Duality of Existence

Chapters

Questions of Complacency
Tension and Fear of the Unknown
Longing Heart of Affection

Questions of Complacency

CAW The cries of the roosters were enough to wake the moderate town of ponies from their slumber as mothers and fathers made breakfast for their daughters and sons and took it outside to a large assortment of tables where the children were either awake, rested and full of energy or children walked out, rubbing the sleep from their eyes with a smile. One pair of ponies looked back at their home and smirked as the mom went in. She was a mare with a coat of Burnt Sienna red, lively Magenta and heterochromatic eyes of blues, the right being a Deep Ocean and the left being Morning Cyan. Her attire consists of a modest skirt, bright blue top and cropped jean jacket. If it were for her ample sizes, the attire wouldn’t so provocative, but she didn’t care much how she looked as long as it didn’t affect her son’s life style or choices. Entering his room, she saw the kept hair that adorned his head and smiled, bemused to his sleeping habits. Shaking his should, she got a rise from him. “Come on mom, five more minutes...”

“Guess you’ll miss breakfast then, Betta Telium.” Her teasing riled the young form from bed. Now anyone with any fear in their hearts would be afraid of Betta. Why? He is a human. Born from a line of ponies would normally mean the human appearance would mellow to a more equine form, but it was discovered that Betta and the males before him had super fixed genes. The genetic coding and chromosome count would mean only the first child would be born as a human, with mild variations in hair color and eye color but not variations in skin pigmentation, lifespan or genitalia. While not clones, the males are so close to identical that anyone else would say they were. Now one would wonder if any human females were born. This is true though limited as the line consist mainly of males with around 20% of Betta’s lineage having human female members. Given average pony birth rates, a female would be more likely if it weren’t for human bodies having even sets of genes for either gender to be born. This also affected pony reproduction as the male and female count evened out in a couple areas but the humans of that generation stayed in one town at all times. For Betta it was a diverse town populace of Ponies, Gryphons, a few Zebra and some Deer, with their own government, military, economy and so on.

“What’s on the table?” Betta got up, scrubbing his hair with a cleansing gel before washing it out and sweeping it back with weak holding gel, as a few locks framed his face.

“Scruff brought Prench, the hoof brothers brought cinnamon rolls and a certain Zebra brought some bacon~.” Gentle Touch, sometimes contrary to her name, teased her son about his love interest, a Zebra with a flowing mane of black and white, a less than modest but well maintained body and a modest choice of clothing. That said, Betta was smitten as she wasn’t just understanding and open but also accepting of everyone she met. This was unbiased but he soon made friends with her and found she was a little less than innocent. Granted she was embarrassed but they never spoke of it out of nowhere or blatantly, that would be for when they date or after marriage, something a fifteen year old boy should not think on just yet.

“Mom, no.” He said as he got dressed in fresh clothes.

“Mom yes~.” Betta just hung his head, shaking it with an expression of shame before the two walked out. The mother and son sat down as Betta started grabbing food from other dishes, filling his with small portions to sample and intake everything before going for the favorites: Eggs, cinnamon rolls, bacon - that Gentle teased him about - Prench Toast sticks, hashbrowns and having fresh squeezed orange juice, morning tea and coffee. The ponies and gryphons did eat plenty, but for Betta, getting the calories was everything for surviving school or work and today was his work day.

Betta mainly dealt in part-time jobs and did the manual labor at pawn shops, shopping markets and a few store houses. To him, physical labor was an honest job that required a strong back and a well honed mind. Today was a day at the pawn shop as the gryphons had just made a firearm that can’t fire a shot anymore so they wanted to sell it. Betta would normally handle stock while his boss, Dusty Shelf, or his co-workers would handle the money transaction. Taking note of the firearm, Betta brought it to the work bench and carefully took it apart, noting every little detail in the gun. The first thing he noticed one he could see the chambers was the amount of rust. Cleaning the chamber would not be an issue but the security of the shells would be if the chamber doesn’t hold them firm. Placing the parts in assortment, he took note of the pieces and even bolts that would need replacement before the item could go on display.

Most of the bolts were in fair shape but any loose parts can damage a good craft, so everything was documented and marked. This was a habit he got into after failing to meet expectations at a younger age and started doing everything thoroughly since he felt anything less would get him an earful. So every part of the gun was documented and a photo taken to go with the list in the folder. Next step was restoration, starting with deep cleaning. Cleaning the parts would help Betta determine salvage quality and the barrel was most likely to go as the bore of any gun needs to be 95% intact. This would not be true as the barrel had more rust than bore so it would need to be cleaned and shipped to the minotaur or gryphons for processing. The trigger was salvageable as gun parts can be made to fit in town. The chamber cylinder would be saved as well as there were no cracks or openings that would ruin the piece. Finally was the trigger mechanism. It would need a couple replacements but for the most part, the shop got a good bargain. Crossing out the parts that were not needed, Betta posted the list on a board and went back to the bench to finish restoring another work. This was a blade that was brought in last week and Betta had been working diligently to restore it, cleaning the blade, adding material and bringing the blade to a clean edge. The easy part was assembling the handle, which he finished in minutes after getting the materials and brought it out, setting it on the shelf for display.

Finishing work at the pawn shop, he headed to the blacksmith shop to finish a request for a customer, commissioning the shop to make a sturdy weapon that can withstand a dragon’s breath. The mineral for a task was found deep underground in volcanic regions, but it was far from dangerous to obtain, just hot… unless you fell in the magma. Once gathered and heated, Betta and the shop worked on that sword nonstop, using all the man power they had to get the weapon ready for delivery and use. It took almost a month to form the blade given the minerals used but the shaping was minimal thanks to the bevel work and grinding the edge was just as easy. Once finished, the shop packed it securely and shipped it off to its customer. The shop does commissions as well as personal projects, of which five belong to Betta while another 63 were made and owned by the other shop workers. Betta was best at making blades, staffs, hammers and a few claws but struggled with axes, intricately designed weapons and could not grasp advanced techniques required for what is called Gold Smith, or smithing jewelry.

No job, part-time or even full time, came close to physical labor and thorough work. Betta didn’t become the town’s backbone but he was certainly well loved among the residence. Later on, taking his lunch break, the same Zebra from earlier, his crush, sat next to him, fiddling with her hair. “So… how’s work?”

“You mean how’s works?” She pushed him lightly from the tease but she loved his teasing as it was his way of showing he cared. “But work is good. The shops are a close knit community helping one another. I tell you, if it weren’t for them, I’d be a bum for the rest of my life.” He looked back at his lunch but he didn’t touch it.

