Fallout Equestria: Burdens

Chapter 13- Disclosure

“Some things in this world should never be left in the dark…”

A dainty ball of light, wisping its way into my view to brighten the space around me. As gentle as its light is, I can’t stop myself from wincing at it. Reaching for it, it just… bobs there for a little bit and softly dances around my forehoof. Feels like the way small hairs feel the slightest breeze touching them, but much more faint.

The light settles better, and I count every familiar divot, crack and crevice that make my room. Pulling myself up, everything feels about two times heavier than it should be. The blood in my head surges towards the front, and it swells into a throbbing pain that has me hanging over myself. Exhaling helps just a little.

I throw my hind legs off the side of the bed, letting my head hang like it’ll help with the annoying headache. I slept too long, didn’t I?..

My own thoughts are answered with vivid images rolling across my mind. I sit there, letting them sink in. All of it feels right: the Matriarch’s blessing; the pegasus flock at the front of the Company’s hole in the wall; the almost-undressing with that vibrant Aridian; and the talk with that Director. Everything lines up until it just stops.

I was there… and then I’m here. There’s nothing between then and now, and the more I try to think back on it, the more it’s the same. It doesn’t feel like a block; more like something just fell away.

Was I dreaming?... There isn’t much else it could be, right? “Awww— Fuck!”

I throw myself off the edge of the bed. Damn, the headache still tapping, and the grogginess weighting me down— I just wasted fucking time for preparations! Damn it! Damn it!

My barding slips on; my talisman where it should be. The bag of those water seeds is accounted for, and is much lighter as to be expected. Half a leather agreement is still with me— good. So I got everything I needed, now all that’s left is meeting… What was his name again?

Starts with an A…

Right at the tip of my tongue…

As—Astron?

The mind takes; I remember who, and what I need to do. As for where he was, I can actually remember that one pretty well. I know I’ll need to head back to that… rotunda. There’s more to it, and I have a feeling that it’ll come to me a little easier the sooner I get the lead out of my bones and muscles. Just thinking about it is getting me even more antsy.

* * * * * *

Here, smack dab in the middle of what makes for the busiest, most social intersection of the Mountain. As crowded as it gets, my skin still crawls. How can so many ponies… zebra… both— how can there be so many faces in one place, and still not enough sound to drown out any thought? You can’t get lost in this if you try, and I don’t know how I feel about that now.

Move on— Just move on— Keep going, Ward…

Right. I remember Stagona saying something about the ceiling. Looking up at the stars above, glittering specs on a blanket of blue. Some of them stand out more than others; the constellations hidden in plain sight. No matter where I look at it, it’s as if all of them shift with my perspective— like they sit still while the background moves with my view. How the fuck did they manage to do something like this?..

Orion’s Arrow… Orion’s Arrow… Stagona told me about the arrow telling me where I need to go. The constellation as a whole always looked more like a butterfly to me, or maybe a pair of drums with a corresponding stick. There it is…

I spin in place until my line of sight matches with the direction the arrow is pointing. Looking down, towards the wall… there’s nothing there.

Getting closer, minding the crowd, there’s still nothing to see. It’s just an empty wall, but I can’t stop moving towards it. There’s a shimmer in the rock face— coming from it, like a ripple in water.

A sensation’s nibbling at me like an itch I can’t scratch. My eye won’t stop twitching. The sounds of the crowd go still. I turn my attention back the way I came, and all the sounds that were dying, just aren’t. The more I do it, the more noticeable the audio change is between perspectives.

Okay, something’s definitely there… It’s a strange thing, but everyone here doesn’t seem to think about it. None of them even seem bothered or alarmed by the idea of a pegasus just messing with an empty space they happen to avoid so that’s proof enough.

