Second Chance

Chapters

01 - The Beginning
02 - Introduction To The Snow
03 - Deep Breath
05 - Settle
Interlude - Our First Chance
04 - Awakening Horribly

01 - The Beginning

01 - The Horrible Three

"Finally..." He said, removing the parchment from it's protected glass container. "The spell Star Swirl the Bearded couldn't complete in his final hours... Yet here it is, in my hooves!" He shouted manically.

"Don't you mean our hooves?" Firebird quipped, peeking over his fathers broad shoulders. The stallion looked up in a dead-pan.

"Yes, Son, our hooves." Mr. Blazer said in a dull voice. He quickly levitated the scroll away and into his saddlebags, fully out of sight. While floating it, he could practically feel the unadulterated magic pooling off of the ink written onto the pages. This kind of magic was not to be taken lightly. It was going to be his final hours as a mortal pony.

"Honey?" His wife shouted. Mr. Blazer turned around to meet her. "This one's feisty." She prodded a unicorn guard, currently tied against a pillar in the Canterlot Royal Archives. "What shall we do with him?"

"Dearest Fiero Flame, I've been married to you for twenty years. Don't I trust you enough?"

"Of course, honey." She smiled, licking her lips deviously. Fiero looked at the unicorn, raising her hoof high above her head, the stallion shrinking under her gaze. As the father-son walked out of the archives, they heard a snap, followed by girlish screaming.

Fiero caught up to the rest of the group a moment later as they walked through the empty halls of the castle. The walls were practically glowing with energy, the capital of Equus being a breathing magical golem itself. Soon, it would be theirs.

The three ponies were obviously family, for they all looked almost identical. Mr. Blazer and Fiero both had long-aged gray coats, Mr. Blazer being slightly darker than his wife's. Their manes were gray and aging fast, bags under their eyes, and lines in their faces. Mr. Blazer's eyes were an eccentric yellow, and Fiero's eyes were a scarily bright red.

Firebird was an average-sized colt. His mane was a curly blonde, his coat wasn't aged gray, but rather a natural gray. His eyes were orange, a mix between his fathers and mothers.

What bound all three family members together, however, was the fact they were all unicorns.

This was a fact they would take to their graves, holler from the tallest mountain, and hear for miles. They were Unicorns and proud.

For their entire lives, they had been oppressed. Political freedom was non-existent with the current holders of the throne. The one way Equestria could prosper in it's current state was if they were dethroned. They had tried reasoning, but the Princesses response was always a resounding 'No.' Didn't they, themselves being Alicorn, know that Unicorns were the superior race of the three tribes? Didn't they know that the Mud Ponies and Feather Brains could only cause trouble?

Well, this was it. The day they would finally prove to the word the might of the Unicorn tribe, with or without the Princesses on their side.

"Well, we got the spell, so-" Firebird started. His father shot him a nasty glance over his shoulder. Firebird stopped talking, restarting his sentance. "I- I mean, how unfortunate we have to take these matters into our own hooves!" He stomped his hooves in apparent frustration.

"Do not worry, son. With the power of this spell, the other Tribes will be eliminated forever!" Mr. Blazer said, his gaze hardening on the castle walls as they slowly became more and more unkempt and stone-like as they descended deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of Canterlot Mountain. "All of these years of torture, for what? Do delay us? This would've happened eventually. When we have the power of gods on our sides, nothing can stop us. Not even the Element Bearers. Not even Princess Celestia herself."

"Oh, I love it when you talk like that." Fiero said, leaning against her husband. "Please, keep talking."

"Of course... With the power of this spell, we will be unbeatable! A spell, devised to exponentially grow the power of a unicorn... I can wipe them all out!"

Unbenounced to the group, a long, snake-like figure apparated into the grooves of the stone wall, floating in a 2d-animation. More stone pillowed around his claw-like fingers to signify a bucket of popcorn, himself eating out of the bucket.

"I shall murder the other two tribes, and behead the tyrants of the throne!"

The figure rolled his eyes. He clapped, and the bucket dissapeared, as did he. He had some tyrants to warn.

"And I would walk five-hundred miles!"

"And I would walk five-hundred more!"

"I do not know the words of this song."

"To fall down at your door!"

The group jammed heavily and happily as the car rocketed down the streets of the city. Andrew, the one at the wheel, looked happier than anything else that currently resided in this world. A smile, one hand on the wheel, his elbow out the window... The only person who didn't exactly appreciate his driving skills would've been Leo, the same one who failed when it came his turn to sing.

As a matter of fact, beads of sweat had started to pour down his sides as Leo mentally and physically braced himself at every turn of the vehicle.

"Leo, you don't know five-hundred miles?" Abigail, the person sitting in the back seat with Leo yelled over the sound of the music blasting and engine revving. Her blonde hair whipped wildly as the air from the front window blasted back into the small cabin of the car.

"I am not familiar with American songs."

"Yeah, but you've been here for like, a million years." Charles quipped, the man riding shotgun. He also had blonde hair, feet crossed on the dash, and was wearing 70s styled pants only describable as an eyesore by Leo. "Besides, I don't think being Italian is an excuse not to know this song." He turned around in his seat, facing the startled man and propping up his oversized, circular sunglasses on his hair. "Get boppin', son! C'mon!"

"Uhh-"

"But I would walk five-hundred miles"

"And I would walk five-hundred more!"

"J-Just the man who- who walked-"

"To fall down at your door!"

"See? Better already!" Abigail punched Leo on the shoulder.

"Awhh-"

"That did not hurt, you baby!" Abigail teased, an expression of amusement crossing her features.

"Not that- my shirt!" He peeled the fabric away from his skin, looking at the irreversible damage she caused. "Testa Di Minchia! You got dirt all over it!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Hey!" Andrew yelled from the front seat. He snapped his finger, looking in the rear-view mirror at the bickering two. "Don't insult a man's fashion! He's brave enough for even caring about that stuff."

"B-Brave?" Leo yelled "Just because I have an eye for fashion doesn't mean I'm gay, or whatever-"

"But I would walk five-hundred miles"

"And I would walk five-hundred more!"

"Just to be the man who walk a-thousand miles"

"To fall down at your door!"

"Da-da-dada!"

"Da-dun-de-dun-de-dun-de-"

"Holy fuck Andrew, look out for that-!"

And then there was blackness.

"A-Are the runes completed, father?" Firebird asked, peering decisively between the scribbling stallion and the entrance to the cavern the three currently resided. They had since delved deeper into the depths of Canterlot mountain, not even the brightest day reaching it's tendrils of light down into the hole they found themselves in.

Torches lit the walls they resided in, but no light could reach the ceiling, itself being too tall. The cavern was massive, and the two guarding mother-and-son ponies paced nervously.

"Patience, Son." Mr. Blazer said, his eyes locked between the runes written on the parchment and the dust on the floor. "It'll all be in due time. It is nothing more than fate." He scratched the powdered magic deeper into the stone floor, the white substance making meticulous and intricate patterns on the ground. To any normal pony, the runes might be considered beautiful. But to any expert magic user, the runes were ancient, barbaric, and downright scary. The three unicorns could feel the building magic in the air as Mr. Blazer scratched the final few runes into the ground.

This spell was powerful. More so than Equestria had seen for a long, long time. No mortal pony had cast a spell this large in ages. Well- that was a lie. For the past four years, a particularly rowdy Unicorn down in Ponyville had been having her go at Equus-endangering spells. But no normal mortal pony has casted a spell this large in a long, long time.

Perhaps the last one to do so was Starswirl the Bearded himself. But that was eons ago. Now, it was time for Mr. Blazer to make his own headway. Now it was time for him to be remembered in the history books. Now, it was his time to shine.

They were the only ones who had enough guts to take over Equestria. The other Unicorns would understand. If they didn't- well, that was a bridge to be crossed later. They were going to prove that Unicorns were the greatest tribe.

All it took was a little push for them to understand.

"Ready." Mr. Blazer said. He threw the scroll and his saddlebags against a stone wall, stepping into the middle circle. "Join me at my sides, for Equestrian history shall be rewritten." Fiero gave one last wary look down the damp corridor before joining Mr. Blazer in the runes.

"What do you require?" Firebird asked, delicately stepping over the white powder and joining his father.

"Merely pool magic into the runes. I shall weave these patterns to create an Equus-wide spell. From there, every Pegasus, Earth-pony and Thesteral shall be wiped from existence in the blink of an eye!" His hooves quivered with anticipation as he lit his horn, igniting a deep-orange hue.

"Here- We- Go-!"

"By the order of Princess Celestia, I order you to stop!" A sudden, fourth voice filled the cavern, echoing off the walls. The white powder slowly started illuminating a hellish-red glow as the magic being poured in began to activate. Mr. Blazer looked up, meeting the eyes of the Royal Guard who dared to stand in his way.

It was a Thesteral, signified by his gray coat and blue armor. His eyes were piercing as he splayed his hooves, his wings erect in a battle-stance. All in all, it was very admirable. Standing up for your own Tribe. But this was more than that. Mr. Blazer couldn't help but laugh at the pitiful display.

"You cannot stop us alone." He laughed. The white powder stepped into the next stage, the entire ring suddenly igniting at once. Firebird flinched unexpectedly, the sparkling and popping powder startling him. Mr. Blazer, however, was too concentrated on the Thesteral and his spell-weaving to pay any mind.

"I know." He said. "But she can."

He stepped out of the way, and what he saw froze his blood.

Princess Celestia herself marched in, her golden regula and mystically flowing mane beautiful in every definition. She held her head high, an aura of superiority and faint posh ruminating.

"Trail Chev. Blazer. One of my former students." She said, her voice gentle, her eyes gentler. "I see you've discovered one of Starswirl's late spells."

"You cannot stop me now. The spell has weaved it's own-"

"Oh, I know." She interrupted. "I was there when the spell was written. Protective enchantments to seal the caster. Of course." She smiled. "You know, I always did like runic-spells. Things now-a-days are so mentally-driven, it's hard to picture what you want. I prefer the old, analog way of writing spells. It saves the hassle of having to memorize every little rune." She laughed, staring off into the ceiling like reminiscing on school-days. Not like when she was a filly Equus was nothing more than a floating rock, but still.

"Where is this going?" Mr. Blazer demanded, the sparkling white powder now erupting into chest-height red flames. He tried staring daggers into her eyes, but all she did was continue to look polite. Not what he wanted. He wanted something. Anger, resentment, panic... But all he got was a polite smile. That scared him. Only ponies who had a plan smiled like that.

"Where this is going is- you don't have to do this. Only you can cancel the spell. Please, we have support in the castle-"

"No. I don't want to hear your blabbering. You had the chance when we tried appealing diplomatically. Look where that got us." Firebird peeked over his father's shoulder. Princess Celestia's gaze momentarily darkened, becoming almost saddened by the young foal. Her facade soon caught up, as the polite smile returned.

"I refused because you simply cannot lock up three of the four tribes for simply existing." She said. Infuriatingly, she rolled her eyes, like chastising a foal. "Trust me. Lulu tried once. Ended in her banishment to the moon." She still held her smile, staring up into the ceiling as she reminisced. "You know- back when Equus was a lifeless hunk of rock floating through space, I had her to-"

"Why are you stalling?" He shouted, barring his teeth. "What are you waiting for?"

"I am waiting for the perfect moment."

"To do what?"

"To overfeed the spell with magic and make it purposefully backfire." Her horn lit with all the power in the sun. "Which is about three seconds from now. Anything you want to say?"

