Gynophobiaby Discombobulated SoulChaptersChapter Two - Ponyland Gets Really Old, Really FastChapter Three - Uncomfortable Questions Are AskedChapter Four - Potential Answers Are WithheldChapter Five - Freaky Flip-Flop Family Fosteringplease make it stopChapter Seven - Curiosity Killed The FillyChapter Eight - Forging IronChapter Nine - The Break Of DooChapter One - Or How I Got Completely Screwed OverChapter Two - Ponyland Gets Really Old, Really FastSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.Chapter Three - Uncomfortable Questions Are AskedHate is strong. Anger, I've found, empowers the body, mind, and soul. When one allows fury at the unfairness of existence to fuel their every move and thought, they become able to do things never before considered possible. I've strived for rage, for ire to consume me and let me fight back against the horrors in my life. The strength one can obtain from this course of action is equally exponential and incalculable. Sadly, I know none of this from personal experience. Though I have tried desperately, I can never hold on to anger for long enough. All too quickly, I am always overcome with another emotion. Fear, I've found, weakens the spirit, will, and wits. When one is forced to live life frightened at every corner, they begin to break down as a person. Existing in a constant state of terror hurts. Your psyche frays like old rope stretched too tight for too long. Your faculties fail you one by one until you're left useless, hopeless, and unloved by any mortal being that might have--should have--taken care of you. I know this from experience and I pray you never get to do the same. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. It's natural, then, to want--need--an escape. Some way to leave, get away from it all. If one can't fight a problem directly, naturally one must then flee from it. If not physically, then mentally. Sequestering myself in my own reflections has proven quite effective over the years. But I'm sure you know that by now. Again, I do think you'd like to do the same if you tried. You strike me as the sort of person who'd enjoy something like this. Do you think that, if we tried really hard and practiced often, we could phase out together? I don't even know what that'd look like, to be honest, but I feel it could be very interesting and informative, if nothing else. Maybe you'd actually be able to talk to me for once? Ah, but now isn't the time for such things. Maybe later, once I get myself out of this mess. Look at me, slipping into present tense accidentally. Whoops. There I was, shaking like the world's least aerodynamic leaf in the arms--legs?--of Thunderlane and dreading the events to follow. I thought he might have been muttering some other things, presumably reassurances, into my ears, but I was far too distressed to care all that much. At some point or another he stood, letting me back to my hooves, and made for the door. Of course, I trailed along right behind, probably resembling a lost puppy. Not my proudest moment, but we do what we have to, yeah? Anyway, I didn't--couldn't--pay much attention to our surroundings as we walked in silence. As far as I passively observed, they were only the typical hospital fare. At least, from what I knew without being in one before. I was mainly focused on looking out for any mares, as well as losing myself in memories of being human. Between that and following the near-black stallion, I had a full plate, so to speak. I think we descended some stairs at one point and we made a bunch of turns, winding through the labyrinthine building just like Pac-Man in that old arcade game. When we ground to a halt and I came to accordingly, I recognized the room of choice as that of a well-stocked kitchen. "Let me getcha some grub, Heath. What's a hungry bro like you feeling?" I blinked, confused by Thunderlane's question, before a rumble from below caught my attention. I jumped and glanced down, not a little startled by this, and the stallion started chortling to himself. Flushing red, I realized too late that the noise was in fact my stomach and I felt absolutely starved. "Aren't you just a patient? Why would they force you to make food, too?" I asked this with as much incredulity as I could manage, even while eagerly watching the dark grey pegasus set to work. He chuckled again, though whether it was from my question or the hungry look in my oversized pony eyes I didn't know. "Those mares'd be hard-pressed to keep a stallion like me from the kitchen. And they aren't 'forcing' me to do anything." He paused in filling a glass with water from the sink long enough to glance back at me with a strange twinkle in his golden eyes. "This is my way of giving back. With how often I end up in here and how well they always take care of me, I feel like I owe 'em something, y'know? And what's better than a homecooked meal, made with love?" My muzzle formed a wry grin as I settled on the floor and wiggled my eyebrows. "Oh, I can think of a few things..." To my moderate surprise, though, Thunderlane didn't blush and chastise me like I was expecting. Instead, he merely gave a sad little smile and crouched to hold the glass of water out to me. Instinctively, I reached out with a foreleg and curled nonexistent fingers around the cup, which to my further shock stuck to my hoof instead of falling to the floor when the stallion pulled away. "You remind me of my little brother Rumble," Thunderlane said as I opted not to question it and instead guzzled the contents with all the gusto of a fish in the Sahara. I couldn't remember the last time I had tasted water this pure; despite coming straight from the tap, this was the most refreshing and clean H2O I'd had in quite a while. It seemed Ponyland had some upsides, small though they were. "He's got a dirty sense of humor, just like you. Around the same age, too, I'd guess." This piqued my interest and I peeked up at him as my ears peaked to show my attention. Heh, English sucks. Gotta love it, though. "And what age is that?" The stallion gave me an odd look over his shoulder, but eventually shrugged to himself and returned to whatever dish he was making. I was too short to see over the counter, but I doubted I would recognize it if I could, anyway. "Around nine or ten, I'd say. Maybe a year or two younger; you're pretty small." I mulled this over, chewing softly on the inside of my cheek with my new flat horse teeth. "Not twenty-six, then." Thunderlane shook his head but didn't question my words, evidently not taking them seriously. In fact, he seemed to zone out a little as he continued to work, focusing almost entirely on making food. This left the small kitchen in near-total silence, but I wasn't much bothered and in fact quite content with it. Nine years, give or take a few. When this body was born, I'd been rushing to finish my senior project in time to graduate from high school. That year had been one stress-inducing event after another, and at the time I'd thought I would never be as anxious again. Boy, was I wrong. Poor little seventeen-year-old me had no idea of the hardships to come. Sometimes I look back and yearn for those simpler times, when it feels like my only pressing worry was completing school and getting an acceptance letter from college. I yearn, that is, until I remember returning late at night to a 'home' that... ...well... I won't bore you with the details. Something tells me you don't have need of them, anyway. I feel a sort of kinship with you, despite your silence. I think, perhaps, that you've been through some rough stuff, just like me. Maybe that's why we understand each other so well, despite the one-way communication. I want to thank you for letting me narrate what's happening like this. It really helps me process everything when I have that degree of separation, especially when I use past tense. "There you go, bro. Go ahead and eat up while I make more for the staff." All too suddenly, a wooden bowl filled with steaming, fragrant stew was placed on the floor in front of me. My eyes ballooned to the size of literal dinnerplates when I registered the scent. I know not where the unholy frenzy I devolved into came from, but the abominations I proceeded to enact upon that poor bowl were as unmentionable as they were undeserved. The very instant I smelled Thunderlane's cooking, some demon of ravenous destruction possessed my body and by the time I regained control, it was far too late to save any remnants of dignity. I found myself licking greedily at what droplets of stew had escaped the purge and gotten stuck in my fur. I ceased this action as soon as I could, but the damage had already been done. The bowl, having clattered to the floor, came to a stop and practically shone for how cleanly it was polished. The stallion could only openly stare at me with both eyebrows raised as I smiled sheepishly up at him. "You...uh...cook really well." Having lived off microwavable dinners and fast food for a good portion of my life, I'm sure you can understand why I was so caught by surprise. Moreover, while this new body apparently felt pain stronger than before, the same could evidently be said about taste. Pony food tasted incredible and for just a few moments, I'll admit, I was reconsidering my plan to escape. Thunderlane didn't reply. Instead, he crept forward and placed another bowl of stew in front of me. I eyed it with an expression much like that of a lioness stalking an antelope, but waited for his nod before partaking. Only then did I realize I was quivering in place and my gaze was flickering between the food and the stallion's face as if anticipating retaliation. So all-consuming (heh) was the stew, though, that I ended up not paying this very much attention. With only slightly less gusto than before, I dug in. Again, my hooves proved strangely effective at holding things as they lifted the bowl to my muzzle and idly I wondered what else they could accomplish. "You good, bro?" Thunderlane asked as he stirred something on the counter with a bandaged wing and looked at me with an expression halfway between 'worried parent' and 'disturbed spectator.' I waved him off, equally transfixed on both enjoying the stew and holding back tears. "Yeah. Fine," I muttered once finished. I declined a third bowl, much to the stallion's confusion. Better not to take risks, right? The kitchen was once more drenched in silence as I waited for him to be done. I curled up on the floor, still weakly shivering while he resumed, obviously quite perturbed by my actions. Whatever. It wasn't like I could change what he did. Best to just let it all wash over me. I startled at a hoof on my withers and the stallion flinched backwards. Only after I expectantly stared up at him for several moments did he cough awkwardly and give me the sort of look a nervous teenager might give a ticking pipe bomb. "It's...uh...time to go, Heath. I'm all done with the stew, and an orderly just came in to say they're ready for you." Really? I was honestly surprised I'd missed all of that, my phasing out notwithstanding. You'd have thought a whole other pony entering would draw my attention, but I suppose that's just how out of it I was. Even so, a question bubbled to the surface of my mind and I could feel my face scrunch as I asked it: "Who?" A deeply-unpleasant feeling was brewing within me and I didn't like it one bit. It felt like when I'd utterly flunked a test and just gotten the grade or turned in a badly-written paper that I knew wouldn't perform well. I was about to receive an undesirable answer to a question I hadn't even wanted to ask. "What do you mean?" Thunderlane's golden eyes flittered about every which way and he rubbed one foreleg with another, so I guessed he knew the answer to his own inquiry. This stallion was utterly befuddling me; he'd started out so confidant and reassuring, but now he seemed anxious and evasive. Was he somehow thrown off by my actions? I probably should've known better than to expect correction--he wasn't a female, after all, and thus wouldn't punish me for acting out of turn. "Who's ready for me?" He grimaced, strode towards the door, and replied: "The social worker. Now come on, Heath. Let's get you to her." Her. Reluctantly, I followed behind him. Contrary to before, I kept my distance from Thunderlane as we traveled through the sterile halls. Through his more-than-occasional glances back to me and utter silence, I gathered he'd become lost as to how to treat me; it seemed my antics had been alienating rather than endearing like I'd hoped. In efforts to avoid further confusion on his part I kept myself away, even when various nurses passed by and every instinct screamed at me to duck between his legs. I needed to gain every ally I could get in this strange place and to that effect I attempted to make conversation. "So, she sure came quickly, huh?" Unfortunately, I couldn't help but let my anxieties manifest as the subject of my opener. Ah, well, I'd just have to kill two birds with one stone; my many burning questions and making small talk! Look how efficient! "Yup. They prioritize colts quite heavily. Same-day response is just par for the course." Thunderlane's reply was curt and to the point. He didn't so much as look back at me as he spoke, but that might very well have been because we were approaching our destination: a nondescript pale door among many in a hallway just as forgettable. I hesitated outside when the other pegasus walked in, peering after him at the room beyond: A simple lounge, from what I could tell, complete with a few garish couches, abstract paintings, a wooden coffee table-- And two mares waiting patiently within. I dragged myself inside, a prisoner on death row marching to the courtyard where I'd serve my final sentence. The executioners eyed me as I entered. I didn't know the unicorn holding a clipboard in her hooves, but I did recognize Doctor Redheart seated on a recliner to the left. "Why're you here?" She blinked, obviously puzzled by my question, but was ready with an answer soon after. "It's F.P.S. protocol. No one mare can be alone with stallions at any given time. I...volunteered." There was something odd on her face at the end there, but otherwise it was completely emotionless. The point was, I couldn't see any traces of dishonesty, so my attention then returned to Thunderlane. Poor sop. He looked like he couldn't want to be there any less and kept eyeing the door. The unicorn had put on what I would guess was a pleading expression as she gestured for him to sit. Finally and with great trepidation, he did so and I followed suit after stalking a few feet closer. "Hello, Heath," began the clipboard-clutching mare. "How are you today?" I grunted and huddled closer to both myself and Thunderlane, expecting a consoling wing to settle itself around my shoulders. Was it just me, or did the stallion scoot away from my shivering body? "Fine," was my curt reply. I strove to keep all emotion from my visage and become as closed-off as possible. I couldn't let either mare have anything to work with. The moment I gave something away, they would win and I'd suffer that much more pain in the future. I don't expect you to follow along with my logic here. Something tells me you don't have the same experiences with females as me. I'm glad for that--really, I am. Somehow, you understand me anyway and that's a wonderful thing. "Do you know where you live, Heath?" I stifled a giggle. Heck yeah, I knew where I lived. This was one thing I could tell her that wouldn't aid her machinations in the slightest; wherever Ponyland was, I could assume with reasonable accuracy that Earth was not anywhere nearby. "Crestview Apartments, Manhattan, New York, U.S. of A. Planet Earth, third rock from the sun," I rattled off with a cheeky grin. The worker pretended to write stuff down, but I was onto her. That must've sounded like complete nonsense and there was no way any of it helped her. "Which room?" She asked. Mine wasn't the only confused look; both Thunderlane and Doctor Redheart joined me in staring at the unicorn as though she'd sprouted a second head. So off-put by this was I that I forgot to hide my reaction and left myself vulnerable. "Uh...five-oh-nine, fifth floor." Again, she proceeded to write something down and I spent the scant seconds I was allotted trying to recompose my poker face. I was met with mixed results, my efforts cut off with another question: "Do you know where you are?" Not in Kansas anymore, Toto. I didn't bother to voice the joke, though; something told me it wouldn't exactly be appreciated. At least you get it, so my wit doesn't go completely to waste. I opened my mouth to spew out something clever and spiteful, perhaps to the effect of: 'no ma'am, no clue other than some pony hospital with pervert nurses.' Yeah, that'd be good. Maybe let her know I'm onto her, too, and she can't fool me with the weird questions and fake scribbling. "Ponyville, Equestria. Second-largest country on planet Equus." ...what. Do you know where that came from? No, don't look at me like that. I'm genuinely asking because I have no idea. Actually, now I'm freaking out because that information came from nowhere and that means I don't know where it came from and if that's true then how much else can I just randomly come up with and wait, what if that means I've actually just come up with everything and nothing matters any more so I might as well just-- No, you're right. I should calm down and think about this. I phased out while we were walking to and from the kitchen, so I could have easily overheard it then. Or maybe this pony body just comes with some knowledge built-in about my whereabouts? I honestly don't know which explanation is more likely, but the fact that they exist should be enough for now. "...should talk about fostering. Thunderlane, he seems to like you. Would you and your herd be willing to take Heath in?" My gaze shoots straight to the stallion as I tune back in. He looks deeply uncomfortable and hesitates to answer. It seems like he's purposefully avoiding my hope-filled eyes. He coughs, bows his head a little and... ...he rejected me. Something hurt, deep inside. I won't be so cliche as to say my heart broke, but it stung to have my only ally turn on me like that. Worse, I didn't understand why and none of his cited reasons made any sense. Something about 'too much responsibility' and 'he wouldn't want to mess up' and 'too young for foals yet anyhow.' All bullcrap. Didn't he know that messing up would be leaving me behind? And I wasn't a foal; we'd only be the equivalent of roommates while I stayed. Sure, the system wouldn't see it that way but he'd figure out I was an adult like him and then he wouldn't have to worry about the responsibility! I could take care of myself! Heaven knows I've had to! Ah, but I was showing too much emotion. Growing too attached. It wouldn't matter in the end; I would get out of here and back to my average life soon enough. Perhaps it was better that Thunderlane stayed distant and saved himself the heartache of watching me leave. I should have done the same. Instead I'm a blubbering mess as he bolts out the door. Ugh, present tense again. Sorry about that. "We can foster Heath." I startle at the sound of Redheart's voice and realize-- Wait, no. Give me a second. ... Abruptly, I startled at the sound of Redheart's voice and realized she'd come a few steps closer, ducking low to be about eye level with me as she held out a hoof. I offered the doctor my finest stink eye, but couldn't make myself shuffle back away from her. It was like all the energy in me had decided to take a trip to the Bahamas, leaving my pony body to lie there in a pathetic puddle of tears. Jeez, that's just sad. Despite my best efforts, I was reduced to tears by the slightest betrayal. Some man I am. Can't even defend that. Anyway, it didn't much matter what expression I gave the earth pony; she wasn't looking at me in the first place and instead appeared to be in a staring contest with the social worker. "My herd and I, that is. We already have two foals to our name. And he's at least somewhat familiar with me." I just realized I said 'earth pony.' Where'd I get that phrase? More built-in horse knowledge? Or did I simply eavesdrop without knowing? "That sounds like the next best option. Would your husband be okay with it?" What else have I been saying? I'm thinking back to all my descriptions and finding a worrying amount of suspicious knowledge. Did I know the term 'withers' before? What about 'pegasus?' I feel like that one's pretty mainstream so maybe it's passable, but there must be more that I'm forgetting. "I'll ask once I head home tonight, but I doubt he'll have any issues. Same with the other mares." That seemed to be the end of it, judging by how both ponies stood and headed for the door. I took a few steps after, but it wasn't long before rebellion blossomed and I planted my hooves in the carpet. Clearly, I'd done enough blind following and I needed to be more proactive. I wouldn't let these mares push me around everywhere, no matter how big, strong and scary they were. Doctor Redheart opened the door and glanced back at me, quirking a brow at my disobedience. A question blazed to the forefront of my mind, one fused with enough impudence that I couldn't help but voice it: "What if I don't want to be fostered?" Okay, that came out far more petulant than I'd intended, but it still felt good to fight back. The social worker who still hadn't bothered to share her name paused, tapping her muzzle with a hoof. When she responded, her sugary 'talking to a kid' voice hid the threat about as effectively as a whale taking cover behind a single strand of kelp. "Well, we'd have to track down any living family you have and hoof you over. From what you've told us about your herd, something tells me you wouldn't like that very much." I blinked, contemplating, while Redheart shot the unicorn an incredulous expression. She seemed dead serious and the message couldn't be more overt: Defy us, and we'll return you to suffering. "Can't you just leave me alone? I can take care of myself." She actually burst out in giggles at that, waving dismissively at my unamused visage. "Oh, definitely not. A foal, making it by themselves in the big world? What's more, a colt? I'd be fired in minutes! Burned at the stake!" The worker gave one last chuckle before making one last comment, "you're a riot, kiddo," and striding out the door without so much as looking back. Both Redheart and I stood there, one in a shocked stupor and the other in silent consideration. Alright, so it looked like rebelling wouldn't get me very far. It was about this point when I realized I didn't exactly have a plan of action. Granted, I hadn't done much, but that was exactly the problem. Blindly following ponies everywhere like a sheep wouldn't lead to my escape--and yes, I did need to escape. Sticking around for much longer would only lead to pain, the nurse had shown me that. The question, then, was how to get out. I glanced over at my tiny chartreuse wings. Anyone with a lick of sense could tell they'd never support my weight--those primaries were five inches long, max--but maybe, if magic really was real here, they could help me out. I tried clenching various muscles on my back, but they remained stubbornly clamped to my barrel for now. Fruitlessly, I bit my lip and continued, straining with the effort. Gosh, flying would be worth everything. Can you imagine? Just soaring high above the earth without a care in the world, every conceivable problem far, far below, unable to reach you. "Well, Heath, it's time to get back to your room." To her credit, the doctor seemed genuinely remorseful about it, so I didn't hold it against her all too much. Her. I had to be more wary. I couldn't trust Redheart, no matter what she did or how safe she seemed. Any minute now she'd turn on me, pin me to the wall and take what I knew she wanted. I opted not to reply and simply trailed behind her when she turned to go, disgusted by my obedience. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about that. I have no idea why she acted that way." I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I practically galloped to keep up with the doctor. Seeing this, she thankfully slowed her pace, but that only ensured my scornful glare into her oversized icy blue orbs reached full effect. "I do: She's a female." That was answer enough, but Redheart still seemed confused as she led the way through the maze-like hallways. I cleared my throat and oh-so-matter-of-factly finished. "They love to scare people and make them suffer. You're all the same." She blinked and abruptly turned a corner, to which I struggled to catch up. "I don't love making people suffer. I'm a doctor. Isn't that kind of the opposite?" I tensed and froze when we passed a nurse, but thankfully Redheart waited for me and even gestured for the other mare to hurry up when she hesitated. I was silent for a while, thinking the doctor's words over, but eventually came to a conclusion: "No. It's probably just a cover so you can hurt even more people. You probably have to harm even more to make up for the ones you heal every day." Somehow, I meant every word despite the frankly-illogical nature of the argument. She saw this and fell silent, unable to come up with a good response. Probably because there wasn't one. I was tired, scared, and indescribably wary of what the next day would bring. My only consolation was the hope that Redheart's husband would take pity on me and help me get out of here. Let's cross our fingers, yeah? Chapter Four - Potential Answers Are WithheldDoctor Redheart stared evenly at the closed door. Behind it, she knew, was a troubled colt of unclear origin that desperately needed her help--more so than males usually did. It hadn't been long since she dropped Heath off at the room within; minutes at most, during which she'd stood and stared quite uncharacteristically. Redheart was a mare of action, but the fatigue that'd overtaken her didn't seem much concerned with such personality traits. Even now, her head drooped to the floor as she absently recalled that her shift had been over two hours ago. The time had long passed since she was meant to be heading home, but there were some things the mare couldn't walk away from. ...and that was probably why she was left standing there in the hallway. There was great hesitation felt in regards to leaving Heath unsupervised; the one time that'd happened, the colt had managed to seriously injure himself and there was no telling if he would again. Redheart hoped he had the sense to take it easy, but considering his age and gender, predicting Heath's actions was all but impossible. What was more, if their suspicions were correct... The doctor had conducted surgeries, amputated limbs, and had ample experience with needles. Nothing much phased her anymore. But she still found herself shuddering at the thought. Redheart struggled to back away from the door and begin her trip home. It felt like her mind had split along several different desires and, much to her chagrin, no clear course of action emerged. She ended up pulling an orderly aside when she passed the mare in the hallway, leaning close to mutter into her perked ears. "Make sure the new colt is under surveillance; he may hurt himself if left alone." The orderly nodded, but Redheart noticed her incredulous expression even through her fatigue. "Of course, doctor," the mare said in a tone that was less 'I will obey your order' and more 'obviously, you weirdo. Why would we do anything else?' Redheart shrugged it off and carried on. Next on her spontaneous to-do list was to visit the F.P.S. representative, Violet Mist. The social worker's behavior had been unacceptable and she intended to find out why. The paperwork and general bureaucracy required for fostering a colt would surely be immense, so the doctor figured her target wouldn't have left the building yet. Her hooves dragged on the polished, sterile floor and she caught herself stumbling far too often on her way back to the meeting room. Sighing, the earth pony leaned against the doorframe of her destination, lifting a hoof to rub at her bleary eyes as she tuned in. Doctor Redheart was familiar with Ponyville General. Had spent over thirty years of her life almost exclusively within its walls. The phrase 'knew it like the back of her hoof' fell entirely short of describing her grasp on the building. Countless times had she dashed through the halls, letting her knowledge of the structure guide her in the midst of an emergency. As Head Physician, her duties all but required complete and total attunement. As any long-established building in Equestria, the hospital had a sort of life to it. Not just the poetic kind, used to describe bustling nurses and busy ponies. Magic had long suffused its walls and, being an earth pony, Redheart had special abilities with living things. Again, the mare set off, turning down a different hallway as she followed the trail Violet Mist had left. It wound around the second floor a ways before finally seeming to find a staircase. The doctor stumbled down, scarcely managing a cordial nod to those she passed and regretting her choice not to have that seventh cup of coffee. Soon enough, the blazing trail ended in a stereotypical office room, one set aside for various paperwork ahead of time and kept well-stocked with supplies. There the social worker sat, busily filling out several forms at once with pens held in her icy blue aura. The swivel chair she sat on squeaked as she shifted, but the unicorn never glanced behind her at the door, even when Redheart made her noisy entrance. "Alright, what the buck was that about?" The doctor huffed, coming to a full stop as she squinted at the back of a pale purple mane. Violet Mist paused her writing, but stayed facing away and only turned her head a fraction. "I'd have thought you'd be heading home already. Is there not another doctor ready to take her turn at the helm?" Redheart scowled, not appreciating the reminder, and stomped closer. "Don't play games with me. I came personally to find the reason you threatened a foal under your care. A colt, no less." The earth pony straightened, feeling the heavy grasp of fatigue loosen under righteous fury. "If you don't give it, there will be Tartarus to pay." Violet's ears perked up and she finally spun her chair around to eye the doctor's imposing form up and down. The social worker's eyes bulged when she saw just how dead serious Redheart was, as well as the locked door behind them she'd softly closed seconds prior. Instantly, Violet raised her hooves in a placating gesture, set the papers she was levitating down on the desk, and deactivated her horn. "Please calm yourself, ma'am. I was only worried for your health. You seemed quite exhausted." The doctor's sole response was to raise an unimpressed eyebrow, her face carved from stone. The unicorn sighed, gazing up at it with a rueful expression. "Alright, you'll get your answers. Must you receive them immediately, though? Can't this wait until you've rested up?" Redheart contemplated the point, but not for very long. "I have been entrusted with the care of dozens of males. I don't take threats to them lightly." She lowered her head until it was level with Violet's, all but staring into her soul. "You will tell me why you, a mare I contacted for help, saw fit to traumatize a colt under my care even further than he evidently is already. If you refuse, I will ensure you never get the chance to do so again." The social worker gulped audibly, again gesturing with her hooves while trying and failing to scoot her chair away. "Fine, fine! Would you at least take a seat?" But Redheart refused and simply stood there, less to make a point and more because she feared sleep would claim her the instant she relaxed in any way. The representative, seeing this, sighed once more and began: "Heath is incredibly fearful of mares. Where this originates from, whether events in his past or natural coltish wariness, we'll have to investigate later. One thing was and still is clear to me," she pointed at the doctor with a hoof, nearly striking her chest for how close they were. "You, a mare, are going to foster him. Heath may be starting to trust you, but he's still unsure if you're really different." The foreleg waved dismissively in the air as Redheart raised both brows and Violet finished. "I had to reinforce how much you stood out by acting exactly how he'd expect. Simple, really. I push him away from me and, consequently, make your job easier for you." That seemed to be the end of the social worker's justification, judging by her satisfied smile and abrupt silence. The doctor slumped, stumped by the unexpected nature of the answer, and sat in contemplative stillness for many moments. "And you think that making him believe he'll ever be returned to potential abusers as punishment is somehow the best way?" Incredulity all but extinguished the raging fire of her wrath and now the earth pony could only stare at Violet, feeling fatigue return all too fast. The unicorn pursed her lips, but that sly smile soon returned and her horn relit to levitate the documents once more. "Did he or did he not follow you back to his room of his own volition?" Redheart opened her muzzle to interject, but found herself at a loss for words. "That's right. You may not believe in my methods, but you can't deny their effectiveness." Violet swiveled back to face her desk, raising the pens in her aura in preparation to resume her task. "Now if you'll excuse me, doctor, I have some paperwork to do. And, if I'm not mistaken, you have a herd to get home to." The earth pony wanted to argue, to protest this ethically-shallow manipulation with the well-tested moral compass she possessed. Still, the weight that descended down upon her once the anger left had no tolerance for such things. Thoughts of her waiting husband, herdsisters, and fillies filled her mind, bidding her turn to unlock and open the door. "This conversation isn't over," she managed to mutter through slurred speech, but the social worker made no acknowledgement. So, Doctor Redheart traveled on. It was a simple matter to clock out for the night; decades of habit made the process effortless and anypony that took one look at her face saw that she desperately needed to go home. The system she'd established was a remnant of her time in nursing; Ponyville General, as a relatively large hospital, had enough doctors under its employ to support working shifts much like any other faculty member. To be sure, there were occasional hiccups--tonight being one of them--but it had proven to be a largely effective system regardless. Crisp September air caressed Redheart's body upon her exit and she took a few seconds to stand there, breathing it in. Seconds became minutes and she jolted suddenly, swaying on legs that had nearly collapsed in the throes of sleep. The mare shook herself and let out a nicker of disapproval, settling into a light trot. Ponyville was a small farming town, so any form of nightlife was all but nonexistent. Dark windows and closed doors were everywhere she looked and the near-silent streets compared to a bustling hospital felt almost like a slap to the face. The doctor's matted pink mane hung low over her eyes, obscuring her view of the night sky above. Normally she'd brush it aside and ensure she looked professional at all times, but the energy simply wasn't there. Many crickets and the odd rustle echoed out from around her. Redheart's ears twitched minutely as they took in the sounds, swiveling in place while she worked to keep her head up. She slowed when another noise made itself known, eyeing her immediate surroundings with a raised brow. "Hello?" Redheart asked before movement drew her gaze. A dark, vaguely-equine figure stood a ways away, shuffling toward her at a snail's pace. The earth pony squinted, craning her neck to peer into the dim moonlight, and approached. It had its head lowered, whatever it was, and its body language said it had the same lack of energy as her. With further proximity, she was able to make out a grey-blue coat and a spiky, navy mane. Finally, two pairs of eighth notes on the pony's flank had Redheart's eyes widening in recognition. "Noteworthy!" Earlier in the day the doctor would have galloped, but instead she broke into a lurching half-canter as her legs nearly gave out. "What are you doing out so..." She paused right in front of the stallion, taking in his closed eyes and the string of drool hanging from his muzzle. "Of course. Sleepwalking again." Noteworthy continued to stumble right on by and she watched, blinking, before shaking her head and raising a hoof. Ever-so-gently, Redheart made contact with the stallion's shoulder and shook it. Despite her best efforts, he immediately lost any sense of balance and keeled to the side, but she caught him with a foreleg and eased him upright. Doing so was effortless--even as an earth pony, Noteworthy was a stallion and thus lighter than air--but that still left him deep in Princess Luna's realm of dreams. "Alright, plan B." The mare muttered, angling and guiding both herself and her charge until he walked face first into her chest tuft. The slumbering stallion stopped short, inhaling the scent for several moments before he grunted and his eyes finally opened. Noteworthy's golden irises flicked every which way, clouded by a confused haze, until they settled on Redheart's face and suddenly cleared. "Doctor?" He inquired in a wispy tenor, muffled somewhat by volumes of white fur. The mare nodded, steadying him with her hooves before responding. "Yes, Noteworthy. It's me. Are you feeling alright?" Her brows invisibly creased together as she looked down at him, but the rest of her expression became stoic and strong. The stallion blinked, seemingly taking time to ponder his situation, but eventually nodded back. "Yeah. I'm just peachy. Was I..." He glanced around again, actually taking in the darkened street and high moon before returning his gaze to her with rueful eyes. "...again?" Redheart didn't need to nod; her shift in expression was all it took for the stallion to sigh and step back. She let him do so, but still kept a wary eye out lest he collapse again. "Haven't you been taking the pills I prescribed?" Her brow raised at Noteworthy's sheepish expression and ventured further up her forehead when he opened his muzzle, failed to find words, then closed it and shook his head. "Is there a reason why?" Redheart did her best to keep any exasperation out of her voice, but the stallion still flinched away from the question. "I...don't like the way they make me feel." Noteworthy stuck his tongue out and grimaced as though in memory. "Or how they taste." The doctor suppressed both a yawn and a sigh, lowering her head to be level with his. "I'm very sorry about that, Noteworthy. But you must take them. Wandering out here in the middle of the night is incredibly dangerous. You know this." He scuffed his hoof against the ground and seemed properly ashamed, so the mare touched hers to his withers--lightly, of course, so as not to bruise him. "Are your mares not helping you? They must be worried sick--" unbidden thoughts of Heath flooded Redheart's mind and she stopped short, all but glaring at the stallion with sudden intensity. "They are treating you well, right? Because if something is happening at home then so help me--" "--No! I mean--yes! We--we're all good. My herd is wonderful!" Noteworthy seemed genuine enough, but the doctor stayed right in his face for several moments more, searching for any sign of anything. He smiled sincerely, hesitating a little before adding: "I asked them not to make me take it. Made a huge fuss about it, too. Eventually, I convinced them that letting me have my way was better than listening to my whining all night." The stallion returned her gesture, stumbling as he lifted his foreleg and all but punching her shoulder in search of balance. The mare didn't so much as blink from the impact, it being slightly stronger than a soft breeze. "My mares are good. We love each other. There's nothing going on. I promise." Finally convinced, Redheart stepped back, gently setting the stallion's foreleg on the ground as she forced herself to relax. "Woe to the mare that dares disobey her stallion's whimsy. I'm sorry for assuming things about your herd, Noteworthy. I hope you'll forgive me. I just had to be sure." Noteworthy smiled softly, wiping the tears out of his eyes as he edged closer. "Let's get you back to them, eh? I'll walk you home." Her every tired cell resisted such a proposition, knowing he lived quite far from her own abode, but seeing a stallion safely home took priority over anything else. He definitely appreciated the offer, if his glancing around at the dim street and deep sigh of relief was any indication. "Thanks, doc. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the trouble." Redheart gave a wordless nod in reply and off they went. She remained vigilant throughout the journey, watching intently for dips in the paths or any stray stones that might be a tripping hazard for her charge. Several times, Noteworthy nearly strode right into several of such things, but luckily she was there with a swift nudge to guide him around them. A tumble would have been catastrophic and Redheart simply didn't have the magic left to treat another male's injuries. Forlornly, the doctor watched her own house pass by as they walked at the stallion's pace. It was the only building with lights on in sight, showing at least some of her herd was waiting for her return. She knew her husband likely wouldn't be sleeping with her not home; he had a bit of an anxious streak, despite his best efforts to hide it. A picture came to mind of him sitting just behind the doorway, sandwiched by her herdsisters as they tried futile comforts, ears perked forwards in search of hoofsteps from outside... A rush of guilt--powerful enough to be felt past the fatigue--made her shake away such thoughts and focus on the task at hoof. And soon enough, the house passed on by. "Almost there," muttered Noteworthy. His escort barely stifled her sigh of relief in time, but managed to keep her projection of strength and emotionlessness uninterrupted. Redheart walked right across several loose and wobbly cobblestones, but turned to offer a supporting hoof before letting her companion do the same. He took it, grinning in gratitude, and all but collapsed onto her raised foreleg when his knees buckled. With no more effort than if she'd done it without the weight of his body, the doctor lifted her leg a few inches higher and took several steps forward on the remaining three. Noteworthy was again set gently on the ground and he chuckled to himself as she took the lead. "You mares, heh..." He shook his head, breaking into a canter to catch up. "Sometimes I forget just how...imbalanced...things are." Redheart allowed herself another raised brow, glancing over at him as they rounded the final bend. "That's why it's so dangerous for you to be unaccompanied, Noteworthy. What if you'd fallen on a rock while sleepwalking? Stepped on a loose stone? Or what if somepony tried to take advantage of you in the dead of night?" The stallion had been nodding along until her last statement, upon hearing which he cocked an eyebrow of his own and incredulously glanced back at her. "In Ponyville, doc? I doubt anypony who dared try would get away for long." The confidence he said this with was immense, but Redheart found she still couldn't believe them fully. Perhaps because thoughts of Heath still hadn't left her mind. "You'd be surprised." Noteworthy clearly wasn't convinced, but her next statement cut any retort short: "Looks like we're here." A modest home greeted them, cozy and undeniably Ponyville in appearance. Furnishing and various decorations suggested it being a stallion's residence, but the true indication was the herd emblem inscribed on the door. Three pairs of eighth notes, a golden lyre, three wrapped candies and a pink treble clef all entwined together in a stylized fashion. It was unmistakably the sign of the town's most musical herd. Ponyville law mandated that every full herd have their emblem emblazoned on their home's doors. It was just one of the many measures that ensured any lost males were safely returned, no matter the cost. "Thank you again, doctor. I really owe you one." Noteworthy ascended the steps and reached for the handle, but paused and gave a questioning look when the doctor followed. "I'd like to speak with one of your mares." Redheart's muzzle formed a reassuring smile, but it failed to mask the steel in her icy blue eyes. "This can't continue." He winced in reaction, offering a tentative grin. "It won't, I promise. Please don't yell at my wives about it. Really, it's my fault." When she didn't move, he sighed and placed a hoof on her chest, into which it sank several inches thanks to the fur. "I'll tell them to make me take the pills myself. After tonight, I'm too guilt-tripped to do anything else. You have your own herd to get back to, right? I'm sure they're waiting." Noteworthy was insistent but appeared sincere, and that meant she was out of options. Barging into a herd's home uninvited in the middle of the night wasn't something civilized mares did outside of an emergency. Since the stallion had every intention to take care of the problem himself, her further interference wasn't needed. Upon realizing this--and reflecting on his words--Redheart let out a deep sigh. "You're right. But please do as you say. I'll be following up on this later." Noteworthy nodded and gave another smile, opening the door and taking a few steps inside as the interaction concluded. "As you should. I'll see you then, doc." With an answering nod, the door closed. Her remaining tasks dwindled to one. Doctor Redheart was free to return home. Any joy that might have arisen from this development was buried deep. The mare's hooves dragged instead of skipped as she turned back the way she'd come. A stiff breeze blew her pink mane back, letting her gaze up at the September night sky. A few constellations caught her attention and her eyes traced the elegant forms of Aeo, Faren, and Pseudocles, slightly different compared to last night thanks to Princess Luna's experimentation. Ramdar and the Four Tribes were hidden behind cloud cover, but Redheart had never been too interested in those ones anyway. Really, she was only focusing on constellations to avoid collapse into slumber. Belatedly, the earth pony's home came into view for the last time that night. She picked up the pace as she approached, breaking into a trot, then a canter, then a near gallop until finally, finally, her hooves crossed the porch and landed on the front handle. Redheart didn't give herself any time to contemplate the emblem on the door as it all but flew open. She was too focused on the relieved and delighted expression on the masculine face of the pony inside. "I'm home," she breathlessly announced. Immediately, the beige forelegs of her husband ensnared themselves around her neck and she found herself enveloped in a passionate kiss. Closing her eyes to enjoy it to the fullest, she felt herself tipping to the side, unable to remain upright, but thankfully a presence on Redheart's left buoyed her up in time. She was the first to break away, panting softly as she gazed into her lover's royal blue eyes and returning the heartfelt nuzzle that followed. "I missed you..." He murmured, somehow expressing hours of worry in those three short words. Redheart kissed him again, lightly, on the nose, and expressed her apology by touching their foreheads together. "I know, Whoovsie. I missed you too." The stoic mask she'd been wearing with Noteworthy melted away entirely in the presence of her herd. Redheart's husband Time Turner was able to take full stock of her fatigue, as could her herdsisters. She'd never hide from her family. Not like that. "Rough day at the office?" Minuette asked from beside her, grunting softly as she shifted under the white mare's weight. As a female earth pony it wasn't exactly dismissible and the unicorn visibly struggled before resorting to levitation. Redheart felt herself lifted off her weary hooves in her herdsister's yellow aura, still entangled in their affectionate husband's forelegs. Time Turner had taken to burying his snout in her neck and breathing in the scent, letting its calming narcotic effect take root of his mind. Redheart didn't bother to open her eyes, knowing she and her husband were being carted upstairs to the master bedroom and, from the two sets of hoofbeats echoing behind, her herdsisters were coming too. The thought of being put to bed like a disobedient filly despite being Alpha Mare was hardly amusing, but she found she was too tired to care. "Like you wouldn't believe," was the earth pony's response. The sound of light switches flicking off, interspersed with the swirling sound of the magical aura both she and Time Turner were encased in, reached her drooping ears. Then, another voice. "It must've been something really bad," said Ditzy. "You're not usually this tired. What happened?" Her tone was inquisitive, but also not a little accusatory. The undertone of 'it better excuse you making our stallion worry for three hours' was very much present. Redheart sighed and started drawing circles on her husband's back with a hoof--gently, of course, so as not to bruise him. "There's a...colt," she began, pausing to peck her lover's mane when he shivered under her ministrations. "His name is Heath. Flitter and Cloudchaser brought him in, said they found him on the edge of Ponyville. He has...scars...consistent with--" Redheart clenched her closed eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat and focusing on her breath for several moments. The creak of a door's hinge, then she was settled on a plush surface she recognized as their nest. One massive, circular mattress covered in sheets, blankets, and pillows, modelled after that of a bird. Comfy and practical, much to the satisfaction of every party involved. "We stitched him up and put Heath in the youth ward, but he woke sooner than expected. Managed to hurt himself far too badly not to be concerning. Tore open his leg and broke his muzzle in three places." Gasps from all three other herdmembers finally had the white earth pony opening her eyes. Ditzy looked horrified, so much so that her lazy eye had straightened while both pupils shrunk. Minuette's expression was grim, from what she could see in what scant light came through the window. Poor Time Turner clutched at her neck and pulled himself yet closer against her, still shivering. Tired, worried, and scared: Those were the emotions that tended to made her husband cuddly, and right now, the trifecta was complete. "He's okay now. I healed him up and saved his life. It took a lot out of me, especially regenerating the lost blood, and that's why I'm so tired. But listen," Redheart's tone grew urgent and the others leaned in. "Heath needs a new home. His previous herd is..." She paused, seething, but continued: "...unfit to raise a colt, that much is clear. Since he and I'd had some experience together, I offered us as a foster home. I know it's a lot to take in, but even though he's very troubled I hope--" Ditzy placed a hoof over the earth pony's muzzle, cutting her off from rambling any more before she offered a sincere smile. "Of course, Red. I think I speak for all of us when I say we don't have a problem with that. I'm sure Dinky and Amethyst will be thrilled to have a brother!" Vehement nods accompanied this notion and Redheart found herself relaxing as the stress of the day finally left. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." Minuette lit her horn in a yellow aura, levitating the various blankets and bodies around until everypony was comfortably situated. "And on that note, I think we should sleep. Let's worry about all of it tomorrow." Again, vehement nods accompanied this sentiment, from Redheart most of all. The day had been long, exhausting, and rife with confusion. But she knew that, with her herd behind her, she could take on anything. Finally, belatedly, gladly, Doctor Redheart dozed off. Chapter Five - Freaky Flip-Flop Family FosteringBeds are a most ponderous creation. I have to wonder at what point the current model was decided upon. Sure, there are slight variations in style and appearance, but, at least in my experience, differences between designs are marginal at best. Four legs, a headboard, ample room on the high-quality mattress... ...alright, you caught me. I've never once slept on a good mattress. But hey, a guy can dream, right? Pun intended, by the way, because despite the usual poor quality of my sleep, I do dream quite often. Mostly about the mundane things in life, like going to school, taking walks through the town, and immersing myself in stories. I don't really have nightmares--or, maybe it's just that I don't consider them that scary anymore. After long enough, you kind of just get used to things, y'know? Beds. I have had ample experience with beds, if not high-quality ones. They don't frighten me much anymore, since I realized a while ago that it wasn't the mattress' fault what happened atop it. The same is true for all sorts of creations. Things can hardly be held accountable for what they're forced to do, right? And maybe that even applies to people. Desperation and prevailing authority can make anyone crumble, but it's not their fault, right? Heh. If only it was that simple. I'm lying atop a bed right now. It's the one in my hospital room. Kinda stiff and too high off the ground for my tastes, but the soft linens and fluffy pillows are quite pleasant. I'd rate it a solid eight out of ten. I'm really tired, so it probably feels nicer than it is. That's why I'm not thinking in past tense, by the way. That takes concentration and energy that I don't seem to have after recent happenings. ...what? Don't look at me like that! You want me to go to sleep, don't you? That's utterly ludicrous. I don't think I've ever heard anything that makes less sense in my entire life. You do realize where I'm at, right? A weird horse hospital that's run exclusively by females? I can't think of any places that would be less safe to lose consciousness in. Heck, the last time I fell asleep in here--unwillingly, mind you--I woke up to a psycho nurse making every effort to scare my newfound chartreuse coat off. No, what I need to do is find a way out. Yeah, as if that's going to happen. I'm stuck in a brand new quadrupedal body that's only half-operational, one too weak to even open the window, let alone run away at any serviceable clip. I'd make it maybe a mile before collapsing, especially with how tired I am. The hallways are even less of an option; given how many nurses and orderlies we passed on the way here, sneaking by simply will not work. Worse still, they're watching me. I can see a blocky black device attached to the ceiling's corner, occasionally blinking a small red light. I don't know whether it's mostly magic or they've just created different technologies out of order, but I know it's a camera. They're watching. Just waiting for me to fall asleep and drop my guard. Or perhaps they're looking to see me try to escape and mete out punishment after. They--the mares running this place, that is--might even be waiting for Redheart to get far enough away before... ...I'm not making much sense, am I? I hope you'll forgive my paranoia--it's just that it has served me quite well in the past. The truth is, I'm really scared. This whole situation is starting to sink in and I'm not prepared to deal with it. Was my average, contented life truly so irksome as to warrant this? I know, I know. Complaining doesn't help anything. I should shut my mou--er, muzzle before I go on a pointless tirade. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...I'm glad you're here with me. You are...the only friend I have left, pathetic as it sounds. Sorry, it's just that someone told me a long time ago to focus on what I'm thankful for, that it makes hard times easier. I'm thankful for you. It's been some hours since I last thought to you. I had to give myself time to stew. I've managed to refrain from sleep for the most part--dozing a little here and there before catching myself. I think the sun is almost up. I'm watching the sky change color from the window right now. It...it's beautiful. Living in Manhattan, you just don't get to see things like this. I'd describe it to you if I had the words, but I think I'm too tired anyway. Gosh, it sure is breathtaking. Ponyville--that's the town we're in, as least as long as I overheard correctly--is such a quaint little place. It almost seems sheltered from the harshness of reality--a little hamlet of tranquility in an otherwise cruel and unforgiving world. I can see ponies waking up, just now exiting their doors and heading down the cobblestone streets. Along the way, they meet friends and strangers alike, but all are treated with gracious greetings and cheery attitudes. I'm grateful to see this from here. It's almost enough to take my mind off things. I just have to wonder, y'know? What it would be like to fit right in with those ponies. To live carefree like that, without dreading what is soon to come. Just...wiling the days away among friends and acquaintances, spending years with a family that isn't out to get me. One that cares. That loves me in a way that doesn't make me want to throw up or fight back or call the authorities. I'm finding my gaze drawn especially to the sky and the pegasi soaring through it. If I had the energy, my own wings might be buzzing in ecstasy and anticipation. They look so graceful up there. Untethered. Free. Through my blurry vision I can make out a pair of grounded ponies approaching the hospital. The one's white coat and pink mane catches my attention and I straighten, hurriedly wiping the moisture from my eyes. Despite my haste, I can catch only a few more glances of them before they round the bend and leave my window. That was definitely Doctor Redheart, though. It almost looked like a stallion with her, too. I found my spirits lifting with hope at that thought. ...sorry for the abrupt change in tense. I'm going to try using past from now on. It'll help me stay alert. You'll let me know if I start slipping, right? That will probably mean I'm starting to lose consciousness. If that happens, I'll need to get to a safe spot as soon as possible. Alright. Past tense. Here we go. I hopped down from the window in short order, trotting over to the middle of the room. I had the feeling that someone would be entering soon, so I decided to keep my eyes on the door. Any assailants would not get the drop on me, at very least, so preparation was key. I stayed there, sitting on my haunches before the entrance, for quite some time. Surprisingly, I found myself hoping a certain doctor would be the one to open it, though any explanation evaded me entirely. The anticipation was starting to get overwhelming. My vision tunneled towards that looming door and a pit of cold dread formed itself in my chest as time wore on. The approaching clack of hoofsteps only raised my anxiety. I was shaking, hyperventilating as they stopped just outside. When the handle turned and the door cracked open, I'd already stood and begun backing away. Imagine my relief, then, when the pony who stepped inside happened to be exactly who I wanted to see. "Redheart!" My child voice squeaked and I stumbled before I could gallop any closer. Really, this was fortunate; no matter how much I wanted to, there was no way I could trust the mare. Despite knowing this, I was somewhat surprised to find a large part of me yearning to throw myself into her arms--er, forelegs. It was looking like my new foal body had some impulses I'd need to restrain. I wasn't the only one shocked; Redheart paused and furrowed her brows at me while tilting her head. Apparently, she hadn't expected I'd be so happy to see her. I fumbled, standing with haste and splaying my legs against the tile floor. I needed to regain control of the situation before she got the idea that I liked her. Soon enough, she'd reveal her true intentions and that would hurt far worse if I ever got attached. "Don't come closer!" I commanded, wincing at the crack and waver in my voice. Thankfully, the doctor listened and promptly sat, just barely inside the room. Instinctively, my muscles loosened and I grimaced in displeasure, still fighting the urge to run to her. Redheart smiled gently and lowered herself until she was laying down, tucking her legs in much like a cat 'loafing'. "Don't worry, Heath. I'll stay right here. Nopony's going to approach you." Now, admittedly, the mare didn't exactly look threatening like this. As seconds wore on, I had no choice but to relax and settle down on the floor in like fashion. It wasn't like I had the energy to be tense for too long, anyway. When Redheart opened her muzzle again, I perked up and raised a brow at the words to follow: "I brought somepony I'd like you to meet." Into the room stepped another earth pony with a beige coat, dark brown mane, and blue eyes, wearing a freshly-pressed green bowtie. He was a stallion! "Greetings, good chap. My name is--!" The introduction was cut short when I cannoned straight into his legs. The stallion stumbled, barely catching me and rocking with the momentum. I gripped him tightly and stared up with intensity, waiting for him to return the look with a shocked expression before I spoke. "Will you help me?" My voice was small and hushed, as though on some level I didn't want Redheart to hear. He paused, blinking, but after many moments gave a firm nod. "That is my intention, Heath." I didn't question how he knew my name. I was too desperate for any measure of support. "Thunderlane left me..." I was going to say more, but sudden emotion closed my throat. I must have looked quite pathetic, sitting there with giant teary pony eyes and a sad little frown. The stallion wrapped me in a tight hug, leaning close to whisper in my twitching ears. "My name is Time Turner. I won't." It took longer than my pride liked at all to pull myself together. This colt body was putting me through all the emotion and, unlike before, I didn't have the maturity to suppress it. Rivulets of salty water spilled from my eyes and left wet splotches all over my face and his coat. He started gently rocking and humming some melody in a soft baritone voice, which did help to some degree. I was doing my best to not be present in those moments, but it was like his presence forced me back to reality whenever I tried to mentally leave. Eventually, it all just petered out and I slumped in Turner's grip, utterly spent. It was only then that I could escape, going momentarily to a brighter place. When I returned to awareness, we'd left the room and were walking down the hall, Redheart leading and me leaning into Turner's leg for support. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes I'd spent away, but I was grateful nonetheless for the break. Sorry for just summarizing things, by the way. I figure you know enough now to not be as interested in the finer details. Right! Past tense! We ended up in a lounge I recognized from yesterday, with the same unicorn mare holding a clipboard waiting inside. She had an unpleasant sort of look on her face and I hated the way her eyes tracked me across the room as we made our way in. I half-expected her to lick her lips or something, the predatory vibes were that strong. Probably the only reason I wasn't freaking out was because I had my good pal Time Turner right there. With me very much on edge, we made our way to the sofa and sat across from her. "The purpose of this meeting is to finalize foster proceedings and restate the situation plainly for transparency's sake," the violet mare said, her gaze lingering on my lethargic form. I returned the stare, making every effort to look defiant despite my lack of anything resembling energy. "Heath was found and brought here from Ponyville's border. There are no records of any colts matching his description in this or any surrounding town's databases. He has not told us much about where he is from or his herd and, colts being as they are, will not easily provide much more information." It was unsettling how accurate that statement was. I had no intention of sharing anything I hadn't already; the more they knew about me, the more they could use to inflict harm. This mare clearly understood much of my thought process, then. All the more evidence to show she was up to no good. Truthfully, I didn't know why I was going along with all this. Maybe because I was so discombobulated thanks to suddenly waking up in ponyland. Perhaps Time Turner and--to a smaller extent--Redheart were appealing enough that staying with them until I figured things out didn't seem like a bad thing. It could possibly have been that I had no better alternative anyway. What was I going to do, walk out? Try and dig my way back home? No, obviously not. A plan was beginning to form, though: I'd bunk with the ponies I was sitting between and together they'd be able to hold the rest of their herd off. I'd gain access to a library or archives and study dimensional travel to see how I ended up here. Once that was done, I'd contact the nearest wizard or whatever and say my goodbyes. Simple, right? And yet every step of that plan leaned on far too many unknowable factors. Would I really be safe with the rest of their herd? I knew magic existed here and was used quite casually, but that didn't guarantee any kind of multiversal study. And even if these ponies knew about other dimensions, that didn't mean I'd be able to access or find my home. Despite the flaws in my plan, I found my spirits lifting with hope. For the first time since waking up here, I actually had a plan of action. I wasn't pessimistic enough not to appreciate that much. "...you and your herd are to care for Heath as your own until then," Violet Mist addressed Redheart. I realized I hadn't been paying attention at all, which was bad seeing as current events were dictating my future. Luckily, it seemed nopony had directly tried to interact with me. "If new evidence reveals his actual herd aren't abusive, as is possible and perhaps likely, he will promptly be returned with all due apologies." I found myself bristling at that. Even though I hadn't gone into detail or communicated more than a look, the idea that they were already prepared to disbelieve me hurt. Moreover, being somehow returned to my family... I had to wonder what lengths they might go to. Suddenly, going back to earth didn't seem all too great anymore. "Try and get all the information you can. If holes in Heath's story appear," I was absolutely certain I didn't imagine the dangerous glint in Violet's eye, but just as sure that neither earth pony I was sandwiched between took notice, "I will ensure swift corrections are made." My glare was weak; I knew who held the authority here and I was well aware of how powerless that made me. There was no chance anypony could learn more about me. If any more information got out, Violet Mist would make my life here miserable. Redheart and Turner might even get caught in the crossfire. The meeting continued, but I was too enervated to care. A prickling anxiety was beginning to take hold. If I screwed up, let something--anything--loose, that would be it. Game over. Violet would ensure I never saw the light again. One more burden to carry, I suppose. Sorry for the fragmented thoughts. I'm not making much sense, am I? The truth is, that mare really intimidates me. The fact that she can so easily ruin everything, it... ...well, it reminds of home. She's got an amount of power over my life that I can only dream of having. Oh, the fond memories that brings. At this point, I'm kind of collapsed against Turner's side. I feel heavy bags under my eyes and the urge to close them is only intensifying. I blink slowly and slip deeper. Hey, sleep doesn't sound too bad, y'know? No, wait! I can't... there was something...! ...Oh no... ... ... I jolted awake atop an incredibly soft surface, the scent of strawberries invading my nostrils. Reaching my forelegs around revealed I was moving on something long before I could finally separate my crusty eyelids. When they did open, I saw I was draped along Redheart's white back as she walked through the streets of Ponyville. Time Turner's presence beside her helped me calm down, especially when he trotted closer to check on me. That all happened some few minutes ago. I've opted to stay where I am since then; Redheart's back is very comfortable and I don't trust myself not to collapse if left to my own devices. If anything awful were to happen, it'd be when I was unconscious anyway. If the view from the hospital was stunning, now, in the midst of the streets, I'm utterly breathless. Ponyville is practically drowning in small-town charm. Something that does catch my attention, though, is how many mares there are. They populate every corner and open space in sight--there's not an angle I can look where I don't see at least three of them. Worse, they're clearly interested in me. They don't even bother trying to hide their prolonged looks or hurried murmurs. Some even follow behind for a few steps, which is terrifying enough that I'm clinging to Redheart as tightly as I can. Sticking with direct sentences is really helping. My mind wants to wander right now and I need to keep focus. I don't think I can concentrate enough to revert back to past tense. I...really need more sleep. I only slept an hour or so, according to Time Turner. Being this tired really stinks. Can't rest. Mares everywhere. We make it to what is evidently Redheart's home. She takes a moment to explain the elaborate symbol on the door--a 'herd emblem,' as she calls it. I recognize the red cross and hourglass inside it from my new caretakers' flanks and I wonder if the other composite symbols come from others in the herd. I'm interested, but Turner opens the door and leads us in before I can ask any questions. Wow, this must be way less interesting for you. What kind of storyteller am I, stripping away all but the barest parts of my words? I'm sorry. You deserve better than that. Let me make it up to you by describing the house. I'll try to stay coherent. The inside of the house is, while not extravagant, certainly not lacking. Elegant paintings are well spaced along the walls, depicting a wide array of landscapes from snowy mountains to rolling hills and everything in between. The living room--or, at least, what I can see of it from the front hallway--is well-furnished with two sofas and a recliner, with a coffee table in between. The ceiling is quite high, but a set of stairs to my left reveals there's at least one floor above it. Once Redheart steps through the hallway, I'm able to take a look at the well-stocked kitchen adjacent to the living room, with many cabinets and a counter that are far beyond the reach of my stubby pony legs. I'm not sure how horse economy works, but my overall impression is that this herd is quite well-off. Aw, crap. That was a lot of 'wells,' wasn't it? That just goes to show how tired I am. I can't even think of any other adjectives to avoid repetition. Hurriedly, I hop down from Redheart's back and duck behind her. Two ponies--females both--are sat on one of the couches, staring me down with far too much interest. This isn't good. The other herdmares are already after me! I edge over to Turner--who's standing around quite easily, as though ignorant of the obvious danger--and frantically tap his fetlock before whispering my request. "Do I have a room?" The stallion opens his mouth to interject. It almost seems like he wants me to 'meet' the mares. All it takes to stop that, though, is one look at my terrified face and the way my eyes track their every move. I watch the words die in his throat as he heaves a heavy sigh. "Up the stairs, far end of the hall. Make yourself at home, Heath." That's all the invitation I need! I'm on the second story and zipping into the room before I can even think to check if anypony's following me. I manage to slam the door closed behind me, but I can't reach the lock on the handle so I lean my body against it as a barricade instead. I'm freaking out. I'm terrified. Please help me. ... ...at least you're here. ... ...okay. Okay. I think... I think they're going to leave me be for now. I can never tell for sure, you see; their changing moods make predicting their actions impossible. Something that incited punishment yesterday might be totally fine now. After all these minutes, though, I can be fairly certain that nothing's going to happen, at least yet. A relief, if small. Nonetheless appreciated. This gives me time to think. Maybe now I can make my escape. I've heard tell of a town not too far from here. If I hitchhike on a few trains, perhaps pausing for directions, I can get there no problem. Supposedly, it's quite friendly. It might even be far enough that they won't find me. Maybe then I can be free. Maybe then, I can live happily on my own, unbothered by anyone. Maybe then... Maybe then, you'll finally forgive what I did. And then maybe you'll actually-- Knock ... Don't worry, it's just Time Turner. He's asking if he can come in. ... I told him 'yes'. Now he wants me to get out of the door's way. I suppose that makes sense. ... It's hard. my limbs feel frozen stiff. I feel so disoriented, like I have no idea where I am. The walls I've been emptily staring at for what must've been an hour now are finally coming into focus. The room looks nice, like the rest of the house. I could see myself settling in here. It's a pretty generic guest room, but that just reminds me of my apartment back in Manhattan when I first moved in. The fun was in customizing it--making it my own. I can already imagine an oaken bookshelf here, a navy blue nightstand there. Some paint on the walls and ceiling. Maybe even glow-in-the-dark stars for cloudy nights when I can't see the real ones. These thoughts stabilize me. I remember where I am, now, and I'm able to step aside, letting Turner in. I feel... better. I'm even going to switch to past tense to prove it. Here we go. "I'm sorry, Heath. We shouldn't have tried to introduce you immediately like that. I thought..." Turner shook himself and settled down, but not before gently closing the door behind him. I sat in like fashion, blinking curiously up at his saddened expression. "...are you alright? I should hope you're not too terribly shaken." It took a moment of introspection for me to come up with a response, during which I scooted closer. Unlike Thunderlane, Time Turner took my need for comfort in stride and draped a foreleg around my small withers. "I'm okay. Just," I took a shaky breath, "don't expect me to be around them. I know they're out to get me." He sighed again and started rubbing my back, causing my shivers to decrease. I shut my eyes and focused on trying to calm down, feeling my heartrate slow. "I'm glad to hear that, Heath. I hate to say it, but..." It almost seemed like he was going to sigh again, but Turner pulled me close to his chest instead. "You will have to get used to relying on mares. My wives are wonderful ponies. They're not out to get you. I promise they just want to help." I didn't believe him, obviously. Maybe they treated him well, but I was a different story. I'd recognized that look on their faces. The light blue one had been all too interested in me and her gaze had wandered all over my body. The grey one had been so focused that her lazy eye snapped into place. I knew what that meant. "Can you please keep them away from me? At least until we work things out?" I wasn't sure he understood what I meant by that, but at the same time, I didn't really care. More pressing matters were at hoof, primarily the fact that I was trapped back in a house with females that wanted to use me. "What about Redheart?" Turner's question actually stopped me short. I blinked a few times and ultimately left my eyes open, staring out across the room. Moments passed with the stallion patiently waiting. Idly, I wondered how comfortable it could possibly be to sit propped on his haunches like this. Not very, I would think. His bowtie rustled as I leaned my head back. "I don't know. I want to like her. Just like I want to trust you." He wasn't surprised by my insinuation, I could tell. We kind of just sat in silence for a while, both processing things and each other. I liked Time Turner; he was the kind of person I could simply sit with. We didn't even need to talk or interact any more than being in each other's presence to come to understandings. I was adamant that his wives were after me--since, y'know, they were--while he wanted me to feel safe here. Slowly, it was like I could sense him making up his mind. Before Turner got the chance to speak, though, I finally processed something he said earlier and interrupted. "Wait, why would I have to rely on mares?" This derailed his train of thought entirely, but that was fine; I already knew he was going to agree to keep his wives off my tail. "Because that is how the world functions, Heath. We depend on them for many things. Why, I don't know where I'd be without..." I slipped out of the stallion's grip, standing and turning fully to face him. Turner saw the look on my face and paused, creasing his eyebrows. "You mean you don't know? How can you..." thankfully, he halted that line of questioning pretty fast. I didn't exactly know how to tell him I was from an alien planet with sapient monkey people and, with how tired I was still, my explanation would probably be even less coherent. Time Turner inhaled deeply and settled back on the floor, curling his brown tail around his side. With me standing and him laying down, we were about eye level. "I suppose I shall start at the beginning, then," he began. My ears swiveled to face him as I directed all of my attention. "Ponykind is a relatively odd race. While almost every other sapient species has an even gender ratio and magical power distribution between members, we... well, my theory is that we evolved quite strangely." Turner straightened and engaged what I decided to call 'lecture mode,' using his hooves to gesture and bring emphasis to things. "Early protoponies and equines were the first and only ones to develop mana pools, which led to increased intelligence and magic use. This gave them a sort of 'leg up' in the race of natural selection. When more members survived, the species thrived. Soon, there was no almost no competition whatsoever, and we were free to live as we wished, left alone by any predators since we were simply too powerful." I cocked my head and laid back down, highly interested in the information. I mean, who wouldn't be? Alien lifeform origin story? Hello? "Wait," said I, "so, ponies are the most powerful creatures and everyone else leaves us alone. Great, but none of that has anything to do with why I'd need to rely on mares!" With both of us 'loafing,' I came up to the base of his neck, but that only enhanced his sagely nod. "You are correct, but evolution didn't stop there. Eventually, everything else caught up to our head start and we needed to find a way to get back ahead. As things were, with power levels evenly spaced, we had a net neutral lead of sorts. But if we could specialize, condensing more magic into fewer individuals..." A lightbulb of sorts flicked on above me and I couldn't stop a smile of eureka. "--So, the more powerful members could fight the competition and survive much better than everypony collectively." Another nod and I realized my tail was wagging slightly from the excitement of discovery. The stallion noticed it too, but opted not to comment and continued instead. "There is much debate in the scientific community over how exactly it happened, but my personal theory," he gave a quick wink, "is that the stallions of old got together and collectively decided to give their power to the mares. I believe our current gender roles were once reversed like every other creature, and in one massive show of chivalry we gifted them the ability to better survive the harsh wilds. Over enough generations of performing the same rituals, nature followed suit and it simply became permanent." My tail stopped wagging. "So, mares are twice as powerful as stallions, and have a leg up on every other creature because of it?" To my horror, Time Turner nodded and cheerfully continued. "Evolution wasn't even done there, however. With mares now so strong that survival wasn't an issue again, continued existence was all but guaranteed. Well, except for the fact that," he blushed. The grown stallion, father of two, actually blushed. "Reproduction requires both genders of a species and now one was significantly weaker than the other. Stallions began to fall prey to just about everything and our numbers declined. It fell to mares to protect us from the world's dangers. As such, natural selection picked traits that best allowed them to do so, while birth ratios began to skew so there'd be fewer stallions to worry about." He nodded to himself, still not noticing my expression, and finished up: "Things have been that way ever since. The fact of the matter is, without as much magic to bolster our bodies, stallions are around four times more fragile than the average mare. And colts like yourself have it even worse, as with no magic whatsoever, you're around eight times more fragile. And that's only the start of how inferior males are!" It boggled me, how he could say that all so nonchalantly. My plans of freedom and self-sufficiency were dissipating before my eyes. Devastated by this information, knowing I'd need to rely on those who only wanted to use me for the rest of my stay here, I could only bow my head. That...this...it was beyond terrible. Mares could do whatever they wanted. In life, to me, whatever. In this world, I'd always be powerless to stop them. If what Turner was saying was true--and it did check out with other things I had heard in passing--then I would never be able to fight back successfully against even one of them. And the stallion wouldn't be able to protect me like I hoped. Not really. I needed some time to process this. Turner finally noticed my reaction and tried to backtrack, but understood what I wanted soon enough. He was sure to leave the door cracked open behind him, saying something about how dinner would be ready in a few hours. Kind of odd, really; it couldn't have been much later than noon. I supposed ponies had meals early. The fact that we'd be eating at all was a relief. I didn't feel hungry at the moment, but experience had taught me that that was soon to change. I knew I should rest until food was prepared, having a young body that needed sleep and all, but even looking at the four-poster bed all neatly made for me couldn't make me feel tired. It was actually kind of funny, in a dark sort of way. I'd stayed up all the night prior in hopes of warding off enterprising females waiting for me to go to sleep, but they could do what they wanted just as easily when I was awake. Looking back, there really wasn't much point to any of it. That did bring another question to mind, though: If they could do whatever they wanted at any time, what had stopped them? Why weren't they barging through the door at this very moment to have their way with me? Too many witnesses? Societal expectation? Some base level of decency? Pacing circles through the guest bedroom, I found my nervous energy required an outlet. After rifling through the closet and some greyish cabinets, I came across an empty notebook and some pencils. What purpose they served I didn't bother questioning at that moment--I was too busy with cracking it open and beginning to sketch. Now, I wasn't an artist or a man of much talent in general--perfectly average, remember--but I knew the basics and desperation was a pretty good motivator for new hobbies. I could just as easily have started writing a poem or folding the paper like origami, but both of those required more concentration than mindlessly scribbling. Drawing proved to be the exact thing I needed at that moment. Primitive stick figures evolved into clothed people with umbrellas waking down a busy street. I added angular buildings, some light rainfall, and several cars. Lastly, I capped the top with the underside of an umbrella, showing it was from the perspective of another person. All told, it probably looked really bad, but creating the piece was a welcome distraction from the information I had received. I'd show it to you if I could. I know I'd only get your honest opinion. It's a shame I can only describe things. While appraising my work and picking out imperfections, I happened to glance up at the door and promptly recoiled in shock. Blinking and looking again revealed nothing, but that didn't change what I'd seen. Somepony had been watching me! "Hello?" I called out. Seconds passed, but finally a sheepish face showed itself, nudging the door open. An orchid-colored face, to be exact, with a rounded muzzle to boot. Instantly, my eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Er, hi. Heath, right?" My nod was terse and it almost looked like she flinched, but the unicorn still stepped into the room. "My name is Amy." I blinked at the human-sounding name and, perhaps noticing my surprise, she quickly finished. "Short for Amethyst. Amethyst Star." Yeah, that made more sense, though it did conflict with what was clearly a trio of diamonds on her flank. I had noticed that names tended to reflect those markings. And her mane was too dark a purple for it to be that. Actually, wait, it might've been the lighter streak in her hair. "...you're not what I expected," she said quite awkwardly. I raised a brow, bemused, while Amy continued to approach. "I... heard my parents talking about you last night. They said you--" she cut herself off with a gasp, staring at my hindquarters. I discovered a smile forming on my face. A sickly smile. The kind of smile a disillusioned soldier heading on a suicide mission would make. The kind of smile a victim of torture has after keeping tight hold of the information the warden wants so badly. I found a calm of sorts descending on me. I couldn't explain it, but the feeling was a nice change of pace. There was no rage, no fear, no sensation of betrayal. I only felt... something I couldn't really describe. It felt a lot like vindication. "So. This is it, then." I stated with words far below freezing. Amy looked confused, especially at my grim grin. She'd stopped mere inches in front of me. I knew what happened now. "Going to take what you want before the others have a chance? Suppose there's a certain feeling of victory, eh? Conquest?" She blinked her purple eyes, uncomprehending. "...what?" Amy asked intelligently. "How old are you, Amy?" I was almost conversational with this question, even as I laid myself on the floor and pushed my notebook away. "I'm sixteen," she responded, still obviously bamboozled. That was interesting--I would have guessed quite a bit older. She was so tall, I might have even mistaken her for an adult. There was a sort of humor to that. To this whole situation, in fact. A grand kind of humor that'd be sure to get an audience roaring. That, or make them recoil in horror. "Plenty old, then, huh? I wonder where you'll start." I was so bold as to reach out, tapping away at her cannon bone. There was no point in resisting, after all. "The type to mosey on and take your time? Or will you get impatient and head straight for the prize?" I had no idea where these words were coming from. I hardly even felt like myself at that moment. It was like the world had faded to a blur and my emotions followed suit. Something about knowing I was completely helpless, it was like nothing even mattered anymore. This was life. I could already feel myself preparing to phase out. "Oh. OH! No, nonono!" Amethyst Star exploded backwards and shook her head with more rapidity than a fly's buzzing wings. Her mane was sent flying to either side while her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. She panted, suddenly short of breath, and it was several moments before she could speak again. "No, I-I'm not going to..." Amy's face took on a greenish tinge and it looked like she might vomit. "I-I was j-just... I..." She sat, heavily and halfway across the room, taking a deep, calming breath. My brow found itself back against my cherry red hairline, where I was slightly concerned it would take permanent residence at this point. Amy fixed a steady gaze on me, but still looked shaken. "I was sent to tell you that dinner's ready. Lasagna and potato casserole, Dad's special. I'm to escort you downstairs." She stood, then, and cantered through the door before turning to look back at my prone form. "If you'll follow me...?" I didn't move a muscle. I might've laughed if I wasn't dreading the meal to come. "You really think I'll follow you?" I asked with no small amount of disdain. Amy flinched, shooting me a pleading look. When I failed to react, she sighed in defeat. "I can get Redheart. Would... would that be better?" At my nod, she sighed again and left without another word. The named mare arrived soon after. I still hadn't moved, more rattled than I cared to admit. I had... absolutely no idea what just happened. I'd never reacted like that before. If I'd done what I did with Amy in front of my family, only horrors would follow. Stranger yet was the teen's reaction, as though she somehow found such an act to be exactly as reprehensible as it was, despite-- "--Heath?" Redheart interrupted. She was crouched down with her eyebrows creased in worry, some feet away from me. I finally snapped out of my thoughts and rose from the floor, striding over to her. My face found itself planted in her fluffy, white chest and the pleasant smell of strawberries overwhelmed my senses. This didn't last long--I realized how dangerous such an action was. It felt nice to let myself believe I was safe, though, if only for a moment. "Let's go." I was drained and more or less resigned to my fate. Fatigue found me again and held tight. We took off down the stairs without much ceremony. I stumbled occasionally, but Redheart was there to stabilize my lethargic form. It was only then that I really registered how strong she was. Carrying me must have been absolutely effortless. The dining area was past the kitchen, opposite the living room. It, like the rest of the house, was well-furnished. A large, round table took up much of the space, around which seven cushions were arrayed. Amy's description of dinner rang true, as the same food she'd named sat waiting atop it. Time Turner was waiting for me just inside the doorway and he fell into step on my left, mirroring Redheart on my right. The food was delectable. It didn't have quite the same sheer quality of Thunderlane's stew, but that just meant I wasn't sent into a rabid fit. I couldn't focus too much on it anyway, because I was far too busy tracking the mares opposite. My head was drooping. The bags on my eyes were getting heavier. I... I'm... They're sat on the other end of the table and seem to be making every effort not to look at me. They're still interested. They're plotting, I can tell. I'm so tired. I'm slipping. I'm falling. It's so hard to stay. . . Up. I think... ...I think I'll just... ... please make it stopi don't want to be here. i don't want to be here. i don't want to be here. oh gosh. she's here. i need to run now stay back stay away stay there. please. don't move. don't... ...move. ... ... Okay. Okay, I'm... disoriented. I just woke up and, well... You know how I said I didn't have nightmares anymore? Yeah, uh... that changed. Real fast. Someone must've put me back in bed. The four-poster one in my room. It does feel pretty nice, despite the torn blankets and deformed pillows. Actually, those are probably from me thrashing around just now. Redheart's here. Gosh. I'm glad she isn't moving. She was looking at my drawing when I woke up. I think she was the one that brought me here. How long has she been...? How long have I been asleep? ... A few hours, huh? And she hasn't left my side. I... ... Heh. I guess this is it, then. No. NO! You'll have to try harder than-- --the-- ... The door is closed. This... I'm... Too tiny to reach the handle. Too helpless. A sitting duck. Redheart's coming. "Please, don't..." I'm so weak. ... She says 'it'll be okay'. What a joke. I can't even muster up a reply. What's the point? What's the point of anything? She's got me in a hold. So strong I'll never escape. Her arms around me, pulling constricting asphyxiating It'll happen soon. She'll get tired of all the foreplay. Please help. I'm scared. ... squeezing beating breathing ...gross. So yucky. I don't want it. You! You need to help me! I'm so, so scattered I need you to talk to me. I want--need--to hear your voice. Please, please, just one word. One little word and this will be so much easier. I know you've been silent throughout this whole thing, but please. I really need this. You can't just sit there looking at me. You can't. You're better than that. I know you are. I know because... ...please. please please... her scent invades my nostrils. It's harsh, cloying, repulsive. It's everywhere. And still the pulling, yanking, pounding... PLEASE! TALK TO ME! ... ... ... ... ... ...please ... .. . You used to talk to me. That's how I know. We had the grandest times together, you and me. We'd travel to the park together and play games there. You always loved 'tag', even though it was only the two of us. We ran races, too, and you always won those. I remember... your voice. Your laugh. Oh, how I loved your laugh. I'd tell the stupidest jokes and you just couldn't control yourself. You told the coolest stories, too. I recall being captivated while you spun a tale of one-eyed alien space pirates. You're so much more creative than me. Back then, you never let me forget it, either! I looked up to you, y'know. Such great times we had together. Don't you remember? ... Of course. How could you forget? But it changed when I... ... I... I screwed up. Really bad. I hurt you. Really bad. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. For everything I did. For the things I said. Listen, I'm just an average guy now, see? Nothing interesting whatsoever about me. It's pathetic, really. I'm determined to fix it. To make up for what I did. I'm trying so hard. And I'm still scared. I need you to speak. So please, in the name of all the years we spent together, forgive me. ... Please forgive me. ... Please forgive me. ... ... You don't need to forgive me ... You can be as angry as you want! At this point, I'll take anything. ... They don't have to be words. ... ... ... Yell at me. Do it. Express your hatred. ... ... ... WHY! WHY WON'T YOU DO ANYTHING?! ... . . . ............... please............................ ... Fine. After long enough, my screaming dies down and I feel a warm blanket settle over my body. It's nice. It's heavy, but just the right amount to feel snug without being oppressive. It's the kind of blanket that's fuzzy, so I rub my face into it, drying my tears. It's the kind of blanket that smells good, like freshly-picked strawberries. It's the kind of blanket that doesn't judge me for outbursts. The kind that's there to pick up my pieces. The kind that's been around me the whole time since I woke up here and still hasn't made any advances. ... It's the kind of blanket that deserves an apology. "I'm sorry, Redheart." ... Heh. She asked 'what for'. "For being so uncooperative. For being ungrateful for all you've done for me. For..." ... ... "...for thinking you wanted to use me. You're not that kind of pony. I'm sorry for thinking you were." ... I like Redheart. I Trust her. This feels... right. ... She forgave me. Told me to call her 'Reddie,' or 'Mom,' whichever felt better. I think I will. ... ... I think I'm going to stop bothering with you. Clearly, There's no repairing the damage. I don't know why I bothered trying. You probably listen solely because you have to, huh? Fine. I'll shut up. You won't even have to hear from me again. How does that sound? Goodbye. ...... ...... ..... ... ... .. . . . Chapter Seven - Curiosity Killed The Filly"Dinky, no!" Hissed Amethyst Star as she tailed her sister, stepping quietly in a vain attempt to dampen all the sound. "Dinky, yes!" Cheered the little filly as she all but bounced up the stairs, giggling on her way with the innocence and exuberance of youth. Amy groaned and continued to chase her, but the late hour meant she dared not catch up for fear of making a ruckus. The youth winced with every creaking step as they ascended, with Dinky zooming ahead before pausing in the middle of the hallway. The grey filly had a leg raised, peeking back at her sister's exasperated expression with a playful smile. "You coming, Amy?" The unicorn in question let out a breath of disbelief. "No, I'm not, because we're not supposed to be dis--" was as far as she got before the rebellious little brat scampered on ahead. "Dinky--!" Was that a raspberry? Oh, that runt was so in for it. Amethyst caught up to her little sister easily enough. Dinky had reached the door to their guest's room, only to find it locked tight. Her fruitless scabbling and disappointed pout had no effect, either, and she couldn't do much more before Amy's magical aura yanked her away. Sprawled over and pinned to the carpet floor, the filly looked up at her sister's displeased frown with a smile so innocent it belonged on a newborn colt. "C'mon, Amy! Don't you wanna see him, too?" A snort was Amethyst's reaction while she tossed her head. "After all that screaming a few minutes ago? Absolutely not. We can't just waltz into Heath's room." The very idea appalled her, especially considering what happened last time she tried that. Unfortunately, Dinky didn't seem to agree. "Why?" Amy blinked in shock, but the filly's question seemed genuine. Impossibly so, the more she thought about it. Didn't Dinky know how improper it was to barge into a colt's room? Didn't she know how somepony as mistreated as Heath was would react to such an intrusion? Was she aware of how trauma worked at all? Actually, the answer to those questions was probably 'no'. Dinky was pretty sheltered. Amy stopped short when she realized this and her pause grew lengthier when she couldn't come up with a good way to explain. Really, she didn't know too much about these things either and her ears began drooping at the sobering thought. "I..." Dinky continued to stare with an expectant expression while she fumbled for words. "Well, Heath is..." wracking her brain, Amy finally came up with the not-inaccurate-but-still-uninformative: "...special." The filly blinked, growing incredulous, while her sister cringed slightly. "Well, duh!" Exclaimed Dinky, "all colts are special! That's how come we gotta be careful and not roughhouse when they're around!" She stood as Amy's magic faded away, brushing herself off but still holding a chipper smile. "And they can't play any fun games with us at recess, or else Cheerilee says they'll get hurt 'n stuff!" Dinky looked proud of herself, while her sister shook her head with a confused frown. "If you knew all that, then why barge in on Heath in the middle of the night?" The filly rolled her eyes, waving a hoof at the disapproving glare aimed her way. If Amy frowned any harder, her muzzle could very well gain an unnatural curve forever. "I wasn't gonna touch him, silly! I just wanted a look at my new brother! He barely spent any time with us at dinner." Dinky was so oblivious sometimes, Amy had the sudden urge to laugh. She quelled it, of course, even though they'd definitely made way too much noise by now. She could only hope they hadn't woken Dad. "That's because Heath..." but the words died in the unicorn's throat again. Dinky looked so curious, so innocent, so pure. How could Amethyst ruin that? How could she break the news without also betraying the colt in a way, either? Was it really her business to share what he'd been through? A sudden voice that both youngsters recognized made them freeze in place. "I can hear you two just fine out there." Amy's mouth flopped open and closed, her spiraling mind scrambling for something to say as Redheart's voice resonated from behind Heath's door. "You fillies can go ahead and come in. The door's unlocked, now. Don't wake your father." This was all the invitation Dinky needed. A blink, and suddenly she was leaning against the door on her hind hooves, nuzzling the handle open. Amy followed at a much more sedate pace, feeling her ears pin themselves against her head as she pictured what might be within. The youth was somewhat disappointed in that respect. Once Dinky all but hopped inside with a swishing tail, Amy's gaze was drawn to her Alpha Mare, laying on the rug mere feet within. Or, more specifically, her eyes landed on the small green-and-red form nestled up against Redheart's side. Heath looked so frail, tiny, and--dare she think it--cute that even Dinky let out a squeaky 'awwww' as she approached. The filly came to a halt mere inches from where Redheart's tail was curled around the sleeping colt. After several seconds seeing him snooze away, though, her endeared smile became a disappointed pout. "Why's he still sleeping? He's done nothing but sleep the whole time!" Dinky at least had the decency to speak in a hushed tone, but that hardly made her words any less inconsiderate, at least in Amy's opinion. Her Alpha donned a patient smile, but there was a noticeable firmness in her voice when she responded. "Colts need their sleep, Dinky. Without magic to energize them, they can't stay up for as long as you can." Something occurred to Redheart then and she tilted her head, gazing between the two. "Speaking of, where are the others? I haven't seen them since dinner." Amethyst stepped into the room proper, circling around her while leaving a wide berth--Heath was sleeping soundly, but one couldn't be too careful. "Derpy's in the nest with Dad. Minuette's in the basement, working on the new design. We were going to go help her like Mom said, but somepony wanted to terrorize our 'new brother.'" Those last two words came out with much heavier air quotes than Amy had intended and she cringed under Redheart's questioning look. Luckily, Dinky proved too great a distraction, bouncing yet closer and reaching towards Heath's face. "I wanted to say hi! Can't we wake him up for ju--" Redheart made no physical movements. As an Alpha Mare, she didn't need to. All she had to do was clear her throat and utter a soft: "Back." For the filly to freeze and take several steps away. Amethyst froze too, feeling shivers down her spine at the commanding, powerful tone in the voice. Neither youngster dared think of disobeying her leader. They both stood stock still, staring at her with rapt attention. Redheart gave a gentle smile, which eased much of the tension, but they remained in place until she nodded a release. "It's best not to disturb him, okay, Dinky?" The filly in question edged closer with great trepidation before the mare held out a foreleg in an inviting gesture. "Okay," agreed Dinky as she curled up against the front of her Alpha's barrel like an obedient puppy. It was some seconds until she found her voice again, spent being comforted by a reassuring nuzzle. In that time, Amy had unlocked her legs and sat on the carpet floor, squinting in the dim light. "Why, though? We get to wake Daddy up all the time!" Redheart let out a low hum, flicking her tail so it landed covering more of Heath's prone form. "Like Amy said, Heath is special. I know you're excited to make a new friend, but you have to be even more careful with him." The earth pony gazed down, faintly apologetic, at the pouting unicorn all but buried in her chest fluff. "It's best if you stay away, at least for now. Let Heath come to you when he's ready, okay?" Dinky didn't respond this time. For as rebellious as she could be, she knew when to listen to authority. Amy only wished she counted in that respect, but one couldn't have everything. Seated on her haunches, the young mare found herself glancing about the darkened guest room. The four-poster bed occupying one corner looked so messy that it seemed a rabid bear had torn out of its confines. A connecting curtain rod had snapped, leaving the canopy in a heap on the ground. Amy's perceptive eyes noticed disturbed patches of carpet, like scuffed hoofprints leading from the bed to the door. Speaking of which, being on this side of it, she saw marks of torn paint two feet or so up from the ground, like something small had desperately--yet fruitlessly--been scrabbling away at it. And not in a playful, silly way like her sister had minutes prior. This was a failed escape from what likely had been read as a life-threatening situation. Connecting dots formed an unpleasant picture in her head as Amy's gaze slowly dropped to the resting colt almost entirely hidden by pink hairs. Amy's mouth opened, then closed. With a jolt, she tore her stare away, having realized Redheart was looking at her. With cheeks aflame, her attention was drawn to an open notebook lying some feet away. Curious, she approached with a cocked head. The book was vaguely familiar--maybe she'd seen it earlier that day, when she'd come to get Heath for dinner? Amy hadn't gotten a good look at the picture he'd drawn, though. She'd been too distracted by him talking about... Amy beat those thoughts back with a shake of her head, igniting her horn with a pale blue glow. The notebook was levitated closer to her squinting purple eyes, which roved across the image in what dim light existed. Those eyes soon widened and she channeled more magic in efforts to make her horn brighter, all while furiously scanning the paper for every minute detail--of which there were surprisingly many. "... wow..." she breathed, almost without realizing. Amy jolted, though, when Redheart's voice tore through her trance and reminded her where she was. "What is it?" The unicorn turned to face her Alpha, but couldn't make herself look away from the art she had become so invested in. Depicted on the page of one of her spare notebooks was clearly a city street, framed by skyscrapers like the ones she'd seen in Manehattan when she'd tagged along on one of Minuette's business trips. The art was greyscale, shaded with pencil markings, which fit the dreary atmosphere of a rained-upon city sidewalk perfectly. Figures traveled across the pavement, holding umbrellas above their tall, lanky forms as shields from the heavens. The image seemed to come alive the longer Amy studied it. Blinking rapidly, she realized it'd been over a minute and she still had not answered. "It's a drawing. Heath was drawing when I came to get him yesterday. This..." she trailed off, once more enraptured by all the details. Almost as curious as the tall figures were the strange machines occupying the street. They resembled carriages like the ones popular in Manehattan, but without anything to pull them along. Amy's eyes wandered upwards as she pondered the art, but were then drawn to the very top of the page, where the underside of an umbrella was clearly depicted. That explains the perspective... "...How old did you estimate him to be, again?" Redheart hummed, shifting her penetrating stare to the colt in question, who mumbled something and inched closer in his sleep. Dinky had made herself comfortable at that point, leaning up against her front and shutting her eyes in like fashion. It wouldn't be long before the filly slipped into Princess Luna's realm of dreams, if only from boredom and there being nothing better to do. Also more than a little because Redheart's chest fluff was just that comfy. "Judging from his teeth and general size, the consensus was eight years. Is the drawing really that good?" The mare was skeptical, if her raised brow and slight frown were any indication. Amy nodded in response, every bit as surprised as her Alpha. "There's shading, perspective, a fully-developed background," she began, levitating the notebook over to be inspected by a pair of icy blue eyes. "The machines don't look like anything I've ever seen, so they must have been imagined. Same with the umbrella creatures. These things take a lot of skill--I'd never expect anything like this from anypony under twelve." The picture wasn't perfect, of course, but its blemishes and mistakes were overshadowed by everything positive and Redheart definitely seemed impressed. "It looks so..." the mare started, wrinkling her forehead as she studied the art in turn, "...dreary. Like there's no joy left. I'd hate to be there." Amy nodded along, but gazed vacantly at the wall with absent thoughts. This situation was quite curious. If Heath really was skilled enough to draw something like that, how could he be so young? She'd needed years of practice to reach that level and, though the unicorn had surpassed it now, she hadn't at his age to be sure. How could a little colt do something so advanced? Was he really as young as they thought? Amy found herself thinking back to her encounter with him, despite her own wishes. The look in his eyes, it still brought chills down her spine. The almost-victorious gleam as he sized her up. The casual frankness with which he addressed her, as if he was so used to that happening. The utter revulsion she'd felt when the dots connected. She couldn't even picture doing anything of the sort and yet he'd been so certain that-- "--Amy." The youth jolted again, spun to face her Alpha, and formed a shaky smile. Redheart's raised brow stayed northward for several seconds before her expression softened and she patted the carpet in front of her with her free leg. "Come sit. Let's talk." Those were the last words any teenager wanted to hear from a parental figure, but Amy obeyed all the same. Steadfast, she avoided glancing down at the troublesome lump as she crept by him, though she did spare a look at her slumbering sister. Dinky wasn't sleeping quite so heavily by the looks of it, but she wasn't one to snoop in business not concerning her. Tonight notwithstanding, that was. Amy settled herself down with the grace of a drunken seal, breathing shallowly as her eyes refused to focus. Across from her, Redheart ran a hoof through Dinky's yellow mane, brows creased. "You're still shaken. Did something happen before you went to get me?" The unicorn let out an airy chuckle, shaking her head in the negative. "Nothing more than you'd expect," Amy dismissed, waving a foreleg. "I'm sure you've been through the same thing with him. Probably worse." Redheart didn't seem convinced. Or, perhaps it was just that she knew Amy better than that. "It's affected you all the same. I'm sorry for what he must have said. It's partially my fault you went through that, after all." The mare waited expectantly for the youth to respond, but Amy dipped her head instead, unable to find the words. Even if she did figure out what to say, how to describe what he'd assumed she would do, no sound would make it past the lump in her throat. After a long pause, Redheart sighed. "Why don't you tell me how life is going? How's the internship with Rarity?" This was something Amy could discuss much more easily. It still took effort to speak, but keeping her thoughts on her employer helped a lot. "It's good. She's very talented at what she does and I learn more every day." With a deep breath as the knots in her barrel eased up, the youth managed a genuine smile. "I can see why she was chosen to be in charge of decorations for the celebration. I envy her artistic mind, sometimes." Redheart smiled back, her teeth glinting in the scant light from the window to the side. "Well, you're every bit as talented, too. You'll be helping her set everything up today, then?" A nod, then Amy reached back to grab her well-brushed tail, fiddling with its tip in her front hooves. A habit she'd had since she was little, it helped occupy her mind and focus her thoughts. Redheart noticed, if her deepening smile was any indication, but she knew better than to comment on it. "Yes. It's going to be a busy day, but Rarity said she had a lesson prepared to teach while we're working, so I'm looking forward to it." Indeed, Amy was already imagining just what they'd go over while hanging ribbons and the like all across town. Any number of things, really; her teacher could get quite creative with relating one thing to another. Redheart cocked her head to the side with a thoughtful expression. "Do you think--" she started, but cut herself off immediately when Heath stirred again at her side. This time, it was more than just readjusting himself in his sleep. The colt let out a soft whine and his brows creased, wrinkling his forehead. Redheart shifted, angling herself around him, and briefly looked back at Amy with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, but I have to take care of this. Can you..." Heath whimpered and started to shake. Redheart's attention was redirected in an instant as she gently lifted his body in her hooves. Amethyst Star stood, nodding, while the sleeping colt grew yet more agitated as time went on. "I'll take Dinky to bed," the filly lit up in a pale blue glow at the same time as the unicorn's horn and she swiftly opened the door. "I'll help Minuette downstairs, too. I'm sure she could use a hoof." Redheart nodded her thanks, now turned away completely as she focused on her charge. Amy left--almost eagerly--without further prompting, softly closing the door behind as she levitated Dinky ahead. Amy sighed in relief, knowing her Alpha had things under control. Few in Ponyville were as skilled as she in comforting males. Dropping Dinky off in her bedroom was easy, then the unicorn headed to the basement lab as promised. Stoically, she refrained from thinking about her new 'brother' in the slightest. Amy wanted no part in the trouble he was sure to bring, that was for sure. And she was sure that he was going to bring a lot of trouble. Chapter Eight - Forging IronIron. A light blue mare stood by a table, poring over various papers. She squinted, shuffling them with her yellow-tinted magic. Designs, diagrams, and various mathematical equations fluttered every which way in her search. Everything froze seconds later, allowing a single envelope to slip out from the sheaths of paper. It fell to the table's bare wooden surface with a small 'tink' and the unicorn's eyes locked on its location. Smelting, hammering, forging. A breath, once held, released as she took the letter in her hooves and methodically opened the flap. She didn't notice it--had no reason to, in the first place. Her attention was on the paper, not the workings of her heaving lungs. Not on the creeping thoughts that lurked in the back of her mind. Not on the muffled voices from above or the creaking hoofsteps that accompanied them. Shaping iron. Unpleasant, but needed. Useful. Pure. Minuette pored over the letter. She made every effort to commit its words to memory. Once finished, she paid no mind to her sigh, too focused on sliding the paper back into its envelope. The flap folded back over, no creases appeared--no irregularities at all, save the slight bulge in the envelope--then it was shuffled back into the other papers. Minuette's aura died. She turned away from the table and trotted across the floor, towards a contraption set up in the middle of the basement. Necessary. Good, in a sense. Worthwhile? Minuette paused. The background thoughts intensified. She hesitated. She pondered. Then she shook her head. Remains to be seen. A shallow imitation of life when it came to machinery, but this experimental prototype got the idea across. Also half the size of the final product, at least according to the diagrams. Minuette couldn't even fit inside it, and she liked to think she was fairly slim. Instead, she stuck her foreleg inside its main body--a hollow, metallic cylinder that rattled a bit when she brushed it--and once more lit her horn. Iron. Quaint. The interface was simplistic, but in this case that stood as a good thing. These were the kind of controls anypony could use. Restricting it to professionals would be counterintuitive. Of course, a horn was still necessary at this point, but fixing that would be trivial. A few buttons, most likely, along with a readout. The data wouldn't be visible to non-unicorns otherwise. Such things were already in the plans. Minuette simply liked to ensure everything was thought of. She didn't need reassurance often. She was a fairly confident mare, all things considered. Today was an exception. There had been many mistakes made today. Iron. With a slight whirring sound, the contraption flared to life. There existed few other signs of this occurring. The main body shifted, the electric lights dimmed, and the mare's ear flicked. These were the only ways an outsider could tell anything had changed. Minuette's horn remained lit as the slightest crease appeared on her brow. The machine rumbled on. It took exactly eleven minutes and twelve seconds. Minuette stood perfectly still. Her foreleg tingled, but there were no other odd sensations. The lights brightened, the rumbling stopped, the mare's ear flicked again, and her machine was finished. She extracted her foreleg. Blue eyes roved emptily back and forth as she assessed the magical picture forming in her mind. Then, Minuette grinned. In a rapid explosion of motion, she all but leapt back to the table. Papers were rifled through with much more ferocity, now. When her spiral-bound notebook flopped out, she pounced on it with eagerness. Three different pencils, shrouded in bright yellow, flew to the page and began scribbling away at once. She might've even let out a squeak of excitement. Minutes after, the energy died back down. Unwanted thoughts once more plagued her mind. Minuette slumped. Her gaze latched back onto her prototype. It stayed there for some time. Then, the door to her basement laboratory creaked open. Another unicorn stepped through. Almost a carbon-copy of herself, the same manestyle and everything. They might've been twins save for the color and slight height difference. Amy's eyes swept the sizable laboratory. They grazed by the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and the tiled floor. They ignored the shelves of mechanical parts and the scrawling-covered whiteboard. They settled on a seated Minuette's slumped form. The door swung shut behind her as she trotted inside. The mare didn't move or shift her gaze. The youth approached, quite unfazed. "So, is this just one of those times, or is it being sad about what happened today?" Minuette almost smiled. Amy took notice all the same, grabbing and throwing a foreleg over her withers. With a heave, the mare was back to standing. Scant inches separated the two horns. Minuette didn't have long before she'd have a challenger in stature. She couldn't be prouder. She stood for a moment, contemplating. Then she turned back to the table. "Iron." Amy raised a brow, following. "Uh, element number... twenty-six, right? 'Fe'?" This time, Minuette couldn't stop a smile from creeping up her muzzle. A similar one appeared on the teenager's. After rummaging through the scattered papers again, the envelope was located. This time, the mare didn't open it. She just held it in her hooves and nodded. "Smelted iron. Strengthened iron. Solid, true." Amy eyed the envelope, then the mare. A crease formed on her brow. Her hoof tapped her chin as she thought. Minuette waited patiently. "So, like an alloy? Is this your way of answering 'both' to my question?" A pause, then a soft grunt. Minuette raised, then tilted her hoof in a 'sort of, not really' gesture. It was the same hoof that held the envelope. It fluttered and waved with the motion. Amy's ears did similarly, falling back against her skull. She joined her in sitting on the floor. "Herdmother, you're really smart. I know there's some deep analogy going on here. Could you maybe give me a better hint?" The request was reasonable. She nodded in answer. The letter was placed back on the table. "When a blacksmith forges something, she sets her crucible hot. The iron melts under such heat. It's broken down and unrecognizable." The words took effort. Minuette strained under the force of every vocalization. "The iron's pain isn't over. It has to be hammered. Molded." She intended--wanted--to say more, but fell silent. Amy gave an understanding nod. She appeared thoughtful. Minuette found herself glancing back at her prototype as she waited. "The iron has to endure harsh punishment," said Amy. "And it has no idea why. But in the end, it gets made into something much more valuable than what it was." The youth's gaze locked onto her herdmother. She'd noticed the prototype and decided not to pay it much mind. Not yet, at least. "This is interesting so far," she expressed, "but who does the iron represent?" Minuette paused only for a beat. "Heath," Amy recoiled. Minuette glanced at her, not finished. "And you," the teenager became even more confused. "And me. And..." She ran out of words. She could only gesture meaningfully. Amy's eyes slowly lit up. She understood. "Everypony. You're saying the mistakes we make, the challenges we face... make us better?" A nod. Smiles, then a wry grin. "You know, this allegory of yours implies the existence of a higher power, orchestrating everything." Minuette waved her hoof with dismissive vigor. "Faust, Destiny, Cutie Marks." Amy nodded, pondering. "Well, it certainly is optimistic. I do feel like it's a bit of a stretch to say hardship is a good thing." Amy switched her attention to the prototype before the mare could respond. The purple unicorn stood, making her way over to the machine, while the blue remained seated. "What's this, again? I remember you talking about a new design this morning." Minuette grunted. She looked back at the envelope on the table. "M.R.I." Was her answer. Amy prodded the thing with her hoof. She tilted her head, both at the contraption and her herdmother. "Standing for?" Another grunt. "Magical Resonance Imaging." Amy blinked. "...care to explain what that means?" An idea popped into Minuette's head. She raised it and stood. She turned and joined her daughter. Then she gestured to the machine and tapped her horn. Amy sighed good-naturedly, giving her a knowing look. "I should find out for myself, then?" A nod, then her horn lit up. Minuette once more stuck her foreleg in the main body. This time, she was much more excited. Amy's face scrunched. "This enchantment looks way more... simple than usual." A stolen peek revealed Minuette nodding in confirmation. The youth shrugged and closed her eyes to better focus. The M.R.I. prototype became wreathed in pale blue as Amy's magic suffused it. "Let's see... uh, that looks like an 'on' switch." Every tell from earlier returned as the machine powered on. Amy's ear even made a delayed little flick. Minuette grew giddier by the minute. Her foreleg began to tingle as Amy's facial scrunch intensified. "Well, it's definitely doing something. I--whoa!" The teenager cut herself off. The mare fought to keep still. Her hopes were aloft. Time crawled slowly until... "Is that... your leg?" Minuette nodded furiously, but went unseen. Amy waited a few more moments to analyze the mental picture. Then the machine powered down. Minuette removed her foreleg from the main body and sat eagerly before her daughter. She had to fight to keep her tail from wagging. Said daughter blinked her eyes open and regarded her with an eyebrow raised. "So, this 'M.R.I.' takes a... not a picture, really, but a scan? Of whatever you put inside? And that helps you find problems, I'm guessing?" Hummingbirds had evolved to hover, rather than fly. Their wings could reach speeds of seventy beats per second. The rapidity of Minuette's nodding didn't quite match that, but it came close. The beaming grin on her face could feasibly replace a lighthouse beacon, should the need arise. Amy didn't share her enthusiasm. It was because she didn't understand fully why this was needed. Still, the youth grew a smile just in watching her herdmother's glee. "Well, what else do you need help with?" At this, Minuette stood, gesturing over to the table. There was much more work to be done. With a helper around, her mood had taken a sizable upswing. The background thoughts had almost faded away. Whenever they spiked, she quelled them with one simple thought. Iron. A sudden noise jolted Minuette awake. She raised her head and glanced around, bleary-eyed. She was sitting atop a cushion next to her main worktable. She had been slumped down on various papers and a half-written response letter. It took several seconds for the mare to realize the sound had been a snort. A few after that, the realization came that it'd been her own. Minuette smacked her lips and gazed down at the table. She wiped up the small puddle of drool with her fetlock. She found her eyes landing on the spread-open letter. It was lying inches from her own. A blink, then her gaze was searching the basement lab instead. Something felt wrong. The mare stood, shaking her head. Her thoughts were beginning to coalesce again, which helped. Last night had been rough, but she was glad for Amy's presence and understanding. What was that metaphor she'd come up with? Iron? Minuette could get deep, sometimes. The mare stretched, steadily growing more... not aware, exactly, but present. Like when a crew of sailors returned to manning the ship after a lunch break. The break had been last night and the sailors her thoughts. ... or something like that. Even now, Minuette struggled to explain herself. Her self. Interesting... Do sailors even have lunch breaks? But that wasn't important, now. Having fully woken up, she realized what felt wrong; her stomach was growling, and protesting its pain quite insistently. Minuette could continue to work in spite of it--would even have done so, given the choice, but then Whoovsie would get all mad at her. Her stallion was cute when angry, but not enough so to overpower the guilt she faced when making him worry. It was morning, right? An analog clock hung on the far wall--one that in many ways was the basement's sole link to the rest of Equestria--said as much. Today was... Saturday. Something special nagged at her mind, but she brushed that aside and headed towards the stairs. Various animal species hibernated through the winter, entering a deep sleep to conserve energy and heighten chances of survival. Bears, in particular, came to mind at that moment--they took shelter in caves until the time came to reemerge and rejoin the rest of Equestria. Now, contrary to popular belief, bears didn't actually sleep during this time. Ponyville's resident animal caretaker, Fluttershy, had been quick to correct that while she was a client. But bears did lower their metabolisms and spend the winter exclusively in their caves, which was fairly close to sleep anyway. The point being, of course, that Minuette largely resembled a hangry bear emerging for the first time in months as she finished ascending the stairs. She didn't feel that way--supremely hungry, perhaps, but not disagreeable by any means--yet her bedhead, bloodshot eyes, moderate frown, and unsteady gait hardly attested to that. The mare stumbled her way to the dining room, bonking her horn and hooves on various corners as she went. Minuette was not a morning pony. Muffled voices and the sweet smell of fresh pancakes led the zombie-mare to the kitchen. With eyes half-closed she let her nose guide the way as she tried to blink awake. A pit stop to the hallway bathroom to splash some cold water in her face aided significantly, then Minuette continued left, towards the back of the house. Her ears twitched as she heard the ongoing conversation within just now becoming understandable. "... all I'm saying is, you ought to at very least consider it. Can't you trust my word when I say my town isn't out to get you?" Minuette rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, feeling the chill of the tiles against her sensitive frogs. A noise of acknowledgement from her husband let her know his general direction, but her eyes were too closed to make out anything save fuzzy blurs. "Why, hello, dear! How are you this fine morning?" Whoovsie's voice was chipper and light, but almost forcibly so, which was worrying. Minuette opened her muzzle to form a response, perhaps one that commented on his tone, but all that came out was a dry groan. She was about to clear her throat and try again, but a warm mug of steaming coffee was all but shoved in her face instead. The mare grabbed it in both forehooves and proceeded to chug, her eyes widening as energy flooded her system. "Better now, Min?" Minuette mustered the presence of mind to nod, even as the mug emptied and a fresh one was placed in her hooves. Then, another voice spoke. "I thought mares didn't need to sleep." Small and tremulous, but with a degree of petulance that was hard not to notice. Almost without thought, the mare's blue gaze traveled across her stallion--brown maned and tan-coated, with a spiky manestyle and eyes that sparkled with warmth--to the muted green colt sitting at the dining room table some feet away. Seated on a tall chair as he was, Heath could glare down at her with rebellious fire in his amber eyes. This being exactly what he was doing at the moment. Minuette gulped and glanced down, her hesitance potent. "Not quite accurate, good chap--they still need a few hours' worth. But Minnie here is known for neglecting even that! Isn't that right, dearest?" Time Turner's tone was far from accusatory--'affectionate' would have been more accurate--but the unicorn in question still gave a sheepish smile and nod. She avoided looking at the colt again, but only just. Instead, she headed for the kitchen counter, where a stack of fresh pancakes waited. Glancing around in vain, she gave a thankful nod at her husband's helpful: "Syrup's on the right," before grabbing the bottle in her magic. Minuette refrained from turning back around as she poured the syrup. Instead, she watched the substance gloop onto her breakfast, trying to think up a good simile to distract herself. She heard Time Turner's hoofsteps as he retreated back to the table, back towards Heath. That was good. The colt was petulant, irritated, willful. Intelligent, agitated, fitful. Minuette had seen the tightness of his posture, even in what brief glance she'd had. This child was terrified of her, of what she could--what he thought she would--do. It made her sick. Her pancakes seemed less appetizing every moment, but she forced the fork around in her telekinesis, anyway. Minuette wasn't even that empathetic in the first place; she often had trouble connecting with ponies, preferring to lose herself in her work. Her herdsisters doubtless had it worse off--well, Derpy did, at least. Nurse seemed to have connected quite well, but that was to be expected. Minuette sighed, levitating her clean plate to the kitchen sink, both males behind her speaking in hushed whispers. That look in Heath's eyes, it practically haunted her. Just imaging what could have happened to cause it, it made her want to beat the snot out of somepony, and she hardly considered herself prone to violence. As dishes, cutlery, and ingredients flew back to their respective homes, suspended in shimmering yellow, the mare's eyes landed on the bottle of maple syrup. Like painting a golden sunrise across a canvas of fluffy clouds? It was a stretch and she knew it, almost scoffing at herself. It did remind her, though, of a metaphor far more relevant and better thought through. Iron. Minuette smiled, feeling herself cheer up. She turned, finished with putting everything away, and locked eyes with her husband. She hesitated, discouraged by a still-terrified Heath, but soldiered on. "Where's everypony else?" Time Turner thought for a moment, tapping his chin with a hoof. Heath was leaning out from the chair and into his side, most of his weight on the stallion. Noticing this, he gently wrapped his forelegs around the colt and brought him to the tile floor. Heath took shelter behind Minuette's husband immediately, staring her down while he began to answer. "Amy is helping set up for the Celebration--we'll have to meet up with her before sundown. Muffins is taking Dinks around to see everything and finish some deliveries. I do believe..." Whoovsie pondered some more, seemingly oblivious to Heath pressing himself ever tighter against his lower back. Minuette blinked and tried to apologize with her expression, but the colt's ears flattened and he only continued to stare. "... Nurse left a few minutes ago to check up on some business at the hospital. She neglected to share details with me, but should be back soon." The tan stallion smiled, that same shining smile he was infamous for and that stole her heart more every time she saw it. "Until then, it's just the three of us! Don't we make a terrific trio?" Minuette smiled back, but the expression was short-lived; Heath grew yet more nervous--perhaps thanks to the reminder--and Turner's attention was back on him in an instant. The colt was scowling at her, but shivering all over. She wasn't fooled by his aggression, more worried for his safety. He could sprain something if he kept at it like that, but luckily, Turner's calming gestures seemed to be helping. "Who the hay is 'Nurse'?" The stallion wrapped his forelegs around the foal, stroking his back. Heath's amber eyes never left Minuette's blue form, though his quaking did abate somewhat when she moved away, towards a window. "Redheart's full name is 'Nurse Redheart,'" Whoovsie explained patiently. "Her first name is 'Nurse'. The situation became rather puzzling when she received her doctorate, though. In the interest of preventing mass confusion, she goes by her last name." For a moment, quick though it was, Heath seemed to become so puzzled by this information that he forgot to be scared. "So, she's Doctor Nurse Redheart?" He said, clearly reeling from the absurdity, but both Minuette and Time Turner nodded in confirmation. The colt spent a few moments blinking, digesting this, while the mare checked outside. Their front yard was empty, as was the connecting street, but she could see ponies milling around in the distance and pegasi flitting about in the sky. When Minuette turned to look back at the males under her current supervision, she saw them again muttering in low voices to each other. Curious and concerned in equal measure, her ears swiveled forward as she leaned in slightly. Neither of them noticed and, while her stallion knew enough about the equine range of hearing to keep himself inaudible, Heath was loud enough to be heard. "She can do anything she wants to us. To me. Nopony would stop her. You couldn't stop her." Time Turner appeared about to disagree, but the colt cut him off. "Could you stop her? If she set her mind to it, could you do literally anything?" Silence, which was all the answer Heath needed. Turner's mouth became a thin line, while the colt's dour frown became a scowl. Minuette's ears drooped back. She slumped to the floor, looking away. Her new family member thought that she'd soon attack. This was going to be quite the day. "No, I won't have you insult my wife like that. Sit right there and watch." The mare's eyes widened as, before she could think, Whoovsie stood and approached her, looking back at a colt who was just as shocked as she was. "Minuette is a lovely mare--the first I pledged myself to, in fact. I won't sit by while you imply she'd do... things." With that, he firmly grasped both sides of her face and yanked it in for a kiss. She could have easily pulled away; no stallion's strength was enough to hold even the weakest of mares, after all. She didn't, though, obviously. The only reason Minuette didn't reciprocate immediately was surprise, but the whinny died in her throat after a few moments and she leaned in instead. Turner was wonderful. Her husband was wonderful. She closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy him for a few seconds, forgetting about anything else. This was right, this was good. Her lips formed a smile against his, which did the same. Warmth blossomed in the mare's barrel as they broke the kiss, rubbing their foreheads together. All the sadness from a minute ago was entirely forgotten. It seemed like stormy skies were replaced by sunny weather. Her lover was caring, good, and soft like cotton. She would protect him. That fire every mare had for her stallion burned bright within her. She knew he felt it, that he was comforted by it. She, in turn, heard his wordless apology and accepted it. No implications from Heath would ever overpower this. She could handle things from him, was determined to help as best she could. Whoovsie understood this message and nodded, then pulled away. They turned as one, only to see a stunned colt with tears welling up in his eyes. "What... the hay was that?!" Both adults blinked. The child sat, heavily. "You... you just..." Heath sniffled, wiping his nose with a fetlock. "You looked so happy, I..." He stared right at Time Turner with a strange expression, some mix of confusion, betrayal, and a bit of hope. The stallion was suddenly very unsure of himself, glancing inquisitively at Minuette. The mare, for her part, gave a little shrug. "W-why... why..." Heath drooped to the floor, burying his muzzle in his forelegs. The next words out of his mouth were under a whisper. "Why wasn't it that way for me?" Spurred into action, Time Turner all but leapt at the colt, heaving him into a full-body hug. Minuette's ears swiveled, detecting the front door as it creaked open. She opted to leave the two to it and headed for the foyer instead of staying to try and help. Nurse was there, turned away and brushing some leaves out of her wavy mane with a hoof. It was rare to see those pink locks outside of a tight bun, but Minuette pushed that thought out and refocused. "You're just in time, Red. Heath could really use you right now." I don't know what to do or how to help. This thought went unspoken but, when Redheart spun and locked eyes with her, she seemed to get the right idea. "Where?" Pointing, the unicorn breathed out a sigh. "The kitchen." It was as simple as that. 