I squint, get gloser, and see the rippling settle with a growing shadow against the wall. The more I lean in, the more steps I take towards it, the more borders become defined; the edges clearer, and the shadow becomes a definite carved hole in the wall. Illusion magic…

It’s odd. If it’s supposed to be a very discreet place, it’s not exactly hidden somewhere; anyone can just find it if they get close enough to where the spell stops obscuring it.

There are carvings along the top of the entrance. Are those supposed to be letters? Or just really bad writing? There’s no way I can read it, either way. Looking back to the dark entrance ahead of me, and back up at the arrow pointing towards it…

It couldn’t have been a more creepy welcoming mat, Stagona?..

If this is the way forward, I hope this Astron zebra isn’t any more a riddler than most others I’ve met today. I’m starting to think the way others address me is way too unnecessarily long than it needs to be. I came here for answers, and something short and to the point is what I need right now.

I make my way in, past the entrance to the first step. That strange itch—

* * * * * *

A dainty ball of light, wisping its way into my view to brighten the space around me. As gentle as it brightens, I can’t stop myself from wincing at it. Reaching for it, it just… bobs there for a little bit and softly dances around my forehoof. Feels like the way small hairs feel the slightest breeze touching them, but much more faint.

The light settles better, and I count every familiar divot, crack and crevice that make my room. Pulling myself up, everything feels about two times heavier than it should be. The blood in my head surges towards the front, and it swells into a throbbing pain that has me hanging over myself. Exhaling helps just a little.

I throw my hind legs off the side of the bed, letting my head hang like it’ll help with the annoying headache. I slept too long, didn’t I—

Something isn’t settling right. Here at my bed, I’ve seen this before. Every thought I think of having feels like it’s going to happen… happened, one-for-one. I look at one of my hooves, watching it wave and move around… it’s like everything swims in the uncanny.

I’ve seen this before… I’ve definitely seen this before…

A moment for myself. I take the time to jot a mental list to slowly go through everything I know I did…

I remember getting up just like this…

I remember the headache; the bag of marbles; the barding; the need to do… something…

I know I went out to spend… I set myself up for the basics; a weapon, basic gear… a receipt in my pocket…

A conversation I know happened with a Director… A debt I apparently owe for a Pipbuck…

Then I left that place, left behind the flock-crowd of pegasi… and then…

Everything matches up. The further down the mental list I go, the more solid things become until I reach something I just can’t. From the last fact I know happened, to here, in my bed …again?

I put a pin on the feeling, getting up, pacing around my room. The more I hold onto it the stranger it becomes. I can’t tell if I’m going to fall off or if I’m just hitting the wall about something that’s becoming less and less relevant. And somehow, I can’t let it go no matter how much I try.

The door opens and lets a shadow stretch in. Stagona’s there, and the look in her eyes is the same look as before: something mildly concerned, but trying desperately to hide some kind of disappointment.

She walks inside, closes the door, and sits in her spot across from me. The glowbulb dances between us as she gets comfortable, her jewelry rattles softly as her soft robes bunch up and flows into the sand.

This is different…

“I was told about your meeting with Astron and Doctor Hypothesis,” She says, “Ward… this is not going to be a normal occurrence, is it?”

Astron. I know that name, but not sure how or how well. The second one, though, “Did I… miss something?”

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and fixes the band across her head, “I suppose with what has been happening, you certainly are. That is what happens when the Law of Names is broken, unfortunately.”

Law of Names?.. Law of Names… No matter how many times I think about it, there is no air of familiarity coming to me. “What are ya talking about? What Law of Names? Do ya… know what happened?”

“I do,” She says simply, but somewhere in her voice there’s something that comes to me. Is she disappointed?

“Well… I guess it has something to do with the deja vu I’m having, then. Something ya and the Zebra did? Rooted in my mind again, only ya didn’t tell me this time?”

She looks taken aback, “No. No no no— never! We would never take from you without telling you.”

“Ya seem to know what’s going on— so what’s happening then? I’m feeling like I’m about to go in circles.”