"Wh- but this could have Equus-wide damage!"

"It's better than murdering three-fourths the population."

"You don't know what you're-"

And everything went black.

BEEP

Hey ma. Today was great. I ate at that fancy restaurant again. The food was good... Good food. I still can't believe I can afford shit like that. Crazy. Anyway- Florida's great. Always hotter than hell. People here don't seem to mind it, though. I saw somebody bundle up because it was seventy out. Seventy. I just cannot believe that. I was swimming in a public pool, and this couple walked by. They looked at me like I was the craziest guy they'd ever see. Apparently seventy isn't hot enough to go swimming. Anyways. I gotta go pick up my friends. You didn't hear this from me, but I think Abigail got an eye for Leo. I ship it. That's internet slang for 'cute couple' by the way. Uhh- see ya. Bye bye.

BEEP

"Ugh- My head..." He complained. Headaches, to Charles, was an uncommon phenomena that rarely plagued his day-to-day life. The last time he had a headache was when he had the Flu. Before that, he can't remember. But right now, the back lower half of his brain seemed to be screaming at him in an almost-constant agony.

His ears twitched to the sounds of shuffling feet on the ground. Which was odd, as last he checked his ears didn't move...

"Is everypony okay?" A lady asked. In his border-line delusional state of teeming on half-consciousness, he simply glanced over the fact she said 'pony' instead of 'body.' But that was fine. That was okay. What mattered most right now was the fact he was alive...

Because last thing he remembered was eating metal going seventy miles an hour.

His last memory... Work had just gotten out. Andrew picked them up. They were having fun.

The tearing of metal plagued his memories as he remembered the car being torn apart by a force beyond imagination. His skull, mashing against his headrest as a piece of sheared metal blew directly through his head. Although it happened in less than the blink of an eye, he could still remember the sensation of the metal slicing his brain, moving through his head.

...

Then how was he still alive?

"Mr. Blazer, are you alright?" She asked kindly. "Ms. Flame? Firebird?" He didn't know who she was talking to, but he was glad to be in his more skin right now than anything else in this universe.

Against his will, he let out a breath of air. It streamed past his teeth, letting out a slight whine as hot air escaped his lips. It sounded like a dying dog, or a gravely injured person. He didn't feel injured, though. He felt fine, just a horrid headache.

"Oh dear. I believe he's hurt."

"Your Majesty, I do not suggest approaching the prisoner. He could still be dangerous." A second, gruffer voice talked. "Reinforcements are still on the way. We should wait-"

"He is not an enemy, merely a misguided soul." She cut off gently. "Besides, we do not let our 'prisoners' potentially bleed out on the floor." There was more shuffling of feet, clicking of what sounded to be high-heels, and the warmth of a body next to Charles.

"Mr. Blazer, can you hear me?"

It soon dawned on him that whoever this disembodied voice was solely mistook Charles as this 'Blazer' character. Slowly, he sucked in air, and barely moved his head off the ground.

"W-Why do you keep- keep calling me that?" He asked, his voice suddenly overtaken by a hardy cough.

Suddenly, he felt- something- touch his back. It felt like metal, yet wasn't cold. It was almost emitting heat, like standing in direct sunlight.

"It's okay." She said. "Do you remember who you are?" It took a moment, but he finally managed to get his breathing back under control. He kept his eyes firmly shut, however.

"Y-Yeah. Charles Green." He rubbed his eye, not registering the fact he touched his own face with not his own fingers.

"Okay... Charles. Mind if I scan you for a moment?" She asked. Charles nodded. He soon felt a warmth suddenly surge through his body. Just like the metal, it was comparable to standing outside in direct sunlight, except penetrating his body through every angle. Oddly, it was methodical and almost therapeutic. As soon as he came to enjoy the feeling, it dissipated, leaving him feeling cold against the ground.

"Huh... Interesting. Mr. Blazer's magical signature has been severely dampened..." She observed. "Tell me, what is your last memory?"

"Last memory?" He asked. "Getting a huge piece of metal lodged in my skull..." He opened his eyes. "I remember it being painful, and-" His voice faded as he stared at the figure.

...

"H-Horse?"

He looked at his 'fingers'

"H-Hooves?"

To say the next five minutes were filled with an awful lot of screaming would be an understatement.

Author's Note

"When a person dies from Cancer, the Cancer dies too. That's not a loss, that's a draw. Technoblade never looses." - Norm Macdonald

Rest in Power.

02 - Introduction To The Snow

02 - Andrew and the Girl

Lyra enjoyed living the simple life.

She enjoyed her long walks. Long, simple walks. She enjoyed listening to her Marefriend blabber on about cooking her baked sweets. Hell, she just enjoyed her Marefriend. Not to say she was simple, not by any stretch of the imagination, but she enjoyed life being simple.

A feeling that was ever-so-fleeting.

Life had picked up. Her young years were over. Goodbye, bliss. Hello, taxes.

She enjoyed these simple walks. This was one thing the knocking life couldn't take from her. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps one day when she is old and gray, being ready to leave this ethereal plane, life could have it's way. But not here. Not now. Right now, these simple walks filled her mind with the level of simplicity she so dearly craved.

And things were about to get the opposite of simple. Right now, as she walked down the brick path through the forest, life knocked, knocked, and kept knocking at her front door, demanding to be let in. Something was happening that would change both their lives forever.

And Lyra couldn't wait.

She took a moment, pausing in the forest. The Whitetail Woods were notorious for being entirely safe, and as she looked up into the night sky, she couldn't help but agree as an overwhelming sense of zen filled her veins.

The sky was painted a brilliant, almost impossible purple. Yet another thing life couldn't take away. Splattered paint brushes had long since made the sky's optimistic author bleed a pool of creativity and inspiration for all young colts and fillies to gaze out upon, which thousands were sure to be doing right now.

Crack- Rustle- Bam

Lyra's ear's tilted to the side, her head soon following.

Whitetail Woods was safe. Safe. Nothing was here to hurt her.

So why was she scared?

Whatever it was, it was barely off the trotted path. Maybe only a couple hooves.

Slowly, she walked towards the shrubbery. Using a combination of her magic and hooves, she pushed and pulled on the twigs, moving through the dense bushes. It only took a moment for her to come into a clearing, not much larger than a pony.

Life came knocking. Life made the simplistic complicated. And life was about to get complicated.

Her heart froze.

Blood. Feathers. A filly.

It was the night of Christmas. A howling wind battered against the windows as Andrew sat on the sofa. A warm glow emitted from the fireplace in front of him. In his hands was a letter. A simple, unassuming, and blatantly boring letter. No fancy markings, designations, or extra flair. It was the most simplest, barest, and dull letter one could imagine.

But it's contents would decide the rest of Andrew's life.

Sitting on the sofa to his left, his mother. To his right, his father and little sister. He clutched the letter tightly. Too tightly, perhaps, as his knuckles grew white. His breathing was shallow with anticipation as he fidgeted with it, flicking the lip of the letter up and down, almost teasing the insides.

A comforting hand was laid on his shoulder. He turned his head, looking at his mother's comforting smile. He turned his head the other way, seeing his fathers proud face and his little sister's confused expression.

She didn't understand. She didn't understand why a letter was so important. She might when she got as old as he. Although he didn't look old, he still felt it. He felt old in that moment, older than anybody in the room.

She might remember this night as the night that took her brother away.

He stored away a breath as he ripped open the letter.

Now or never.

In an instant, the battered filly was on Lyra's back. From a distance, a pony might see a black blotch moving at break-neck speeds. A black blotch on an impressionist's rendition of the universe. The purple sky, what once provided comfort, now provided Lyra with a horrible foreboding sensation.

She felt the warm, sticky liquid dripping around her barrel as the filly's wounds only got worse with the jostling of the galloping hooves. She didn't know the first thing about medical care, especially emergency. She didn't know if galloping made her worse or not- if she should have gotten a pony first or not- all that mattered was getting the filly to the hospital as quickly as ponily possible.

The stars were laughing at her as she ran out of breath, slowing down.

Her breaths became ragged, the weight pulling her down. Her hooves aches, her joints felt like wet wood, and she nearly collapsed, there, on the hill.

She blinked the tiredness out of her eyes as she looked up. Looked up to the stars. They were laughing at her... right? It was her last chance. Silently, she made a prayer. To Luna. To Celestia. To whoever would listen. Her mouth moved silently as she prayed.

When she opened her eyes again, the warm glow of the Ponyville General Hospital illuminated her face.

She staggered forwards, bursting through the doors. The nurse at the front desk choked on a mug of coffee.

"Help!"

The nurse didn't need to be told twice.

"I'm going to miss you..." His mom said through teary eyes. Andrew kept a straight and stoic face, his expression unreadable. The harsh reality being that under the surface, any motion of his face would cause a cascade of waterfalls to pour out his eyes. A poor visage put up by a man who didn't want to leave. Instead of hinting at the slightest of emotions, he wordlessly hugged his mother, tightening his arms around her as he buried his face into her hair.

"Will you be back for my birthday?" The little sister asked. Andrew broke the hug, looking down at the girl. Once again, entirely wordlessly, he nodded his head. "Yay!" She shouted, jumping up and down on the spot, like a firework about to take off.

"You take good care of yourself, hear?" His father said. He nodded. "Good. I'll see you around, kid."

Without another word, he turned around and grabbed his suitcase, marching out the front door.

"Get her on the bed!"

"Open Fracture on her Marginal Coverts. It's swelling. We're gonna need to do emergency surgery to close the wound."

"Do we have any records?"

"No, nothing. The mare who was with her in said she found her in the woods."

"Her heart beat is unsteady. It's in a shockable rhythm. Preparing defibrillator."

"Clear!"

"Her breathing isn't right. I'm preparing a magical scan. Potential broken ribs."

"I'm looking. Definite broken ribs. Don't waste your magic."

"Healing spells?"

"Not until we can get her open and fix that."

"She's seizing!"

His walk to the cab was blurry as he felt a thousand miles above the surface of the earth. That was it. The last time he'd ever set foot in his own home. Of course, the home would still be here. Of course, he would still come back to it for holidays, birthdays, celebrations... But it wouldn't ever be his home anymore. It would be his parent's home.

He grew up. Never do that. Never grow up.

His feet barely touched the ground as he opened the door of the yellow cab, throwing his little personal belongings onto the seat besides him. He didn't even see his family waving to him as the cab began to roll away. He made every effort imaginable not to look. He put a hand over his eyes, his sleeve becoming damp as tears soaked into it's surface. Hopefully, he was making the right choice.

For a little girl waving on the front porch, it was the second time a yellow cab had taken away a brother. This time, there was no war to be had. There was no fight to be fought, and no guns to be fired. But she couldn't help but feel- not sadness- but being scared. Scared for his brother. After all, everything would be fine... right?

"She's unstable. Her blood pressure dropping."

"Blood pressure's super low."

"Put in an IV. At least we got her to stop seizing."

"What the hay happened to her..?"

"Looks fall-related. Possible spinal-damage, hence seizing. She's a Pegasus. Potential accident. Not sure how she managed to do it, though, especially considering her above-average wing-span. Makes you wonder how she fell."

"Still no records?"

"Not yet. No records in the files ever described a filly matching her description coming in. In the morning, we'll send somepony down to look through the town hall's file-"

"Doctor, her heart."

"Dammit. Alright- You, go make house-calls. We're gonna need another rotation of nurses."

"On it."

"Alright. Start sedating her. We can't have her waking up during this."

