured to his crude covering. “Better than the alternative.”, she said.

“Thanks?”

“Not a problem.”

“This place seems cheerful enough, doesn’t it?”

“It’s a riot.”, she said.

“Well, let’s hope not.”

“Patients go to check-in first. Follow the guards in the rainbow uniforms. They’ll get you sorted.”

Westley looked until he spotted them and confirmed their uniforms. “Seems… garish.” He began walking towards them, closely shadowed by Pale-green and some other police ponies. He didn’t know what to think about being called a “patient”.

“It was Princess Celestia’s idea. She thought it’d build on the theme. It’s just tacky.”

“Oh. Well, not everyone can be a fashion designer, I guess.” He wasn’t sure how to respond. This was the first real conversation he’d had in months, and pale-green’s replies weren’t inviting. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Probably not. I’m not due for training for 10 months.”

And then the gates closed. Westley turned and started following his new captors into the facility with a handful of his previous escorts, including a blue unicorn he hadn’t seen before. The campus was large, containing numerous buildings, several guard towers, and an area filled with ponies doing various activities, like gardening, sculpting, basket weaving, dancing, putting, and one even seemed to be snorkeling in a large aquarium. If he ignored the guards it looked like a small country club.

“Name?”

The question pulled him from his musings. “Ah. My name is Westley. Westley Vrana.”

The off-white clerk gave him a nervous look, barely meeting his eyes. “Strange name...” He scribbled for a moment. “Here’s your nametag.”

Westley stared at it for a moment before putting it on. It’d been a long time since he’d realized he’d inexplicably been able to understand a foreign alphabet, but seeing his name garbled into a naive approximation of its meaning, “Crow of the West Field”, was a reminder of how alien things were. “Weird.”

“Indeed. It’s not often we receive non-ponies here. Take a seat in the lobby until we can assign a room for you. Do you have any problem bunking with others?”

Westley hesitated. Living with someone else would give him an opportunity to socialize, but being cooped up with a mental patient sounded like trouble. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, at least not in the beginning, but I’ll do it if I have to.”

“That’s probably for the best. Not everyone will appreciate your... appearance, and you’ll progress faster if we can keep you from temptation in the beginning.” He flipped through several pages in his book before continuing. ”I’ll see what I can do, but you’ll probably be in one of the farther barracks with the violent offenders if no one’s willing to give up a room.”

“It’s that packed here?”

“Not usually, but there’s been trouble lately. Princess Celestia’s taken some of it pretty hard, you know.”

“I’ve heard that name several times now. Besides the obvious, who is she?”

The off-what clerk gave him another funny look. “You must be a rock farmer.”

“If that’s your way of saying I’ve been living under a rock, you’d be right.”

“Indeed. Princess Celestia is the Diarch of Equestria and the Sun Raiser.”

“She raises the sun, or is that figurative?”

“She raises the sun.”

The explained somethings. “Ah. So… You been here long?”

The pony stood up and presented his flank. He pointed to his branding, which was speckled with dark marks, before sitting down again. “I’ve been a graduate of Irreducible U. for ten years now. When there was an opening for a filing position I decided to stay. Oh, that’s what we call this place sometimes. Much more catchy than “Harmony Lodge”, don’t you think?”

“It’s a clever play on the slogan, yeah.”, Westley said.

“It is? Well, you’ll see when classes begin.”

“And here I thought I’d never go to school again. 20 years is too much for me.”

“If you’ve had that much education, do you mind me asking-- No, this is a place for new beginnings. It’s generally considered poor form to ask about such things; most ponies like to forget the darker parts of their lives.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Westley sat down in a small classroom, no more than 15 people were with him, most being ponies, though there was a single minotaur. It was arranged by sets of three people at four long tables, and the final table was crowded with four. Next to him sat a grey pony with salmon hair, who quickly scooted his seat away after he noticed Westley.

“I can’t be that repulsive, can I?”

“Eh… You’re just… I’m scared of spiders.”

It was the last reply Westley had been expecting. He looked down at himself and patted his “clothing” for a minute, trying to find anything vaguely arachnid about himself. “What.”

