Duality of Existence

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.