Over the Edge and Through the Wood

Chapter 16

“Please, sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

Edited by: Biker_Dash

Troy was having an intense sense of deja vu. It hadn’t even been an hour since he had chased the wood wolves through the forest before he eventually lost track of the pack. Luckily, just as he was realizing he was actually lost, the zebra from before trotted up to him and waved again.

Eventually, he’d been able to communicate that he was lost, and she’d been kind enough to bring him back home. He swore the bridge had grown thicker again, and after some testing, was able to confirm it would still bear his weight and not catch on fire. The zebra had even been able to help with his discount Super Saiyan cosplay situation, creating some mixture that was able to slowly disperse the flames after she had gone for supplies. It was harrowing to experience, but hey, whatever works.

Now he was running from the purple one again, and she was on fire this time. She was also rapidly oscillating from screaming, to crying, which turned into scream-crying and then circling back around to screaming again. All of which in his opinion, was deeply unsettling. Seeing as dialogue was definitely no longer a viable option, he quickly vaulted over a low crumbling wall and booked it back across the castle lawn. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as his pursuer leaped over the obstruction, followed by the zebra, who in turn was followed by the lizard thing.

As Troy took stock of the situation, he rapidly concluded he had no idea how to proceed. Escape the deranged equine? She knows where you live. Escape into the forest? To what, get eaten? Those wooden wolves would definitely love to take another crack at it. Who knows, maybe the third time’s the charm? And would you look at that, good old Troy is already out of ideas. Fuck.

As he circled around to the main entrance, he remembered the booby traps deeper in. Now normally, Troy would insist on going slowly. At a speed with a lower likelihood of getting maimed by a rusty spike that’s been sitting in a wall for untold generations. However, as no other options were forthcoming, it was time to explore those ancient halls for someplace to hide. Which meant going balls deep, dick first, and at full ramming speed, straight into the unknown.

Again.

Hooray…

He turned and considered trying to slam the door in her face. Then he remembered she could teleport. He decided not to waste time and charged into the dingy castle. He was able to avoid the clearly marked traps of his earlier exploration. Unfortunately, the same went for his pursuer. But after this? It was in the hands of fate. As he ran past his final marked trap, he prepared for the worst and tried to avoid the areas where the traps seemed to congregate. Specifically, the center of the hallways and the walls. There were outliers here and there, but all he could really do was lengthen his stride and pray to the Almighty.

Unfortunately, either the J-man was screening his calls or the big guy upstairs was finding this situation far too entertaining to let it end so soon. Eventually, only after half a minute of evasive maneuvering, Troy felt as much as heard the ominous click as one of his footfalls landed on a section of brickwork that turned out to be a little too innocuous. He threw himself into a forward roll with the vain hope that maybe he wouldn’t be caught up in whatever ancient mechanism he’d just triggered.

Surprisingly enough it worked, as castle guests historically were expected to usually amble along at a speed appropriate for a casual stroll. As bolting through the hallways at a full sprint was typically seen as gauche at best, and a good reason to call the guards at worst. So, surprise surprise, whoever had engineered the trap had expected their victim to be adhering to proper niceties, and Troy was very much not, meaning the antiquated artificial ambuscade went off behind him. His impromptu combat roll allowed him to get a brief glance at the happenings, but against his better judgment, he found he had to just stop and stare.

His pursuer had been trapped in a giant transparent bubble. The sphere was covered in arcane glyphs that oscillated with energies Troy had no doubt were solidly camped in the ‘magic bullshit’ category, as a self-sustaining force field entrapped a now even more upset tiny horse. At least he assumed she was angrier judging by how many energy blasts she was letting loose in there. He hadn’t known she could do that. Good God, if she had remembered she could do that then this chase would have been way shorter.

At least it was over now. He watched her ram her horn into the glowing orb and bounce off. Troy worked on catching his breath as she stared him down. Before something changed, from her expression it was an epiphany of sorts, as her glare snapped to a semi-blank, ‘oh yeah duh’ look that rapidly morphed into a malevolent grin.

Troy didn’t have time to react as her horn ignited and she was suddenly right in front of him with a snapping CRACK. Troy had a single horrifying thought drift through the forefront of his mind.

Oh, right. She can do that.

And then she was back in the orb half a second later with another whipcrack of air.

This shocked her to a standstill.

For one full second.

Then she seemed to explode again and was probably screaming herself hoarse. At least that was what she was probably doing. No sound was coming through, but one had to assume the sphere tirade was epic in proportions. Meanwhile, while all this was happening, Troy tried to calm down a bit.