“Is something wrong?” She asked him, noticing his lack of eating as a sign of confusion.

“Uzuri, you ever wonder if your family is keeping something from you?” The human handyman questioned.

“Sometimes. I asked mother about humans and she said she knew little of them, but she and father are keeping something from me, as I see them pray to a shape that looked like a face.” The zebra mare answered with vigor and worry. “I wonder if the humans did something to help our kind or if there is a dark secret they dare not rile.Why ask me?”

“My family has a human line lineage, and they had jobs in foreign military, diplomatic affairs and even taught a history different from yours.” He looked up and over the horizon with a sad expression. “I’m just a handyman for a small town with its own system like the others. I wonder if… I’m wasting my talents, time or disgracing my family.”

Uzuri put a hand on Betta’s cheek. “Betta, look at me. You are one being. We have ponies, gryphons, zebras and even dragons teaching the history we were shown for hundreds of years. As far as we know, war and diplomacy weren’t the only things your family did. They helped build cities, taught children and raised families, many not being in the military. So do not worry Betta. You are, like others before you, a shining beacon of humanity’s best.” Betta smiled as the two shared in a loving embrace and a tender moment.

Later on, Betta heads back to work and the pawn shop to take inventory for the day, writing down and marking off anything that had been or sold that day. Once finished he headed to the forge to finish up a personal project, a single bladed sword. The weapon was being made for warfare in mine, being made thick on purpose to act as an artillery blade. The blades of the royal guard were tested and it was discovered that they were brittle and poorly treated from forge to assembly. The town shared its knowledge on blacksmithing and the blades got better, if you could call cracking and bending better as opposed to shattering. Betta had made it his goal as a smith to make a blade that would not shatter or crack but bent and dent so as to be repairable. The blades dimensions were a fair bit thicker and tested constantly for weight and handling. As expected, the starting weight was unruly and constantly trimmed by sending the mass to the blade, trimming the blade down and retesting, making the blade better the handle and swing bit by bit until it was suitable to wield. Beveling the blade was no small feat but better than shortening the blade. He had so much left over material, he gather the remains for later to forge two shorter sword instead of a big one or daggers. The process would be easier to handle as he knew the thickness to bring the blades to for the craft. It wasn’t until night that the first blade was finished in bulk. After tempering, Betta sheathed the blade in a plain scabbard and set it with his other works. Getting home late at night, his mom was fast asleep and a heavy sleeper so he locked the door, then flopped on the bed after a quick shower.

The sun broke over that morning and today was, thankfully for Betta, a relaxing day. He skipped breakfast from working so late but he did get some oranges to hold off for a good lunch. Not wanting to stay in, Betta gets one of the older swords he made and heads to a clearing in Red Pine wood to train in swordsmanship. His movements, to trained fights, would be to open and punishing, as he used stances he saw but never practiced. One thing a soldier of weapon master would note is the basic rule of holding any weapon, Betta had a firm, and ready grip on the hand for flexibility and stability. If anything else, Betta had the basics for handling a sword but not using one. He did know better than to swing hard or wild since he didn’t know how to handle a blade, but he did go through the motion of attacks and parry, getting a little better though the improvement was negligible.

Not wanting to spend the whole day practicing, Betta headed back into town and looked at all of the weapons and tools that everyone was or would be using. He saw them as what they were, a weapon or a tool, but rumors and legends told of humans that wielded even the simple tools of harvest as deadly weapons of destruction. He could see that in some tools but he could not imagine farming tools as weapons. Was he a pacifist? Was he to strict on his information? Was he just against violence? His head hurt having to contemplate his thoughts without a clear answer. Frustrated, he left the shopping district and headed home, laying on the bed just to think. He never thought tools could be used as weapons, but that could be for his lack of hatred, blood lust or savagery. It confuses him since the tales of the humans prior were not monsters or war mongers but people of righteous fury that, from what he learned, had to adopt a lifestyle that wasn’t about fighting. “So how did they live without fighting?”

“Thinking about something?” The question, having suddenly broken the silence, startled Betta as he saw his mom in the doorway.

“Could you knock first?”

“I don’t see why I should, unless you were-”

“Do not go there!” Gentle just laughed before she and Betta took a moment to read the air.

“You have questions don’t you?” He simply nodded and she sat down next to him. “Princess Luna went through a lot of trouble to keep the name of the first human from getting blemished, but with the efforts of the other races, his name remains untarnished.”

“But aren’t ponies afraid of humans?” Betta asked, scared his mother was just being brave for his sake.

“The ones that take Celestia’s word at face value are afraid because she refuses to tell the truth.” Gentle grabbed her son’s hand. “Betta, humans are equal parts good and bad, complex yet simple. The are a paradox unto themselves that no one race can understand without help. Your dad was a warrior, yes, but he was also a husband, friend and father when you were born. He was fighting for his family and his morality. He never fought for nations or for gods. He fought for the living and he would never take a life unless his was threatened.

“But what about the first human?” Betta asked in confusion.

“Technically the first human Equestria had seen, in a long time, wasn’t fully human. He was augmented, chaotic and ever changing, but not evil like Celestia tried to make him out to be. He was preparing for a threat that he subsequently made without knowing. His intention was pure, but the execution had already done the damage. He made up for that blunder by sealing most if not all of the creatures that were made.”

“So he made a mistake and made up for it?”

“As best he could. Equestria will never forget his mistake but they will also never forget his sacrifice. Those monsters are sealed and the keys lost to time, never to open the door to evil. Now the first real human, surprisingly, came from an egg that was big enough to house the infant. When he was born, his family had moved to a different nation to escape Celestia and due to a treaty, Celestia could not pursue without starting war. The human grew up, had a human child and more children as the race mated with. That human then did the same and for years only one human was born at a time.”

“Is that also the reason the male and female ratio evened out?”

“Yes. Thanks to the human’s genetics, male and female ratios evened out because the birthrate of male and female was even with the human’s genes, now present in many races. When the nations learned of this, they thanked the first human for being the solution to the population and gender problem. Now humans are accepted but because only one human is born at a time, they are not very present.”

“What powers did the augmented human have?”

Gentle just smirked and chuckled before answering. “All of them.”

Betta blanched. “HE WAS A GOD!”

Gentle laughed which confused Betta greatly before calming down. “No no. He can combine abilities he’s gained to give the illusion of Godhood but in reality he could possess every power imaginable if given time to analyze or absorb it.”

“So… for him to become a god…?”