Andrew, of course, woke up, trying to pull in a breath of air. Instead all he got was a mouth-full of viscous, honey-like liquid that dripped and drooled down his face as he sat up, pushing himself up with his arms.

He wiped the fluid off his face, blinking out what was remaining. He finally pulled a full breath of air as he finally took in his surroundings.

Andrew was in a partially white void. The sky was white, but not white like staring into a sun. It was a smooth white, like a huge room perfectly lit by a non-existent sun. It was ominous. Like it was staring back at him. Like he wasn't welcome here. Like he wasn't welcome here. The other half was the previously described liquid. Despite feeling as viscous as honey, the surface rippled and bobbed just like normal waves out in the ocean.

Slowly, taking care not to fall over, he stood up.

Instantly, his clothes were dry. The liquid only came up to his knees, and it still felt wet, but everything that currently was exposed to air turned dry, including his face and skin.

There. Thirty feet away. Standing on top the surface like Jesus, was a little girl.

She wore a dress that covered her feet, extended up to her shoulders in puffs. Although the sky was white, everything was still dark, like it was the middle of the night. He couldn't make out any color, but that didn't matter. What mattered now was getting closer. Why? He had not a clue. He just had to get closer.

So he started walking forwards.

But as he approached, something tugged back. The viscous slime, despite looking like water, only felt like it was thickening every step he took. The ground he stood on started dropping away, as the previously knee-high water started deepening, turning into hip-high water, then stomach-high water, then shoulder high water.

But she was so close. She was so, so close.

"H-Hey!" He shouted, his voice suddenly coming back to him. "Help!"

The girl turned around.

She looked so familiar. So, so familiar. It was almost exactly like looking at his sister... but her eyes. Her eyes were wrong. Instead of the familiar brown, it was replaced with an inhumanly bright red.

"Who are you?" She asked. Despite being in an unholy void, her voice still sounded timid and scared.

"My name is Andrew. I'm here to help!" He didn't know how he would help, but he at least had to try.

"You can't help me."

"Why not?" He asked, the viscous liquid now starting to seep around his neck.

"Because I died."

"Shit! She's flat lining!"

"Starting compressions!"

That took Andrew by surprise.

"You're dead?" He asked. She nodded her head. "Don't worry... I am too. I think." He looked around the white void.

"You are?"

"Pretty sure. Otherwise, I wouldn't have ended up... here." The two sat in silence for a moment. Although Andrew was still sinking into the surface, he kept his face rigid and calm.

"I don't want to die." She said, finally breaking the silence.

"Then don't. Let me help you fight."

"I- I don't know..."

"What's the alternative? Dying?" He chuckled at his own joke.

"I-" Tears started falling down her face. "D-Don't leave me." She said as Andrew began sinking below the surface.

"Then help me help you."

Finally, he slipped below the surface.

She gave in, leaning down on her knees and grabbing Andrew's shoulders from below the water. Then, there was a spark of white light, and reality faded.

"She's back." The doctor pulled down his mask. "Sweet Celestia, she's stabilized."

It was now morning, the sun haven risen hours ago. The two doctors, plus five nurses, all gathered around the bed. Each and every one looked absolutely battered to Tartarus, having went through their own war zone.

Most of the blood had been cleaned up already. She was still dirty, but pray to Luna, she was alive.

It was a small Pegaus filly. Her coat was supposed to be snow-white, contrary to it's current status of rugged dark-gray. Her wings were excessively big for a foal her size, one of them being bandaged to her side, away from harm. The other one was missing a large portion of it's feathers. Her mane was ratty, mostly light blue split up by yellow streaks.

The hospital bed looked too big. It looked like it could fit five more normal sized foals, compared to the one currently residing. Yet despite the size of the bed, machines and operating equipment were towering over the small foal, cramping the remaining breathing room and causing most claustrophobia. A breathing mask was hooked up to her muzzle, a green oxygen canister to one side. White pads pressed against certain areas of her chest, reading out to a slow, but steady heart monitor. It was a disproportionate amount of equipment for a foal her size.

"But she's alive." The doctor repeated. "She's alive.

The hospital staff all looked at each other, bags under each of their eyes.

"She's alive."

BEEP

Hay, Andrew. You haven't left me a message in a while. It's okay, I understand if you're growing too old for these things. Talkin' to your mother. Last time I heard from you was two days ago. Two days! I know I sound like I'm over-reacting, but- You know what, I don't even know why I'm sending you a voicemail. You're probably just busy. Okay, I'll see you later. Byeee.

BEEP

03 - Deep Breath

03 - Spark

"This 'god' figure doesn't actually exist?" Princess Celestia asked.

"Uhh- Well- It's not that He doesn't exist... I mean, we don't think He exists, but there are people back where I come from who would argue about that." Mr. Blazer, or rather, Charles explained. The four sat in a large, gothic dining hall. The elegance of it's intertwined bricks made it an almost impossible feat of engineering back in their world. But that was just it. This wasn't their world.

Maybe the panicking hadn't set in yet, but the three felt relatively calm, if a bit out of water, about the whole situation. It hadn't quite occurred to them how they currently had no way of getting home. It hadn't quite occurred to them that they were magical horses.

On the end of the wooden table, Charles was in the body of the dubious 'Mr. Blazer.' Abigail was 'Fiero Flame,' and Leo resided within 'Firebird.' Not a far distance away, enough to be safe, but not far enough to be rude, was Princess Celestia herself.

"If you don't mind me asking- which I'm sure you don't give a shit-" Fiero- or Abigail asked. "Why are you so trusting? If we're like, super-villains in this world, how are you so sure this isn't just one big trick?"

"Because you just asked that." Princess Celestia explained, leaning a metal-plated hoof onto her cheek in a very un-princess like manner. "I know my ponies, and Fiero was too... snarky to ask those questions."

"But what if that's also part of the-"

"And also due to your magic signature." She removed her hoof, shifting in her seat slightly. "A magic signature is like a hoof-print. It's entirely unique pony-to-pony, excluding twins. You can hide a magical signature from a pony's spell, but you can never remove a signature from the pony themselves. All of your magical signatures have been diluted. They are almost unreadable. They have been replaced with new signatures, entirely unique to you. Nopony has ever attempted to change their signature, and I don't think Mr. Blazer was quite bright enough to figure out how within the matter of days."

"But there is one aspect of your story I do not quiet understand." She continued.

"What is it?" Leo asked.

"Where is the fourth person?"

...

"Oh fuck, where's Andrew?!" Abigail shot up and out of her seat, surrounding the dining hall. It lasted for all of about two seconds, however, as her hooves gave out and she collapsed onto her muzzle. She still wasn't quite ready to walk yet.

"That is a good point. A very, very good point. Where the hell is Andrew?" Charles said, looking around. "How did we get here- but he didn't?"

"Because there was only three bodies." Princess Celestia said, still sitting calmly in her chair. "Mr. Blazer, Firebird, and Fiero. And, the backfire was targeted through a very specific part of space. It probably only grabbed who it could reach first. I'm sure Andrew is fine back on Earth." She lied smoothly.

"Whew, that's a relief." Charles sank into his chair, sitting like a human.

"But-" Abigail looked to the other two ponies. "That accident was really bad. I remember- God dammit, I remember dying!" She shook suddenly, her neck feeling slightly funny from where a shard of metal scraped in an alternate universe.

"Huh. That's funny." Charles said, sitting straighter. "I also remember getting basically beheaded by a car."

The silence permeated across the group.

"Then- does that mean Andrew didn't make it..?" Leo asked unsure. Princess Celestia looked saddened, her ears flattening against her head.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that, my little ponies." She said solemnly.

"Well-" Abigail spoke up. "Wherever he is, I hope he's alright."

His eyes shot open. An overwhelming sensation developed deep in his stomach as his throat battled viciously against the urge. Despite his sudden awakening, he knew exactly where he was. He was perfectly sober in this moment. He remembered being in a car accident. He knew he was in the hospital. And, most importantly, he knew what was coming.

He leaned over the bed in a sudden swift motion, emptying his stomach contents onto the tiled floor below. His eyes were wide as he stared at the putrid liquid that had come from it's stomach, it's usual color being replaced by a sickening red. Staring at his own vomit made him nauseous, like he hadn't just emptied his stomach contents.

"Hey, hey! It's okay!" A gentle voice said. He found himself being pushed back into the bed as his delusioned and drugged-up mind imagined a white horse comforting him rather than a person. He was sober. He knew it was just a figment of his imagination, but dammit if it didn't look real. He closed his eyes, a headache rapidly developing as the world began to spin.

"Khn-" He swallowed the horrible liquid residue in his mouth. "Khnock- me out." He sputtered, barely recognizing his own voice. The nurse (or doctor) complied, the clicking of hooves on the tiles as she avoided the spattered spot.

"Relax. It's going to be okay. You're going to feel cold for a moment. It'll be alright." He heard a clicking sound, rushing liquid, and the mercy of the gods take over his soul as he delved back into a sleepless slumber. In another few moments, he was out like a light.

"Nothing." He said, flipping the folder over with his magic. "No foal with a white coat, blue and yellow mane, no cutiemark, aged 8-10, has ever existed in Ponyville." He sighed, letting the file clip back into the clipboard. He pushed open a heavy set of doors with his magic and entered the desolate waiting room.

"Lyra Heartstrings?" He asked. Silence. His dark blue eyes broke his gaze from his folder, flitting across the room. There was nopony there, with the exception of a turquoise unicorn sitting in a chair, leaning against the wall, her eyes closed.

"Lyra?" He asked again. Still, nothing. No response from the sullen unicorn. She looked tired, bags under her eyes, her coat still damp from having to rub off certain stains from the fur. He felt a pang of sadness through his heart, knowing deep down that he didn't have any positive news to bring to the unicorn. Everything he had to talk about would only make her day worse.

"Lyra." He said firmly once he got within talking distance. Finally, the mare jumped in her seat, eyes shooting open. It took a moment, but she focused her gaze onto the unicorn in front of her, him having a golden-yellow coat with a browned mane. Her eyes lit upon seeing the coat, and similarly the name tag which wrote 'Doctor Horse' on it's surface. The doctor cringed at her false-hope, even more so at her eyes. Her young eyes, full of hope. The doctor had been around a few times. False-hope only ended in heartbreak.

"Is she okay?" Lyra asked quickly. Infuriatingly enough, the doctor didn't just hesitate a response, but gave her a down-trotted, sad smile.

"She's... alive." He said slowly. "Unfortunately, I cannot speculate whether she will make it through another day."

"How bad is she?" Lyra asked. The doctor cringed again, but Lyra still held hope, however false it may have been. Maybe- just maybe- there was real hope hidden in there somewhere. But the look on the doctor's face only made her heart tremble.

"It's- It's looking grim." He admitted. "I'm- I'm surprised she made it through last night. There were a few times we didn't- we didn't think she would make it." Lyra frowned heavily, her ears drooping.

"But- and this is a huge but..." The doctor started, not wanting to hurt the unicorn further. "She woke up a couple of minutes ago, although briefly."

"S-She woke up?" Lyra said, opening her mouth in surprise. "How?"

"We reduced her medicine because we thought she might've been getting addicted. She pushed through the remaining chemicals in her system and woke up. After... emptying her stomach, she demanded we sedate her again, and we did."

"She wanted to be sedated?"

"Yes. She seemed pretty aware of what was happening." He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"When I found her-" Lyra pushed, "What were her injuries?" She rephrased the question from earlier.