His heart hadn’t just skipped a beat when she pulled that teleport trick, it had done a whole damn river dance in his rib cage. He bent over, careful to not touch anything because he knew by now that any decorative wall sconce or innocuous piece of brickwork could lead to some kind of whammy. And it was only after he had got his breathing under control again that he looked up to see the now captive miniature menace was giving him the good ol’ mean mug. Upon seeing her mortal enemy had the audacity to return her gaze, she leaped at him, slamming on the side of the sphere.

Which shifted.

They both paused at that and looked at the base of the sphere, which appeared to be secured to its spot only with a small divot in the ground and the mercy of physics. They looked back up at the same time and Troy could practically see the gears turning behind her eyes as he did some math of his own.

She was trapped in a magic bubble that she couldn’t escape from easily. From what he’d seen, magic went haywire around him. So Troy + Bubble = Pop? He also remembered that direct contact with the stuff, really, REALLY hurt.

Troy turned on his heels as the zebra and lizard finally caught up with them, though the lizard got sucked into a wall sconce and fired up a pneumatic tube of some sort. Why or how that was functioning in a crumbling ancient castle was something Troy would have to ponder later as his tormentor, or in this case, T-orb-mentor was working herself free.

He barely turned the corner before he could hear the telltale sound of something rolling after him in pursuit.

Fuck.

The sound of the sphere banging against the walls was both startling and weird. It sounded like the tolling of a church bell but like it was put through a synthesizer with someone who had taken actual religious offense that the bass dial only went to ten and managed to somehow get it to the objectively correct position of twenty-seven. He could feel the fillings in his teeth shake loose with every minor impact, and whenever it slammed into something with full force it felt like his entire skeleton was vibrating out of alignment. Like every single bone was nudged a millimeter in a direction it wasn’t pointing the moment before.

Fuck this noise.

He started cutting through side rooms to dodge out of the way, doubling back, and even got lucky when a trap put him on the other side of the wall in a different hallway. Given the repeated banging of the war bells behind him, this did not please the pony girl. It gave him the breather he desperately needed after all the running. He angled in deeper into the Castle, it was harder to see now, even with all the natural light coming in from the holes in the ceiling. He had to be careful not to trip over debris, and it was slowing him down.

And then he arrived at a T-junction. He turned left, and the hallway came to a dead end, to the right, a collapsed passage. As Troy whirled around to backtrack, the dread gong rang as a purple demon slammed into the hall, contained but not restrained. She had him, and she knew it, he could see it in her eyes. Troy got ready to dodge when an idea struck him. It was full of unknowns, but he literally had his back to the wall.

He quickly undid his belt, sending his sheathed knife and axe to the ground. Then with a motion familiar to locker rooms worlds over, Troy snapped the worn belt forward as the doom orb approached with maximum velocity.

The next few seconds seemed to stretch into individual eternities as with the sound of a popping balloon, the containment orb vanished. As his pursuer sailed past, she and he locked eyes.

Honestly, Troy would have expected some rage or indignation, but instead, it was an expression more akin to an uncomprehending gawp. Clearly, she hadn’t expected that result either as momentum proved herself an unforgiving mistress to all as the pony sailed into the wall and kept right on going, leaving a sizable pony-shaped hole in the masonry.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Troy walked up and examined the decrepit stonework, scratching the joining mortar. It flaked away like old paint. Curiosity satisfied, he was about to turn and leg it some more, when two glowing malevolent eyes lit up the darkness of the old castle's freshest hole. Troy’s subconscious decided that hey, if it worked once, it could work twice, and he flicked his belt out again. This time the buckle caught on the small horn protruding from his assailant's forehead and promptly started to smoke, before the witchlight of whatever fell magic was being readied winked out like someone had flipped a light switch. The only sign that she was still there at all was that Troy was still holding onto a very taut belt leading into darkness. There was a pause. An unknown amount of time passed as two beings in contention found themselves completely without any idea about what to do. The spell was broken as the zebra and purple lizard rounded the corner.

Only for the lizard to fall through a trap door beneath his feet. Troy didn’t have the vantage to see, but he could hear just fine now that the magical ding-dong dome wasn’t trying to delete his eardrums, and he could recognize the “Oh, come on! Not again!” in the tone the little lizard used. The neighborly zebra fished around in her bag and pulled out a pole. One that definitely should not fit in a bag that size. Nevertheless, she lowered the pole down, and Troy found himself distracted from this new development with a tug on his own line.

He couldn’t really see inside the hole, but the tension was something fierce. He briefly considered bracing against the wall, but after remembering how this situation came to be, thought better of it and instead engaged in what felt like an extreme game of tug of war with the monster that lives in dark closets and under beds. As the belt drifted side to side as the pony on the end of the line tried to reel Troy in.

