Mirror: Book I - Mind

Two, stone-cold, castle doors waited patiently at the top of a flight of cobbled, ruined stairs, dark vines and ancient greenery slithering from every crack and crevice present upon the old palace grounds. A cold, rushing wind leapt backwards into the forest and tore past the brush and leaves like a scythe slicing through grass. The disturbing sounds of the mysterious woods grew deathly quiet, and all that was left was an empty, hollowed echo bouncing back to the two visitors standing before the murky, menacing door to the Everfree forest.

Despite the dreadful chill crawling down the boy’s spine, David stood at the ready, if only to facade a show of confidence in the presence of his female companion. Starlight puffed her chest and strode forward with an intimidating gait. “Let’s go.” She trotted on.

“W-Wait…” The boy, expectantly, hesitated.

“Scared?” The mare turned on perfect queue.

“No! I’m just…” He glanced ahead, catching glimpses of over-sized insects, ghoulish faces and yellow, beady eyes blinking back at him from within the shadowy depths. “…terrified.” He gulped.

“I figured.” Starlight had to stifle a smirk. “The forest isn’t so bad.”

A blood-curdling howl, as though an animal caught by a predator was being torn to pieces, erupted from the dark depths far within, eliciting a jolt from the boy and causing the mare to go stiff.

“Once you get used to it…” She chortled nervously.

“Listen, I don’t mind a little stroll through the woods in the middle of the cold, dead night as much as the next guy, a magical one at that-” The boy paused a moment, staring at his friend’s horn. “But uh, isn’t there a way we could, y’know, get there faster?”

“Running…?” Starlight guessed.

David huffed and pointed to his forehead.

“You want me to knock you out and carry you there in a body bag?”

“What the hell did I do to make you unleash these psychopathic episodes all of a sudden?” The boy shook his head. “Never mind. Look, can’t you just teleport us there?”

“Ah, that.” Starlight cocked her head to the left and right. “Y’see, the thought crossed my mind well before we even walked up here. It’d be a brilliant plan, if only one of us weren’t prone to unexpected side-effects via magical impulses.”

David raised a finger, hung his jaw apart until he finally walked in a circle with a hand to his chin. “Right.” He muttered. “No easy way out. Or rather, in.”

“Just stick by my side, let a pro teach you how it’s done.” Starlight grinned and flared her horn to life, the surreal, cyan glow covering a vast expanse of the forest ahead. With a whip of her magic the tip of her horn illuminated to life as though a bright, blinding light bulb hung at the end. She waved her light around as a show of guidance, and turned back to her companion with confidence. “I promise I won’t let anything in that forest lay a claw on you.”

“Alright.” The boy finally sufficed. “I guess I’m trusting you.”

“Then let’s go-”

“Wait…!”

“Ugh!” Starlight stomped a hoof. “Now what?”

“I gotta take a piss…”

The unicorn’s face fell to a flat dead-pan. She creased her lips and flicked her head to the side, gesturing for the boy to go take care of business while she dimmed her light and waited. Her eyes glanced back up to the crescent, white light in the sky peaking out from a couple of thin, wispy clouds roaming by. Tonight, she thought tiredly, is going to be a long night.

The thick, narrowing fog parted at the presence of the blinding luminescence wading through the forest one trot after another. Off put by the sudden presence of light in the middle of the night, crawlers and critters alike slithered to the unseen and ducked for cover behind branches and bushes, quietly watching as the set of unmatched figures treaded their way through. The trees, for once, felt as though they were at a reasonable height for a human, and it was for this reason that the boy became aware of the abnormal tendencies that which the Everfree forest was known for sporting, one season after the other. Where most of nature had been taken under the wing of stewardship and jurisdiction by the ponies, the Everfree had been left to do as it pleased, and quite mysteriously nopony ever knew exactly why. Perhaps it was something in the air? Something in the water? Or rather, something in the castle? There was once a division of the ponyfolk, as the boy had came to hear loosely of, but nevertheless it told him about times of confusion, turmoil, and war. It was, for lack of a better term, a great schism, and in the midst of this schism nature wasn’t only taking back what it had once claimed as “it’s own”, but it was up to something a little more, something out of the ordinary. The exact origins of the Everfree forest, to this day, remain but a mystery.

“Is it a bad time to say I don’t actually know how to get to the ruins?” David quivered.

“Relax, I’ve been here longer.” Starlight huffed.

“Does that mean you know where to go?”

“…”

“Starlight?”