“I will be forward with you, but first I will tell you that you are not going insane. What you are experiencing is a consequence of a broken Law.”

“And this isn’t some kind of political-based or social law…”

She nods, “Correct. This is one founded in magic and enforced by a pact. An ancient ritual used to safeguard secrets under specific requirements. As a matter of fact, it is why I have come to talk.”

The more I listen to her, the more she sounds like some kind of peevish principal or a drill sergeant on the way to simmering. There’s injustice in this. Am I supposed to feel guilty for something that happened that I don’t remember? That can’t be fair at all!

She finds the seat she’s always sat in, and cleans her robes, “I suppose I should ask just how much you remember, before we discuss anything else further. You can tell me everything you remember within the past couple of hours, and when you cannot, is when we will proceed.”

I want to say it’s a waste of time, but I can’t get past the feeling of being stuck in place with what’s occupying my mind… or what isn’t. She makes it sound so pivotal, and that alone is telling me to listen. For Avie’s sake.

I take my seat at the side of the bed, rub my forehead, and remember.

* * * * * *

“... Then that’s it. I didn’t think much about it the first time, and then when it happened a second time… well that’s when ya walked in. That’s when ya thought it would be a time for this.”

Stagona kept eye contact the whole way through. At least, that’s what I think from the moments I picked my head up to look at her. The longer she sits there now, unmoving and leaning on the seat like some kind of secretary, the more I think something’s coming. I don’t know what, but I hope she got what she thought to hear from that spiel.

The quiet is going on for way too long. I don’t know if I’m supposed to say anything more, or if she’s processing. All I see is that steely look in her eye, and I don’t know what’s going on in them.

“This circumstance…” she says, “I would want to call it equivocal, but at the same time find myself gravitating to the side of… I suppose I would want to call it a learning lesson. Yes, consider this a learning lesson.”

My head cocks to the side just slightly. “A learning lesson on… what?”

“Well, let me ask: do you remember what the Matriarch has told you regarding trust?”

I can see her mask bathed in that dim orange light of the room we sat in. Her words, I speak with the memory, “...everything is an exchange of respect and good will… remember this…”

“Good. Good that you remembered,” She says, almost sounding relieved. “I suppose I should now ask if you know what it means.”

“Ya telling me I don’t?”

She raises a hoof like I was about to pounce just then, “I only ask because when one says it, mutual understanding is achieved. Also, remember: it helps you, if you say it. I am not putting you anywhere, only wanting to ensure it stays with you moving forward. Please.”

I take a deep breath and run my hoof through my mane, scratching an itch on the way back to help the thoughts gather more easily. “All of ya kinda don’t speak very forward. I’m not used to it. It uh— it means—” C’mon… I know it’s there… Just need to string it together… “It means that I need to have more trust.”

“Partially right,” she says matter of factly, “You have a base understanding, and that is a start. But what is expected is that when you are given something, you take with a modicum of gratitude and respect…”

“You’re saying it like that, again.” I squint.

“Saying it like how? How do you mean?”

“You’re talking to me like I did something terrible; like I somehow upset ya on a personal level.”

“You did not,” she reaffirms. “I do not mean to come off as such. If anything I am worried about the circumstances created surrounding this. I am worried for you, specifically.”

“Then what? What did I do? Does it involve that… Law ya talked about a while ago?”

“Yes,” she says. “It involves that law: The Law of Names!”

“Ya still haven’t told me what it even is!”

“And I will!” She firmly states. The force in her words pushes me back a little, “The Law of Names is a countermeasure for our most dangerous and safeguarded secrets. It is in the name, itself, regarding what it involves. Ward, you have just excommunicated yourself from learning any of our knowledge of The Curse.”

Excommunicated from learning about The Curse? “I know what it is, though…”

“What you, yourself know, is not what is affected. It is whatever you learn, have learned, or will learn, from the Temple of the Skoteinós involving the Curse, that is.”

