New Faces

by Amaranthine Thought

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Main 6, Dark, Alternate Universe, Other, Original Character
Length: 36990

Centaur are like ponies. Like, not the same, and when something is trying to spark a war amidst trouble, everypony is in danger.

Chosen is a young centaur, a capable youth, the only son of the chieftain of the Longrunner tribe. His father, Martuk, is strong and brave, and his teacher, Gori, is old and wise. Chosen is growing to be a fine warrior, and a better shaman, someone who uses the elements.

When their home is destroyed by invaders that no one can name, they find an escape. An old ritual, and a portal to elsewhere.

Equestria is a peaceful land, far removed from their own. Centaurs used to the harsher elements of life are very different from the peaceful ponies, but perhaps things might have gone well. A few misunderstandings, a tense first encounter, but everything might have gone well.

But strange things happen. Ponies and centaur seemingly trying to cause a conflict. Where understanding has not been established, distrust and hate are easy to foster. Will peace be found, or will the two groups never be reconciled, the fields between them stained with the blood of the fallen?

Published 2017-05-12 22:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-08-27 15:12:31 UTC

Kindness and confrontations

We had a feast in celebration of my hunt. One of the cows was cooked, and I got to have the first cut, despite being a child. I hunted it, so I had the right, said father. It was a thing of great honor for me, and I am very happy.

I am stuffed and moving slowly, heading toward the small horses. The sun is setting, just as fast as it had before, but I don’t care for it now. I am even somewhat used to it.

The nights here are bright, much brighter than I’m used to. It is easy to make my way across the camp, and we do not have to use many torches at all. It is nearly… special in some way. As if every night was a strange day somehow. Before I go to sleep, I want to visit the small horses again.

A few of the tribesmen have built an enclosure, and they live in there. They aren’t eating the grass in it, which is worrying me. What if they starve themselves? Maybe they don’t eat grass, even if they do look like horses.

They are upset again, I can see it. The male, the blue one, turns and glares at me, though I can see his tension and fear. The other one moves in front of the small one as I enter the pen.

Time to make friends. I have some vegetables with me, and I toss them to them. They move away from them, but I know that they haven’t been eating. They should be starving, why are thy avoiding food? Maybe they are too afraid.

“Hey.” I say, calmly, doing my best to be soothing like teacher taught me. “Everything is fine. Just some lettuce and those green things I don’t like, nothing to be afraid of.”

They stare at me, their fear lessoning a bit. I move a bit closer, and they do not respond badly.

I reach out, moving as slow as I can, and the male watches me closely. As I move closer he grows more worried, and when I touch him, he jolts and moves away. He was very soft, far softer than a normal horse. I wonder what the others feel like.

I take out my snack as I think and they stop and stare at it. I hesitate, wondering what I should do. It is my snack, and not theirs, but they are very hungry…

I sigh and offer my carrot, and the female looks to the male and softly huffs before looking back. Then she stretches out and bites it. I let it go, and she pulls it back, biting it and letting the foal eat the rest. They are much calmer now, and I move a little closer again.

I touch the male again, and he jolts but doesn’t move away. I slowly rub, and feel the muscles under soft fur, strong and large. He slowly relaxes at my touch, and the female watches. I carefully touch her head, and she leans into my hand slightly, her eyes closing in happiness as I rub. She is softer than the male is and I enjoy feeling her hair.

It is not long before they are at ease with me. They even let me touch the foal, the little one eager and happy. She reminds me a little of Rush when he was smaller, and wiggles when I pick her up. She makes me smile.

Then I hear flapping, and all three brighten considerable and make noise. I swiftly set the little one down and turn to where they are looking. Another small colorful horse, this one green, has arrived in the pen, and for a moment I wonder how it got inside and then I see. Two feathered wings are on its back. It must have flown into the pen! It can fly! I smile widely. A bird horse! It is like something Rush once dreamed up, and I smile at the memory and seeing the amusing sight of it.

It looks to the horses tied up, and then looks back to me. I offer it a carrot, ready to make a new friend.

And then it flaps and rams me hard, sending me flailing to the ground. That had hurt!

All four horses are neighing, and the bird horse comes at me again. I grab it, and feel its strength as it pulls me upright and nearly lifts me from the ground.

It drags me toward the others, neighing, and they are upset, but are not reacting like they should be. They should be panicking, rearing or trying to run away. They almost look angry, scared, or upset, or all three.

The bird horse is suddenly shoved away, and father rips me away from it. It flies away, and several warriors try and fail to hit it with thrown spears.

“Father.” I say, “Father, the bird horse.”

“Calm. It is a dangerous thing Chosen. Are you harmed?”

“It pushed me over.” I tell him. He sighs.

“This place is more dangerous than I have thought.” He turns to look at the warriors. “Gather the bows! I want all of you to keep watch on the skies for more flying horses!”

A short time passes, and I get my own bow, as do most of the others. A few warriors look to the sky, and the tribe moves a little closer together. To be safer in case of flying attacks, as if we are watching for the death birds.

And then one of the warriors cries, and points. High above are two more bird horses. They are very high, and going over the camp.

Father glares. “Bring them down!”

The warriors take aim, and fire. The bird horses are surprised, but the arrows miss, and they move faster. One of them even begins to swoop and twirl in the air.

More and more arrows are shot at them until one is hit, and plummets to crash nearby. The other swoops and curls with grace and is missed every time, until it is almost gone.

“Chosen!” father yells, drawing his own bow. I nod, and aim with him, doing my best. I am good at archery, but I am not sure that I can hit something so small and fast and far. I pull my own arrow out, and nick myself on it before I get it into the bow.

We fire together and our arrows fly fast and high. Father’s passes through one wing, and mine strikes it in the barrel. It wobbles, and begins falling slowly. It will land nowhere near the camp, but I am sure that I have killed it. I feel proud that I hit it, but there is something… wrong. I am not sure what it is.

Father is yelling at the others, angry that they can’t aim better. I go, and find my teacher next to the fallen one, blood seeping from the wound and making yellow fur red. It is hurt, but not dead, and has sacks tied to it.

“Teacher? What is it?” I ask.

“…A bird horse.” I was right then! It is a bird horse! I am happy.

“What do we do with it?”

“I suppose that we should make it unable to fly, and use it like a normal horse. I will need to see if your father agrees.” He picks up the packs, looks inside, and hums. Then he looks back to where the other is still somewhat visible on the horizon as it drops and hums again.

“Teacher? Is something the matter?”

“…No. I am just wondering. You have been getting along with the other horses Chosen?”

“Yes. They are only scared, and like being petted. The little one is fun to hold too.”

Teacher hums again. “Go to your father Chosen. I might have something to ponder.”

I nod and obey. Father finds me a place to sleep, and keeps watch over me like he had when I was very young.

“Father?” I ask, wondering. “Why are you next to me?”

"To keep you safe."

"I am not a baby father." I say, pouting.

He almost seems sad. I have never seen that look on his face, with his eyes seeing elsewhere and his mouth faintly frowning. And then he sighs.

"I know. You are... so close to becoming a man Chosen. And when the flying one attacked you... I..." he sighs again.

"I need to know that you are safe. I know that... that your mother would want me to. I... can hear her saying that even now... You are the only thing that I have left of her Chosen."

"Father..." For a moment I think I see a tear in his eyes, but then it is gone again as he shakes himself.

"Go to sleep, and let your father watch over you. Nothing will harm you so long as I breath Chosen. By my honor, and on my ancestors, I swear it."

I do so. I never knew my mother, but that... that was the first time father had ever spoken of her. And it... it is hard to see father so effected like that. I never saw him like that, never imagined father, the biggest, strongest, bravest warrior could feel sadness.

It had always been just him and me, for as long as I can remember. Father was the one who cared for me in my earliest years, and for a long time never really imagined my having a mother. But now... I wonder what she must have been like. What she might think of me, or father, or what was happening. What she would say to see me bringing the cow back to the camp, what she might say about the bird horse. Everything she might have done in my life and father's.

They are heavy thoughts, and I am still wondering as I fall asleep.

The next day I wake. My dreams had been nice, though I do not really remember them. An impression of someone holding me, back when I was just a baby. It was warm and soft, and I enjoyed it, though I do not remember what was said, or who was holding me. I shake the dream off me, and stretch before deciding to visit teacher. His tent has been finished, and I want to see.

I go to teacher’s tent, a larger tent to accommodate everything he needs. The inside is filled with his things he uses to heal; herbs and gooey stuff and bandages. In one area is his bed and the sick bed, where injured and sick lie to be treated. In another is the stuff he has from his travels, many different things from all over the world.

The bird horse is on his sick bed and father is with teacher as teacher uses a knife to remove the feathers from its wings. It has a few bloody bandages on one side as well.

Father looks to me. “Chosen, come and help Gori.” I nod and teacher moves to let me stand next to the bird horse. It is sleeping peacefully as teacher cuts at its wings.

“It is a simple task Chosen.” my teacher says. “Just cut the large feathers at the base so that she cannot fly, but do not remove the down.” He shows me what he means, and tells me how far I should go. “Make sure that you do not cut her, or she may wake.” he warns me.

He hands me a knife, and I grab the other wing and begin clipping. I snap through the first few before turning to look at teacher. He nods, so I continue, doing far worse than teacher. His hand is steady and experienced, leaving a smooth result. Mine is lumpy, with half feathers and snapped quills. It looks ugly and I frown.

“Not bad.” he says as he puts his wing down. His is featherless and appears fuzzy. “Not bad at all. You didn’t hurt the horse and you left the down. Good work Chosen.” I smile again.

“I do not like them.” Father says. “The winged ones seem aggressive.”

“Do not leap to conclusions Martuk. Perhaps the winged one was defending the others? Take a horse from a herd, and that herd might attack to defend the one. This could be the same.” Father grunts.

“Now Chosen. Take her rope, and lead her to the others. She might flap a lot, trying to fly, but she will be unable to. Expect it, and do not panic.”

I nod, and he puts the horse on the ground, and then gives a sharp tap to its muzzle. It wakes, stands, and its wings do stretch and flap.

And then flap, and flap, and flap really fast, making lots of noise, and she neighs and rears until I control her with the rope. It is scary, the sound of its wings and the strength that they seem to have, but I will not show fear before teacher and father.

“Good, now put her with the others.” Teacher says.

I go with her, having to drag often as she continues making noise and flapping and not walking. I reach the pen, and the others start making noise, and seem upset and worried as I push her inside and shut the gate.

They are making a lot of noise. Much more so than normal horses. Another difference? I put their food, greenery, freshly gathered, in a basket and leave them, wondering what I should call them now. Horse seemed wrong, they were too different than what I knew of. Maybe… not horses?

perspective, pony

Night was falling, and Good and his family were growing very hungry. They had not eaten anything since their capture, and Gentle was whining about the lack of food. They had been in the camp for one and a half days, and even though they were no longer roped they were inside a pen, like animals.

Good sighed. The strange creatures had taken away one of the cows, which helped, but they took it apart as well, which was horrible. Fine had had to nearly sit atop Gentle to prevent her from seeing or hearing the sight. The scent of cooked flesh had lingered until the breeze had mercifully taken it away.

And then the small one returned, the same one that had tried to offer the carrot before. Good perked up at the thought of food, but tried to dispel it. He had to be on guard.

And then the little creature had tossed them lettuce and a few sprouts, and it was all they could do not to eat them. Even if they had landed in the dirt.

It frowned, and then smiled again, and made a few sounds. Harsh, guttural sounds that were somehow softer and gentler than what they had previously heard from the creatures. It was almost like it was speaking to them, and then it carefully stepped closer. It slowly reached out, and Good stared, caught between curiosity and concern.

When it touched him, he jumped away from it. It took out another carrot, and their eyes were drawn to it as the creature lifted it as if it was going to eat it. It saw them, hesitated and then sighed before offering the carrot with a bright smile. Fine turned to her husband with a pleading expression.

“Good… Gentle and I…”

“I know dear. Take it. It can’t be worse than starving.”

She nodded, and grabbed the offered carrot and gave most of it to Gentle who was happy to have food. The little creature offered more, several carrots, and they began feeling more at ease, and some of Good’s fears left him.

When the little guy touched him again, he jolted, but waited. He began rubbing at his shoulder, and it was relaxing, and pleasurable. He was very sure now that the little guy didn’t mean any harm, and that they weren’t about to be killed, at least not by him.

Fine watched, and then the little one reached out and rubbed at her head, and she hummed in pleasure. The feeling of his hands was quite enjoyable for them, and after a time they were at ease with him.

Even when he touched Gentle they didn’t mind too badly. She seemed happy with him, and though he obviously didn’t understand her requests to play, she loved it when he picked her up, both beaming.

“I’m bigger than daddy!” she said, wiggling in the little one’s grasp.

They smiled and laughed with her as she continued to giggle. She looked up and around, and then stared behind her. “Look!” she cried, trying to point in that dircetion.

Good and Fine looked, and they both saw a green pegasus flying overhead and seeming heading their way. Their hopes of rescue rose swiftly, and they gasped in surprised happiness.

“Over here!” Good yelled, his wife soon joining him. “Here! This way!”

The pegasus seemed to hear them and hurried forward, landing near them. “I got this.” he said, perfectly calm as the little one set Gentle down and turned to see him.

For a moment Good worried that he might do something bad, but he smiled hugely. And then he offered another carrot.

Good chuckled. The little guy was really nice. Very different from the others of his kind. He might not even care when the pegasi let them go.

And then the pegasi tackled him, and they gasped when they saw him flail and fall painfully. He was obviously hurt, and it hadn’t been necessary.

“Get it! Now, while it’s down!” the pegasi yells.

“You don’t have to do that!” Fine yelled back. “He isn’t a threat!”

The pegasi opened his mouth to respond, but the little guy began recovering. The pegasi glared, and tried to charge him, hooves first this time. Fine covered her daughter’s eyes.

But the little guy caught the pegasi, and prevented him from ramming him again. Though the pony could have flown away from the grip, he gripped back, and lifted up and dragged him toward them.

“Help me! Now’s your chance!” the pegasi yelled.

Good was stunned, but Fine was a faster thinker. “If you hurt that poor thing dear, you are going to be in big trouble!” she said.

Then the choice was taken out of their hooves as the largest monster arrived and beat the pegasi away. The pegasi flew far and they watched a few of the other monsters throw spears after him, though they all missed to their relief.

Gentle looked at the large monster holding the little one protectively, and looked at her mother. “Is the big one his daddy mommy?” she asked. Fine looked, and wondered.

Now that the little one had tried, she could sort of see how their horrible sounds might be speech. A language very removed from their own. The largest one was obviously protecting the smaller like a parent and she could see the fear in him, the fear of maybe losing a child.
She wondered where the mother was. Why hadn't she rushed to the defense of the little one?

And then the big one fiercely yelled and the creatures scattered as Fine and Gentle jumped a little from the sound.

“Dear, what is happening?” Fine asked.

“I’m not sure...” Good watched the monsters collect weapons, tiny spears and curved wood with string in it. He wondered what they were, but he knew they weren’t good.

A short time passed, and then they hear another terrifying yell from the creatures. The monsters looked up and they saw two mail ponies high above. Good even recognized one of them as Derpy and as he saw the monsters aim their weapons skyward felt his blood run cold.

Fine watched in confusion and as the first volley went skyward she gasped. They watched as the monsters continued to try and strike the pegasi from the sky. To their horror they hit one and she fell somewhere into the camp. But Derpy, flying in her odd way, avoided them all, and Good hoped that maybe she would tell somepony about this.

And then the big one and the small one aimed. And they saw the tiny spears pierce Derpy from a great distance, and watched as she began wobbling, slowly falling from the sky.

“Monsters…” murmured Good. “Nothing but monsters!”

“But why?” Fine asked. “The little one was so kind earlier, why would he do that!?”

Gentle looked at her parents and sighed, drawing their attention. “OH!” Fine cried, realizing. “Gentle, are you alright!? I’m sorry that you had to see that darling.”

“It's fine mommy” the filly said. “But I know why the nice one did that. It was because the pegasi was mean.”

“Sweetie?” asked Good, confused.

“He’s not a pony, and he got hurt by the mean pegasi. So when he saw other pegasi, he thought they were mean, and wanted to hurt him too. Like the unicorn was mean to me in school and I though all unicorns were mean, remember?”

Good blinked, and then realized that his daughter was wiser than he thought. She made a good point. The beings were not ponies, and couldn’t be expected to know about them either. First impressions were the most important, and the green pegasi had ruined his own kind’s impression.

They must think pegasi another species, and while they, earth ponies all, were safe, pegasi had proved themselves dangerous. The green pegasi had attacked what was obviously a child. And the beings had retaliated in their own way, to protect their children.

He sighed and looked to his wife, who understood as well. “What can we do dear?” Fine asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t.” Good responded. What could they do? What could be done? There didn’t seem to be anything that they could do, except to try and get the little one to understand them somehow.

They slept on the ground again, uncomfortable and unhappy. Ponies weren’t meant to sleep just anywhere. Good and Fine had tried to keep their daughter safe and warm during the nights, but even she had not gotten much sleep. None of them had, not even in the pleasant nights of Equestria.

It was early in the morning when they heard yelling, coming closer, along with maddened fluttering.

“What did you do to me!? Let me go!”

The little guy from before came back into view, dragging a yellow pegasi, the same pegasi from last night, the one that had fallen into the camp. Good gave a sigh of relief, seeing her safe and alive, but Fine gasped.

“Her wings!” Good looked, and winced. The pegasi’s wings were missing most of their feathers, obviously cut into uselessness. But one the other hand, she was alive, still had her wings, and the feathers were cut, not plucked. It was a little odd how one was so badly done while the other was very nicely done, but they didn’t pay too much attention to that.

Both Good and Fine felt a little relieved that their captors were not quite the monsters they had feared. They ate meat, but they didn’t eat pony, or kill one that was helpless. It was a calming revelation for them.

She continued to fight hard, even as the little one opened the gate and tried to shove her inside. She spotted them, and gaped.

“Help! Stop him!” she screamed, even as the little one continued to push and get her to let go of the fence.

Fine left it up to Good, and he thought for a second. “It will be better not to resist.” he said. “He doesn’t mean you any harm, and it is better to be in here, rather than out there.”

The pegasi was shocked, and in her shock the little guy managed to get her inside and shut the gate again. She didn’t even seem to notice.

Good went over to her. “They don’t understand ponies, and,”

“What!?” interrupted the pegasi, her featherless wings not an intimidating sight even when extended. “Means no harm!? I got speared from the sky and my wings are ruined and they mean no harm!?” she screamed at him.

Good winced, and backed a bit away from her. “They… they were acting in defense, and you are alive, and they treated you, right?”

The pegasi just stared at him unable to really respond to that until Fine made her way over.

“The little one left a basket of food dear.” she told her husband before turning to the pegasus. “Hello, I know it must be shocking for you miss…”

“Soft Cloud.” The pegasi said, disoriented.

“Soft Cloud. I and Fine Fur, and this is my husband, Good Growth. The filly stuffing her face over there is our daughter, Gentle Eyes. Are you alright? I have received some training as a nurse before.”

Soft shook her head. “Um… no. It… it doesn’t hurt now…”

Fine nodded. “Good, tell me if it ever does. For now, join us for breakfast. I think it’s a few vegetables and some berry bush branches.”

It was. The little one had left them a basket of greenery, a few vegetables, green grass and flowers, and a few branches with berries on them. Gentle had already eaten the vegetables, and while Fine and Good weren’t batting an eye at the rest, Soft did not want to eat that. That was savage food, the kind of thing ponies ate if they were starving as far as she was concerned.

So instead, she looked around, and then went to the gate. A wooden bar blocked the way, and it was too high for her to easily move, especially since it was on the other side of the fence from her.

She looked up at the fence, and then looked at her poor wings. She couldn’t fly, or even really use them like they were, but she had always been a high jumper.

She crouched, and then leapt, nearly reaching the top but missing the first time. She thumped against the wood, which attracted Good’s attention as he munched on a branch. She jumped again and managed to scrabble atop the wooden wall that time, standing on it and puffing in slight exertion.

“Wait!” screamed Good, running that way.

Soft started before looking over at him, surprised by his outburst. “I’ll get reinforcements, and we can get you out of here in a moment!” she said, not looking behind her.

She didn’t see it, but Good saw one of the large creatures coming at her, eyes glaring and mouth frowning with a spear at the ready. But to his absolute relief, it didn’t impale her on the spear, and instead shoved her back into the pen She fell with a yell and landed in an indignant heap. The creature turned back, and began growling its own tongue behind it.

It turned back to keep watch, and then another began increasing the size of the pen, rising the wall even higher.

Soft got up and glared at Good. “What? You… you let them know!”

Good shook his head. “There’s always one of them watching. You can’t escape without them seeing. Come on. There is no way out, and they don’t hurt us, and now they’re feeding us much better, so just put up with it for a bit.”