“D-don’t mind me, It’s my problem, not yours. They wouldn’t have let you in the common rooms if… if you weren’t safe. I know I’m being...”

“Chicken shit?”

“What? No, I was going to s-say prejudiced.”

“I’m confused. I’m not a spider.”

“Y-you have eight legs, eight eyes, and fangs as long as my hoc--”

An cheerful, cerulean pegasus mare interrupted him. “No he doesn’t! He looks like a big potato!” The commotion caused everyone else to look their way. Some were more composed than others, but all seemed disturbed by his appearance.

“What? A spider? A potato? Are you people blind?”, Westley said.

The largest of the group, the Minotaur, stood up, pointed a gigantic finger at Westley, and bellowed. “THEY PUT A CHANGELING IN THE LODGE?”

“Honest Bronze, be quiet! If he were a changeling we’d all see the same thing.”, yet another pony, a strangely reflective unicorn, said. “Poppy Loam saw a spider, Spruce Goose saw a potato, and I see a living suit of armor. What do you see?”

“I SEE A CHANGELING!”

“Oh. Well he’s obviously not. If you paid more attention in class you’d know they can’t function around us.”

“YOU THINK CHRYSALIS WOULDN’T FIND A WAY AROUND STIGMA AFTER A THOUSAND YEARS?”

“I told you to be quiet! You’re making a scene! And that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

‘I’m in a mental hospital.’, Westley thought as he crept to the door. ‘They’re all crazy.’ Before he could make his exit he backed into a pony. “Oh! Sorry.”

“It’s… fine. But what’s going on here?”, the pony said. He was a tan pegasus stallion with a brown mane, who wore a padded vest and a necklace with a round pendant.

“They looked at me, and then… this.” Westley gestured to the growing chaos.

“Why did you let this happen?”

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Do not lie to me. You need to stop this.”

“That’s a mob!”

“Fine, I’ll handle this, but we’re going to talk about what you’ve done.” The pony walked to the head of the room and lifted his pendant. At first nothing seemed to happen, but after a minute Westley went to his knees as his headache worsened and throbbed. At the fringe of Westley’s attention he noticed the crowd had settled and looked like it was in a hypnotic trance. The pony was in front of Westley again. “Get up. Guard Giant Hoof here will escort you to your quarters.”

Westley could barely hear, however, and he stayed on the ground. “W-what?”

“Get up. Go to your room.” He was holding his pendant aloft again, and Westley’s headache worsened again. “My name is Luminous Path, I am your keeper. You will obey me. Go to your room.” He waited, but Westley did nothing but cradle his head. “Hoof, take him away, and tell Billiard Ball to watch everyone. I need to see the warden about this.”

“Sir, he looks like he’s in pain. Should I take him to the medical wing?”

“He’s just resisting more than most do, so I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“If you say so.”, Giant Hoof said. He fumbled before hoisting Westley onto his back. To Giant Hood Westley looked like a rodent of unusual size, so his first attempt to grab the kneeling figure failed.

The hallways Luminous Path walked were spartan until he reached the outside doors, in which a relief of Equestria’s emblem had been carved. He exited the building into the populated courtyard of the campus, where few ponies were working on various projects. The staff quarters were on the other side of the main walkway, which Luminous crossed with haste.

When he reached the warden’s office he knocked, then was called into the room.

“Luminous? Aren’t you lecturing right now?”

“There was an incident with our newest resident.”

The warden, a pure-white mare named True Sleeve, rummaged through her drawer before pulling out a file. “You’re talking about Crow? The illusionist?”

“Yes, I don’t believe he’s fit for group therapy. He demonstrated no understanding of how his illusions affect others. He caused a panic. Until we can get him under control we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

“His treatment will take much longer if we have to wait to socialize him. Are you certain?”

“I had to have him carried back to his room.”

True Sleeve glanced at her file again and sighed. “Very well. If he’s that bad you’ll probably need Trixie’s help. I’ll rearrange the schedules.”

“Thank you, I’ll be returning to my class.”