“I don’t…” My head is starting to hurt all of a sudden, “I don’t remember anything about any temple by that name.”

“That’s because the safeguard worked,” She tells me.

Nothing she is telling me is taking. Everything about it feels and sounds as fuzzy as static on a broadcast channel, “How? How did that happen?”

“The Law of Names is enacted when you give your name to the Keepers within the ritual’s circle. It is and always has been the only way to get inside that house of secrets. If anything breached the conditions that bind the law to your name, then it is activated.”

Something about this isn’t going away. I’m trying to be calm and collected about the whole situation. I know I am, but there’s a boiling feeling inside that’s telling me I shouldn’t take this bullshit…

“Ward,” She says, “you breached a condition, meaning that everything you have learned, up onto the point, is effectively ripped from your mind. More than that, but all knowledge you sought is now locked to you.”

Sure. Sure this might explain the holes in my head. I can believe it, all things considering the time I literally saw myself tell me things on this bed, but the deja vu was never a part of it. Not like this, “That shouldn’t explain—”

“It is a secondary preventative measure. For however long your name is deemed restricted, you are unable to go near the Temple of the Skoteinós. If anything, it is impressive you caught onto this on your own. You should not even be able to notice it, at all.”

How am I supposed to take that kind of statement at the end? Should I be proud or worried just like she is projecting. “Does that mean you’re impressed?”

She says nothing. All she does is just sit back in her spot, wiping her stripped brow, “I was informed that you had broken the Law by display of impatience and hostility. You had fallen into some state of anger, and after some time you removed your blindfold. That is what most definitely triggered it. I was informed only after you were brought back here the first time. The second was… well, you were well on your way back to the temple.”

I understand needing to take all of this in stride. I can get behind just taking whatever it is they tell me and just moving forward with it. But this? Another scenario where I get more holes in my head than much needed answers for Avie… Maybe that rising feeling in my gut is telling me something about all of this. It’s making my neck hurt just trying to keep a lid on me wanting to give some piece of my mind about the whole thing.

“So… everything’s laid out, now. Is that what you’re upset about?” I ask. “Ya upset because I inconvenienced ya trying to do…something with my spare time? I don’t remember what I was angry about, but I know I had a good reason for it.”

“No, Ward. No,” She firmly establishes, “I am upset because of what it means for you going forward, as I said previously.”

“Y’all are into this kind of magic, right? Isn’t there some kind of… loophole? An exemption to undo this messy bullshit?”

“No. No there isn’t.”

The lid cracks inside, “Bullcrap!”

“If I knew a solution— if there was a way for you to try again at this moment, I would be the first to try and undo it. But it is not up to me. I cannot alter the Laws established in the ritual.”

“Then who made it? What about them? They’d know how to undo it— there’s always someone who does this kind of thing, right?”

“That is not how it works, Ward.”

I shoot up from my bed, wings itching to flare open at her, “So tell me who, then. Tell me who, and I’ll handle—”

“You’re not listening to me!” She firmly says, “The ones who can do anything about it are long dead. Breaking the oldest magic is impossible. This is not like a machine or a gun you can fix with fine adjustment; this is not an ailment that can be remedied with alchemy or miracle. It is an establishment of an order upon a part of the world, invoked. It has happened, and there is nothing to be done.”

“Then stop it.”

“Ward—”

“I know what you’re saying, but…” I try to fumble the idea in my mind, letting the details sift until something substantial comes up. There’s always something… “... how about… you turn it off? It can be stopped, maybe whatever this thing going on with me stops too, and then… bring it back up—”

“It is not like a machine, Ward— you cannot just turn it off. Please, listen to me—”

“Why aren’t ya trying to help me here?!”