Soft was breathing hard. Put up with being a captive? The ponies with her seemed to be acclimatizing to the situation, but she was a pegasus. Pegasi did not like to be trapped in one area, and really hated not being able to fly. The mere fact that her wings had been clipped was near painful for her, the thought of being ground bound horrible. The creatures that had speared her from the sky were the ones that had done everything to her, the same creatures that she felt Good and Fine were making excuses for.

So she argued with them, and it got very heated until both groups were fairly unhappy with each other. Soft was as far from her comforts as possible, and she said a lot of things that she would never dream of saying normally. Good and Fine, both normally friendly ponies lashed out as she did, and soon a hate blossomed between the groups.

A pegasi had threated their tenuous peace, and Soft seemed like she might be another to Good and Fine. Though their lives had suddenly shifted, it was getting better, and they felt threatened by Soft’s actions and words. Fearful of what the centaur might do because of her.

In the end, Soft was at the opposite side of the pen and everypony was upset and angry. Gentle was only confused, and Fine was doing her best to keep her daughter from crying because her parents were mad. Both Good and Fine leaned on each other a bit, comforting the other with their presence.

But while they had family, a husband and wife together, Soft sat alone in her thoughts and anger.

The Amazing Trixie Lunamoon!

“Chosen.”

I wake, hearing someone calling. The voice is faint, and seems… familiar somehow.

“Chosen.”

She sounds soft and gentle. I glance up, but do not see her. I remember where I am, and what happened. I stand up and grab my spear, wanting to find her. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

“Chosen.”

I head forward, listening, but where I look, she is nowhere to be seen.

“Chosen.”

Has she moved? The voice comes from a different way now. I hurry that way.

I stop when I see a passage like a small cave. It is dark, and the ceiling is only a little higher than myself. I am afraid of it.

“Chosen.”

The voice comes from it. Maybe just beyond it. But…

“Chosen, be brave…”

I… I… I can. I can be brave. I want to be brave! I grip my spear to me and I shut my eyes and run through the tunnel, only stopping when I felt safe. I am through it! I did it!

“Chosen.”

The voice is farther away. I should hurry.

I keep heading toward it, but it seems to get fainter and fainter every time. Until I can barely hear it, and then, she doesn’t call anymore. I step within a large place, and try calling out, but I receive no response.

I am sad for some reason. I’m not sure why, but it isn’t from being alone in this place.

I hear hoofsteps, and freeze. Is there a…

A bright blue unicorn steps into the room, smirking at me. I… I can’t move.

“Trixie knew it.” it says, and fear fights with shock. It spoke!?

“You needn’t look so stunned.” she said, tossing her head up to make her mane flip. “Trixie can speak, and speak well and eloquently!”

I calm slightly. This is really weird, but not bad… right? I take a small step forward.

“Oh! Right.” Its horn lights and a sticky black goo catches all of my hooves. I can’t pull free from it, and then the unicorn steps closer to me , almost like it is prancing.

“Trixie has caught you!” she sings. “Trixie can’t have you doing silly things like running away.”

I try to hit it with my spear, but her horn lights again, and rips it from my grip before tossing it a little bit away.

“Don’t you know how to treat a lady? Be a good little foal for Trixie, and hold still.”

I might once have been terrified into holding still. But I remember father’s bravery in the face of the unicorns, and I strive ever harder. I am no longer afraid of the unicorn.

“I’m not a foal!” I yell, trying and failing to pull free of the sticky stuff.

“Trixie thinks you are.” she says, singing again. “Maybe even a little girl foal.” What!? I will make her apologize for that! I try even harder, and my hooves shift, but no more.

“Just a little terrified girl foal, crying for her parents. But of course, its parents can’t come: They must be little foals too!”

I roar just a little like father does, and rip my hooves free. She gasps and I try to reach her, but her horn lights. It is as if I have rammed into a rock, and I am tossed away from her.

She laughs as I glare at her. I won’t win this like father would. He is large and strong. I must use other talents.

She stops laughing when a strong wind pushes at her, gusting around the room and tossing small pebbles. I get up again, and grab hold of my spear, and the pair of us stare at each other.

Her horn lights, but I am faster. The rocks shake, and knock her off balance. I throw my spear again, and that time she dodges, and I am already there. I shove her over, and she yells, tumbling.

I grab my spear again, but she is already up and her horn is lit again. That time, she throws blobs of color at me, and I am forced to jump to the side to avoid being hit by them. She keeps sending more until I get close enough to try and stab her.

Her break shifts, and a shield appears around her which stops my spear. It expands, pushing me back, but I force harder, and I make my spear tip light on fire.

The bubble pops, and she yells, ducking under the burning point. Then she scurries under me, and bucks me from behind, tossing me forward.

I call, and the air responds, cushioning my fall and enabling me to roll and throw my spear again. Air pushes it forward, and she screams when it impacts just next to her head, sticking into the stone wall.

As she is stunned from that, I rush her again. Her horn lights, and this time I must stop it; I have no more tricks. I grab the nearest thing I can.

Her horn.

The light dies the moment I touch it, she yelps when I grip it, and shivers when I grab it better.

“L, l, let Trixie’s horn goooooo..!” she yells again when I pull, moving her with ease. It is like I have a rope on her. The horn must be sensitive.

“Not until you say sorry! You are going to pay for every insult!”

“Never!” she says, and I growl. I will make her submit. No one gets to insult father.

I heave on the horn, and she screams, but I heave a little too hard. My grip slips, and I toss her.

I snatch my spear up, but she is slightly faster. She runs away through another tunnel. I chase after her, no longer caring that the tunnel is scary.

She ducks around a corner, and I hear a slamming sound, turning the corner to find a wooden door. I push at it, but it doesn’t open. I growl again, and slam into it, hearing the wood crack.

I stop for a moment, huffing. Then I hear her just beyond, muttering ‘Escape, hiding spot, something!’ to herself. She is still inside, and cornered. I smile.

I back up, and remember how my father did this. Then I roar and charge the door again, and it nearly shatters from the attack. Large parts of it fall away, revealing a small area beyond, nearly devoid of anything beyond a large table. I grab the rest and tear it away, spotting the unicorn swiftly. She is cowering under a table, her hooves over her eyes as she shakes, terrified.

She looks up with tears in her eyes as I step to her, watching her for any chance of her using the break, my spear ready to skewer her.

“Please… no…” she says, softly, quietly. Submissively. I stop, and lower my spear. She has stopped fighting, and killing a surrendering opponent is dishonorable.

I bend down and grab her horn again, causing her to scream again as I pull her to her hooves. I keep my grip strong, and bend to look into her face. I glare at her for a moment before deciding how she is to repair her insults.

“You are mine, until I am satisfied.” I tell her. “And one attempt at getting away, or using the break, and I will get my honor from your blood instead of your service. Understand?” I heard father say the same thing once; it seems right to use it here.

She doesn’t respond at first, so I squeeze her horn, making her yelp again and then say, “Yes! Yes, Trixie understands! Please let my horn go!”

I let her loose, and she holds her horn with a hoof. Then I point the spear at her, and her eyes focus on it.

“No break.” I remind her.

“Got it! No break! No break at all!” she squeaks, still staring at the spear head.

I nod, and lower the spear again.

“Chosen.”

I hear the voice again. She is nearby!

I head toward her again, but stop and turn to look back at the unicorn. She is still sitting in place, wiping at her tears. I have no time for that.

I hurry back, grab her horn again despite her yells, and lead her onward.

The voice eludes me again, always just a turn ahead. The unicorn behind me is still whining at me about my grabbing her horn, but she is changing from words to whimpers.

“Chosen, listen…”

I hesitate, and then move slowly. I think I can hear her speaking, but I can’t be sure.

“There is danger Chosen. Much will… everything… the enemy is… You must… find it… it is here… the book...”

I drag the unicorn into a place that is filled with books, endless books. I am stunned at the sight until I hear a gentle thump. I look and spot a book, newly fallen. Was that what the voice was telling me about?

I let the unicorn go and grab the book. I can’t read it though; it is written in human? Maybe?

The unicorn comes next to me, and regards the book. “Such a strange title.” she says.

“What does it say?” I ask.

“It says, ‘To Cure the Incurable’ by Healing Hooves. You can’t read then?”

I nod for a moment, but when she gets that smirk again I glare, making her shrink back. Then I stare at the book again, and wonder what the voice meant. Why do I need this?

Whatever the case, I place it within my own pouch. I need to find the camp again.

“Unicorn, come.” I say, beginning to walk away.

“My name is Trixie.”

“Trixie, come.”

“Trixie is not a show dog to be talked to like that!”

“You are a dog until your debt is paid.”

“Trixie is not a dog! Trixie deserves respeeeeeee…”

She trails off when I grab her by the horn again and lead her away that way. It shouldn’t take too long before I find an exit to this place. I am not sure if things are going well, or going poorly. Maybe I will find camp again and everything will be fine.

But I somehow doubt it. And I think that I keep hearing something following me, even over Trixie’s little whimpers. I can’t tell, but I feel like I am being hunted, and I do not like that.

I don’t tell Trixie, but I bring her a little closer to me. Someone close brings some comfort, even if it is her.

At least the forest is brighter in the light of day. I would have gone farther, but Trixie has collapsed for some reason, and she is too heavy for me to carry. Or even drag. I am waiting for her to wake up again, and wondering if she might be hungry or something. I am hungry, but I don’t fall over. Maybe it is something unique to her?

She gives a faint groan and wakes again with a content look to her. That doesn’t fade when she sees me. I am not sure if I like the look she is giving me. She seems oddly happy.

“Why did you fall over?” I ask. I don’t want to be held up by that all the time. She seems confused, sad, and then neighs at me.

“What?” I say, wondering why she did that.

“Why are you growling at Trixie?” she asks, her voice slightly softer than normal.

“I’m not growling at you, you are making horse noises at me!”

“Trixie is not! Why would Trixie do anything like that!?”

I am tired of it, and grab her horn to get her to her hooves again. And then I decide to never do that again unless I need to. She made a really weird face and didn’t yelp that time. I don’t like it.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going? Trixie has a wagon that we should get.”

“I can’t get into a wagon.”

“You will fit Trixie thinks.” She seems thoughtful, “And… Trixie… doesn’t mind if you were to… accept Trixie’s hospitality.”

She gives me a bright smile and blushes for some reason. I am not sure of this at all, but maybe it could help?

I nod. “Then... show me to it.”

Trixie glances around and for a moment I suspect that she is as lost as I am, but she chooses a direction at last.

But instead of walking forward, she tips her head toward me, and seems to wait for something. She remains like that until I feel the need to ask, “What are you doing?”

“The Everfree is thick and dangerous. We might be separated if we don’t stick together, so… you may, should, you should… grab… grab Trixie’s horn.”

She blushes again. I don’t really want to. I come up with a different solution; I grab her tail.

She yelps and glances back at me. “Not Trixie’s tail, Trixie’s horn!”

“I don’t want to touch your horn.” I tell her. She opens her mouth, blushes worse than before and then looks forward and huffs. She moves forward and I follow after her, trying not to pull on her tail too much.

The woods are thick, and disorienting. I am not used to seeing so much and yet so little. I grew up in plains, near the mountains. I hate forests. They are too… I can’t see far at all. All the green keeps getting in the way, and it is uncomfortable to travel through.

Then a few of the branches shift out of the way. A power grabs them, and I look at Trixie’s horn, glowing as it shifts the plants aside for us both. She is not doing anything harmful and it is helpful…

I stay silent, and keep following after her. So long as it doesn’t touch me, and it proves useful, then I won’t say anything.

But then Trixie stops, startled, and is suddenly pulled forward into the brush. I am left with a few hairs from her tail and I jump with the speed she vanished with. I hear her scream once and then suddenly stops.

“Trixie!” I yell, backing away from the bush. What happened to her?

“Help!”

I ready my spear and then charge forward. And then I discover what might have happened to Trixie. I trip over a vine and fall into a hole, tumbling down a ledge of dirt and mud.

I bounce off of a massive petal and land in a pool of golden ooze, somehow landing on my hooves. It is amazingly gooey, and I can’t move very much at all. I spot Trixie next to me, her front half in the ooze and her back half flailing in the air. I think she can’t breathe.

I grab onto her hind legs, and heave. She slowly shifts, and I manage to pull her head free of the ooze. She tries to get it off of her, but it seems special; her horn flickers, but doesn’t light.

I take a few breaths, calming myself. All of my legs are stuck, and Trixie is the same way now. There is a way to get out, and that way is not in panicking.

Trixie yells in frustration and says, “Who pulled Trixie!? Trixie knows that you’re there!”

A purple unicorn comes from the bushes above us and looks down at us. It has wings too…

Trixie seems stunned, or even shocked. The winged unicorn makes a few noises and Trixie starts.

“Twilight! You… Help us out of here!” Twilight seems uncertain and neighs gently. “Yes, the centaur too!” she yells. Is the winged unicorn talking somehow? Is that horse language or something?

Twilight hums, and then neighs something and Trixie stops struggling, her mouth hanging open. “What?” she says quietly. Twilight says something more, and then I think she giggles at us.

“No… no, Twilight! Twilight, you can’t..!”

Twilight’s horn lights and the golden goo begins to gently bubble before the winged unicorn retreats into the forest. Trixie is in shock for some reason, and the goo is becoming oddly warm. This is worrying me.

“Trixie?” I ask, and she doesn’t respond. She isn’t responding to anything, and has stopped trying to escape. It seems that this is up to me.

I think about my teacher’s lessons. Know your surroundings he always said. So… We are in a plant of some kind, with large white petals framing a pit of some kind. In the plant is a large amount of golden goo, which is growing hotter. And under the plant… is a lot of dried material.

Boiling things make steam, and steam is really strong air; I can toss us both out of the pit with it if I can make some. It might be dangerous, but I think it is our only chance.

I focus, and after a moment I smell the smoke under us. Now it’s just a matter of time, and of skill. I only used steam once, and even then, only with practice. I hope this works…

I manage to reach Trixie again, pull her close to me, and grab onto her. She seems confused, and then smells the smoke.

“What… what’s happening?” she says.

“If this doesn’t work… if we make it out alive… I forgive you Trixie.”

“If this doesn’t… what are you doing?”

“I am trying to boil the goo. I have set a fire under us, and that will create steam to let me get us out of here.”

“… You are roasting the Aflasia under us. We are being eaten by a plant that you are trying to light on fire!? This is not acceptable to Trixie!”

There is a sudden whoosh, and the plant catches fire, and flames roar up all around us. Trixie screams and the heat is sudden. Apparently the plant is very easy to catch fire.

The goo grows very warm, but not warm enough. Not fast enough. I need to make it… I am in the thing I am trying to boil.

…

Well, sometimes survival needs sacrifice. I focus, and the goo grows very hot and then it… explodes.

The fire is suddenly out, and the goo is over everything, no longer thick enough to keep us in place at the cost of coating us in really hot goo. It hurts, but not too badly.

My skin is red where it is, but it cools fast. I look at the gooey wall, and have an idea. I push Trixie forward, and then grab the wall. With an effort, I can lift myself up it, the stickiness enough to let me grip. So long as I keep moving, I can crawl up the wall using my hands and hooves together. I get out and then look back down.

I reach a hand down and Trixie spots me. She finally moves, and tries the same idea as I did. I grab her before she falls down again, and smile at her. She seems stunned and then comes up until I manage to grab her to me at the end.

“That… You… Trixie…” she says, gasping slightly.

“My name is Chosen.” I tell her.

“Chosen. You are the single most… confusing, irritating, incomprehensible, strange centaur that Trixie has ever met!” She seems mad at me, but after a moment she sighs and calms. “But you have also saved Trixie from being eaten. So… Trixie owes you… Trixie give you her thanks.”

I… I am confused. She seems… nice. Nothing like when I first met her. If she insulted me again, I would be surprised that she would. I resolve to ask her, but first, it is getting late and everything is sticking to us.

“Where is your wagon?” I ask.

“Um… Trixie has something to admit.” I wait, feeling unsure. The sun is soon to set, and I do not want to spend another night in the forest.

“You see… Trixie doesn’t, doesn’t… doesn’t know.”

For a moment I almost yell at her, but her sad face convinces me not to. I sigh and glance around.

I try to move before discovering something. The goo has stopped being sticky, and has turned into something really solid. I can’t let go of her.

Trixie discovers the same and tries to wiggle free. Then she sighs, and her horn lights. I stop her by head-butting her, and she yells, “What!?”

“No break! I…“ The sun suddenly sets, and leaves us in darkness. I definitely hear something nearby, and grip onto Trixie a little tighter.

“Chosen?” she asks, confused.

It… I am at my end. I had fought Trixie and been brave. I had been in the flower and been brave. But…

Now the light is gone, and I have run out of bravery. I want to be back with the others. I want to see everyone again. I want to be in a place where I am safe, and happy, and fed.

I grab onto Trixie a little tighter, and try not to cry. I want this to be over.

perspective pony

Trixie stirred when she heard a door slam. She slowly became aware of her surrounding, and was confused when she saw the door and the stone of the castle. What was she doing here?

She thought back. She had been traveling near the Everfree, heading toward Ponyville once again when… nothing. Not a clue as to how she got here. She moved, and realized that she was lacking her usual cloak and hat. She always wore that cloak and hat, and felt more than a little vulnerable without them.

And then the door had shuddered and something beyond grunted. Something big, very mad, and very strong was just beyond, and the door cracked when whatever it was growled and struck it again.

Trixie had a good, calm head. It helped her with her magic acts, and helped her to stay calm then. Trixie glanced around the room, muttering ‘escape, hiding place, anything!’, but all there was in the room was a table and a dresser placed in a corner. Near worthless hiding spots from whatever monster was trying to break in.

But the noise had stopped. Maybe it left? she thought hopefully.

Then she heard a bloodthirsty roar, and she screamed and ducked under the table in terror, hearing the door shatter as she covered her face with her hooves. Her heart beat hard and fast, and she shivered in fear.

She heard hoofsteps, and glanced up. A centaur was over her, seemingly huge from her prone position, a spear gripped tight in one hand as it glared.

The spear was aimed to skewer her, and a few tears came to her eyes at the thought of it. “Please… no…” she whispered. It seemed to hesitate, and the spear lowered. It glare grew slightly worse.

Then it bent down, viciously grabbed her horn, and heaved her upright with it. She thought she screamed, but it was hard to recall; unicorn horns are very delicate and, unless fortified by magic, there are near crippling to the unicorn when touched, much less gripped firmly. Like a limb that had fallen asleep that was bumped against something.

The centaur bent down to stare at her, and she was temporarily caught by its own face. It was young, if alien. She had drastically overestimated its size as well; she was just a little bigger than it, discounting the height gained by its torso.

Then it spoke, its voice young, but angry, almost enraged, ““You are mine, until I am satisfied. And one attempt at getting away, or using the break, and I will get my honor from your blood instead of your service. Understand?”

Why was he so angry at her? Trixie was confused, wondering why he was mad and what he was speaking about; what was ‘break’? Then he squeezed her horn, and she yelped at the sensations. “Yes! Yes, Trixie understands!” she managed. “Please let my horn go!”

He let go of her, and she groaned softly before rubbing her horn with a hoof. Then the spear was thrust in front of her face, and her eyes focused on its point to the near exclusion of all else.

“No break.” The centaur said.

“Got it! No break! No break at all!” she squeaked. She had no idea what a ‘break’ was, but she was willing to agree to anything to get the spear away from her.

The spear left, and Trixie sat down, wiping at her eyes. Why and how had this happened to her? This was easily the single worst thing to happen to her as far as she was concerned.

Then the centaur came back, and grabbed her horn again, using it to lead her onwards as she yelled and yelped with every change in grip. He seemed to have a destination in mind, but Trixie was far too preoccupied.

She was feeling very strange from her horn’s abuse, and her yells had reduced to whimpers as the sensations kept growing with each passing moment, slowly beginning to overwhelm her. Then the centaur had stopped, and walked forward slowly. The sensations remained, and Trixie was no longer sure if she wanted him to increase them, or to let go.

The pair went into a library, and the centaur stopped. Trixie breathing hard, and then almost felt disappointed when he let go to head forward and grab a book from the fallen piles.

He seemed very focused on it, and he was a fair distance from her. She might be able to run from him. She was probably faster than him.

But she had never been in the castle. She didn’t know how long he had been in the castle either. What if she got stuck in a dead end? What if he knew a shortcut of some kind? He had threatened to hurt her if she tried…

She made up her mind. She went to his side again, and regarded the book her held. It was an odd one to be sure; it sounded absurd.

“Such a strange title.” she muttered.

“What does it say?” the centaur asked her.

“It says, ‘To Cure the Incurable’ by Healing Hooves. You can’t read then?” Trixie asked. The centaur nodded, and for a moment Trixie saw the pony in the centaur instead of the monster. She smiled, and then he had glared at her, making her flinch and duck slightly.

I placed the book within one of its pouches and then turned to leave.

“Unicorn, come.” he said.