“He’d have to live as long, become one or absorb one.” Gentle lay back. “He actually took precautions to live a long time, but his desire to fast track to godhood blew up in his face from what I understand. I guess humans didn’t inherit that from him as such a mindset could be a weakness, leaving humans to find their own way.” She looked at her son with a gentle smile. “So don’t worry about being a warrior, builder or teacher. Worry about being you.” She kissed Betta on the forehead much to his charging as Gentle left the room before he could say anything.

Later that night, Betta couldn’t get to sleep, his mind a race with thoughts concerning the story he heard. Was it possible to be like the others humans and how? He would need a disguise but what could he wear that wouldn’t make him look like a monster. Most ponies were afraid of humans because of Celestia feeding them lies for hundreds of years and the ones who knew the truth had never talked to other ponies. He wanted to see the pony towns and gauge their reaction to him when he’s disguised and when he’s not. He wanted to know the truth from the lie. Finally having enough headache, he left the house and went to the workshop, having the key to get into the forge. Putting together a simple billot, Betta blended a huge piece of metal to start learning ingrave work for his weapons. He had ideas on what to put on the weapons he had but without the training, he’d need to learn the basics and improve on it with his co-workers before improving as he went. Aside from art, forging was Betta’s way of meditating as the sound of metal was like a short song for him to think to.

Halfway through the carving, Betta thought of something that would be a strong question to everything his mother said. “Does Celestia hate humans for no reason or did she have her own reasons?” The question was more of questioning Celestia’s human hate directly. Did Celestia have a grounded reason for hating humans or did she have a biased reason. Were humans so aggressive she exiled or killed them or did humans leave because of her hatred for whatever reason. No one knew the true reason Celestia hated humans and this would need to be answered in detail or Betta was only going to have another headache. His mind made up, he went to the bench and drew up and line dragon for the single edge sword. The chisel would need to be from the marrow of a dragons bones, imported from the many dragon lands via their teeth. Much like the dragons, the marrow has defined properties for a number of uses if made into chisels as there is not a lot of marrow to begin with. The only question was what would fit the blade the most. Pulling out a teal chisel, Betta carefully engraved the line dragon onto the sword using the template he drew, attempting to pattern the whole ridge of the sword on both sides. The work was slow and steady as each gentle knock of the hammer slowly endowed the sword with the element of the dragon held within the chisel. The dragon shape, while a bit redundant, is aptly appropriate as dragons are seen as fierce though, like Gryphons, the grown dragons have a sense of honor by refusing to fight those they deem weaker than themselves while the younger drakes still have issues to sort out or get beaten out of them. The humans too were seen as fierce fighters and made weapons of tradition that the gryphons were proud of and fought with an instinct that would make said species bow to the human’s feet out of respect. With this thought, Betta had another question about humans. How far did their teachings spread, did a few of them practice polygamy or is Betta the only other human, period? He knew the human genes were super fixed for the first child, but did the humans practice polygamy at some point, resulting in multiple children. He had not seen another human in town so his dad was a monogamy practitioner but what about his grandfather or fathers before him? How many first born humans exist today? If he met them, he’d help them but for now, ne needed to get ready for a journey. By the time he finished the engraving on both sides of the ridge, a breeze could be felt off the blade. When he held it, the breeze grew slightly. The sheath would need to be remade for this sword and there was a tree that could likely handle that.

Heading in to the nearby forest, still full of drive to finish his project, a grabbed a large branch from the timberbane tree, one of the few trees that has an effect of repelling timberwolves and even dispelling their magic if injected. He had no time to make the sheath so he cut a piece and left it to carve later.

Heading to his school, and thankfully before the bell for class, Betta started the long day of education and was regretting not getting sleep as his body, while it was running on adrenaline, was running low after lunch as he started to doze off, losing a few minutes of class at a time for his last three classes. After class ended, he got his teachers and asked for the notes to go over later from his slipping attention from lack of sleep. Most individuals would be to proud or even ashamed to say that, and for Betta it was no different but with how tired he was, he was simply too tired to give a fuck and so he got his notes and went straight home to crash. Waking up around dinner at the smell of food, he left the house for the tables and took his seat next to Uzuri without noticing before the fragrant smell of strawberry hit his nose and he was a blushing mess. “Why are you so nervous around me? Afraid I’ll bite?” She whispered in his ear teasingly.

“My mom.” His deadpanned embarrassment was met when they saw her giving them thumbs up and the two attempted to hide their faces. “She’s always like this.”

“Good thing she’s worried about you having kids.” She joked smiling.

“She’s more scared I’ll either dump them on her or keep them to ourselves.” The couple shared a laugh at the latter though with the image of a crying Gentle begging to see her grandbabies.

“Oh sweet heaven she may be the one to spoil them.” Uzuri remarked still giggling.

“Oh dear lords.” Uzuri laughed at Betta’s exasperated remark as the human shook his head.

“Oh come on, I’m just teasing.” The zebra playfully pushed her bf.

“Uzuri, many things I’ll let you tease about but never my mother and children. Please.”

“Okay, I’ll stop, Magic Fingers.” Uzuri’s mention of the nickname made Betta hide his blushing face, still ashamed of the nickname given by his mother for catching Betta giving Uzuri a full-body massage. The zebra giggled before she and Betta enjoyed supper filled with simple recipe foods. After supper Betta headed back to the shop to finish his project only to find his co-worker their smiling. They showed him his now completed project, explaining how creative he was choosing wind for the sword and his common knowledge of using magic seals or cancels as sheaths for such weapons. He told his co-workers at the forge and pawn shops what he was doing and said he’d be gone for too long so to let him go. They were a bit sad to see him go as his developed skills were hard to teach but they were happy he was doing something for his happiness.

He later called for Uzuri’s parents so he could have a word with Uzuri, her parents and his mother.

“What’s this about Betta?” Gentle asked, a little worried but for the likely wrong reason. “Are and Betta-”

“I’m stopping you right there mother. Me and Uzuri are not eloping. I plan for marriage, not surprises.” The mentioned zebra blushed bashfully. “No, I’m heading on a pilgrimage.”

“What?!” Uzuri and Gentle shouted in unison. “Betta is someone harassing you at school? I swear if some is hurting you I’ll buck their-

“MOM!” The sudden tone silence the raging mare. “I’m not leaving because I’m being bullied or because Uzuri doesn’t impress me, before anyone brings that up, or any other reason. I’m heading out of town because I need answers.” The current party looked bewildered. “I feel like I’m hiding in my own home, complacent with my life without knowing why. Why does Celestia really hate humans, why are most ponies afraid of humans? Am I hiding from her or myself? I need answers from too many questions that I have for anyone to tolerate, so I need to find the answers myself.” Gentle had an expression that Betta thought would turn to anger before she smiled, almost sad as she went to another room. Uzuri and Betta shared a sad hug before Gentle returned with a box.