She stares at me with some ghost of disbelief coming across her face, “If I could, I would; if I had the power, I would. For you, for her… but I cannot. It is beyond me…”

There. She says it again. And it doesn’t feel any better hearing it. It wouldn’t feel any better hearing it anymore, right? Like hitting my head against a brick wall, and a mess of things creeps up on me with it. Dizziness, a heavy weight in my knees, and a need to sit down. I want to breathe… Not until I get the next couple of words out. I can’t do it without her looking at me like that.

It’s beyond her… It’s beyond me… It’s just a couple of holes in my memory. What they had… I could’ve used; whatever I learned, to save her. And I just had to fuck it all up, somehow. I don’t even know how I did it. That fact alone is burning in my mind like it’s got its own thing for sadism, and it’s creating a tight bubble in my chest that I don’t want Stagona to know about. I can’t stop reaching for my talisman… I keep fucking up the number of faces Mother has, again… And again… And—

My hooves come over my head, and I let myself fold tightly. To see the glow of my treasure, and try to find something to soothe. Why… Why aren’t ya… What did I do?..

“Ward—”

I jerk away from the creeping presence. All the words I want to say are so prickly and sharp, it hurts just to think about speaking. I can only take deep, sharp breaths. And then I try, “I’ll deal with this shit on my own in the morning! I’ll find my own answers! Just… go!”

I stay here, coiled up over the edge of my bed until I hear her hoofsteps leave out the door. It’s all quiet now. Nothing here to keep me company but the annoying bulb of light, and my own new-found stupidity.

Fuck me…

From the Department of Inter-Aridian Affairs to the Steel-Caravan Commission:

Director Irnes:

It has come to the Concert’s attention that the re-establishment of the Steel Caravan’s north-central route is going steady as planned, as reports come in to establish a near forty-five percent recovery rate of all assets damaged from the most recent Griffon-led incursion on the Steed Dutiful’s return route. A thanks would be in order for your continued attempts to revitalize our routes across the territory.

However, there are more pressing matters that have also come to all our attention. In light of recent events, pegasus unrest among us is on a slow rise. The Matriarch and the Inquisitora share growing concern of the Enclave’s objections to the no-fly order established in the wake of the raid. This being said, I implore that you and your attached salvage teams increase productivity so that this proverbial fire stays colder for just a little while longer.

Necessary steps have been taken to insure recovery rate is increased, and by the time you get this message more resources have been allocated and dispatched for the task. Among them are volunteers, one of which is indebted to the Company. To ensure the income, have him do what is necessary so long as it adheres to the tenets of labor and good standing.

I advise caution, all the same. The Concert shows intrigue in that one, but it does not mean he shall be treated any different from the others.

May the Sands pave your way, Director Irnes,

Feidynne, Director of Internal Affairs

Note 282:

That one still intrigues us all. His threads, how they sway when the veil is lifted, not unusual at first glance. It is when brought into proximity of curse-related peculiars that we see through them to know what hides inside. No, hide does not begin to describe it.

It does not fade from the naked eye like most, but the way it reacts to the Curse— like a dancer finding their tempo in a messy melody. And from the reports and testimonies, it very much confirms the Resonance Theory. More tests, pending.

Dr. Hypothesis knew. He knew, and wanted to see what would happen. His actions concern, and his methods are like a foal playing with a cracked vial of sticky fire. The Law of Names currently remains effective. In hindsight, what transpired did intrigue, and testimonies from Stagona currently show full integrity of memory rips.

He is currently not dangerous. Still not dangerous. I fear how long it will be until our most resilient safeguards are not enough. The chain has yet to tarnish, and that is good; the windows remain clear; the spirit spurred strong, but nonetheless volatile.

Perhaps it is best he remains oblivious; a blessing in disguise is the nature of the Knownauts. The less known, the better the chances for all of us— that is a factor we know for certain about The Curse. It does not excuse the actions of Dr. Hypothesis towards that pegasus.

For something like The Curse, we cannot afford to lose more to bull-headedness. We cannot afford to lose the opportunity we are given with him, either.

May the gods hear me, if they still can.

-A