“My name is Trixie.”

“Trixie, come.”

“Trixie is not a show dog to be talked to like that!”

“You are a dog until your debt is paid.

“Trixie is not a dog! Trixie deserves respeeeeeee…”

The centaur resumed dragging her by her horn, and Trixie fell prey to the sensations from it. She didn’t much care where they were or what was happening anymore. She was only marginally still conscious, and after a few moments, it was too much for her and she collapsed.

Trixie stirred and groaned faintly. She felt very good, almost oddly good and she knew why. She gave a gentle huff of contentment and opened her eyes. She saw the forest, but didn’t care. Then she saw the young centaur, and if anything, her smile grew slightly.

But then he growled at her and she hesitated, feeling upset by his display of apparent aggression.

“Why are you growling at Trixie?” she asked, hurt.

“What?” he said, confused.

“Why are you growling at Trixie?” she repeated.

“I’m not growling at you, you are making horse noises at me!”

“Trixie is not! Why would Trixie do anything like that!?”

The centaur huffed, and then grabbed her horn to lift her to her hooves again. Trixie nearly prolonged it, almost giddy at the sensations now. They were powerful and strange, but they felt very nice when they were at their peak and afterwords. He let go to her disappointment.

“Come on.” he said, glancing around.

“Where are we going? Trixie has a wagon that we should get.”

“I can’t get into a wagon.”

“You will fit Trixie thinks.” Trixie felt a touch giddy at having him in her wagon, but managed to compose herself. “And… Trixie… doesn’t mind if you were to… accept Trixie’s hospitality.”

She smiles at him, and tried to stop blushing. He seemed unsure, but nodded.

“Then… show me to it.”

Trixie hesitated, glancing around. She had no idea where her wagon might be, but she was totally unwilling to admit that she was lost. So she chose a direction at random and nodded as if she always knew that was the right way.

Then she had an idea before she took the first step, and tipped her head toward the centaur, hoping that he would hold her horn again. He only stared in confusion until he finally asked, “What are you doing?”

Trixie thought quickly. “The Everfree is thick and dangerous. We might be separated if we don’t stick together, so… you may, should, you should… grab… grab Trixie’s horn.” She blushed upon saying it, but congratulated herself; that sounded almost natural!

He seemed concerned, and grabbed her tail instead. It was somehow worse than being grabbed by her horn originally and she yelped.

“Not Trixie’s tail, Trixie’s horn!” she objected.

“I don’t want to touch your horn.” The centaur said. Trixie opened her mouth before realizing what she was going to say and blushed heavily before looking away. She huffed, and tried to pass it off as a reluctant agreement, and then moved forward, the centaur following and not pulling her tail too often.

The Everfree is thick and difficult to travel through, even for ponies. After a bit, Trixie noticed that the centaur was particularly ill at ease in the woods, so she used just a touch of magic to shift things out of the way for her and for him.

They traveled like that for a bit, The centaur holding onto her tail and Trixie pretending to know where she was going. Then Trixie passed through a bush and stopped. Had she heard something?

And then magic yanked her forward, and she screamed, falling headfirst into a golden ooze. Trixie knew the plant; it was an aflasia, a giant plant known for its sap; it was said that it could block magic. She faintly heard something, but she was preoccupied with trying to get her head free, so she could breathe again.

She felt something grab her, and the centaur pulled her head free, but he was also in the sap. Both seemed stuck and Trixie tried and failed to use her magic. It seemed the magic blocking tendencies of the sap were true to her dismay.

But somepony had yanked her, and she wanted to know who. “Who pulled Trixie!? Trixie knows that you’re there!” she yelled, upset.

To Trixie’s shock, Twilight came out of the bushes and looked down at her.

“You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Twilight said, and Trixie shook her head.

“Twilight! You…” she changed tactics, “Help us out of here!”

Twilight looked unsure, and asked, “The centaur as well?”

“Yes, the centaur too!”

Twilight looked thoughtful again, and then said, “No.”

Trixie stopped struggling, shocked. “What?” she whispered.

“I think I am going to leave you both in there. A fitting end for a pitiful unicorn like yourself, but don’t worry, you won’t starve. A little bit of magic, and the aflasia sap turns acidic; you will both melt and feed the plant!” Twilight giggled.

“No… no, Twilight! Twilight, you can’t!”

Twilight’s horn lit, and Trixie saw the spell and felt the change in the sap. She was too shocked to do or say anything more. Twilight had just killed them both. She had condemned them to death, the same unicorn that had forgiven her after everything she had done.

Had Twilight lied to Trixie? Was Twilight really this kind of pony? The answer seemed to be yes, and Trixie couldn’t find the strength to keep struggling. There didn’t seem anything left for her. There was no way to escape, and even if she did, Twilight Sparkle had tried to kill her. Who would believe her? Would Twilight try again if she lived?

Why had she even gone toward Ponyville? Heading happily toward a LIE. There had never been forgiveness, never any friendship. Twilight and her friends had only been leading her on. They had been the only ponies who had suggested that they cared for her and now…

Now she and the centaur would die, in a pit, slowly and painfully.

She felt something grab her, and then felt warmth next to her. She glanced up and saw the centaur holding onto her, focusing, and then smelled smoke.

“What… What’s happening?” she asked, still numb from her realizations.

“If this doesn’t work… if we make it out alive… I forgive you Trixie.” The centaur said, looking up at the ledge.

“If this doesn’t… what are you doing?”

“I am trying to boil the goo. I have set a fire under us, and that will create steam to let me get us out of here.”

“… You are roasting the Aflasia under us. We are being eaten by a plant that you are trying to light fire to!? This is not acceptable to Trixie!”

There was a sudden whoosh as the aflasia caught fire. It burned hard and fast, the flames roaring up all around them and Trixie screamed. To her, the fire only seemed to be a way to kill them both faster. the sap wouldn't boil or create steam.

The heat kept rising, but then the heat of the sap rose suddenly. And then it exploded, and coated nearly everything in a near burning coat of sap. Trixie could only stand in shock as the flames died instantly and the centaur glanced around before managing to scale the ledge, using the sap to his advantage.

Trixie looked up at him, and he held a hand down to her. She moved forward, and tried to climb the same way he had. She made it a fair distance, but if the centaur hadn’t caught her hoof, she would have fallen back. He smiled, and Trixie couldn’t decide what she was feeling.

He heaved her up, and then held onto her. He was a great comfort as she slowly processed what just happened.

“That… You… Trixie…”

“My name is Chosen.” The centaur said.

“Chosen.” A good name she decided, “You are the single most… confusing, irritating, incomprehensible, and strange centaur that Trixie has ever met!” She yelled, letting off some steam before sighing. He had just saved both their lives after all. “But you have also saved Trixie from being eaten. So… Trixie owes you… Trixie give you her thanks.”

How had she gotten so close to a creature that had tried to kill her when they first met? Somehow, Chosen was the only thing left to her. And Trixie discovered that she didn’t really mind that.

“Where is your wagon?” Chosen asked, and Trixie stiffened before sighing. She should be honest with him. She owed him her life.

“Um… Trixie had something to admit.” She said, fidgeting.

“You see… Trixie doesn’t… doesn’t know.” She gave him her most apologetic face, and he hesitated before glancing around.

She tried to move, but discovered that the aflasia sap had hardened, and left her connected to Chosen. Something that she could remedy with a little magic.

She focused, and then Chosen head-butted her. She yelled and he glared.

“No break!” he said, and Trixie realized that break was magic to him. “I…”

The sun suddenly set, and Trixie was stunned at Chosen’s sudden change. He had been mad, but he was suddenly terrified, and gripped onto her tighter.

“Chosen?” she asked, confused. She didn’t get a response. Not in words.

She heard his breathing hitch every now and then, and she could feel something wet. He held onto her as if he desperately needed comfort, and Trixie wondered exactly how old the centaur that held onto her was.

There didn’t seem much left to do. The sap would finish hardening in the morning, allowing them to shatter it and escape. Until then…

Trixie decided to try and comfort Chosen as best she could. She didn’t know any songs that seemed appropriate, so she just hummed at random, trying to think of something. After a bit, Chosen seemed asleep, and Trixie sighed.

“Trixie doesn’t know anymore. Are you monster or pony? Stallion or child? Trixie doesn’t know, but know this Chosen:”

“I owe you my life, and I value my life. And… I… I need you. You might be the only pony left that kind of cares about Trixie. And if Trixie can make you smile, or just be a stuffed rabbit for you to hold onto, then so be it.”

“Trixie won’t leave your side. We’ll go together, maybe make a new act. I can do the magic, and you can… cheer or something, and I won’t care if nopony else show up. Because you’ll be there for me, and I’ll be there for you.”

She yawned. “You sleep. The Amazing Trixie will protect you from bugbears and nightmares. I promise. And Trixie... doesn't break promises..."

Chosen? Rarity?

Chosen? Rarity?

Martuk was upset. He stomped through the camp, growling and none but Gori dared to approach him. His son had been missing a whole day, and none had found any hint as to his fate.

Gori was doing his best, sitting in his tent, focusing. His mind stepped from his body, and he walked in spirit, wandering the forest in his search.

It was going poorly. While spirit walking was normally hard and rendered vision foggy and blurry, the magic that inhabited near everything made them near impossible to see.

It was as if most things had great cracks in them, void where there should be something. Even the big trees were hard to discern. Gori was concerned; the world was far, far worse than he had first suspected. The elements were in chaos, blazing with the need to keep everything together.

He hadn’t called on them, but he knew that should he do so, he would either receive no response or receive a nigh overpowering one. He worried that Chosen might accidentally discover that; it would be easy to hurt himself with the power.

And yet… something other than the elements wove things together. Like gentle string of many colors, so delicate and yet unbreakable. Gori had seen nothing like it. It seemed to be the only thing keeping the world together, stretching over the cracks to hold the pieces in place.

He paused in his search, and then called himself back to his body. He open his eyes back in his tent, and sighed. While an exceptionally effective way to find things, disassociation with the body was very possible. It lead to death.

He forced his numb legs to work, and stepped from his tent. Martuk was nearby, pawing at the ground and ripping at the grass in his worry.

“Martuk, calm yourself.” he said as he stepped close.

“My only son Gori!” Martuk roared. “I will never calm until I have him back!”

“Chosen is very smart. I am sure that he is safe Martuk.”

Martuk hesitated. “Perhaps. But I do not,”

“Father!”

Gori and Martuk started, Chosen exiting the woods, waving at them. Gori smiled, and Martuk seemed unable to move for a moment.

“Father, I found you,”

Martuk grabbed onto Chosen, and lifted him into the air, holding him close. Chosen gasped, but grabbed back.

They were like that for a moment, the tribe gathering close. Martuk set Chosen down and for an instant he looked near to tears. Then he set his face into a relieved smile.

“Chosen.” Gori said, smiling.

“Teacher!”

“Did you find the woods an experience?”

Chosen made a face. “I don’t like them. I can’t see anything in there!”

Gori chuckled. Martuk then looked at the tribe.

“Gather the tribe! I wish to celebrate this! Tonight, we feast!”

“Why does Soft Hoof return the bird horse?”

“I wanted to speak with you Chosen.”

Chosen stared at his teacher, and Gori took a breath.

“Are you unharmed from the wood, or are you hiding something?” he asked.

“Nothing. I am unhurt teacher.”

“Your hand seemed unsteady Chosen. You were overly rough with the wing, and your cutting was worse than before. Perhaps your time in the woods has left you shaken.”

Chosen looked down, and Gori waited. They had just finished clipping the bird horse’s wings again, and Gori was wondering if Chosen was feeling as good as he claimed.

Chosen had done an oddly bad job, breaking feathers, pulling out some of the down, and often leaving them shattered. Gori knew that it must have been and was going to be a painful experience for the horse.

Gori had also been surprised when the bird horse had awoken; she shouldn’t have recovered so fast. It was a simple mixture that should have kept her asleep for some time, and not terrified as they were working.

After a moment he sighed. “Take some rest Chosen.”

Chosen nodded and left the tent. He glanced over at the pen, and saw the horses gathered near the unresponsive Soft Cloud and nodded slowly. He smiled.

Then he went elsewhere, and gathered a few things. When asked, his response was that it ‘was for a surprise.’

Perspective, pony

Soft Cloud was doing better. Her feathers were slowly coming back in and after becoming friends with Good and Fine, she was dealing with her imprisonment far better.

Good sighed, looking at their current food. Another one of the beings had given them food, and it was usually cut grass. Nothing like the vegetables and treats that the little one brought them.

Fine was worried about him; he had never forgone visiting them, and yet, they hadn’t seen him for a while.

“Grass?” Fine asked.

“Yep. Old grass.”

Soft made a disgusted sound. “I don’t get it. Where is the good stuff?”

“I don’t know.” Good said.

“I do hope the little one is alright. Maybe he’s sick?”

“No way for us to find out.” Soft commented. Good tried the grass before scrunching his face up. It was a struggle for him to swallow it and the moment he did so he took a massive gulp of water from the trough the beings had given them.

“That’s bad.”

Soft groaned, and Gentle looked up at Fine. “Do I have to eat that?” she asked. Fine shook her head, but Gentle added, “I’m hungry mommy.”

Soft glanced away, and stopped. “Hey!” she said, pointing. The others looked and their faces brightened. The little one was nearby.

They went toward him, and Fine called out, “There you are!”

He glanced toward them, but something was off. He smiled, but he didn’t come closer.

The big one called for him, and for just an instant they thought they saw a look of contempt pass over his face as he turned to hurry after the large one.

Good and Fine were confused. “That was odd.” Soft said. “He doesn’t do that normally.”

“He doesn’t…” Fine murmured. “Maybe he is sick, or…”

“Maybe we were imagining things, and he has stuff to do.” Good said. “For that matter, the old one is heading this way.”

They glanced, and watched Gori enter the pen. Soft started; something about him was distressing her, but she wasn’t sure what.

He went to the group, and with a single swipe, drew something across Soft’s muzzle. She only had time to gasp before fainting, and with a single motion, the old one heaved her up and headed away with her.

Good and Fine didn’t respond until he was gone, too shocked. What had just happened?

Soft stirred. She felt numb, and discovered that she was well tied. One of her wings was being held, and every now and then she felt a gentle tug.

She was in one of the tents, a large one by the look of it. She tried to see what was happening, but a firm hand held her still. A few half grown feathers floated past her, and she realized.

The old one was clipping her wings!

She jerked, and then screamed, feeling something slice into a wing. She heard their growls, and she was temporarily let go. She rolled, trying to make it away.

She hadn’t made it far before the little one grabbed onto her. She stared at the feathers, her feathers, littering the ground and the old one with the knife in his hand.

The old one said something, and the little one responded. She was a little panicked, but they were more than enough to get her to hold still. And the knives near her wings. She had jerked once; she didn’t want to again.

So she closed her eyes and tried to endure it, a few tears escaping. A pegais’ wings were precious, as was the feathers. Soft held her own in high regard.

To have them manipulated and clipped was not only degrading, it was near invasive for her.

She would gasp every now and then, and after a while, just cried. One of her wings was being near abused, and she cried from the pain of it. From the knowledge of what was happening to her wings.

She wasn’t really responsive when somepony put her back in the pen, only standing there for a moment before going to lie down, Fine trying to help her feel better.

She couldn’t really feel better. She felt like she was in a nightmare, and despite the fact that it wasn’t as bad as she originally thought, it was horrible in different ways. The little one had done a terrible job on her wing too; broken feathers that were going to need to be pulled out were common.

It hadn’t been that way when her wings were first cut, but Soft knew that she was going to be in a bit of pain and discomfort for a few days.

It was growing later in Ponyville. Twilight was in her castle, doing her very best to try and figure out the best way to approach the centaur. Everything was calm, peaceful, and nopony thought that something might happen.

Sweetie Belle was with her own friends in their clubhouse when she heard something.

“Sweetie!” she heard her sister call.

All three fillies blinked; Rarity almost never came to the clubhouse.

“Sweetie!”

“Rarity!?” she called out, peering from the window to spot the white unicorn waiting outside.

“Sweetie, come here! I have something to tell you!”

Sweetie glanced at the others. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I suppose…”

“Come on Sweetie! I’ll see you bright and early.” Scootaloo promised.

“I got farm work, but I’ll try ta get here fast.” Applebloom added.

Sweetie bid them farewell, and headed to Rarity.

“I thought you said that you… didn’t like the clubhouse.” she said.

“Some things are more important than things I do not like. Besides, I don’t have to spend too much time here.”

Sweetie perked up. If something was important enough for Rarity to come to the clubhouse, it was a good thing. Rarity wasn’t upset or crying. Therefore, it was a good thing. She wondered what it was.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A surprise. Follow me dear.”

Sweetie did so, pondering what it could be. She couldn’t really guess; with Rarity, it was hard to have an idea of what ‘a surprise’ could be. It could be lots of things.

Like a new fashion design for fillies, or some kind of business contract for Rarity. Or maybe an actual gift, or some kind of good news for Sweetie. Like, she could stay over at Applebloom’s for a while, or maybe Rarity was going to offer to help expand the clubhouse.

Or Rarity wanted to give her something, and was just being sneaky about it. Of course, that meant the gift could be anything. Rarity tried, but she was bad at giving gifts. She bought for herself, and didn’t really understand other’s likes and dislikes.

Of course, Sweetie would still like it. It was a gift from her sister after all. If it was a gift. Which it might not be. Maybe Rarity had given her a hint?

‘Some things are more important than things I do not like.’ Something that was… actually; since when had Rarity ever said something like that?

Rarity would never put up with something for a surprise. She might to help somepony, but not for a surprise. She would wait at the boutique for Sweetie to return, and then tell/give her it.

‘A surprise. Follow me dear.’ Dear. Dear. Not darling. Not Sweetie, not any nickname, degrading or otherwise. Dear. Sweetie had a realization.

Rarity never said dear. She considered it too uncultured. Rarity would never say dear. And if Rarity would never say dear, and was acting out of place…

Rarity was not the pony in front of her. Mystery solved.

But then who was she following?

She focused again, and saw ‘Rarity’ still in front of her. She opened her mouth to say something when ‘Rarity’ stopped.

“We’re here!” she said, turning around. Sweetie glanced around and froze. They were in the Everfree. Sweetie couldn’t even tell where they had just come from.

“Do you want your surprise now dear?”

Sweetie backed a step away from her, trying and failing to recall how they had gotten there. She had been daydreaming too much.

“You’re not Rarity.” she said.

‘Rarity’ cocked her head. “Whatever do you mean dear? Or course I’m Rarity. Who else could I be?”

“You’re… you just look like her, somehow.” Sweetie bumped into a tree and silently bemoaned her chances.

‘Rarity’ frowned. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Rarity wouldn’t ever say ‘dear’.” Sweetie said with conviction.

“Figures.” ‘Rarity’ said, her voice the same but her speech suddenly different. “I obviously didn’t spend the right time watching. Verbal ticks, I should have known. No matter though.”

Sweetie turned, and didn’t make it a single step before floating into the air.

“Uh, uh, uh, my little sister.”

“I’m not your sister!” Sweetie yelled, struggling uselessly.

“Fine. Quit wiggling my little prey.” 'Rarity' sang, smiling.

Sweetie froze, her eyes growing huge. “Don’t eat me!” she screamed, resuming her thrashing, more so than before.

‘Rarity’ laughed. She stayed that way for a moment, hearing Sweetie’s yells of things like ‘I don’t taste good!’ and ‘HELP!’ If anything, her smile grew wider.

“I’m not going to eat you.” She said, and Sweetie slowly calmed.

“What did you do to Rarity!?”

“Nothing.”

“What..! What are you going to do to me?” she asked fearfully.

“Simple. I am going to leave you in the woods, and watch as you struggle to find your way back, being hunted by the creatures here. I will watch you run, terrified and exhausted and dirty as you run just to survive. And you will know that I will be there, staring at your every breath, your every moment, drinking in that terror and maybe even pain.”

“The others are good, but you will be far, far better little Sweetie Belle. In fact…”

Sweetie screamed as something sliced into her rear leg.

“A simple handicap, to make sure I get that pain.” Sweetie was rotated to stare into ‘Rarity’s’ eyes. “Have a good time out there.”

Then she was thrown, sailing over the trees before crashing through them and into a bush in some pain. Her leg was the worst though; even moving it was painful, and left her unable to truly run.

She got to her hooves and began leaving as fast as she could, directly opposite where ‘Rarity’ was laughing.

“I almost forgot! Surprise!” she heard call after her, and Sweetie pushed herself a little harder, the laughter following after her.

Something nearby roared, and Sweetie sobbed, rushing into the bushes. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, and even painful, especially with her leg, but she felt a little safer. She began heading through them, determined to try and make it back to Ponyville. Or Zecora. Or Sweet Apple Acers, anywhere that she could be safe again.

Something big passed nearby, and she huddled up, trying to not whimper too loudly. And despite being completely hidden by the bushes, she could somehow know that ‘Rarity’ was watching. And enjoying every moment of pain and terror.