'Comforting duty' was officially foisted onto somepony more capable. Minuette tried to dismiss her disappointment in herself, knowing intellectually that this really was out of her hooves. Until Heath trusted her enough to not expect she'd ra... well... there wasn't much she could do. Minuette considered returning to her basement to work on her project--that letter did still need to get finished, after all. But another thought occurred to her, one that would not allow that course of action. The Celebration is tonight. She would have to get ready. Princess Luna herself was coming to visit humble little Ponyville, after all. The only question was, would Heath be joining them? "So, this 'celebration,' as you call it, gets held annually in various locations in honor of, in your own words, 'Her Divine Majesty Princess Luna?'" The disdain in these words was heavier than the moon itself, but Redheart nodded without a single care. The doctor didn't even break stride, continuing on the path to Ponyville's town hall. Time Turner trotted along on her right, hustling a bit to keep up and so close that their sides regularly brushed. Minuette, situated on her Alpha's left, was much farther and able to make out Amy rolling her eyes in the back. A scolding look communicated her chastisement, but the youth simply looked away. Heath adjusted himself atop Redheart's back, letting his stubby forelegs drape across her broad shoulders. "Why am I not surprised that there's a female ruler?" He seemed about to say more, perhaps some biting remark, but fell silent at the last moment. Minuette had to admit, she was curious as to what he would have said--especially with such a strange reaction. His disrespect towards Princess Luna, a mare she'd once been a direct student under, was nigh on unbearable, but she could forgive it. Whoovsie was the one to speak next. "Why, you sound like you've never heard of the Princess before, good chap! You did say you used to live in Manehattan, unless I'm mistaken?" The stallion's voice held only curiosity, but Heath showed no intention of responding. He only shuffled a bit, looking uncomfortable enough that the point was soon dropped. Derpy, walking on Turner's right with an excited Dinky on her back, apparently saw fit to interject. "I promise it'll be a lot of fun! The princess raises the moon in front of everypony, brighter than any other night! It's said that whoever sees it personally has good dreams for a whole week!" While the colt seemed slightly intrigued by this last bit, he still fixed her with an unimpressed glare. "I'm only coming along to prove a point. When, not if, some mare--maybe you--grabs me and takes off, I'll know for a fact just how twisted this place is." Derpy wilted like a dried flower and glanced away, saddened. Dinky reflexively threw her forelegs around her mother's neck, nuzzling into her withers with adorable ferocity. Redheart finally turned her head, locking eyes with her passenger, a hardness in her expression. "I won't let that happen, Heath. I don't expect you to not be afraid, but you need to believe me when I say that." The colt shakily gulped, then nodded. She held his gaze a few moments longer, then returned to leading her herd to their destination. It'd taken the whole day to convince him to come, and Heath had only agreed so long as they stayed on the outskirts and didn't engage with anypony. His hesitance and fear were apparent, but so was a... difference of sorts in how he acted. If Minuette had to guess, she'd say her little kiss with Whoovsie had planted something in him, like a little seed of doubt. He might've even felt some of her fire, and was definitely feeling Redheart's right now. But Heath had made it very clear to everypony else in the herd that this was a one-time deal, that he fully expected something terrible to happen, and that he would not be leaving Redheart's back for the duration of the Celebration. Very clear. Minuette knew this was a step in the right direction. If trips outside like this could become a regularity, the colt might eventually realize that nopony was out to get him. The road would be rough, but he'd eventually learn to trust his protectors. The unicorn certainly looked forward to the day when he could feel safe around her; being the object of somepony's fear was hardly a good feeling. Yes, the road would be rough, but hardship was meant to improve. Iron. Minuette found her optimistic smile returning as her herd entered Town Hall, just in time to catch the last bits of Mayor Mare's introduction. Craning their necks to see over the mass of heads, they situated themselves in the outskirts, towards the back. Derpy took flight, likely both to give herself and Dinky a better view as well as make more room for the others. The crowd was tight, but Minuette and Amy were able to position themselves in a perimeter of sorts, clearing space for Redheart and Turner between them. "And so, fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado, I now present Her Divine Majesty Princess Luna!" Ponyville Town Hall erupted with cheering and stomping hooves as the cream-coated mayor grandly stepped to the side of the stage, gesturing to the closed curtains behind her. Minuette watched with bated breath, internally wondering how much their beloved ruler might've changed since she'd last seen her. Abruptly, though, her eagerness turned into shock. The massive audience's applause became loud gasps of horror. The curtains had parted, revealing not a regal Princess of Night, but a barren stage. "She's gone!" Cried somepony, as horrified gasps made way for frantic murmuring. Before mass panic could break out, however, the sun--which Minuette could swear had been much lower in the sky before---flashed mightily. Everypony was left blinking and, when their vision cleared, a majestic, terrible figure stood on the stage in place of their Princess. A tall, slender build that nonetheless displayed incredible strength and power. Black pits for eyes, with flaming pupils that burned with emotion. Enormous, feathery wings spread wide in a dominant posture. A long, spiraling horn that stuck out at least three feet from the head. Radiant white fur that seemed to glow in the increased light of the sun. Its--Her--mane and tail were literal flame, a dark orange color that matched her fearsome regalia. It seemed like the whole crowd shrunk away from this creature, this pony, while she stood there and surveyed them for several seconds. Finally, a wicked grin formed on the alicorn's face and she stepped forward with one powerful flap of her wings. "Greetings, beloved subjects! You may not know of me, but I remember you." The grin intensified, turning predatory. Minuette noticed the glint of fangs, even as she moved to stand in front of Amy, Redheart, and Time Turner. "It has been quite some time since I was last around. Allow me to introduce myself." The terrible creature took flight, rending the air and sending pegasi tumbling away as she spread her legs. "My name is Daybreaker!" Manic laughter exploded from the mare, echoing around the building and making ears splay against heads. Colts and stallions everywhere were getting ushered into circles of mares. A glance back revealed Heath laying flat on Redheart's back, both forelegs squeezing her neck. Time Turner was equally close, with a fearful expression to match. Derpy had landed and joined the huddle, pressing against the stallion's other side. When Minuette's gaze returned, she saw a vaguely familiar purple unicorn left standing alone in the center of Town Hall. "I know who you are!" Minuette even recognized her voice from somewhere. Had she also been a student at Princess Luna's school? "I read the tales and saw the signs. I'm going to stop you, Daybreaker!" This brave soul was only given enough time to light her horn. Daybreaker sneered down at her, a fiery force of nature glaring down a mere insect. Her horn lit, then a beam of flames and light rushed down and smote this rebellious pony. When the attack faded away, only charred, smoking carpet remained. And maniacal laughter once more rang in their ears. Chapter Nine - The Break Of DooDerpy Hooves was not a panicky mare. Now, this didn't mean she couldn't have her moments; far from it, as many in the town could testify. In defiance of her wishes, packages were sometimes delivered late, her husband got into all sorts of trouble building his machines, and Dinky was always looking for the next most dangerous adventure. Derpy Hooves had every right to be anxious about these things and more and, really, it was a testament to her steadiness of mind that she was as moderate as she was in her responses. Now, Derpy Hooves hadn't always been this way. It had taken many years of effort and habit-building to make this steady of an emotional state. Relapses were very rare, but they did happen, especially if she was forced to dwell on her eyes for too long. Too long, and she'd remember why they were that way. Too long, and the steadiness she'd worked so hard to obtain would become forfeit. Derpy Hooves had a wonderful herd to help her through things, but Derpy Hooves sometimes couldn't stop herself from wondering. From remembering. From fearing... None of that mattered now. Twilight Sparkle was dead. Derpy Hooves had only met the mare briefly, when she'd been grouching through town earlier, but that didn't mean she was okay with watching her get incinerated. It hadn't even been a moment, she was just gone. No, no, she must've teleported. That's why there was a flash. Right? Surely, no protégé of Princess Luna could just be extinguished like that. Daybreaker, that horrible caricature of an alicorn, was maniacally laughing for only a few moments before the horrified screaming broke out. It was mainly stallions and colts causing the din as their herds rushed to vacate them from the building. Heath wasn't among their number, but he was clearly just as scared, staring at the flaming pony with his mouth agape and amber eyes wide. Heath continued to clutch onto Redheart from his place upon her back, so Derpy Hooves didn't worry too much about him. Derpy Hooves was much more concerned with her husband, Time Turner. He was less scared, but also couldn't simply hitch a ride on Redheart's back. Redheart could definitely carry the two of them, but that would take more time to figure out than they had. Instead, Minuette affixed herself to Time Turner's right shoulder while Amethyst Star took his left. Dinky tightened her hold around Derpy Hooves' neck, gasping softly. With everypony accounted for, Derpy Hooves spun in the air and angled herself towards the doors. All together, the herd rushed outside Town Hall. They'd stayed near the back, so their frantic exit didn't take very long. Daybreaker continued to cackle behind them and Derpy Hooves' ears reflexively flattened. Once out on the street, Redheart was quick to spin in place, scanning the outside of the building. Heath clutched her neck tightly, pressing his face against her withers as he stared blankly into her fur. Time Turner was ushered beside and behind the Alpha. His eyes were wide open and he seemed short of breath as he leaned into Minuette's side. The herd edged backwards, quickly at first, but gradually slowing down as ponies continued to pour out of Town Hall. Heath was muttering something Derpy Hooves couldn't hear and, for a while, nopony else said anything. The world seemed to hold still as she processed the shock of what had just happened. Princess Luna: missing, with no hint of where she could be or why she hadn't been there. Twilight Sparkle: AWOL, presumably a fair distance away or wherever she'd instinctively teleport. Daybreaker: A massive threat that was currently swooping through the air, cackling after bursting through Town Hall's wall. The alicorn's focus was elsewhere, not on Derpy Hooves' herd at the moment, but that was liable to change. Redheart clearly thought the same thing; she broke into a gallop in the opposite direction and everypony else was quick to follow. Derpy Hooves' prerogative was to get her family to safety. Once Time Turner, Dinky, and Amethyst were holed up in their basement or somewhere similar, she could work on helping others. Ponyville didn't have many stallions, but it didn't have much of a militia, either. She'd likely be one of the only lines of defense, which would be crucial if Daybreaker decided to be destructive. The grey pegasus glanced back as she flapped through the air, following her grounded family. Dinky, on her back, had her eyes shut tight and was clutching her neck quite hard, but Derpy Hooves looked past that. She could still see the fallen alicorn behind them, but to her relief, the thing seemed mostly occupied in cackling and watching all the panicking ponies. No destruction yet, aside from the massive hole in Town Hall. Luna willing, everypony could get out of this without any serious injuries. Redheart led the retreat back to their home, weaving through the streets and keeping a steady pace. Amy ran alongside her father, while Minuette brought up the rear. Nopony had said anything yet, but there was still a mutual agreement to get back to their home as soon as possible. Between her measured wingbeats, Dinky whimpering, and the rush of wind in her ears, Derpy Hooves didn't hear much of anything. Her herd was all accounted for, her duties as a mare were being fulfilled, there was little to worry about. Perhaps, with these factors, there was good reason for her not to notice until it was too late. Derpy Hooves' wandering eyes locked onto Heath, a warning making its way up her throat far too late to matter. She could only watch in slow motion as the colt, with Luna only knew what idiotic instinct taking hold of his logical thinking, turned, stood, and leapt off Redheart's back in one burst of frenzied movement. The Alpha immediately skidded to a halt, whipping around with reaction time that matched a Wonderbolt's. Derpy Hooves dove, trusting Dinky to grip tight, wide yellow eyes never leaving their target. The rest of the herd slowed to a halt, watching with horrified expressions. Heath eventually came to a stop after tumbling across the ground. Derpy Hooves was first to reach him, landing heavily and rushing to staunch the blood. Minuette conjured up a cloth and she grabbed that, pressing it firmly into the colt's shoulder. Redheart arrived soon after, cursing loudly. She stomped her forehooves into the ground a few times, then pressed them together and rubbed until they began to softly glow. Wreathed in pink light, they wrapped around the foal's much smaller legs and gently held on. Heath stared blankly ahead through all of it, practically catatonic. He'd had the presence of mind to cover his head as he tumbled, thank the stars, but the damage was still significant; leg bones badly fractured and puncture wounds from the cobblestone road all over. Heavy bruising seemed to be the least of it, but no head injuries and both mares counted their blessings. Redheart worked fast. Derpy helped lift and adjust the colt's body at different times as the doctor ran her healing hooves along it. The effect was instantaneous, truly incredible to watch. Bones knit themselves back together, bruises faded to nothing, open wounds healed as though zipped closed like a jacket. It happened quickly, but not as fast as they'd prefer. "Is he... gonna be okay...?" Amethyst's hesitant voice was first to break the silence. The others had drawn nearer, but thankfully stayed out of the way. Redheart made no reaction and kept working, but Derpy Hooves glanced back at her and gave a reassuring smile. "Yes. Alpha has it handled." Abruptly, Heath shuddered and blinked, jolted out of his daze. The colt's face immediately morphed into a pained grimace, but he didn't scream like Derpy Hooves expected and only groaned. The pegasus locked eyes with him, keeping that reassuring smile as Redheart continued to work her literal magic. "It's okay, Heath. You're gonna be fine." The colt didn't even acknowledge her. He stared straight up, unblinking, with shrunken pupils that betrayed his shock. "She killed her." Derpy Hooves blinked, her brows creasing as she felt Dinky get levitated off her back. She gave Minuette a thankful nod, now able to take a deep breath without the filly squeezing her neck. "Who, Daybreaker? Twilight?" At his nod, she shook her head. "No, no no, Twilight's fine. Don't worry, she teleported." This caused him to finally glance her way and the haunted look in his amber eyes gave Derpy Hooves chills. "Are you certain?" She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. Just then, Redheart took a step back and puffed a breath out. She reached up and wiped some sweat from her brow with a still-glowing hoof, searching Heath's body for any remaining injuries. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" Came her gruff inquiry as she panted softly. The colt finally blinked, his grimace gone as he laid there, facing the sky. He seemed vaguely surprised, and eventually shook his head in the negative. Everypony let out relieved breaths as Derpy Hooves helped him stand and Redheart leaned against her shoulder. Heath shook out his healed legs and edged away from her touch, shooting Derpy Hooves a scathing glare as Time Turner stomped up from behind. "And just what were you thinking, young stallion!?" Heath jolted at the stern voice, whipping around to look up at his enraged foster father. "Leaping off a running mare's back like that!?" The colt shuffled his hooves, suddenly lacking in anything resembling confidence. "Uh, I--um..." He stuttered before being swept up in a tight hug. Tears streamed down Whoovsie's face as he nuzzled with ferocity. "You could've died!" The heartbreaking scene lasted a good while. Everypony not involved shuffled somewhat awkwardly, except for Redheart, who rested heavily against Derpy Hooves for balance as she regained spent energy. Amy actively looked away, while Minuette situated Dinky on her back and cooed at the two. Derpy Hooves stood supporting her Alpha, at once watching both her other herd members in turn and back the way they'd come for any followers. Heath didn't seem very enthused through all of it on the outside, but Derpy Hooves could read enough to know just how deeply he appreciated the affection. This was par for the course with her stallion: a bleeding heart if she ever knew one, and they loved him for it. "While sweet, cuddles and explanations can wait until later." Redheart strode over to Turner who, with some reluctance and coaxing, returned Heath to his spot on her back. "Let's get home, preferably before the fiery sun demon catches up." Nodding and general agreeance followed this statement and the Alpha turned to lead the way again. Derpy Hooves spread her wings and prepared to fall in line, but stopped in her tracks when Redheart turned back to look at her. "Derpy, you should go help the other townsponies. They need you more than we do." Immediately, every fiber of the pegasus' being wanted to protest. She belonged here, with her family, protecting them from danger! How could she possibly leave without knowing they were safe? Her muzzle opened, an objection ready, only for Time Turner to place his hoof on her withers and his chin on her neck. "We'll be okay," he mumbled, pecking her muzzle with a soft smile. "You should go." Derpy Hooves looked around one final time and only saw affirming nods, which made her heave a reluctant sigh. But, she spread her wings and went. "Princess Luna!" An elegant dark blue figure stood poised in a small crater. The word 'regal' came to mind when gazing upon Her Majesty, then quickly became inadequate. A tall, spiraled horn that reached up from her skull to pierce the heavens, graceful, groomed wings that like an owl's made no noise, even her heavy Darksteel plating bore an astonishing degree of splendor, if only because it was her that wore it. There was no question: Princess Luna was a sight to behold. Just not one Derpy Hooves had expected after Daybreaker's surprise entrance. The gray pegasus landed heavily in front of her ruler, utter confusion written plainly across her face. "What... are you doing here? Why weren't you in Town Hall?" But the princess merely waved a hoof, brushing past her as she scanned the skies. "There's no time to discuss my agenda. Daybreaker is free, yes?" Derpy Hooves recognized the urgency in Luna's voice and snapped to attention, nodding in affirmation. Luna sighed, spreading her wings and giving them a few test flaps. "Then we must be swift. Have you already gathered the militia?" Derpy Hooves nodded again, but opted to elaborate. "Yes. We've been helping evacuate the civilians and mitigate damages. We haven't been able to engage Daybreaker directly, though." Luna gave one firm nod, then shot up into the sky. Derpy Hooves was quick to follow and they both located a hovering Daybreaker relatively quickly. Scattered members of Ponyville's militia--every last one exclusively a pegasus--spotted their princess in the air and abandoned what they were doing to immediately follow. By the time Princess Luna confronted Daybreaker some fifty feet above the ground, a veritable swarm of militia members--Derpy Hooves included--had surrounded them both. Daybreaker smiled as everypony approached, some even drawing weapons. She glanced down at the street for a few moments, almost as though searching for something. Then, a quick, almost-imperceptible bright flash emitted from her horn and she raised a foreleg, pointing it at Luna. "Ap-up-up! You're going to hear me out and not come any closer." Princess Luna glared, lowered her head as her elegant wings beat against the sky, and replied with gritted teeth: "And why is that?" Daybreaker smiled and her horn blazed to life. Derpy Hooves' heart dropped straight into her barrel. Gasps rang out from both her and the other militia members, all while Luna's eyes widened and she dropped a few inches. "Because," said the fiery creature, levitating a squirming chartreuse colt whom Derpy Hooves recognized all too well, "I have a hostage!" Daybreaker giggled a bit, magically waving Heath around in the air to reinforce her point. "You wouldn't want anything terrible to happen to him, now would you?" Princess Luna made a calming gesture, though whether it was directed at the fallen alicorn or the members of Ponyville's militia, Derpy Hooves couldn't say. She couldn't do much of anything at this point, really. Derpy Hooves was able to restrain herself, but only just. "Very well, Daybreaker," called the princess in a voice far too tranquil for the situation. "What are your demands?" The beast in question scoffed, throwing her forelegs open as she hovered in the air. "Demands? I simply wish to talk! Or has the Great Dreamgiver Luna fallen so far that civil discussion is beneath her?" Derpy Hooves struggled to pay attention to anything else. She found her eyes, both of them, had locked onto the flailing foal she was responsible for. Heath was held in Daybreaker's dark orange aura, levitating far above the ground. If he fell, chances weren't great she'd be able to catch him in time. With the way he was writhing and the alicorn's focus largely elsewhere, this was too great a possibility. She tried to get his attention, to motion him to stop struggling so much, but to no avail. Heath, evidently, was out of it. The longer this went on, the more dangerous it'd get. Derpy Hooves needed to do something, but what? "You've become far too soft, dear Luna. This nation has suffered for it, and I can no longer stand to watch." Daybreaker flapped ever closer to the princess, who hovered a short distance away and just below eye level. "All I ask is that you give the throne back. Sounds reasonable, no? Allow me to rule, or I'll burn everything in this wretched country to the ground." The creature grinned, toothily and with malice. "You know you couldn't stop me." Princess Luna was silent for several moments. For a time, nothing much further occurred. With anxiety, Derpy Hooves kept watching Heath as he tumbled around in the air, kicking wildly off to Daybreaker's side. It seemed, in those moments, that the world only held the four of them. "You wouldn't hurt anypony. Not again." Princess Luna's regal, soft voice broke the silence and the moment. It was slight, but Daybreaker's eyes widened and she reeled back a little. Derpy Hooves did similarly, having not expected this reply. "I know that even more, dear sister." Stunned by this revelation, Derpy Hooves blinked rapidly at the same time that Daybreaker's expression soured. She pulled Heath in a little closer, gesturing to his tumbling form. Everypony tensed in the air. "You sound so sure of that, 'sister', yet you still respect my hostage situation. Why bother to listen if I wouldn't hurt this foal anyway?" She stretched a foreleg out while her magic tightened, locking Heath in an upright position. With the ripples in the air above Daybreaker's body, Derpy Hooves could only imagine how much heat radiated from the 'alicorn'. She could only watch that blazing hoof grow ever nearer to Heath's contorted face. Could only wish for something to do. Daybreaker's sneer intensified. "What if I'm different, now? What if I've changed, sister? Perhaps I've simply stopped caring as much." The 'alicorn' locked eyes with Luna, glaring mightily for the world to see. "Can you really take that chance?" Princess Luna remained stoic, as she always had. Then, Derpy Hooves felt her stomach drop as Daybreaker glanced over at her. "Can your subjects?" Derpy Hooves had had chills down her spine before. This wasn't that. Nothing about Daybreaker could give a pony chills. She felt her mouth dry up. She felt the sun beat down upon her. Felt vulnerable, like there was nowhere to hide. Derpy Hooves was scared--terrified, really. It felt like all hope was lost. It felt like there was nothing she could do to help, either herself or her country or her herd or anypony. For the first time in a long time, Derpy Hooves was panicking and it felt like her downward spiral had no end in sight. Then, she remembered. Her muzzle opened, unleashing a savage war cry. Wings that once flapped helplessly now shot out and beat upon the air. She returned Daybreaker's stare, glaring back with the vitriol of a warrior scorned. She was snarling, all but frothing at the mouth as she lunged through the sky. Luna had to hold her back as Daybreaker reeled away, shocked. The 'alicorn' eyed her up and down, surprise turning to satisfaction. "Oooh, I like this one," the fiery figure said, grinning and turning to Luna. "I had no idea you were making soldiers this... ferocious." Ditzy's yellow eyes burned with hate. "Maybe I was wrong about you going soft!" Restrained by a regal blue glow, Ditzy could do little but hang there. Luna's stoic mask finally cracked, but the only emotion that shone through it was lethargy. "Daybreaker, please," Ditzy had never heard her princess sound so tired, "release the colt. I shall continue to hear you out, on my word. Nopony need be gravely injured this day." The leg that had been outstretched now tapped at its owner's chin. Daybreaker considered this while Heath continued to dangle and Ditzy stayed locked in place. The other militia members watched from afar, nothing but blurry shapes to her laser-focused eyes. "Very well, then. I guess I'll have to let him go." And suddenly Heath was dropping like a stone back to the earth. Ditzy lunged against her restraints, gasping and reaching uselessly. Other pegasi dove, but they were too far away to possibly reach him in time. The colt's wings flapped as he fell through the air, practically decorations for all the good they did. He screamed, was wreathed in a familiar blue glow, then teleported with a pop safely in Luna's forelegs. Princess Luna worked with brisk efficiency. She pulled one of the other pegasi aside--Blossomforth, that was her name--and gave some hushed instructions. Ditzy could scarcely think through the red in her vision, but she listened to her princess when she yanked her around and spoke harsh commands to the grey mare's snarling face. "Disengage and lead this mare to your herd," Luna ordered, placing a shivering Heath in Blossomforth's forelegs. "The colt is hers, correct?" This she asked the other pegasus, seeing as Ditzy was unable to answer. Blossomforth blinked, cradled the foal gently, and nodded. A quick spell stilled him, then Luna released her hold on Ditzy. "Go home. I shall handle things here." Ditzy wanted to protest. Ditzy wanted to tear the threat limb from limb. Ditzy wanted to bring honor to her name through glorious, bloody victory. What Ditzy wanted wasn't important. She had her orders, and no amount of blind rage would stop her from following them. "And, Ditzy," Luna added as the two began to flap away, "do try to calm down." Daybreaker watched all of this with a lazy interest. She watched the pegasi retreat back to the ground. She continued to watch as they headed down the emptied street. Ditzy watched her right back, tracking the 'alicorn' with one eye until she faded from view. Rage, uncontrollable fury still burned inside Ditzy. There would be no outlet, no exit for it except the slow simmer back down to room temperature. She wasn't safe to be around at the moment. She wasn't able to hold her own foster child, lest an accident happen. She hadn't been this way in a long time. She'd thought this behavior was behind her. She'd been doing so well recently. Ditzy stewed in anger at both her enemy and herself as she led Blossomforth back to her home. Blossomforth probably knew where she lived already, so there wasn't much point to it. Orders were orders, though. "For what it's forth, Ditzy," Blossomforth's tenuous voice snapped the grey mare from her musing, "I'm sorry." Ditzy glanced back at her fellow Ponyville militia member. Blossomforth's expression was wry, regretful, understanding. She understood. Empathized, even. Ditzy landed heavily on the ground and she was quick to follow, smoothly transferring Heath to balance on her back instead. Ditzy was still angry, but suddenly so very tired, too. Her only response was a weak nod, to which her partner nodded right back. For the second time that hour, Ditzy Doo traveled home. The weight of her memories rested heavily upon her withers, pressing the pegasus down into the street. Her wings drooped, as did her ears and tail, all faltering like flags at half-staff. Still the rage remained, evident in her raised hackles and bristling fur. Blossomforth trotted along at her side, supportive, though distant. One of Ditzy's eyes locked onto Heath, balanced securely between the other mare's wings. Her other eye remained pointed ahead, guiding her plodding, heavy steps. The colt was soundly asleep, at least for the moment; Princess Luna had no equals when it came to dream magic. Still, this experience would doubtless be remembered, and not with fondness. Yet another mark on the foal's psyche, as well as her own. Failure made Ditzy's muzzle crinkle in a snarl. She grimaced an ugly grimace and turned away, marching onward. Movement from ahead drew Ditzy's attention next. Peering up, she made out the familiar form of her Alpha Herdsister frantically barreling down the street like a loose freight train. Ditzy raised a wing high, drawing Redheart's attention and causing her to immediately change course for the two of them. Ditzy came to a stop and watched her close the distance. Blossomforth halted also, positioned a little behind her, but not such that she couldn't see the other pegasus' sizable unease. Granted, that reaction was hardly inexcusable, especially given the manic mare charging their way and the precious cargo Blossomforth carried on her back. "Derpy!" Redheart all but screamed, "Have you seen Heath?! He disappeared out from under me, I swear I had no--" Ditzy turned her head and looked meaningfully at Blossomforth, who waved her hoof with the awkwardness of a schoolfilly giving her first class presentation. Redheart locked onto her, then the snoozing colt on her back, all while her mouth formed an acute 'O'. Without further comment Ditzy's Alpha strode forward, holding a hoof out. Blossomforth understood the message completely and it took a mere few seconds for the 'goods' to be exchanged. Ditzy watched everything through the red in her vision, still periodically clenching her teeth and blowing steam through her nostrils. "Derpy, you--oh," Redheart cut herself off again, but still subconsciously slung her new passenger across her withers like some tacky fur scarf. Her pink mane, thoroughly disheveled and in need of a good brushing, had broken free of its usual neat bun and now tangled itself expertly around each of sleeping Heath's six limbs. "Oh, that's not good. We need to get you home." Ditzy Doo nodded, her nose still wrinkled in a sneer and grey wings still out and twitching. Crackling with unspent charge. She dared not speak, lest enraged screaming wake or scare the colt. Ditzy wished she could calm down. That was really all she wanted, in that moment. Still, her eyes continued to swivel and her blood continued to burn. Her brain, that useless lump of meat, kept remembering what had happened in the past whenever she let her guard down. So, she kept raging. Kept hating. It felt wrong, but good, too. The three of them continued home in abject silence. Blossomforth didn't really have a good reason to follow, but she'd muttered something about "making sure the three of you get home safe" and nopony had deemed it worth arguing. With their destination in sight and approaching fast, Heath finally saw fit to shake off his magically-compelled slumber. Ditzy tracked him, all but glaring, with one eye while the other focused on navigating the cobbled path. Practically restrained in Redheart's mane, there was little the colt could do aside from opening his eyes and staring back. Ditzy expected fear. What she hadn't prepared for was awe. "You... use anger." Redheart's ears swiveled back while Ditzy's perked upright. Heath smiled, his amber eyes practically shining in worship. "Rage. Hate. Fury. They're strong." Reaching up, he brushed a tangled lock of Redheart's mane out of his face. He never broke the stare, nor shifted away from that haunting smile. "You must feel so... strong." Ditzy blinked, shocked at first. Then her scowl intensified. The rage boiled over and she all but hissed her words out: "You think I feel strong!?" Ditzy charged closer, glaring deeply into those idiotic amber eyes. "You think I like this!?" Heath didn't recoil, only staring back in silent challenge. Something about that rebellious expression felt like a sharp slap to the face. Ditzy snorted steam, feeling bloodlust take over, feeling her wings rise and crackle with electric power, feeling absolutely miserable. Redheart was quick to interfere, turning and lashing out with a buck before anything could happen. Ditzy saw it coming and let it connect, knowing she deserved it. While she reeled away from the blow, Blossomforth approached from the side, tackling Ditzy to the ground and pinning her there. Ditzy didn't try to struggle out of the headlock. She merely laid there in self-loathing, still glaring daggers at Heath as blood spurted from her nose. What he'd said was sick. She felt sick and to some degree disbelieved that she'd even heard it. What kind of idiot would say something like that? Wordlessly, Redheart turned back around, somewhat hiding her rider from view. Ditzy's Alpha stared into her forward-facing, acid-yellow eyes and frowned. Deeply, commandingly, powerfully. Ditzy felt herself recoil, even in her anger, and she lowered her head as much as she could in submission, feeling the headlock loosen. "Let's get you home, Ditzy. You need to cool off." Redheart reached down and pressed a glowing forehoof against Ditzy's bleeding muzzle, then craned her neck to look back at her tangled passenger with an expression of chastisement. "And don't go antagonizing ponies like that, Heath. She's been through enough crap as it is." The colt mumbled something Ditzy couldn't hear through the pounding in her ears. Thankfully, the throbbing pain in her nostrils was quick to leave while the trail of red cleared up in no time. Blossomforth, apparently satisfied that Ditzy wasn't going to be taking any heads, released her and offered a hoof to help her stand. "Now c'mon," Redheart beckoned, starting away from them, "we're almost there." Ditzy had just reached her home's front door when a sudden whoosh from behind bade her turn and look back. There, in the distance--right about the area she'd helped confront Daybreaker--a massive, rainbow-colored beam of magic swung high into the air before crashing down. The resulting surge of raw magic visibly swept through all of town, like a tidal wave of pure power. Everypony's manes and tails were blown back as they struggled against the pressure, trying to avoid being pushed over. This wave of magic carried with it a sort of positive energy. Ditzy felt it wash over her and suddenly she wasn't as miserable anymore. The anger and self-loathing were still there, but greatly reduced. Like faint aches that remained after taking painkillers, or maybe the thrill of battle that stuck around long after victory. "... Anypony have any idea what that was?" Blossomforth's hesitant voice tore Derpy Hooves from her thoughts and back to the present. There she was, paused on the front porch of her home as the last of the magical surge faded away. Derpy Hooves shook her head in response, then opted to simply turn back and open the door. "Whatever it was," Redheart replied, shrugging as she followed Derpy Hooves in, "it was definitely none of our business. You could go check it out, though." Blossomforth nodded, waving goodbye as she flared her wings. "I think I will. Best of luck to you!" Then she was gone, and the front door swung closed behind her. Derpy Hooves stood for a moment, finally back inside, and sighed. The simmering rage was finally fading away, and for that she was grateful. Whatever that rainbow beam had been, it certainly wasn't anything evil; no wicked force could have so calming an effect. Derpy Hooves headed straight for the living room, then the nearest couch. Redheart followed, still carrying a drowsy Heath slung across her withers. The grey pegasus sat, closing her wonky eyes and adorning what she hoped was a serene expression, while her Alpha stood a few feet before her. "You doing alright? This hasn't happened in a while." Redheart's voice carried a hint of worry, which didn't help matters. Derpy Hooves quelled the urge to sigh again, merely lowering her head until her chin rested on the seat cushion. "I'll be okay," she said, her voice small. "You should check on the others. Whoovsie must be worried." Redheart nodded--which Derpy Hooves couldn't see, per se, but still knew happened--and started towards the basement door. At the last moment, however, she hesitated and looked back, for once letting the confidant, self-assured Alpha façade fade away and reveal the insecurities beneath. "Are you... sure?" Derpy Hooves' eyes snapped open and she offered a lopsided smile. "Yes." She lied. Redheart nodded again and shortly descended out of sight. Minutes later, Derpy Hooves finally settled into troubled slumber. Chapter One - Or How I Got Completely Screwed OverAuthor's Note Hey, author here. Just wanted to say that, yes, I messed up on this chapter. I really wish I'd started the story differently, as this beginning seems to give off all the wrong vibes. It is staying, though, for two main reasons: I don't really know how else to go about it--this was always the beginning of the story, even in the earliest ideas of it. There are plot threads and dangly bits that depend on these words, so it'd be a lot of work to change and I'd rather move forward with things. It's generally good taste, as far as I've seen, to leave one's mistakes open and viewable. By leaving it as-is, I accept that I'm not perfect and can learn from these experiences, while inviting others to do the same. I know much, if not most, of my writing ability comes not from practicing myself, but reading other people's works. Rest assured, this is not a story about hating women. I like to think I'm a reasonable guy and I hold no such feelings toward anyone, really. No personal attacks, please, even if I happen to write characters that come off as raging cesspits or the like--they are not self-inserts or reflections of me, at least not in that sense. No, that doesn't mean Heath is meant to be likeable, at least at the start. The hope was that fewer people would be able to relate to him and whatnot, but I guess everything sorta backfired with this chapter. TL;DR, I hear you, I've seen the comments, I know this thing sucks. In the interest of improving my writing ability and pandering to those that apparently still like this story anyway, I will be continuing. I am sorry if I offended anyone; that was never my intention. Just... can we stop harping on this one mistake? Please? Thank you, that's all I ask. Chapter One - Or How I Got Completely Screwed Over In my experience living on planet Earth, it is customary to rub one's closed eyes when awakening from a good night's rest. I, of course, never cared to count how many mornings I'd started with that action; suffice it to say that the habit was thoroughly ingrained in my routine. Naturally, the deed assisted with regaining consciousness, helping to break that sandy stuff that keeps our eyes closed and perhaps rub some life into a rebooting brain. Obviously, the first thing I opted to do once I was sufficiently awake was this very action, as I'd done it countless times before with resounding success. I'm sure you can thusly sympathize with my shock when I felt not the warm grasp of fingers across my face, but instead a cold, hard surface making rather speedy contact with my nose. Ow. Shocked, pained, and successfully roused, I could only blink stupidly as my blurry vision cleared. In my daze, I tried clutching my throbbing nose, which only earned yet another hard impact. This, as you can doubtlessly understand, was quite jarring and my eyes consequently flew open to glare at the offending appendage. I expected a closed fist, perhaps numb because I'd slept on it wrong and maybe that was why I somehow couldn't feel my fingers. A pale green hoof, attached quite soundly to a similarly-colored foreleg, was the first thing my gaze focused on. It was an objectively hideous color, one far too close to chartreuse for my liking. I'd always hated that particular shade, though for what exact reason I couldn't say. The fetlock flexed when I tensed what should have been a wrist and after some other small tests I concluded that it was, in fact, part of my body. I laid there, vacantly staring up at the hoof, for quite some time. After that, it fell limply to my side as I scrunched up my face, shutting my eyes in what could reasonably be called exasperation. Oh, come on, thought I. Now, you were probably expecting a slightly more...bombastic reaction. I will admit, the urge to scream and run in circles was definitely present--fairly tempting, in fact. The thing is, I just wasn't that kind of person. Now, I won't claim to be logical or clear-minded about things, but, faced with a sudden transformation into goodness-knows what, I found abject frustration to be my sole emotion. Eventually, I reopened my eyes and rolled to my stomach, figuring it best to run damage control and see what the heck I looked like. It was at that moment, however, that I finally took a glance at my surroundings and my jaw promptly dropped. This isn't my apartment. Bright orange walls greeted my gaze, painted with murals depicting various woodland creatures prancing about in glee under a light yellow sun. Harsh fluorescent lighting glared down from above, working in tandem with the curtained window to illuminate the modestly-sized room around me. A sterile floor stretched below, looking thoroughly-cleaned and almost painfully white. A harsh chemical smell wafted from seemingly everywhere, so strong I wondered how I hadn't detected it before. Spartan furnishing existed in the room; only a bedside table next to the raised mattress I laid upon and some monitoring equipment by an IV I realized I was hooked into. I paused, straining my ears--ignoring, for the moment, the faint rustle and moving sensation I received from such an action--and managed to hear nothing aside from a soft beeping to my left. The white sheets I was tucked into were warm, soft and impeccably clean; they too smelled of that chemical scent I was beginning to recognize as soap. I sighed heavily, either due to relief or disappointment I didn't know, and ponderously examined the room around me. Is this a...hospital? I'd never been in one before, but it seemed to fit the bill. Having studied all I could, I braced for impact and--slowly, to make sure I didn't hurt anything or pull some new muscle I hadn't had before--wriggled out of the blankets. After observing my new body for a while, I found I could only shut my eyes again and let out another sigh. Well, I suppose being an undersized Christmas-colored horse isn't the worst possible thing. Still not my preferred option, though. Ideally, I'd be your regular, run-of-the-mill human male going about his day and not offending whatever cosmic entity decided to put me here. Evidently, I had somehow failed in that endeavor, something to which my bright red tail and tiny, feathery wings could attest. A rush of many different emotions flooded me in that moment, but oddly enough, panic seemed overshadowed by some kind of resignation. Ah, well, I hardly had the time to do a deep-dive into my own psyche; I needed to gather information about my current situation and I needed to do it now. Grunting softly to myself, I stood on all fours--a position that felt all too natural--and promptly hopped down off the bed. Immediately, I noticed two key things: Firstly, the tube attached to the IV I was hooked into wasn't long enough to allow such an action. Secondly, the nightstand in front of me stretched far too high in the air for me to ever reach the bandages I could see at the top. Accompanying these realizations were their just-as-immediate consequences, which I watched as though in slow motion. The needle buried in my fetlock was painfully ripped out with a spurt of blood that, to my horror, didn't seem to slow down much at all. And, despite my frantic hopping, I still couldn't reach the one thing that would help me. Perhaps because of my inexperience with this body, I ended up landing wrong and slipped on the growing pool of red liquid. The heart monitor--whose attached cords for some reason were actually long enough--was beeping wildly at this point and I found myself short of breath after having crashed down on my still-sore nose. You know, as a grown man, all of this would probably hurt quite a bit and be rather inconveniencing, but nothing to sincerely worry about. This stupid little horse body, though, apparently felt pain far, far more keenly. I choked back tears as I laid there, cursing softly. My fetlock felt like it'd been ripped open and I could swear the whole front of my face was broken. I'll spare you too many details, but suffice it to say I was not having a good morning. It's times like this when I like to take a step back and wonder how on earth my life led me here. In my experience, 'phasing out,' as it were, of these particular situations tends to do a world of good, so naturally, that was what I did. Already in my short life as a pony, I was yearning to be back as a man with a host of completely different problems. Issues like paying my rent on time, waking up early enough to get to work, resisting the urge to get the more-convenient fast food and instead cook something decent for dinner. The simple, the mundane, the routine. I'd been content with my lot in life, you know. I never once complained about my humble, all-too-average situation, at least that I could recall. Sure, I suppose it had been a bit dull, but I'd take boring over three-legged hobbling to the corner of the hospital room and crying my eyes out any day. Not that I was focusing too hard on that, mind you. Once lost in my own head, the raw pain of this body all but left entirely. Really, it was quite an effective coping mechanism. I recommend you try it sometime. Distantly, I heard hurried hoofsteps and my furry pony ears swiveled towards the door as it burst open. I snapped back to attention once I saw what was standing in the doorway, wincing as sensation duly returned. Another pony stood there, one I immediately noticed was quite a fair bit larger than me, by a margin such that I just as quickly deduced that my body must be a child. Next, I observed the nurse's cap the pony was wearing, as well as the intricate tattoo seemingly part of its flank. Then, I saw the soft curve of its muzzle, the long eyelashes, and elaborate manestyle. A female. By heaven itself, I hated females. Women and I, you see, had never exactly seen eye to eye. Despite my every attempt to be cordial, inviting, and above all, respectful, they never seemed to return the favor. I do realize I'm generalizing here, but go with me. Often, the best treatment I could expect from a girl was a glare of enmity as she slapped my offered hand away. Sometimes, I caught them talking behind my back, shooting pointy scowls as I walked by. Other times, women would genuinely try to antagonize me with a selection of methods so wide I couldn't even begin to list all of them. Suffice it to say I'd had bad experience with females. Worse still, I could never pin down the reason why they hated me so much; best I could tell, my only outstanding characteristic was that I was perfectly average in every feasible way. And any attempt at placation or defending myself was only met with vindictive retaliation the likes of which I could never have expected. It was like they had some secret code, some hidden method of judging people that I always ran afoul of no matter how hard I tried. After a while, I stopped trying to get them to like me. I'd decided long ago that avoidance--under any cost--was the best solution. And that worked quite well for me, actually. The women in my life had finally reached a consensus with me, something along the lines of 'I hate you, you hate me, let's make sure we never see each other again'. That plan was wildly successful. At least, it was until... ...well... I won't bore you with the details. The fact remained: A female was standing in the doorway to my room and I needed to get her out before she did something unsavory. It was at that moment, of course, while she was scanning my surely-pitiful figure up and down--doubtlessly calculating how vulnerable I was--that I involuntarily let out a pained whimper. Of course, her eyes immediately bulged open and she rushed in for the kill. "Stay away!" I croaked with a voice far too hoarse and high-pitched for my liking. This, of course, did absolutely nothing to dissuade the menace and in fact only increased her pace as she galloped straight toward me. Frantically glancing about, I spied the nearby curtained window and sped over, ripping apart the drapes. To my delight, it had been cracked open and I was even on the first floor of the building. To my horror, this pony foal body wasn't near strong enough to open the thing any wider. Not in time to escape the stony forelegs that coiled around my barrel. I yelled, thrashing as hard as I could, but wasn't able to stop myself from being bodily thrown back on the bed. The mare pinned me to the sheets, grunting angrily as I continued to squirm with all I had. I'm proud to say I managed to clock her pretty solidly in the face, but was more than disappointed when she didn't so much as blink and a fresh wave of pain swept across my foreleg. Ultimately, the 'fight' was over before it even began; this lady was orders of magnitude stronger than me, likely due to my weakened state and comparative smallness. The second she tired of physically holding my writhing form still and leaned to the side to prepare a syringe, I knew there was no hope of escape. Again as if in slow motion, I watched as she leaned back over me, grasping my uninjured foreleg and quickly sliding the needle in. The mare stared right into my eyes as she depressed the plunger, smugly daring me to try anything else. I thought I could even see her grinning mouth moving, though the world was growing too fuzzy for me to make out the words. I didn't give her the satisfaction of replying. I merely glared up at her, willing my expression to reflect my hatred for her kind instead of the all-consuming fear I was actually feeling. That was the last I knew before I slipped away.