It was at this time he nearly lost his footing, because whatever shenanigans the two newcomers had gotten into had come to an end and had decided to announce themselves right behind him. After a few more moments of frantic belt pulling he managed to properly plant his feet again, but now he was at the mouth of the pony hole in the masonry. He wanted to turn and glare, but he wasn’t letting his attention drift so easily this time.

He heard a small voice come from behind, it didn’t sound like the Zebra girl so Troy guessed it was the purple lizard. The frustrated growls and horse noises from the hole informed him the two were having a conversation. Over the course of a minute, nothing really happened as the two talked. Then another minute passed while sobbing echoed out of the dark hole inches from Troy’s nose. Something he was certain to feature in his nightmares for weeks to come.

The lizard is clearly trying to be comforting but is also just as clearly speaking whatever language the ponies have. The bizarreness of that particular linguistic combo nearly sent Troy tumbling again, but from the sound of things, the horse on the other end of his belt is starting to calm down some. Then the lizard says something with the cadence of a question.

Silence.

All at once, Troy’s hackles are up and he’s on full alert as the silence stretches on.

Then he hears what he just knows is the pony equivalent of “Oh, right”, and his belt goes slack as he falls on his ass. It never occurred to him that she would just stop.

While the literal tension was gone, the metaphorical tension in the air was not gone, but less. Honestly, he just wanted whatever this was to be over.

He didn’t flinch when the pony in the hole reignited her witchlight, mostly, but he did internally wince at the state of her. She looked beyond bedraggled, her mane was going every which way, her eyes no longer bloodshot but still red, and the tracks down her cheeks told a story of recent crying. The worst part of it though was the look of utter despair and shame on her face.

Troy tried to figure out what to say, but with the language barrier would whatever he said matter? While he waffled on whether or not his doing something would worsen the situation, the zebra had no compunction about tossing in her two cents. Though again, no idea what was being said, and her voice sounded naturally neutral, so he had no clue about the contents of the conversation. Trying to suss out any context from the formerly rampaging pony was also less than helpful, as she just sounded so profoundly sad. It honestly just made Troy feel bad, and he didn’t even do anything wrong. Probably.

However, the way she wouldn’t even look at him, aside from stealing glances and then immediately looking away made it feel like he’d kicked a puppy.

Most likely this was a breakdown in communication, a misunderstanding of some sort. He was about to interject when the small lizard exclaimed something and pointed behind the pony in the newly minted interior window. She looked, he looked, they all looked behind her to see rows of something, concealed in darkness. With a wave of a horn, a little ball of light floated up and deeper into the room, illuminating neat, evenly spaced shelving holding an absolute butt-ton of books.

The formerly forlorn unicorn immediately perked up, but then immediately turned to him, then back to the books. She was clearly torn, and he hoped this would at least work as a way to extend an olive branch. He gestured with his arm to the books in a “Have at” motion. That was all the permission she needed apparently, because after a confirming nod and quiet words from the zebra she was off amongst the rows.

Troy turned to the zebra and lizard, gave a single nod, and lay down on the cool stone floor. His legs hurt.

Sometime later, the book pony was done doing book pony things and they had all returned to what Troy had mentally dubbed the ‘front lawn’ and started righting the scattered furniture. As he worked he looked at the quietly miserable quadruped and her companions. The others had chatted at him once or twice, but she hadn’t said or written a word between them.

After putting the small and oddly familiar table right side up the small lizard pulled a small scroll and quill and only squirmed a bit under his gaze. He and the Zebra finished putting up the chalkboard and Troy took a long, deep breath.

Right, let’s try this again.

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Discovering that the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters had a long-lost library with intact and fully functioning preservation wards would have been the happiest moment of Twilight's life. Or it would have, had she not just run down the first contact representative of a brand new species like a rabid Ursa Major. The only reason that she hadn’t thrown herself into the nearby ravine was because, as Zecora had pointed out, he didn’t seem too mad about the whole thing and maybe the situation could be salvaged if they just talked.

Like they had been going to until she had flipped out.

She massaged her face, it was still sore from the ugly crying she vaguely remembered doing, and it helped her stop herself from face hoofing herself into a coma. She watched the big guy get the meeting area back in order, she’d tried to help, but after he’d flinched at her horn lighting up, she thought better of it. He’d tried to hide it, but the fact that HE was afraid of HER awoke so many confused emotions in her. Emotions she just didn’t have the capacity to feel at the moment, after her little episode all she really could feel was hollowed out.

It didn’t help that they found themselves right at the spot they’d left off. It was sitting right there on the chalkboard.

