Kind Hands

At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep. If not that, then I’d found a unique way to disconnect from my body as I stood alone, in a place that was far too different to Flankerton beach to even exist on the same plane of reality. This stuff can’t be good for the mind.

What’s more, this place didn’t look like anything that Luna would create. There was nothing but blackness; I couldn’t see anything around me. I’d mentioned voids before, but this space around me (however large it was) was the textbook definition of a void- of nothingness.

In fact, the only sign of life was a glint of light from behind me. It may’ve only been a flicker, but due to the absence of anything at all, it may as well have been an inferno. It was enough to give me the motivation to move forward, and thankfully I was able to do so with little resistance.

With nowhere else to go, I headed towards where the flicker of light came from. As expected, once I approached its general area, the spark returned once more, before igniting into a small ball of fire that floated a few feet from my face. The flames were effortlessly captivating, lighting up my eyes with a lilac glare. Such a colour heavily hinted towards the identity of the pony who was keeping me here.

“Twilight?”

My voice echoed considerably while I spoke, although it did little to take away from how stifling the area felt, like being trapped in a cardboard box. This wasn’t helped by the inaction of the flames in front of me, which only crackled in a way that helped contribute towards the lonely feeling that this place gave me.

I reached out in an attempt to grab at the flames- perhaps just to feel their warmth. In doing so, I was hit with an unfortunate truth: I had no hands. No feet either. Given what was in front of me, it was entirely possible that I was just another ball of flames, which made me wonder if I’d actually spoken at all.

Just as I was beginning to fall into a state of crisis, the fire in front of me erupted again, letting out an even more brilliant surge of light. Again, I’m not sure if I had eyes, but I couldn’t stop myself from staring at it. It felt as if the fire was fighting for power, destroying itself before immediately beginning anew, slightly stronger each time.

Unfortunately, this cycle repeated itself an ungodly number of times. If I had arms, I would’ve passive-aggressively folded them while I waited for the flames to subside. It honestly felt like watching someone trying to use a really shit cigarette lighter.

Eventually though, we seemed to hit the sweet spot. With a noticeably stronger ignition, the lilac embers pulsed and flickered periodically, finally suggesting that there was a greater force controlling them, with an unsure voice to match.

“Please tell me it worked. Please tell me it worked…”

Yep, that was Twilight. I should’ve known that we would never be able to go more than a few days without doing something unnecessary. Still, I was with her now…I think, so I repeated her name, hoping that my voice would register this time.

It apparently did, if the reaction I received was any indication. “It worked? It worked! It worked, it worked, it worked!” the flames declared with increasing intensity. I was sure that if Twilight’s physical form was in front of me, she’d be dancing along to the rhythm of her own success.

That didn’t help me, though. “It’s good to see you too. Well, ‘see’…” I began, not too sure what to say given the circumstances. To add to this, I tried to reach out once again, only to be reminded that I’d need my body to do that.

Handily, the Twilight-ball carried on. “I’m really sorry about this! I felt you call out to me, but I couldn’t reach you,” she informed me. It was fairly humorous to watch the fire stay relatively static while Twilight nervously detailed her thought processes.

I should’ve known that this was Twilight’s doing. Big question though: “How did you do this?” I enquired, genuinely interested this time.

Twilight was quick to respond. “I didn’t want to. But I thought you might be in danger, so I brought your subconscious somewhere safe.”

“That’s…a fairly illegal-sounding spell you’ve got there.”

I genuinely don’t know what to add here- this was just a ‘talking heads’ scene, taken to its absolute limit. “It’s not like that,” Twilight retorted, shifting into a more clinical way of speaking. “Look at us- look around us; what would you even call this?”

“Impressive,” was my answer, quickly delivered too. So quick in fact, that it seemed to leave the mare at a loss for words. “Twilight?” I added, trying for the umpteenth time to use my non-existent arms to regain the mare’s attention. I love arms. Give them back.

And because of this, Twilight remained absent from the conversation. Her flame still flickered, so I wasn’t worried about her losing ‘connection’; she must’ve been taking a long time to think. “This is the part where I’d give you a shake or something,” I continued, hoping to keep the energy going. “Or a hug. You always liked those.”

