From Ashes

All credit goes to the creators of this universe... except this part anyways... anyways this fic is a different tryout I'm going to do it in third person all the way (except for the back-story of this character). Also, this is not a self insert, I'm trying to distance myself from that kind of thing. Please leave creative comments on here and please, by all means, point out grammatical errors. I try to be as accurate as possible when it comes to grammar.

One more thing! I'm writing this to explore the world through the eyes of a human turned phoenix, I don't think anyone has done this before... If so please point them out to me... I'm rambling, sorry, enjoy the story.

Wildfire stood on a perch specifically designed for birds of prey. however, the perch was designed for a specific type of bird. A Phoenix to be precise. A bird composed of feathers that burned an intense red and golden-orange. As well as being -quite literally- on fire. Wildfires eyes burned with such intensity, that they were bleached white. The eyes were also sharper towards the front. Making it so no-pony could make out if he was looking at them, even if his head was looking directly at them. On the right side of his head was a long, but thin, scar. It was almost impossible to make out unless it was pointed out to some-pony.

Wildfire wore some sort of specially designed Phoenix armour that fitted around his chest and belly. Coming from the breast piece was several armour plates that followed up the neck and connected the separate pieces to an intimidating, yet dynamic, helmet. The main breast piece was a two separate plates that connected at the sides, forming a tight and aerodynamic seal that kept the main organs well protected. the main breast pieces also allowed unrestricted movement of the legs, wings and tail.

The wings themselves had armour from the base of the wing, all the way to the tip of the. They were two main pieces, with several smaller ones that accumulated around the joints for maximum protection, while allowing full movement of the wings. The armour on the wings also doubled up as a weapon, as they were bladed all along the edge of the armour pieces.

Wildfire ruffled his feathers a little bit and shifted uncomfortably on his perch as a breeze came through the only open window of the room. Not soon after he shifted, the door to the room opened.

The room itself was an office, a small one at that, which was almost bare. Save for a single wall mounted picture frame of small Pegasus filly. There was a desk in the center of the room with a cushion behind it, along with a small paper bin sitting next to the desk. The desk was tidy, with all the documents and office stationary equipment in set areas. The pencils and paper clips were put in size order as well. Possibly due to the fact that the pony involved had minor OCD, or a lot of time on his or her hooves.

The Pony was a unicorn mare, slightly chubby, had a bright orange coat and her dark silver mane was tied back into a bun. While her cutie mark was an otoscope (the tool used by doctors to look into your ear) her profession was a lot more complicated. The mare was a psychiatrist. She specialized in working with ponies psychological and mental problems. But with Wildfire, it didn't help that he was a Phoenix.

The pony walked up to Wildfire and proffered a hoof. Wildfire extended one of his wings and shook the mares hoof. The Pony, without wasting any time, Hurriedly moved across the room and sat down on the cushion behind the desk.

She tool her time to compose herself before finally beginning "Good morning Mr Fire-"

Wildfire held up his feather appendage and held it there for a moment. The primary feathers seemed to heat up as small heat waves rose up around the source and blurred the air immediately above. Wildfire then slowly moved his wing in a rhythmic pattern, leaving a long thin unbroken line. The line curled in such a way that it started forming sentences

"Please, just call me Wildfire. The other way makes me feel old."

The mare looked slightly stunned for a moment. She obviously hadn't expected Wildfire to be able to communicate in the slightest. Yet alone to be able to have written so fluently. The unicorn cleared her throat and tried to conceal her momentary blunder "Yes well, Wildfire, my name is Mrs. Mystic. I am here to listen to what you say and to make you feel better by the end of today." Mrs Mystic said in a calm and soothing voice.

Wildfire shrugged his shoulders and reached up, he took off the metal helmet and hung it on the side of the perch. he raised his wing and began to write "where do you want me to begin?"

Mrs. Mystic opened a draw under her desk and pulled out a scroll, she closed the draw and pulled a quill and ink over on the desk "lets start with just before you came to Equestria."

Wildfire gave out a barely audible sigh. He nodded his head and began the to write "well..."

My name used to be Zarian, I was seventeen and I used to be human. A tall bipedal being that resembled an ape, except a human didn't hunch over or have as much hair. Humans had a stance like Equestrian Minatours, albeit slightly less intimidating and a little bit smaller. I had; light-pinkish skin, Brown hair and cerulean eyes. I was as skinny as a twig, although, that was mostly because I was a tramp. A beggar. And Life just generally sucked as one. I had to hope that other people would "donate" some of their money, just so I could get a small amount of food from the nearest superstore.