She made it a fair ways before night fell, leaving a crying filly mostly blind in the darkness of her hiding places. She fumbled about for someplace clear, and discovered a hole in a tree. Just big enough for her and maybe enough to keep her hidden.

She stuffed herself inside, her leg bleeding, covered in little cuts, already dirty. It was small, and uncomfortable, but it was something.

She sobbed, and tried to stifle herself with her own hooves, hearing the Everfree’s monster’s calls. She couldn’t stop herself from crying; the little filly torn from her home and tossed into the wild.

She half expected for something to find her and eat her any moment.

For a moment she wanted somepony to find her, but then she remembered ‘Rarity’. Would the mare stop them from finding her? Do something to them? Was it going to be better for somepony to find her, or for them to never find her again?

She imagined her friends finding ‘Rarity’, and being led astray. Being hurt and thrown into the Everfree, and she cried harder.

Rescue was unlikely, and if it did come, it might just be worse than being lost in the Everfree alone.

Call the lightning, despair

I wake to cracking sounds, and a gentle motion. I move, and something cracks off of me.

I remember the plant and its goo and open my eyes to spot Trixie, trying to get the goo off of her without moving too much. When she notices that I am awake she says, “Good morning” and shakes herself, sending little golden shards everywhere.

I follow her example, but most of the stuff is sticking to my skin and fur. Trixie seems to have it much worse, and it hurts to pull it free. Even on my skin, it takes a few hairs with it, and I think that pulling on my fur will leave bald spots.

Trixie seems to discover the same, and groans a little. Her horn lights.

I know that it is her, and I know that she is trying to help. But the moment I feel the tug on me, I slap her horn, causing her to yell and stop. I am very awake now; I think that…

I really, really hate break. I don’t want to feel it, and don’t want to see it. Trixie is safe, but even so, I don’t want her to use it unless it is needed. Really needed.

“Chosen!” she yells.

“No break.” I remind her.

She stares at me, her face thoughtful and concerned and confused. Then she nods slowly, and smiles.

“Alright. No break. Trixie thinks the sap will get out if she can get some water, maybe some soap or something…”

“Soap?” What is soap?

Trixie only stares before saying, “Never mind.”

I want to know, but I suppose it can wait. I glance around the forest, wondering which way we should go in. I think Trixie is just as lost as I am, so any direction is alright.

If we keep walking in a line, we will leave the forest. It can’t be too big. Right?

“This way.” I say, and head that way. Trixie trots after me.

I still hate the forest, but with Trixie, it is a little better. She gets in front of me, and tries to clear a path ahead for us, not using her break at all that time. Every now and then she asks how I am doing.

I am growing hungry, and it is growing worse. When did I last eat? Yesterday maybe. Maybe even the day before that. I should find something soon.

“I am growing hungry.” I tell her.

Trixie glances around. “Maybe that bush there? Trixie is pretty sure that it is safe to eat.”

She notices my look. I do not eat plants like she does. At least, not that kind of plant. I check my pouches, hoping that I stuck something in there.

A few rocks, two carrots and one piece of jerky, from the cows. It is something at least.

I begin eating a carrot, and we keep going. The journey is mostly full of trees and plants. Every now and then we find thorns in great tangles or areas that have predatory markings. Something has been clawing trees like a cat, but a cat does not get claws that big. Trixie gets tense when we spot them, and we avoid those areas.

We walk for some time, and the forest shows no signs of letting up. Then we hear a roar, loud and somewhat nearby. Something is angry.

Trixie freezes, but tries to relax. “I don’t think it is near us.” I tell her.

Another roar, and a distant cracking. And then a piercing scream. We stand in shock, but then Trixie rushes forward, toward the sound. I rush after her, uncertain.

I do not feel up to fighting something, not even if someone is in danger from it. I have the spear, and I am growing fast, but I am no warrior. And whatever is roaring sounds very bad.

Trixie pushes through the plants, and there is a pair of yells before a loud thud. I step through, discovering a cowering filly with a bloody leg and Trixie against a tree. She hit it fairly hard, and isn’t moving.

I look up, and spot a giant lion thing. Bat wings on its back, and a big, spiky, shelled tail. I realize several things.

The filly behind me is a unicorn. A weak, hurt, unable to run away unicorn filly. She is sobbing, and only weakly moves, staring at me. Trixie is hurt, and possibly knocked herself out on the tree. Maybe she tripped on the filly.

The beast is larger than I am, it is larger than father is. And it looks fast. If I run, it will catch me; I do not move fast in the forest.

And if I run, it will devour Trixie and the filly instead. I can’t run. I ready my spear, and the beast growls at me. We stare at each other, and I try to figure out what it might do. Father says that you need to know your opponent.

I move first, and call the earth. I wanted to stun it with dust, maybe a rock.

A pillar of earth slammed into it, and it roared as it stumbled away from the strike. I am stunned; I did not… I can’t do that! I don’t think teacher can do that!

The cat jumps at me, and I only just manage to avoid its swipe, too caught up in my thoughts. The next one hits me, and its claws slice at me, the wound burning.

I yell, but drive it away, stabbing it with my spear. It backs away, and we both stare at each other. I am hurt, it is hurt, but it seems so strong still, my spear strikes doing little to nothing to it. It glances at Trixie and the filly, and then looks back at me. The intent is obvious.

I won’t let it.

I step forward, and yell at it, and it focuses on me again. It is more cautious, and we bat at each other for a little while. Then I call the elements again, and it begins raining. That was fast, but teacher did say that it would be very fast.

Teacher has always told me that of everything a shaman can do, that lightning is the easiest thing to use. I comes faster than anything else, and it is always devastating. Always eager to come and answer the call.

He also says that the shaman calling is the target most often. That the lightning loves that it was called, and wants to show appreciation. That is not a good thing, and to anger the lightning is worse than to receive its thanks.

I must guide it without angering it. It is my only chance against the beast.

And to guide it, I should be closer. Just in case.

I thrust, and move closer to it, pushing back against it. It almost seems surprised, but holds its position. That is very good; I expected it to back away, and now I am close. Its claws have a harder time reaching me, and should it try to bite, I will make it regret that decision.

This is working. I can feel the lightning gathering above me, and it is eager. Very eager. I just need to…

The beast’s tail hits me, stabbing into my chest. I didn’t even see it, don’t even feel it, and it lifts me with the tail. Something is burning inside me.

My thoughts are weak. My body falls limp, and I see it smirking. It opens its mouth to roar a victory.

I call the lightning.

My vision goes white, and then fades to black, and I can think no more.

Perspective, pony

Trixie woke first, and held still, trying not to disturb Chosen. She gently sighed, feeling the sap solidified on her. It was stuck in her fur, and she gently moved to try and get rid of it.

It wasn’t really working; it was very stuck.

Chosen woke at her motion, and he moved, shaking himself to break the sap as he woke.

“Good morning.” Trixie chirped, moving a little away and shaking, shattering the sap. Most of it was still stuck to her, particularly her mane and tail.

The sap was frustrating, but a little magic would get rid of it without much difficulty. Her horn lights, and she began gently removing sap from herself. After a second, she included Chosen, and was shocked when he slapped her horn.

“Chosen!” she yelled.

“No break.” he said, and Trixie noted the odd fear he had. She was confused, and concerned; why was he afraid of the bre, the magic? Trixie didn’t know, but smiled at him. The sap was only an annoyance, and she could put up with it for a little bit. It would melt in water.

“Alright. No break.” she said, and Chosen relaxed. “Trixie thinks the sap will get out if she can get some water, and maybe some soap or something…”

“Soap?” Chosen asked, and Trixie stared. Chosen didn’t know what soap was? What kind of life did he…

Well… she had found him in the castle (he found her, but she edited that), and it was possible that he lived on his own for most of his life. Of course he never heard of soap, living in the Everfree.

“Never mind.” she said, and stretched as Chosen began looking for a direction. Trixie herself was fairly bad at directions, and was willing to let Chosen lead. Maybe he knew a better path.

“This way.” he said, and she followed after him. After a moment, she began trying to clear a path for him, reminding herself not to use magic. He would eventually grow used to it, but not right then.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, gaining a nondescript hum. Chosen seemed off, but also seemed unwilling to tell her why. She wondered what was wrong; she felt something like friendship with him, and didn’t want him to suffer.

When he stumbled slightly, she stopped and tried again, “Are you alright?”

“I am hungry.” he said at last, and Trixie nodded. She glanced around, and spotted a bush that she recalled being edible. Some ponies even ate it regularly.

“Maybe that bush there?” She pointed at it, “Trixie is pretty sure that it is safe to eat.”

Chosen grimaced slightly, and Trixie had a thought. Centaur are like ponies, but maybe… maybe their diet is… not plants.

She worried for a second before Chosen pulled a carrot from a pouch and ate that. She gave a sigh of relief; she wasn’t sure what she could or would do if he… didn’t eat plants.

They kept going for a while, Trixie avoiding the poisonous plants, and the pair of them avoiding the clumps of thorns so common in the Everfree. Every now and then they found traces of a manticore, and Trixie felt very worried whenever they spotted one of the clawed trees.

Then they heard a roar, and Trixie froze. That was definitely a manticore, and closer than she wanted to be near to a wild one.

“I don’t think it is near us.” Chosen said. Instantly after, another roar came, along with the sounds of a tree breaking. Trixie heard a scream, a scream of a filly. To her own surprise, she rushed forward, and after a moment, heard Chosen behind her.

She pushed her way through the undergrowth, tripped on something soft, and her last sight was a tree’s trunk before she hit it.

Sweetie was creeping through the forest again. Her leg was bad, but it was a little better than yesterday, and she was trying to find a way home.

It wasn’t going well. She got caught in several thorns, and was growing hungry. She didn’t know if she could eat anything in the Everfree.

She heard something nearby, and flinched. She glanced around, and spotted a tree nearby her shrubbery. She also saw a manticore, sniffing at the ground.

The great beast lifted its head into the air, and then looked at the bush where Sweetie was. It padded toward her, and Sweetie darted out to rush up the tree, running on adrenaline, managing to ignore her leg until she was in the tree.

She hissed at it. Her leg burned, and wasn’t moving anymore.

The manticore roared when it spotted her, but the tree was too high for it to reach her. She gripped onto a branch, and stared down as it stared up at her. She was safe, and it slowly began losing interest. Maybe it would get bored and leave?

Then she heard a faint chuckle, and a touch of magic broke a branch near her.

And it fell into the beast’s eye.

It stumbled back, bellowing and then glared at her, growling dangerously. It rushed and rammed into the tree, and with a great cracking sound, it slowly fell over.

Sweetie shrieked as the tree fell, and tumbled across the ground, hurting more than ever.

She tried to get to her feet, but found herself unable to do anything more than crawl. The manticore grinned, and headed toward her, and she stared in horror, crying from the fear and pain.

She heard something behind her, and somepony tripped over her to slam into a tree.

Sweetie stared at the unconscious Trixie in shock, and then stopped and stared as a centaur stepped past her. It readied a spear, and stood between her and the manticore. Like a hero.

She was still crying, but she began hoping in the centaur. It was the only thing that was stopping the manticore.

The centaur stomped, and a pillar of rock slammed into the beast and Sweetie gasped. The beast recovered, and managed to claw at the surprised centaur, who only just managed to spear its paw.

The pair backed away from each other, and the manticore glanced at Sweetie who flinched. She shut her eyes and waited, but when she heard a yell, she saw the centaur purposefully attracting the beast.

It began raining, and Sweetie began whispering, ‘please, please, please.’, hoping that the centaur might be able to save them all.

The centaur moved closer, the manticore seemingly having a hard time with it. The beast did not want to be speared again, and Sweetie began smiling; the centaur was winning!

Then she saw the manticore’s tail twitch. She opened her mouth, but wasn’t able to utter a sound before the tail nearly impaled the centaur. It looked shocked, and the spear dropped from its grasp as the manticore lifted it up. It smirked, and Sweetie sobbed. It had won.

The entire area was suddenly bathed in white, and a thunderous boom drowned out the manticore’s bellow of pain. The biggest lightning bolt Sweetie had ever seen hit the manticore and fried it, it thrashing and tossing the centaur from its tail before it collapsed.

Sweetie stared before pushing herself to her hooves. She had to help it.

She limped to the centaur. She thought it was male, and he was still breathing, his chest with a thin but deep puncture. Sweetie knew that he needed help, but didn’t know exactly what she could do.

He was nearly dead, bleeding from the scratches and burnt by the lightning. Too heavy to move, and too hurt for her to have an idea about how to help. She sobbed little more; he had saved her, saved Trixie, but he was dying.

In slight desperation, she pushed at his wound, stopping the blood flow, and just hoped that he would somehow survive.

Trixie groaned, and woke, dazed. She spotted the smoking manticore and stared. What had happened? She looked, and spotted Chosen, near dead, and the sleeping Sweetie next to him. She rushed to them, and stared at Chosen in mild shock.

Trixie focused, used her own magic to try to help. She didn’t know healing, and his injuries were severe. The spike had nearly gotten his heart. She did her best, and when that wasn’t working she kept trying. Feeding Chosen energy to keep his heart beating, keep his lungs breathing. She found the poison in his veins, and tried harder, the toxin fighting her.

She didn’t want to see him die. He had just saved her, again, and saved the little unicorn. He didn’t deserve to perish there. She pushed harder, forcing herself to her limits, trying to revive him.

But he was not waking, and his injuries were not improving. He was still alive, but only by a thread, his life kept by her magic alone. Trixie stopped, and stared, panting in exertion. The clouds above them rumbled, and the rain slowly increased. They should find shelter.

She focused, and got Sweetie atop her back. Then she regarded the fallen Chosen.

“You’re not dying on Trixie.” she muttered. “Not after everything you did for her.” She grabbed onto him, and slowly dragged him. After a moment she stopped; he was too heavy like that.

Trixie stared at him for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry.” she said, and then used just enough magic to be able to carry Chosen. Then she left into the woods, hoping to find shelter. Even a tree’s canopy would do if she couldn’t find anything else.

She found the maticore’s cave soon. A den carved into an outcropping of rock. Bones littered it, and she only spent a second thinking before going inside. The owner was dead, and nothing would willingly enter a manticore’s den. It was dry and comfortable, and after she tossed the bones outside, not so macabre.

The manticore had left behind a bed of moss which she laid the filly and centaur atop of. Sweetie had a nasty cut on her hind leg, nearly severing her tendon. Chosen was…

The lightning had cauterized his wounds, and he had somehow avoided being fried. But the manticore venom was still in him, and he was very likely to be nearly unable to move or possible die from that. And Trixie had nothing to help with that.

She hated feeling helpless. And yet, she was. Chosen was near dead, the filly was hurt, and nothing she could do would help with anything.

“So, you lived.”

Trixie gasped, and turned to see Twilight standing at the entrance to the den.

“Both the aflasia, and now a manticore. You are a capable unicorn Trixie.”

Trixie stared before glancing away, grinding her teeth. It hurt to hear Twilight’s compliment; it only further reinforced the idea that earlier times truly were a lie. And she hadn’t done anything.

Chosen saved them from the aflasia. Chosen must have saved both her and the filly from the manticore. And what had Trixie done?

Nothing. Upsetting Chosen with her magic, getting them in danger just by living. She had even knocked herself out on a tree for Celestia’s sake! Sure, at the start it had been rough, but Chosen was much better now. She even sort of missed when he used to grab her horn.

She whipped her head back to glare at Twilight, a few tears in her eyes. “Trixie… Chosen saved Trixie! Both times!”

Twilight cocked her head. “Really? The centaur?”

“Yes!”

Twilight hesitated, and then smirked. “So, Trixie the worthless then? Trixie the incapable?”

“Stop it!”

Twilight giggled. “You really are stupid. I never imagined that the centaur would save your worthless hide. But he isn’t going to this time.”

Trixie paled, and Twilight stepped back, her horn lighting. She waited for Twilight to do something, but for a moment, nothing happened.

Then the cavern abruptly shut, sending the inside into total darkness. Trixie stared before jumping to the front and pushing. Whatever was there was too big, even for her magic, and she bashed into it with some desperation.

“Twilight! Twilight, there is a filly in here!” she screamed. She kept screaming until her voice was hoarse, already imagining slowly dying in the cave. Most likely from thirst, but possibly suffocation from how well Twilight had sealed the entrance.

She stood there for a moment before lighting her horn and making her way back to Chosen. She then collapsed on him, sobbing. She was blaming herself for what had and was happening. They were all going to die, and it was because of her. Twilight hated her, and Trixie knew why. And if she had only done something else, told Chosen, said something, then they wouldn’t be like this.

Doomed to die in a hole in the earth. Chosen suffered from the poison and the filly soon to wake and panic. Trixie sobbed, near to breaking apart.

And outside, Twilight stood smiling, drinking in the pain and suffering, every tear like nectar to her. They would slowly die over days, and their despair and pain was going to be very pleasurable. Then she nodded, and her form flowed and melted into that of a bird before taking flight into the woods. There was much to do, much to say, centaur to talk to, and ponies to trick.

It lived off of suffering, and was very well suited to guiding people to their destruction, but it wanted more. Nothing ever sated its hunger, but it knew a few things that helped.

Breaking someone. Pushing them past their limits, and smashing their will and body until they could barely live and didn't want to. It was why it existed. Agony, despair, sadness, all things it desired greatly, and loved to inflict. And the only thing better than one person broken apart was many.

Pain, Wise Words

Rush was standing outside the pen, staring inside. His mouth was set and his eyes glaring, watching the horses sleeping. It was very early, still nighttime in fact, but he was up when most were still asleep.

Rush had been happy that Chosen had returned, but something was wrong. First was that Chosen had greeted him as always, but hadn’t gone to see the horses.

He always went to see the horses. So, in Rush’s tiny mind, he suspected that Chosen must have become afraid of the horses for some reason.

Rush respected Chosen. He was only a few years younger, but Chosen was like an adult to Rush. And if he, Rush, was brave with the horses, maybe he could help Chosen become brave again.

He carefully open the gate and entered, taking care to step softly and slowly. He made his way to their sleeping forms and stood there, watching.

When they were asleep they were not scary. They seemed peaceful. Rush smiled and hesitated before slowly reaching out to one. He gently touched it, and when it didn’t move rubbed. The fur was soft and warm and he smiled.

One shifted and he jolted back, taking a few steps away before taking a deep breath. They hadn’t woken up. All three were…

He counted again, and noticed that the bird horse was missing. Then he heard a gentle sound behind him and he simply froze.

He trembled as he slowly turned to look behind him. He gave a soft gasp when he saw it. The bird horse was right behind him, its eyes half lidded as if it had just awoken.

He couldn’t make a sound, his heart thundering in his chest. Up close, it seemed even bigger, only a little smaller than he was.

The pair stared at each other for a moment, and then the bird horse’s eyes softened. Then she hummed, and Rush hesitated in his fear, listening. It was calming, almost as if the horse was trying to tell him that it was alright.

He swallowed and decided to try. He reached out, half expecting to get attacked. She tipped her head and continued to hum when he touched her, pressing her head into his hand.

Rush gave a gentle giggle, and the bird horse smiled at him.

He noticed motion, and turned to see Chosen entering the pen. But something was off. He almost looked… translucent.

“Chosen?” Rush asked, the bird horse turning to look.

Chosen saw him, and then stared. “It runs in the family.” he muttered. “Great.”

He glared, and rush backed up a little.

“Change of plans.” he said, and rushed the pair. They only had time to gasp, and suddenly found themselves elsewhere. Just on the outskirts of the Everfree, next to an apple orchard.

Rush was abruptly tossed into a deep pit, and yelled as he hit the ground. He looked up, to see Chosen glaring down at him. The pit was almost twenty feet deep.

“That was meant for something else, but you’ll do fine. Imagine, if you hadn’t been curious, you’d be safe.”

“You’re not Chosen!” he yelled. Chosen chuckled.

“I’m not. Sit tight; no one’s coming to save you.” He turned away, and Rush heard, “As for you…”

Then a snap. And a scream, followed by more snapping and worse screaming as Rush huddled in the pit and tried to block the sounds.

The screaming stopped, and turned into a pained sobbing. Rush heard a laugh, a dark laugh, enjoying the pain. It grew until it almost sounded mad, and then faded, whatever was making it leaving.

Rush was crying from what he had heard, the child shocked and horrified. He looked up, and tried to climb. The pit was too thin and he too weak for him to be able to. He kept trying until He couldn’t anymore, and just started screaming for help.

His cry went unheard.

I am happy. I walk in a field, a perfect field. Clouds hang in the sky and fog obscure my sight, but the place is bright and wonderful. I feel peaceful, more so than I ever have been.

I find a river, a wide river, flowing peacefully. I smile at it, and look past it to just barely see the far bank. That side looks even better, but before I can step in the water, I see another centaur on the far side.

“Chosen, no!” it calls, the voice somewhat desperate. “Stay there! Don’t touch the water!”