“You’re father said you’d have questions. I never knew why until today. He told me to keep this for you. I was told to give it to you when you were heading out but I was going to give it to you for your eighteenth birthday. Now I know why he left it.” As Gentle talked, Betta opened the box and pulled out a black coat with indigo interior. It fit loosely around him, having four long tails that start at the hips, a large hood and detailed to look like a formal suit with brass buttons for fashion. The human smiled, almost crying as he missed his father dearly, wondering where he went. He brought his mother into a hug, tears slipping from his eyes.

“Thanks mom.”

“No problem baby. Now you be safe and come back safe.” He smiled. “And you better be back to marry Uzuri you hear.” The human put his hood up and went for the door as everyone giggled.

“Mom.” She looked at her son with a smile. “Thank you, for everything.” He looked at Uzuri next. “If you’re married when I return, punch me.”

“Oh I’ll punch you if you make me wait.” The two giggled as she stole a kiss before Betta left the house. After collecting the sword, Betta left the town for answers.

Tension and Fear of the Unknown

A few hours had passed since entering Red Pine Woods and Betta had his coat done up, hood up and blade ready to draw. He wasn’t a master swordsman and being such would require teachings and experience he can’t call upon at a whim. If something attacked him, he’d need to evade, attack, evade and counter attack until the fight ends, end it in one draw of his sword or run and never look back until he finds a place to hole up for a while. Heading through Red Pine was peaceful during the day with only a few dangerous creatures coming out at night. At least he won’t be fighting any bugs the size of a pony anytime soon as such a meeting would make him drop everything and go home in mild shame and mostly terror, though meeting a few wouldn’t be so bad as something like a rhino or stag beetle is passive like sleeping children. Taking the time to practice some swordplay, Betta drew his sword and started to draw and swing the blade as quickly as possible while walking, taking care to make it like he was actually trying to cut something. Swinging a sword while in a stance is done to hone battle skills and prepare for the next lesson, swinging a sword while walking allows for diverse and perhaps advance kinesthetic flexibility and development.

Entering to the furthest point into the forest, as per the joke he was told, Betta toke a seat on a dry uproot to think about how he was going to get to Celestia in the first place. He would need to travel to the far south of his town until reaching the mountain Canterlot rests on, but not before going through a few pony establishments first, but not before crossing the Forsaken forest or else go the long way around to avoid the danger. Heading into the forest, Betta had his sword drawn and at the ready, recalling the stories he’d heard of the forest as a child. The stories were the reason he first hugged Uzuri before immediately backing off and the children laughing for him being scared before Gentle got her vengeance by telling a story of a spirit baring nothing but a pony’s face for its appearance and how it ate little colts and fillies who tortured others, using the same torture to scare the child until it bit out your eyes, then ears then the rest of you. Parents did not like Gentle doing that and talked about Betta getting tougher skin before Mama Touch proved how tough her own skin was. She was a gentle mare but that did not mean she was without violence.

Just reminiscing on the past made Betta drop his defense as he heard something move around him. He heard stories of Timberwolves from the Everfree forest further south but Forsaken was home to far worse, creatures of the dead of all kinds from the remains of corpses to spirits of the damned. Drawing his sword, Betta held the blade straight up, closing his eyes to call upon the wind of the sword as the air kicked up, dispelling the mist and fog as he opened his eyes, seeing further and wishing he hadn’t. Standing on five twisted legs, was the mutilated body of attached corpses the smell of decay filling the air from the settled wind the Betta almost vomited from the stench. Tapping the swords power again, the wind cycled the smell of rot from the human’s nose as Betta saw the beast before him. It stood in five legs, three with hooves and two with claws. One arm with moderate and had two forelimbs while the other was massive with stumps for fingers. The chest had a mouth lined with teeth and wings on the back but the head was the most alerting. It was suspended by a cable of flesh, contorted in an expression of terror as it seemed to rasp a scream, shaking the human for a moment before he did something unusual in this situation. Holding the sword up, his hands at his belly, he closed his eyes and whispered. “Fang of the wind, born of the air, open the path to slay this monster and lay to rest the remains it has desecrated with a powerful torrent that shall reem the defiler of its life.” The air became visible around the blade as the smell of decay took color in a horrid green and purple as Betta’s air took the color of a pale blue. The air of the two came together and Betta could hear a noise, a rip in the open space. The whole time this was happening, the beast was waiting for the human to run or drop his guard. The flesh looked strong but the stitch job was weak so it had to rely on scare and fear tactics to kill its prey. The human opened his eyes as the beast prepared to charge before the sword was raised over Betta’s head. He slashed down and the wind from the sword fired into the area of the clashing winds and bright torrents of powerful wind erupted, ripping the body to scraps as the spirit was revealed and destroyed for defiling the dead.

Sheathing his sword, the sound of hoofsteps could be heard but instead of another beast, Betta saw a small group of ponies with axes, pickaxes and whatever else they had, all with unusual stock designs. “What manner of weapon was that?” An old pony asked no one.

“You think he’s related to Shale Stone the Bomber?” A stallion asked in awe and fear.

“He looks too handsome and mysterious. Maybe a student?” A mare commented none to subtly that she was interested in the hooded human.

“Shale never took on an apprentice.” The old stallion replied sharply before approaching the human. “Young man, surely there are better routes than going through the Forsaken forest. Our village had to traverse this path for one of its mines, but you didn’t need that much danger.”

“I have business to the south of here in Canterlot. I need answers to something.” Betta answered keeping his face hidden, not knowing and not risking the ponies’ fright to humans.

“Well you’re better off spending some time in our village. We have tools and weapons to help traverse this land.” The old stallion walked off and Betta started walking before a hand grabbed his leg. He quickly cut the limb and saw some of the flesh still on his ankle. Quickly catching up, he requested to see a medic only for them both to see that his ankle was clean but the worn fabric was evident of claws and scales. Dismissing it for now, Betta headed out into town to look for this Shale. By the town’s word, he was an inventive builder for the mining occupation, having made all manner of mining tools from pickaxes that can blast rock to axes that can break it with no wind up from the owner and vise-versa.

The human spent time in the town, thankful no one knew he was a human - even the clinic didn’t remove his clothing, which was a huge help - trying to find Shale the Bomber. He was confused at how such a well known builder would not have a shop. This thought was interrupted when the ground shook suddenly. No one looked alarmed except for Betta before a look around said what was happened, why and where. He walked up to the old stallion from before. “Excuse me.” The elderly male turned around to meet the human eye to eye. “I assume from the tremors that Shale is underground, correct?”