I had a family… Once. My mother was a complete slut, bringing home a new man every night. And my father left me when I was a child, the bastard that he is. As far as I know, I was an only child.

I had considered going into the army, but didn't meet the weight requirements. I was a drop out in school, and I didn't like the idea of home-education. I was rarely bullied at school because I always managed to run better when being chased. I was built to be able to dodge other people and stop them from getting purchase on me. I also had -and still have- an amazing ability to infuriate almost everyone I hated, even by accident. which didn't help defuse situations. During the scraps that I did get caught up in, I was always able to jump away from any punches thrown at me. Even though I would never throw a punch, I enjoyed watching them get frustrated and even taunted them whenever I could.

Even with my evasive skills, I could never get away when I was blindsided. They quickly learnt from their mistakes and took to ganging up on me, especially when I wasn't looking. They would throw me to the ground and unleash a flurry of kicks and punches upon my skinny form. I would curl up with my right side to the floor and attempt to block any attacks to my head, not that I would be successful at it. they would be shouting abusive comments at my mother and dad, not that I cared about them, then start telling me how much of a failure I was. I would respond by laughing. As a child, something must have clicked in my brain when mt body experienced a lot of pain, as I would start laughing. when I realized this, I thought it was just a self defense mechanism, acting as a type of painkiller. or some sort of barrier to the emotional trauma I may have suffered, depending on the type of pain I was experiencing.

The bullies would only get angrier as I laughed at the pain they inflicted upon my. One time, one of the pricks pulled out some sort of wrench and whacked my rib-cage with it. as a result, I cried out in agony, but continued laughing anyways. tears streaming from my eyes..When the Teachers finally showed up, the Bullies were removed from the school premises for 2 weeks and had to pay for my hospitalization. The one with the wrench was banned permanently and received a criminal record, as well as 48 hours community service and also had to to pay for my hospital bill.

I was diagnosed with one broken rib, three fractured ribs and a punctured lung. I was operated on, within a few hours, to reset the broken bone and patch up the left lung. I was put on painkillers and a drip for a week. After that they stopped the drip and they reduced the strength of the painkillers. I was also allowed to get up and walk, as well as receive visitors. Not that I received any. A couple of weeks later I was discharged from the hospital. Because I was only fourteen at the time, my mother had to sign me out. Three days later, my mother finally showed up. she apologized to the staff and signed a few documents.

On the way home, she yelled at me all the time. Not giving me a chance to even explain what had happened. Saying that she had to pay for all the bills -which I knew was bullshit- and had to cancel a meeting with her employer at KFC to see the schools Headmaster about what had happened.

When I finally got back to school, I was kept inside the library and I attended youth club meetings every Friday and Monday. Which was great, considering I got out of many of the annoying lessons such as; P.E, English and R.S. During youth club we would play silly board games and talk about all the good things about that had happened during the week. I liked to think I had it worse off, but one of the kids there had to live with an abusive dad. He didn't live with him now, but he was mentally traumatized and he had several scars all over his body. Including a nasty gash along the side of his right cheek.

One thing happened that made me leave school for good though.

I had recently started to befriend this girl, Jenny. She was in the same year as me, she had dark blond hair and she was slightly obese, as well as being 2 inches shorter than me. She was shy at first, but then she started building her confidence up around me. I would push her away, but she would come back again and again. Eventually I started liking her and we would throw casual insults at each other and laugh at small things that happened.

We were leaving the school grounds together for the first time and we were casually strolling along, when we reached the pavement we stopped and chatted for a bit. A couple of minutes had gone by and we were still saying our goodbyes, putting off the moment when we had to go our separate ways. I lived a mile and a half away from the school, while she lived a couple of blocks down from it.

we were talking, saying the final goodbye, when she started going red in the cheeks. I moved over to ask what was wrong, when she leaned forward and up onto her toes. She caught me, unawares, in a small kiss. I stood there shocked. Flabbergasted. She had been my first kiss. The kiss only lasted for a second until she broke away and leaned her head against mine. She smiled, the corners of her mouth lifting upwards, and whispered the words "thank you." I managed to return her words in an mumbling, incoherent mess.

she giggled and stepped back. momentarily forgetting how close to the edge of the road she was, she tripped and lost her footing on the curb, right into the road. Directly into the path of an oncoming car.