“Celestia, Luna and Cadance…” The mare exhaled. “What am I doing right now? This is inane!”

“Hey, take it easy!” David held her shoulders. “Don’t go having a mental breakdown on me now. You’re my guide, remember?”

“I shouldn’t have let you come this far, I shouldn’t have even let you leave the castle.” Starlight grumbled and hoofed her forehead. “What am I going to tell Twilight?”

“What’s the first rule of fight club?”

“Fight club?” The pony squinted, confused. “What ‘fight club?’”

“Nothing.” The boy reminded. “You’re going to tell her absolutely nothing. We agreed on it, we shook on it.”

“I know, I know.” Starlight breathed again, searching for composure. “Just listen to me, because this is the only time I’m going to openly admit this. Not even I am one-hundred percent confident in my magical capabilities especially when it comes to unpredictable places like the Everfree forest. If worse comes to worst, I’m going to have to get you out of here as soon as possible. You know what that means, right?”

Not a sliver of time was given for a proper response. A rustle beneath the brush sounded close by, something far larger than a common squirrel, or even a raccoon. The boy was already ducking behind the unicorn as she took up a defensive stance and instinctively conjured a shield around their form. “Close your eyes.” She commanded. “Cockatrice may lurk around here.”

“Cockatrice?” The boy shuddered at the name.

“They have the ability to turn whomever looks into their eyes into stone.” The mare warned. “That’s not even the worst of it. Manticores, hydras, chimeras, timberwolves, everything in this forest could tear us to shreds.”

The innate sense of fear overwhelmed David so much that he had almost forgotten to do as his companion commanded and shield his eyes. In any other world and at any other time, the instructions alone would seem silly to follow, but it was the dread that drove his hands over his face. He hobbled and quivered like a helpless, little child beneath the blankets, wondering if the monster in the closet would ever come out and eat him alive. It seemed as though a form of temptation had led him into the devil’s den, and now a price to return would have to be paid. The Devil’s barter was that that price could be anything. The catch? The Devil always knew what he wanted, and sooner or later he was bound to get it.

The rustling went on and grew closer and closer, Starlight’s ears perked and her eyes shut, listening closely for the clucking sound that most cockatrice would emanate whether it be chasing prey or feeling threatened. The thickets trembled, the unicorn tensed, and the brushing of the leaves shrunk, smaller and smaller. The air went silent and still as all of her tension gave away in a long, exasperated gasp. Starlight witnessed a small, snow white rabbit emerge from the foliage before her, rubbing its ears and looking around curiously. David poked his eyes out from between his fingers, blinking on rather disappointingly.

“The terror of the jungle, I presume?” The boy gawked.

Starlight let another hoof fall over her face. “Let’s never speak of this too, shall we?” She let the shield fall. “The last thing we need right now is a load of uneeded stress.” And her ears fell flat.

“Not like I wanna burst your bubble but I still don’t think we have a sure path to the ruins.” David noted. “What’s our best bet? Keep heading south until we stumble over a giant, abandoned castle or something?”

“Our best bet would be to…” Starlight quivered.

“Glimmy? You good?” He stared at her.

And the mare crossed her legs. “…find the little filly’s room.”

“Don’t tell me that rabbit gave you that much of a scare.”

“I’ve been holding this light for almost half an hour, gimme a break!” She grumbled, rubbing her temples once more. “Look, just hang out by yourself for a minute while I go tackle this tinkle.”

“No way! That light’s the only thing keeping me from the one at the end of the tunnel.” He pointed to her horn. “Can’t you at least shine it over here while you go do your thing?”

“I don’t know what you guys think our female organs are capable of, but it’s not like I can do two things at once.” Starlight grew irritated. “This requires focus.”

“Fine, whatever! I’ll just sit over here and wait to become manticore feces, see if I care.” David turned abruptly and started towards the trees off to the side, grumbling to himself all the way.

Soon enough, Starlight’s illumination slowly dimmed away into the forest along with the sound of her hooves hitting the ground, and David slowly surrendered himself to the surrounding darkness. He crossed his arms and tucked his hands beneath his pits, shivering in response to the increasing cold as he thought illfully of his partner. Her quick remarks, invoking as they might have been, were made up with her quick thinking and call to action. The boy supposed upon her words spoken only moments ago and thought of them in a more figurative light, that perhaps Starlight was somewhat like a sister to him after all. She at least had the attitude of one, and the likelihood that she only acted this way to the boy and him alone almost gave him all the more reason to invoke a sense of partnership towards her. Perhaps even to be like a brother to her.