Chapter Two - Ponyland Gets Really Old, Really FastSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
Chapter Three - Uncomfortable Questions Are AskedHate is strong. Anger, I've found, empowers the body, mind, and soul. When one allows fury at the unfairness of existence to fuel their every move and thought, they become able to do things never before considered possible. I've strived for rage, for ire to consume me and let me fight back against the horrors in my life. The strength one can obtain from this course of action is equally exponential and incalculable. Sadly, I know none of this from personal experience. Though I have tried desperately, I can never hold on to anger for long enough. All too quickly, I am always overcome with another emotion. Fear, I've found, weakens the spirit, will, and wits. When one is forced to live life frightened at every corner, they begin to break down as a person. Existing in a constant state of terror hurts. Your psyche frays like old rope stretched too tight for too long. Your faculties fail you one by one until you're left useless, hopeless, and unloved by any mortal being that might have--should have--taken care of you. I know this from experience and I pray you never get to do the same. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. It's natural, then, to want--need--an escape. Some way to leave, get away from it all. If one can't fight a problem directly, naturally one must then flee from it. If not physically, then mentally. Sequestering myself in my own reflections has proven quite effective over the years. But I'm sure you know that by now. Again, I do think you'd like to do the same if you tried. You strike me as the sort of person who'd enjoy something like this. Do you think that, if we tried really hard and practiced often, we could phase out together? I don't even know what that'd look like, to be honest, but I feel it could be very interesting and informative, if nothing else. Maybe you'd actually be able to talk to me for once? Ah, but now isn't the time for such things. Maybe later, once I get myself out of this mess. Look at me, slipping into present tense accidentally. Whoops. There I was, shaking like the world's least aerodynamic leaf in the arms--legs?--of Thunderlane and dreading the events to follow. I thought he might have been muttering some other things, presumably reassurances, into my ears, but I was far too distressed to care all that much. At some point or another he stood, letting me back to my hooves, and made for the door. Of course, I trailed along right behind, probably resembling a lost puppy. Not my proudest moment, but we do what we have to, yeah? Anyway, I didn't--couldn't--pay much attention to our surroundings as we walked in silence. As far as I passively observed, they were only the typical hospital fare. At least, from what I knew without being in one before. I was mainly focused on looking out for any mares, as well as losing myself in memories of being human. Between that and following the near-black stallion, I had a full plate, so to speak. I think we descended some stairs at one point and we made a bunch of turns, winding through the labyrinthine building just like Pac-Man in that old arcade game. When we ground to a halt and I came to accordingly, I recognized the room of choice as that of a well-stocked kitchen. "Let me getcha some grub, Heath. What's a hungry bro like you feeling?" I blinked, confused by Thunderlane's question, before a rumble from below caught my attention. I jumped and glanced down, not a little startled by this, and the stallion started chortling to himself. Flushing red, I realized too late that the noise was in fact my stomach and I felt absolutely starved. "Aren't you just a patient? Why would they force you to make food, too?" I asked this with as much incredulity as I could manage, even while eagerly watching the dark grey pegasus set to work. He chuckled again, though whether it was from my question or the hungry look in my oversized pony eyes I didn't know. "Those mares'd be hard-pressed to keep a stallion like me from the kitchen. And they aren't 'forcing' me to do anything." He paused in filling a glass with water from the sink long enough to glance back at me with a strange twinkle in his golden eyes. "This is my way of giving back. With how often I end up in here and how well they always take care of me, I feel like I owe 'em something, y'know? And what's better than a homecooked meal, made with love?" My muzzle formed a wry grin as I settled on the floor and wiggled my eyebrows. "Oh, I can think of a few things..." To my moderate surprise, though, Thunderlane didn't blush and chastise me like I was expecting. Instead, he merely gave a sad little smile and crouched to hold the glass of water out to me. Instinctively, I reached out with a foreleg and curled nonexistent fingers around the cup, which to my further shock stuck to my hoof instead of falling to the floor when the stallion pulled away. "You remind me of my little brother Rumble," Thunderlane said as I opted not to question it and instead guzzled the contents with all the gusto of a fish in the Sahara. I couldn't remember the last time I had tasted water this pure; despite coming straight from the tap, this was the most refreshing and clean H2O I'd had in quite a while. It seemed Ponyland had some upsides, small though they were. "He's got a dirty sense of humor, just like you. Around the same age, too, I'd guess." This piqued my interest and I peeked up at him as my ears peaked to show my attention. Heh, English sucks. Gotta love it, though. "And what age is that?" The stallion gave me an odd look over his shoulder, but eventually shrugged to himself and returned to whatever dish he was making. I was too short to see over the counter, but I doubted I would recognize it if I could, anyway. "Around nine or ten, I'd say. Maybe a year or two younger; you're pretty small." I mulled this over, chewing softly on the inside of my cheek with my new flat horse teeth. "Not twenty-six, then." Thunderlane shook his head but didn't question my words, evidently not taking them seriously. In fact, he seemed to zone out a little as he continued to work, focusing almost entirely on making food. This left the small kitchen in near-total silence, but I wasn't much bothered and in fact quite content with it. Nine years, give or take a few. When this body was born, I'd been rushing to finish my senior project in time to graduate from high school. That year had been one stress-inducing event after another, and at the time I'd thought I would never be as anxious again. Boy, was I wrong. Poor little seventeen-year-old me had no idea of the hardships to come. Sometimes I look back and yearn for those simpler times, when it feels like my only pressing worry was completing school and getting an acceptance letter from college. I yearn, that is, until I remember returning late at night to a 'home' that... ...well... I won't bore you with the details. Something tells me you don't have need of them, anyway. I feel a sort of kinship with you, despite your silence. I think, perhaps, that you've been through some rough stuff, just like me. Maybe that's why we understand each other so well, despite the one-way communication. I want to thank you for letting me narrate what's happening like this. It really helps me process everything when I have that degree of separation, especially when I use past tense. "There you go, bro. Go ahead and eat up while I make more for the staff." All too suddenly, a wooden bowl filled with steaming, fragrant stew was placed on the floor in front of me. My eyes ballooned to the size of literal dinnerplates when I registered the scent. I know not where the unholy frenzy I devolved into came from, but the abominations I proceeded to enact upon that poor bowl were as unmentionable as they were undeserved. The very instant I smelled Thunderlane's cooking, some demon of ravenous destruction possessed my body and by the time I regained control, it was far too late to save any remnants of dignity. I found myself licking greedily at what droplets of stew had escaped the purge and gotten stuck in my fur. I ceased this action as soon as I could, but the damage had already been done. The bowl, having clattered to the floor, came to a stop and practically shone for how cleanly it was polished. The stallion could only openly stare at me with both eyebrows raised as I smiled sheepishly up at him. "You...uh...cook really well." Having lived off microwavable dinners and fast food for a good portion of my life, I'm sure you can understand why I was so caught by surprise. Moreover, while this new body apparently felt pain stronger than before, the same could evidently be said about taste. Pony food tasted incredible and for just a few moments, I'll admit, I was reconsidering my plan to escape. Thunderlane didn't reply. Instead, he crept forward and placed another bowl of stew in front of me. I eyed it with an expression much like that of a lioness stalking an antelope, but waited for his nod before partaking. Only then did I realize I was quivering in place and my gaze was flickering between the food and the stallion's face as if anticipating retaliation. So all-consuming (heh) was the stew, though, that I ended up not paying this very much attention. With only slightly less gusto than before, I dug in. Again, my hooves proved strangely effective at holding things as they lifted the bowl to my muzzle and idly I wondered what else they could accomplish. "You good, bro?" Thunderlane asked as he stirred something on the counter with a bandaged wing and looked at me with an expression halfway between 'worried parent' and 'disturbed spectator.' I waved him off, equally transfixed on both enjoying the stew and holding back tears. "Yeah. Fine," I muttered once finished. I declined a third bowl, much to the stallion's confusion. Better not to take risks, right? The kitchen was once more drenched in silence as I waited for him to be done. I curled up on the floor, still weakly shivering while he resumed, obviously quite perturbed by my actions. Whatever. It wasn't like I could change what he did. Best to just let it all wash over me. I startled at a hoof on my withers and the stallion flinched backwards. Only after I expectantly stared up at him for several moments did he cough awkwardly and give me the sort of look a nervous teenager might give a ticking pipe bomb. "It's...uh...time to go, Heath. I'm all done with the stew, and an orderly just came in to say they're ready for you." Really? I was honestly surprised I'd missed all of that, my phasing out notwithstanding. You'd have thought a whole other pony entering would draw my attention, but I suppose that's just how out of it I was. Even so, a question bubbled to the surface of my mind and I could feel my face scrunch as I asked it: "Who?" A deeply-unpleasant feeling was brewing within me and I didn't like it one bit. It felt like when I'd utterly flunked a test and just gotten the grade or turned in a badly-written paper that I knew wouldn't perform well. I was about to receive an undesirable answer to a question I hadn't even wanted to ask. "What do you mean?" Thunderlane's golden eyes flittered about every which way and he rubbed one foreleg with another, so I guessed he knew the answer to his own inquiry. This stallion was utterly befuddling me; he'd started out so confidant and reassuring, but now he seemed anxious and evasive. Was he somehow thrown off by my actions? I probably should've known better than to expect correction--he wasn't a female, after all, and thus wouldn't punish me for acting out of turn. "Who's ready for me?" He grimaced, strode towards the door, and replied: "The social worker. Now come on, Heath. Let's get you to her." Her. Reluctantly, I followed behind him. Contrary to before, I kept my distance from Thunderlane as we traveled through the sterile halls. Through his more-than-occasional glances back to me and utter silence, I gathered he'd become lost as to how to treat me; it seemed my antics had been alienating rather than endearing like I'd hoped. In efforts to avoid further confusion on his part I kept myself away, even when various nurses passed by and every instinct screamed at me to duck between his legs. I needed to gain every ally I could get in this strange place and to that effect I attempted to make conversation. "So, she sure came quickly, huh?" Unfortunately, I couldn't help but let my anxieties manifest as the subject of my opener. Ah, well, I'd just have to kill two birds with one stone; my many burning questions and making small talk! Look how efficient! "Yup. They prioritize colts quite heavily. Same-day response is just par for the course." Thunderlane's reply was curt and to the point. He didn't so much as look back at me as he spoke, but that might very well have been because we were approaching our destination: a nondescript pale door among many in a hallway just as forgettable. I hesitated outside when the other pegasus walked in, peering after him at the room beyond: A simple lounge, from what I could tell, complete with a few garish couches, abstract paintings, a wooden coffee table-- And two mares waiting patiently within. I dragged myself inside, a prisoner on death row marching to the courtyard where I'd serve my final sentence. The executioners eyed me as I entered. I didn't know the unicorn holding a clipboard in her hooves, but I did recognize Doctor Redheart seated on a recliner to the left. "Why're you here?" She blinked, obviously puzzled by my question, but was ready with an answer soon after. "It's F.P.S. protocol. No one mare can be alone with stallions at any given time. I...volunteered." There was something odd on her face at the end there, but otherwise it was completely emotionless. The point was, I couldn't see any traces of dishonesty, so my attention then returned to Thunderlane. Poor sop. He looked like he couldn't want to be there any less and kept eyeing the door. The unicorn had put on what I would guess was a pleading expression as she gestured for him to sit. Finally and with great trepidation, he did so and I followed suit after stalking a few feet closer. "Hello, Heath," began the clipboard-clutching mare. "How are you today?" I grunted and huddled closer to both myself and Thunderlane, expecting a consoling wing to settle itself around my shoulders. Was it just me, or did the stallion scoot away from my shivering body? "Fine," was my curt reply. I strove to keep all emotion from my visage and become as closed-off as possible. I couldn't let either mare have anything to work with. The moment I gave something away, they would win and I'd suffer that much more pain in the future. I don't expect you to follow along with my logic here. Something tells me you don't have the same experiences with females as me. I'm glad for that--really, I am. Somehow, you understand me anyway and that's a wonderful thing. "Do you know where you live, Heath?" I stifled a giggle. Heck yeah, I knew where I lived. This was one thing I could tell her that wouldn't aid her machinations in the slightest; wherever Ponyland was, I could assume with reasonable accuracy that Earth was not anywhere nearby. "Crestview Apartments, Manhattan, New York, U.S. of A. Planet Earth, third rock from the sun," I rattled off with a cheeky grin. The worker pretended to write stuff down, but I was onto her. That must've sounded like complete nonsense and there was no way any of it helped her. "Which room?" She asked. Mine wasn't the only confused look; both Thunderlane and Doctor Redheart joined me in staring at the unicorn as though she'd sprouted a second head. So off-put by this was I that I forgot to hide my reaction and left myself vulnerable. "Uh...five-oh-nine, fifth floor." Again, she proceeded to write something down and I spent the scant seconds I was allotted trying to recompose my poker face. I was met with mixed results, my efforts cut off with another question: "Do you know where you are?" Not in Kansas anymore, Toto. I didn't bother to voice the joke, though; something told me it wouldn't exactly be appreciated. At least you get it, so my wit doesn't go completely to waste. I opened my mouth to spew out something clever and spiteful, perhaps to the effect of: 'no ma'am, no clue other than some pony hospital with pervert nurses.' Yeah, that'd be good. Maybe let her know I'm onto her, too, and she can't fool me with the weird questions and fake scribbling. "Ponyville, Equestria. Second-largest country on planet Equus." ...what. Do you know where that came from? No, don't look at me like that. I'm genuinely asking because I have no idea. Actually, now I'm freaking out because that information came from nowhere and that means I don't know where it came from and if that's true then how much else can I just randomly come up with and wait, what if that means I've actually just come up with everything and nothing matters any more so I might as well just-- No, you're right. I should calm down and think about this. I phased out while we were walking to and from the kitchen, so I could have easily overheard it then. Or maybe this pony body just comes with some knowledge built-in about my whereabouts? I honestly don't know which explanation is more likely, but the fact that they exist should be enough for now. "...should talk about fostering. Thunderlane, he seems to like you. Would you and your herd be willing to take Heath in?" My gaze shoots straight to the stallion as I tune back in. He looks deeply uncomfortable and hesitates to answer. It seems like he's purposefully avoiding my hope-filled eyes. He coughs, bows his head a little and... ...he rejected me. Something hurt, deep inside. I won't be so cliche as to say my heart broke, but it stung to have my only ally turn on me like that. Worse, I didn't understand why and none of his cited reasons made any sense. Something about 'too much responsibility' and 'he wouldn't want to mess up' and 'too young for foals yet anyhow.' All bullcrap. Didn't he know that messing up would be leaving me behind? And I wasn't a foal; we'd only be the equivalent of roommates while I stayed. Sure, the system wouldn't see it that way but he'd figure out I was an adult like him and then he wouldn't have to worry about the responsibility! I could take care of myself! Heaven knows I've had to! Ah, but I was showing too much emotion. Growing too attached. It wouldn't matter in the end; I would get out of here and back to my average life soon enough. Perhaps it was better that Thunderlane stayed distant and saved himself the heartache of watching me leave. I should have done the same. Instead I'm a blubbering mess as he bolts out the door. Ugh, present tense again. Sorry about that. "We can foster Heath." I startle at the sound of Redheart's voice and realize-- Wait, no. Give me a second. ... Abruptly, I startled at the sound of Redheart's voice and realized she'd come a few steps closer, ducking low to be about eye level with me as she held out a hoof. I offered the doctor my finest stink eye, but couldn't make myself shuffle back away from her. It was like all the energy in me had decided to take a trip to the Bahamas, leaving my pony body to lie there in a pathetic puddle of tears. Jeez, that's just sad. Despite my best efforts, I was reduced to tears by the slightest betrayal. Some man I am. Can't even defend that. Anyway, it didn't much matter what expression I gave the earth pony; she wasn't looking at me in the first place and instead appeared to be in a staring contest with the social worker. "My herd and I, that is. We already have two foals to our name. And he's at least somewhat familiar with me." I just realized I said 'earth pony.' Where'd I get that phrase? More built-in horse knowledge? Or did I simply eavesdrop without knowing? "That sounds like the next best option. Would your husband be okay with it?" What else have I been saying? I'm thinking back to all my descriptions and finding a worrying amount of suspicious knowledge. Did I know the term 'withers' before? What about 'pegasus?' I feel like that one's pretty mainstream so maybe it's passable, but there must be more that I'm forgetting. "I'll ask once I head home tonight, but I doubt he'll have any issues. Same with the other mares." That seemed to be the end of it, judging by how both ponies stood and headed for the door. I took a few steps after, but it wasn't long before rebellion blossomed and I planted my hooves in the carpet. Clearly, I'd done enough blind following and I needed to be more proactive. I wouldn't let these mares push me around everywhere, no matter how big, strong and scary they were. Doctor Redheart opened the door and glanced back at me, quirking a brow at my disobedience. A question blazed to the forefront of my mind, one fused with enough impudence that I couldn't help but voice it: "What if I don't want to be fostered?" Okay, that came out far more petulant than I'd intended, but it still felt good to fight back. The social worker who still hadn't bothered to share her name paused, tapping her muzzle with a hoof. When she responded, her sugary 'talking to a kid' voice hid the threat about as effectively as a whale taking cover behind a single strand of kelp. "Well, we'd have to track down any living family you have and hoof you over. From what you've told us about your herd, something tells me you wouldn't like that very much." I blinked, contemplating, while Redheart shot the unicorn an incredulous expression. She seemed dead serious and the message couldn't be more overt: Defy us, and we'll return you to suffering. "Can't you just leave me alone? I can take care of myself." She actually burst out in giggles at that, waving dismissively at my unamused visage. "Oh, definitely not. A foal, making it by themselves in the big world? What's more, a colt? I'd be fired in minutes! Burned at the stake!" The worker gave one last chuckle before making one last comment, "you're a riot, kiddo," and striding out the door without so much as looking back. Both Redheart and I stood there, one in a shocked stupor and the other in silent consideration. Alright, so it looked like rebelling wouldn't get me very far. It was about this point when I realized I didn't exactly have a plan of action. Granted, I hadn't done much, but that was exactly the problem. Blindly following ponies everywhere like a sheep wouldn't lead to my escape--and yes, I did need to escape. Sticking around for much longer would only lead to pain, the nurse had shown me that. The question, then, was how to get out. I glanced over at my tiny chartreuse wings. Anyone with a lick of sense could tell they'd never support my weight--those primaries were five inches long, max--but maybe, if magic really was real here, they could help me out. I tried clenching various muscles on my back, but they remained stubbornly clamped to my barrel for now. Fruitlessly, I bit my lip and continued, straining with the effort. Gosh, flying would be worth everything. Can you imagine? Just soaring high above the earth without a care in the world, every conceivable problem far, far below, unable to reach you. "Well, Heath, it's time to get back to your room." To her credit, the doctor seemed genuinely remorseful about it, so I didn't hold it against her all too much. Her. I had to be more wary. I couldn't trust Redheart, no matter what she did or how safe she seemed. Any minute now she'd turn on me, pin me to the wall and take what I knew she wanted. I opted not to reply and simply trailed behind her when she turned to go, disgusted by my obedience. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about that. I have no idea why she acted that way." I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I practically galloped to keep up with the doctor. Seeing this, she thankfully slowed her pace, but that only ensured my scornful glare into her oversized icy blue orbs reached full effect. "I do: She's a female." That was answer enough, but Redheart still seemed confused as she led the way through the maze-like hallways. I cleared my throat and oh-so-matter-of-factly finished. "They love to scare people and make them suffer. You're all the same." She blinked and abruptly turned a corner, to which I struggled to catch up. "I don't love making people suffer. I'm a doctor. Isn't that kind of the opposite?" I tensed and froze when we passed a nurse, but thankfully Redheart waited for me and even gestured for the other mare to hurry up when she hesitated. I was silent for a while, thinking the doctor's words over, but eventually came to a conclusion: "No. It's probably just a cover so you can hurt even more people. You probably have to harm even more to make up for the ones you heal every day." Somehow, I meant every word despite the frankly-illogical nature of the argument. She saw this and fell silent, unable to come up with a good response. Probably because there wasn't one. I was tired, scared, and indescribably wary of what the next day would bring. My only consolation was the hope that Redheart's husband would take pity on me and help me get out of here. Let's cross our fingers, yeah?
Chapter Four - Potential Answers Are WithheldDoctor Redheart stared evenly at the closed door. Behind it, she knew, was a troubled colt of unclear origin that desperately needed her help--more so than males usually did. It hadn't been long since she dropped Heath off at the room within; minutes at most, during which she'd stood and stared quite uncharacteristically. Redheart was a mare of action, but the fatigue that'd overtaken her didn't seem much concerned with such personality traits. Even now, her head drooped to the floor as she absently recalled that her shift had been over two hours ago. The time had long passed since she was meant to be heading home, but there were some things the mare couldn't walk away from. ...and that was probably why she was left standing there in the hallway. There was great hesitation felt in regards to leaving Heath unsupervised; the one time that'd happened, the colt had managed to seriously injure himself and there was no telling if he would again. Redheart hoped he had the sense to take it easy, but considering his age and gender, predicting Heath's actions was all but impossible. What was more, if their suspicions were correct... The doctor had conducted surgeries, amputated limbs, and had ample experience with needles. Nothing much phased her anymore. But she still found herself shuddering at the thought. Redheart struggled to back away from the door and begin her trip home. It felt like her mind had split along several different desires and, much to her chagrin, no clear course of action emerged. She ended up pulling an orderly aside when she passed the mare in the hallway, leaning close to mutter into her perked ears. "Make sure the new colt is under surveillance; he may hurt himself if left alone." The orderly nodded, but Redheart noticed her incredulous expression even through her fatigue. "Of course, doctor," the mare said in a tone that was less 'I will obey your order' and more 'obviously, you weirdo. Why would we do anything else?' Redheart shrugged it off and carried on. Next on her spontaneous to-do list was to visit the F.P.S. representative, Violet Mist. The social worker's behavior had been unacceptable and she intended to find out why. The paperwork and general bureaucracy required for fostering a colt would surely be immense, so the doctor figured her target wouldn't have left the building yet. Her hooves dragged on the polished, sterile floor and she caught herself stumbling far too often on her way back to the meeting room. Sighing, the earth pony leaned against the doorframe of her destination, lifting a hoof to rub at her bleary eyes as she tuned in. Doctor Redheart was familiar with Ponyville General. Had spent over thirty years of her life almost exclusively within its walls. The phrase 'knew it like the back of her hoof' fell entirely short of describing her grasp on the building. Countless times had she dashed through the halls, letting her knowledge of the structure guide her in the midst of an emergency. As Head Physician, her duties all but required complete and total attunement. As any long-established building in Equestria, the hospital had a sort of life to it. Not just the poetic kind, used to describe bustling nurses and busy ponies. Magic had long suffused its walls and, being an earth pony, Redheart had special abilities with living things. Again, the mare set off, turning down a different hallway as she followed the trail Violet Mist had left. It wound around the second floor a ways before finally seeming to find a staircase. The doctor stumbled down, scarcely managing a cordial nod to those she passed and regretting her choice not to have that seventh cup of coffee. Soon enough, the blazing trail ended in a stereotypical office room, one set aside for various paperwork ahead of time and kept well-stocked with supplies. There the social worker sat, busily filling out several forms at once with pens held in her icy blue aura. The swivel chair she sat on squeaked as she shifted, but the unicorn never glanced behind her at the door, even when Redheart made her noisy entrance. "Alright, what the buck was that about?" The doctor huffed, coming to a full stop as she squinted at the back of a pale purple mane. Violet Mist paused her writing, but stayed facing away and only turned her head a fraction. "I'd have thought you'd be heading home already. Is there not another doctor ready to take her turn at the helm?" Redheart scowled, not appreciating the reminder, and stomped closer. "Don't play games with me. I came personally to find the reason you threatened a foal under your care. A colt, no less." The earth pony straightened, feeling the heavy grasp of fatigue loosen under righteous fury. "If you don't give it, there will be Tartarus to pay." Violet's ears perked up and she finally spun her chair around to eye the doctor's imposing form up and down. The social worker's eyes bulged when she saw just how dead serious Redheart was, as well as the locked door behind them she'd softly closed seconds prior. Instantly, Violet raised her hooves in a placating gesture, set the papers she was levitating down on the desk, and deactivated her horn. "Please calm yourself, ma'am. I was only worried for your health. You seemed quite exhausted." The doctor's sole response was to raise an unimpressed eyebrow, her face carved from stone. The unicorn sighed, gazing up at it with a rueful expression. "Alright, you'll get your answers. Must you receive them immediately, though? Can't this wait until you've rested up?" Redheart contemplated the point, but not for very long. "I have been entrusted with the care of dozens of males. I don't take threats to them lightly." She lowered her head until it was level with Violet's, all but staring into her soul. "You will tell me why you, a mare I contacted for help, saw fit to traumatize a colt under my care even further than he evidently is already. If you refuse, I will ensure you never get the chance to do so again." The social worker gulped audibly, again gesturing with her hooves while trying and failing to scoot her chair away. "Fine, fine! Would you at least take a seat?" But Redheart refused and simply stood there, less to make a point and more because she feared sleep would claim her the instant she relaxed in any way. The representative, seeing this, sighed once more and began: "Heath is incredibly fearful of mares. Where this originates from, whether events in his past or natural coltish wariness, we'll have to investigate later. One thing was and still is clear to me," she pointed at the doctor with a hoof, nearly striking her chest for how close they were. "You, a mare, are going to foster him. Heath may be starting to trust you, but he's still unsure if you're really different." The foreleg waved dismissively in the air as Redheart raised both brows and Violet finished. "I had to reinforce how much you stood out by acting exactly how he'd expect. Simple, really. I push him away from me and, consequently, make your job easier for you." That seemed to be the end of the social worker's justification, judging by her satisfied smile and abrupt silence. The doctor slumped, stumped by the unexpected nature of the answer, and sat in contemplative stillness for many moments. "And you think that making him believe he'll ever be returned to potential abusers as punishment is somehow the best way?" Incredulity all but extinguished the raging fire of her wrath and now the earth pony could only stare at Violet, feeling fatigue return all too fast. The unicorn pursed her lips, but that sly smile soon returned and her horn relit to levitate the documents once more. "Did he or did he not follow you back to his room of his own volition?" Redheart opened her muzzle to interject, but found herself at a loss for words. "That's right. You may not believe in my methods, but you can't deny their effectiveness." Violet swiveled back to face her desk, raising the pens in her aura in preparation to resume her task. "Now if you'll excuse me, doctor, I have some paperwork to do. And, if I'm not mistaken, you have a herd to get home to." The earth pony wanted to argue, to protest this ethically-shallow manipulation with the well-tested moral compass she possessed. Still, the weight that descended down upon her once the anger left had no tolerance for such things. Thoughts of her waiting husband, herdsisters, and fillies filled her mind, bidding her turn to unlock and open the door. "This conversation isn't over," she managed to mutter through slurred speech, but the social worker made no acknowledgement. So, Doctor Redheart traveled on. It was a simple matter to clock out for the night; decades of habit made the process effortless and anypony that took one look at her face saw that she desperately needed to go home. The system she'd established was a remnant of her time in nursing; Ponyville General, as a relatively large hospital, had enough doctors under its employ to support working shifts much like any other faculty member. To be sure, there were occasional hiccups--tonight being one of them--but it had proven to be a largely effective system regardless. Crisp September air caressed Redheart's body upon her exit and she took a few seconds to stand there, breathing it in. Seconds became minutes and she jolted suddenly, swaying on legs that had nearly collapsed in the throes of sleep. The mare shook herself and let out a nicker of disapproval, settling into a light trot. Ponyville was a small farming town, so any form of nightlife was all but nonexistent. Dark windows and closed doors were everywhere she looked and the near-silent streets compared to a bustling hospital felt almost like a slap to the face. The doctor's matted pink mane hung low over her eyes, obscuring her view of the night sky above. Normally she'd brush it aside and ensure she looked professional at all times, but the energy simply wasn't there. Many crickets and the odd rustle echoed out from around her. Redheart's ears twitched minutely as they took in the sounds, swiveling in place while she worked to keep her head up. She slowed when another noise made itself known, eyeing her immediate surroundings with a raised brow. "Hello?" Redheart asked before movement drew her gaze. A dark, vaguely-equine figure stood a ways away, shuffling toward her at a snail's pace. The earth pony squinted, craning her neck to peer into the dim moonlight, and approached. It had its head lowered, whatever it was, and its body language said it had the same lack of energy as her. With further proximity, she was able to make out a grey-blue coat and a spiky, navy mane. Finally, two pairs of eighth notes on the pony's flank had Redheart's eyes widening in recognition. "Noteworthy!" Earlier in the day the doctor would have galloped, but instead she broke into a lurching half-canter as her legs nearly gave out. "What are you doing out so..." She paused right in front of the stallion, taking in his closed eyes and the string of drool hanging from his muzzle. "Of course. Sleepwalking again." Noteworthy continued to stumble right on by and she watched, blinking, before shaking her head and raising a hoof. Ever-so-gently, Redheart made contact with the stallion's shoulder and shook it. Despite her best efforts, he immediately lost any sense of balance and keeled to the side, but she caught him with a foreleg and eased him upright. Doing so was effortless--even as an earth pony, Noteworthy was a stallion and thus lighter than air--but that still left him deep in Princess Luna's realm of dreams. "Alright, plan B." The mare muttered, angling and guiding both herself and her charge until he walked face first into her chest tuft. The slumbering stallion stopped short, inhaling the scent for several moments before he grunted and his eyes finally opened. Noteworthy's golden irises flicked every which way, clouded by a confused haze, until they settled on Redheart's face and suddenly cleared. "Doctor?" He inquired in a wispy tenor, muffled somewhat by volumes of white fur. The mare nodded, steadying him with her hooves before responding. "Yes, Noteworthy. It's me. Are you feeling alright?" Her brows invisibly creased together as she looked down at him, but the rest of her expression became stoic and strong. The stallion blinked, seemingly taking time to ponder his situation, but eventually nodded back. "Yeah. I'm just peachy. Was I..." He glanced around again, actually taking in the darkened street and high moon before returning his gaze to her with rueful eyes. "...again?" Redheart didn't need to nod; her shift in expression was all it took for the stallion to sigh and step back. She let him do so, but still kept a wary eye out lest he collapse again. "Haven't you been taking the pills I prescribed?" Her brow raised at Noteworthy's sheepish expression and ventured further up her forehead when he opened his muzzle, failed to find words, then closed it and shook his head. "Is there a reason why?" Redheart did her best to keep any exasperation out of her voice, but the stallion still flinched away from the question. "I...don't like the way they make me feel." Noteworthy stuck his tongue out and grimaced as though in memory. "Or how they taste." The doctor suppressed both a yawn and a sigh, lowering her head to be level with his. "I'm very sorry about that, Noteworthy. But you must take them. Wandering out here in the middle of the night is incredibly dangerous. You know this." He scuffed his hoof against the ground and seemed properly ashamed, so the mare touched hers to his withers--lightly, of course, so as not to bruise him. "Are your mares not helping you? They must be worried sick--" unbidden thoughts of Heath flooded Redheart's mind and she stopped short, all but glaring at the stallion with sudden intensity. "They are treating you well, right? Because if something is happening at home then so help me--" "--No! I mean--yes! We--we're all good. My herd is wonderful!" Noteworthy seemed genuine enough, but the doctor stayed right in his face for several moments more, searching for any sign of anything. He smiled sincerely, hesitating a little before adding: "I asked them not to make me take it. Made a huge fuss about it, too. Eventually, I convinced them that letting me have my way was better than listening to my whining all night." The stallion returned her gesture, stumbling as he lifted his foreleg and all but punching her shoulder in search of balance. The mare didn't so much as blink from the impact, it being slightly stronger than a soft breeze. "My mares are good. We love each other. There's nothing going on. I promise." Finally convinced, Redheart stepped back, gently setting the stallion's foreleg on the ground as she forced herself to relax. "Woe to the mare that dares disobey her stallion's whimsy. I'm sorry for assuming things about your herd, Noteworthy. I hope you'll forgive me. I just had to be sure." Noteworthy smiled softly, wiping the tears out of his eyes as he edged closer. "Let's get you back to them, eh? I'll walk you home." Her every tired cell resisted such a proposition, knowing he lived quite far from her own abode, but seeing a stallion safely home took priority over anything else. He definitely appreciated the offer, if his glancing around at the dim street and deep sigh of relief was any indication. "Thanks, doc. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for the trouble." Redheart gave a wordless nod in reply and off they went. She remained vigilant throughout the journey, watching intently for dips in the paths or any stray stones that might be a tripping hazard for her charge. Several times, Noteworthy nearly strode right into several of such things, but luckily she was there with a swift nudge to guide him around them. A tumble would have been catastrophic and Redheart simply didn't have the magic left to treat another male's injuries. Forlornly, the doctor watched her own house pass by as they walked at the stallion's pace. It was the only building with lights on in sight, showing at least some of her herd was waiting for her return. She knew her husband likely wouldn't be sleeping with her not home; he had a bit of an anxious streak, despite his best efforts to hide it. A picture came to mind of him sitting just behind the doorway, sandwiched by her herdsisters as they tried futile comforts, ears perked forwards in search of hoofsteps from outside... A rush of guilt--powerful enough to be felt past the fatigue--made her shake away such thoughts and focus on the task at hoof. And soon enough, the house passed on by. "Almost there," muttered Noteworthy. His escort barely stifled her sigh of relief in time, but managed to keep her projection of strength and emotionlessness uninterrupted. Redheart walked right across several loose and wobbly cobblestones, but turned to offer a supporting hoof before letting her companion do the same. He took it, grinning in gratitude, and all but collapsed onto her raised foreleg when his knees buckled. With no more effort than if she'd done it without the weight of his body, the doctor lifted her leg a few inches higher and took several steps forward on the remaining three. Noteworthy was again set gently on the ground and he chuckled to himself as she took the lead. "You mares, heh..." He shook his head, breaking into a canter to catch up. "Sometimes I forget just how...imbalanced...things are." Redheart allowed herself another raised brow, glancing over at him as they rounded the final bend. "That's why it's so dangerous for you to be unaccompanied, Noteworthy. What if you'd fallen on a rock while sleepwalking? Stepped on a loose stone? Or what if somepony tried to take advantage of you in the dead of night?" The stallion had been nodding along until her last statement, upon hearing which he cocked an eyebrow of his own and incredulously glanced back at her. "In Ponyville, doc? I doubt anypony who dared try would get away for long." The confidence he said this with was immense, but Redheart found she still couldn't believe them fully. Perhaps because thoughts of Heath still hadn't left her mind. "You'd be surprised." Noteworthy clearly wasn't convinced, but her next statement cut any retort short: "Looks like we're here." A modest home greeted them, cozy and undeniably Ponyville in appearance. Furnishing and various decorations suggested it being a stallion's residence, but the true indication was the herd emblem inscribed on the door. Three pairs of eighth notes, a golden lyre, three wrapped candies and a pink treble clef all entwined together in a stylized fashion. It was unmistakably the sign of the town's most musical herd. Ponyville law mandated that every full herd have their emblem emblazoned on their home's doors. It was just one of the many measures that ensured any lost males were safely returned, no matter the cost. "Thank you again, doctor. I really owe you one." Noteworthy ascended the steps and reached for the handle, but paused and gave a questioning look when the doctor followed. "I'd like to speak with one of your mares." Redheart's muzzle formed a reassuring smile, but it failed to mask the steel in her icy blue eyes. "This can't continue." He winced in reaction, offering a tentative grin. "It won't, I promise. Please don't yell at my wives about it. Really, it's my fault." When she didn't move, he sighed and placed a hoof on her chest, into which it sank several inches thanks to the fur. "I'll tell them to make me take the pills myself. After tonight, I'm too guilt-tripped to do anything else. You have your own herd to get back to, right? I'm sure they're waiting." Noteworthy was insistent but appeared sincere, and that meant she was out of options. Barging into a herd's home uninvited in the middle of the night wasn't something civilized mares did outside of an emergency. Since the stallion had every intention to take care of the problem himself, her further interference wasn't needed. Upon realizing this--and reflecting on his words--Redheart let out a deep sigh. "You're right. But please do as you say. I'll be following up on this later." Noteworthy nodded and gave another smile, opening the door and taking a few steps inside as the interaction concluded. "As you should. I'll see you then, doc." With an answering nod, the door closed. Her remaining tasks dwindled to one. Doctor Redheart was free to return home. Any joy that might have arisen from this development was buried deep. The mare's hooves dragged instead of skipped as she turned back the way she'd come. A stiff breeze blew her pink mane back, letting her gaze up at the September night sky. A few constellations caught her attention and her eyes traced the elegant forms of Aeo, Faren, and Pseudocles, slightly different compared to last night thanks to Princess Luna's experimentation. Ramdar and the Four Tribes were hidden behind cloud cover, but Redheart had never been too interested in those ones anyway. Really, she was only focusing on constellations to avoid collapse into slumber. Belatedly, the earth pony's home came into view for the last time that night. She picked up the pace as she approached, breaking into a trot, then a canter, then a near gallop until finally, finally, her hooves crossed the porch and landed on the front handle. Redheart didn't give herself any time to contemplate the emblem on the door as it all but flew open. She was too focused on the relieved and delighted expression on the masculine face of the pony inside. "I'm home," she breathlessly announced. Immediately, the beige forelegs of her husband ensnared themselves around her neck and she found herself enveloped in a passionate kiss. Closing her eyes to enjoy it to the fullest, she felt herself tipping to the side, unable to remain upright, but thankfully a presence on Redheart's left buoyed her up in time. She was the first to break away, panting softly as she gazed into her lover's royal blue eyes and returning the heartfelt nuzzle that followed. "I missed you..." He murmured, somehow expressing hours of worry in those three short words. Redheart kissed him again, lightly, on the nose, and expressed her apology by touching their foreheads together. "I know, Whoovsie. I missed you too." The stoic mask she'd been wearing with Noteworthy melted away entirely in the presence of her herd. Redheart's husband Time Turner was able to take full stock of her fatigue, as could her herdsisters. She'd never hide from her family. Not like that. "Rough day at the office?" Minuette asked from beside her, grunting softly as she shifted under the white mare's weight. As a female earth pony it wasn't exactly dismissible and the unicorn visibly struggled before resorting to levitation. Redheart felt herself lifted off her weary hooves in her herdsister's yellow aura, still entangled in their affectionate husband's forelegs. Time Turner had taken to burying his snout in her neck and breathing in the scent, letting its calming narcotic effect take root of his mind. Redheart didn't bother to open her eyes, knowing she and her husband were being carted upstairs to the master bedroom and, from the two sets of hoofbeats echoing behind, her herdsisters were coming too. The thought of being put to bed like a disobedient filly despite being Alpha Mare was hardly amusing, but she found she was too tired to care. "Like you wouldn't believe," was the earth pony's response. The sound of light switches flicking off, interspersed with the swirling sound of the magical aura both she and Time Turner were encased in, reached her drooping ears. Then, another voice. "It must've been something really bad," said Ditzy. "You're not usually this tired. What happened?" Her tone was inquisitive, but also not a little accusatory. The undertone of 'it better excuse you making our stallion worry for three hours' was very much present. Redheart sighed and started drawing circles on her husband's back with a hoof--gently, of course, so as not to bruise him. "There's a...colt," she began, pausing to peck her lover's mane when he shivered under her ministrations. "His name is Heath. Flitter and Cloudchaser brought him in, said they found him on the edge of Ponyville. He has...scars...consistent with--" Redheart clenched her closed eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat and focusing on her breath for several moments. The creak of a door's hinge, then she was settled on a plush surface she recognized as their nest. One massive, circular mattress covered in sheets, blankets, and pillows, modelled after that of a bird. Comfy and practical, much to the satisfaction of every party involved. "We stitched him up and put Heath in the youth ward, but he woke sooner than expected. Managed to hurt himself far too badly not to be concerning. Tore open his leg and broke his muzzle in three places." Gasps from all three other herdmembers finally had the white earth pony opening her eyes. Ditzy looked horrified, so much so that her lazy eye had straightened while both pupils shrunk. Minuette's expression was grim, from what she could see in what scant light came through the window. Poor Time Turner clutched at her neck and pulled himself yet closer against her, still shivering. Tired, worried, and scared: Those were the emotions that tended to made her husband cuddly, and right now, the trifecta was complete. "He's okay now. I healed him up and saved his life. It took a lot out of me, especially regenerating the lost blood, and that's why I'm so tired. But listen," Redheart's tone grew urgent and the others leaned in. "Heath needs a new home. His previous herd is..." She paused, seething, but continued: "...unfit to raise a colt, that much is clear. Since he and I'd had some experience together, I offered us as a foster home. I know it's a lot to take in, but even though he's very troubled I hope--" Ditzy placed a hoof over the earth pony's muzzle, cutting her off from rambling any more before she offered a sincere smile. "Of course, Red. I think I speak for all of us when I say we don't have a problem with that. I'm sure Dinky and Amethyst will be thrilled to have a brother!" Vehement nods accompanied this notion and Redheart found herself relaxing as the stress of the day finally left. "Thank you. I really appreciate it." Minuette lit her horn in a yellow aura, levitating the various blankets and bodies around until everypony was comfortably situated. "And on that note, I think we should sleep. Let's worry about all of it tomorrow." Again, vehement nods accompanied this sentiment, from Redheart most of all. The day had been long, exhausting, and rife with confusion. But she knew that, with her herd behind her, she could take on anything. Finally, belatedly, gladly, Doctor Redheart dozed off.