[I am sorry, but I do not think I can do that.]

It just sat there, like a brick in her breakfast cereal and she had no idea what to do about it. About him. It wasn’t like he was going to change his mind now. What did she need to do to salvage this situation? Could she even salvage the situation? She watched as history was written right in front of her, as the Human, the subject of her study, and emissary for all his people, picked up one of the pieces of chalk and began to write.

[As I was saying before that slight interruption,] Twilight couldn’t stop herself from wincing as Spike copied down the writing, he had been told to take notes on everything in as much exacting detail as he could manage. She wondered what he had written about what had happened.

[I can’t do what you ask.]

Her heart sank, but at this point who could blame the Human? What did he think of her now, what did Spike and Zecora think of her, now that she had-

[Because the scroll is nearly impossible to read due to how it is written.]

The Everfree was awfully quiet for the storm that sentence released in the confines of Twilight's soul.

[I also have to spend much of my time feeding and taking care of myself, so I can not take the time to do all of this in one sitting.]

It felt like she was in the eye of a hurricane. Everything was going wrong because she’d messed up. Her tunnel vision, her stress, and her lack of control had cost them who knows what. She hadn’t considered his predicament at all. She could have solved all those problems if she had just waited a few moments, a single hoof full of seconds, and maybe things would have been different. Instead, she had failed all of Equestria.

[So As long as a new scroll is brought that can be read, and I can answer when I have time, I might be able to finish what you brought in a few days.]

She read the line. Then read it again. Then again. And again.

She turned to him and stared. She didn’t know when she had started to avoid thinking about his name. Only that she didn’t like thinking about it. She hadn’t liked thinking about a lot of things where the Human was concerned. Her conversation with Applejack passed through her mind and finally, she knew what she had to do. In a moment that felt too long to be between heartbeats, she felt all the anger that had spilled out of her, now without its heat. The relief that even now felt hollow, and acceptance in that he was doing her a major favor and that she had to say the words she was going to say. Even though deep down a part of her railed against the very idea of uttering the sentence to him, before he ever said them to her. But she would do this, it salvaged EVERYTHING, there wasn’t any choice in the matter. Not for her.

She stood up and walked over to the human. Tears of relief, grief, anger, and regret rolled down her face as she spoke and wrote at the same time. It was so easy, yet so far from effortless, as she bowed to him.

“I am so sorry for my behavior. Please accept my deepest apologies for what I have done.”

She watched as his eyes went from her to the board, and then back to her before he moved to write himself, and unlike before, spoke in his own strange tongue as he wrote.

[I do, and I hope you would accept mine in turn. All of you.]

Her anger, her mortification, started to evaporate as she realized what was happening, leaving only a small patch of confusion as the Human wrote as he spoke.

[I broke into your home in the middle of the night,] He gestured at her, and her emotions wobbled as she had to try to keep herself from crying again.[and I stole from both of you.] He pointed at Spike and it felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. What had he taken? she’d checked all the books so what had he-[I took a peach, a cucumber, and this from your fridge.]

Something she didn’t even know she had went slack, as she just… sat. Turned to watch as he fished out a sapphire from his pocket and walked over and just handed it over to Spike. Who for his part looked equal parts confused and offended. You just don’t steal from a dragon. Now that she thought about it, she remembered him mentioning that one of his gems had gone missing. She’d chalked it up to him having a late-night snack and forgetting. He obviously remembered too as he waved the offending gemstone in her direction. “Told ya one went missing!” he grumped, before looking at it, shrugging and taking a bite.

Twilight turned back to the Human as he watched her assistant eat his snack with an expression that had popped up on Rarity’s face once or twice when she had first watched Spike eat his favorite snacks.

That was it? All of that, for what? Not even a saddle bag worth of groceries and a single gemstone. One that he just…

“Why?” she idly added the word to the chalkboard. He turned and looked at her, then the chalkboard, and in a few strides, she had her reply as he added his own word to the board and tapped hers then his new one.

[Why what?] She had to take a moment before replying because even she wasn’t sure what she meant.

“Why did you break into my house?” The words felt too calm, too sterile for the things she was feeling, and yet she could feel the growing pustule of nasty that had been in her since that night slowly draining.

[Because I didn’t know it was your house.] That prompted her own clarifying question and soon everything started to finally make sense.

[Where I’m from libraries don’t have people who live in them and I thought I might figure things out if I went there. Or at least learn something. I took the food when I found it, because I was starving, and the gem because I figured it wouldn’t be missed if someone was just leaving something so valuable unsecured.]