“I lack the hooves to hug- and you lack a form to hold,” Twilight informed me, almost coldly so. She didn’t say anything else- no matter how much I willed and waited for her to do so. I had no choice, so I decided to try again.

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

I tried my best to sound sincere. I wanted to be. Either way, I minutely expressed my feelings to the blackness around me, only Twilight’s flame offering any respite from it. Truth be told, I was happy to wait in silence this time- to wait for those words to sink in, whatever reaction they would receive.

After a while, however, I could see which way the wind was blowing. “Come and find me- talk to me. I know that you know where I am,” I informed the ball of fire in front of me. “After all, this…thing? It’s not ideal. I feel like I don’t fully have a conscience here.”

“Yes, Flankerton Beach. I was expecting you to go somewhere quiet. I was sure that you’d go somewhere colder…”

Whether Twilight was purposely being so emotionless or not, this conversation was quickly petering out. “You should probably send me back now,” I reluctantly requested. It was less that I had nothing to say, and more that I didn’t want to bring attention to the obvious fact that Twilight was still upset about the whole thing.

The answer that I received from the ball of flames wasn’t exactly encouraging. “If that’s what you want…” was what I got, lacking the expected authority- for better or for worse. I wished that I had the ability to scratch at the back of my neck or something, just to take my focus away from this.

I…well, the word ‘stood’ may be too active for this situation. I merely existed in this place while I mulled over the correct way to phrase my answer. I talked a big game, but now that I was actually in the moment, I felt like it was best to bite my tongue. My feelings towards Twilight didn’t need to be so complex; leaving wasn’t what I wanted to do, and yet…

“Yes. It is.”

My answer didn’t warrant a response from Twilight, it seemed. Rather, I felt the space around me tighten as a familiar feeling of disconnect began to overwhelm me. Judging by the immediacy of this transition, I imagined how Twilight had internally reacted to the news- but there wasn’t any time to think about that anymore. A way out was approaching…

Well, it was warm again. The heat was the first thing I felt, quickly followed by the sensations given off by limbs once more. Even before I opened my eyes, as heavy and unresponsive as they initially were, I tried to move my legs, only to find that they too were difficult to move at first. However, before I began to panic at the threat of this turning into a body-horror, I heard a familiar voice that inadvertently eased the tension.

“Mr. Bayard! Why did you move?!”

Despite the short-sighted harshness of the admonishment I received, it was the best thing I could’ve heard. My time in the darkness (or whatever pretentious terms you want to use) wasn’t particularly long, but I kind of liked being in control of my body. It was a very low-level thought.

Opening my eyes, I was able to observe the reason for the grief that I’d caused- as well as the efforts taken to rectify the situation. My legs had been partially buried in the sand while I’d slept, courtesy of the usual suspects, and my heinous lapse in judgement had ruined what must’ve been many minutes’ worth of hard work.

Happily, though, I wasn’t that bothered. Gingerly and with little coordination, I lifted myself from the sand and stared at the ocean in the background. The shimmer it had originally so proudly displayed had lost much of its lustre, as the sun itself seemed to be showing the same sense of fatigue, threatening to slump over the horizon.

“It’s quite late now, girls,” I informed the pair of miscreants. Whether the little ones were at my beck and call was left to be seen as my vision stayed focused on the horizon; I was unsure if they’d even reacted to what I’d said. Nature is often captivating when you have nothing else to focus on, and I was sure that the three of us were to be blessed with a beautiful sunset soon enough. I wanted to share it with them.

“Are we going home now?” Eve quickly asked me, closing the distance between us until she waited within arms’ reach. I thought of an answer to the little one’s question. Her inference skills were remarkable.

“We’re going back to the house. If nothing else, we’re getting something to eat. It’s been a while.”

“I’m hungry,” Eva helpfully contributed. I hadn’t actually seen her since I’d woken up, so her ever-hesitant voice was refreshing to hear. This was especially true, given how she seemed insistent in staying directly behind me- even after introducing herself into the conversation.