Chapter Five - Freaky Flip-Flop Family FosteringBeds are a most ponderous creation. I have to wonder at what point the current model was decided upon. Sure, there are slight variations in style and appearance, but, at least in my experience, differences between designs are marginal at best. Four legs, a headboard, ample room on the high-quality mattress... ...alright, you caught me. I've never once slept on a good mattress. But hey, a guy can dream, right? Pun intended, by the way, because despite the usual poor quality of my sleep, I do dream quite often. Mostly about the mundane things in life, like going to school, taking walks through the town, and immersing myself in stories. I don't really have nightmares--or, maybe it's just that I don't consider them that scary anymore. After long enough, you kind of just get used to things, y'know? Beds. I have had ample experience with beds, if not high-quality ones. They don't frighten me much anymore, since I realized a while ago that it wasn't the mattress' fault what happened atop it. The same is true for all sorts of creations. Things can hardly be held accountable for what they're forced to do, right? And maybe that even applies to people. Desperation and prevailing authority can make anyone crumble, but it's not their fault, right? Heh. If only it was that simple. I'm lying atop a bed right now. It's the one in my hospital room. Kinda stiff and too high off the ground for my tastes, but the soft linens and fluffy pillows are quite pleasant. I'd rate it a solid eight out of ten. I'm really tired, so it probably feels nicer than it is. That's why I'm not thinking in past tense, by the way. That takes concentration and energy that I don't seem to have after recent happenings. ...what? Don't look at me like that! You want me to go to sleep, don't you? That's utterly ludicrous. I don't think I've ever heard anything that makes less sense in my entire life. You do realize where I'm at, right? A weird horse hospital that's run exclusively by females? I can't think of any places that would be less safe to lose consciousness in. Heck, the last time I fell asleep in here--unwillingly, mind you--I woke up to a psycho nurse making every effort to scare my newfound chartreuse coat off. No, what I need to do is find a way out. Yeah, as if that's going to happen. I'm stuck in a brand new quadrupedal body that's only half-operational, one too weak to even open the window, let alone run away at any serviceable clip. I'd make it maybe a mile before collapsing, especially with how tired I am. The hallways are even less of an option; given how many nurses and orderlies we passed on the way here, sneaking by simply will not work. Worse still, they're watching me. I can see a blocky black device attached to the ceiling's corner, occasionally blinking a small red light. I don't know whether it's mostly magic or they've just created different technologies out of order, but I know it's a camera. They're watching. Just waiting for me to fall asleep and drop my guard. Or perhaps they're looking to see me try to escape and mete out punishment after. They--the mares running this place, that is--might even be waiting for Redheart to get far enough away before... ...I'm not making much sense, am I? I hope you'll forgive my paranoia--it's just that it has served me quite well in the past. The truth is, I'm really scared. This whole situation is starting to sink in and I'm not prepared to deal with it. Was my average, contented life truly so irksome as to warrant this? I know, I know. Complaining doesn't help anything. I should shut my mou--er, muzzle before I go on a pointless tirade. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...I'm glad you're here with me. You are...the only friend I have left, pathetic as it sounds. Sorry, it's just that someone told me a long time ago to focus on what I'm thankful for, that it makes hard times easier. I'm thankful for you. It's been some hours since I last thought to you. I had to give myself time to stew. I've managed to refrain from sleep for the most part--dozing a little here and there before catching myself. I think the sun is almost up. I'm watching the sky change color from the window right now. It...it's beautiful. Living in Manhattan, you just don't get to see things like this. I'd describe it to you if I had the words, but I think I'm too tired anyway. Gosh, it sure is breathtaking. Ponyville--that's the town we're in, as least as long as I overheard correctly--is such a quaint little place. It almost seems sheltered from the harshness of reality--a little hamlet of tranquility in an otherwise cruel and unforgiving world. I can see ponies waking up, just now exiting their doors and heading down the cobblestone streets. Along the way, they meet friends and strangers alike, but all are treated with gracious greetings and cheery attitudes. I'm grateful to see this from here. It's almost enough to take my mind off things. I just have to wonder, y'know? What it would be like to fit right in with those ponies. To live carefree like that, without dreading what is soon to come. Just...wiling the days away among friends and acquaintances, spending years with a family that isn't out to get me. One that cares. That loves me in a way that doesn't make me want to throw up or fight back or call the authorities. I'm finding my gaze drawn especially to the sky and the pegasi soaring through it. If I had the energy, my own wings might be buzzing in ecstasy and anticipation. They look so graceful up there. Untethered. Free. Through my blurry vision I can make out a pair of grounded ponies approaching the hospital. The one's white coat and pink mane catches my attention and I straighten, hurriedly wiping the moisture from my eyes. Despite my haste, I can catch only a few more glances of them before they round the bend and leave my window. That was definitely Doctor Redheart, though. It almost looked like a stallion with her, too. I found my spirits lifting with hope at that thought. ...sorry for the abrupt change in tense. I'm going to try using past from now on. It'll help me stay alert. You'll let me know if I start slipping, right? That will probably mean I'm starting to lose consciousness. If that happens, I'll need to get to a safe spot as soon as possible. Alright. Past tense. Here we go. I hopped down from the window in short order, trotting over to the middle of the room. I had the feeling that someone would be entering soon, so I decided to keep my eyes on the door. Any assailants would not get the drop on me, at very least, so preparation was key. I stayed there, sitting on my haunches before the entrance, for quite some time. Surprisingly, I found myself hoping a certain doctor would be the one to open it, though any explanation evaded me entirely. The anticipation was starting to get overwhelming. My vision tunneled towards that looming door and a pit of cold dread formed itself in my chest as time wore on. The approaching clack of hoofsteps only raised my anxiety. I was shaking, hyperventilating as they stopped just outside. When the handle turned and the door cracked open, I'd already stood and begun backing away. Imagine my relief, then, when the pony who stepped inside happened to be exactly who I wanted to see. "Redheart!" My child voice squeaked and I stumbled before I could gallop any closer. Really, this was fortunate; no matter how much I wanted to, there was no way I could trust the mare. Despite knowing this, I was somewhat surprised to find a large part of me yearning to throw myself into her arms--er, forelegs. It was looking like my new foal body had some impulses I'd need to restrain. I wasn't the only one shocked; Redheart paused and furrowed her brows at me while tilting her head. Apparently, she hadn't expected I'd be so happy to see her. I fumbled, standing with haste and splaying my legs against the tile floor. I needed to regain control of the situation before she got the idea that I liked her. Soon enough, she'd reveal her true intentions and that would hurt far worse if I ever got attached. "Don't come closer!" I commanded, wincing at the crack and waver in my voice. Thankfully, the doctor listened and promptly sat, just barely inside the room. Instinctively, my muscles loosened and I grimaced in displeasure, still fighting the urge to run to her. Redheart smiled gently and lowered herself until she was laying down, tucking her legs in much like a cat 'loafing'. "Don't worry, Heath. I'll stay right here. Nopony's going to approach you." Now, admittedly, the mare didn't exactly look threatening like this. As seconds wore on, I had no choice but to relax and settle down on the floor in like fashion. It wasn't like I had the energy to be tense for too long, anyway. When Redheart opened her muzzle again, I perked up and raised a brow at the words to follow: "I brought somepony I'd like you to meet." Into the room stepped another earth pony with a beige coat, dark brown mane, and blue eyes, wearing a freshly-pressed green bowtie. He was a stallion! "Greetings, good chap. My name is--!" The introduction was cut short when I cannoned straight into his legs. The stallion stumbled, barely catching me and rocking with the momentum. I gripped him tightly and stared up with intensity, waiting for him to return the look with a shocked expression before I spoke. "Will you help me?" My voice was small and hushed, as though on some level I didn't want Redheart to hear. He paused, blinking, but after many moments gave a firm nod. "That is my intention, Heath." I didn't question how he knew my name. I was too desperate for any measure of support. "Thunderlane left me..." I was going to say more, but sudden emotion closed my throat. I must have looked quite pathetic, sitting there with giant teary pony eyes and a sad little frown. The stallion wrapped me in a tight hug, leaning close to whisper in my twitching ears. "My name is Time Turner. I won't." It took longer than my pride liked at all to pull myself together. This colt body was putting me through all the emotion and, unlike before, I didn't have the maturity to suppress it. Rivulets of salty water spilled from my eyes and left wet splotches all over my face and his coat. He started gently rocking and humming some melody in a soft baritone voice, which did help to some degree. I was doing my best to not be present in those moments, but it was like his presence forced me back to reality whenever I tried to mentally leave. Eventually, it all just petered out and I slumped in Turner's grip, utterly spent. It was only then that I could escape, going momentarily to a brighter place. When I returned to awareness, we'd left the room and were walking down the hall, Redheart leading and me leaning into Turner's leg for support. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes I'd spent away, but I was grateful nonetheless for the break. Sorry for just summarizing things, by the way. I figure you know enough now to not be as interested in the finer details. Right! Past tense! We ended up in a lounge I recognized from yesterday, with the same unicorn mare holding a clipboard waiting inside. She had an unpleasant sort of look on her face and I hated the way her eyes tracked me across the room as we made our way in. I half-expected her to lick her lips or something, the predatory vibes were that strong. Probably the only reason I wasn't freaking out was because I had my good pal Time Turner right there. With me very much on edge, we made our way to the sofa and sat across from her. "The purpose of this meeting is to finalize foster proceedings and restate the situation plainly for transparency's sake," the violet mare said, her gaze lingering on my lethargic form. I returned the stare, making every effort to look defiant despite my lack of anything resembling energy. "Heath was found and brought here from Ponyville's border. There are no records of any colts matching his description in this or any surrounding town's databases. He has not told us much about where he is from or his herd and, colts being as they are, will not easily provide much more information." It was unsettling how accurate that statement was. I had no intention of sharing anything I hadn't already; the more they knew about me, the more they could use to inflict harm. This mare clearly understood much of my thought process, then. All the more evidence to show she was up to no good. Truthfully, I didn't know why I was going along with all this. Maybe because I was so discombobulated thanks to suddenly waking up in ponyland. Perhaps Time Turner and--to a smaller extent--Redheart were appealing enough that staying with them until I figured things out didn't seem like a bad thing. It could possibly have been that I had no better alternative anyway. What was I going to do, walk out? Try and dig my way back home? No, obviously not. A plan was beginning to form, though: I'd bunk with the ponies I was sitting between and together they'd be able to hold the rest of their herd off. I'd gain access to a library or archives and study dimensional travel to see how I ended up here. Once that was done, I'd contact the nearest wizard or whatever and say my goodbyes. Simple, right? And yet every step of that plan leaned on far too many unknowable factors. Would I really be safe with the rest of their herd? I knew magic existed here and was used quite casually, but that didn't guarantee any kind of multiversal study. And even if these ponies knew about other dimensions, that didn't mean I'd be able to access or find my home. Despite the flaws in my plan, I found my spirits lifting with hope. For the first time since waking up here, I actually had a plan of action. I wasn't pessimistic enough not to appreciate that much. "...you and your herd are to care for Heath as your own until then," Violet Mist addressed Redheart. I realized I hadn't been paying attention at all, which was bad seeing as current events were dictating my future. Luckily, it seemed nopony had directly tried to interact with me. "If new evidence reveals his actual herd aren't abusive, as is possible and perhaps likely, he will promptly be returned with all due apologies." I found myself bristling at that. Even though I hadn't gone into detail or communicated more than a look, the idea that they were already prepared to disbelieve me hurt. Moreover, being somehow returned to my family... I had to wonder what lengths they might go to. Suddenly, going back to earth didn't seem all too great anymore. "Try and get all the information you can. If holes in Heath's story appear," I was absolutely certain I didn't imagine the dangerous glint in Violet's eye, but just as sure that neither earth pony I was sandwiched between took notice, "I will ensure swift corrections are made." My glare was weak; I knew who held the authority here and I was well aware of how powerless that made me. There was no chance anypony could learn more about me. If any more information got out, Violet Mist would make my life here miserable. Redheart and Turner might even get caught in the crossfire. The meeting continued, but I was too enervated to care. A prickling anxiety was beginning to take hold. If I screwed up, let something--anything--loose, that would be it. Game over. Violet would ensure I never saw the light again. One more burden to carry, I suppose. Sorry for the fragmented thoughts. I'm not making much sense, am I? The truth is, that mare really intimidates me. The fact that she can so easily ruin everything, it... ...well, it reminds of home. She's got an amount of power over my life that I can only dream of having. Oh, the fond memories that brings. At this point, I'm kind of collapsed against Turner's side. I feel heavy bags under my eyes and the urge to close them is only intensifying. I blink slowly and slip deeper. Hey, sleep doesn't sound too bad, y'know? No, wait! I can't... there was something...! ...Oh no... ... ... I jolted awake atop an incredibly soft surface, the scent of strawberries invading my nostrils. Reaching my forelegs around revealed I was moving on something long before I could finally separate my crusty eyelids. When they did open, I saw I was draped along Redheart's white back as she walked through the streets of Ponyville. Time Turner's presence beside her helped me calm down, especially when he trotted closer to check on me. That all happened some few minutes ago. I've opted to stay where I am since then; Redheart's back is very comfortable and I don't trust myself not to collapse if left to my own devices. If anything awful were to happen, it'd be when I was unconscious anyway. If the view from the hospital was stunning, now, in the midst of the streets, I'm utterly breathless. Ponyville is practically drowning in small-town charm. Something that does catch my attention, though, is how many mares there are. They populate every corner and open space in sight--there's not an angle I can look where I don't see at least three of them. Worse, they're clearly interested in me. They don't even bother trying to hide their prolonged looks or hurried murmurs. Some even follow behind for a few steps, which is terrifying enough that I'm clinging to Redheart as tightly as I can. Sticking with direct sentences is really helping. My mind wants to wander right now and I need to keep focus. I don't think I can concentrate enough to revert back to past tense. I...really need more sleep. I only slept an hour or so, according to Time Turner. Being this tired really stinks. Can't rest. Mares everywhere. We make it to what is evidently Redheart's home. She takes a moment to explain the elaborate symbol on the door--a 'herd emblem,' as she calls it. I recognize the red cross and hourglass inside it from my new caretakers' flanks and I wonder if the other composite symbols come from others in the herd. I'm interested, but Turner opens the door and leads us in before I can ask any questions. Wow, this must be way less interesting for you. What kind of storyteller am I, stripping away all but the barest parts of my words? I'm sorry. You deserve better than that. Let me make it up to you by describing the house. I'll try to stay coherent. The inside of the house is, while not extravagant, certainly not lacking. Elegant paintings are well spaced along the walls, depicting a wide array of landscapes from snowy mountains to rolling hills and everything in between. The living room--or, at least, what I can see of it from the front hallway--is well-furnished with two sofas and a recliner, with a coffee table in between. The ceiling is quite high, but a set of stairs to my left reveals there's at least one floor above it. Once Redheart steps through the hallway, I'm able to take a look at the well-stocked kitchen adjacent to the living room, with many cabinets and a counter that are far beyond the reach of my stubby pony legs. I'm not sure how horse economy works, but my overall impression is that this herd is quite well-off. Aw, crap. That was a lot of 'wells,' wasn't it? That just goes to show how tired I am. I can't even think of any other adjectives to avoid repetition. Hurriedly, I hop down from Redheart's back and duck behind her. Two ponies--females both--are sat on one of the couches, staring me down with far too much interest. This isn't good. The other herdmares are already after me! I edge over to Turner--who's standing around quite easily, as though ignorant of the obvious danger--and frantically tap his fetlock before whispering my request. "Do I have a room?" The stallion opens his mouth to interject. It almost seems like he wants me to 'meet' the mares. All it takes to stop that, though, is one look at my terrified face and the way my eyes track their every move. I watch the words die in his throat as he heaves a heavy sigh. "Up the stairs, far end of the hall. Make yourself at home, Heath." That's all the invitation I need! I'm on the second story and zipping into the room before I can even think to check if anypony's following me. I manage to slam the door closed behind me, but I can't reach the lock on the handle so I lean my body against it as a barricade instead. I'm freaking out. I'm terrified. Please help me. ... ...at least you're here. ... ...okay. Okay. I think... I think they're going to leave me be for now. I can never tell for sure, you see; their changing moods make predicting their actions impossible. Something that incited punishment yesterday might be totally fine now. After all these minutes, though, I can be fairly certain that nothing's going to happen, at least yet. A relief, if small. Nonetheless appreciated. This gives me time to think. Maybe now I can make my escape. I've heard tell of a town not too far from here. If I hitchhike on a few trains, perhaps pausing for directions, I can get there no problem. Supposedly, it's quite friendly. It might even be far enough that they won't find me. Maybe then I can be free. Maybe then, I can live happily on my own, unbothered by anyone. Maybe then... Maybe then, you'll finally forgive what I did. And then maybe you'll actually-- Knock ... Don't worry, it's just Time Turner. He's asking if he can come in. ... I told him 'yes'. Now he wants me to get out of the door's way. I suppose that makes sense. ... It's hard. my limbs feel frozen stiff. I feel so disoriented, like I have no idea where I am. The walls I've been emptily staring at for what must've been an hour now are finally coming into focus. The room looks nice, like the rest of the house. I could see myself settling in here. It's a pretty generic guest room, but that just reminds me of my apartment back in Manhattan when I first moved in. The fun was in customizing it--making it my own. I can already imagine an oaken bookshelf here, a navy blue nightstand there. Some paint on the walls and ceiling. Maybe even glow-in-the-dark stars for cloudy nights when I can't see the real ones. These thoughts stabilize me. I remember where I am, now, and I'm able to step aside, letting Turner in. I feel... better. I'm even going to switch to past tense to prove it. Here we go. "I'm sorry, Heath. We shouldn't have tried to introduce you immediately like that. I thought..." Turner shook himself and settled down, but not before gently closing the door behind him. I sat in like fashion, blinking curiously up at his saddened expression. "...are you alright? I should hope you're not too terribly shaken." It took a moment of introspection for me to come up with a response, during which I scooted closer. Unlike Thunderlane, Time Turner took my need for comfort in stride and draped a foreleg around my small withers. "I'm okay. Just," I took a shaky breath, "don't expect me to be around them. I know they're out to get me." He sighed again and started rubbing my back, causing my shivers to decrease. I shut my eyes and focused on trying to calm down, feeling my heartrate slow. "I'm glad to hear that, Heath. I hate to say it, but..." It almost seemed like he was going to sigh again, but Turner pulled me close to his chest instead. "You will have to get used to relying on mares. My wives are wonderful ponies. They're not out to get you. I promise they just want to help." I didn't believe him, obviously. Maybe they treated him well, but I was a different story. I'd recognized that look on their faces. The light blue one had been all too interested in me and her gaze had wandered all over my body. The grey one had been so focused that her lazy eye snapped into place. I knew what that meant. "Can you please keep them away from me? At least until we work things out?" I wasn't sure he understood what I meant by that, but at the same time, I didn't really care. More pressing matters were at hoof, primarily the fact that I was trapped back in a house with females that wanted to use me. "What about Redheart?" Turner's question actually stopped me short. I blinked a few times and ultimately left my eyes open, staring out across the room. Moments passed with the stallion patiently waiting. Idly, I wondered how comfortable it could possibly be to sit propped on his haunches like this. Not very, I would think. His bowtie rustled as I leaned my head back. "I don't know. I want to like her. Just like I want to trust you." He wasn't surprised by my insinuation, I could tell. We kind of just sat in silence for a while, both processing things and each other. I liked Time Turner; he was the kind of person I could simply sit with. We didn't even need to talk or interact any more than being in each other's presence to come to understandings. I was adamant that his wives were after me--since, y'know, they were--while he wanted me to feel safe here. Slowly, it was like I could sense him making up his mind. Before Turner got the chance to speak, though, I finally processed something he said earlier and interrupted. "Wait, why would I have to rely on mares?" This derailed his train of thought entirely, but that was fine; I already knew he was going to agree to keep his wives off my tail. "Because that is how the world functions, Heath. We depend on them for many things. Why, I don't know where I'd be without..." I slipped out of the stallion's grip, standing and turning fully to face him. Turner saw the look on my face and paused, creasing his eyebrows. "You mean you don't know? How can you..." thankfully, he halted that line of questioning pretty fast. I didn't exactly know how to tell him I was from an alien planet with sapient monkey people and, with how tired I was still, my explanation would probably be even less coherent. Time Turner inhaled deeply and settled back on the floor, curling his brown tail around his side. With me standing and him laying down, we were about eye level. "I suppose I shall start at the beginning, then," he began. My ears swiveled to face him as I directed all of my attention. "Ponykind is a relatively odd race. While almost every other sapient species has an even gender ratio and magical power distribution between members, we... well, my theory is that we evolved quite strangely." Turner straightened and engaged what I decided to call 'lecture mode,' using his hooves to gesture and bring emphasis to things. "Early protoponies and equines were the first and only ones to develop mana pools, which led to increased intelligence and magic use. This gave them a sort of 'leg up' in the race of natural selection. When more members survived, the species thrived. Soon, there was no almost no competition whatsoever, and we were free to live as we wished, left alone by any predators since we were simply too powerful." I cocked my head and laid back down, highly interested in the information. I mean, who wouldn't be? Alien lifeform origin story? Hello? "Wait," said I, "so, ponies are the most powerful creatures and everyone else leaves us alone. Great, but none of that has anything to do with why I'd need to rely on mares!" With both of us 'loafing,' I came up to the base of his neck, but that only enhanced his sagely nod. "You are correct, but evolution didn't stop there. Eventually, everything else caught up to our head start and we needed to find a way to get back ahead. As things were, with power levels evenly spaced, we had a net neutral lead of sorts. But if we could specialize, condensing more magic into fewer individuals..." A lightbulb of sorts flicked on above me and I couldn't stop a smile of eureka. "--So, the more powerful members could fight the competition and survive much better than everypony collectively." Another nod and I realized my tail was wagging slightly from the excitement of discovery. The stallion noticed it too, but opted not to comment and continued instead. "There is much debate in the scientific community over how exactly it happened, but my personal theory," he gave a quick wink, "is that the stallions of old got together and collectively decided to give their power to the mares. I believe our current gender roles were once reversed like every other creature, and in one massive show of chivalry we gifted them the ability to better survive the harsh wilds. Over enough generations of performing the same rituals, nature followed suit and it simply became permanent." My tail stopped wagging. "So, mares are twice as powerful as stallions, and have a leg up on every other creature because of it?" To my horror, Time Turner nodded and cheerfully continued. "Evolution wasn't even done there, however. With mares now so strong that survival wasn't an issue again, continued existence was all but guaranteed. Well, except for the fact that," he blushed. The grown stallion, father of two, actually blushed. "Reproduction requires both genders of a species and now one was significantly weaker than the other. Stallions began to fall prey to just about everything and our numbers declined. It fell to mares to protect us from the world's dangers. As such, natural selection picked traits that best allowed them to do so, while birth ratios began to skew so there'd be fewer stallions to worry about." He nodded to himself, still not noticing my expression, and finished up: "Things have been that way ever since. The fact of the matter is, without as much magic to bolster our bodies, stallions are around four times more fragile than the average mare. And colts like yourself have it even worse, as with no magic whatsoever, you're around eight times more fragile. And that's only the start of how inferior males are!" It boggled me, how he could say that all so nonchalantly. My plans of freedom and self-sufficiency were dissipating before my eyes. Devastated by this information, knowing I'd need to rely on those who only wanted to use me for the rest of my stay here, I could only bow my head. That...this...it was beyond terrible. Mares could do whatever they wanted. In life, to me, whatever. In this world, I'd always be powerless to stop them. If what Turner was saying was true--and it did check out with other things I had heard in passing--then I would never be able to fight back successfully against even one of them. And the stallion wouldn't be able to protect me like I hoped. Not really. I needed some time to process this. Turner finally noticed my reaction and tried to backtrack, but understood what I wanted soon enough. He was sure to leave the door cracked open behind him, saying something about how dinner would be ready in a few hours. Kind of odd, really; it couldn't have been much later than noon. I supposed ponies had meals early. The fact that we'd be eating at all was a relief. I didn't feel hungry at the moment, but experience had taught me that that was soon to change. I knew I should rest until food was prepared, having a young body that needed sleep and all, but even looking at the four-poster bed all neatly made for me couldn't make me feel tired. It was actually kind of funny, in a dark sort of way. I'd stayed up all the night prior in hopes of warding off enterprising females waiting for me to go to sleep, but they could do what they wanted just as easily when I was awake. Looking back, there really wasn't much point to any of it. That did bring another question to mind, though: If they could do whatever they wanted at any time, what had stopped them? Why weren't they barging through the door at this very moment to have their way with me? Too many witnesses? Societal expectation? Some base level of decency? Pacing circles through the guest bedroom, I found my nervous energy required an outlet. After rifling through the closet and some greyish cabinets, I came across an empty notebook and some pencils. What purpose they served I didn't bother questioning at that moment--I was too busy with cracking it open and beginning to sketch. Now, I wasn't an artist or a man of much talent in general--perfectly average, remember--but I knew the basics and desperation was a pretty good motivator for new hobbies. I could just as easily have started writing a poem or folding the paper like origami, but both of those required more concentration than mindlessly scribbling. Drawing proved to be the exact thing I needed at that moment. Primitive stick figures evolved into clothed people with umbrellas waking down a busy street. I added angular buildings, some light rainfall, and several cars. Lastly, I capped the top with the underside of an umbrella, showing it was from the perspective of another person. All told, it probably looked really bad, but creating the piece was a welcome distraction from the information I had received. I'd show it to you if I could. I know I'd only get your honest opinion. It's a shame I can only describe things. While appraising my work and picking out imperfections, I happened to glance up at the door and promptly recoiled in shock. Blinking and looking again revealed nothing, but that didn't change what I'd seen. Somepony had been watching me! "Hello?" I called out. Seconds passed, but finally a sheepish face showed itself, nudging the door open. An orchid-colored face, to be exact, with a rounded muzzle to boot. Instantly, my eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Er, hi. Heath, right?" My nod was terse and it almost looked like she flinched, but the unicorn still stepped into the room. "My name is Amy." I blinked at the human-sounding name and, perhaps noticing my surprise, she quickly finished. "Short for Amethyst. Amethyst Star." Yeah, that made more sense, though it did conflict with what was clearly a trio of diamonds on her flank. I had noticed that names tended to reflect those markings. And her mane was too dark a purple for it to be that. Actually, wait, it might've been the lighter streak in her hair. "...you're not what I expected," she said quite awkwardly. I raised a brow, bemused, while Amy continued to approach. "I... heard my parents talking about you last night. They said you--" she cut herself off with a gasp, staring at my hindquarters. I discovered a smile forming on my face. A sickly smile. The kind of smile a disillusioned soldier heading on a suicide mission would make. The kind of smile a victim of torture has after keeping tight hold of the information the warden wants so badly. I found a calm of sorts descending on me. I couldn't explain it, but the feeling was a nice change of pace. There was no rage, no fear, no sensation of betrayal. I only felt... something I couldn't really describe. It felt a lot like vindication. "So. This is it, then." I stated with words far below freezing. Amy looked confused, especially at my grim grin. She'd stopped mere inches in front of me. I knew what happened now. "Going to take what you want before the others have a chance? Suppose there's a certain feeling of victory, eh? Conquest?" She blinked her purple eyes, uncomprehending. "...what?" Amy asked intelligently. "How old are you, Amy?" I was almost conversational with this question, even as I laid myself on the floor and pushed my notebook away. "I'm sixteen," she responded, still obviously bamboozled. That was interesting--I would have guessed quite a bit older. She was so tall, I might have even mistaken her for an adult. There was a sort of humor to that. To this whole situation, in fact. A grand kind of humor that'd be sure to get an audience roaring. That, or make them recoil in horror. "Plenty old, then, huh? I wonder where you'll start." I was so bold as to reach out, tapping away at her cannon bone. There was no point in resisting, after all. "The type to mosey on and take your time? Or will you get impatient and head straight for the prize?" I had no idea where these words were coming from. I hardly even felt like myself at that moment. It was like the world had faded to a blur and my emotions followed suit. Something about knowing I was completely helpless, it was like nothing even mattered anymore. This was life. I could already feel myself preparing to phase out. "Oh. OH! No, nonono!" Amethyst Star exploded backwards and shook her head with more rapidity than a fly's buzzing wings. Her mane was sent flying to either side while her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. She panted, suddenly short of breath, and it was several moments before she could speak again. "No, I-I'm not going to..." Amy's face took on a greenish tinge and it looked like she might vomit. "I-I was j-just... I..." She sat, heavily and halfway across the room, taking a deep, calming breath. My brow found itself back against my cherry red hairline, where I was slightly concerned it would take permanent residence at this point. Amy fixed a steady gaze on me, but still looked shaken. "I was sent to tell you that dinner's ready. Lasagna and potato casserole, Dad's special. I'm to escort you downstairs." She stood, then, and cantered through the door before turning to look back at my prone form. "If you'll follow me...?" I didn't move a muscle. I might've laughed if I wasn't dreading the meal to come. "You really think I'll follow you?" I asked with no small amount of disdain. Amy flinched, shooting me a pleading look. When I failed to react, she sighed in defeat. "I can get Redheart. Would... would that be better?" At my nod, she sighed again and left without another word. The named mare arrived soon after. I still hadn't moved, more rattled than I cared to admit. I had... absolutely no idea what just happened. I'd never reacted like that before. If I'd done what I did with Amy in front of my family, only horrors would follow. Stranger yet was the teen's reaction, as though she somehow found such an act to be exactly as reprehensible as it was, despite-- "--Heath?" Redheart interrupted. She was crouched down with her eyebrows creased in worry, some feet away from me. I finally snapped out of my thoughts and rose from the floor, striding over to her. My face found itself planted in her fluffy, white chest and the pleasant smell of strawberries overwhelmed my senses. This didn't last long--I realized how dangerous such an action was. It felt nice to let myself believe I was safe, though, if only for a moment. "Let's go." I was drained and more or less resigned to my fate. Fatigue found me again and held tight. We took off down the stairs without much ceremony. I stumbled occasionally, but Redheart was there to stabilize my lethargic form. It was only then that I really registered how strong she was. Carrying me must have been absolutely effortless. The dining area was past the kitchen, opposite the living room. It, like the rest of the house, was well-furnished. A large, round table took up much of the space, around which seven cushions were arrayed. Amy's description of dinner rang true, as the same food she'd named sat waiting atop it. Time Turner was waiting for me just inside the doorway and he fell into step on my left, mirroring Redheart on my right. The food was delectable. It didn't have quite the same sheer quality of Thunderlane's stew, but that just meant I wasn't sent into a rabid fit. I couldn't focus too much on it anyway, because I was far too busy tracking the mares opposite. My head was drooping. The bags on my eyes were getting heavier. I... I'm... They're sat on the other end of the table and seem to be making every effort not to look at me. They're still interested. They're plotting, I can tell. I'm so tired. I'm slipping. I'm falling. It's so hard to stay. . . Up. I think... ...I think I'll just... ...
please make it stopi don't want to be here. i don't want to be here. i don't want to be here. oh gosh. she's here. i need to run now stay back stay away stay there. please. don't move. don't... ...move. ... ... Okay. Okay, I'm... disoriented. I just woke up and, well... You know how I said I didn't have nightmares anymore? Yeah, uh... that changed. Real fast. Someone must've put me back in bed. The four-poster one in my room. It does feel pretty nice, despite the torn blankets and deformed pillows. Actually, those are probably from me thrashing around just now. Redheart's here. Gosh. I'm glad she isn't moving. She was looking at my drawing when I woke up. I think she was the one that brought me here. How long has she been...? How long have I been asleep? ... A few hours, huh? And she hasn't left my side. I... ... Heh. I guess this is it, then. No. NO! You'll have to try harder than-- --the-- ... The door is closed. This... I'm... Too tiny to reach the handle. Too helpless. A sitting duck. Redheart's coming. "Please, don't..." I'm so weak. ... She says 'it'll be okay'. What a joke. I can't even muster up a reply. What's the point? What's the point of anything? She's got me in a hold. So strong I'll never escape. Her arms around me, pulling constricting asphyxiating It'll happen soon. She'll get tired of all the foreplay. Please help. I'm scared. ... squeezing beating breathing ...gross. So yucky. I don't want it. You! You need to help me! I'm so, so scattered I need you to talk to me. I want--need--to hear your voice. Please, please, just one word. One little word and this will be so much easier. I know you've been silent throughout this whole thing, but please. I really need this. You can't just sit there looking at me. You can't. You're better than that. I know you are. I know because... ...please. please please... her scent invades my nostrils. It's harsh, cloying, repulsive. It's everywhere. And still the pulling, yanking, pounding... PLEASE! TALK TO ME! ... ... ... ... ... ...please ... .. . You used to talk to me. That's how I know. We had the grandest times together, you and me. We'd travel to the park together and play games there. You always loved 'tag', even though it was only the two of us. We ran races, too, and you always won those. I remember... your voice. Your laugh. Oh, how I loved your laugh. I'd tell the stupidest jokes and you just couldn't control yourself. You told the coolest stories, too. I recall being captivated while you spun a tale of one-eyed alien space pirates. You're so much more creative than me. Back then, you never let me forget it, either! I looked up to you, y'know. Such great times we had together. Don't you remember? ... Of course. How could you forget? But it changed when I... ... I... I screwed up. Really bad. I hurt you. Really bad. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. For everything I did. For the things I said. Listen, I'm just an average guy now, see? Nothing interesting whatsoever about me. It's pathetic, really. I'm determined to fix it. To make up for what I did. I'm trying so hard. And I'm still scared. I need you to speak. So please, in the name of all the years we spent together, forgive me. ... Please forgive me. ... Please forgive me. ... ... You don't need to forgive me ... You can be as angry as you want! At this point, I'll take anything. ... They don't have to be words. ... ... ... Yell at me. Do it. Express your hatred. ... ... ... WHY! WHY WON'T YOU DO ANYTHING?! ... . . . ............... please............................ ... Fine. After long enough, my screaming dies down and I feel a warm blanket settle over my body. It's nice. It's heavy, but just the right amount to feel snug without being oppressive. It's the kind of blanket that's fuzzy, so I rub my face into it, drying my tears. It's the kind of blanket that smells good, like freshly-picked strawberries. It's the kind of blanket that doesn't judge me for outbursts. The kind that's there to pick up my pieces. The kind that's been around me the whole time since I woke up here and still hasn't made any advances. ... It's the kind of blanket that deserves an apology. "I'm sorry, Redheart." ... Heh. She asked 'what for'. "For being so uncooperative. For being ungrateful for all you've done for me. For..." ... ... "...for thinking you wanted to use me. You're not that kind of pony. I'm sorry for thinking you were." ... I like Redheart. I Trust her. This feels... right. ... She forgave me. Told me to call her 'Reddie,' or 'Mom,' whichever felt better. I think I will. ... ... I think I'm going to stop bothering with you. Clearly, There's no repairing the damage. I don't know why I bothered trying. You probably listen solely because you have to, huh? Fine. I'll shut up. You won't even have to hear from me again. How does that sound? Goodbye. ...... ...... ..... ... ... .. . . .