I would never forget the day her scream was cut short, as the car hit her a 40 Miles per hour. The car impacted her side and she was sent careening into the front bonnet. Her head collided with the windscreen, smashing the glass. And her Skull. The car brakes screamed as they skidded on the tarmac. The impact sent her careening off and rolling into the road. clothes tearing and skin grafting along its rough surface. I ran towards her creaming her name, tears in my eyes.

As I neared Jenny, I already knew the outcome. I looked at her eyes first, trying to get her to focus on me. But the were focused on a point beyond my comprehension. I tried for a pulse and fount it absent. I shouted for someone to get an ambulance as I hugged the only person I could call a friend.

I could feel the eyes that were on us as if the air was condensing on our location. There were a few people I knew that were standing around us, but I couldn't care less who they were. I shouted at them again asking if anyone knew first aid. But no one knew anything. she was dead and there was nothing I could do about it.

when the ambulance and police arrived, I was finally removed from the scene. Police officers took me to the side and sat me down. The driver was giving his details and his account for what just happened. I just sat there, staring into space, reliving the moments when she died. Playing in loop, over and over again. A never ending cycle of images floating through my mind. Several different scenarios going through my mind, showing me different ways in which I could have saved her. Could have prevented her from dying.

at one point a police woman walked up to me and asked me a couple of questions. I answered each of them to the best that I could muster. Before she pulled me away and placed me into a police car. the last words I heard were from the others standing around "did he kill her?"

Later that week, the rumor had gone around that I had pushed the girl into the road. Things started out slow with people avoiding me and staring at me. Then there were the hushed voices. Next thing I knew, people were trading pieces of paper around. Eventually a piece of paper made it to me. I looked to the person who gave it to me, he gestured for me to open it, I slowly unfolded the piece of paper. I yelped and threw the piece of paper away from me. The word "MURDERER!" was written in red pen, stylized to look like blood.

Someone whispered the word over and over again. A few others joined in, until the whole class starting chanting the same thing. Eventually I screamed, flipped the desk in front of me and ran out the door. I kept running through the hallways, past the ongoing lessons. Trying to get the horrible chant and the laughter that soon followed. I never looked back, nor did I ever go back to that school. I couldn't face having to go there, not when I didn't have anyone to look out for me.

I lived at home constantly after that. I would take money from mom and get the shopping every time the fridge ran out of food. That was the only time I ever left the house, otherwise I would sit at home on the computer and find something that would occupy my mind for as long as possible. I had nightmares about her in the following weeks, my mother refused to get me a psychiatrist. Even after I started screaming in the night. I would often wake up to cold sweats and rapid breathing.

After a few months, the nightmares blended together. I didn't scream at night anymore, neither did I wake up with a cold sweat. However I still wake up breathing heavily, especially after a rather harrowing nightmare. Thankfully I never considered self harm, or suicide. I didn't see the point in it, unless it saved someone else, why throw your own life away?

My mother and I used to get into arguments after the new 'boyfriend' left the house. She would start off by saying that I should have been more helpful around the house. Given the fact that I practically buy all the food and clean all my own stuff, she has no right to call me lazy. These arguments usually get out of hand really quick, ending up with me running to my room and locking the door. Putting on a pair of headphones and pulling out an old I-pod, usually I would play the music loud enough so that I couldn't hear anything but my own thoughts.

I had left home when I was sixteen, my mom never even sent a missing persons report. Not that I cared. I was living on the streets ever since. I got money from strangers and slept where ever seemed comfortable at the time. My clothes were smelly but not ripped in any way and I always carry my rucksack. My clothes were a pair of thick black cargo trousers with a dirty white belt to raise the pockets a little higher. I also wore two pairs of thick socks and a pair of rugged, waterproof walking boots. I also wore a long sleeve shirt, a tube scarf that split halfway to allow both sides to go over my back and chest. I also wore a thick fleecy jacket, as well as a pair of mittens that were in dire need of repair and a black baseball cap.

My rucksack was essential for my well-being. It carried everything I had ever needed; toothbrush, toothpaste, small med-kit, spare clothes and lots of packets of tissues. I also carried a small flick-knife, which used to belong to my grandfather. My wallet was always empty, except for a few coins that I gathered, a few paper receipts and a couple of charity cards.