I gave the little girl a quick glance over my shoulder, indeed confirming that she was still with us, dainty and fragile as she was, before returning myself back to Eve. I gave the inquisitor a point with my finger, gesturing to Eva behind me for emphasis as the two finally sought fit to reunite. Once together again, the pair only responded with a subtle lick of the lips.

So, dinner was on the cards then. “Then, let’s get going, littluns,” I declared to the pair, who were hopefully just as ready to leave as I was. In the traditional fashion, however, Eve took it upon herself to disappear behind me, leading the charge towards her imminent supper.

This was obviously nothing new, but we were in unfamiliar territory, regardless of how sun-kissed and laidback it all appeared to be. Free from the expanse of silky-soft sand was a small town that felt like little more than a large market. As expected, this consisted of many bars and restaurants of varying complexity and theming, offering anything that you could ask for- except for meat. It was a familiar backdrop to any seaside town that I’d experienced, and it was nice to know that some things never change.

More than that, the place was largely unoccupied; the streets were mostly clear at this hour, and the elderly ponies that remained paid us no mind. I inwardly thanked them for the peace, but it was possible that the entire population were too short-sighted to notice that we were any different.

Although, they’d soon get the chance to see us up close, if Eve kept on charging forwards into the dwindling daylight. She needed a jacket. It would’ve been difficult to chase her down, and I also wasn’t able to just abandon all our stuff on the beach, so I was thankful to see her come to a stop at the point where the sand ended and the stone pathway began, far in the distance.

“You’re going to get taken away if you’re not careful,” I warned the flighty little thing once I got closer, struggling with the combination of bags, buckets and a separate, needy child. Eva had stayed mercifully close for the entire journey up to her sister, who seemed uninterested in what I was suggesting. “If you run that far away from me, I can’t help you if something happens.”

There was still little to grasp at in terms of a reaction, so I let out a sigh and wearily pointed in the general direction of where we needed to go. Eve led the way, of course, and she took us a great distance before stopping suddenly, seemingly having noticed a change in the air. It was a scent long forbidden in a world such as this, yet it was also too tantalising for her to ignore.

Meat.

I smelled it too. It was pretty damn potent, which was a bit baffling given the herbivore-ish thing that these ponies liked to show off. Pescatarian, maybe. Still, if any meat was available (and not massively illegal), I wouldn’t have minded getting involved with something shady.

And judging by the direction that Eve was travelling in, she seemed to have made up her mind as well. She brought us to the correct place fairly succinctly, albeit with a few questions in-between. The enthusiasm that she showed, eventually coming back to drag me by the hand, suggested that she was excited for this too, so I felt more assured by the minute.

Eva didn’t give me quite the same level of confidence, although that wasn’t a bad thing. Granted, she gripped my arm ever-tighter with every step we took, coming to a crescendo once we reached the place. Yeah, the outside didn’t look that great, but she really didn’t need to be so clingy.

Especially if it meant that we could eat something. Sure, we stood outside what was essentially a small, white caravan (maybe even an RV if you were so inclined), smattered with dirt and grime and all that lovely stuff. I wouldn’t have gone in there if I wasn’t armed, but they say that if your establishment looks like a drug den, it probably has good food. Those dealers can cook.

And there he was. Reclined on a dreadfully tatty couch just in front of the caravan lay a male griffon. He was more interesting than that old bird Fairfeather at least, given this one’s colour palette of largely white with occasional streaks of brown that wrapped around his body. More exceptional than this was the way the feathers at the top of his head darkened considerably, blackening on the right side of his face as if he’d ended up on an open fire at some point along with his food.

Speaking off that, all that delicious-smelling meat was sizzling away in the background- and our griffon friend lethargically rose from his seat, probably to tend to his cooking. Doing so revealed his body that, while clearly muscular, had much more meat on it than the other…two griffons that I’d met before. This man knew how to eat good.

At some point, he must’ve seen us coming; while still moving away from us, he made his introduction. “About time you showed up,” he commented, sounding oddly chipper given his word choice. I assumed he was a ‘he’, of course, given the deepness of his voice, every word spoken like he had a mouth full of gravel. “Hope you like burnt ends.”

Naturally, a lot of questions came from this. The ones most notable for me were:

Who was this guy?