I hesitate, wondering. As I watch, the centaur paces back and forth before leaping into the water.

The river is calm, and not deep at all. I can see that easily. But the other centaur fights as if caught in rapids, as if the river was impossibly deep.

I stared in confusion until I notice her beginning to sink. I have to help!

I call the water, but it isn’t listening. The centaur is drowning, and the water isn’t listening to me. Teacher told me not to, but…

I demand it to listen, and force it to obey. A tide of water bring the centaur closer, and water angry at me, but I do not care. Another tug, and she is on my side of the river.

I hurry to her and help her up. “Are you alright?” I ask. She looks at me and tears appear in her eyes.

“Chosen.” she says, and I recognize the voice. I had heard her before, in the big stone building.

She hugs me, and I flinch, but… there is something familiar. So very familiar.

I hug her back, and my own tears threaten to come. I don’t know why.

We stay like that until she lets go and smiles at me through her tears.

“Let me see you.” she asks. She smiles a little more after a moment.

“You have grown so big and strong… Martuk must be so proud of you.”

“You know father? Who are you?” I ask.

“I do know him, I know him very well. My name is Fast Rabbit.”

“… How do I… I know you, in a way. Why?”

She sighs. “I wish I could tell you, but I cannot. You have a female relying on you.”

A female? Who is…? “Trixie!” I yell.

“Yes. She needs you, and you, her.”

The beast! The fight… I… this place…

“Where am I?” I ask in fear.

“This is called the far fields Chosen.”

“Then I…”

“Not yet. It is not your time Chosen. You need to return, and live. You need to save them. Feel it; you are alive, your heart still beats. Focus on that, remember your life.”

I nod and then do so. After a moment I do feel a heartbeat again. I feel things again, but I feel one thing more than anything else;

The break. It is within me, and I think it is keeping my heart beating. I pull away from it, and look back into the eyes of Fast Rabbit.

“I…”

“Let her help you.” she says, “The magic is nothing to be afraid of. She wants to help you. Go back to her Chosen.”

I trust her. I do not know why, but I trust her. Maybe even more than I trust father. I begin focusing again, and ignore the magic within me that time.

“Live Chosen!” I hear her say, her voice growing fainter, “Help them! Help them all!”

“And when you see your father again, tell him that his prey watches him still!”

The fog envelops me, and then darkness falls. A sudden pain grips me and I groan against it, shifting to try and reduce it. I hear a happy gasp.

“Chosen! Thank Celestia.”

“Chosen, don’t move too much. You are very hurt, and Trixie is not a healer. Keep breathing! It is very important!”

I manage to open one eye in my pain, and see Trixie, her horn alight. We are in a cave of some kind, and the white filly is nearby, happy. Both look… worn and dirty.

I close my eye again, and shudder. The pain is like fire in my veins, and a horrible pain in my chest. I can barely think.

“Rest Chosen. Trixie is not going to let you die! Come on…”

More magic comes to me, but it sooths the burn. The pain lessons. Maybe Fast was right; magic is nothing to be afraid of. So long as I know it is Trixie.

But she is incapable of truly healing me. The pain remains, just a little less. I need time to recover, and something is telling me that I do not have much time. I can do nothing but wait and hope.

Perspective, pony

Soft was not happy to be woken during the night by the creaking of the gate. She had been sleeping slightly apart from the others, and saw a tiny one enter the pen and creep toward them.

She got up and moved away, and then crept up behind it, wondering what it was doing.

It touched Good, and seemed happy. Soft wondered what it… he, was doing, and then froze when it did so.

She relaxed as he turned, and tried to appear nonthreatening. He trembled in obvious fear, and the terror in his eyes was easy to see.

He was no monster. He was just a scared child. Scared of her. What could she do? An idea came to her instantly. She hummed.

He calmed slowly as she kept humming, and when he reached a trembling hand out, she helped him to touch her and rub her head, smiling. After a moment he smiled back and giggled, like a foal would.

She saw him look past her and growl something. She turned and saw the other one, but something was wrong. She had never seen that expression on his face, the one of surprise.

And then he scowled, and she yelled when he charged the pair of them. Everything went white, and she grunted when she hit the earth.

In front of her, she saw the beings ahead of her, the smallest stunned. The other changed, grew larger and threw him down a deep pit.

A conversation seemed to occur, and then the other turned to look at her.

She was paralyzed from the sheer malice in those eyes. The hate it seemed to have.

“As for you…” it growled, stomping over.

“Wait!” she yelled, and tried to move. It moved faster, and caught a wing in its grasp.

She screamed when it snapped it like a dry twig. She screamed worse when it did the same to the next.

It tossed her, and then, one at a time, stamped on each leg. Soft screamed until she could scream no more, and sobbed, every limb limp and useless.

“I hate it. Hate you all. Anything else would have been fighting, but you ponies… you want to be friends, even after so much.” it growled. “And now it comes to this;”

“If I have to break you myself, I will do so. If I have to make you suffer as nothing has, I shall. If you won’t do it to yourselves, then I will be more than happy to take my satisfaction with my own hands.”

“You know, if he hadn’t seen me, then this wouldn’t have happened. I would only have taken the child, and thrown her into that pit to die slowly. The anguish of her parents and the child would have been enough. But not anymore.”

It grabbed her head and forced her to look into its eyes. “I’m not playing anymore. If you won’t play my games, then I will make you wish you had. I am going to burn everything you love to ashes around you, and when you find yourself empty inside, then I will grant you release. Only when you are completely broken.”

“Enjoy hearing the little one’s cries as it starves. I assure you, it is most pleasant to listen to.”

It dropped her again, Soft feeling caught in a living nightmare.

“And if you think your heroes will come to save you…”

It laughed, the worst laugh Soft had ever heard. It kept laughing, growing louder and more insane, until it finally left them, its laughter ringing in their ears.

Soft sobbed, both from the pain and fear. The pain was indescribable, but the fear was worse.

Whatever that monster was, it was only just beginning. It had promised to make her suffer more, and she didn’t doubt that. Not at all.

She heard the other one crying in the pit, screaming out. The meaning of those cries wasn’t hard to guess. And she was going to have the pleasure of listening to a child dying from hunger. She sobbed, her limbs useless, every one. She cried, lacking the strength to do anything else.

And it devoured the pain and despair without end. Smiling at her from the distance. The hunger was bad in Equestria, and it had become desperate. It would never have harmed something itself normally. But Equestria was too peaceful, and the centaur too cautious.

They were not attacking each other, and starving it. It needed more to survive. Trixie had reached her end, as had Sweetie. Chosen was a hard one to take despair from, even when he had been stabbed by the manticore. So it would return to the pair.

Plucking Soft’s wings sounded like a good start. So was positioning her to look into the pit and watch Rush decay.

There was too much for it to do for now, but it would return. It promised itself that.

Vision and Renewal

I see them burn.

I see everyone and everything dead or dying.

I see a monster, a black thing with red eyes laughing as it rises above them, above me.

It did this.

I saw it do it. Every step of the way.

Wearing my face, it walked amongst the tribe unseen and trusted.

Rush confronted it, and it tossed him away. Teacher saw through it and it killed him. It tossed my face away and walked a monster and killed every last centaur.

It did so slowly, eating the pain and misery of them as they perished slowly, their blood staining the grass, the fires turning the sky a dark red and black.

And it grew in power until it stood like a god.

And yet; it suffered. I could see the pain of hunger that ravaged it, and it turned from my dead tribe.

I saw it strike out at the horses. Doing much the same to them, even the unicorns.

I saw six horses rise to defeat it, and one of them smiled and revealed itself to be the monster.

They all fell, and despair came, feeding the monster.

Everything died. Everything burned.

Even the sun and moon were sliced from the sky until nothing was left. The monster raised itself up in power and victory, but nothing was left.

I saw the beast realize that, and it cried out in despair of its own. I saw it waste away on a barren rock.

I saw it suffer and die.

And nothing was left.

I stand amidst a barren place with a dark wind disturbing the bones of life around me.

I have seen the same thing several times. Slightly different each time. The ends are the same, and the message is clear:

Nothing I nor anything anyone else can do can stop this from happening.

I cry out, yelling my defiance of this future. I don’t want to see this come to pass.

But there doesn’t seem a way to stop it.

There is one way.

A voice, echoing across the wastes I stand in. Several voices, speaking at the same time in the same way, with only tiny differences.

Just one way, and you Chosen, are the only one who can do this.

“Who are you?” I call out, looking around me. Nothing but dark grey dust and rocks is near me.

Listen, and know.

The barren gives way to water, I feel a breeze, I see and stand upon a land and see a fire spring up in front of me and warm me. I know what the voices are.

“The vision you give offers no solution.” I say, staring at the small fire.

In our nature, there is no solution.

“Then what,”

Listen and be silent.

I do so.

The monster is outside us. A creature of the break and no else. The break can’t stop it, and we cannot touch it.

But there is one way to end its rampage before it is too late.

We were all that was. We made our rules and determined the way. One way, one rule, and no deviations. No life can be found in rock and fire and water and air.

The break came, and in its change, life came to us. It bent and broke our rules, and made us adapt to its demands.

The break is destructive. But in that destruction, new, greater things are born.

We are broken from long ago. And yet, we still stand.

It is time to change that. It is time for our long fight to end.

You have break within you. You also have us within you. Separate. Apart.

Join us to the break. Make us one, and in that union, find something that transcends both. Find a way to make us the magic.

And then wield us, and strike the beast low. Deny its future, and climb to the future that you are destined for.

“But… how can I? I can’t use the break.”

It is simple. Take more of it, until the bonds break from the pressure.

“… That sounds dangerous…”

You may die. Your body will break and your life will be in danger from this act.

But if it is possible, we will save you. If you live, we will remake you.

It is the only way.

I nod. I am uncertain, but I must try. I will listen, and do what the elements ask of me.

Anything to prevent the vision from coming to pass.

Darkness surrounds me, and I wake again to my pain and helplessness.

I feel Trixie trying to heal me once more, and open an eye to see her focusing, struggling, her horn alight as light flows from it into me.

She sees me awake and smiles as she works. I find the strength to speak.

“Trixie…”

“Trixie is right here Chosen.” she says, stopping her work. “Everything is fine.”

“I need… you to… give me… break…”

“… Chosen?”

“More break… I need… more of it…”

Trixie is uncertain, but nods. Her horn lights, and a very different feeling comes to me.

At first, it is a numbness as it enters me. And then it hurts. It stings and burns, and I gasp, Trixie stopping instantly.

“Chosen!?” she yelps, leaning close to me. “What… that was bad. Trixie won’t do that again.”

“You… you must.” I manage to say, gasping. The pain was gone the moment she stopped, but it had hurt badly.

“No.”

“Trixie…”

“Trixie is not,”

“Look at me.” I say, staring at her. She does so, and we stare at each other.

“I... need this… Trixie… no matter… how… bad it is.”

She keeps staring at me, but I am certain. There is no other path, and no pain will make me stop. Her eyes are uncertain, unwilling to harm me and great concern for me flicking in them.

She finally looks away and hisses.

“Fine. Trixie…”

“I am going to do my very best, and you are going to do your best to do whatever it is you need to.”

She leans close to me. “Promise me that you won’t die from this.”

“I… if… I have a choice… I won’t…”

She shuts her eyes tightly again. “If you die… I am never going to forgive you.”

I smile. With everything I have, I manage to reach up and touch her head before my arm falls limp again.

“Do it…”

She shuts her eyes again, and after a moment her horn lights once more. The break comes to me once more.

I am not sure what the bonds I need broken are. But the break is like I am being torn apart from within. It is a very bad pain, and grows and spreads through me as Trixie keeps giving me more.

After a moment, I feel the bonds. Strong parts of me that resist the pain. They need to be broken, but the rest of me has no resistance. I can barely hold my voice so that Trixie won’t be scared or upset.

Much more is needed to break them.

“Don’t stop.” I say quickly, wincing and tensing from the pain. “Never stop.”

Trixie mutters to herself. If she replied, I am in no condition to hear it.

More break. More pain. More and more break, more and more pain until it is the worst I have felt.

Then a bond snaps, and the pain lessons for a moment before a new fire starts where the bond used to be. I can’t help but to gasp and hiss at it.

I see Trixie waver and see a few tears force themselves from her eyes. “More.” I manage. “More.”

Another one gives, leaving four to go. The pain worsens, the first burning hotter. I am panting in agony, my vision blurred and my senses foggy; but I need more.

The third gives way, and I groan and shake. I think the bonds in me are part of my life somehow; destroying them is destroying me.

But I must endure.

The fourth snaps, and I bite back a scream from the pain of it.

The fifth makes my heart flicker. I feel it snap at my life, and I am much weaker suddenly. I cannot hold my scream back.

Trixie stops, and screams something I cannot hear, but it is too late to stop.

The last bond is worn away by the break that is already there. In a moment, it is gone as Trixie shakes me in panic.

I cannot feel her.

I think my heart has stopped. My vision is fading swiftly, what little strength I had leaking from me. I see the fog of elsewhere coming for me.

My body is broken. I am dying and maybe dead.

Something changes. The darkness falls, but not in the way I expected it to…

I… I can feel everything. I can feel the strength of the earth under me, and the shape of the cave and the dirt under the forest. I can feel the water that flows under the rocks and over the land in rivers seen and unseen. I can feel the breeze and the air as it swirls around the trees and bushes and land. I can feel a burning fire deep under the earth, and know that that flame will never be extinguished.

In a strange way, I see all of it. My vision expands outwards.

The cave, Trixie, shaking me desperately, the little unicorn awake and trying to help her. The forest, stretching far and the creatures that live within the trees my sight slowly expanding to see all of it.

I see the tribe for an instant before the land as a whole comes to my gaze. I see it well for a moment before my sight keeps growing.

It continues, oceans I have never seen coming into view, strange things seen for an instant before they become too small, until I finally see a tiny orb of colors in a sea of black and stars.

Am I seeing the world? Is this what a world looks like?

I am not sure…

My vision swoops back, rushing down from high above. It is terrifying in its speed; as if I am ripped down from the sky. It reaches a mountain, and my sight flies around a castle, and through a human town made of stone, moving faster than an arrow.

Down the mountain’s cliffs, and racing across a field so fast that everything blurs. A moment’s hesitation, and I see a blue bird horse with a colorful mane walking next to a normal horse wearing a hat. They seem to shine, but before I can see much more, my sight rushes away.

Through a wall, and see a white unicorn, weeping and shining with light. Across a town in an instant to find a yellow bird horse, also filled with light, calling out. A twirl to spot a pink horse that seems everywhere at once; popping from alleys and seemingly appearing in new places at will. She shines colors for some reason.

Another yank draws me to see a purple winged unicorn. She shines brighter than the rest, and I stare at her. then I notice:

She is staring at me. Her gaze follows me, but when she moves, my sight is rushed away again.

I see the tree for an instant before I am in the forest, everything a green blur. My sight slows, and I see the break over everything, growing thinker as I continue moving.

Large cracks, but filled with something like spider threads. Holding things together.

The cracks keep getting bigger, and the strings thicker as I am moved until both are gone, and I am in a pit where nothing grows. A cave looms ahead, and I am drawn within to see a giant tree that shines. That is not wood it is made of.

I stop right in front of it.

I can sense… something. The tree… it is the source of the threads. It is separate from the elements all around me.

It is alive in a strange way. I think… I think it is thinking. Watching me.

Judging me.

Accepted. rings out, like a voice made of bells. Be made whole.

I gasp, my sight instantly blackening. I feel myself, helpless and unable to act.

Then a thump. A gentle thump.

My heart.

It beats once more. I feel the life flowing from it to fill the rest of me, renewing me. I feel the poison chased down and destroyed. I feel my flesh knitted back together.

I feel the elements nestle within me, the break next to them. I feel strings wrap around them and tighten before leaving.

Something new is left behind. Part break, and part elements. Two things made one by the strings.

Something old made something new.

My body remade. My life reignited.

I live again.

Perspective, pony

Two days.

Two days since Sweetie was last seen. Two days since she walked away from the clubhouse and followed after Rarity.

And Rarity was absolutely sure that she had never been there that day.

Her little sister missing. Taken by something that looked just like her.

For what end?

Nopony knew. The bearers and most of the town were trying to find her, find anything that suggested where she had been taken.

Nothing. Not even hoofprints. Not one white hair, not one clue.

Rarity was alternating between inconsolable sobbing and desperate searching. The others were growing tense in their search.

Every hour past was another hour of Sweetie possibly being in grave danger.

Twilight was exhausted, having used her every effort to try and track her. Whatever had taken her was no mere changeling:

Changelings left something behind. They could be tracked and found with the proper spells.

What took Sweetie was outright invisible to everything Twilight could do. And that was worse;

They didn’t know what it intended.

Applejack and Rainbow were going to go to the farm’s farthest reaches in one last attempt, and everypony else was searching in the town. To guarantee that the shifter wasn’t hiding where they least expected it to.

Twilight was exhausted after two days of not resting. That was why, when she sensed herself being stared at, she did nothing at first.

But she eventually looked, and paused. Nothing was there, but…

A presence floated near her. A mind. Invisible, but present. Staring at her. She stared at where she suspected it was, following it as it drifted.

She acted to see it, but then it was gone, darting away, and left her puzzled and curious.

What was that? Did it have anything to do with the shifter?

No matter. It was gone, and she had work to do. Lots of work to do.

Trixie was a storm of emotion.

When Chosen woke, he had been troubled and in pain each time. Except for the last time.

She was trying to heal him again, unable to find rest, when he woke again.

“Trixie…” he murmured, his voice weak.

“Trixie is right here Chosen.” she said, stopping her useless work. It wasn’t helping anymore. “Everything is fine.” she said, both for him and herself.

“I need… you to… give me… break.” he said.

What? Give him…

“…Chosen?” she asked, unsure if she had heard right.

“More break… I need… more of it…”

She nodded slowly. Maybe Chosen felt better with her magic? Maybe it was helping in some way she couldn’t see? She nodded, and did her best to try again, putting as much magic as she could into it.

For a moment, nothing. And then a pained look passed over Chosen’s face and he gasped. She stopped instantly.

“Chosen!?” she yelled. Had she hurt him somehow!? “What…” she shook her head, “That was bad. Trixie won’t do that again.”

“You… you must.”

“No.” Trixie stated.

“Trixie…”

“Trixie is not,”

“Look at me.” He said, and she paused before doing so, looking into his eyes.

A burning determination was in them. A deep need, a dark fear. But the will to see something done, no matter the cost.

“I... need this… Trixie… no matter… how… bad it is.”

Trixie kept staring at him, trying to resist. She didn’t want to hurt him. Didn’t want to see him hurt or in pain, or so helpless. And yet, he was hurt, and demanding that she hurt him more…

His eyes were too strong. She looked away, cursing herself for not being stronger.

“Fine. Trixie…”

No. Not Trixie. This was too important.

“I am going to do my very best, and you are going to do your best to do whatever it is you need to.” she stated, looking back into his eyes.

She leaned closer, and whispered, “Promise me that you won’t die from this.”

“I… If… I have a choice… I won’t…”

She shut her eyes. “If you die… I am never going to forgive you.”

He smiled. With great effort, his hand came up and touched her head before falling away. Her eyes opened in surprise.

“Do it…”

She shut her eyes again, unwilling to watch. She forced herself to act, moved her magic, and sent it to him.

She heard his breathing change. Knew that he was hurting.

“Don’t stop.” he said swiftly, hiding the pain in his voice. “Never stop.”

She kept going, hearing his breathing slowly quicken. Then he gasped and hissed, and she wavered in her try.

“More. More.” Chosen said, and she forced herself to keep going, beginning to cry. The pain him was in was obvious now; he was growing weaker with each moment.

He began panting soon. And then he groaned, but Trixie kept pushing, her tears flowing freely. Chosen must know what he is doing. He had to know that this would help. That it wasn’t as bad as it sounded it was.

She wasn’t killing him…

Please. Don’t let this kill him.

He suddenly screamed, and Trixie stopped instantly; the scream too filled with agony and… and death.

She saw him, pale and shivering. She screamed, “Chosen!” just in time to see his eyes widen and then he stopped breathing.

She grabbed him, and froze.

No heartbeat.

She shook him in near despair. Trying to wake him, make him respond.

He didn’t.

She stared at him in shock, Sweetie waking and becoming confused.

He… he was gone.

The only thing that was still by her side was gone.

No place to turn to.

No being, pony or otherwise, to rely upon.

Nothing to keep her going.

“Chosen?” Sweetie said, coming over, worried. She looked at Trixie. “Trixie, is…”

She trailed off at the expression on Trixie. The look of somepony who had simply… given up. The look of somepony who simply willed themselves to… stop.

But before Trixie could truly give up, Chosen gasped.

He tensed, and glowed in her hooves, and the pair gaped.

His wound burst open, but no blood came out, and the skin and flesh kitted itself together again until not a trace was left of the injury.