"Hm. She was- Well- She had-" The doctor pulled out the clipboard with his magic, opening up the packet and reading directly from the file. "Multiple broken ribs, collapsed lung, broken wing, spinal damage..." He stopped, seeing Lyra's face. "We're just now starting her on healing spells. Hopefully that will help with the pain when she wakes up next." The doctor flipped to the next page, his face darkening even further.

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked, picking up on his sudden mood-shift.

"Well- A foal her age should weigh..." He looked at the numbers... despite all her injuries, it still should've been higher. "She is shorter than a normal foal. Approximately eight-to-ten years old."

"She's that old?" Lyra asked, surprised at her age.

"Yes. She's small." Also underdeveloped... An unspoken voice told him. "The average wingspan for a foal her age is around ten hooves. She's currently rocking twenty hooves, and that's with her small stature."

"You mentioned how much she weighs." Lyra pushed. "What's wrong with her weight?" The doctor soon realized he had over-shared.

"Well- I mean... Considering her small stature, impressive wing span, and considering her injuries, she weighs... about twenty pounds less than she should." He said, ripping off the band aid. Lyra looked confused for a moment.

"Well- Why does she weigh so little?"

"Because she's malnourished." The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he messed up. Lyra's expression was similar to a pony who was slapped, all the emotion draining out of her face, leaving only a shocked open-mouthed pony.

"She- She's-"

"I'm not saying anypony did anything to her." The doctor tried to correct. "All I'm saying is the facts. She's malnourished, weighs sixty pounds... I'm not here to speculate, but perhaps she was on the run? Trying to survive out in the wilderness, got malnourished, and passed-out mid-flight? That's the most probable theory right now."

Lyra finally closed her mouth, the motion bringing tears in her eyes.

"Lyra?" The doctor asked. Lyra started shivering, and the doctor wore a concerned expression. "Lyra, are you alright?" He sat down quickly in the seat next to her, rubbing a hoof on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even brought that up. I don't know what I was thinking."

"N-No." She squeaked out, sniffing and rubbing a hoof over her eye. "It's just that- That's a foal. We're talking about a real, living foal in the same building. One I found, and carried. What-" She sniffed. "What would've happened if I didn't find her? What if I did find her hours later?"

"Then she would've died." He said bluntly. Lyra's shocked gasp filled the room as she continued sobbing into her hoof. "And you saved her. You saved her." He continued rubbing her shoulder. "If it wasn't for you, she wouldn't have seen today."

"B-But what if I hurt her more? By carrying her?"

"And what, the alternative being her dying?" He said, slightly exasperated. "You did a service, Lyra. You didn't let her die. You put her on your back and carried her here, and that's all that matters."

The two sat in silence, Lyra's tears eventually subsiding.

"So..." He started again, wanting to move onto a subject more happy. "How did the spell come along? Did you do it yet? Last time I saw you, it was for my Canterlot Spell Division recommendation."

"O-Oh." Lyra sputtered, wiping the last of her tears away. "It's coming along... fine. It's fine." She shook her head. "Bi-weekly monitoring by specialized doctors to make sure everything's coming along fine. Everything's fine." She said. Although her words were true, her tone made it sound like she was trying to convince herself more than the doctor.

"Who performed the spell? You?"

"Ahah." She said sarcastically. "As if I could do such a complicated spell. Nope, not I. It was the- umm-" She waved a hoof. "The librarian. She did it. Was happy enough to, as well. She said something along the lines of 'performing an illegal spell with a license.' which was super reassuring. Took her five minutes. Five minutes to change my life."

"Five minutes to save one, as well." He said. Lyra's eyes momentarily flickered up to meet his before she continued staring at the floor.

"Thanks, Doc." She finally said. "It's been hard. It's been real hard."

"That's alright." He patted her on the shoulder. "I should know. Had to watch my wife go through the same thing- Hey, speaking of which, does Bon-bon know you're here?"

"Oh." Lyra looked up at the clock. "I guess not."

"Go to her. The foal will be fine."

"Heh." Lyra stood up. "I hope so. Is it alright if I come back to check on her?"

"I'm sure she'll love to see her savior's face." The doctor waved as she pushed open the heavy double-doors leading out of the hospital.

"Now." He said, pulling the clipboard back out. "Who are you?"

BEEP

Andrew. It's been five days. Are you alright? I know this might sound like mom-being-overprotective, but we're starting to get worried. Really, really worried. The last time something like this happened was when Josh was deployed over seas. We- We all know how that happened. If you- Please pick up the phone. If you could please pick up the phone, just- call us or something. Uhm- Alright. I love you, Andrew. Bye.

BEEP

05 - Settle

05 - Old Woes

"One fact still eludes me." Princess Celestia said. Princess Luna was in the middle of cutting into her breakfast, a steaming pile of waffles doused in only the most luxurious of syrup straight from Caneighda. Her fork and knife, grasped in her midnight blue magic, halted mid-slice as she directed her attention back at her sister, sitting across from her at the other end of the grand dining table. Princess Celestia herself was enjoying a pristine daffodil soup for her dinner. Although, the soup hasn't seen much action since she sat down, her thoughts drifting needlessly through fictitious scenarios only devised to cause her anxiety.

"Pray tell us?" Princess Luna asked. "Art thou speaking of the fabled 'humans' once more?"

"Indeed, sister." Princess Celestia levitated a spoon in her golden magic, idly stirring the orange slushy surface. "I worry for them."

"What is said 'elusive fact?'" She asked.

"There were four humans." Princess Celestia responded, delving across her conscious and racking her brain for any information. "I do not know why such a spell would target four humans. Why not target three humans instead? Why does said humans have to be friends? Why not gather three humans from across the planet?" She looked deeply into the soup. It was not reflective enough to properly reveal her face, but if it was, it would see a pony graced with the deepest of anxiety.

"One doth phrase these questions like thee know said answer already."

"...Maybe." Princess Celestia looked up at her sister, than out the colossal stained-glass windows to her left, looking at the setting sun. In a few minutes, she would have to get up and properly set the sun. But right now, she was still worried. "You know about soul-magic, correct?" Princess Luna, in response, dropped her fork and knife unexpectedly, giving her sister a blank stare.

"Magic in which is highly illegal and banned?" She said, dumbfounded. "Magic in which must never, ever be used under any circumstance, since it bounds the dimension we resides in and the very ponies inhabiting said dimension? Thee mean that magic?"

"Indeed."

"You don't mean..."

"I do mean." Princess Celestia cast her gaze once more out the windows. "I do believe the spell used soul-magic. It feeds off of death. It might've reached out and... murdered those humans in order to harvest their soul-magic." She explained. "When it backfired, the human souls were not devoured, and instead resided in the now-lifeless vessels of Mr. Blazer and his family."

"Do you mean to suggest the fourth human has merged with one of the human souls?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Even if I studied the spell for a thousand years, I would not be able to predict what could happen when it backfires. Nonetheless, I want to speak with the three humans. Do some soul-searching."

"Was that a pun, dear sister?"

"No." She shook her head.

"Sister..?"

"Yes." She nodded sheepishly. "But feeding off of human's soul-magic still doesn't make complete sense."

"How so?"

"The spell was designed to feed off of the caster's own blood by modifying the timeline. Setup their off-spring or family in a way that they would die during the casting whether it be due to a disease, murder, hunger, exhaustion... falling, nopony would be none-the-wiser to their unexpected death. So, once again, why target the four humans? They aren't related to Mr. Blazer or each other, trust me, I've checked."

"Perchance thine spell backfired such it broke it's own rules." Princess Luna bargained. "Perchance thine targeted the four humans simply for it wasn't strong enough to target three separated humans. Perchance the four humans simply died at the time the spell was looking for souls to leech." Princess Celestia seemed to dwell on these words for a moment, flipping her spoon in the air and staring at it's metallic finish.

"Maybe." She finally said. "Maybe not. I don't know. I still want to talk to the three humans."

"Then so it be." Princess Luna picked up her fork and finally started devouring her meal.

Princess Celestia still had a hole in her stomach. It's not that the humans were inherently bad ponies, it was more of the fact she felt as if she was missing something. Maybe this was a task for her student... No, she can't keep pushing off the things she can't fix herself to her student. One day or another, she would get sick of it.

"Then so it be." Princess Celestia parroted her sister, forcing herself to sip off the soup.

Cake would be so much better right now.

"You're not my DAD!"

"In this body I am!"

"You're making it weird!"

Abigail was sitting at the dinner table, head on hoof eating a salad, (Which tasted surprisingly good,) listening to her two friends half-argue half-joke about their current situation. Their new-found lives had been developing slowly. The princesses didn't know exactly what to do, so they gave the trio a pent-house suite in the castle for the time-being. It was spacious, luxurious, and most importantly, durable.

The three had more than their fair share of face-planting table-breaking moments whilst they re-learned how to walk with four legs instead of two. Against all odds, they evolved to their situation quite well. They were happy to be together, at least. At least they had each other to keep from going mentally insane.

"Hey." Abigail said, swallowing a chunk of lettuce. The two ponies, one being taller and broader, the other being shorter and tooth-pick like, were standing in the living room on the white rug. They both turned to look at her. "You guys don't have it so bad." She said.

"Oh, it's a competition now?" Leo yelled. Since inhabiting his new body, Leo's accent changed from Italian to an almost European accent. His coat was a light-gray, his hair a darker green.

"No. Think of it this way." Abigail dropped the fork, turning in her dining room chair to face the two ponies. "You're his son, right?"

"No." Leo immediately responded with no hesitation.

"Your body is his son's, right?"

"Yes."

"Where did the son come from?" There was an uncomfortable silence as the two ponies looked at each other. Finally, Charles opened his mouth and formed an 'O' in understanding.

"What? I still don't get it."

"You adolescent child..." Abigail smiled sweetly, her old face contorting into an expression the previous inhabitant didn't wear much. "In this body, I was mounted by him." She pointed a hoof at Charles, who shrunk nervously.

"God DAMN!" Leo yelled, backing up and falling on his flank in the process. "Way to put it bluntly."

"I don't think you're understanding yet." Abigail smirked. "I had to of been mounted by him, then eleven months later, you came out of my horse vagina."

"FUCKING STOP!" Leo suddenly yelled, standing up and backing up even farther. "Oh Jesus, I get it now! I get it now!" He rubbed his eyes with his hoof. "That's fucking- why would you even say that? Oh Jesus, why would you say that?"

Abigail, however, laughed wholeheartedly and turned back to her meal with a new smile on her face as the two ponies withered in disgust in the background. She was happy in this new situation. Yes, she missed her family. Yes, she missed her old body. Yes, she missed being... young. But being a unicorn in a pony world would be every young girl's dream. It was fantastical and whimsical in every sense of the word.

To be fair, being old does suck. Nobody- or rather pony, had a birth-date for anyone else besides Leo. Mr. Blazer and Fiero both appeared to have been born outside of Equestria, or at least smuggled under the law. Princess Luna gauged that Mr. Blazer had to of been around sixty years old and Fiero around fifty-five. Waking up every morning with pains in the shoulders- or rather withers had been excruciating. She couldn't see as far, run as long, or hear as well. She also missed being thin, this body having a noticeable layer of chub around her mid-section.

All in all, being old sucked.

On the other hand- hoof, Leo was apparently fourteen years old. Which always put a smile on the other two's faces. Legally, he was their child, even if Charles and Abigail had no romantic interest in each other. For now, it was more like a union. And Abigail was surprised how much their bodies had affected their mental state.