“Yes. He tests his inventions underground for our safety so he can find the limit of his tools. That tremor says he was testing a prototype.” The old man started to walk, beckoning Betta to follow. Once to a door in the ground, the old man left as Betta opened the shaft and descended several meters below ground before entering an open chamber. Inside he saw almost nothing, even with the torches set. Inside was also a glowing stone that casted brilliant light around the cave.

Walking in a few steps, there was a sudden yell and Betta held his sheath up, blocking a pointed end from caving his skull in. Quickly observing his assailant, he noted the attacker to be an old male unicorn. “Who are you? Who sent you?”

“What are you on about?!” Betta yelled in confusion, surprised he was holding back what looked like a heavy weapon.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know your type, sent to take what ain’t yours then come back when it works. I heard about a new visitor, that’s why I set off my latest work, but you seem to be determined to take my craft.” Shale was obviously scared, something is close by or he was mugged. “Where are you from?”

“Fix your eyes old man, I’m from Forge Hills.” Betta defended.

“Liar. That sword used strong wind from what I hear. Even the best smiths can’t make that good an enchanted sword.” Shale’s weapon, which appeared to be a pickaxe, changed chambers as the blade heated to a brilliant light. “Now tell the truth.

“What more truth do you need - my name?!”

“It don’t matter what your name is, you came in here to steal!” The axe grew brighter before Betta covered his face, guarding it as the axe seemed to explode when it reality it just discharged from an overload. “Darn blast it!” The old man threw his pickaxe to the ground. “Piece of junk! No matter what I make the darn thing from, none of the stocks or blades can handle the darn magic crystals.”

“Would seeing my blade give you an idea then?” The old man looked to see Betta holding the sheath and drew the blade. Looking at the blade, he was confused to feel very little magic. It was there, engraved via the line dragon on the ridge but there wasn’t much wind.

The man offered the blade back and when Betta took it, the wind grew stronger before the blade was sheathed. “Couldn’t be…” Shale looked shocked. “Young man, take hold of that pickaxe would you?” Betta looked confused and even defensive as he took hold of the pickaxe and the crystals seemed to even out and agree with each other. “Hmmm…” The old stallion walked up to see his pickaxe and found that the chamber in use was glowing strongly, as the power was received to the weapon but without overload. “Young man, what magic do you think exists?” The human looked up, puzzled. “What your body is using, subconsciously, is Slayer Magic. In short, the way your body is using it for the pickaxe, is taking in the element in the chamber, amplifying it and sending it back into the weapon itself, boosting yourself and, by entension, the weapon without feedback or overload. This also seems to nullify the other crystals a small bit to keep you from absorbing too many magical elements. It seems my tool needs some work but I am inspired by what action to take.” Shale held his hand out. “If I may young man.” Betta handed the tool back as Shale took it to his workbench.

“So why were you so convinced I was a spy or thief then just drop the accusation?” Betta asked exasperated.

“My work is meant for the mines and some fool in the government heard of my exploits and wants me to make a weapon. This pickaxe is meant to be more of a multi-tool but those shield coats want to turn my work into a new weapon for no reason other than shaft measuring.” Shale started taking it apart. “I swear, my daughter and son have to put up with too many stupid ponies wanting to making something into what it was never meant to be. Thank the Metal they quit because of it.”

“The Metal?”

Shale turned back to the human. “The Battle of Steel Mountain or Metal Saviors, take your pick. The story goes that an augmented human tried to prepare for a threat his kind faced, but his preparations accidentally made the threat when he was trying to prepare for it too quickly and his darker nature to control of his craft. Soon, some of his craft fought back and sealed all of itself in many places across the world. This has had a beneficial side-effect on the minerals in some of the mines and cave we found, but the effect is so wide spread we’ll never find the vaults themselves, and thank goodness for that.”

“So why make the multi-pick?” Betta asked watching the stallion work with interest.

“I like that name.” Shale perked up before returning to work. “Anyway, the reason I made this pick was to aid in mining in all of its phases, blasting, clearing, moving, cleaning and so on. This pickaxe will simplify the process into one tool, well one of many.”

“What does it do then?”

“It uses magic crystals of varying elements to boost the weapon’s strength or give it an elemental power. But everything it uses, no matter the material, overloads the tool and it detonates, which will cause harm to the user if this isn’t rectified.” The inventor replaced the blades and reloaded the chamber with an empty chamber slot in the middle. “There we go.” The pick of the tool was replaced with a geometrically pointed tip and a blade the tool like a scythe while the back of the pick was like an industrial pickaxe where the head is flat and spread, likely as the chambers could only power one head given the design of shaft so Shale picked the actual pick of the axe to augment with the magic stones.

“The design is ingenious, but you seem to be a bit sad.” Shale sighed at Betta’s words.

“Using crystals is a big waste of time. Once the power drains it takes forever to recharge with the same power or a different one.” The stallion just slumped.

“Have you tried increasing the surface area?”

“Then the chamber would need to be filled with one crystal that takes longer to charge!” The miner screamed.

“And crystal dust?”

“I’ve-!” Shale calmed immediately. “Never tried that.” He looked around. “Listen, I want you to do something for me. Complete the task and you’ll get the axe for free but the Dust shells will cost.”

“What do you need done.”

“I need you to take a party and head into the forsaken mines to get me some materials. That pickaxe you’re holding has materials made from the remains of the monsters inside, but with our tools losing effectiveness, no thanks to a lorge horde setting up nest in that mine, and so the town is having to switch to metals for our tools. We’re running short on stock and it’s getting worrisome. This will give me time to make the Dust shells, which may help the new pickaxe and then some for the future. Help us and you get the axe and can come and go in my shop for tools and gear as you wish.” Betta nodded as he climbed the shaft to the surface and headed for the town hall to place a request for a party in Shale’s name. Ponies were eager to work with him until they saw that the destination was the Forsaken Mines. The crowd thinned to four ponies, covered head to toe in plate-mail with chainmail underneath. They carried swords of unique make and material and each pony also had a different build.

“Why the Forsaken Mines?” The middle height pony asked, his voice indicating a male.

“It was a request from Shale, said this town is having to dig into its metal for everything instead of the materials obtained from the monsters inside.” Betta answered professionally.

“That’s correct. We’re using our metal for tools instead of building and the lack of metal leaves us worried about our buildings and maintenance.” The shorter one spoke, the horn and lighter voice telling of a female unicorn.

“Are you sure you want to do this. The mines are fraught with monsters as small and numerous as hungry roaches and some coming close to being as big as the average dragon.” Another female, this one a pegasus, almost mocked with joy.