Holding him, Trixie could feel magic filling him. A different magic from her own, but magic. Strength, filling him.

Life, filling him.

He was alive. Renewed. Chosen’s plan, whatever it had been, had worked.

Trixie might never have been happier, her earlier sorrow and despair washed away in a tide of relief and joy though their pain lingered.

“Chosen.” she said, staring at his face.

He shifted, and his face looked at her. He smiled and whispered, “I did it Trixie…”

Then he opened his eyes.

They shined a pure white.

Suffering, Fighting, and Recovery

Soft bit back a scream. She was doing very well, considering.

Reach, and suffer the pain of her broken bones moving. Grip the ground ahead of her. Brace, and take a deep breath.

Pull herself forward a few inches, suffering absolute agony with every twitch forward. Don’t scream…

She stopped, panting. A day and night before she was trying to find help. Defying her pain to try and get somepony, anypony to help. She… She couldn’t face it again.

The monster had come back. With three sharpened stakes, fairly long.

It had tossed one into the pit, and she had heard the little centaur scream.

The other two had been stabbed into her wings and then stomped into the ground. It had laughed and promised that worse was to come before leaving them once more.

One stake was still there, stuck in her left wing. She had ripped herself free with all she had, and began moving.

The little centaur had stopped screaming some time ago. She wasn’t sure why.

But she did know one thing:

If the monster came back, and did anything else, then she and the little one was not going to survive.

She looked to see how far she had gotten, staring to move a few hours after the sun had risen. It was currently setting.

She guessed that she had made it maybe a hundred feet.

She froze and began shaking at a quiet chuckle from in front of her while she was gazing back.

She looked back, and saw the monster. It always looked like a centaur, but it wasn’t.

She was sure of that.

It seemed amused.

“Such determination…” it said, smiling at her terror. “To move with everything broken like that…”

“I see that I need to do better.”

“Please.” she begged, watching it move behind her. She heard it pause, and her hope rose.

“… Please what?”

“Please stop. Please… let us go…”

“…Say it better.”

“Pretty please? Please, I beg you…”

“…What can you offer me?”

“Anything. Everything. Just… no more pain…”

She heard it hum. “Well…”

“Please.”

There was a long moment. She waited and waited until she could stand it no longer, and looked.

It smirked at her, and grabbed her hind leg the moment she did so, wrenching it.

It dragged her back, screaming the entire way, while it whistled a tune. And then with a simple effort, tossed her into the pit where she was scratched badly by the stake down there and landed heavily.

She could barely breathe from the pain. She saw the little centaur, one leg pierced by the spike, pinning him. He saw her and, struggling, moved so that he could grab onto her. Trying to find some comfort in the broken pegasus.

The thing looked down and saw them. It smirked, enjoying the agony of Soft and noting the refreshment of Rush.

That wouldn’t last long. He would draw some comfort from her, but Soft was slowly perishing from her wounds. He would realize that fairly soon, then, despair, just like the first time.

It was good. It made it feel much better, gave it power.

Everything was perfect. Nothing knew of it, and everything that did was well taken care of. And even if they did, by some miracle, find out about it…

This place was filled with magic. It would be easy to kill them all.

It paused. Voices. Coming closer.

Out here? At the edges of the farm? It must be some overeager searcher for Sweetie. Nopony was going to come out here otherwise.

It saw Rainbow and Applejack wandering nearby. They would find the pit; the blood trail of Soft would make it easy. Even if it cleaned, the pit was obvious, and there was no time to hide it.

But… maybe…

Yes… that might work…

It normally didn’t like such… direct tactics, but everything had a time and place. And this place demanded many strange tactics.

Rainbow paused as she walked, making Applejack look back.

“Rainbow?”

“I smell something.” Rainbow said, looking around. She soon spotted the blood and gasped, heading to it. Applejack did the same, and they both followed it to the pit.

They stared at it wide eyed, and approached slowly. Dreading what they might find.

They peered within, and gasped again, seeing the bloody sight below. The little centaur turned to look up at them, an unspoken request on his bloody face.

“Rainbow,” Applejack said, a bit pale.

“Darn it.”

They both started and turned to see Rainbow glaring at them.

“You spoiled the surprise.” she said, her voice a perfect match for Rainbow’s own.

They both tensed and Rainbow stepped forward, her wings spread and ready for a fight.

“What are you!?” she demanded, angry with its imitation.

“I’m a pegasus!” it yelled back.

Applejack came next to Rainbow, if anything, angrier than the pegasus. The centaur was a child, and it was very possible that the thing in front of them had done such things.

“Yer a changeling.” Applejack said, growling a little.

It stopped, and looked stunned.

“What..? No… no my… my voice…”

It trailed off, gagging a little. The pair hesitated for a moment; for some reason, it seemed to have been made mute. It rasped and seemed to be trying to speak, but no intelligible sound came out.

Then it stopped, glared once more, and jumped at them, Rainbow doing the same.

It was a little difficult to tell them apart as the two Rainbow’s wrestled, but Applejack knew.

The pony who didn’t speak was the monster.

“Rainbow!” she yelled, readying herself.

The one on top rasped, and the one below said, “Get it Applejack!”

She did so, striking the top one with everything she had and throwing it to collide with an apple tree with a large thud and slump against its base. The pair of them stared at it for a moment.

It lived, but wasn’t currently conscious. They could see it breathing still.

Rainbow got to her hooves and smirked. “Ha! Easy.” she said.

“We need ta go an get th others ta help.” Applejack said, going back to look down into the pit.

“We’re gonna find help! Jus hang on down there!”

“I’ll find help.”

“Rainbow?”

“Keep an eye on the changeling, and don’t let it get away. I can fly faster than you can run; I can get Twilight and the others in no time.”

“…Alright Rainbow. Yer not normally so… calm bout these thins.”

“We need to get help fast, and I did just get to beat up the changeling who did it. So I’m feeling better.”

Applejack nodded; that did make some sense, and Rainbow took to the air.

“Tie it to the tree or something, and keep an eye on it!”

“I will, jus hurry up!”

Rainbow shot off in a rainbow streak and Applejack sighed.

Sweetie was still missing, but they had found another pony, and a centaur. What that meant, she wasn’t sure.

She got out a rope and tied the still unconscious thing to the tree. It was a near perfect match for Rainbow, but she steeled herself. It was not her friend. It just looked and sounded like her.

She made the rope extra tight, just in case. And maybe a little more viciously than she should have.

It deserved a little pain for what it did.

“I did it Trixie.” I say, opening my eyes and seeing her. She seemed stunned for a moment as I got to my hooves, feeling as if I had slept for days.

Like I had worked hard, and then rested, and now, I was renewed. That kind of feeling.

The good kind.

The moment I thought about the wind, a faint breeze swirled around us, and Trixie yelped, surprised.

I no longer have to call?

Maybe that is what they meant to do. To give themselves to me in some tiny portion. In some way, it is as if I have a tiny bit of them inside of me, always next to me, ready to respond. That makes many things, a great many things, far easier for me to do.

I am thankful to them for their sacrifice. I feel the elements around me give their approval.

I look to the exit, and focus. With a groan, the earth shifts just a little, but I have to use more. I press my hands against it and heave in both ways. It shifts, by another small margin, but it stops there. I don’t have the strength to do it.

And then I find Trixie next to me, her horn alight and pushing with me.

The stone shifts again, and keeps moving that time as together, we push.

And with a sudden motion, the rock is free, and sunlight streams down on us, along with some dirt and small rocks. The rock rolls away, and we step out into the grass, the little unicorn rushing past us to look around in joy.

“We’re out.” Trixie says, as if she is in disbelief.

“We… Chosen, you did it!” she yells, grabbing onto my side. I smile.

“We did it Trixie.” I say, rubbing at her head.

She lets go and looks around. She scans the nearest surrounds and spots a particular bush.

“Sweetie, that bush is edible!” she says, going to it herself and using her magic to pluck it nearly bare.

I am refreshed, but they are not. I should have thought of that. They would be hungry and thirsty after the cave.

I go to the pair, and with a little effort make a bowl of one of the leaves. With a little thought, I fill it with a little water, and give it to the filly who tries to eat it in one bite.

“Easy.” I tell her, moving my hand away. “There is more.”

I have a sudden thought as Trixie opens her mouth. I look at her, and point.

With a thought, a stream of water enters her mouth and she chokes a little on it.

I laugh as she shakes her head and seems undecided whether or not to yell at me. She settles for huffing.

“Chosen!” she huffs. “Gentle.”

I nod, and begin making more leaf bowls for them. That continues until both are full, the… Trixie called it Sweetie? Sweetie is happy and Trixie relaxing in the sunlight. I notice that Sweetie’s hind leg has a wound on it. It looks dirty and poorly cared for, but considering, that is not unexpected.

I stroke her mane, getting her comfortable, and then gently shift her so I can see better. She shifts back, staring at me. She seems worried, a little bit in pain... is that a blush?

“Let me see.” I whisper to her.

“Sweetie, Chosen wants to help your leg.”

The little unicorn whinnies softly.

Trixie blinks, confused. “He isn’t growling at you, he said ‘let me see’.”

More whinnies and I am confused now.

“You understand her?” I ask Trixie.

“Or course Trixie understands her! Trixie doesn’t know what’s wrong with you two! You speak, she speaks, and neither understand, and yet, Trixie does!?”

I frown and look at Sweetie, thinking.

“If you understand, nod.” I say.

She stares at me and whinnies gently again, confused and concerned.

Trixie stares for a moment before thinking. I am thinking.

“Maybe it is something special about you?” I say, at the same time as Trixie says, “Maybe it is something special about Trixie.”

We look at each other and I find it funny. She doesn’t, but she does smile at my chuckle. She seems thoughtful for some reason.

“Help me. Her wound needs to be cleaned and cared for, or it might grow sick.” I tell Trixie.

“Sweetie, let him see. He can help, Trixie promises.” she says, going over to Sweetie and laying nearby.

Sweetie still looks unsure, but when I shift her, she grabs onto Trixie, and allows me to see.

I wince a little. It is bad. Almost crippling. Teacher can do this better, but I can at least make it better. She won’t like my cleaning it though; it is in a delicate area.

“This might hurt.” I say.

“It’s not going to be nice, just hold still Sweetie. Grip Trixie’s hoof.”

When I touch it, she flinches, tensing. I have to do this well.

A little bit of thought, and a touch of water comes from my hand to begin washing the dirt away. She tenses again, but slowly relaxes as she grows used to the feel.

Then I begin rubbing and carefully scraping at it, and she flinches badly. She holds fairly still for me, but Trixie gasps at the sudden increase in her grip, her eyes closed tight.

When in doubt, remove everything teacher taught me. Even the shell of blood if you are not sure; sickness can happen easily, and the wound must be clean.

I really wish I had teacher’s trick to put things to sleep. Best to do this in one motion I think.

I firmly grasp her leg, and shift to pin her lower half. Her breathing increases at that.

One… easy…

I swipe, and for a second, see a clean leg wound that is suddenly bleeding again.

Then I am in great pain from the horrible sound Sweetie makes.

It is worse than any scream. Her sound pierces the head like tiny spears. Like a newborn, but so much louder and somehow worse.

I act fast, and with a bit of heat and life, the wound seals again, Sweetie stopping the piercing sound and sobbing. I use a little more, just to try and ease her pain, and then get off of her, my head ringing.

Trixie pats at Sweetie as the filly grips onto her, crying a little, but slowing.

“You did very good Sweetie.” Trixie says. Then looks at me with a ‘did you have to’ look about her.

I nod, and get to my hooves. After a moment, they do the same, Sweetie sniffling a little. She shifts her leg a little and cheers up when she feels no real pain from it. So long as she doesn’t strain it, she might be able to walk normally now.

She whinnies something, and I look to Trixie. Trixie sighs.

“She said ‘thank you Mr. Chosen.’ How am Trixie is the only pony who can understand?”

“Because you are unique.” I tell her. She stares at me, and that is definitely a blush. I smile for a moment, and then look around thinking. This isn’t any good. All the trees are the same. Which way leads to home?

Trixie shakes her head to dispel her stun. “We need to get Sweetie back.” She tells me.

“Which way?” I ask, unable to determine direction in the forest.

Trixie looks around for a moment. “…That way.” she says with certainty, pointing.

Sweetie whinnies something and she shifts her hoof to the right.

…Well, a direction is a direction. The woods can’t go on forever. I head that way, and soon after, Trixie is by my side, Sweetie hovering close to her.

Perspective, pony

Chosen got to his hooves, Trixie and Sweetie too stunned by the sight of his eyes to do or say anything.

A faint breeze suddenly blew in the cave, and Trixie yelped, stunned. Where had that come from?

Chosen’s eyes slowly turned back to normal, and they both started when they heard the rock groan. Chosen frowned, and then pushed at it, and they heard it groan a little more. Trixie saw it shift, but then it seemed to stick as Chosen heaved.

Trixie hurried to his side, and heaved with him, using her magic and strength to try and help. Chosen looks down in surprise, and then pushes harder.

And together, they push the rock free form the cavern’s entrance, a small shower of dirt and small rocks raining down on the pair.

They stepped out, Sweetie hurrying past them to stand in the grass and see the sun after two days stuck in the cave.

“We’re out.” Trixie said, stunned. “We…”

“Chosen you did it!” she yelled, grabbing onto him. She felt… happy, and felt happier when he rubbed at her head.

“We did it Trixie.” he said.

Trixie’s stomach growled at her and she got off of him, and looked around. She and Sweetie hadn’t eaten for some time, and they really needed to find something.

She saw a bush that she suspected was edible, and went to it, calling, “Sweetie, that bush is edible!” as she went. A little magic, and the leaves were off and stacked in a neat pile. Trixie nodded. Water was next, but food first.

They both start eating, the leaves… tolerable especially in their hunger. Then Chosen heads over, and sits next to them, and take a leaf.

With a little motion, he make a dip in it, and placing his hand over it, it fills with a little water. Trixie was honestly stunned. Creation of even simple things like water was beyond most any kind of magic.

Chosen gave it Sweetie, who, failing to see any other way to keep the water inside, tried to get it in her mouth all at once. Chosen pulled his hand away as she succeeded.

“Easy. There is more.” he said.

Trixie opened her mouth to say something, and Chosen shot a stream of water into it, making her gag a little on it. He laughed, and she was caught between relief at the refreshment or outrage that he chose to do so that way.

She frowned faintly and huffed. “Chosen! Gentle.”

He nodded, and worked to make more of the leaf bowls. The bush filled them both, and Chosen’s water did much to help them feel much better after their imprisonment.

Then Chosen, looking at Sweetie, strokes her mane. She relaxed under his hand, and then he carefully pulled her so that she sat up, allowing him to see her injury. And other things.

She shifted back, wondering what he was doing, the motion making her leg hurt, and blushing a little.

“Let me see.” He whispered, but Sweetie only heard him growl and shrunk back slightly. Trixie noticed, and misread her fear.

“Sweetie, Chosen wants to help your leg.”

“Then why is he growling?” she asked, still staring at him.

“He isn’t growling at you.” Trixie said, confused. “He said, ‘let me see’.”

“But he did growl, and I don’t want him to see.”

“You understand her?” Chosen asked Trixie. Trixie felt put upon. Why were they pretending not to understand each other?

“Or course Trixie understands her! Trixie doesn’t know what’s wrong with you two! You speak, she speaks, and neither understand, and yet, Trixie does!?”

Chosen frowned and looked at Sweetie again. “If you understand me, nod.” he said, watching.

“Can you speak?” Sweetie asked after a moment of uncertainty.

Trixie watched and then thought for a moment, as did Chosen.

“Maybe it is something special about Trixie?” she suggested, at the same time Chosen said, “Maybe it is something special about you?”

They both stopped and Chosen chuckled at the coincidence, Trixie smiling a little at his amusement.

He was handsome when he smiled. She never really noticed before.

“Help me. Her wound needs to be cleaned and cared for, or it might grow sick.” Chosen said.

Trixie went to Sweetie, already knowing that the filly wasn’t going to appreciate that. But it was for her good.

“Sweetie, let him see. He can help, Trixie promises.”

“…O.K.” she whispered. When Chosen shifted her so that she was lying back on Trixie, she let him move her. He winced.

“This might hurt.” he said.

“It’s not going to be nice, just hold still Sweetie. Grip Trixie’s hoof.” Trixie said, Sweetie grabbing on and holding tight.

At his touch, she flinched and tensed, waiting for pain. Then she gasped faintly as warm water washed over it, gently cleaning away the dirt. It felt weird, but it didn’t hurt.

The he starts rubbing and she flinches, trying to hold still, grabbing onto Trixie as tightly as she could, making the mare gasp a little at the pressure.

Then Chosen shifts, pinning her lower half and holding her leg tightly. She tensed badly, and her breathing increased in fear. One hand was carefully places at the top of her belly, and she closed her eyes.

And with a sudden swipe, it burned like nothing else.

Sweetie screamed and Trixie yelled, completely drowned out as she screamed from the pain of it.

Her pain swiftly reduced, and she began sobbing, the pain lessoning with every second, but it was so very bad when it started.

Then Chosen get up, a bit disoriented from her scream. Sweetie shifting to hold onto Trixie, still crying, but slowing. Her leg was feeling better.

“You did very good Sweetie.” Trixie said, a touch stunned herself. She looked at Chosen, and he saw the question on her face.

He nodded and got to his hooves. Trixie did the same, and helped Sweetie up. She was sniffling, but as she moved her hind leg, she noticed that it didn’t hurt. It felt a bit restrained when she tried to move it far, but it didn’t hurt anymore. She cheered up at that, even managing to smile despite her tears.

Then she looked at Chosen.

“Thank you Mr. Chosen.” she said.

Trixie sighed. “She said, ‘Thank you Mr. Chosen.’ How is Trixie the only pony who can understand?”

“Because you are unique.” Chosen said with perfect seriousness. Trixie stares at him, stunned.

And seeing him tall, and healthy, and smiling down at her…

She blushed.

Maybe… was she… was he…

She shook her head. Now was not the time for that.

“We need to get Sweetie back to her home.” she said.

“Which way?” Chosen asked, looking around.

Trixie did the same. Everything looked the same to her.

“…That way.” she chose mostly because it looked nice.

“That way is the castle.” Sweetie said, and Trixie noticed the spires of the old ruin visible over the tree tops. Without a word, she shifted her outstretched hoof by a few feet.

Chosen blinked and then shrugged before heading that way. Trixie went after him, walking close to him, Sweetie close to her.

After a moment Trixie noticed her tail flicking to touch at him and forced herself to stop that.

Escape, learning, concerns and happiness

I run.

I run fast and hard, racing through the burning encampment, the smoke choking me and the hot air burning my throat and lungs. I run to find my father, fighting somewhere in the smoke and fire. Dead warriors are nearby, and I can see the invaders now and then, destroying everything they can touch.

My hooves skid as I turn a corner and spot him. My father, fighting the invaders with spear and hoof. Behind him was the stone building, and the door had collapsed, which was why I was out here.

I need to bring him to the escape, and save him, and me.

I focus, and try my best, and a wave of air rushes from me to brush his enemies away.

“Father! Quickly!” I yell, and he turns and runs after me as I return along the path I took. He soon draws level with me, and seizes me and carries me, his legs far stronger than mine.

“I told you to be safe!” his rough voice yells as he runs, one hand holding his spear yet and his hooves pounding the dirt.

“I will not leave you!” I tell him. He merely grunts in response, and we go into the stone building. Everyone was gone, and the portal flickered, weak and fading.

I feel him focus, and he leaps, pushing us through the air to pass through the portal just before it collapses.

We pass to the other side, and I smell clean air and bright light shines down on us. It is jarring, to have gone from smoke and fire and death the peace so suddenly. The surviving tribe is around us, and my father sets me down and stands tall, nearly a foot taller than the tallest warrior.

“Where does the enemy lie!? What is needed here!?” he asks the nearest, Strong Arm and Eagle’s Eye. Two of the better warriors sent to protect the women and children.

“Nothing my chieftain.” Strong arm says. “The land is field, and there is nothing that threatens us.”

“Go and be sure of it.”

They bow and do so, racing off and leaving us. I look around, and note that most of the tribe is better than I feared. Few injuries, and more warriors have survived than I thought would.

My father begins to take charge, ordering our scattered tribe, and I go to find my teacher. He is our shaman, old and revered. Wise in his years, but infirm in his age. He will help to settle my energy. My heart still pounds from the rush of before, and he will help calm it.

I find him soon, helping to heal the injured. He rubs herbs into the cuts, and then washes with water before bandaging it with raw hide stretched thin. A few blessings, and the tribesman he helped moves away to help the others.

“Teacher.” I call.

He looks over, and a mostly toothless grin is offered. “Chosen.” he says, his voice creaking and raspy, “You have done well. You have saved your father, and kept you and him from any true injury. Truly, you are growing into a fine warrior.”