Perhaps, the boy thought more carefully, that is what she needed. Perhaps even, that is what Twilight might have meant by responsibility. The sudden thinking intrusions of Twilight’s image and his role as the Equerry irked a strange sense within. Whoa, whoa, slow it down there, you only just got to know this unicorn all over again only a couple hours ago. Let’s not get any finny ideas. He mentally slapped his conscious back in line, one that snapped him back to his reality, lying alone in the cold, unforgivable and unforgettable dark of the deep, Everfree forest. Suddenly, David felt alone, and more importantly Starlight was gone.

She’d be back soon, anytime now. Just any minute now. Any second now…

“Glim?” David looked up.

No answer.

“Starlight?” The boy stood, nervous and fitful. “Are ya’ done?”

Once again, no answer.

And just like that, the dread settled in. The fear stung his body stiff, and the shadowy loneliness of the forest dug beneath his skin and tingled his senses with a quick plague of brief paralysis. Only a deafening shake and boom could make him move now, and he prayed to any higher being out there listening right now that it would come sooner than later. That was what true dread felt like, and his senses were overwhelmed with the ilk at this very moment. The silence of the forest, was in fact, quiet. Too quiet. Deathly quiet. Not a creature stirred, not a critter crawled, it was as though all had stopped to a foreign, evil presence.

And then it returned. The stench.

Every hair on his body stood on end as the scent stung his nostrils and painted his eyes with stale, stagnant fear. It was not the stench of the timber wolves, but rather something more insidious, something which he had not yet encountered until this very night, and his numbed, cold body could not decide whether he was afraid of the creature’s veil of mystery, or if he was afraid to uncover that veil whether he wanted to or not. David finally captured a sense of feeling in his legs, and the boy slowly took one step after the other backwards. His heel sunk beneath a puddle of substance, perhaps mud. He prayed and prayed that it was mud.

Down his vision went, to the sticky substance beneath his foot. The snow white rabbit lay in a heap of its own blood, eyes slit, innards torn from its stomach. David felt a walnut sized lump in his throat and placed a palm over his mouth, blinking fiercely as the stench grew ever stronger. He was too afraid to call out to Starlight, he was too afraid to move, too afraid to do anything. A glimpse of courage allowed him to survey his surroundings with a blurry, teary gaze. He stopped, squinted. The shadows moved.

“David…?”

The lump in his throat immediately fell to his stomach, and the boy gasped for breath. One day… He thought with all his anger, frustration and fears combined. I’m going to skin that mare alive. And he opened his mouth, albeit his voice scratchy and scared.

“Starlight? I’m over here!” He called. “Goddamn, what took you so long?”

“…”

“Starlight…?” He called again, but nothing warm returned. Only the dread.

Something wasn’t right, something was horribly wrong. Why didn’t she have her horn lit? Where was her light? Unmistakably it was Starlight’s voice, but why hadn’t she cast her light again? The boy’s urge to call out once more quickly died within him, and he took another step or two back in the opposite direction of the voice. It had devolved from being Starlight’s voice to someone else’s voice, something’s voice.

And then, David’s voice. “Starlight?” It mimicked. “I’m over here!”

He stumbled backwards and his breath quickened to a pace like never before. The boy was hyperventilating, adrenaline rushing through at blazing, unbelievable speeds. To his most fortunate fate, his body decided then and there that said adrenaline ought to be best used for one purpose and one purpose alone. Run.

Something sticky caught on his foot, he didn’t care to look. The black vines and leaves sliced by like stinging rain tearing through a terrible wind. Every stomp to the earth felt like a hammer to the heart, and every pound to the heart mimicked the rhythm of a large, tribal drum striking faster and faster! The faster he ran, the closer it got! The closer it got, the more he breathed and laughed and screamed and shouted like a crazed maniac sprinting through a world he was lost in and had no way out! He knew he was getting closer now, the light at the end of the tunnel was upon him like the cold, harsh entrance to the world at the beginning of one’s life. The boy knew in that exact moment that had the hammock below not broke his fall, he could have very well been on his way to a new life.

Everything froze in time, the running had stopped, his back was to the ground and the moonlight shone down upon his body with a protective, enveloping enigma. The chase had come to an end.

The eyes beneath the shade of the forest stared upon his figure with a menacing yet patient gaze. Unlike the gleaming, yellow slits from the beginning, two red dots shot spikes through his core, and quickly turned away in response to even the tiniest and slightest glimpses of light. Once again, all fell quiet, all fell calm, and the chase had come to an end.

