Choice in the Everfree

by dieUbermensch

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other
Length: 1466

Twilight ponders the value of a life when she is given the power of life & death in the Everfree.

Chaos. Choice. Freedom. The Everfree forest is the embodiment of these, antitheses of order. So what happens when one from that outside world of safety and order enters the misty realm of the Everfree to make a heavy choice, one that is not accustomed to the likes of the dwellers of order.

Published 2012-07-08 21:04:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-08 21:04:02 UTC

The Choice

Water. The ever nourishing liquid of life. So important to the organics who roam the surface of the world. Such great sway it holds on existence. Powerful substance that it is, it finds itself in the meekest of places, and the most fierce. Today, it dwells within a quaint stream, hidden in the depths of the Everfree. A solitary light falls upon the stream, a stark contrast to the otherwise misty and dark wood.

That most menacing of vistas, the Everfree forest stands like a gaping wound on the unblemished face. Within this wide land of order and direction, there stands a monument to chaos. In a world where even the weather must be precisely controlled, there is a place wherein nature takes precedence. Nature, whose unbridled anarchy connects itself by some kind of overarching scheme. Ordered chaos. A trait not easily found in Equestria.

But this gives rise to a very illusive force: freedom. There is no place for freedom in an ordered world. You will find only determinism there. No, in the Everfree, freedom exists in its most pure form: the freedom to bestow life and death. Predator and prey. The wolf and the sheep. Heterotrophism. But enough of this. We find ourselves observing a quickly running brook, lone spectators to the unfolding drama inside.

A parched deer approaches our stream. The prey. With a gentle bend of the knees an a lowering of the neck, she begins to quench her need for the life-giving liquid. She lolls out her tongue in desperation. Its thirst is great. The clear, clean water makes its way down the deer's throat, and her short journey to the stream is vindicated. Once finished, she spots green, succulent grass out of her peripheries. She meanders over for a quick collation, incognizant of here impending doom (but is anything truly impending in this pure freedom?).

A rather dense area of forest this is. Many tall trees surround the brook, almost in a circle pattern. The perfect place for an opportunistic animal to ensnare unwitting prey. There, behind the circle, lies a wolf. The predator. The exiled wolf, ripped away from his pack by unforeseen consequences, searching for a much-needed meal. Its emaciated body reveals the ribcage of this once-proud mammal, evidence of his lacklustre hunting abilities. Hidden behind a mighty oak, his hungered form draws in labored breaths. He requires sustenance. But accursed fate has granted him with a body that cannot reap the benefits of his lush herbal surroundings. He must kill, and exert his freedom upon his fellow fauna.

A faint scent hung over him: that of prey. Of course, it may seem that way to an outside observer; to him, it was far more. He smells the far sweeter aroma of hope. Hope that he may live another day in this, the anarchic forest, and enjoy the great boons of existence (death isn't exactly the greatest sensation, wouldn't you say?). He slowly brought his muzzle out from behind the tree to see his prospective nourishment. He eyes the figure of a young, healthy, delicious hind.

Did he sneak up? Lie in wait for the perfect chance to strike? Of course not: those are the marks of an effective hunter, which he certainly was not. He wasted no time in bounding out after the deer, quickly tackling the hapless meal. Now the deer lay on its side, stunned, with a wolf lumbering over it. Here, the wolf makes a decision, whether it be conscious or not, that will affect his future. Instead of attacking the neck, assuredly killing the quadruped, he went straight for the gut, intent on devouring his long-sought meal.

One bite in, and blood was spilt. Here, in the free forest, Nature's chaos and order met to create a balance of life and death. Another bite, and the abdomen of the hind became slightly eviscerated. The deer shrieked in pain, not resigned to its fate as simple energy for those stronger than her. Nonetheless, her destiny seemed sealed, and she hung upon a thin thread as blood hemorrhaged from her wound.

But an unseen variable entered this grand experiment when the wolf found his side to be searing in excruciating pain, and that he was thrown feet away from his only hope of future-existence. His weakened form, and former status as the omega of a pack left him immobilized on the ground as a lavender form quickly trotted towards the downed ruminant.

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Why must it be in the Everfree?

The thought crossed her mind multiple times as Twilight traversed the great wood. When she tripped over many a branch, when she saw glowing eyes in the distance, when mosquitos gathered around her. This was not the best place for a peace-loving, un-athletic, and equine creature. She didn't enjoy harming other animals, so why would the beasts of the Everfree do so?

Why must it be in the Everfree?

Of course, such thoughts didn't stop her from reaching her goal. She simply needed to know if these herbs existed. Apparently, this so called 'nirnroot' glowed and emitted a high-frequency pitch. It had been regarded as legendary, and no one knew if it was real or not. Rumor has it, the nirnroot existed in the depths of the Everfree. She had to put down her riveting philosophical studies on free will for this.

Philosophy is a science after all. The original science.

Twilight's thoughts neatly aligned their timing with the exposition of this story, which was quite useful.

Regardless, Twilight heard the soft trickling of a stream nearby.

I've been out here all day. A little refreshment could do me well.

Begrudging her failure in finding the nirnroot, she followed the sound of the water. A shriek bellowed out from the same direction as the water. She increased her speed to that of a gallop, and arrived quickly upon the unfolding scene. She thoughtlessly fired a bolt from her horn at the offending wolf, in an attempt to spare the life of a creature of the forest. But she had cast too quickly on too powerful a spell. Her magical reserves had ran low. Already, she felt a little fatigued.

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Before her lay two forms.

The first, a partially eviscerated deer, laying upon the lush grass that was once her meal. The prey. The creature drew in labored breaths as it lay in a pool of blood that was quickly spreading. She was near death. Very near death.

The second, the emaciated form of a wolf. With every breath, he coughed blood upon the fertile land. His magical wound had tore a hole in his side, tearing away the flesh that once clung to his ribs. His suffering was punctuated by the soft trickle of the stream behind him.

If only she hadn't pondered. If only she hadn't thought about it.

But she did.

She thought. have just enough magic to save her. That deer will be up and able in no time! I just have to...wait. That wolf. It looks like it hadn't eaten in days. So weak, so feeble. But I should save the deer. Right? Is her life worth more than his? Surely, he was only acting to survive. But is that enough to justify killing?

And while the lavender creature thought, the disturbed forces of natural order and chaos slowly began to coalesce again. Freedom and choice had found its avatar through the wolf, but now he was cast aside. It now flowed through Twilight. That one who adored the order and safety of the outside world was now thrust into a position of incertitude and chance. Freedom. But fate still had its way. Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

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It was a rare happening, when the forest took matters into its own hands. But it always occurred vicariously. Such is the case in this tale. While Twilight whiled away her time balancing the lives of these two on her own scales of morality and justice, both expired. Her scales still held balance in their death, but she was not content. Such was the price of her freedom. She had been given the power to bestow life and death: she had joined their world, if only briefly.

She made her choice. Inaction.

So take heed my friends, when such an occurrence happens before you, mind you that time is short, and life is fleeting. Do not stand about in stagnation, but make a choice, for if you do not, all of your options die.

And so, the chaos of the forest continued on. The stream continued to run, and water continued to flow. That strange duality of order and chaos continued to exist, and the heavy hand of choice reined supreme. Everfree. Ever free indeed.