Why was he waiting for me?

Why hadn’t the town’s pony population had him arrested?

Where could I get some of what he was cooking?

I was at a loss. The girls were too; they didn’t move. “You were waiting for us?” I asked the stranger, hoping to move through my list of questions. Eva idled forwards while I spoke, as if my encroachment into the conversation had given her the courage to move inwards herself.

“I know you’ve got your questions,” the griffon reassured us before disappearing around a corner. “Maybe a bit of brisket will put your mind at ease.”

I watched the griffon disappear, my eyes instantly snapping to the girls once he had finally left. From the looks on their faces, they seemed to be wondering the same things that I was. I gave Eve’s hair a ruffle, as she was the closest to me, and Eva returned for the same treatment while we waited.

Soon enough, the griffon returned with a large tray of food balanced on his back. The laws of physics amused me, but the divine assault on my senses shut me up for a moment, as the meat upon that beloved tray made me weak from how self-fulfilling the whole scenario was.

“Change your mind?” the griffon smoothly enquired as he approached, voice so silky that I had more excitable thoughts in mind.

“Well, you’re very convincing,” I mindlessly replied, unable to look away. Looking back, I should’ve asked for permission from the little ones before committing to anything- but, still. “Yeah, we’ll stay. But if there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be…”

Finally having some clarity, albeit the wrong kind, I made an effort to summon my bow in my free hand. I kept the thing facing the floor, hoping that it conveyed a certain message without being overly threatening. I guess drawing a weapon is never the best idea. Do Americans walk into their local BBQ restaurant carrying a handgun? Probably.

“Don’t shoot me down like that. Monsters play with their food- they don’t serve it.”

In the midst of my moral grandstanding, my griffon friend had moved away from me once more, pushing his way through the front door to his…house? Establishment? Either way, he left us alone, all but daring us to follow him through, into the unknown.

“You okay, girls?” I questioned my pair of travellers, who had stayed unnervingly quiet. I expected that much from Eva, but even she was starting to worry me as she stared off into the floor, watching it intensely.

“She wants a burger,” Eve sought to remind me, rattling off this little fact likely out of obligation.

“Cheeseburger…” Eva sought to concur. As is tradition, this was all that the pair needed to proceed, making sure to grab me by the arm and show me what I was missing out on.

I was starting to like the subdued nature of this town. Now inside this little home-from-home, I was excited for what was to come next. “Make yourself at home,” our host had sensually told us while tending to something in the far corner, so I did just that, finding a comfortable seat and fighting off my hunger pains.

The suave gentleman had taken our ‘orders’ and then buggered off back outside to do his thing. It at least gave the little ones the freedom to move about and stretch their legs a tad, finding some joy in moving between the smattering of couches and coffee tables. At least they stayed in the ‘living’ room area of this unrealistically large space.

This whole area was incredibly homely- unkempt with cushions out of place, tea towels hanging over every mismatched chair, and some concerning stains on the purple carpet. Granted, the colours reminded me of a certain someone, and the haphazard nature of everything reminded me of that certain someone’s mind, but I was happy to ignore that for now.

And the little ones were a greater priority right now. Especially so, given how their rambunctious exploration came to a premature end with an, “Oh, it’s you,” from Eve. She sounded unenthused, and the lack of name suggested that this was an old acquaintance at best.

From Eve’s perspective, this was technically true, yet it also made perfect sense for him to be here. Fairfeather was among us, munching on a meal of his own in a distant dark corner. It took a moment to find him, such was his knack for blending in, but it was definitely him, crooked arm and all.

“Heyo!” he declared to me, uninterested in entertaining the children. He jumped out of his seat and made his way over to me. With a tangible awkwardness, he slumped into a seat opposite me, unbothered by the bewildered look I was giving him.

What’s more, the bastard didn’t even say anything, so it was up to me to salvage something from this. “So…what are you doing here? You here just for me?”

I found it hard to believe that this was a coincidence. Fairfeather didn’t strike me as the type to have much paid time off. “Hey, can’t I spend some time with my buddy?” he attempted to explain, sounding thoroughly unconvincing.