“Thank you teacher.” He is good. I did not even have to tell him, and already I feel better. “But where are we? The stones did not say where they led to. What land is this?”

“That, even I am not sure. This place is very distant from anyplace I have been.” I am impressed. Teacher has been everywhere in his youth. If this place is far, then it is very, very far. “Though here, the elements listen more. You will benefit from this place well I think.”

“To your wisdom, teacher.”

“Hmph. Go back to Martuk, go back to your father. He will need you to remind him that there is no enemy here and that he can relax.”

“I shall!” I say as I turn and head away.

From disaster and death to peace in only a day. It almost seems strange, that we could go from fire and smoke and death to sun and grass and peace so quickly.

As I return to father, a colt my age runs to me, smiling. I smile back at my friend, Rush Wind.

“Chosen! Come and help me!” he says, his eagerness and energy never truly able to be doused. Even when he had run from the invaders like the rest of us, he was smiling.

“Help you what?” I ask as I follow him, keeping pace with him. Rush likes to run everywhere.

“Eagle’s Eye wants me to help him scout, and I want to see everything!”

Eagle’s Eye is Rush Wind’s older brother, and when Eagle’s Eye wished help scouting that meant a lot of time staring at the horizon. Boring for Rush Wind. I will be helping Eagle’s while he played nearby, but I do not mind.

Eagle’s Eye sees much, and I enjoy watching with him.

He was happy to see me, and the three of us went to the highest point. It wasn’t much, the plain was flat and lacked any real high point, but it was enough that we could see very far.

Eagle’s Eye could see very far, and he can spot an insect at a hundred hoofsteps. I can do the same, with a little elemental help.

My teacher taught me that air effects your vision. And if you can focus air, you can see for miles, seeing as though you were standing close to what you looked at. I was really good at that, though the trick was simple, nothing to be proud of.

So Rush ran nearby, chasing a butterfly, while his brother and I stood and stared.

A river to the west, and a forest just beyond. A savannah to the east, as well as mountains. The south was more field, and the north was as well. But in the distance was something.

A piece of wood planted in the ground. We went to check on it, and found a dirt trail next to it.

“Eagle’s Eye?” I ask, “What is it?” It had black markings on it, and seemed to be put there purposefully.

“It is a sign Chosen. Humans like to use them to note their trails, like the one we stand on now.”

“Should we tell father?” Humans do not like us. They cause trouble. Maybe it would help if I or Eagle’s Eye could read their tongue. Teacher can, but most of the tribe cannot.

“Perhaps… but perhaps not. Not much travels on this trail, and it is far from where we are. I do not think it is something to fear, but we shall tell Martuk anyway.”

We spent more time out there, the peace of the fields infectious and the warm sun drowsy. Rush Wind can barely keep going, and though I try, I am not yet disciplined like a warrior.

Even Eagle’s eye seems to be affected. I can tell he is being sloppy, but I do not truly care. The day is too nice to care.

Father has ordered the tribe, and already they are ready to live in this place. Tents are being set, and everyone has their job to do. He is busy, so I leave him, and go to teacher.

He tells me to find some rest. It is a simple enough thing, so I do so, finding a free spot on the grass and settling on my side to sleep.

This place is much nicer than where we had lived. Father and teacher can smooth out any trouble that does arise, and the warriors are strong and capable. A field is no mountain home, but I have no fear with the tribe nearby.

I wake to a strange feeling. Something is bad. Wrong.

I stand, and notice that the shadows are shifting rapidly, as though someone is carrying a torch near me. But no one has a torch.

Everyone is murmuring and looking skyward, and I follow their example.

The sun is dropping, so fast it can be seen. In a moment it goes from day to dusk to night, leaving us in darkness. And then the moon rises, bright and fast as well until it stops high in the sky.

I am worried, and distressed. What is happening?

I go and find teacher and father looking skyward together, the tribe around them, waiting for them to tell them what to do. I walk close, so I can hear them.

“I do not know Martuk. The ancestors might, but I cannot find them here.”

“Then what Gori? What am I to do? What if the sun never rises again? Who do we go to when even you are left uncertain?”

“Remember Martuk; once our ancestors did not have ancestors. Everything has a beginning, and sometimes knowledge is gained the hard way. This land does not seem the type to lose its sun. Perhaps it is only something that happens only once in a long time.”

“Father?” I say as I go to him. “What is happening?”

He gets the determined face, the one he uses when he does not want me to fear. “Nothing Chosen. The sky is simply acting out of place. Nothing to be concerned over.”

Those words are something to be concerned over. Father did not speak like that when he felt safe or in control.

“Do not dismiss the boy Martuk. Maybe Chosen can see what old eyes cannot.” Gori looks to me. “Chosen, what do you make of the sky?”

I hesitate. Teacher is testing me I think. I look up and wonder.

“…The stars are different.” I say. “The runner is not there, and neither is the warrior.”

“And?” he asks. I try harder.

“…I…” There is nothing else. What else is there? The sky, the sun, the stars and the moon…

“The moon… the moon is big.” I say, wondering how I did not see that before. There is something else, and I focus on it.

“It is big… and… something is… is pushing it? I can see it moving, and I can kind of see something around it, as though a hand pushes it through the sky.”

Teacher looks back up and nods. “It is as he says. I did not see that.” He rubs his chin.

“What does it mean?” father asks, angry and frustrated.

“It means that nature is not rebelling. It means that something is controlling it.”

“But what Gori? What can control the skies?”

“…gods?” Gori says slowly. Humans have gods, but everyone knows that they don’t exist. Teacher is teasing father with the word.

“I know of nothing that can Martuk. I know of no one who would know of something that can. But I have never seen those stars, never seen the moon so big with its marks changed.”

They are. The moon and stars are different? “And that makes me realize how far we have gone.” He finishes. I fear.

“Where are we teacher?” I ask again.

“We have left our land, and come to another apart from it. That moon is not our own, those stars are not our own, and I suspect that if I look, the sun is not our own. The portal has lead us from our place to a new place in every way.”

Father frowns and his face tightens. Then he growls, and turns to the tribe.

“Stay on guard! Do not let the peace fool you! This place is new, and can easily be dangerous! Let the warriors and scouts find what is safe or not, even if that thing is something you know!”

“We must keep safe! We lost too many, and I will not suffer more losses! Stay on your guard, and make sure that nothing tricks you, and that nothing can threaten us!”

He walks away and teacher continues to watch the sky. I join him, looking at the new stars, wondering how you created a picture with them. I liked the old star drawings, but I can’t just draw on the sky with charcoal. I wonder how the ancestors did it.

Still, father knows what he is doing, and teacher is a capable guide. We will be safe, even if the peace does turn out to be a trap, and the land is more dangerous than the falling stones of Thunder cliff.

For a moment I see something. A shape eclipses the moon for a second. A… winged horse? Should I tell… no. Teacher will think me tired, and father will say that I am too young to be trusted with strange sights. Maybe I imagined it.

Father is making absolutely certain that everything is what it appears to be. Even the water in the river is given careful watch before anyone will be allowed to drink it or bathe in it. A few fish are in it as well, and the tribe is treating them like we would treat the death birds. Evil and bad things.

Father allowed me to continue helping Eagle’s eye in his scouting, so long as I had my spear and wits about me at all times. Father’s spear is long, and old. His father’s father had made it, and the wood and bone were stronger than most things.

Mine was weak, small, and not special. I was not an adult, and used a child’s spear instead. I was growing fast, but I was still a few seasons from manhood yet, which was frustrating. I was 13 winters, and I need to be 15 before I could be called a man by the rights of the tribe. Or unless I convinced father and the tribe that I was mature before my age.

It was on one of those scouting missions that father forbade me from scouting anymore. I saw a town, a human town of some size to the north, not very far from us at all. Father did not want me near them, or anyplace that I could be near them. All of the scouts to the north were told to look elsewhere as well.

I am currently helping to hunt fish. Teacher will determine if they are safe to eat, but until then I enjoy trying to spear them in the river. A challenge considering we cannot enter the water yet. I am better than the others, more easily able to contort myself and reach them than the adults.

Then a ‘we found something good’ call comes from the camp, and we get up and go that way.

In the camp is a tent, one that stands on a wooden box atop wooden wheels. A few of the warriors are near it, emptying it of supplies.

I know the wagons that humans use, but this one seems too small. Not that they ever made sense. We can’t use them, and it is hard to climb inside of it.

Nearby was much more interesting. Father was arguing with Strong Arm, and near them were three foals, one of them a runt.

I am a little bigger, and they should grow to be at least twice their current size. They are very colorful, bright yellow, pink, and blue unlike any fur I have seen. My own is brown and tan, and father’s is a dull red, but the horses almost look like someone painted them. As colorful as flowers, and so smooth, as if someone has just brushed them.

They are tied to a post, and I go to them, wondering. I get along with horses.

They are afraid. They are children, and I wonder where the parents were. Wouldn’t the adult horses be tied to the wagon, and the foals either in or nearby? But there is no adult horse nearby.

I reach in my pouch and offer a carrot to them. They back away from me, and refuse it. Strange.

“Chosen!”

I jump a little, and look up at my father. “Get away from them.”

“They are only foals father.”

“The one of them was pulling a loaded cart, and hurt one of the warriors because he thought it was only a foal. It is not, and the other two might not be either.”

I look at them with new eyes. They almost seem intimidating now. Something so colorful and small so strong? It is surprising, and gives father’s concern much more reality. This place might be a trap after all.

“Chosen, come with me.” Father says.

I obey and walk with him. He goes and selects his hunting spear, and Soft Hoof joins us. I am overjoyed. We are going hunting! But as I reach for the child spears, he stops me and shakes his head.

And then he gives me one of the adult spears, and I look at it and then look up at him.

“It is getting close to your manhood Chosen. You need to begin readying yourself for it. I know that you can impress me.”

My smile cannot be larger. “I will make you proud father.”

The new spear is larger and heavier than what I am used to, but it is nothing. Father thinks me ready to begin manhood! Soon, I might be able to perform the ceremony, and then I can hunt alone, and use the big spear always, and eat with father at the feasts! And then I can find my own match.

Father only had one match, and she died soon after birthing me. He never chose another one, but I wanted many children, to honor my father and me. Four or five matches might do. Enough children to make a whole tribe!

Father led us North West, wanting to see the town for himself. I am still eager, and ready. I want to prove myself to him.

After a time we can see it, the land sloping down and leading to the town. I can just barely see things moving in it.

Father nods, and then moves away and I follow. I keep my eyes open around me, and do not use my trick to look into the town. It would be failing as a hunter to act as a scout.

Nearby, we find a herd of cow. Large animals that can make a whole feast, and were far tastier than the yak or bull. Humans liked to raise them, and I loved to eat them.

“Can we father?” I ask, trying to contain my excitement.

He thinks, and then he nods. “They are not dangerous Chosen, but be careful that they do not fall on you. Get the first, and I shall have another.”

I nod, and look at the herd. All of them look delicious, but I must choose the best, like a good hunter. Maybe the one near the yellow flowers…

I move to it, walking slowly but purposefully. It does not look to me, just like the hunters said. Big and stupid things.

Then I stab it, and it cries as it falls. I missed its heart, and it keeps crying and upsets the rest.

Father impales another with his own spear, and the herd stampedes away from us. I kill my own as he comes to me.

“A good first son. A fine choice as well, which makes up for your lack of aim.”

“Sorry father.”

“Do not be. I have seen others fail to even hurt one, and many bring back nothing from their first hunt. I am proud my son.” I smile, and he and Soft Hoof begin dragging the animals. I help, struggling to lift any part of it, but I am impossible to upset now!

I made him proud, and made a great hunt, and killed my favorite meal. The return and later meal will be all the better for that.

perspective, pony

The southern road from Ponyville was not often used. It was a very long way to anything else by that route, and few ever needed or wanted to travel that way. But every now and then somepony did. For one reason or another, they left to the south, or came from it, prepared for a journey that would take weeks on hoof. Pegasi had it easy.

One family, Good growth, Fine Fur, and Gentle Eyes, father, mother and daughter respectively, were one of those who had reason to go south. They wanted to visit some family that lived far apart, and they had prepared for it well.

Food enough to last them the entire trip, proper protective wear in case of trouble, and camping supplies for comfort. Good had even bought an entire covered wagon, in case of rain, to be able to carry everything, and he was strong enough to drag it himself.

So early that morning, Fine Fur and Gentle had climbed inside, and bid farewell to Ponyville as they left. The trip was going to be long, but they were happy and optimistic about it.

For the first few hours, they sang to pass the time, until they stopped along the dirt trail to eat lunch. Salad for now; Good did not want to heave the grill free from the wagon until later on in the trip.

And then Gentle spotted something, and in moments, they were surrounded by creatures like and different from them.

They looked like ponies, with fur that was dirty and far duller than their own coats, and they stood a fair bit taller than a pony. Almost twice as high measuring from their backs, three times if you counted their heads. Instead of a normal head, they had a hairless upper torso, like a shaved minotaur. It was topped with a head with a rough tussle of short hair, and a face like nothing they had seen. It was flat, and the nose and mouth were slightly alien in structure.

In hands, they held vicious spears, and on their backs were pouches and rope. Two of them peered into the wagon, spears first, and four others clustered near the family.

It all took a few seconds for them to be there, and Fine and Gentle moved behind Good, trying to put him in between them and the strange beings. He was afraid, but stood strong, to protect his wife and child.

At first, the strange creatures did not seem to care about them, but then two of then grabbed the wagon by the harness, and one of the others approached, with a rope in a noose.

Before it could place it around Good, he turned, and bucked the thing. It reared from the hit, and backed up, the others of its kind tensing fast.

They backed up, and the others began moving the wagon away, and Good yelled after the ones stealing their belongings. That is when the others lassoed him, the rope catching him easily. Fine and Gentle did not resist as they saw Good caught, and while he was well tied, they only received something like a rope collar.

And then they were lead off, and sometimes dragged when Good tried to fight back again. It wasn’t of much use. The things were very strong, and could easily drag him.

They were led to a camp, and for a moment Good and Fine wondered what these things were doing, camping in the plain and robbing unsuspecting ponies. But then they saw the tents closer, and paled.

Hide was stretched upon wood, and stitching and stains could obviously be seen. Their tents were made from skin.

Fine moved behind Gentle and gently pushed her forward, the filly thankfully too young to know what she was seeing. Good trudged ahead of them, very worried. Tents made of skin was nothing but a bad sign, a really bad sign, and he feared for their sake.

They were led to a hitch, of the kind ponies used to hold their hats and coats, and tied the ropes to that. There were many of the strange creatures nearby, and they saw their wagon dragged to the camp as well. A fearsome cry was emitted by one of them, and more gathered to look at the wagon, and then begin unloading everything, carrying it off somewhere.

Right then, Good did not really care about their things. He was far more worried that they might be used for tents. He tried to keep his fear under control, for his wife and daughter, though they were already upset and afraid.

“Good, they are taking everything.” Fine said.

“I know dear, but we can’t do anything.” He tried to whisper. He didn’t want to attract attention. “Just wait, and try not to get their attention.”

His wife nodded and Gentle said, “Mommy, what are they doing? I don’t like the rope.”

“I know Gentle, I don’t like it either, but leave it for now.” Fine told her. “Everything is going to be just,” she looked around at the skin tents again and shuddered, “just fine.”

Gentle watched her mother and then went back to staring at the creatures. They watched more come, and one of them, a small one their size, with mottled brown fur glance over and walk to them.

They shied from it, and when it held out a carrot, Good feared what it might want to do. And then a fierce yell came from the largest, and the small one jumped, and returned to that one, glancing back with concerned eyes.

For a time, they were left alone though not unwatched. Many of the creatures stayed nearby, and several of them oftentimes looked over. There was no chance for Good to try and escape, not without trying to get himself and his family to outrun many of them. And he was not a fast runner.

So he waited, worrying about what would become of them, and then a few more came into the small area that they were in.

Dragging very dead cows.

Gentle began crying, and Fine tried to comfort her and block her sight of the scene. Particularly when the creatures slashed the cow’s throats, and left them to bleed nearby, staining green grass red. Good was suddenly thankful that he hadn’t eaten.

Back in Ponyville, Applejack had just noticed the missing cows, and the broken fence that had let them wander off in the first place. She frowned at it, and then looked, to try and spot the herd.

Then she did. They stampeded right through another portion of the fence, and then ran directly into the barn where one of them slammed the door shut. Applejack was temporarily stunned.

She had seen them frightened, and they went to the barn when they were. She had also seen them stampede, but never through the fence, and never to the barn. What was going on?

The cows refused to exit, and it took Applejack time to even get them to talk to her about what happened. They were less than helpful.

“Two of us, gone!” One of them offered.

“Red, so red!” another said.

“It was horrible!”

Applejack listened, and then told them that they could stay in the barn, and try to calm down. Then she left, heading to Ponyville to talk to Twilight, upset.

Cow thieves in Ponyville. She never would have imagined it.

Twilight didn’t either. Cow thieves were rare in Equestria, and were only found near very large groups of cows. Like in Applelossa, not near Sweet Apple Acers.

“We gotta do somethin about this Twi.” Applejack said. “Th cows are right upset, an two of em are missin, jus like they said.”

“I know Applejack, I know. We can all go and look for them just as soon as everypony is able to. I’ll call the girls, and meet you at the farm, O.K?”

Applejack agreed, and the very next day, all six of the friends were heading south, hoping to find some clue as to where the cows had gone.

Just outside of town, standing on the southern road, was a centaur, and they stopped in confusion and shock. They had dealt with a centaur before: Tirek, and seeing another was less than comforting for them. Even if he was far smaller than Tirek had been, he still stood over them, and seemed less than friendly.

Twilight recovered first, and called out, “Hello?” She was hoping that he was nothing like Tirek had been.

“Go away.” he said. “You aren’t welcome here.”

“…We were looking for some cows?” Twilight said, feeling nervous. She did not like the look to the centaur, but she was trying to be optimistic about the encounter.

“… They are dead.” The group shuddered. “They are ours, and will be eaten after they are bleed out, and butchered, and skinned, and cooked, their meat to feed us, their skin to clothe us.”

Twilight felt very ill. He was being explicit in his words, far more so than any of them could stand to hear. Dead was bad enough. Butchered and skinned was altogether too far.

As they turned green, he continued. “And if you ponies come south, you will be our next meal.” Fluttershy fainted, and the centaur turned and ran as they tried to rationalize what had just happened.

Where had the centaur come from? He made it sound like there were more of him, and that they ate meat. And then he threated that they would eat ponies! In a few words, it had gone from worried optimism, to the single worst thing that they could find.

Twilight swallowed. “…Back to Ponyville.” She managed to gasp. “Quickly. The princess needs to know this.”

The others nodded, and Rainbow picked up Fluttershy as the rest followed Twilight. They all felt weak and sickened more so than they had ever been before. They were all thinking that Tirek was a blessing compared to those centaur.

Knowledge, mercy, and suffering

The next day is cloudy, ready to rain. Early in the morning I head to teacher, to talk to him about a few things I have thought of.

I find Eagle’s Eye leaving his tent, and I go inside.

Teacher is frowning and thinking. He doesn’t notice me coming in until I ask, “Teacher?”

“Chosen. Is something the matter?”

“Many things teacher.” I say.

“Then speak.”

“I’ve been thinking about our past home. And how the ancestors guided us. But here… there isn’t a place where I can get guidance teacher. What do I do?”

Teacher sighs. “Your father had much the same worry the very first day here Chosen. And the answer is simply to do your best. The ancestors live in their graves, and cannot follow us here. We cannot find guidance from them anymore.”

I am upset with that. Teacher is old and wise, but the ancestors are older and wiser. I was only just starting to be able to talk with them, and now they are gone. I had wanted to try and find… but it is of no use now.

I must accept it. Father says it is futile to fight against something that we cannot change. The sun rises, the wind blows, and we have no say in the rain. To fight them is foolishness and to suffer them hard but wise.

“Then teacher, another question.” I say, worried that this one too might give me an ugly answer.

“The elements here don’t speak, but there is… something else, like the stuff that pushes the sun and moon. I don’t know what it is.”

“That is called ‘the break’ Chosen. It is a long tale, but I have time. Sit, and I shall tell you.”

I sit on a rug, and teacher sighs and looks up, closing his eyes.

“Once, so long ago that the centaur didn’t run on the plains, and the grass didn’t grow, and the sun didn’t shine, there was a place. The world was just rock, no water, no life, and for a very long time that is all that was.”

“And then a power was born into that place. The power touched the rock, and life was made wherever it touched. For another time that’s all that was, but then it reached out again a told the life the forms it should take. It told the plants how they should look and taste like, and told the animals how they should look and act like. It told the world how to be a world.”

“And for a time, there was nothing but that power and the world. That power is the elemental power, the same stuff that we shaman use to help our people. The power that is present in all things. But it wasn’t always so. During the beginning, the power held itself apart, and nothing could touch it. But its isolation was ended soon. Another power came, a match for the elemental power, coming from the darkness beyond the world.”