“Spoken like a mare who’s willing to crush nuts to get a job done or for sick kicks, you four better be ready right now because we’re heading out.” The four just held up their swords as the shorter male led the way, the other three of the party guarding their client, well other two as the pegasus was bored. “So why take such a dangerous job. We get young males trying to impress mares for a bedroom but is this really necessary?”

“I wouldn’t have taken the job if this axe wasn’t the prize. The chamber design has me rethinking the design of my sword.” Betta answered looking over the sword and axe.

“Can it you two. We need to be on alert. As we approach the cave the volume of beasts will grow so no slouching.” The stallion called firmly as he drew his sword, quickly killing what appear to be a snake that had grow far bigger than allowed with complex and thick scales adorning the body like armor. The priority was to clear the mines for metals and material so the group would leave that for later.

Coming up to the cave entrance, well more accurately about ten feet off, the entrance he massive canines at the mouth of the mines. They were sleeping, but sharper senses means getting nasty and staying quiet or get into a fight. The four ponies used hand-eye communication that confused Betta so much he didn’t know what they were planning and with him out of the loop and with any noise able to wake the wolves he had to stay quiet or risk a fight, which was concerning him greatly. They looked to him and drew their blades before looking at the wolves. Taking his stance, the team saw him and nodded, they agreed a fight was the only thing they could go for as sneaking in was too risking and waking them up while they were inside would be worse.

The largest pony pulls out his weapon, a massive warhammer, and the wolves wake from the disturbance but not before two of them get their skulls crushed in. The pegasus pulls out a bow and flies high while the unicorn casts spells over the full party and a few offensive magic to keep the wolves of the melee fighters. Betta stode ground close to the caster and changed chambers before he and the axehead glowed a fluorescent blue. As if he teleported, Betta swiftly moved behind the unicorn and pierced the wolf’s head, going straight to and through the brain and the shock rupturing the spine, killing it in one motion. While it looked like teleportation, it was actually increased reaction time, both magicly and physically. The lack of said increase would make him to slow to save the mare. Switching between the blue and a brilliant yellow, Betta and the team of ponies were finished with the wolves in minutes.

Entering the cave, they all smelled the foul air. The cave must have large bugs and reptiles secreting acid and foul lubricants from their bodies. The pungent odor made Betta gag a bit before the unicorn mare offered a mask, which cut the smell of the toxins greatly. Heading in, the encountered a large spider adorned in bright, contrasting colors.The unicorn immediately bombarded the arachnid with magic beams as the spider was knocked out, likely paralisis. “My sister is not a fan of many bugs.”

“I swear to Faust if I see a centipede I am running out.” The aforementioned sister said in protest. Continuing forward after a brief fight amongst themselves, the party came across a large cave opening of massive creatures from mammals to insects, but they weren’t peaceful with each other. “Ew. Ideas brother?”

“Use their friction to our advantage, wittle their numbers before going for the kill.” They nodded as the unicorn cast a cloak and stealth spell and got behind the bug. Nocking an arrow, she pick an animal and fired before moving back to her spot. The arrow hi the animal and the frenzy began. The unicorn was navigating the wall, staying close to even temperature surfaces as she made her way back to the party. Perching themselves above the fight, the lizards caught wind of the smell of the fight and got in on it. As long as the party did not get involved, the village would be getting a massive influx of materials for weeks. After some minutes passed, the cave was almost motionless with only a few monsters left and the party pounced, killing the remaining creatures and silencing the cave. The pegasus mare was the first first to leave, informing her party she’d bring the town to collect the materials.

A half hour passes and cart after cart was entering and leaving the cave as the corpses were hauled into town. Furnaces lit ablaze as the towns folk cheered and drank while the smiths worked in renewed delight. “Well sonny, you earned that pickaxe but I have something for your sword.” Shale pulled out a handle and suba that had two revolving chambers. “Something to help you on your travels.” The old man shook the human’s hand and went back underground.

As Betta enjoyed his time, the town began to cheer. “Cheers for the new arrival, his team and our restored peace!” The town cheered loud as a mare approached the human.

“You know stranger, we never got your name nor see your handsome face.” She began wrapping her arms around him when he evaded. “Hard to get huh?” The mare began going for the hood as she attempted to see Betta’s face, the human afraid of their reaction. As he tried avoiding the mare, others noticed his running away and laughed as she was, thankfully, no closer to unmasking him but one pony got the drop on him, the unicorn from his party earlier, as everyone present saw his face and he stood there, frozen with fear of what may befall him in an unknown town.

Longing Heart of Affection

Author's Note

Apologies for taking so long, not sure, but I hit a writers block given what Betta would have to encounter. Thanks to a friend though, my writer's block has been lifted enough I can pace the story a bit better. Enjoy the good feels and I'll see you all again.

Longing Heart of Affection

“You’re a… human...?” The town was in shock and Betta was frozen in place. Both parties were unable to decide on an action to take, fear from the human and the now jittery nerves of the town. No one moved, no one spoke and nary a breath was heard until the tension was broken.

“Hey, is that young’n still in town!” Everyone turned to see Shale come up with a new pickaxe in his possession. The stock, blades and newly designed chamber looked more akin to a modern take on a traditional tool of harvest as the head was shorter while the pick was longer. The design of the stock was changed as the second handle was shorter and placed behind the head and the revolving chamber rest to the the side of the head and pick instead of being positioned behind the pick. “Well!? Where is he?! I ain’t got all day here!” One of the townsfolk pointed to Betta. “So you’re human, huh?” The old stallion stroked his chin. “Well I figured as much.”

“WHAT?!” The whole town screamed.

“None of you got eyes?” The inventor screamed. “A human ain’t got magic. I knew he was human when I saw him wield my Multi-pick and his sword. He can absorb and redirect all magic with twice the kick. I knew he was human when I examined his sword, thinking it was too strong to be normal but he was the one making it that strong.” The old stallion walked up to Betta and extended a hand. “I’ll be taking the prototype back. This new Multi-pick here is much more stable but given your limits I only gave the tool three chambers, two for you and one for it.” Betta looked at the old model, thinking on the points to keep it with too few to convince him so he handed the pickaxe and received the Multi-pick.

Upon a closer look, the pick and head looked like a multitool as the head was a hammer with the pick retaining a blade from the old design with a blunted tip instead of a point. The stock was long, reached to a wedge, had an additional handle for extra more cutting surface to the pick’s blade and the pieces were firmly fastened to a fixed cylinder with three chambers, each connected to a different portion of the tool: one for the pick, one for the head and one for the stock. Whatever Shale was thinking, he made an all-purpose tool and weapon with a design that Betta somehow felt was optimal. “Why did you decrease the chamber count?” The old stallion held up a shell of crushed blue crystal. “Wait what?”