Chapter Seven - Curiosity Killed The Filly"Dinky, no!" Hissed Amethyst Star as she tailed her sister, stepping quietly in a vain attempt to dampen all the sound. "Dinky, yes!" Cheered the little filly as she all but bounced up the stairs, giggling on her way with the innocence and exuberance of youth. Amy groaned and continued to chase her, but the late hour meant she dared not catch up for fear of making a ruckus. The youth winced with every creaking step as they ascended, with Dinky zooming ahead before pausing in the middle of the hallway. The grey filly had a leg raised, peeking back at her sister's exasperated expression with a playful smile. "You coming, Amy?" The unicorn in question let out a breath of disbelief. "No, I'm not, because we're not supposed to be dis--" was as far as she got before the rebellious little brat scampered on ahead. "Dinky--!" Was that a raspberry? Oh, that runt was so in for it. Amethyst caught up to her little sister easily enough. Dinky had reached the door to their guest's room, only to find it locked tight. Her fruitless scabbling and disappointed pout had no effect, either, and she couldn't do much more before Amy's magical aura yanked her away. Sprawled over and pinned to the carpet floor, the filly looked up at her sister's displeased frown with a smile so innocent it belonged on a newborn colt. "C'mon, Amy! Don't you wanna see him, too?" A snort was Amethyst's reaction while she tossed her head. "After all that screaming a few minutes ago? Absolutely not. We can't just waltz into Heath's room." The very idea appalled her, especially considering what happened last time she tried that. Unfortunately, Dinky didn't seem to agree. "Why?" Amy blinked in shock, but the filly's question seemed genuine. Impossibly so, the more she thought about it. Didn't Dinky know how improper it was to barge into a colt's room? Didn't she know how somepony as mistreated as Heath was would react to such an intrusion? Was she aware of how trauma worked at all? Actually, the answer to those questions was probably 'no'. Dinky was pretty sheltered. Amy stopped short when she realized this and her pause grew lengthier when she couldn't come up with a good way to explain. Really, she didn't know too much about these things either and her ears began drooping at the sobering thought. "I..." Dinky continued to stare with an expectant expression while she fumbled for words. "Well, Heath is..." wracking her brain, Amy finally came up with the not-inaccurate-but-still-uninformative: "...special." The filly blinked, growing incredulous, while her sister cringed slightly. "Well, duh!" Exclaimed Dinky, "all colts are special! That's how come we gotta be careful and not roughhouse when they're around!" She stood as Amy's magic faded away, brushing herself off but still holding a chipper smile. "And they can't play any fun games with us at recess, or else Cheerilee says they'll get hurt 'n stuff!" Dinky looked proud of herself, while her sister shook her head with a confused frown. "If you knew all that, then why barge in on Heath in the middle of the night?" The filly rolled her eyes, waving a hoof at the disapproving glare aimed her way. If Amy frowned any harder, her muzzle could very well gain an unnatural curve forever. "I wasn't gonna touch him, silly! I just wanted a look at my new brother! He barely spent any time with us at dinner." Dinky was so oblivious sometimes, Amy had the sudden urge to laugh. She quelled it, of course, even though they'd definitely made way too much noise by now. She could only hope they hadn't woken Dad. "That's because Heath..." but the words died in the unicorn's throat again. Dinky looked so curious, so innocent, so pure. How could Amethyst ruin that? How could she break the news without also betraying the colt in a way, either? Was it really her business to share what he'd been through? A sudden voice that both youngsters recognized made them freeze in place. "I can hear you two just fine out there." Amy's mouth flopped open and closed, her spiraling mind scrambling for something to say as Redheart's voice resonated from behind Heath's door. "You fillies can go ahead and come in. The door's unlocked, now. Don't wake your father." This was all the invitation Dinky needed. A blink, and suddenly she was leaning against the door on her hind hooves, nuzzling the handle open. Amy followed at a much more sedate pace, feeling her ears pin themselves against her head as she pictured what might be within. The youth was somewhat disappointed in that respect. Once Dinky all but hopped inside with a swishing tail, Amy's gaze was drawn to her Alpha Mare, laying on the rug mere feet within. Or, more specifically, her eyes landed on the small green-and-red form nestled up against Redheart's side. Heath looked so frail, tiny, and--dare she think it--cute that even Dinky let out a squeaky 'awwww' as she approached. The filly came to a halt mere inches from where Redheart's tail was curled around the sleeping colt. After several seconds seeing him snooze away, though, her endeared smile became a disappointed pout. "Why's he still sleeping? He's done nothing but sleep the whole time!" Dinky at least had the decency to speak in a hushed tone, but that hardly made her words any less inconsiderate, at least in Amy's opinion. Her Alpha donned a patient smile, but there was a noticeable firmness in her voice when she responded. "Colts need their sleep, Dinky. Without magic to energize them, they can't stay up for as long as you can." Something occurred to Redheart then and she tilted her head, gazing between the two. "Speaking of, where are the others? I haven't seen them since dinner." Amethyst stepped into the room proper, circling around her while leaving a wide berth--Heath was sleeping soundly, but one couldn't be too careful. "Derpy's in the nest with Dad. Minuette's in the basement, working on the new design. We were going to go help her like Mom said, but somepony wanted to terrorize our 'new brother.'" Those last two words came out with much heavier air quotes than Amy had intended and she cringed under Redheart's questioning look. Luckily, Dinky proved too great a distraction, bouncing yet closer and reaching towards Heath's face. "I wanted to say hi! Can't we wake him up for ju--" Redheart made no physical movements. As an Alpha Mare, she didn't need to. All she had to do was clear her throat and utter a soft: "Back." For the filly to freeze and take several steps away. Amethyst froze too, feeling shivers down her spine at the commanding, powerful tone in the voice. Neither youngster dared think of disobeying her leader. They both stood stock still, staring at her with rapt attention. Redheart gave a gentle smile, which eased much of the tension, but they remained in place until she nodded a release. "It's best not to disturb him, okay, Dinky?" The filly in question edged closer with great trepidation before the mare held out a foreleg in an inviting gesture. "Okay," agreed Dinky as she curled up against the front of her Alpha's barrel like an obedient puppy. It was some seconds until she found her voice again, spent being comforted by a reassuring nuzzle. In that time, Amy had unlocked her legs and sat on the carpet floor, squinting in the dim light. "Why, though? We get to wake Daddy up all the time!" Redheart let out a low hum, flicking her tail so it landed covering more of Heath's prone form. "Like Amy said, Heath is special. I know you're excited to make a new friend, but you have to be even more careful with him." The earth pony gazed down, faintly apologetic, at the pouting unicorn all but buried in her chest fluff. "It's best if you stay away, at least for now. Let Heath come to you when he's ready, okay?" Dinky didn't respond this time. For as rebellious as she could be, she knew when to listen to authority. Amy only wished she counted in that respect, but one couldn't have everything. Seated on her haunches, the young mare found herself glancing about the darkened guest room. The four-poster bed occupying one corner looked so messy that it seemed a rabid bear had torn out of its confines. A connecting curtain rod had snapped, leaving the canopy in a heap on the ground. Amy's perceptive eyes noticed disturbed patches of carpet, like scuffed hoofprints leading from the bed to the door. Speaking of which, being on this side of it, she saw marks of torn paint two feet or so up from the ground, like something small had desperately--yet fruitlessly--been scrabbling away at it. And not in a playful, silly way like her sister had minutes prior. This was a failed escape from what likely had been read as a life-threatening situation. Connecting dots formed an unpleasant picture in her head as Amy's gaze slowly dropped to the resting colt almost entirely hidden by pink hairs. Amy's mouth opened, then closed. With a jolt, she tore her stare away, having realized Redheart was looking at her. With cheeks aflame, her attention was drawn to an open notebook lying some feet away. Curious, she approached with a cocked head. The book was vaguely familiar--maybe she'd seen it earlier that day, when she'd come to get Heath for dinner? Amy hadn't gotten a good look at the picture he'd drawn, though. She'd been too distracted by him talking about... Amy beat those thoughts back with a shake of her head, igniting her horn with a pale blue glow. The notebook was levitated closer to her squinting purple eyes, which roved across the image in what dim light existed. Those eyes soon widened and she channeled more magic in efforts to make her horn brighter, all while furiously scanning the paper for every minute detail--of which there were surprisingly many. "... wow..." she breathed, almost without realizing. Amy jolted, though, when Redheart's voice tore through her trance and reminded her where she was. "What is it?" The unicorn turned to face her Alpha, but couldn't make herself look away from the art she had become so invested in. Depicted on the page of one of her spare notebooks was clearly a city street, framed by skyscrapers like the ones she'd seen in Manehattan when she'd tagged along on one of Minuette's business trips. The art was greyscale, shaded with pencil markings, which fit the dreary atmosphere of a rained-upon city sidewalk perfectly. Figures traveled across the pavement, holding umbrellas above their tall, lanky forms as shields from the heavens. The image seemed to come alive the longer Amy studied it. Blinking rapidly, she realized it'd been over a minute and she still had not answered. "It's a drawing. Heath was drawing when I came to get him yesterday. This..." she trailed off, once more enraptured by all the details. Almost as curious as the tall figures were the strange machines occupying the street. They resembled carriages like the ones popular in Manehattan, but without anything to pull them along. Amy's eyes wandered upwards as she pondered the art, but were then drawn to the very top of the page, where the underside of an umbrella was clearly depicted. That explains the perspective... "...How old did you estimate him to be, again?" Redheart hummed, shifting her penetrating stare to the colt in question, who mumbled something and inched closer in his sleep. Dinky had made herself comfortable at that point, leaning up against her front and shutting her eyes in like fashion. It wouldn't be long before the filly slipped into Princess Luna's realm of dreams, if only from boredom and there being nothing better to do. Also more than a little because Redheart's chest fluff was just that comfy. "Judging from his teeth and general size, the consensus was eight years. Is the drawing really that good?" The mare was skeptical, if her raised brow and slight frown were any indication. Amy nodded in response, every bit as surprised as her Alpha. "There's shading, perspective, a fully-developed background," she began, levitating the notebook over to be inspected by a pair of icy blue eyes. "The machines don't look like anything I've ever seen, so they must have been imagined. Same with the umbrella creatures. These things take a lot of skill--I'd never expect anything like this from anypony under twelve." The picture wasn't perfect, of course, but its blemishes and mistakes were overshadowed by everything positive and Redheart definitely seemed impressed. "It looks so..." the mare started, wrinkling her forehead as she studied the art in turn, "...dreary. Like there's no joy left. I'd hate to be there." Amy nodded along, but gazed vacantly at the wall with absent thoughts. This situation was quite curious. If Heath really was skilled enough to draw something like that, how could he be so young? She'd needed years of practice to reach that level and, though the unicorn had surpassed it now, she hadn't at his age to be sure. How could a little colt do something so advanced? Was he really as young as they thought? Amy found herself thinking back to her encounter with him, despite her own wishes. The look in his eyes, it still brought chills down her spine. The almost-victorious gleam as he sized her up. The casual frankness with which he addressed her, as if he was so used to that happening. The utter revulsion she'd felt when the dots connected. She couldn't even picture doing anything of the sort and yet he'd been so certain that-- "--Amy." The youth jolted again, spun to face her Alpha, and formed a shaky smile. Redheart's raised brow stayed northward for several seconds before her expression softened and she patted the carpet in front of her with her free leg. "Come sit. Let's talk." Those were the last words any teenager wanted to hear from a parental figure, but Amy obeyed all the same. Steadfast, she avoided glancing down at the troublesome lump as she crept by him, though she did spare a look at her slumbering sister. Dinky wasn't sleeping quite so heavily by the looks of it, but she wasn't one to snoop in business not concerning her. Tonight notwithstanding, that was. Amy settled herself down with the grace of a drunken seal, breathing shallowly as her eyes refused to focus. Across from her, Redheart ran a hoof through Dinky's yellow mane, brows creased. "You're still shaken. Did something happen before you went to get me?" The unicorn let out an airy chuckle, shaking her head in the negative. "Nothing more than you'd expect," Amy dismissed, waving a foreleg. "I'm sure you've been through the same thing with him. Probably worse." Redheart didn't seem convinced. Or, perhaps it was just that she knew Amy better than that. "It's affected you all the same. I'm sorry for what he must have said. It's partially my fault you went through that, after all." The mare waited expectantly for the youth to respond, but Amy dipped her head instead, unable to find the words. Even if she did figure out what to say, how to describe what he'd assumed she would do, no sound would make it past the lump in her throat. After a long pause, Redheart sighed. "Why don't you tell me how life is going? How's the internship with Rarity?" This was something Amy could discuss much more easily. It still took effort to speak, but keeping her thoughts on her employer helped a lot. "It's good. She's very talented at what she does and I learn more every day." With a deep breath as the knots in her barrel eased up, the youth managed a genuine smile. "I can see why she was chosen to be in charge of decorations for the celebration. I envy her artistic mind, sometimes." Redheart smiled back, her teeth glinting in the scant light from the window to the side. "Well, you're every bit as talented, too. You'll be helping her set everything up today, then?" A nod, then Amy reached back to grab her well-brushed tail, fiddling with its tip in her front hooves. A habit she'd had since she was little, it helped occupy her mind and focus her thoughts. Redheart noticed, if her deepening smile was any indication, but she knew better than to comment on it. "Yes. It's going to be a busy day, but Rarity said she had a lesson prepared to teach while we're working, so I'm looking forward to it." Indeed, Amy was already imagining just what they'd go over while hanging ribbons and the like all across town. Any number of things, really; her teacher could get quite creative with relating one thing to another. Redheart cocked her head to the side with a thoughtful expression. "Do you think--" she started, but cut herself off immediately when Heath stirred again at her side. This time, it was more than just readjusting himself in his sleep. The colt let out a soft whine and his brows creased, wrinkling his forehead. Redheart shifted, angling herself around him, and briefly looked back at Amy with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, but I have to take care of this. Can you..." Heath whimpered and started to shake. Redheart's attention was redirected in an instant as she gently lifted his body in her hooves. Amethyst Star stood, nodding, while the sleeping colt grew yet more agitated as time went on. "I'll take Dinky to bed," the filly lit up in a pale blue glow at the same time as the unicorn's horn and she swiftly opened the door. "I'll help Minuette downstairs, too. I'm sure she could use a hoof." Redheart nodded her thanks, now turned away completely as she focused on her charge. Amy left--almost eagerly--without further prompting, softly closing the door behind as she levitated Dinky ahead. Amy sighed in relief, knowing her Alpha had things under control. Few in Ponyville were as skilled as she in comforting males. Dropping Dinky off in her bedroom was easy, then the unicorn headed to the basement lab as promised. Stoically, she refrained from thinking about her new 'brother' in the slightest. Amy wanted no part in the trouble he was sure to bring, that was for sure. And she was sure that he was going to bring a lot of trouble.
Chapter Eight - Forging IronIron. A light blue mare stood by a table, poring over various papers. She squinted, shuffling them with her yellow-tinted magic. Designs, diagrams, and various mathematical equations fluttered every which way in her search. Everything froze seconds later, allowing a single envelope to slip out from the sheaths of paper. It fell to the table's bare wooden surface with a small 'tink' and the unicorn's eyes locked on its location. Smelting, hammering, forging. A breath, once held, released as she took the letter in her hooves and methodically opened the flap. She didn't notice it--had no reason to, in the first place. Her attention was on the paper, not the workings of her heaving lungs. Not on the creeping thoughts that lurked in the back of her mind. Not on the muffled voices from above or the creaking hoofsteps that accompanied them. Shaping iron. Unpleasant, but needed. Useful. Pure. Minuette pored over the letter. She made every effort to commit its words to memory. Once finished, she paid no mind to her sigh, too focused on sliding the paper back into its envelope. The flap folded back over, no creases appeared--no irregularities at all, save the slight bulge in the envelope--then it was shuffled back into the other papers. Minuette's aura died. She turned away from the table and trotted across the floor, towards a contraption set up in the middle of the basement. Necessary. Good, in a sense. Worthwhile? Minuette paused. The background thoughts intensified. She hesitated. She pondered. Then she shook her head. Remains to be seen. A shallow imitation of life when it came to machinery, but this experimental prototype got the idea across. Also half the size of the final product, at least according to the diagrams. Minuette couldn't even fit inside it, and she liked to think she was fairly slim. Instead, she stuck her foreleg inside its main body--a hollow, metallic cylinder that rattled a bit when she brushed it--and once more lit her horn. Iron. Quaint. The interface was simplistic, but in this case that stood as a good thing. These were the kind of controls anypony could use. Restricting it to professionals would be counterintuitive. Of course, a horn was still necessary at this point, but fixing that would be trivial. A few buttons, most likely, along with a readout. The data wouldn't be visible to non-unicorns otherwise. Such things were already in the plans. Minuette simply liked to ensure everything was thought of. She didn't need reassurance often. She was a fairly confident mare, all things considered. Today was an exception. There had been many mistakes made today. Iron. With a slight whirring sound, the contraption flared to life. There existed few other signs of this occurring. The main body shifted, the electric lights dimmed, and the mare's ear flicked. These were the only ways an outsider could tell anything had changed. Minuette's horn remained lit as the slightest crease appeared on her brow. The machine rumbled on. It took exactly eleven minutes and twelve seconds. Minuette stood perfectly still. Her foreleg tingled, but there were no other odd sensations. The lights brightened, the rumbling stopped, the mare's ear flicked again, and her machine was finished. She extracted her foreleg. Blue eyes roved emptily back and forth as she assessed the magical picture forming in her mind. Then, Minuette grinned. In a rapid explosion of motion, she all but leapt back to the table. Papers were rifled through with much more ferocity, now. When her spiral-bound notebook flopped out, she pounced on it with eagerness. Three different pencils, shrouded in bright yellow, flew to the page and began scribbling away at once. She might've even let out a squeak of excitement. Minutes after, the energy died back down. Unwanted thoughts once more plagued her mind. Minuette slumped. Her gaze latched back onto her prototype. It stayed there for some time. Then, the door to her basement laboratory creaked open. Another unicorn stepped through. Almost a carbon-copy of herself, the same manestyle and everything. They might've been twins save for the color and slight height difference. Amy's eyes swept the sizable laboratory. They grazed by the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and the tiled floor. They ignored the shelves of mechanical parts and the scrawling-covered whiteboard. They settled on a seated Minuette's slumped form. The door swung shut behind her as she trotted inside. The mare didn't move or shift her gaze. The youth approached, quite unfazed. "So, is this just one of those times, or is it being sad about what happened today?" Minuette almost smiled. Amy took notice all the same, grabbing and throwing a foreleg over her withers. With a heave, the mare was back to standing. Scant inches separated the two horns. Minuette didn't have long before she'd have a challenger in stature. She couldn't be prouder. She stood for a moment, contemplating. Then she turned back to the table. "Iron." Amy raised a brow, following. "Uh, element number... twenty-six, right? 'Fe'?" This time, Minuette couldn't stop a smile from creeping up her muzzle. A similar one appeared on the teenager's. After rummaging through the scattered papers again, the envelope was located. This time, the mare didn't open it. She just held it in her hooves and nodded. "Smelted iron. Strengthened iron. Solid, true." Amy eyed the envelope, then the mare. A crease formed on her brow. Her hoof tapped her chin as she thought. Minuette waited patiently. "So, like an alloy? Is this your way of answering 'both' to my question?" A pause, then a soft grunt. Minuette raised, then tilted her hoof in a 'sort of, not really' gesture. It was the same hoof that held the envelope. It fluttered and waved with the motion. Amy's ears did similarly, falling back against her skull. She joined her in sitting on the floor. "Herdmother, you're really smart. I know there's some deep analogy going on here. Could you maybe give me a better hint?" The request was reasonable. She nodded in answer. The letter was placed back on the table. "When a blacksmith forges something, she sets her crucible hot. The iron melts under such heat. It's broken down and unrecognizable." The words took effort. Minuette strained under the force of every vocalization. "The iron's pain isn't over. It has to be hammered. Molded." She intended--wanted--to say more, but fell silent. Amy gave an understanding nod. She appeared thoughtful. Minuette found herself glancing back at her prototype as she waited. "The iron has to endure harsh punishment," said Amy. "And it has no idea why. But in the end, it gets made into something much more valuable than what it was." The youth's gaze locked onto her herdmother. She'd noticed the prototype and decided not to pay it much mind. Not yet, at least. "This is interesting so far," she expressed, "but who does the iron represent?" Minuette paused only for a beat. "Heath," Amy recoiled. Minuette glanced at her, not finished. "And you," the teenager became even more confused. "And me. And..." She ran out of words. She could only gesture meaningfully. Amy's eyes slowly lit up. She understood. "Everypony. You're saying the mistakes we make, the challenges we face... make us better?" A nod. Smiles, then a wry grin. "You know, this allegory of yours implies the existence of a higher power, orchestrating everything." Minuette waved her hoof with dismissive vigor. "Faust, Destiny, Cutie Marks." Amy nodded, pondering. "Well, it certainly is optimistic. I do feel like it's a bit of a stretch to say hardship is a good thing." Amy switched her attention to the prototype before the mare could respond. The purple unicorn stood, making her way over to the machine, while the blue remained seated. "What's this, again? I remember you talking about a new design this morning." Minuette grunted. She looked back at the envelope on the table. "M.R.I." Was her answer. Amy prodded the thing with her hoof. She tilted her head, both at the contraption and her herdmother. "Standing for?" Another grunt. "Magical Resonance Imaging." Amy blinked. "...care to explain what that means?" An idea popped into Minuette's head. She raised it and stood. She turned and joined her daughter. Then she gestured to the machine and tapped her horn. Amy sighed good-naturedly, giving her a knowing look. "I should find out for myself, then?" A nod, then her horn lit up. Minuette once more stuck her foreleg in the main body. This time, she was much more excited. Amy's face scrunched. "This enchantment looks way more... simple than usual." A stolen peek revealed Minuette nodding in confirmation. The youth shrugged and closed her eyes to better focus. The M.R.I. prototype became wreathed in pale blue as Amy's magic suffused it. "Let's see... uh, that looks like an 'on' switch." Every tell from earlier returned as the machine powered on. Amy's ear even made a delayed little flick. Minuette grew giddier by the minute. Her foreleg began to tingle as Amy's facial scrunch intensified. "Well, it's definitely doing something. I--whoa!" The teenager cut herself off. The mare fought to keep still. Her hopes were aloft. Time crawled slowly until... "Is that... your leg?" Minuette nodded furiously, but went unseen. Amy waited a few more moments to analyze the mental picture. Then the machine powered down. Minuette removed her foreleg from the main body and sat eagerly before her daughter. She had to fight to keep her tail from wagging. Said daughter blinked her eyes open and regarded her with an eyebrow raised. "So, this 'M.R.I.' takes a... not a picture, really, but a scan? Of whatever you put inside? And that helps you find problems, I'm guessing?" Hummingbirds had evolved to hover, rather than fly. Their wings could reach speeds of seventy beats per second. The rapidity of Minuette's nodding didn't quite match that, but it came close. The beaming grin on her face could feasibly replace a lighthouse beacon, should the need arise. Amy didn't share her enthusiasm. It was because she didn't understand fully why this was needed. Still, the youth grew a smile just in watching her herdmother's glee. "Well, what else do you need help with?" At this, Minuette stood, gesturing over to the table. There was much more work to be done. With a helper around, her mood had taken a sizable upswing. The background thoughts had almost faded away. Whenever they spiked, she quelled them with one simple thought. Iron. A sudden noise jolted Minuette awake. She raised her head and glanced around, bleary-eyed. She was sitting atop a cushion next to her main worktable. She had been slumped down on various papers and a half-written response letter. It took several seconds for the mare to realize the sound had been a snort. A few after that, the realization came that it'd been her own. Minuette smacked her lips and gazed down at the table. She wiped up the small puddle of drool with her fetlock. She found her eyes landing on the spread-open letter. It was lying inches from her own. A blink, then her gaze was searching the basement lab instead. Something felt wrong. The mare stood, shaking her head. Her thoughts were beginning to coalesce again, which helped. Last night had been rough, but she was glad for Amy's presence and understanding. What was that metaphor she'd come up with? Iron? Minuette could get deep, sometimes. The mare stretched, steadily growing more... not aware, exactly, but present. Like when a crew of sailors returned to manning the ship after a lunch break. The break had been last night and the sailors her thoughts. ... or something like that. Even now, Minuette struggled to explain herself. Her self. Interesting... Do sailors even have lunch breaks? But that wasn't important, now. Having fully woken up, she realized what felt wrong; her stomach was growling, and protesting its pain quite insistently. Minuette could continue to work in spite of it--would even have done so, given the choice, but then Whoovsie would get all mad at her. Her stallion was cute when angry, but not enough so to overpower the guilt she faced when making him worry. It was morning, right? An analog clock hung on the far wall--one that in many ways was the basement's sole link to the rest of Equestria--said as much. Today was... Saturday. Something special nagged at her mind, but she brushed that aside and headed towards the stairs. Various animal species hibernated through the winter, entering a deep sleep to conserve energy and heighten chances of survival. Bears, in particular, came to mind at that moment--they took shelter in caves until the time came to reemerge and rejoin the rest of Equestria. Now, contrary to popular belief, bears didn't actually sleep during this time. Ponyville's resident animal caretaker, Fluttershy, had been quick to correct that while she was a client. But bears did lower their metabolisms and spend the winter exclusively in their caves, which was fairly close to sleep anyway. The point being, of course, that Minuette largely resembled a hangry bear emerging for the first time in months as she finished ascending the stairs. She didn't feel that way--supremely hungry, perhaps, but not disagreeable by any means--yet her bedhead, bloodshot eyes, moderate frown, and unsteady gait hardly attested to that. The mare stumbled her way to the dining room, bonking her horn and hooves on various corners as she went. Minuette was not a morning pony. Muffled voices and the sweet smell of fresh pancakes led the zombie-mare to the kitchen. With eyes half-closed she let her nose guide the way as she tried to blink awake. A pit stop to the hallway bathroom to splash some cold water in her face aided significantly, then Minuette continued left, towards the back of the house. Her ears twitched as she heard the ongoing conversation within just now becoming understandable. "... all I'm saying is, you ought to at very least consider it. Can't you trust my word when I say my town isn't out to get you?" Minuette rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, feeling the chill of the tiles against her sensitive frogs. A noise of acknowledgement from her husband let her know his general direction, but her eyes were too closed to make out anything save fuzzy blurs. "Why, hello, dear! How are you this fine morning?" Whoovsie's voice was chipper and light, but almost forcibly so, which was worrying. Minuette opened her muzzle to form a response, perhaps one that commented on his tone, but all that came out was a dry groan. She was about to clear her throat and try again, but a warm mug of steaming coffee was all but shoved in her face instead. The mare grabbed it in both forehooves and proceeded to chug, her eyes widening as energy flooded her system. "Better now, Min?" Minuette mustered the presence of mind to nod, even as the mug emptied and a fresh one was placed in her hooves. Then, another voice spoke. "I thought mares didn't need to sleep." Small and tremulous, but with a degree of petulance that was hard not to notice. Almost without thought, the mare's blue gaze traveled across her stallion--brown maned and tan-coated, with a spiky manestyle and eyes that sparkled with warmth--to the muted green colt sitting at the dining room table some feet away. Seated on a tall chair as he was, Heath could glare down at her with rebellious fire in his amber eyes. This being exactly what he was doing at the moment. Minuette gulped and glanced down, her hesitance potent. "Not quite accurate, good chap--they still need a few hours' worth. But Minnie here is known for neglecting even that! Isn't that right, dearest?" Time Turner's tone was far from accusatory--'affectionate' would have been more accurate--but the unicorn in question still gave a sheepish smile and nod. She avoided looking at the colt again, but only just. Instead, she headed for the kitchen counter, where a stack of fresh pancakes waited. Glancing around in vain, she gave a thankful nod at her husband's helpful: "Syrup's on the right," before grabbing the bottle in her magic. Minuette refrained from turning back around as she poured the syrup. Instead, she watched the substance gloop onto her breakfast, trying to think up a good simile to distract herself. She heard Time Turner's hoofsteps as he retreated back to the table, back towards Heath. That was good. The colt was petulant, irritated, willful. Intelligent, agitated, fitful. Minuette had seen the tightness of his posture, even in what brief glance she'd had. This child was terrified of her, of what she could--what he thought she would--do. It made her sick. Her pancakes seemed less appetizing every moment, but she forced the fork around in her telekinesis, anyway. Minuette wasn't even that empathetic in the first place; she often had trouble connecting with ponies, preferring to lose herself in her work. Her herdsisters doubtless had it worse off--well, Derpy did, at least. Nurse seemed to have connected quite well, but that was to be expected. Minuette sighed, levitating her clean plate to the kitchen sink, both males behind her speaking in hushed whispers. That look in Heath's eyes, it practically haunted her. Just imaging what could have happened to cause it, it made her want to beat the snot out of somepony, and she hardly considered herself prone to violence. As dishes, cutlery, and ingredients flew back to their respective homes, suspended in shimmering yellow, the mare's eyes landed on the bottle of maple syrup. Like painting a golden sunrise across a canvas of fluffy clouds? It was a stretch and she knew it, almost scoffing at herself. It did remind her, though, of a metaphor far more relevant and better thought through. Iron. Minuette smiled, feeling herself cheer up. She turned, finished with putting everything away, and locked eyes with her husband. She hesitated, discouraged by a still-terrified Heath, but soldiered on. "Where's everypony else?" Time Turner thought for a moment, tapping his chin with a hoof. Heath was leaning out from the chair and into his side, most of his weight on the stallion. Noticing this, he gently wrapped his forelegs around the colt and brought him to the tile floor. Heath took shelter behind Minuette's husband immediately, staring her down while he began to answer. "Amy is helping set up for the Celebration--we'll have to meet up with her before sundown. Muffins is taking Dinks around to see everything and finish some deliveries. I do believe..." Whoovsie pondered some more, seemingly oblivious to Heath pressing himself ever tighter against his lower back. Minuette blinked and tried to apologize with her expression, but the colt's ears flattened and he only continued to stare. "... Nurse left a few minutes ago to check up on some business at the hospital. She neglected to share details with me, but should be back soon." The tan stallion smiled, that same shining smile he was infamous for and that stole her heart more every time she saw it. "Until then, it's just the three of us! Don't we make a terrific trio?" Minuette smiled back, but the expression was short-lived; Heath grew yet more nervous--perhaps thanks to the reminder--and Turner's attention was back on him in an instant. The colt was scowling at her, but shivering all over. She wasn't fooled by his aggression, more worried for his safety. He could sprain something if he kept at it like that, but luckily, Turner's calming gestures seemed to be helping. "Who the hay is 'Nurse'?" The stallion wrapped his forelegs around the foal, stroking his back. Heath's amber eyes never left Minuette's blue form, though his quaking did abate somewhat when she moved away, towards a window. "Redheart's full name is 'Nurse Redheart,'" Whoovsie explained patiently. "Her first name is 'Nurse'. The situation became rather puzzling when she received her doctorate, though. In the interest of preventing mass confusion, she goes by her last name." For a moment, quick though it was, Heath seemed to become so puzzled by this information that he forgot to be scared. "So, she's Doctor Nurse Redheart?" He said, clearly reeling from the absurdity, but both Minuette and Time Turner nodded in confirmation. The colt spent a few moments blinking, digesting this, while the mare checked outside. Their front yard was empty, as was the connecting street, but she could see ponies milling around in the distance and pegasi flitting about in the sky. When Minuette turned to look back at the males under her current supervision, she saw them again muttering in low voices to each other. Curious and concerned in equal measure, her ears swiveled forward as she leaned in slightly. Neither of them noticed and, while her stallion knew enough about the equine range of hearing to keep himself inaudible, Heath was loud enough to be heard. "She can do anything she wants to us. To me. Nopony would stop her. You couldn't stop her." Time Turner appeared about to disagree, but the colt cut him off. "Could you stop her? If she set her mind to it, could you do literally anything?" Silence, which was all the answer Heath needed. Turner's mouth became a thin line, while the colt's dour frown became a scowl. Minuette's ears drooped back. She slumped to the floor, looking away. Her new family member thought that she'd soon attack. This was going to be quite the day. "No, I won't have you insult my wife like that. Sit right there and watch." The mare's eyes widened as, before she could think, Whoovsie stood and approached her, looking back at a colt who was just as shocked as she was. "Minuette is a lovely mare--the first I pledged myself to, in fact. I won't sit by while you imply she'd do... things." With that, he firmly grasped both sides of her face and yanked it in for a kiss. She could have easily pulled away; no stallion's strength was enough to hold even the weakest of mares, after all. She didn't, though, obviously. The only reason Minuette didn't reciprocate immediately was surprise, but the whinny died in her throat after a few moments and she leaned in instead. Turner was wonderful. Her husband was wonderful. She closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy him for a few seconds, forgetting about anything else. This was right, this was good. Her lips formed a smile against his, which did the same. Warmth blossomed in the mare's barrel as they broke the kiss, rubbing their foreheads together. All the sadness from a minute ago was entirely forgotten. It seemed like stormy skies were replaced by sunny weather. Her lover was caring, good, and soft like cotton. She would protect him. That fire every mare had for her stallion burned bright within her. She knew he felt it, that he was comforted by it. She, in turn, heard his wordless apology and accepted it. No implications from Heath would ever overpower this. She could handle things from him, was determined to help as best she could. Whoovsie understood this message and nodded, then pulled away. They turned as one, only to see a stunned colt with tears welling up in his eyes. "What... the hay was that?!" Both adults blinked. The child sat, heavily. "You... you just..." Heath sniffled, wiping his nose with a fetlock. "You looked so happy, I..." He stared right at Time Turner with a strange expression, some mix of confusion, betrayal, and a bit of hope. The stallion was suddenly very unsure of himself, glancing inquisitively at Minuette. The mare, for her part, gave a little shrug. "W-why... why..." Heath drooped to the floor, burying his muzzle in his forelegs. The next words out of his mouth were under a whisper. "Why wasn't it that way for me?" Spurred into action, Time Turner all but leapt at the colt, heaving him into a full-body hug. Minuette's ears swiveled, detecting the front door as it creaked open. She opted to leave the two to it and headed for the foyer instead of staying to try and help. Nurse was there, turned away and brushing some leaves out of her wavy mane with a hoof. It was rare to see those pink locks outside of a tight bun, but Minuette pushed that thought out and refocused. "You're just in time, Red. Heath could really use you right now." I don't know what to do or how to help. This thought went unspoken but, when Redheart spun and locked eyes with her, she seemed to get the right idea. "Where?" Pointing, the unicorn breathed out a sigh. "The kitchen." It was as simple as that. 'Comforting duty' was officially foisted onto somepony more capable. Minuette tried to dismiss her disappointment in herself, knowing intellectually that this really was out of her hooves. Until Heath trusted her enough to not expect she'd ra... well... there wasn't much she could do. Minuette considered returning to her basement to work on her project--that letter did still need to get finished, after all. But another thought occurred to her, one that would not allow that course of action. The Celebration is tonight. She would have to get ready. Princess Luna herself was coming to visit humble little Ponyville, after all. The only question was, would Heath be joining them? "So, this 'celebration,' as you call it, gets held annually in various locations in honor of, in your own words, 'Her Divine Majesty Princess Luna?'" The disdain in these words was heavier than the moon itself, but Redheart nodded without a single care. The doctor didn't even break stride, continuing on the path to Ponyville's town hall. Time Turner trotted along on her right, hustling a bit to keep up and so close that their sides regularly brushed. Minuette, situated on her Alpha's left, was much farther and able to make out Amy rolling her eyes in the back. A scolding look communicated her chastisement, but the youth simply looked away. Heath adjusted himself atop Redheart's back, letting his stubby forelegs drape across her broad shoulders. "Why am I not surprised that there's a female ruler?" He seemed about to say more, perhaps some biting remark, but fell silent at the last moment. Minuette had to admit, she was curious as to what he would have said--especially with such a strange reaction. His disrespect towards Princess Luna, a mare she'd once been a direct student under, was nigh on unbearable, but she could forgive it. Whoovsie was the one to speak next. "Why, you sound like you've never heard of the Princess before, good chap! You did say you used to live in Manehattan, unless I'm mistaken?" The stallion's voice held only curiosity, but Heath showed no intention of responding. He only shuffled a bit, looking uncomfortable enough that the point was soon dropped. Derpy, walking on Turner's right with an excited Dinky on her back, apparently saw fit to interject. "I promise it'll be a lot of fun! The princess raises the moon in front of everypony, brighter than any other night! It's said that whoever sees it personally has good dreams for a whole week!" While the colt seemed slightly intrigued by this last bit, he still fixed her with an unimpressed glare. "I'm only coming along to prove a point. When, not if, some mare--maybe you--grabs me and takes off, I'll know for a fact just how twisted this place is." Derpy wilted like a dried flower and glanced away, saddened. Dinky reflexively threw her forelegs around her mother's neck, nuzzling into her withers with adorable ferocity. Redheart finally turned her head, locking eyes with her passenger, a hardness in her expression. "I won't let that happen, Heath. I don't expect you to not be afraid, but you need to believe me when I say that." The colt shakily gulped, then nodded. She held his gaze a few moments longer, then returned to leading her herd to their destination. It'd taken the whole day to convince him to come, and Heath had only agreed so long as they stayed on the outskirts and didn't engage with anypony. His hesitance and fear were apparent, but so was a... difference of sorts in how he acted. If Minuette had to guess, she'd say her little kiss with Whoovsie had planted something in him, like a little seed of doubt. He might've even felt some of her fire, and was definitely feeling Redheart's right now. But Heath had made it very clear to everypony else in the herd that this was a one-time deal, that he fully expected something terrible to happen, and that he would not be leaving Redheart's back for the duration of the Celebration. Very clear. Minuette knew this was a step in the right direction. If trips outside like this could become a regularity, the colt might eventually realize that nopony was out to get him. The road would be rough, but he'd eventually learn to trust his protectors. The unicorn certainly looked forward to the day when he could feel safe around her; being the object of somepony's fear was hardly a good feeling. Yes, the road would be rough, but hardship was meant to improve. Iron. Minuette found her optimistic smile returning as her herd entered Town Hall, just in time to catch the last bits of Mayor Mare's introduction. Craning their necks to see over the mass of heads, they situated themselves in the outskirts, towards the back. Derpy took flight, likely both to give herself and Dinky a better view as well as make more room for the others. The crowd was tight, but Minuette and Amy were able to position themselves in a perimeter of sorts, clearing space for Redheart and Turner between them. "And so, fillies and gentlecolts, without further ado, I now present Her Divine Majesty Princess Luna!" Ponyville Town Hall erupted with cheering and stomping hooves as the cream-coated mayor grandly stepped to the side of the stage, gesturing to the closed curtains behind her. Minuette watched with bated breath, internally wondering how much their beloved ruler might've changed since she'd last seen her. Abruptly, though, her eagerness turned into shock. The massive audience's applause became loud gasps of horror. The curtains had parted, revealing not a regal Princess of Night, but a barren stage. "She's gone!" Cried somepony, as horrified gasps made way for frantic murmuring. Before mass panic could break out, however, the sun--which Minuette could swear had been much lower in the sky before---flashed mightily. Everypony was left blinking and, when their vision cleared, a majestic, terrible figure stood on the stage in place of their Princess. A tall, slender build that nonetheless displayed incredible strength and power. Black pits for eyes, with flaming pupils that burned with emotion. Enormous, feathery wings spread wide in a dominant posture. A long, spiraling horn that stuck out at least three feet from the head. Radiant white fur that seemed to glow in the increased light of the sun. Its--Her--mane and tail were literal flame, a dark orange color that matched her fearsome regalia. It seemed like the whole crowd shrunk away from this creature, this pony, while she stood there and surveyed them for several seconds. Finally, a wicked grin formed on the alicorn's face and she stepped forward with one powerful flap of her wings. "Greetings, beloved subjects! You may not know of me, but I remember you." The grin intensified, turning predatory. Minuette noticed the glint of fangs, even as she moved to stand in front of Amy, Redheart, and Time Turner. "It has been quite some time since I was last around. Allow me to introduce myself." The terrible creature took flight, rending the air and sending pegasi tumbling away as she spread her legs. "My name is Daybreaker!" Manic laughter exploded from the mare, echoing around the building and making ears splay against heads. Colts and stallions everywhere were getting ushered into circles of mares. A glance back revealed Heath laying flat on Redheart's back, both forelegs squeezing her neck. Time Turner was equally close, with a fearful expression to match. Derpy had landed and joined the huddle, pressing against the stallion's other side. When Minuette's gaze returned, she saw a vaguely familiar purple unicorn left standing alone in the center of Town Hall. "I know who you are!" Minuette even recognized her voice from somewhere. Had she also been a student at Princess Luna's school? "I read the tales and saw the signs. I'm going to stop you, Daybreaker!" This brave soul was only given enough time to light her horn. Daybreaker sneered down at her, a fiery force of nature glaring down a mere insect. Her horn lit, then a beam of flames and light rushed down and smote this rebellious pony. When the attack faded away, only charred, smoking carpet remained. And maniacal laughter once more rang in their ears.