Leo spoke English better- or rather, Equestrian better. He acted more like an edgy teen rather than his usual reserved and anxious self. He shouted more, became more energetic, and had a horrific sweet tooth. Abigail hadn't noticed any change in herself... but that might be because she was living with herself. She wouldn't notice herself changing.

Charles had become a little more rude. Whether that was due to residing in Mr. Blazer's body, or having to wake up everyday with more strange pains because he slept two degrees to the left when he should've slept four to the right. As if he knew that.

"God, fuck you! Fuck all you!" Leo shouted. "Being a child sucks!"

"Language." Abigail mindlessly said, putting a piece of salad in her mouth and chewing.

...

Abigail noticed the lack of sound coming from the two arguing ponies. Slowly, she turned her head to observe the two. They were staring at her like she had a second head.

"...What?" She asked.

"Did you just- tell him off for swearing?" Charles asked, looking between the two.

"Uhh- I guess I did? I dunno. Felt natural."

"Aw' c'mon!" Leo complained, pouting adorably. "Don't tell me your maternal instincts are kicking in!"

"I'm not your mother!" Abigail shouted, suddenly flustered.

"Then why did you tell him off?" Charles asked. To that, Abigail looked even more flustered.

"I- honestly don't know. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, Leo. I should've-"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Leo asked, suddenly on edge. "Apologizing? You? For something so small- We out'a get our minds checked out by the princess. I think you're goin' fuckin' crazy." Abigail's eye unexpectedly twitched when he swore. Leo picked up on it, and suddenly donned an even more concerned expression.

"I think you're right." Charles said. "I think we should-"

Knock knock.

The three ponies turned their attention to the set of double doors leading into their suite.

"Did you order anything?" Charles asked, looking at Leo.

"No. You?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I did, moron." Charles stepped forwards, weaving around the sofa until he came face-to-face with the doors. He opened them. "Oh, it's just the princess."

"Hello."

"Hey. Come on in. Make yourself comfortable." Charles stepped out of the way as the tall alicorn walked into the room. "Sorry we can't offer you anything. I still can't make drinks without spilling half the bottle over the counter."

"That's alright, Charles." She said, stopping around the head of the room. "This should be a quick visit. I have something I need to investigate." At her words, the three ponies suddenly looked a little unsure of their current situation. Princess Celestia was a kind ruler... but the things they had read in history books...

"What would that be, Princess?" Leo asked.

"Andrew." She stated. The three ponies ear's perked towards the princess. If they weren't paying attention earlier, now they were. "I have a theory on Andrew's where-a-bouts."

"Where?" Abigail asked, putting her fork down and sliding off the chair. "Where is he?"

"I have a theory..." Princess Celestia started pacing the room, almost like a predator circling their pray. "As you know, your souls were taken from your bodies back from your world. I theorize, because there were only three present forms to take in this world, that Andrew was squeezed into one of your minds."

"What do you mean?" Charles asked.

"Andrew may have been merged with one of your minds. He didn't appear alongside you because he's trapped in one of your minds."

"Get him the hell out of there then!" Abigail yelled, taking a few steps towards the princess. "Whatever you have to do, do it!"

"Again, this is just a theory." Princess Celestia stopped walking and lit her horn. "I am going to scan for any extra magic signatures. If Andrew was merged, then one of your magic signatures should either be corrupted, or have an entire separate signature residing alongside you."

"Do it." Charles said.

"Of course."

And so, she did. Along the line, she scanned each pony. Starting with Abigail, she found nothing but the residual signature left over by Fiero. It was much of the same story as she descended down the line. A variation here or there, residual signatures being picked up from the environment, but nothing earth-shattering. Nothing that stood out to her, nothing that made her cock her head to the side and take a deeper analysis.

She finished with Leo. The three ponies looked up to her, hopeful that their lost friend had been found. Unfortunately, her look was enough of a confirmation as her ears drooped, a sad frown gracing her lips as she looked almost ashamed.

"I... Am sorry." She said. "I could not find Andrew on any of you three."

"Dammit!" Leo suddenly yelled. The three other ponies flinched at his loud, squeaky volume. Princess Celestia in particular looking all the more guilty.

"I'm sorry-"

"No!" He stepped towards Princess Celestia in a sad attempt to look threatening. "You came in here and gave us hope! You don't do that! That's- That's like walking into a funeral and saying Grandma's still alive! When she isn't! Why couldn't you have just let us- I dunno- Deal with it?"

"Because the alternative is letting Andrew die." She stated bluntly. She hated her own tone, but it seemed she was dealing with a foal on her hooves, even if Leo was older in a previous life. "If Andrew was in your consciousness, he would've already been fading. The longer I waited, the harder it would've been to separate him, and the more likely he would've died." She said quickly.

"But- I- Ugh!" Leo stomped his hooves in a foalish display of anger. "I hate you all!" He shouted, suddenly turning heel and bolting in the other direction.

"Leo-" Abigail started, being abruptly cut off by the slamming of a bedroom door in anger. The remaining three ponies stood in awkward silence. Princess Celestia looked guilty. Abigail looked concerned. Charles looked like if he wanted to disappear into the floor, making a perfect impression of a wallflower.

The princess sank to her flank, sitting down on the white rug. Charles brushed his coat with a hoof, and Abigail paced nervously, like the floor was hot and burning her hooves.

The princess observed Abigail closely. What she was doing was all-too familiar for the thousands-years-old alicorn.

"I should go check on him." Abigail said suddenly and quickly. "Make sure he's alright." She turned around, about ready to follow Leo's hoof steps.

"No." Princess Celestia said. Abigail froze suddenly.

"What? Why not? He's angry and needs my-"

"Charles, how long has she been doing this?" Princess Celestia asked. Charles, who was currently picking at a piece of fur on his chest looked up quickly.

"Since around last week." He stated, putting all four hooves back on the ground. "Just earlier she yelled at Leo for swearing."

"Doing what? What have I been doing?" Abigail looked at the two ponies, judging their expressions as the ponies judged her right back.

"You're acting like his mother." Princess Celestia finally said after a moment of silence.

"What? No, I'm not!" Abigail said exhaustively. "I just wanted to go check on him! Is that a crime?"

"No, it isn't." Princess Celestia looked to Charles for a moment, and then back to Abigail. "It's because you're inhabiting that body." She said, pointing a hoof at Abigail. "Firebird is Fiero's child in that body. It's giving you signals because you're genetically related. All those hormones going to your brain unrestricted. It's making you see Leo as your child, whether you like it or not."

"O-Oh." Abigail looked down. "I- guess that makes sense."

"I understand if you-"

"No, it's alright." She said, rubbing a hoof against her foreleg. "I just- I thought being a mother would come later in life. Like, much later in life. I was kind of thrust into this."

"You speak as if you are going to care for Leo like your own. It's like you've already made up your mind."

"I have. Of course I have... but it just sucks. Not Leo. I mean- this." She motioned to her body.

"I can agree with that." Charles quipped.

"I don't understand?" Princess Celestia looked back and forth between the two. "What's the problem?"

"Being old sucks." Abigail stated bluntly. "I'm over twice the age I was back on earth. I'm going to live for half as long, and even then not all those days will be enjoyable. I'm an old lady now." She sat down, poking the fat on her stomach. "I got old lady problems. This world is amazing. Magic, flying ponies... I wish I could enjoy it more."

Princess Celestia froze suddenly. She wasn't moving much before, but her breathing and blinking have seem to cease. Charles and Abigail looked up at her uncertainly. Ten-thousand years of age hid what she was thinking quite well, but the sudden change in movements made the two uneasy.

"Well..." She said, breaking the silence, but still staring at an indeterminate point in space. "I do have a solution to your problem." Abigail looked at Charles for a moment, eyebrow raised, before looking back at the Princess.

"What is it? Massages? Peti- I mean- Hooficures? Princess-approved weight-loss program?"

"Black magic."

"What?" Charles yelled suddenly. "B-Black magic? Like, the opposite of normal magic? The shit we hear in movies and TV-Shows all the time?" Abigail didn't say anything, but nodded her head along anyways.

"Indeed, the same one." Princess Celestia said. "I do not take this lightly. I only do this for I pity your current situation. And I do consider this dangerous." She stood up, continuing the pacing circle she was doing earlier when talking about Andrew. "Black magic is banned in all of Equestria. A few vile ponies have taken advantage of Black magic to make themselves more powerful. The reason it's so dangerous is due to the fact it has a mind of it's own. You don't control the magic, for the magic controls you."

"And you're going to, what?" Abigail asked. "Reverse our age?"

"Yes." She said simply. This earned shocked expressions and cold-hooves from the other two ponies. "The age-spell was developed during the founding of Equestria, a sort of way to defend against Discord pre-reformation. It's considered taboo due to the fact it doesn't quite like to listen to the caster." She explained. "It is very easy to accidentally turn a fifty-year-old into a five-year-old if the spell is in a bad mood that day."

"But can you- or the spell-" Charles shook his head. "Can it like- turn you into dust?"

"No." Princess Celestia said. "It only goes as far back as the month you were born. No further."

"Then I accept the risk!"

"And that's why- wait, what?" Princess Celestia took a double-take. "Excuse me?"

"I do too!" Abigail shouted. "I hate being old! I hate waking up with a bad neck! Get me out of this hellish-cycle!"

"Please!" Charles shouted. "This spell sounds awesome! Why doesn't everypony use this spell?"

"Because it involves Black magic?" Abigail said, slapping Charles across the head. "Were you even listening?"

"Ponies, calm yourselves." Princess Celestia catechized. "You do realize if I turn you both under the age of eighteen, you will be forced to live with somepony else? I can only get most ponies around the age they want. The spell, like I said, has a mind of it's own. In every sense, you will become a minor."

"Dunc care." Abigail shrugged. "Get me around eighteen, then."

"Turn me twenty-one so I can get drunk!" Charles shouted. Princess Celestia could only stare in awe as the two ponies were so actively eager to have Black magic performed on them. She regained her focus quickly, though.

"One of the many reasons why Black magic is dangerous is due to the fact it has no 'undo' button. If one messes up, there is no going back. Unicorn age-spells last, at most, a week. That's due to the spell holding the age together. With Black magic, it's an entirely physical transformation. Once the spell is done, it leaves the pony. If I mess up your age, it's over."

"Do it!" Abigail shouted. Princess Celestia scrunched her muzzle, almost disgusted at the blatant disregard for themselves. Then again, she wondered, she was the one to bring it up in the first place.

"Alright, fine." Her ears and head drooped in submission. "Just- stay still a moment. Abigail, you can go first."

"Hell yeah!"

Leo laid on his bed in his luxurious bedroom. The floor and walls were made from expertly crafted marble, and sunlight poured through the blue-stained glass, illuminating the foal face-down in his pillows.

He wasn't crying, rather just laying there, hooves spread out in four directions. He was confused and frustrated. Confused on why he acted like an inconsolable child, and frustrated at himself for getting so angry at something so small and trivial.

He chuckled softly into his pillow as he had a realization.

He had just yelled at the ruler of Equestria. The monarch of the throne, the immortal alicorn Princess Celestia. The same ruler who had fought a bloody war against the Griffon Empire not-too long ago. The same ruler who was forced to banish her own sister to the moon for a fucking millennia. The same ruler who fought tooth and nail to freeze the literal embodiment of chaos... and won.

He had just shouted at her... and lived.

What a strange world he now lived in.