“First it copied the world, spreading life through the skies, far past where we can touch or even see. Then it returned, and it told the world that it could be what it wanted to be. That birds could swim, and fish could fly, and rocks could live, if only they wanted to. And from that chaos was born man, and the centaur, and everything else that thinks.”

“So it was a good thing teacher?” I ask. “It made us, right?”

Teacher smiles. “It did Chosen, but not all good things remain good. Too much good can become bad.”

“You see Chosen, many things disobeyed, and for everything that disobeyed, something broke just a little more. By tiny bits, things changed and the changes grew worse and worse. The elemental power fought back, but it was helpless before the new power. Forced to watch as everything began destroying itself.”

“It couldn’t let that happen, so the power scattered itself into everything, and stopped the changes before nothing could. But the changes were only stopped. Not fixed.”

“The oldest ancestors call it ‘the break’, where the world is cracked and hurt from its changes. And that break powers what man calls magic, the stuff that defies nature and the world, and tries to change what shouldn’t be changed.”

Teacher finishes, and looks at me. “The break here is big. There is much magic in the air, and it touches everything here. The elements here are so busy holding themselves together that they cannot speak and only act.”

I nod, wondering. I hadn’t heard that story before, and wonder why.

“Why was Eagle’s Eye in here?” I ask as I get up, just curious now.

“He is feeling unwell.” Teacher says. I nod, and leave, exiting out into a faint rain that promises to be worse.

Most of the tribe is ignoring it, and I do as well. I go to the pen, and see it bigger than before, and that the horses inside are shivering in the rain.

I turn and go back, heading to where Rush and his mother live. I find them on the edge of the camp, and White Fur, Rush Wind’s mother, looks down at me.

“I need a hide.” I tell her. She is one of the best at curing leather, and I know that she has some with her.

She nods, and turns behind her. “Rush! Gather a large hide, and carry it for Chosen!”

Rush rushes over, with a large hide. “Will this do?” White Fur asks me. I nod, and Rush follows after me, carrying the hide. It is perfect for what I intend.

With him, I head back to the pen, and I gather a number of poles as well. As we go to the pen, Rush hesitates, and asks me, “Can we go in there Chosen? Brother says it isn’t safe.”

“It is safe Rush.” I say as I open the gate. “There is nothing in here that will hurt us.”

We enter, and I close the gate, and then head to the three horses, shivering. They see me and Rush and seem calm if slightly worried. Rush is more scared of them than they are of him. He is a bit smaller than them.

I go and pat one, and that calms Rush down. I take the hide from him, and place it atop the male horse, and get the poles and begin planting them into the ground.

Just a little bit more and…

The bird horse suddenly comes over, pawing at the ground and flapping angrily. I had forgotten that she was here as well. Rush yells and darts behind me, and I feel like running too, but she is between us and the gate.

She makes several noises, and then the horses behind me make their own. I try to calm myself, and toss the hide atop the first pole, letting it hang there. Then I grab the next pole, and plant that, shifting the hide to stretch between them.

Almost done, but the bird horse is being very loud and scary. I creep forward, holding the pole close. Maybe I can do it from a distance.

I shift my grip, and stretch the pole forward, toward the bird horse. I tap the ground in front of her, and try to push it in like that. It isn’t working.

And then the bird pony stomps on and snaps the pole, sending me off balance before Rush grabs me, and stomps forward, neighing and looking much bigger than it had before.

Rush is behind me, and I step back a bit as he whimpers. The bird horse follows, and I feel terrified. If that horse take a few more steps, I will be pinned and then I will not care about being a man.

I am going to scream and cry like a newborn, before it kills me and Rush.

But before she moves closer though, the other horses move in front of me. They neigh angrily, and glare at the bird horse. There is a lot of noise as they all neigh and snort at each other, stomping several times.

And then… then the female horse smacks the bird horse, as though they are two females fighting in the tribe. The sounds stop, and the bird horse stops flapping while the female neighs and stomps.

And then the bird pony leaves, slowly, and the other horses look back. They nuzzle into my belly before walking back under the hanging hide, trying to be out of the rain. I stare, and they… smile? Is that a smile?

“Chosen?” Rush says from behind me, still grabbing me.

Be strong. I have to be strong.

“I told you everything was fine Rush.” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Now we just have to finish.”

It is easy to plant the last pole now, even if it is smaller than the other two, and stretch the hide to create a simple shelter for the horses. It is only a simple rain shelter, but they appreciate it, and nuzzle me again.

I leave, and Rush runs to the gate and heaves it open. “Come on!” he says, holding it for me.

I smile and nearly follow him, but then I hesitate, and look back. The bird pony is against the far wall form the shelter, sitting with her head down.

“Rush, shut the gate and go ahead.” I say. He gives me a concerned look, but does so.

“If you get attacked by the bird horse, grab the wings!” he yells as he heads away. It might not be a bad idea to do that. Rush gets good ideas every now and then.

I go back, and head toward the bird horse. She doesn’t look over, she doesn’t flap, and she doesn’t even move. Her breathing is off, as though she is… crying.

I reach, and gentle touch her. She jolts, but doesn’t move, and I begin rubbing. I hope that she likes it like the others do.

Her breathing grows worse, and I try to think of what to do. I start humming, the tune coming to me as if I’ve heard it before, but I cannot recall.

A few moments pass, but her breathing returns to normal, and she glances up at me. I stop rubbing and hold out a carrot again. I have taken to carrying them around, to feed the horses.

She looks at it and snorts. She almost seems frustrated, but stands and faces me and then takes the carrot. I smile at her, and she seems calm. No more anger, no more flapping. I like her better like this.

I lead her toward the shelter, and when the other horses glare, I glare at them.

“No.” I state firmly. They look up at me and I shake my head. “No. She stays dry too. Be nice.”

I take my remaining carrots, and leave them in the food basket. I go to leave, turn back to make sure that they aren’t fighting, and then leave happy.

The rain lasted a few hours, and now the clouds are no longer dropping water. I am with father and Strong Arm, hunting again. We go into the forest to the west, both to hunt and to know what lives in this place.

I am not used to the closed in area. It feels a little like I am trapped, but father is with me, and with him I have no fear.

The trees crowd around us, and plant growth sometimes reaches up to my head. Strong Arm and father cut a path through, and I follow in their wake.

Then we pass into a clearing, and we see a blue horse. It has a horn on its head, and for a moment I fear that it’s a unicorn.

But it’s not. Or I think it isn’t. It’s too small. Unicorns are huge, almost as big as father is. The one before us is my size, the same size as the horses back at camp. Father frowns at it and Strong Arm grows tense. It seems to be watching us.

“Chieftain?” Strong Arm asks my father.

Father hesitates. “Leave it. Let us go another way, and leave it behind.”

Strong arm nods, and we back away before progressing another way. And then the unicorn is back, standing in our way, to our left.

And then to the right. And where we had come from. Always just waiting for us to try and walk away.

Father curses under his breath, and Strong Arm is gripping his spear so tight his knuckles turn white. This is bad. Unicorns are very strong, and have many abilities that are very bad, even for father. We are in great danger right now, and I draw closer to him.

“Strong Arm.” father says, “The next time we see it, toss your spear at it.”

“Chieftain.”

“Chosen. Be as safe as you can.”

“I will father.”

Then we return to the first clearing, and it is there, just like I expected it to be. Strong Arm throws his spear, and its horn lights, and the spear stops in the air.

Father curses, and roars before he and Strong Arm charge it. This is bad. The unicorn can use that break stuff teacher told me about. I didn’t know that they could do that. I am fearful of it now, and cower slightly.

Strong Arm is struck by a blob of color from its horn, and he is tossed aside, but father bats the one directed at him away, and slices at the unicorn. It screams, unlike any horse I ever heard. Father pierces its hind leg with his spear, and it collapses.

I hear something in the forest, and hurry over to them. Strong Arm gets up just in time to be rammed by another bird horse, this one blue with a rainbow mane. More horses follow it, more unicorns, and bird horses, and normal horses.

“Strong Arm!” father yells, seeing him struggling with the blue bird horse. I see the other unicorn’s horns light too, and father stomps, shaking the ground and upsetting the unicorns before they can do anything.

“Chosen! Run! Fast and hard, and do not turn back!”

“Father!”

“RUN!” he bellows, and he charges at the assembled horses. I do not see what happens, as I am already racing through the woods, trying to remember the way home.

I keep hearing sounds. Horses neighing, their strange screams, Strong Arm’s yells, and father, cursing and bellowing.

I hate the woods! I can’t see where I’m going, I don’t know where I am, and the horses have attacked us! I keep tripping, I can hear father yelling still, and I fear what might happen to him.

I keep running, and running, and running, trying to outrun the sounds, and the unicorns that I am sure are just behind me.

It’s been a while since I’ve heard anything. The sun has set and I pick my way across a very dark forest, upset, and hungry.

I want to be back at camp. I want to eat something, but I’m very lost in this place. The trees have thinned, but now they seem terrifying, leering monster faces on their trunks. I keep hearing things that I do not have the names for, and every sound sounds like something that want to hurt me. I can see nothing in the darkness.

I hold my spear tight to me, and jump with every rustle. I keep thinking that I see unicorns in the bushes.

Worse. Sometimes the bushes resemble father. And sometimes he has come to find me and I end up running into a thorn bush, and sometimes…

Sometimes he is lying dead.

I don’t want this! My eyes sting, and I stomp. Why did this have to happen!? Why!?

I move faster, feeling weak and helpless, my tears blurring my near useless vision.

I shove my way through a bush and then hesitate, and brush my eyes clear.

There is a giant stone thing. Like the buildings humans make, but it towers over me and the forest. Like a cliff, or a mountain.

I stare at it, and then feel a raindrop. It is shelter at least, so I run to it, feeling the rain increase.

I pass through a broken wall, wet. The inside is dark, but it is slightly warmer than outside, and it does have a carpet for me to lie on.

I look about myself, and remember the lessons that my father taught me. I gather some of the wood nearby; the furniture that humans make, breaking it apart before setting fire to it.

It is a small fire, and I lie on the rug, listening to the rain and flinching with every crack of lightning.

I hate this. I don’t want to be here. I don’t… I don’t want this to be happening.

I want father.

perspective, pony

The next morning was cloudy, and soon became rainy. It was cold and unhappy for all of the ponies in the pen and they shivered from it, Fine and Good trying to keep Gentle warm.

And then the gate opens again, and they watch the little one, followed by another little one, smaller than the first, enter with several poles and a large piece of skin.

Fine and Good have grown used to the sight, but Soft recoils from it, sickened. The little ones come over, and drops the skin over Good, who freezes from the contact. He was unsure what he should do.

“What do you think you’re doing!” screamed Soft, who walked over, her featherless wings flaring out. The little ones jumped, and the smaller hid behind the larger.

“Go away!” Soft shouted, her wings spread wide.

The little one tried to ignore her, and planted a pole in the earth and then tossed the skin atop it. Another pole and he stretched the skin between them and Good realized what he was trying to do for them.

He was making a rain shelter. Because they were uncomfortable. His heart warmed a little from the thought.

And then the little one looked at the pole it was holding, and Soft, who was growling at him and flapping. He reached the pole out, and tried to push it into the earth near her from a great angle. It wasn’t working well.

“Go away!” yelled Soft, and she stomped on the pole, snapping it and if not for the smaller one, the little guy would have fallen again.

“I said leave!” Soft screamed as she moved on him. He backed away, and the smaller one gave off a whimper.

Just like a scared foal would. The little guy seemed close to crying in terror too.

Good and Fine had had enough, and interposed themselves between the little ones and Soft.

“Stop it!” Good said. “He is trying to help!”

“He is being kind, can’t you see that?” Fine added.

“All I see is a monster trying to ‘help’ with skin!” Soft screamed. “Where do you think that came from!? He killed somepony and that is their skin!”

Gentle began sobbing behind them, and Fine became enraged. Soft was terrifying children, even if two of them weren’t ponies, and had just made her daughter cry.

A single step forward, and then a vicious slap, and everything went quiet.

“I want you gone.” Fine hissed to Soft’s shocked face. “I do not care what you think, because you are wrong! They are children! Not! Monsters! They do not know any better, and my daughter is sobbing because of you!”

Soft was stunned as Fine raged, and Good only stared, never having seen his wife like that.

“You are going to the other side of this pen, and if you so much as glance at the little ones, or even think about speaking where my daughter can hear you, I will pluck you featherless! Go! Now!”

Soft walked away quickly, and Fine huffed before returning to her husband.

“Wow.” He said. He watched his wife go and nuzzle the little one.

“Everything is fine now. The mean pony won’t hurt you.” She told him, and Good followed after her, giving the little one his own brief nuzzle of affection. As thanks for the shelter.

“Wow.” Good repeated. Fine looked at him, and the little one finished the shelter and they no longer had rain falling on them.

“What?” snapped Fine.

“That was… You never really…” Good murmured in a daze.

“Dear?”

“You never looked so gorgeous.” he said. “I really like that fire in you.” He grinned hugely, and Fine recalled that Good oftentimes had a hard time controlling himself when something set him off.

“Darling, Gentle is watching.” she reminded him. That usually did the trick, but he hesitated this time.

“I… she takes a nap soon. We’ll have time.”

“And what about the creatures nearby? Or the fact that Soft is still here, and there is no privacy in this pen? And Gentle wakes up at the slightest noise, remember?”

Good tried very hard to think of some way he could convince Fine to have another child right now. Very hard and for a fairly long time before he sighed.

“Pony feathers.”

“The moment we have some kind of private time, I’ll make it up to you dear.”

Soft was on the far side of the pen. She tried, but it soon became too much for her, and she broke down in tears, her shoulders hitching as she tried and failed to suppress sobs.

Her recent experiences were altogether too much for her. Knocked from the sky, captured by monsters, and now isolated from the only other ponies near her. She wanted to be home, wanted to see her family again, but she felt like she might never see them again.

So she cried, unable to stop herself though she tried. Then she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and she flinched before stopping herself. Nothing that the little monster could do to her would make this worse after all.

But instead of harming her, he rubbed at her, gently moving his hand in circles. As if he was trying to comfort her. Soft sobbed, feeling worse: a monster was trying to help her feel better.

She kept crying, but then slowed. She was hearing something. A gentle humming, a soothing tune, like a mother would to calm her child. It was helping her to calm, and after a moment she turned to look up at him, and wondered at his concerned face.

But he smiled when she looked, and offered her a carrot. She looked at it before huffing. She didn’t understand him at all, but she took the carrot. The little one gently touched her again, and pulled at her. He guided her back toward the… the shelter he had made.

Soft followed him willingly, but hesitated upon seeing Fine’s glare. Both parents frowned as he led her under the cover, but then he frowned right back. Several sounds, sharp and reprimanding were issued.

Then he put a bunch of carrots into the food basket, and left, looking back several times before leaving altogether.

“Did he just… Yell at us?” Good asked.

Fine felt a little awkward. The little one had obviously been upset with them, and the reason was obvious. Soft looked like she had been crying too, and now that she looked back on it, Fine regretted parts of what she had said. Like the plucking.

“I’m sorry Soft.” she murmured. This was altogether too much like being a filly again for her comfort. “I shouldn’t have… said all that.”

“It’s fine.” Soft said quickly. “He… really is… kind. I was just… a little upset about my wings.”

“So… friends?” asked Fine, hoping.

Soft looked at her, and then gave a weak smile. “Better than enemies.”

It took a bit for Twilight to think of what she was going to tell Celestia about the centaur on the road. And then when she had, it had taken a while for a reply to come.

To my dearest student, Twilight Sparkle,

I am surprised that such beings are here, but we must be understanding. It is possible that they are afraid, and are making dark threats to defend themselves from us. Griffons also eat meat, and threatened much the same when my ponies first encountered them.

Some friendships take a long time. Care for them until they blossom, and they are often greater than those easily gained.

Your teacher, Celestia

Twilight sighed in some relief. Celestia always knew what was best, and she was right. The centaur might be reacting in fear and saying things to terrify them away. It made some sense.

So diplomatic visits would be needed until such a time as the centaur felt safe to let her and her friends truly meet them.

But that could wait. It was very late now, and Twilight wanted to get some rest before making plans.

At least, that had been the plan before a scream came from the town.

One brief teleport got her just a little in front of her castle, where a couple of ponies were staring at the fallen form of Derpy. One wing had a hole in it, and she had a piece of wood stuck in her side, with feathers on the end of it. She was bleeding and badly hurt, but managed to weakly look up at Twilight.

Twilight swallowed hard, and then used her own magic to stop the bleeding, and pull out the wood. It had a sharp tip made of bone, and she incinerated the horrible thing. Then she thought she might have learned something from it and regretted destroying it until Derpy groaned.

She needed to get her to somepony who could help her. In another brief teleport, arrived at Fluttershy’s house, scaring the yellow pegasi silly.

“Fluttershy!” Twilight called, Fluttershy already gone from the room. The mare could move very fast when she wanted to. “Fluttershy! Derpy is hurt and I need you!”

“Twilight, you scar… Oh dear. Hang on.”

A short while later, Derpy was bandaged and not too badly hurt. She would recover with aid. But if the weapon had been just a half inch deeper or further up, it would have hit her heart. As it was, it was blind luck that let Derpy live as long as she had.

Derpy groaned again, and half opened an eye.

“Get some rest.” Fluttershy said.

“Soft…” Derpy whispered.

“Soft?” Twilight asked.

“Lights… Soft… gone… bad…”

Twilight shuddered. She was not sure what Derpy was trying to say, but it sounded bad.

“Fluttershy, I’ll take Derpy to the hospital. Can you come to the castle bright and early? I think we need to have a plan, and soon.”

It was late in the morning that the six of them were leaving town, heading south again. A faint drizzle made the sky grey, but they were braving the weather.

“I'm not too sure about this Twi.” Applejack remarked. “They hurt Derpy pretty bad. Sounds bad ta me.”

“I am not sure what happened Applejack. Derpy is too out of it to tell me what did. All I know is that Soft Cloud and Derpy flew near where we saw the centaur, and Soft didn’t return and Derpy was hurt.”

“So we’re going to rescue Soft?” Rainbow asked.

“…Maybe. If she is being held by the centaur. She might have just received a wing injury, and had to land somewhere close.”

“Twilight…” Applejack muttered.

“I know, but we have to try.” She looked at her saddlebags, filled with flowers. A peace offering. “This is going to work, I just know it.”

The road south was clear this time, but as they went past the very edge of the Everfree, they heard a cry for help from within.

“Did you hear…” Rarity began before Rainbow dashed forward.

They all ran after her, and though they moved fast, well used to the forest, they never seemed to be any closer to the caller.

And then the cry for help was interrupted by a scream of pain, and they redoubled their efforts.

Rainbow burst into a clearing, and ran into a centaur, sending the both into a struggling heap. The others burst in and froze.

A blue unicorn, with her hind leg pierced by a spear and a big centaur, one that towered over them, holding it. A small one was near him, and looked over.

Rainbow was tangled with the other centaur, and Twilight and Rarity immediately tried to help the fallen unicorn. But the large centaur roared, a bloodthirsty sound, and stomped hard enough to send them off balance. He was somehow able to shake the very earth, and he bellowed like a dragon at them.

The small one took off, rushing into the wood, and the large one changed.

Applejack met him, and he matched her strength easily before tossing her away and using his spear to bat Rainbow from the other one.

Twilight tried to use magic, but his spear seemed able to slice the spells. He helped up the other centaur and practically threw him from the combat.

They swarmed him, and he kept yelling and roaring as they hit him, and they screamed as he cut at them with the spear. A dangerous combatant, only managed by all six of them, his spear and size and strength giving him a good edge.

After a time, he tossed Rainbow away again, and ran into the wood. They let him go.

“Is everypony alright?” asked Twilight as Fluttershy moved forward to try and begin first aid on the slices and cuts. Nopony got speared, but the thin cuts stung.

“I’ve been better.” Applejack said. “He was tough.”

“Ow…” groaned Rainbow from her position in a bush.

“I think that I’m…” Rarity trailed off, woundless if not for her mane being sliced of nearly by three fourths. Twilight and the others tuned her out as she screamed, loud and shrill.

“I’m good!” Pinkie stated.

Twilight nodded. “And the other one?” she looked about, but did not see the white unicorn. She frowned, and the others followed suit as they recalled her.

“She couldn’t a walked away with her leg like that.” Applejack said.

“She’s not here though.” Rainbow said. “And I don’t see any place she mighta gone. Maybe she teleported?”

“Highly unlikely. Teleportation is a very difficult spell that only a few unicorns can use, and definitely not when they have been badly hurt.”

“Darling, I think that this entire trip has been a disaster. Let’s go back, so we can recover.” Twilight eyed Rarity, who had taken the remains of her hair and formed a bun on her head, her face marked with tears.

Twilight nodded. “We really need to figure this out girls, and soon, before somepony gets really hurt.”