Chapter Nine - The Break Of DooDerpy Hooves was not a panicky mare. Now, this didn't mean she couldn't have her moments; far from it, as many in the town could testify. In defiance of her wishes, packages were sometimes delivered late, her husband got into all sorts of trouble building his machines, and Dinky was always looking for the next most dangerous adventure. Derpy Hooves had every right to be anxious about these things and more and, really, it was a testament to her steadiness of mind that she was as moderate as she was in her responses. Now, Derpy Hooves hadn't always been this way. It had taken many years of effort and habit-building to make this steady of an emotional state. Relapses were very rare, but they did happen, especially if she was forced to dwell on her eyes for too long. Too long, and she'd remember why they were that way. Too long, and the steadiness she'd worked so hard to obtain would become forfeit. Derpy Hooves had a wonderful herd to help her through things, but Derpy Hooves sometimes couldn't stop herself from wondering. From remembering. From fearing... None of that mattered now. Twilight Sparkle was dead. Derpy Hooves had only met the mare briefly, when she'd been grouching through town earlier, but that didn't mean she was okay with watching her get incinerated. It hadn't even been a moment, she was just gone. No, no, she must've teleported. That's why there was a flash. Right? Surely, no protégé of Princess Luna could just be extinguished like that. Daybreaker, that horrible caricature of an alicorn, was maniacally laughing for only a few moments before the horrified screaming broke out. It was mainly stallions and colts causing the din as their herds rushed to vacate them from the building. Heath wasn't among their number, but he was clearly just as scared, staring at the flaming pony with his mouth agape and amber eyes wide. Heath continued to clutch onto Redheart from his place upon her back, so Derpy Hooves didn't worry too much about him. Derpy Hooves was much more concerned with her husband, Time Turner. He was less scared, but also couldn't simply hitch a ride on Redheart's back. Redheart could definitely carry the two of them, but that would take more time to figure out than they had. Instead, Minuette affixed herself to Time Turner's right shoulder while Amethyst Star took his left. Dinky tightened her hold around Derpy Hooves' neck, gasping softly. With everypony accounted for, Derpy Hooves spun in the air and angled herself towards the doors. All together, the herd rushed outside Town Hall. They'd stayed near the back, so their frantic exit didn't take very long. Daybreaker continued to cackle behind them and Derpy Hooves' ears reflexively flattened. Once out on the street, Redheart was quick to spin in place, scanning the outside of the building. Heath clutched her neck tightly, pressing his face against her withers as he stared blankly into her fur. Time Turner was ushered beside and behind the Alpha. His eyes were wide open and he seemed short of breath as he leaned into Minuette's side. The herd edged backwards, quickly at first, but gradually slowing down as ponies continued to pour out of Town Hall. Heath was muttering something Derpy Hooves couldn't hear and, for a while, nopony else said anything. The world seemed to hold still as she processed the shock of what had just happened. Princess Luna: missing, with no hint of where she could be or why she hadn't been there. Twilight Sparkle: AWOL, presumably a fair distance away or wherever she'd instinctively teleport. Daybreaker: A massive threat that was currently swooping through the air, cackling after bursting through Town Hall's wall. The alicorn's focus was elsewhere, not on Derpy Hooves' herd at the moment, but that was liable to change. Redheart clearly thought the same thing; she broke into a gallop in the opposite direction and everypony else was quick to follow. Derpy Hooves' prerogative was to get her family to safety. Once Time Turner, Dinky, and Amethyst were holed up in their basement or somewhere similar, she could work on helping others. Ponyville didn't have many stallions, but it didn't have much of a militia, either. She'd likely be one of the only lines of defense, which would be crucial if Daybreaker decided to be destructive. The grey pegasus glanced back as she flapped through the air, following her grounded family. Dinky, on her back, had her eyes shut tight and was clutching her neck quite hard, but Derpy Hooves looked past that. She could still see the fallen alicorn behind them, but to her relief, the thing seemed mostly occupied in cackling and watching all the panicking ponies. No destruction yet, aside from the massive hole in Town Hall. Luna willing, everypony could get out of this without any serious injuries. Redheart led the retreat back to their home, weaving through the streets and keeping a steady pace. Amy ran alongside her father, while Minuette brought up the rear. Nopony had said anything yet, but there was still a mutual agreement to get back to their home as soon as possible. Between her measured wingbeats, Dinky whimpering, and the rush of wind in her ears, Derpy Hooves didn't hear much of anything. Her herd was all accounted for, her duties as a mare were being fulfilled, there was little to worry about. Perhaps, with these factors, there was good reason for her not to notice until it was too late. Derpy Hooves' wandering eyes locked onto Heath, a warning making its way up her throat far too late to matter. She could only watch in slow motion as the colt, with Luna only knew what idiotic instinct taking hold of his logical thinking, turned, stood, and leapt off Redheart's back in one burst of frenzied movement. The Alpha immediately skidded to a halt, whipping around with reaction time that matched a Wonderbolt's. Derpy Hooves dove, trusting Dinky to grip tight, wide yellow eyes never leaving their target. The rest of the herd slowed to a halt, watching with horrified expressions. Heath eventually came to a stop after tumbling across the ground. Derpy Hooves was first to reach him, landing heavily and rushing to staunch the blood. Minuette conjured up a cloth and she grabbed that, pressing it firmly into the colt's shoulder. Redheart arrived soon after, cursing loudly. She stomped her forehooves into the ground a few times, then pressed them together and rubbed until they began to softly glow. Wreathed in pink light, they wrapped around the foal's much smaller legs and gently held on. Heath stared blankly ahead through all of it, practically catatonic. He'd had the presence of mind to cover his head as he tumbled, thank the stars, but the damage was still significant; leg bones badly fractured and puncture wounds from the cobblestone road all over. Heavy bruising seemed to be the least of it, but no head injuries and both mares counted their blessings. Redheart worked fast. Derpy helped lift and adjust the colt's body at different times as the doctor ran her healing hooves along it. The effect was instantaneous, truly incredible to watch. Bones knit themselves back together, bruises faded to nothing, open wounds healed as though zipped closed like a jacket. It happened quickly, but not as fast as they'd prefer. "Is he... gonna be okay...?" Amethyst's hesitant voice was first to break the silence. The others had drawn nearer, but thankfully stayed out of the way. Redheart made no reaction and kept working, but Derpy Hooves glanced back at her and gave a reassuring smile. "Yes. Alpha has it handled." Abruptly, Heath shuddered and blinked, jolted out of his daze. The colt's face immediately morphed into a pained grimace, but he didn't scream like Derpy Hooves expected and only groaned. The pegasus locked eyes with him, keeping that reassuring smile as Redheart continued to work her literal magic. "It's okay, Heath. You're gonna be fine." The colt didn't even acknowledge her. He stared straight up, unblinking, with shrunken pupils that betrayed his shock. "She killed her." Derpy Hooves blinked, her brows creasing as she felt Dinky get levitated off her back. She gave Minuette a thankful nod, now able to take a deep breath without the filly squeezing her neck. "Who, Daybreaker? Twilight?" At his nod, she shook her head. "No, no no, Twilight's fine. Don't worry, she teleported." This caused him to finally glance her way and the haunted look in his amber eyes gave Derpy Hooves chills. "Are you certain?" She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. Just then, Redheart took a step back and puffed a breath out. She reached up and wiped some sweat from her brow with a still-glowing hoof, searching Heath's body for any remaining injuries. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" Came her gruff inquiry as she panted softly. The colt finally blinked, his grimace gone as he laid there, facing the sky. He seemed vaguely surprised, and eventually shook his head in the negative. Everypony let out relieved breaths as Derpy Hooves helped him stand and Redheart leaned against her shoulder. Heath shook out his healed legs and edged away from her touch, shooting Derpy Hooves a scathing glare as Time Turner stomped up from behind. "And just what were you thinking, young stallion!?" Heath jolted at the stern voice, whipping around to look up at his enraged foster father. "Leaping off a running mare's back like that!?" The colt shuffled his hooves, suddenly lacking in anything resembling confidence. "Uh, I--um..." He stuttered before being swept up in a tight hug. Tears streamed down Whoovsie's face as he nuzzled with ferocity. "You could've died!" The heartbreaking scene lasted a good while. Everypony not involved shuffled somewhat awkwardly, except for Redheart, who rested heavily against Derpy Hooves for balance as she regained spent energy. Amy actively looked away, while Minuette situated Dinky on her back and cooed at the two. Derpy Hooves stood supporting her Alpha, at once watching both her other herd members in turn and back the way they'd come for any followers. Heath didn't seem very enthused through all of it on the outside, but Derpy Hooves could read enough to know just how deeply he appreciated the affection. This was par for the course with her stallion: a bleeding heart if she ever knew one, and they loved him for it. "While sweet, cuddles and explanations can wait until later." Redheart strode over to Turner who, with some reluctance and coaxing, returned Heath to his spot on her back. "Let's get home, preferably before the fiery sun demon catches up." Nodding and general agreeance followed this statement and the Alpha turned to lead the way again. Derpy Hooves spread her wings and prepared to fall in line, but stopped in her tracks when Redheart turned back to look at her. "Derpy, you should go help the other townsponies. They need you more than we do." Immediately, every fiber of the pegasus' being wanted to protest. She belonged here, with her family, protecting them from danger! How could she possibly leave without knowing they were safe? Her muzzle opened, an objection ready, only for Time Turner to place his hoof on her withers and his chin on her neck. "We'll be okay," he mumbled, pecking her muzzle with a soft smile. "You should go." Derpy Hooves looked around one final time and only saw affirming nods, which made her heave a reluctant sigh. But, she spread her wings and went. "Princess Luna!" An elegant dark blue figure stood poised in a small crater. The word 'regal' came to mind when gazing upon Her Majesty, then quickly became inadequate. A tall, spiraled horn that reached up from her skull to pierce the heavens, graceful, groomed wings that like an owl's made no noise, even her heavy Darksteel plating bore an astonishing degree of splendor, if only because it was her that wore it. There was no question: Princess Luna was a sight to behold. Just not one Derpy Hooves had expected after Daybreaker's surprise entrance. The gray pegasus landed heavily in front of her ruler, utter confusion written plainly across her face. "What... are you doing here? Why weren't you in Town Hall?" But the princess merely waved a hoof, brushing past her as she scanned the skies. "There's no time to discuss my agenda. Daybreaker is free, yes?" Derpy Hooves recognized the urgency in Luna's voice and snapped to attention, nodding in affirmation. Luna sighed, spreading her wings and giving them a few test flaps. "Then we must be swift. Have you already gathered the militia?" Derpy Hooves nodded again, but opted to elaborate. "Yes. We've been helping evacuate the civilians and mitigate damages. We haven't been able to engage Daybreaker directly, though." Luna gave one firm nod, then shot up into the sky. Derpy Hooves was quick to follow and they both located a hovering Daybreaker relatively quickly. Scattered members of Ponyville's militia--every last one exclusively a pegasus--spotted their princess in the air and abandoned what they were doing to immediately follow. By the time Princess Luna confronted Daybreaker some fifty feet above the ground, a veritable swarm of militia members--Derpy Hooves included--had surrounded them both. Daybreaker smiled as everypony approached, some even drawing weapons. She glanced down at the street for a few moments, almost as though searching for something. Then, a quick, almost-imperceptible bright flash emitted from her horn and she raised a foreleg, pointing it at Luna. "Ap-up-up! You're going to hear me out and not come any closer." Princess Luna glared, lowered her head as her elegant wings beat against the sky, and replied with gritted teeth: "And why is that?" Daybreaker smiled and her horn blazed to life. Derpy Hooves' heart dropped straight into her barrel. Gasps rang out from both her and the other militia members, all while Luna's eyes widened and she dropped a few inches. "Because," said the fiery creature, levitating a squirming chartreuse colt whom Derpy Hooves recognized all too well, "I have a hostage!" Daybreaker giggled a bit, magically waving Heath around in the air to reinforce her point. "You wouldn't want anything terrible to happen to him, now would you?" Princess Luna made a calming gesture, though whether it was directed at the fallen alicorn or the members of Ponyville's militia, Derpy Hooves couldn't say. She couldn't do much of anything at this point, really. Derpy Hooves was able to restrain herself, but only just. "Very well, Daybreaker," called the princess in a voice far too tranquil for the situation. "What are your demands?" The beast in question scoffed, throwing her forelegs open as she hovered in the air. "Demands? I simply wish to talk! Or has the Great Dreamgiver Luna fallen so far that civil discussion is beneath her?" Derpy Hooves struggled to pay attention to anything else. She found her eyes, both of them, had locked onto the flailing foal she was responsible for. Heath was held in Daybreaker's dark orange aura, levitating far above the ground. If he fell, chances weren't great she'd be able to catch him in time. With the way he was writhing and the alicorn's focus largely elsewhere, this was too great a possibility. She tried to get his attention, to motion him to stop struggling so much, but to no avail. Heath, evidently, was out of it. The longer this went on, the more dangerous it'd get. Derpy Hooves needed to do something, but what? "You've become far too soft, dear Luna. This nation has suffered for it, and I can no longer stand to watch." Daybreaker flapped ever closer to the princess, who hovered a short distance away and just below eye level. "All I ask is that you give the throne back. Sounds reasonable, no? Allow me to rule, or I'll burn everything in this wretched country to the ground." The creature grinned, toothily and with malice. "You know you couldn't stop me." Princess Luna was silent for several moments. For a time, nothing much further occurred. With anxiety, Derpy Hooves kept watching Heath as he tumbled around in the air, kicking wildly off to Daybreaker's side. It seemed, in those moments, that the world only held the four of them. "You wouldn't hurt anypony. Not again." Princess Luna's regal, soft voice broke the silence and the moment. It was slight, but Daybreaker's eyes widened and she reeled back a little. Derpy Hooves did similarly, having not expected this reply. "I know that even more, dear sister." Stunned by this revelation, Derpy Hooves blinked rapidly at the same time that Daybreaker's expression soured. She pulled Heath in a little closer, gesturing to his tumbling form. Everypony tensed in the air. "You sound so sure of that, 'sister', yet you still respect my hostage situation. Why bother to listen if I wouldn't hurt this foal anyway?" She stretched a foreleg out while her magic tightened, locking Heath in an upright position. With the ripples in the air above Daybreaker's body, Derpy Hooves could only imagine how much heat radiated from the 'alicorn'. She could only watch that blazing hoof grow ever nearer to Heath's contorted face. Could only wish for something to do. Daybreaker's sneer intensified. "What if I'm different, now? What if I've changed, sister? Perhaps I've simply stopped caring as much." The 'alicorn' locked eyes with Luna, glaring mightily for the world to see. "Can you really take that chance?" Princess Luna remained stoic, as she always had. Then, Derpy Hooves felt her stomach drop as Daybreaker glanced over at her. "Can your subjects?" Derpy Hooves had had chills down her spine before. This wasn't that. Nothing about Daybreaker could give a pony chills. She felt her mouth dry up. She felt the sun beat down upon her. Felt vulnerable, like there was nowhere to hide. Derpy Hooves was scared--terrified, really. It felt like all hope was lost. It felt like there was nothing she could do to help, either herself or her country or her herd or anypony. For the first time in a long time, Derpy Hooves was panicking and it felt like her downward spiral had no end in sight. Then, she remembered. Her muzzle opened, unleashing a savage war cry. Wings that once flapped helplessly now shot out and beat upon the air. She returned Daybreaker's stare, glaring back with the vitriol of a warrior scorned. She was snarling, all but frothing at the mouth as she lunged through the sky. Luna had to hold her back as Daybreaker reeled away, shocked. The 'alicorn' eyed her up and down, surprise turning to satisfaction. "Oooh, I like this one," the fiery figure said, grinning and turning to Luna. "I had no idea you were making soldiers this... ferocious." Ditzy's yellow eyes burned with hate. "Maybe I was wrong about you going soft!" Restrained by a regal blue glow, Ditzy could do little but hang there. Luna's stoic mask finally cracked, but the only emotion that shone through it was lethargy. "Daybreaker, please," Ditzy had never heard her princess sound so tired, "release the colt. I shall continue to hear you out, on my word. Nopony need be gravely injured this day." The leg that had been outstretched now tapped at its owner's chin. Daybreaker considered this while Heath continued to dangle and Ditzy stayed locked in place. The other militia members watched from afar, nothing but blurry shapes to her laser-focused eyes. "Very well, then. I guess I'll have to let him go." And suddenly Heath was dropping like a stone back to the earth. Ditzy lunged against her restraints, gasping and reaching uselessly. Other pegasi dove, but they were too far away to possibly reach him in time. The colt's wings flapped as he fell through the air, practically decorations for all the good they did. He screamed, was wreathed in a familiar blue glow, then teleported with a pop safely in Luna's forelegs. Princess Luna worked with brisk efficiency. She pulled one of the other pegasi aside--Blossomforth, that was her name--and gave some hushed instructions. Ditzy could scarcely think through the red in her vision, but she listened to her princess when she yanked her around and spoke harsh commands to the grey mare's snarling face. "Disengage and lead this mare to your herd," Luna ordered, placing a shivering Heath in Blossomforth's forelegs. "The colt is hers, correct?" This she asked the other pegasus, seeing as Ditzy was unable to answer. Blossomforth blinked, cradled the foal gently, and nodded. A quick spell stilled him, then Luna released her hold on Ditzy. "Go home. I shall handle things here." Ditzy wanted to protest. Ditzy wanted to tear the threat limb from limb. Ditzy wanted to bring honor to her name through glorious, bloody victory. What Ditzy wanted wasn't important. She had her orders, and no amount of blind rage would stop her from following them. "And, Ditzy," Luna added as the two began to flap away, "do try to calm down." Daybreaker watched all of this with a lazy interest. She watched the pegasi retreat back to the ground. She continued to watch as they headed down the emptied street. Ditzy watched her right back, tracking the 'alicorn' with one eye until she faded from view. Rage, uncontrollable fury still burned inside Ditzy. There would be no outlet, no exit for it except the slow simmer back down to room temperature. She wasn't safe to be around at the moment. She wasn't able to hold her own foster child, lest an accident happen. She hadn't been this way in a long time. She'd thought this behavior was behind her. She'd been doing so well recently. Ditzy stewed in anger at both her enemy and herself as she led Blossomforth back to her home. Blossomforth probably knew where she lived already, so there wasn't much point to it. Orders were orders, though. "For what it's forth, Ditzy," Blossomforth's tenuous voice snapped the grey mare from her musing, "I'm sorry." Ditzy glanced back at her fellow Ponyville militia member. Blossomforth's expression was wry, regretful, understanding. She understood. Empathized, even. Ditzy landed heavily on the ground and she was quick to follow, smoothly transferring Heath to balance on her back instead. Ditzy was still angry, but suddenly so very tired, too. Her only response was a weak nod, to which her partner nodded right back. For the second time that hour, Ditzy Doo traveled home. The weight of her memories rested heavily upon her withers, pressing the pegasus down into the street. Her wings drooped, as did her ears and tail, all faltering like flags at half-staff. Still the rage remained, evident in her raised hackles and bristling fur. Blossomforth trotted along at her side, supportive, though distant. One of Ditzy's eyes locked onto Heath, balanced securely between the other mare's wings. Her other eye remained pointed ahead, guiding her plodding, heavy steps. The colt was soundly asleep, at least for the moment; Princess Luna had no equals when it came to dream magic. Still, this experience would doubtless be remembered, and not with fondness. Yet another mark on the foal's psyche, as well as her own. Failure made Ditzy's muzzle crinkle in a snarl. She grimaced an ugly grimace and turned away, marching onward. Movement from ahead drew Ditzy's attention next. Peering up, she made out the familiar form of her Alpha Herdsister frantically barreling down the street like a loose freight train. Ditzy raised a wing high, drawing Redheart's attention and causing her to immediately change course for the two of them. Ditzy came to a stop and watched her close the distance. Blossomforth halted also, positioned a little behind her, but not such that she couldn't see the other pegasus' sizable unease. Granted, that reaction was hardly inexcusable, especially given the manic mare charging their way and the precious cargo Blossomforth carried on her back. "Derpy!" Redheart all but screamed, "Have you seen Heath?! He disappeared out from under me, I swear I had no--" Ditzy turned her head and looked meaningfully at Blossomforth, who waved her hoof with the awkwardness of a schoolfilly giving her first class presentation. Redheart locked onto her, then the snoozing colt on her back, all while her mouth formed an acute 'O'. Without further comment Ditzy's Alpha strode forward, holding a hoof out. Blossomforth understood the message completely and it took a mere few seconds for the 'goods' to be exchanged. Ditzy watched everything through the red in her vision, still periodically clenching her teeth and blowing steam through her nostrils. "Derpy, you--oh," Redheart cut herself off again, but still subconsciously slung her new passenger across her withers like some tacky fur scarf. Her pink mane, thoroughly disheveled and in need of a good brushing, had broken free of its usual neat bun and now tangled itself expertly around each of sleeping Heath's six limbs. "Oh, that's not good. We need to get you home." Ditzy Doo nodded, her nose still wrinkled in a sneer and grey wings still out and twitching. Crackling with unspent charge. She dared not speak, lest enraged screaming wake or scare the colt. Ditzy wished she could calm down. That was really all she wanted, in that moment. Still, her eyes continued to swivel and her blood continued to burn. Her brain, that useless lump of meat, kept remembering what had happened in the past whenever she let her guard down. So, she kept raging. Kept hating. It felt wrong, but good, too. The three of them continued home in abject silence. Blossomforth didn't really have a good reason to follow, but she'd muttered something about "making sure the three of you get home safe" and nopony had deemed it worth arguing. With their destination in sight and approaching fast, Heath finally saw fit to shake off his magically-compelled slumber. Ditzy tracked him, all but glaring, with one eye while the other focused on navigating the cobbled path. Practically restrained in Redheart's mane, there was little the colt could do aside from opening his eyes and staring back. Ditzy expected fear. What she hadn't prepared for was awe. "You... use anger." Redheart's ears swiveled back while Ditzy's perked upright. Heath smiled, his amber eyes practically shining in worship. "Rage. Hate. Fury. They're strong." Reaching up, he brushed a tangled lock of Redheart's mane out of his face. He never broke the stare, nor shifted away from that haunting smile. "You must feel so... strong." Ditzy blinked, shocked at first. Then her scowl intensified. The rage boiled over and she all but hissed her words out: "You think I feel strong!?" Ditzy charged closer, glaring deeply into those idiotic amber eyes. "You think I like this!?" Heath didn't recoil, only staring back in silent challenge. Something about that rebellious expression felt like a sharp slap to the face. Ditzy snorted steam, feeling bloodlust take over, feeling her wings rise and crackle with electric power, feeling absolutely miserable. Redheart was quick to interfere, turning and lashing out with a buck before anything could happen. Ditzy saw it coming and let it connect, knowing she deserved it. While she reeled away from the blow, Blossomforth approached from the side, tackling Ditzy to the ground and pinning her there. Ditzy didn't try to struggle out of the headlock. She merely laid there in self-loathing, still glaring daggers at Heath as blood spurted from her nose. What he'd said was sick. She felt sick and to some degree disbelieved that she'd even heard it. What kind of idiot would say something like that? Wordlessly, Redheart turned back around, somewhat hiding her rider from view. Ditzy's Alpha stared into her forward-facing, acid-yellow eyes and frowned. Deeply, commandingly, powerfully. Ditzy felt herself recoil, even in her anger, and she lowered her head as much as she could in submission, feeling the headlock loosen. "Let's get you home, Ditzy. You need to cool off." Redheart reached down and pressed a glowing forehoof against Ditzy's bleeding muzzle, then craned her neck to look back at her tangled passenger with an expression of chastisement. "And don't go antagonizing ponies like that, Heath. She's been through enough crap as it is." The colt mumbled something Ditzy couldn't hear through the pounding in her ears. Thankfully, the throbbing pain in her nostrils was quick to leave while the trail of red cleared up in no time. Blossomforth, apparently satisfied that Ditzy wasn't going to be taking any heads, released her and offered a hoof to help her stand. "Now c'mon," Redheart beckoned, starting away from them, "we're almost there." Ditzy had just reached her home's front door when a sudden whoosh from behind bade her turn and look back. There, in the distance--right about the area she'd helped confront Daybreaker--a massive, rainbow-colored beam of magic swung high into the air before crashing down. The resulting surge of raw magic visibly swept through all of town, like a tidal wave of pure power. Everypony's manes and tails were blown back as they struggled against the pressure, trying to avoid being pushed over. This wave of magic carried with it a sort of positive energy. Ditzy felt it wash over her and suddenly she wasn't as miserable anymore. The anger and self-loathing were still there, but greatly reduced. Like faint aches that remained after taking painkillers, or maybe the thrill of battle that stuck around long after victory. "... Anypony have any idea what that was?" Blossomforth's hesitant voice tore Derpy Hooves from her thoughts and back to the present. There she was, paused on the front porch of her home as the last of the magical surge faded away. Derpy Hooves shook her head in response, then opted to simply turn back and open the door. "Whatever it was," Redheart replied, shrugging as she followed Derpy Hooves in, "it was definitely none of our business. You could go check it out, though." Blossomforth nodded, waving goodbye as she flared her wings. "I think I will. Best of luck to you!" Then she was gone, and the front door swung closed behind her. Derpy Hooves stood for a moment, finally back inside, and sighed. The simmering rage was finally fading away, and for that she was grateful. Whatever that rainbow beam had been, it certainly wasn't anything evil; no wicked force could have so calming an effect. Derpy Hooves headed straight for the living room, then the nearest couch. Redheart followed, still carrying a drowsy Heath slung across her withers. The grey pegasus sat, closing her wonky eyes and adorning what she hoped was a serene expression, while her Alpha stood a few feet before her. "You doing alright? This hasn't happened in a while." Redheart's voice carried a hint of worry, which didn't help matters. Derpy Hooves quelled the urge to sigh again, merely lowering her head until her chin rested on the seat cushion. "I'll be okay," she said, her voice small. "You should check on the others. Whoovsie must be worried." Redheart nodded--which Derpy Hooves couldn't see, per se, but still knew happened--and started towards the basement door. At the last moment, however, she hesitated and looked back, for once letting the confidant, self-assured Alpha façade fade away and reveal the insecurities beneath. "Are you... sure?" Derpy Hooves' eyes snapped open and she offered a lopsided smile. "Yes." She lied. Redheart nodded again and shortly descended out of sight. Minutes later, Derpy Hooves finally settled into troubled slumber.
Chapter One - Or How I Got Completely Screwed OverAuthor's Note Hey, author here. Just wanted to say that, yes, I messed up on this chapter. I really wish I'd started the story differently, as this beginning seems to give off all the wrong vibes. It is staying, though, for two main reasons: I don't really know how else to go about it--this was always the beginning of the story, even in the earliest ideas of it. There are plot threads and dangly bits that depend on these words, so it'd be a lot of work to change and I'd rather move forward with things. It's generally good taste, as far as I've seen, to leave one's mistakes open and viewable. By leaving it as-is, I accept that I'm not perfect and can learn from these experiences, while inviting others to do the same. I know much, if not most, of my writing ability comes not from practicing myself, but reading other people's works. Rest assured, this is not a story about hating women. I like to think I'm a reasonable guy and I hold no such feelings toward anyone, really. No personal attacks, please, even if I happen to write characters that come off as raging cesspits or the like--they are not self-inserts or reflections of me, at least not in that sense. No, that doesn't mean Heath is meant to be likeable, at least at the start. The hope was that fewer people would be able to relate to him and whatnot, but I guess everything sorta backfired with this chapter. TL;DR, I hear you, I've seen the comments, I know this thing sucks. In the interest of improving my writing ability and pandering to those that apparently still like this story anyway, I will be continuing. I am sorry if I offended anyone; that was never my intention. Just... can we stop harping on this one mistake? Please? Thank you, that's all I ask. Chapter One - Or How I Got Completely Screwed Over In my experience living on planet Earth, it is customary to rub one's closed eyes when awakening from a good night's rest. I, of course, never cared to count how many mornings I'd started with that action; suffice it to say that the habit was thoroughly ingrained in my routine. Naturally, the deed assisted with regaining consciousness, helping to break that sandy stuff that keeps our eyes closed and perhaps rub some life into a rebooting brain. Obviously, the first thing I opted to do once I was sufficiently awake was this very action, as I'd done it countless times before with resounding success. I'm sure you can thusly sympathize with my shock when I felt not the warm grasp of fingers across my face, but instead a cold, hard surface making rather speedy contact with my nose. Ow. Shocked, pained, and successfully roused, I could only blink stupidly as my blurry vision cleared. In my daze, I tried clutching my throbbing nose, which only earned yet another hard impact. This, as you can doubtlessly understand, was quite jarring and my eyes consequently flew open to glare at the offending appendage. I expected a closed fist, perhaps numb because I'd slept on it wrong and maybe that was why I somehow couldn't feel my fingers. A pale green hoof, attached quite soundly to a similarly-colored foreleg, was the first thing my gaze focused on. It was an objectively hideous color, one far too close to chartreuse for my liking. I'd always hated that particular shade, though for what exact reason I couldn't say. The fetlock flexed when I tensed what should have been a wrist and after some other small tests I concluded that it was, in fact, part of my body. I laid there, vacantly staring up at the hoof, for quite some time. After that, it fell limply to my side as I scrunched up my face, shutting my eyes in what could reasonably be called exasperation. Oh, come on, thought I. Now, you were probably expecting a slightly more...bombastic reaction. I will admit, the urge to scream and run in circles was definitely present--fairly tempting, in fact. The thing is, I just wasn't that kind of person. Now, I won't claim to be logical or clear-minded about things, but, faced with a sudden transformation into goodness-knows what, I found abject frustration to be my sole emotion. Eventually, I reopened my eyes and rolled to my stomach, figuring it best to run damage control and see what the heck I looked like. It was at that moment, however, that I finally took a glance at my surroundings and my jaw promptly dropped. This isn't my apartment. Bright orange walls greeted my gaze, painted with murals depicting various woodland creatures prancing about in glee under a light yellow sun. Harsh fluorescent lighting glared down from above, working in tandem with the curtained window to illuminate the modestly-sized room around me. A sterile floor stretched below, looking thoroughly-cleaned and almost painfully white. A harsh chemical smell wafted from seemingly everywhere, so strong I wondered how I hadn't detected it before. Spartan furnishing existed in the room; only a bedside table next to the raised mattress I laid upon and some monitoring equipment by an IV I realized I was hooked into. I paused, straining my ears--ignoring, for the moment, the faint rustle and moving sensation I received from such an action--and managed to hear nothing aside from a soft beeping to my left. The white sheets I was tucked into were warm, soft and impeccably clean; they too smelled of that chemical scent I was beginning to recognize as soap. I sighed heavily, either due to relief or disappointment I didn't know, and ponderously examined the room around me. Is this a...hospital? I'd never been in one before, but it seemed to fit the bill. Having studied all I could, I braced for impact and--slowly, to make sure I didn't hurt anything or pull some new muscle I hadn't had before--wriggled out of the blankets. After observing my new body for a while, I found I could only shut my eyes again and let out another sigh. Well, I suppose being an undersized Christmas-colored horse isn't the worst possible thing. Still not my preferred option, though. Ideally, I'd be your regular, run-of-the-mill human male going about his day and not offending whatever cosmic entity decided to put me here. Evidently, I had somehow failed in that endeavor, something to which my bright red tail and tiny, feathery wings could attest. A rush of many different emotions flooded me in that moment, but oddly enough, panic seemed overshadowed by some kind of resignation. Ah, well, I hardly had the time to do a deep-dive into my own psyche; I needed to gather information about my current situation and I needed to do it now. Grunting softly to myself, I stood on all fours--a position that felt all too natural--and promptly hopped down off the bed. Immediately, I noticed two key things: Firstly, the tube attached to the IV I was hooked into wasn't long enough to allow such an action. Secondly, the nightstand in front of me stretched far too high in the air for me to ever reach the bandages I could see at the top. Accompanying these realizations were their just-as-immediate consequences, which I watched as though in slow motion. The needle buried in my fetlock was painfully ripped out with a spurt of blood that, to my horror, didn't seem to slow down much at all. And, despite my frantic hopping, I still couldn't reach the one thing that would help me. Perhaps because of my inexperience with this body, I ended up landing wrong and slipped on the growing pool of red liquid. The heart monitor--whose attached cords for some reason were actually long enough--was beeping wildly at this point and I found myself short of breath after having crashed down on my still-sore nose. You know, as a grown man, all of this would probably hurt quite a bit and be rather inconveniencing, but nothing to sincerely worry about. This stupid little horse body, though, apparently felt pain far, far more keenly. I choked back tears as I laid there, cursing softly. My fetlock felt like it'd been ripped open and I could swear the whole front of my face was broken. I'll spare you too many details, but suffice it to say I was not having a good morning. It's times like this when I like to take a step back and wonder how on earth my life led me here. In my experience, 'phasing out,' as it were, of these particular situations tends to do a world of good, so naturally, that was what I did. Already in my short life as a pony, I was yearning to be back as a man with a host of completely different problems. Issues like paying my rent on time, waking up early enough to get to work, resisting the urge to get the more-convenient fast food and instead cook something decent for dinner. The simple, the mundane, the routine. I'd been content with my lot in life, you know. I never once complained about my humble, all-too-average situation, at least that I could recall. Sure, I suppose it had been a bit dull, but I'd take boring over three-legged hobbling to the corner of the hospital room and crying my eyes out any day. Not that I was focusing too hard on that, mind you. Once lost in my own head, the raw pain of this body all but left entirely. Really, it was quite an effective coping mechanism. I recommend you try it sometime. Distantly, I heard hurried hoofsteps and my furry pony ears swiveled towards the door as it burst open. I snapped back to attention once I saw what was standing in the doorway, wincing as sensation duly returned. Another pony stood there, one I immediately noticed was quite a fair bit larger than me, by a margin such that I just as quickly deduced that my body must be a child. Next, I observed the nurse's cap the pony was wearing, as well as the intricate tattoo seemingly part of its flank. Then, I saw the soft curve of its muzzle, the long eyelashes, and elaborate manestyle. A female. By heaven itself, I hated females. Women and I, you see, had never exactly seen eye to eye. Despite my every attempt to be cordial, inviting, and above all, respectful, they never seemed to return the favor. I do realize I'm generalizing here, but go with me. Often, the best treatment I could expect from a girl was a glare of enmity as she slapped my offered hand away. Sometimes, I caught them talking behind my back, shooting pointy scowls as I walked by. Other times, women would genuinely try to antagonize me with a selection of methods so wide I couldn't even begin to list all of them. Suffice it to say I'd had bad experience with females. Worse still, I could never pin down the reason why they hated me so much; best I could tell, my only outstanding characteristic was that I was perfectly average in every feasible way. And any attempt at placation or defending myself was only met with vindictive retaliation the likes of which I could never have expected. It was like they had some secret code, some hidden method of judging people that I always ran afoul of no matter how hard I tried. After a while, I stopped trying to get them to like me. I'd decided long ago that avoidance--under any cost--was the best solution. And that worked quite well for me, actually. The women in my life had finally reached a consensus with me, something along the lines of 'I hate you, you hate me, let's make sure we never see each other again'. That plan was wildly successful. At least, it was until... ...well... I won't bore you with the details. The fact remained: A female was standing in the doorway to my room and I needed to get her out before she did something unsavory. It was at that moment, of course, while she was scanning my surely-pitiful figure up and down--doubtlessly calculating how vulnerable I was--that I involuntarily let out a pained whimper. Of course, her eyes immediately bulged open and she rushed in for the kill. "Stay away!" I croaked with a voice far too hoarse and high-pitched for my liking. This, of course, did absolutely nothing to dissuade the menace and in fact only increased her pace as she galloped straight toward me. Frantically glancing about, I spied the nearby curtained window and sped over, ripping apart the drapes. To my delight, it had been cracked open and I was even on the first floor of the building. To my horror, this pony foal body wasn't near strong enough to open the thing any wider. Not in time to escape the stony forelegs that coiled around my barrel. I yelled, thrashing as hard as I could, but wasn't able to stop myself from being bodily thrown back on the bed. The mare pinned me to the sheets, grunting angrily as I continued to squirm with all I had. I'm proud to say I managed to clock her pretty solidly in the face, but was more than disappointed when she didn't so much as blink and a fresh wave of pain swept across my foreleg. Ultimately, the 'fight' was over before it even began; this lady was orders of magnitude stronger than me, likely due to my weakened state and comparative smallness. The second she tired of physically holding my writhing form still and leaned to the side to prepare a syringe, I knew there was no hope of escape. Again as if in slow motion, I watched as she leaned back over me, grasping my uninjured foreleg and quickly sliding the needle in. The mare stared right into my eyes as she depressed the plunger, smugly daring me to try anything else. I thought I could even see her grinning mouth moving, though the world was growing too fuzzy for me to make out the words. I didn't give her the satisfaction of replying. I merely glared up at her, willing my expression to reflect my hatred for her kind instead of the all-consuming fear I was actually feeling. That was the last I knew before I slipped away.