A knock sounded across the room as he stopped his chuckling. He buried his face deeper into the pillow.

He knew he was acting like a child, and he also knew that he should probably be concerned. But he didn't.

They knocked again.

"Fine. What do you want?" He muffled through his pillow. The click of a latch and the creaking of an old door opening signaled to Leo that the pony had entered the room.

"I just want to check on you."

Leo froze his breathing.

That didn't sound like pony-Abigail... That sounded almost exactly like human-Abigail.

Slowly, he raised his head off his pillow. A motion he found surprisingly comfortable to do, especially after getting neck pains from doing the same motion as a human. What stood in front of him confused him dearly. The Abigail he had seen mere moments ago had a faded gray coat and an even more faded gray mane. She was had bags under her eyes of age and a noticeable chub.

Now, however... The pony who once slouched stood tall. Very, very tall. She looked incredibly thin. Her gray coat was instead replaced by a snow-white that almost radiated warmth. her mane, which was previously scrunched up, now flowed freely. Instead of it's old, faded gray, it was replaced with an embarrassingly hot-pink that traveled down her neck and around her sides.

Still no cutiemark.

"What the?" Leo said, extra confused. Her eyes were a horrifying red, but still shone kindness down. She smiled dearly as she trotted towards him.

"Yes, it's me. Yes, I know I look good." She said with an ear-splitting smile. Leo noticed how absolutely thin she looked. There was barely any meat on her bones. She was tall. Super tall. She might've stood at the same height at Princess Luna, honestly.

"Uhh-" Leo said, swallowing his spit. "How's the weather up there?"

"Pretty humid." She said, looking around. "Nopony dusts their shelves, apparently." She looked down at Leo. "Mind if I sit?" If she wasn't biologically his mother, he would've said she looked hot.

"Uhh- Sure, go ahead." He sat up, scooting away. Despite looking thin, she apparently weighted a metric ton, judging about how much the bed sagged as she sat down.

"Very comfy. Now- I know- HEY!" She slapped a wandering hoof away from her pelvis. "What were you doing down there?"

"Well- I mean-" He peeked his head around her hooves. "You haven't- I mean- Uhh..."

"What? What is it?"

"I mean- it physically looks like you haven't had any children?"

"Do you mean my boobs?" She looked down herself. "Yeah, they look not-saggy."

"Yeah. That's weird."

"Please stop staring at my tits."

"Okay." Leo looked at the rest of her instead. "How did this happen?"

"Well- I told Princess Celestia how much I hated being old. She told me about an illegal spell that could revert our ages back to anything we wanted!" She spread her hooves wide. "Man, it feels amazing being not-old! So much energy!" She twisted her torso, cracking her back as she did so.

"How old are you now?" Leo asked.

"Well- I asked to be eighteen. She accidentally got me down to seventeen instead."

"Wait- you're a minor?"

"Yup."

"I just touched your tits."

"You're a minor, too."

"Oh, yeah. Right." He shook his head. "She can just do that, though? Revert your age?"

"Apparently?" She flicked her hair with her hoof, watching the unnatural color fall down. "Kinda scares me how much power she has. Lucky she didn't flatten you like a bug when she had the chance." She laughed kindly, half-shoving Leo.

"Yeah, lucky me..." He added his own laugh back, trying to push her as well. Instead, it was like pushing a brick wall. She looked thin, but oh man, was she heavy. "How did she 'accidentally' get you down to seventeen? Isn't that kinda hard to mess up?"

"The age-spell she used had a mind of it's own. She could only get me roughly around the age I wanted. Well- she turned me seventeen instead of eighteen. With the way she described it, makes it almost sound like a miracle I got so lucky. She's a scarily powerful alicorn, so I don't know how much of that was pure luck and how much of that was skill."

"Couldn't she age you back up?"

"She said she'd rather not. Something about aging backwards is safer than aging forwards. More risk going forwards. Doesn't matter, though, because I am enjoying this new body!" She yelled stretching out on the bed. She let herself flop down, her pink belly exposed to the air above her. She kept stretching, hooves high above her head.

"Leo, stop touching my tits."

"-Sorry. They just look so- flat."

"They are still my boobs."

"Fine."

"That's not a conversation I wanted to walk in on." A regal voice spoke. Both Leo and Abigail shot up, looking at the doorway. Surely enough, a regal pony known as the 'scarily powerful alicorn' walked in. Leo's face was overtaken by a blush. As did Abigail's.

"P-Princess Celestia!" Abigail sputtered, suddenly playing with her mane. "How's- uhh- how's Charles? He good?"

"Mostly." She chuckled softly. "He did come out a bit- younger?" She cocked her head to the side, looking behind her. "Come on out."

"Do I have to?" A young voice spoke. Immediately, Leo shoved a hoof into his own mouth, biting down painfully as he forced himself not to laugh.

"Yes, come on." She catechized, using a wing to push the foal forwards. "Unfortunately, the spell was less kind to Charles. He asked for twenty-one. The spell instead chose- well... twelve."

"Holy shit!" Leo suddenly yelled, laughter taking over his soul as he clutched his stomach.

The foal standing in front of them was positively adorable. His coat was a very dark gray. Darker than when he was old. His mane was in a form of buzz-cut, taking the shade of a dark blue like the ocean. His eyes were a yellow, and they were currently directed squarely on the floor.

"Not funny!" He said, pawing at the floor. "Not funny."

"Bro, you are a child!"

"I'm like, the same age as you!"

"Nope, I'm fourteen! It's only two years, but why do you look so freakin' young?"

"Language!" Abigail yelled, thwacking Leo on the head softly. He yiped, rubbing the sore spot.

"I said freaking!"

"I have an answer." Princess Celestia said. The ponies turned expectantly towards the monarch. "Mr. Blazer was born short." And Leo started laughing yet again. Abigail, however, wore a look of deep concern.

"What's wrong?" Princess Celestia asked. Abigail's gaze flicked up momentarily before looking back at the floor.

"You mentioned if we were all under aged, we had to go live with somepony else."

"Indeed, that's true." Princess Celestia said. Now, Leo and Charles both stopped their bickering- or rather, one way bullying- and started focusing on the unraveling situation.

"Are we- going to the orphanage?" She asked, rubbing her hind legs with her forelegs.

"Heavens, no." Princess Celestia laughed. "I have faith in our foster-care system, but I'm not cold. No, I do have a better idea. You are all unicorns." Charles touched his head, feeling the protrusion. "And yet not one of you know a single spell yet. I know a certain somepony to solve that issue."

"Princess Celestia wants me to do WHAT?" Twilight Sparkle yelled, clutching the scroll in her hooves.

"Geez, take it easy, Twilight." Spike, her ever-so-faithful assistant said, rubbing the side of his head. "What's so bad about a letter from the princess?"

"Oh, nothing much, only to mother three children!" She shouted, turning the scroll around and showing Spike. Spike took it in his claws, reading it over.

"Well- it's not so bad. I mean, they all seem pretty independent." Spike rolled the scroll up, letting it dangle at his side uselessly. "Plus, I'd be nice to have some company every once in a while in the library."

"B-But, I'm not a mother!" She yelled, turning heel and trotting in a large circle around the library's main floor. "Mom is a mom! Not me! I can't do this!"

"Twilight, calm down! It seems like Princess Celestia wants you to just watch over them. You aren't actually their mom. Plus- did you even read the part about teaching them spells?"

"Teaching-what-now?" She turned her head 180 degrees in a borderline painful maneuver.

"Yeah." Spike unrolled the scroll again. "It looks like she wants you to teach them some basic spells like levitation."

"Oh- Well- That's not so bad, then." Twilight said, yet still pacing. "Just raise three foals. No problem."

"Twilight. One of them is seventeen. And here it says they're all siblings."

"Do they have names?"

"Yeah, hold on." He read it up and down. "Here. Bright Spark, Sunny Skies, and Mustang."

Author's Note

7/22/22 UPDATE

Suggestions from NanoMouse made me rewrite half the chapter. I think it makes more sense now. Thanks, NanoMouse.

Interlude - Our First Chance

Interlude 1

It was the next day, and the sun was shining brightly. There were seven ponies currently positioned on a circular run-way of sorts, a golden royal carriage posted with two pegasi at the front, strapped to the heavy box. Standing intermittently were two alicorns, one of the night, one of the sun. Princess Luna looked much more uncomfortable, her black coat seemingly absorbing all the heat from the summer day. Not only that, but the darker-splotches of black under her eyes signified that she was past her bed time. But, she still stood to wave the ponies goodbye.

Near the edge was the familiar white-coated yellow-maned foal. He leaned precariously over the railing, staring down the side of the huge, monumental mountain that Canterlot resided on.

"So-" He started, catching the attention of Princess Luna. "If I were to jump, I would be fine?" Leo asked, still looking straight down.

"Technically, yes." Princess Luna responded. Leo looked up, confused. "Thou wouldn't be dead, per say."

"But you said there were spells to prevent me from killing myself?"

"Yes, but those spells hurt." She explained. "Going in one direction, then immediately shifting to the other will leave one's organs in a jam." Leo shuddered as he looked back down the ledge.

"No thanks." He pushed off, turning back to the platform and walking towards the carriage. As he walked, he heard conversation amongst the ponies.

"Princess Celestia?" Abigail asked. "I know you're tall and all, so- how do I fit?" Abigail was currently trying to back her rear into the open door, failing terribly and not budging at all. It seemed she got the tall-end of the stick when it came to height. She was simply too tall.

"Squeeze." Princess Celestia responded.

"I- I really can't!" She exclaimed, rocking the entire carriage back and forth. The two pegasi guards hauling the carriage both rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Let me help." Princess Celestia said, using her magic and giving Abigail a violent push! into the cart. She fell on her back, the entire carriage leaning towards the side she landed on.

"Thanks!" She said, the carriage rocking back and forth as she positioned herself somewhat comfortably.

"Ready to go, little bro?" Leo asked, nudging the smaller, darker gray pony. Charles had his entire body thrown to the side as he forced himself back up.

"Ugh- Yes, I am." He shook his head, knowing full-well resistance was futile.

"Alright, up you go, little Mustang." He teased. Charles- now under the code-name mustang, hopped into the carriage. Abigail looked on sadly as he had no difficulty fitting into the small space. It was now Leo's turn, but he hesitated for a moment as he stared at the door.

Being so short had its advantages and disadvantages. The same with being so tall. Being short did have one that, if Leo was in his old body would be ecstatic to have, but now that he was in the body of a fourteen year old seemed less awesome and more gross, was the fact Leo could see what the stork brought from practically any angle.

"Hey, Luna- Uhh- Princess Luna?" He asked, tripping over himself. The two royal sisters lined up next to each other, looking at the departed.

"What is it, young Bright Spark." She asked kindly, although her eyes were wearing her down from the apparent lack of sleep.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but..." His gaze momentarily flicked down. "Do you have a kid?"

Both princesses stopped breathing for a moment. Princess Celestia decided to go check on the guards pulling the carriage randomly as Princess Luna pawed the ground, her ears falling flat on her head.

"No. I never raised a child." She said truthfully.

"Alright." He said, turning heel and hopping into the carriage. "See ya' around!"

"Okay, children." Abigail said, readjusting so her horn didn't tear a hole in the ceiling. "Remember our code-names. I'm Sunny Skies. You?" She pointed at Charles.

"Leo." Said Charles.

"No- What's your code-name?"

"Fine. It's Mustang."

"Okay." She nodded her head. "I still don't know why you named yourself after a car."