She stared at the answer and remembered Featherweights notes, and suddenly felt ill. He had said it himself, he was alone and afraid. Afraid of them! He stole into her library to learn. And so what if he raided her fridge? If somepony was starving she’d gladly feed them. Ok, it was a bit rude to just take it and wrong to steal, but…

[I could make excuses. I could say I wasn’t in my right mind at the time. I could say I was scared. It doesn’t change that what I did was wrong. I can only promise to never do it again and ask for your forgiveness.]

She felt light, not lightheaded, but as if she had been carrying a boulder on her back and never realized until it was gone. It felt like she’d float away. She turned to her number one assistant. He had been peeved but seemed more neutral now. The snack probably helped. He just looked at her, and she saw in his eyes some of the relief she now felt. She knew he had felt violated in the same way she had, and it was probably worse with him being a dragon.

In a move that honestly surprised her, Spike just shrugged and said. “Well, at least he said he’s sorry, and it was just one sapphire. He even gave it back! So…” He paused, “I’m not mad if you’re not.” She turned to the… to Troy.

“Apology accepted.” She almost laughed as the big scary human just let out a huge sigh of relief of his own.

[Yeah, how about we start over?]

“Sure,” she spoke/wrote, “but how about this time we start off as friends?” and offered a hoofshake.

He took her hoof in hand, and she didn't need to look to know what the word he spoke meant.

“Friends.”

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“Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.” —Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

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Troy scratched his arms, trying to get the bugs he could DEFINITELY feel crawling around on his skin, grumbling as he got ready for bed. It had been going so well, then his neighbor, had asked why she’d been owed an apology.

He had bumbled through his explanation of events, of accidental entry, about the thoughtless butt slap. Though she seemed to take it in good humor and had one of the strangest and yet most enchanting laughs he had ever heard when he told her about her instinctual retaliation. It didn’t sound like it came from something that looked so much like an animal. It was nearly human, almost scarily so.

She had accepted his apology with grace, though her light teasing about how “Next time he should ask first.” had brought up a lot of questions that got shoved into his mental box labeled “Things to think about NEVER.”

He took a slug of water and finally got whatever bugs that were in his clothes sufficiently either dead or gone and started stripping down for bed. After the whole debacle that was today, the decision to reconvene tomorrow had been a welcome reprieve. As he was stepping over to his sleeping bag the clouds parted and the moonlight filtered in through broken masonry and empty window frames to illuminate his arms.

He paused. There were a lot more scratches than he thought there’d be. His eyes walked across his body, his bruises from his fall down the stairs were fading fast. A lot of the small cuts and scrapes were gone. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something felt off. He ran his hand down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath. He’d been reasonably healthy, despite the less-than-nutritious college diet. Was it because he wasn’t getting enough to eat? He hadn’t been here nearly long enough for his body to make any noticeable changes. Something to worry about later.

He climbed into his sleeping bag and stared at the large plinth standing in the center of the room as the exhaustion of the day started to work its magic until his eyes finally closed.

Only for him to open them standing on the plinth. Only on a second glance, it wasn't quite right, five spokes pointed outward like a poorly drawn compass which led to a small central platform surrounded by smoke. Smoke that hid a glow within.

Troy looked around and saw nothing. Less than nothing, there was just a massive void as far as he could see. He looked over the side and saw nothing, the decorative pillar the display had rested on was gone. He slowly walked to the smoke, and it was definitely smoke. It smelled like a campfire, like the ones his father made when they went camping. He slowly reached for the slowly rotating spherical barrier. And flinched as his hand touched it. Nothing happened. Just smoke, just warm.

He slowly pushed his way in, forced to close his eyes at the sting.

“I hate rabbits.” The mantra game to his lips by habit, the trick his father had taught him to ward away smoke from the campfire when it blew into his eyes. He liked rabbits well enough-

“About time you got here.”

His eyes shot open at the voice. He recognized it, but it felt beyond foreign to hear it in real life. He had only ever heard it in recordings.

His voice.

Sitting before him, circling a campfire and all looking at him were three beings.

A lizard sat contentedly on a rock basking in the warmth of the open flame.

A monkey rocked restlessly, back and forward, side to side, casting the occasional wary glance to the spherical wall of smoke that seemed to be sourced from the campfire itself. Though it wasn’t quite looking at the wall. Rather, at the darkness that lay beyond it.

And finally, sat the third and final being. One that wore his clothes, his face.

Troy stared back at himself. Was this a dream? That thought had passed through his head so many times now while he had been awake, it was almost surreal for the answer to quite possibly be yes this time.

But this didn’t feel like a dream.

Before he could fall further down that rabbit hole, his other self gestured to a fourth stone, perfectly placed next to the fire.

“Please, sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”