“No, you can’t,” I bluntly replied, gesturing for the girls to return to me. They chose to decline this request, and a gentle banging of miscellaneous objects lingered in the background throughout the rest of my conversation.

“I didn’t want to make it so obvious…” Fairfeather began with a high-pitched sigh. “…But somepony’s gotta keep you safe. You lose your mind when you’re out here too long.”

“So, I can never be left alone…” I lamented, wishing that I had a pint glass to slam into the table. The smell coming from the grill outside had made me hungry, and the mere sight of someone from this world was making my eyes heavy. “Come to stop me from shooting the locals?”

“More to…stop you from going crazy again,” Fairfeather reluctantly corrected, focusing more on the tabletop than any glare that I could send him.

“I don’t go crazy, mate- the world does.”

Fairfeather tried his hardest to stifle a laugh at this, further muddying the tone of this conversation. This wasn’t helped by a small voice beside me, compounding the misery with a resounding, “You have cried a lot,” spoken by a black-haired girl who was in no position to start making observations like that.

“I’m sorry sweetheart- but you cannot take the moral high ground here,” I rebuked with a smile that was harder to restrain than I’d imagined. Following on from that feeling, I lifted Eve onto my lap, where she silently pushed upwards until she stood on my thighs, wrapped her arms around my head, whispered something unintelligible, and then disappeared back into the corner.

I momentarily wondered if those events had actually happened, not helped by Fairfeather’s lack of a reaction. “You talk like a supervillain sometimes. Ponies are starting to take notice.”

“The princesses would love to see you in the best state of mind when you come back to Canterlot- so this is what we’re doing.”

‘This’ of course, being a meal and an awkward conversation in someone’s RV. None of this motivated me to speak any further, so I mostly kept quiet until the sensual griffon from earlier returned with a selection of meals that, again, I was no longer that arsed with trying.

Granted, I proved to be the only one with this mindset. The second that those plates hit the table, Eve and Eva were upon them, arguing and clambering over one another to find the most comfortable seat. Inevitably, this prize was whichever space was closest to me, and I was happy for this; I still wasn’t fully comfortable in a place like this.

I needn’t have been so worried by the griffons. They kept to themselves while they ate, and I at least found out the other guy’s name. Or his nickname at least, as I wasn’t sure if ‘Hasher’ was meant to be some sort of joke or not.

It didn’t matter what happened to the griffons or the ponies or whatever in that moment anyway: the kids were alright, showcased by the way that they chomped down on their food while having an at-times nonsensical, at-times surprisingly eloquent conversation. It was as if nothing had really changed. I don’t know why it made me so sad.

Fairfeather had alluded to a greater purpose of this. I guess it was to inspire, or whatever. A call to arms. It just left me feeling slightly withdrawn; I only spoke in response to a comment that one of the girls had made. Maybe that was progress, compared to everything else that had happened so far.

Now that I think about it, it was something new- something nice. I would’ve preferred to have shared it with only the children, but the griffons felt more serene in the way that they handled themselves. The room was quiet; the activity within was pedestrian. It was…away from everything else. Detached, perhaps.

So much so, that I wasn’t bothered about the nature of this ‘Hasher’ fella, or his meth-lab RV, or why the townsfolk weren’t in the process of lynching us for enjoying a meat-lovers’ sample platter on their doorstep. These guys were probably the most normal people I’d met so far- and that was likely because they just left me alone.

The girls were knackered after their hefty portions as well. I wasn’t doing much better, so getting the pair out of there was likely to be difficult. It would’ve been so easy to kick the three of us while we were down, but the griffons watched on, neither helping nor hindering. To me, that was a hell of a lot better than getting involved.

I felt very little when I left the griffons behind; I only wanted to put the girls to bed. Obviously, I’d given my regards to the chef, but there wasn’t anything else to say. The experience was a tepid one, and- guilt aside- those experiences were often some of the best.

Such a lack of enthusiasm was reflected in the quiet walk home. With full stomachs, the little ones had found little use in staying awake any longer, leaving me to precariously balance them on my upper body. I ached from the exertion, but I was delighted. In this world at least, I’d never felt more at peace.

And I’m sure that that was the point of this whole trip.