"One, because nobody in this universe knows what a mustang is, and two, our bodies were already named after cars."

"Huh?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I mean, it was pretty obvious." He shrugged. "Mr. Blazer was obviously named after a Trail Blazer. Firebird was named after a Pontiac Firebird, and Fiero Flame was named after a Pontiac Fiero. I mean, what kind of lazy author struggles to name characters and instead uses vehicles sitting in their driveway? I mean, at least try to be creative."

"Uhh-" Sunny shook her head, pretending she didn't hear that small tangent. "Anyway- Leo, what's your name?"

"It's Bright Spark." He said, smiling brightly.

"Good. Our cover story is this- We're all siblings. You two-" She pointed to Mustang and Bright. "Are twins. Your birth killed mom, and dad couldn't handle three children so he gave us up."

"Pretty shitty dad." Mustang said, leaning back into his seat.

"Yeah, I agree." Sunny said. "Anyways- We bounced in the foster care system for a while before eventually ending up before Princess Celestia. She took pity and sent us to her student, Twilight Sparkle, to learn basic magic that we missed out on growing up. Got it?"

...

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't listening." Mustang said, head on hoof looking out the window. "I mean- if one of the guards pass out, we're like- dead, aren't we? Can't glide us down like a plane, we'll just plummet out of the sky like a rock."

"Is that true, Abigail?" Spark asked. "Are we gonna die?"

"Shut- Shut up, Charl- I mean- Mustang!" Sunny yelled. "Don't scare the kid!"

"Stop acting like you're her mother then." He said with a smile. "Aging you backwards didn't exactly take out those pesky hormones Princess Celestia talked about, now did it?"

"If we weren't role-playing you as my brother, I would've kicked your ass." She threatened.

As they flew to the desolate village known as Ponyville, a voice slowly awoke from slumber. And what he saw sent rage through his spine.

Three ponies, prancing like they owned their bodies.

He would wait. He would bide his time. And when the time was right, he would strike.

What he didn't know was two very similar voices were also waking.

And a third was just letting it happen down in Ponyville.

Author's Note

THERE IT IS!

As of 7/21/22, I have been working on this SPARKLE-FORSAKEN-STORY for about four months. I have had about NINE variations on this same story. Two of those were Scootabuse fics that I thought got a little too dark. That's actually where my previous story, Late Night Conversation came from, was one of those dark stories.

I'll go into later detail in the Afterword when I'm done with this story, but overall, excluding this story I've just written, about 178,219 words, 350 pages, 1,003,324 characters, and over, and yes I mean OVER four months.

Like I said, I'll take y'all through every story I've written to get to this point in the Afterword. If I wrote anything offensive, please tell me and I'll silently remove it.

Peace out, ladies and gentlemen, fillies and gentlecolts.

04 - Awakening Horribly

04 - Awakening Softly

It must've been a while before he woke up again. The taste of fresh vomit had long since left his throat, and the world stopped spinning horribly. Instead, he was left with the awful feeling that his life was in somebody else's hands. In his current state, being immobile, always asleep, and unaware made him feel a sense of vulnerability he hadn't ever felt. It was like every moment of being left alone as a child amplified by ten. By the time he picked up on the fact he was awake, he heard a click and the world faded to blackness once more.

He dreamed of many, many things. Sheep hopping over fences, the occasional nightmare, and drug-induced coma dreams. Those were always the worst, as by the time he stopped to really drink in the total chaos, it was already gone. A few times, he even dreamed of a dark blue horse giving him the saddest gaze he'd ever seen an animal give. That was always before the dream collapsed, and he was thrust back into the cycle of repeated falling-awakening over and over.

It was a place between words. Every once and a while, he could hear noises.

Beeping of an unnecessarily loud monitor, the gentle hum of building ventilation, and the clicking of heels on tiled flooring. He even heard voices once.

"You poor thing." They would tell him. "Don't worry, we'll find your parents."

He wasn't worried. He knew his parents cared for him, and after a while, they would come for him. Sit next to him by his bed. It was only a matter of time until he heard his father's voice telling him about his day, his mother reading him- I dunno- a book, or something? Or even his little sister.

He wished he could see his sister again.

He didn't want her to loose another brother.

When in the final stretches of life, one tends to realize their mortality. A deep impending sensation can often be replaced with one of over bearing peace. Whether that's due to animal nature giving the person an easy, care-free way out, or the person would be genuinely content with dying in that moment, he wasn't sure.

But laying deeply into his bed taught him to be content. He told himself, every time he had a moment of consciousness, that if he died now, he would go in peace. If he died in this exact moment, so be it. He didn't leave anything on a bad note. His parents still cared for him, he didn't have any axe-wielding exes coming for him, as far as he knew he had all his taxes done and booked... If he died now, he was okay with it.

He was happy.

...

Until one day, something very peculiar happened.

It was a wake-up like any other. He came-to, the familiar dark hues of the back of his eye-lids lulling him from his sleep. Except this time, he waited... and waited... and waited. Instead of the familiar droll of drugs entering his bloodstream, the click signaling it was his time to go, instead all he got was... consciousness. Was he finally granted the ability to ascend a layer in suffering? Was he not going to die prematurely? If so, he was okay with it.

All at once, like a god-figure flicking on an electric light, he started feeling things again.

An uncomfortable pressure pushed against his back, extending below his pelvis and ending somewhere in the soft, surprisingly comfy bed. The blankets pushed against his chest, warming him to his very core. Despite the warmth below the covers, the room he was in was very cold. It was a nice dichotomy, his ears exposed to frigid fall-like temperatures while everything below was warmer than a summers day. And he wasn't sweating, either.

Nothing hurt, per-se, but everything was sore. His muscles felt fatigued, like he just got done with the pacer test. Simulating an almost lactic-acid build up on every tendon in his body.

Light penetrated through his eyelids, and in a moment of surprise, he grunted and rolled his head to the right. This motion told him a few things. Number one, that he currently had a ventilator hooked up to his face. Number two, the tugging on his left arm told him he had an IV in, so do be careful about quick movements. Number three, he wasn't alone.

All at once, voices started whispering to themselves, deciphering and gossiping.

"She moved!"

"Are the lights too bright?"

"It might've been her sub-conscious. Maybe she isn't actually awake."

That last one was almost insulting. Of course she was awake! Whoever she was.

He grunted again, rolling his head to the left this time.

In a motion, he took a lung-full of fresh air, breathing in the filtered breathing air being supplied via the mask.

Instead, he stopped half-way. Not because something caught him off-guard, but because he couldn't physically breathe in any more air. His lungs became full to bursting, and his chest convulsed for a moment as he tried to suck in more.

This wasn't good. Not good at all.

It was in that moment that he started realizing... things. His hair was too long. The breathing mask was touching parts of his body he didn't even know existed. The spinal-pressure wasn't just pressure on his spine, but he could feel parts of the pressure extending down, like the pressure itself was another limb. His fingers and toes were entirely numb, and his hearing seemed to feel increased in volume and sensitivity.

All of this taken into effect, he started panicking.

His breathing increased as he helplessly tried his hardest to calm down. When it didn't work, he noted his heart rate increasing. His heart felt funny. Different. Lower than where it was supposed to be. That, in turn, made him panic more. The monitor started beeping faster and faster, which made his heart beat faster, which made the monitor beep faster.

It came to a crescendo of pressure building on top of him when tears randomly started streaming down his face.

He didn't know why he was crying. But it sure did feel right.

Click.

"No!" He yelled suddenly, his voice raspy and high from days of not drinking water. He moved his hand back and forth across the covers, signaling that no, he did not want to be drugged again. "No more!" The tears increased in pace as he started openly sobbing, a salty taste developing in the back of his mouth ."No more!" He repeated. In an instant, he began curling up in a ball, his legs clutching to his chest.

But the forced blissfulness of medicine never entered his system. Instead, he cried in a ball.

The clicking wasn't his drugging.

The clicking was the power button for the heart monitor.

The beeping had stopped, and all that was left was his sniffling.

Slowly, he felt himself being hugged. It started as a hand on his forehead, putting pressure onto his head. He liked the feeling. Then, that hand turned into two arms, tightly wrapping themselves around his torso. He didn't fight it, instead opting to wrap his own numb-hands around whoever this was neck. The breathing mask slid off his face and onto his neck as he breathed deep, less fresh air.

No. He knew who this was. This was his mom. Everything from the checking of the temperature, to her warm hug. This was his mom. His mom was hugging him. And it felt right.

With tearful eyes, he budged them open, letting light enter his cornea and subsequently making him squint again.

The room started dark, only the brightest of details making themselves apparent to him. Then, the room became too bright. Finally, his vision returned to normal, and he got a good look at who was hugging him.

A turquoise coat took the majority of his vision. Two, bright yellow eyes stared at him, both of which that seemed impossibly large. What was immediately apparent was the fact it wasn't human. But it's eyes were so expressive, he didn't care. They looked motherly enough, and that was all he needed.

He put his head into the crook of it's neck. The creature only managed to tighten it's grasp on him. He felt okay. He felt good.

"You okay?" It asked. It's voice sounded high, melodic, sweet, and motherly. It made him realize the creature was a female. A girl. A she. Andrew nodded his head slowly, still planted in the crook of her neck where it was comfortable. The creature slowly let him rest back onto the bed, his back hitting the surface of the sheets. Although his head was now back on the pillow, albeit sitting up slightly more than before, when the creature attempted to let go, he held his grip firm on her hoof. Her eyes flickered down, and she understood his position. She opted to keep her hoof there.

Andrew was in a beige hospital room, the walls shining a comforting, if a bit lifeless, egg-yellow paint. Along the brown wood of the trim was pictures engraved directly onto the grain of the wood. Pictures of ponies with horns and wings, dancing and galloping along the trim. To his right, a window shone brilliant white light, warming the room and giving it that faint blue undertone. He turned his head, looking to the sides of the bed. Almost towering above him was probably hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of medical equipment. It looked almost like intensive-care, but the room looked anything but intensive.

He turned his head back towards the people at the foot of his bed.

And it was only then he properly digested the absurdity of what he was looking

Two horses were standing at the foot. The one on the right was amber. It wore a quite frankly absurd looking white coat. A horse with a fashion sense. His brown mane was slightly spiky, but styled back into an almost-attempt at a comb over.

The one on the left's coat was creamy. Half it's mane was cobalt, while the other half was a diluted-to-purple looking pink. It's muzzle looked smaller, more round than the one to the right. The right one's eyes were also smaller, and had smaller eye-lashes. Andrew assumed, hoping nobody would get mad at him for mis-gendering, that the horse on the left was a female, and the horse on the right was a male.

Which brings him firmly to the horse that he's currently holding onto.

Her coat is turquoise, with a lighter colored mane.

Her eyes shone the brightest yellow he had ever seen. They were caring, deep, and reminded him distinctly of a relative he cared for.

But while he was staring at her eyes, he made an almost startling revelation.

The fur was too detailed. He could make out every hair in her coat and mane. Her eyes had too much going on in them. White reflections, the cloudy yellow of her eye's pupil... It was all too real.

He soon realized that he probably wasn't hallucinating, and that he was more than likely insane.

But isn't knowing that one is insane makes him no longer insane? No. Not at all. But Andrew didn't know that, and he soon realized the only logical conclusion was that yes: This was real, and it was happening.

Her eyes told him she understood. It was almost like every aspect of these horses were designed to look cute. Her eyes were large. So, so large. Impossibly large, to the point he was sure that their eyes couldn't be balls, therefore there would be no space left for a brain. That was a question for later.