“I discovered that preloaded Dust would be a drawback as every job has different demands, but after seeing you and your blade and hearing of the danger, I optimized the design of the Multi-pick so the jobs it faces can be matched with interchangeable shells of magic, using magic crystals ground into dust though magic can be condensed into the same shape by a unicorn if skilled enough. The efficiency was increased, charge time was decreased and the charges can be used more than once if all three chambers are loaded. It’s ingenious, no? Plus, that head can double as a crushing weapon, given it is a hammer, while the pick and blades peirce and slash. The perfect multi-tool which has my signature stamp at the base of the stock, just above the pommel.” Sure enough, there was a stamp, an elongated triangle with jagged lining, above a pommel design that allowed it to double as a grip. “Well give it wave.” Betta snapped back to reality and started to slowly move the weapon around in swings and pulls, spinning the blade and pulling close to him before settling on the pommel. “Hmm. May need an adjustment, but those can wait. For now, you celebrate with the town.”

“But Shale, he’s-”

“I got eyes you jumpy whipper snapper but that don’t meant I can’t see good when I see no evil!” The town jumped back at his outburst and shrunk from his miny rant. “Did this boy sign on the job to save our town from disaster because he was kind? No. Did he tell anyone to join him or he’d kill someone here or blackmail anyone? No. This young man is neither charitable nor cruel. He let me see his blade but, for plausible reasons, he wasn’t going to let me keep it. He took my prototype, knowing what may happen and wanted to keep it. Whatever the reason, he took the danger and has a right to his reward. I offered him something better because I wanted to. Did he have to take it? No, but he did because it was better. We ponies have gotten so use to helping each other. Aside from me, no one here has ever asked for a reward or turned one down because we are being too gosh darn nice. Now before you take that the wrong way, you ask for what you earned, not demand for what people can’t pay.”

“So is he good or evil?” A stallion asked.

“WHERE YOU NOT LISTENING?!” The old pony popped the stallion on the head with the stock of the pick. “Darn it boy. All of you, if this human is so evil, why didn’t he attack us? Why didn’t he kill us? Why didn’t he, as history likes to say, rape our mares? Because even I know from meeting the young lad he ain’t like that pile of droppings!” The town jumped again from his yelling. “He ain’t waiting for us to drop our guard, he’s the one on guard! So shape up that sour attitude or all of pony kind will be labeled the biggest hypocrites in history! I’m out!”

The town and Betta watch in stunned silence as Shale walks back to his shop’s hatch and descends before a mare walked up with a mug in her hand, to Betta’s confusion. “We may not trust you entirely, but the old man has a point. We don’t extend a hand of compassion to one race we may as well hate them all.” Betta took the mug and she tapped her mug to his. “So let’s drink up, get wasted and puke up our hangovers tomorrow!” He smiled as he and the town smiled and cheered, getting back to the party.

The next morning, to no one’s surprise, the majority of the town was passed out from last night’s party and now the party attendees are waking up with migraines from the booze. The smell of breakfast stirred the human from his sleep as he found himself surrounded by mares. He started to shake them and saw that two of the ‘mares’ were feminine stallions. They all got up, too concerned about their migrain to care about the predicament before the smell of breakfast hit home, giving them all a generous wake as the party ponies now sat at tables. Betta was not liking the alcohol and it wasn’t loving him too much either as his head was killing him. A glass was set in front of him and he took a small swig of it. The taste was mildly rich with an undertone of sweet as he just took sips of the drink and a meal was brought out. From the look and smell, it was a plate of pancakes. Tearing off a smile bite with his fork, his found it was soft and fluffy before adding the melted butter and a generous fall of warm syrup, the sweet liquid permeating the cakes as they were nearly falling apart and turning into a half-mushy sweet cake. The human had gotten into cooking from his mother but never got heavy into experimenting after an incident regarding some pigeon breast and a gryphon, leaving the poor lad crying his eyes out while, unknown to him, the gryphon was apologizing to Gentle after the said mother beat the half-bird senseless over his overreaction to a nine-year-old child cooking a bird. After a warm heart-to-heart, Betta got back into cooking though he didn’t go the full distance from feeling the pressure of cooking from garden to table.

He enjoyed his moist pancakes with gusto and finished it off with the last sip of his ginger water and just mellowing in the after taste of sweet and warm syrup before looking back at the multi-tool in greater detail as opposed to last time. The sickle and blades flared out some like a wedge, likely a design choice so it had mass with the hammer adding mass for momentum, allowing the tool to act like a wedge. The hammer itself had low, rounded protrusions and was quite big but not absurd, contained to a proper size to wield. The two were meet in the middle, secured to each other and the fixed, three chamber cylinder between them. Below the chambers was a stock that was firmly secured to the base of the sickle, which extended down the tool for an unstoppable split unlike all other sickles. A secondary handle was added behind the extended blade under the large hammer for added grip and control with the heavy pommel at the base to balance some of its gravity to the stock. The stock was made from dark, treated wood and the sickle and hammer had simple markings along their faces toward the chamber caps. It was well designed, if a bit eccentric, but no less aesthetically pleasing to look at.

Taking the tool in hand, he walked out of the pub after leaving some of his bits to pay for the meal and left the tool at the door before heading back toward the forest. He turned around, giving the town a final look as a goodbye before heading into the Forsaken woods. With a new idea for his sword's reforge, the beasts were not too challenging but with no coordination to direct his next move, he was quick to run from the fight as the beasts gave chase. One landed in front of him as he raised his arms, thinking of defending himself as his arm felt strange for a moment. Within one motion, the sleeve was torn away but no blood emerged. Taking a look, his arm had gained scales and claws of a reptile, the toughness and density identical to a dragon’s claws. Dropping his weapons, not wanting to waste the chance to clear the crowd, he swiped the claws around him, ripping the beasts open with large, close cuts and quickly moved away, grabbing his weapon. The current mob of beasts fell as some blood got on Betta, before he attempted to wash it off to prevent and sickness.

Moving further along, this time running, he cleared the forest by the time the sun’s rise hit its apex and and began walking to catch his breath. Thinking about his recent days, he sat down and got some parchment and ink from his travel pack and began writing.