David laid there upon his back for an unspecified length of time, the cold stone beneath his outstretched limbs providing assurance of his reality as he thought his trials over and over again. Whatever had been chasing him seemed intent, he was sure, on killing him. Not for food, but for the sinister desire of game. For fun. It was in that quiet instant that the words of the elder Pie sister coursed back through his mind. Whatever this creature is, it is not from this world. As Maud had said. Strange, isn’t it? His eyes wandered down and he tilted upwards, bringing his foot to his center to analyze the strange, sticky substance. The stench returned for a short spell, the smell of copper stinging his nose. It was blood, and his own at that.

Mere seconds later, there was a huff, and a puff, and the heavy, noxious breathing hovered right above the boy’s head. A slimy, foggy drip of drool strung down in front of his face like a viscous string of honey, and the new stench itself oddly enough smelled much like it. David slowly tilted his head upwards to find out why.

There was a wet, beady black snout pulsing and sniffing the boy all over. Dark, shaggy tufts of fur and fangs the size of bowie knives smiled back at him with a sinister grin. The light of the moon was almost completely blotted out by the sheer size of the animal before him, standing upon its hinds paws as it groaned and finally burst with a mighty, grizzly roar. Up until now, David had never encountered a bear, and he most certainly didn’t know that he did in fact have the ability to scream like a nine-year-old little girl.

The great, black-brown, fuzzy behemoth neared the little human with a slowed, growling gait, studying him with pearly black eyes. This, the boy presumed for himself, was indeed the end. At least he wouldn’t go out the way he resented, a soft, swift death lying in a hospital bed, and instead the way he wanted, in some sort of cruel, gut-wrenching and entrail-tearing manner, at the claws of a hulkish predator. Accordingly, the boy curled inward and waited for his fate to come crashing down on him…but it never arrived.

There was a softness, a warmth, an inviting coo that impelled him to peak out from beneath his fingers and stare back at the bear whom was currently being subdued by a small mass of butter-yellow fur, a flowing pink mane, and delicate, blue-green eyes. Her soft, gentle voice was more motherly than anything the boy had ever heard, and slowly he unraveled his form to assess the scene before him.

“Now now, Harry, just because he fell into your hammock doesn’t mean he did it on purpose.” The yellow pony, a pegasus, cooed and quietly unfurled her wings.

Harry, the bear, groaned back a response to which the mare translated over in her head and nodded in understanding, scratching a hoof behind one ear and the other. The grizzly immediately took a liking and settled where he stood, barely having the strength to crawl back over to his hammock as a deep, warm sleep enveloped him whole. Upon this, the mare returned her attention to the sudden visitor with his back to the stone wall, and eyed him cautiously yet caringly.

“Oh, you poor poor thing.” The pegasus fluttered over. “Just look at you, you’ve got cuts and bruises all over. You must be so tired.”

Not a word escaped his lips, the presence of the gentle pony alone and her overwhelming grace and kindness was enough to quell the questions bouncing about his mind. Finally, he felt his muscles and tension ease away as he simply gave in to her inviting embrace.

“The forest is no place for the lost and lonely.” She crawled beneath his arm and poked her head out, her sweet, grinning face tucked beside his chest. “We’ll get you all patched up in no time. Can you walk?”

Once again, not a word. He simply gave her a nod and a small smile of gratitude.

“Good.” She smiled back. “Come now, the cottage isn’t far.”

Almost undoubtedly, green was this pegasus’ favorite color. It showed in the exterior and shined from within the cottage as well, from cushions to furniture and even silverware. Oak and birch reigned the living space with cozy wooden floors accompanied by welcome mats lying practically everywhere, and the boy soon realized these were soft places meant for the animals that crawl around the cottage day and night. Critters, both big and small, seldom scattered at such an hour of the night, but the glimpses he caught of the chipmunks and mice running about told him he ought to watch his step while inside. If anything, he most certainly should have been watching his step in the forest in the dead of night. He couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind at the moment when he thought walking through barefoot was a good idea.

David peeked downward at his foot resting above a small, blue tub filled with foggy brown water, most likely small doses of his own blood. The quiet, yellow pony studied the cut in his heel carefully and rinsed the spot thoroughly.

“This might sting a little.” She said calmly, applying a layer of an unknown cream, and pressing a gauze strip to the wound as she wrapped a fluffy white bandage around his ankle to hold it snug. She studied her work carefully and gave an approving nod, turning to the boy. “There now, all better?”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am.” Was all he thought to say.