Andrew, while still staring at her, moved his hand up and down her leg, feeling the fur, trying to find a reason why this wasn't real. Some fault in the simulation, the dreamscape, or the matrix. But no. It was flawless. He could feel every fiber. This was real, and it was happening.

"Are you okay now?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in slightly. Her mouth contorted as she spoke... like a normal human's mouth would move. It took him a few moments to realize she was speaking perfect English. A few more moments before he realized she was talking to him. He gaped for a moment, before shutting his trap and nodding dumbly. She smiled. She gave him a smile he had seen a thousand times before on his mother.

"Great." The amber horse spoke, stepping forwards. "Now that's out of the way-" The stallion pulled a clipboard out from his pocket, holding the thing in magic. Andrew didn't really register the fact he was holding it in magic. When everything's absurd, the most absurd things look dull in comparison. It was more of picking his poison of what to react to and what to store away to ask later. "Can you tell me your name?" Yet again, it took Andrew a moment to realize he was being talked to... by a horse.

"Uhh-" He said, yet again unfamiliar with his scratchy, faintly painful dry throat. "It's- what's your name?" He countered. The doctor put his clipboard to the side, smiling sweetly. The cream mare in the corner of the room, who had been silent the whole time, let out a slight giggle at Andrew's response.

"How rude of me, I completely forgot. My name is Doctor Horse. This is-" He stopped talking, realizing the scratchy girlish giggling was coming from his patient as well. "What? What's so funny?" He asked, a smile failing to be concealed by his lips. He nonchalantly brushed a hoof against his name tag, making it more easily visible.

"D-Doctor Horse?" Andrew asked, trying and failing to stifle his painful laughter.

"Yes, I know... quite funny." He admitted. "A pony named Horse. Very clever."

"Pony?" Andrew asked without a chance to think. His laughter abruptly stopped as he stared at the stallion. "You're a pony?"

"Yes... Is- Is that news?" He turned his head to the side, tilting it slightly. Inside Horse's head, alarm bells started ringing off, telling him something was wrong.

"I just thought- I thought you were a horse... sorry." He apologized, looking forlornly at the blankets on the bed. Doctor Horse shook his head, running through the possibilities.

Horses were local to Saddle Arabia. They are distant cousins of Ponies, so they were very different. One of the few similarities being Horses were quadrupeds and had two eyes. Everything else about them were entirely different. Their muzzles were longer, they stood taller, they had eyeballs not eye plates, thinner legs, duller colors, and they had no horns, wings, fangs, cutie-marks, or magic.

The fact his patient managed to misidentify every single one of those traits made the doctor very concerned.

"You thought I was..." Doctor Horse shook his head. "Do you remember your name?" He asked stepping forwards.

"Uh..." Andrew looked down. And just like that, the doctor took that as confirmation of the worst.

"Oh." He said, looking down at his clipboard. "I-I'm so, so sorry. S-Sometimes healing spells can go wrong, I suppose."

"Sweetie..." The pony to his left said, petting his hair. Even the silent cream-pony looked saddened.

Andrew was about to correct them, and that yes, he did remember his name, but his plans soon changed when a flock of hair fell into his vision.

...

That's funny.

He didn't remember his hair being blue.

He also didn't remember it being so long.

No. That wasn't possible. It just wasn't.

He had always been Andrew. He was still Andrew. Since the day he was born, he was born into Andrew. The mare standing to the left of Doctor Horse had pink and dark blue hair. The mare directly to Andrew's left had turquoise hair. If Andrew also had colored hair, and the room was full of ponies...

Andrew looked down at his chest.

It was staring at him in the face the entire time. Blatantly glaring, like it was laughing, trying to get his attention, yet he ignored it. Against all protocol, his brain was forced to look the other direction. Somehow, someway, some higher power forced him to not think about it.

He had a white coat. His chest no longer sat back, but looked slightly extended forwards. Not like a woman's chest, but rather like one of these ponies, sitting down and buffing their chest out by the design of their body. He couldn't feel his fingers. There was a proper good reason for that, too. He didn't have any fingers.

He looked to the mare to his left. This entire time, he had been gripping onto her, whether due to comfort or because he was insane, he didn't know. But by all laws of physics, it was impossible. It was just a hoof. A piece of nail, at least in the human world. Somehow, he was gripping.

And how do you let go?

"Is something wrong?" The mare asked, her head tilting as she observed Andrew. Andrew looked at her for a moment before looking back down at the hoof. His muzzle contorted up, feeling the corners of his lips twitch as he made a confused and slightly concerned expression. "You're kind of holding onto me tight."

"I- I can't let go." He finally said.

"What?" The doctor exclaimed. In an instant, he was by both their sides, muzzle inches away from the interlocking hooves. He sat down, extending both of his hooves to try and peel them apart. Lyra's face contorted into an expression of pain as she gasped at the feeling of hairs being tugged.

"Can you relax?" He asked Andrew.

"I- I'm trying."

"What's wrong with her?" She asked.

Her?

"Her thematic passages are blocked. Her frog can't properly release." He said quickly, observing the connecting tissue. "I can give her some numbing. Her body wont be able to figure out whether it's contracted or not, and it'll instinctively let go." He magic'd over a needle.

Now. Andrew had never been scared of needles before in his life. He had properly understood that when needles were in the equation, it was for the betterment of him. Yes, it was still unnerving. Yes, he wasn't entirely okay with the prospect of a thin piece of metal piercing his skin and injecting him with a foreign liquid, but he was never outright terrified of a needle.

Something in Andrew's brain flipped.

It was like the reasoning part of his brain just shut off as he saw the cap slide off the end, exposing the pointy tip.

He had to distance himself from it. It was pointy, scary, sharp, and pointy. Three of those four words were the same thing. He didn't even realize when he shuffled himself to the other side of the bed, almost hugging his now disproportionate legs to his torso. Lyra wasn't prepared for the sudden change in position, and the hairs being held on tightly by Andrew were suddenly ripped out.

She let out a shrill shriek that was quickly brought under control by herself. The pony looked down at the reddening part of her skin, pink skin exposed beneath. Andrew didn't notice the pain he inflicted, however, as he stared with terrified eyes at the needle.

"Well. That's one way to do it." The doctor said, recapping the needle and floating it away.

"Lyra! Are you alright?" The cream mare said, breaking her vow of silence. She had been leering the entire time, standing idly by in the corner, observing from a distance. When the so called 'Lyra' had been hurt, she seemed to kick into overdrive. Possible siblings?

"Yes, I'm fine." She said, rubbing the sore spot, now having both hooves freed. "Just a few hairs. She's got a death-grip, tell you what." In response, the cream mare shot Andrew a seething gaze. He sheepishly sunk into the covers under her harsh gaze.

"Right." The doctor said, stomping forwards. "We can't keep calling you 'her,' or 'kid,' now can we? We need you a name."

"Why 'Her?" Andrew asked innocently, still recovering from the harsh gaze.

"Her?" The doctor looked momentarily stunned. "Well- It's because you're a she? Did- Did you not know?" Andrew, in response, looked between his legs. The doctor immediately averted his gaze as Lyra and the cream-coated mare stared at the floor awkwardly.

"I'm a she!" Andrew raised his voice. "Oh, god! No, no no!"

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked concernedly as Andrew returned his gaze.

"Nothing!" He corrected quickly. "I'm just- surprised!" He smiled bashfully.

"That's not good." The doctor said, looking stunned. "What else do you not know? Do you know your age?"

"No..."

"Do you know who your parents are?"

"No?" Not in this body, at least.

"Do you know what tribe you are, at least?"

"What's a tribe?"

"Oh, sweet Celestia." The doctor shook his head. "Alright, kid. I'm going to explain Equestria to you in a nutshell. Tell me if anything jogs your memory."

"This is insane."

"You keep saying that!" Lyra exclaimed. The trio had left the hospital room, keeping the mystery filly still under watchful glance from Doctor Horse's position near the closed oak door. "What does it mean?"

"I mean- I've never seen amnesia this bad before." He explained. "I'm no psychologist, but she didn't know what tribe she was! She didn't even know she was a she! I mean- this is advanced amnesia. This is out-of-my-league amnesia. And it complicated things."

"Complicates? How?"

"I mean she's never existed!" He shouted. Bon-bon and Lyra exchanged concerned glances towards each other before looking back at the doctor.

"Huh?"

"That sounded dumb. What I mean to say is- She has no records of existing. Never in Ponyville, Manehattan, Fillydelphia... Never has a filly at her age existed with a white coat, blue and yellow hair, undersized and overdeveloped wings... Nothing! Nadah! And that's even when trying to search for any filly, cutiemark or no. She might've had a cutiemark, honestly, but her amnesia might have taken it away. I have no idea!"

"Well- If she doesn't exist, what's going to happen to her?" Lyra asked. "I feel partially responsible for her. I'm the one who found her, after all."

"She will probably be carted off to the orphanage." Lyra's eyes shot open.

"What? You can't do that!"

"I'm afraid if no family wants to take her in, it'll be the only option." He shrugged.

Slowly, Lyra turned to face Bon-bon.

In under ten seconds, a million words were exchanged behind glazed eyes and a stone-cold expression. Raising eyebrows, nodding or shaking of heads, and the occasional muzzle-scrunch.

"I know a developing family who would love to take her in." Lyra smiled broadly. "And they're standing right here!"

It had been a sunny day.

The sky was shining an unusually brilliant blue. The dandelions had long since turned white and spread it's tendrils along the soft wind. Not a cloud in the sky as the purple flowers bloomed beautifully. On the porch of a normal suburban home sat a woman alone. She had been aging quickly the past few years. Her once brown hair had started devolving into more and more gray streaks. Her husband was following much the same tradition. Whether the passing of their first son, John, had anything to do with the rapid aging remained elusive.

But she sat anxiously on the porch.

The day was familiar. She didn't know why it was familiar, but it wasn't in a good way.

The sun was too bright. The air was too right. She couldn't exactly remember the last time a day had felt like this. And that was not a good thing.

The rumbling of an engine caught her attention. She turned her head, peering just above the neighbors painted brown fence. A black and white police interceptor was traveling slowly down the desolate street.

This was so familiar.

It stopped in front of her house.

Why was this so familiar?

From the drivers seat, a tall and lean man stepped out. He was bald, black sunglasses on top his nose as he observed his environment. He shifted the weight on his belt, keeping one hand on while closing the door. He met the eyes of the woman still sitting on the front porch before giving a polite smile and started walking towards her.

Even that's familiar.

"Hey there." He greeted politely. "Do you happen to know a 'Mary Smith?'" He asked, bobbing his head joyfully as he spoke.

"Oh, I do." She said. "That would happen to be me, officer."

"Ah." He said. His smile vanished as he pulled off his sunglasses, them dangling uselessly to his side as he wore a forlorn expression. "Ma'am, I come regarding your son, Andrew Smith."

"What's he done this time?" She asked, almost relieved at the fact the officer knew where he was. For the past two weeks, he hadn't been responding to any voicemails. Perhaps this officer would finally elaborate on where he had been, how he'd been potentially arrested, and why they won't give him his phone in whatever jail they held him in.

"It- It's not good news." He said, meeting her gaze for only a moment.

"What happened to him?" She asked mechanically.

This is familiar.

"Your son, Andrew Smith, was involved in a car accident, and didn't make it."

"Your son, John Smith, was unfortunately killed in action during a mission in Iraq."