Hey mom,
Hope this letter gets to you before I send another in a couple days. I made it through the Forsaken Forest and got a town of acquaintances out of that trip along with a stand up - I’m going to say - friend. His name is Shale Stone. A bit coco given his age and just as creative with his work. He makes mining tools and I got to test his latest model. I’ll send a Capture Crystal and Analysis Shard with this letter so please deliver them to the smiths. I would like to see their work once I get back. I got into a party and woke up with mares and effeminate stallions a top me, so it was time to leave. I didn’t want any trouble between Uzuri and me. And yes I know what I’m saying but I already miss her company. It hurts me that I have to forsake that company for this journey. Tell her I love her for me will you.

Your son and Handy Man,
Betta Telium

P.S. If you embarrass that girl I will be cooking traditional Zebracan food when I get back.

Holding the two crystals that scanned the Multi-pick, they were put into a hollow cylinder before the town’s name and area were written on the metal along with the house address. Lighting up, it flew out of Betta’s hands as he continued on his way south.

Given the distance he would have to walk, Canterlot was going to be days away and there could be more towns along the path and now the Betta has discovered something unusual at best and dark at worst about himself he now had question that Celestia may not have answers to and he’d need someone who could answer him with a straight face what he is other than human. As far as he knew, no human has ever grown dragon scales and claws so he was worried of being a monster that Celestia wouldn’t give a second thought on killing. The human was scared but not for himself, but for his home should Celestia find out Forge Hills was harboring a human this whole time. Shaking the dark thought from his head, he continued on and came to a cliff face. Going around would be advisable but he didn’t have the time to pick. Calling on his claws, he felt his fingers shift and looked to see the claws where they should be. Stabbing them into the cliffside, Betta started climbing.

A cliff face on average would be around one hundred meters or higher depending on shifts from underground plates or even volcanic activity as a magma chamber is made underground by the said nearby volcano and with a lack of one, the former seemed more likely as it was almost smooth with only softly rounded protrusions. The effort was too much for the arms so Betta had to ditch his shoes and socks. Getting his claws ready, Betta made an inclined hole to keep the rain out and off of his shoes to keep them and his socks from getting ruined from rot or weather exposure. After they were secured, Betta accessed the dragon’s form again and his feet shifted, forming two massive fore-claws and a traction claw behind his heel as he resumed climbing with better ease, now even more worried about what his was if he wasn’t human.

Get to the top of the cliff, and crawling like a dragon for a few feet so as to not break the cliff edge and fall, Betta breathed a sigh of relief before relaxing his body’s changes as he regained his full human form. Heading further along, the young man saw a field of fruits, all having beautiful colors and smells like a rainbow of potential flavor. Looking further there was a table with assorted foods from cheeses to prepared foods and meals. As if to remind him, his stomach growled looking at the savoring meals from fruit folds, a vegetarian version of a gryphon’s taco, to a veggie pizza that most ponies made after the pizza of many other omnivores and carnivores. The spread was alluring but to be out here, Betta drew his sword as the wind blew around him, ready to act as a barrier. ‘All this food, good spread and a single house. Unless the resident comes out, I’m blasting this place down.’ He looked back and saw the Forsaken forest, just within sight but the cliffside was too high for most creatures to climb in one sitting, even Betta took a small breather going up.

“Darn it what is making such a ruckus out here?” The voice of an young mare came from the house and the source came into view. A slender mare with Ash Grey fur, Coal Black mane and a thin tail with hair of the same Coal Black growing from one side into a messy fluff. Her attire consisted of daisy duke shorts with fluffed bottoms, a white tank top under a blue checkered flannel and a ring on one of her ring fingers. “I come all the way out here and I still have vermin getting into my crops so what the Hay bale are you?”

“Honey, careful.” Another voice called this one too a mare and she was a Cotton Pink mare with Ocean Blue tipped Gum Pink mane and tail with a red left eye and blue right eye, wearing a Straw Yellow sundress and a ring on her ring finger matching the ring on the other mare. “He’s on edge from the forest.” The darker mare huffed. “Sorry about her, she gets real defensive over my safety when creatures come from the forest.”

“I don’t get defensive.” The ash mare protested.

The pink mare kissed the other as the ash coat got a dust of pink. “Yes you do Tanny.” ‘Tanny’ started playing with her mane. “Her name is Tanium. She’s the daughter of a Kirin and Bat pony but she got the Kirin’s strength in place of the absent horn.” The pink mare then got in Betta’s face as soon as his sword was sheathed. “And if you make fun of her, you’ll be my next roast for dinner you got me?” The human nodded scared at the otherwise off putting anger of the otherwise bubbly mare. “My name is Tender Love, nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure.” Betta answer with a mild hitch from fear.

“Well come inside, Tanny and I were about to have some lunch when you came along making that noise.” The mares walked in with Betta in tow, still a bit defensive but, figuring good manners, leaving his weapons at the door of a cozy house. The largest room was a hybrid of the living, dining and kitchen areas, with bathrooms and guest rooms on one side and bedrooms on the other with a bathroom off to the side. “Have a seat wherever. We’re just about to watch Knights of Stone. It’s a Soap Opera but I can’t help myself.” The bubbly mare got out some bowls and poured a bowl of noodles and broth before handing one to her wife and one to Betta before sitting next to her lady as the TV was turned on and turned down. “So where do you come from?”

“Forge Hills, just on the other side of Forsaken Forest.” Betta answered sipping the broth.

“Family?” Tanium asked, still apprehensive of their guest.

“Just my mother. Father left on a journey but hasn’t been back since. I do fear the worst, though I’m hoping he’s still alive.” Betta answered truthfully again.

“Any significant others?~” Tanium and Betta choked and hacked on their broth for the same question but different reasons.

“Why are you asking that?!” Tanium asked in exasperated shock.

“I’m teasing! I’m teasing!” The pink mare died laughing as the wife and guest just blushed and Tender calmed down. “But seriously, any marefriends or coltfriends?”

Betta blushed as he smiled. “Yeah, a zebra, Uzuri.”

“What do you like about her?” Tender asked with a smirk as her wife blushed. Tender always asked that question to gauge a person’s genuine love for someone.

“She’s expressive, caring, supportive, a good singer too. She likes to sing when she feels something strong, not all of her songs are cheery though, which is good but I’ve been on the receiving end of a few of them.” He had a smile as he remonised.

“How long have you known her?” Tanium asked.

“I’ve known her since we were kids. It wasn’t until our parents sat us down that we realized we were dancing around each other about love, course we were kids and it was a simple crush back then, but then she just shoved some flowers in my face and we went on the most awkward first date you could image.” Tender smiled at the young human and pat him on the head.

“Good. You’re faithful and wholesome. If you had said she was kind, funny and all that other stuff I would have kicked you out the door. But you know what she likes and care for her enough to know when she’s sour. You really do love her.” Tender and Tanium smiled as Betta smiled himself, a small but bright expression of joy.