I had pretty much given up on life, the only thing that kept me going was that show that aired on the hub every once in a while “My Little Pony Friendship is Magic”

Sometimes I went to a library and just go inside and watch it for a while, getting odd looks from everyone else that goes in there. I ignored them though; I didn't care what they thought.

After collecting myself some money, I tried to get into some game convention that was hosting nearby. Unfortunately I had to pre-order the tickets to get in. I tried to bribe my way through with what little I had. But the bouncer didn't seem to be in a good mood and nearly punched me in the face, I managed to dodge the fist and ended up running from the scene very quickly. After walking around aimlessly for a while, I decided to enter a nearby restaurant and I ordered a cup coffee. I think I can safely say "That’s where my life turned upside down."

I was sitting on my own minding my own business when some weird bloke sat down opposite me. Needless to say I got up, picked up my stuff and moved. I sat down right in the corner of the restaurant. After a few moments the guy got up and sat down next to me, blocking my exit. I stand up and pick up all my stuff again.

“Life is pretty crap at the moment huh? Sit down, trust me.”

Against my better judgement I sat down “Can you talk?”

I nodded

“Why don’t you”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I shut it very quickly. knowing my track record I’d probably just alienate him as well.

“I see, you can talk, but you don’t in case you say something stupid”

“Least I don’t trap people in corners like some kind of pervert” I mumbled under my breath.

The old fart looked at me for a while, saying nothing. ‘probably is a pervert’ I thought to myself.

“Tell you what, I’m going to offer you a life time opportunity, no strings attached, all I ask is that you play a game. Does that seem fair?”

“Look… whoever you are, I've seen enough movies to see where this is going. I’m going to ask you politely to move, or otherwise I’m going to have to climb over this table to get around your fat ass.”

The guy seemed to get impatient and angry. He snapped his fingers once, then a second “you don’t want me to snap them a third time, you can trust me on that one”

For the first time I noticed that the streets outside were empty, the restaurant was empty and there were no cars around. Whatever this guy did, he was some kind of powerful magician or something. All I could think of were the famous phrase “ten seconds flat.” For the first time since I left my house I felt true fear, this guy had the power to make things disappear. My mind took a back seat and watched through glassed eyes.

I sat down again and started to listen “good now that that’s settled I would like for you to listen to my offer” I nodded “Good. Now I’ll cut to the chase, would you like to go to Equestria?” I paused for a moment, contemplating the pro's and con's of being there. Again I nodded my head in affirmative. “What would you like to go as?” I shrug. I don’t care anymore, I just want to get out of here, away from him “Okay then…”

The guy seemed to think about something, before he smiled. You know that evil grin people get when they've thought of something you will most likely hate. That’s the look he had on his face.

He stood up “well it was nice knowing you. See you later... hot shot”

I look at him confused as he lifts up his hand in that familiar gesture. My eyes widen in terror. He snaps his fingers for the third time.

I felt the ground open up and I fell downwards. The light became a small dot until there was nothing but blackness.

My mind roams the state of semi-consciousness, where I can't open my eyes, yet I can't go to sleep either. The first though that enters my mind is 'I'm alive?' the next I'm not so proud of 'AAAhhhhhhgggggggggg! What in Gods name is happening? Where am I? Why can't I move? Where is my body?AAAAhhhhhhhhgggggg!'. This discombobulated collection of thoughts are all that roamed my mind for the next couple of minutes.

Once I had calmed down I made sure that I had some semblance of calm throughout my mind. I must admit, I have next to no knowledge on the arts of zen and meditation. I am proud to say that even without zen training, I had complete control over my mind... Probably.

Anyways, I finally got a little bit of self control over my body and I began to wake up. I slowly open my eyes, trying to get a sense of my location. My entire body feels weird, as if someone had just rearranged all the bones and muscles in my body.

I lift a wing up to rub my forehead to try and rub some sort of alertness into to my current state.

Wait... A wing?

I lift it up to my face and examine it closely. Lo and Behold, it is definitely my wing... Although, there is one slight problem... It is currently on fire. Now I definitely did not scream, seriously, I literally couldn't scream. It came out in a completely manly squawk. Nothing feminine about it. Nothing feminine at all...

I start flailing around, unfortunately I get tangled in a mass of bed-sheets and end up rolling onto the floor. Not the most commendable moment I know, but landing on a wing in an awkward position hurts... BAD. Thankfully I didn't seriously harm anything, but it'll probably hurt whenever I touch that spot on my wing for the next few days.

I winced in pain as my body tensed up.