Her ears perked to the first hearing of his voice. “Don’t mention it.” She replied. “Ponies and critters alike always knock upon my door asking for help, and you’re no exception.” She rose from her stool and began towards the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”

“Y-Yes, please.” David nodded.

The pegasus returned another nod before ducking back into the kitchen, leaving the boy alone. David took the time to observe his surroundings, sighting bird houses, catwalks and even mouse trails hanging above the rafters to accommodate for the extra residents of the cottage. His desires to get up and explore were put to rest by the sting in his heel, reminding him that he ought to take another moment or two to rest lest the doctor catch him. A moment later and the pegasus was back in the living space with a cute, pink tray lying upon her open wing, two small tea cups and a kettle resting on top.

“You’re Fluttershy, aren’t you?”

Fluttershy acknowledged him and rested the tray to the stool. “There’s nopony else I’d rather be.” She answered with a small blush.

He opened his mouth but shut it back up, lest he say something too stupid or worth nobody’s time. This mare was too kind, too generous even, and he swiftly thought himself unworthy. “I’m sorry, I must’ve caused a bit of havoc for you.” He began. “You’re a very good pony, and you have a lot to take care of, that I see.” He stood abruptly. “I should get going.”

“Now wait just a moment, mister.” Fluttershy hovered in front of him, hooves on her hips and an eyebrow cocked. “You’re not going to leave without taking even a single sip of your tea, now are you?”

“I-I, uh-”

“And secondly, I don’t believe I gave you permission to stand on your wound just yet. I don’t want to see you lay a foot out that door until you’re ready to walk again. Do I make myself clear?”

David blinked, once with shock, another for the registry of her words as he dutifully obeyed and promptly laid his rump back to the couch. Her upfront nature eased away as she rested back to the floor and folded her wings to her barrel, eliciting a small, slow breath.

“Thank you.” She said, and reached for the kettle.

All the while she busied herself with the tea, the boy sat with his hands folded in his lap like a student whom had just received a lecture from the teacher. Or even so, a puppy scolded by its owner. The humiliation settled deeply as one epiphany after another slowly rose to the base of his senses. A teacup filled with a soothingly warm aroma and inviting liquid was neatly rested into his slender, pink hands, and the boy allowed a curt nod before raising the drink to his lips and giving a smack or two of satisfaction. Quietly, the cup trembled lightly in his hands, and once again he told himself he did not deserve this.

“I know you may not want to hear it, most ponies don’t.” Fluttershy began calmly. “But I only ever get assertive with my animals when they don’t do what I believe is best for them. Sometimes, a pony needs to be reminded of these things too. They may think they know what’s best for them, but if you want to show them that bit of kindness you’re so ready to offer, it takes a little push and a shove first.” The pegasus took a small sip, and continued. “We’re all built different, but deep down we all deserve a little kindness.”

And the cup in his hands trembled all the more. Whether it was of fear, of anger, of displeasure or an onslaught of self-victimization, the boy simply could not decide. Only when Fluttershy’s hoof slowly wandered over the boy’s forearm and rested calmly upon his skin did the shaking stop and his eyes wandered to the calm, caring look the pegasus had been maintaining ever since their meeting. Only then did David see it, the bags beneath her eyes and that tired stare in her blue-green gaze. For such a small, harmless, butter-yellow pony, the mare had been through a whole lot, and she understood it all.

“I’m such an idiot…” He rested his head back to the couch and stared at the ceiling.

“Of course not.” Fluttershy returned. “You know I’m here to listen. Tell me everything.”

And so, he did just that. Despite the hour of the night, despite how tired they were, the pony and the human enjoyed little jokes and tales over a set of well brewed tea. The boy told her of his arrival, the encounter in the ruins and what he planned on doing next. To this the mare’s eyes widened in response, not so much out of worry but rather out of realization of a certain friend of hers who lived in the Everfree and would undoubtedly help him on his journey. It was only then that the sudden realization of his own struck David to the core like needles to his chest, and his heart dropped to his stomach.

“Oh my God, Starlight…” He stood abruptly once more. “I left her in the woods all alone!”

“Wait~!” The pegasus called to him.

“I’m sorry, Fluttershy, but I have to get back out there.”

He was gone before the mare had any other protests to provide, but she knew now it wasn’t as though any of them would stop him this time. David rounded the cottage and hurdled the fence dividing the backyard from the tree line of the Everfree. Into the deep dark the boy hustled, this time with confidence, this time with a clear purpose. In spite of being afraid, he faced the fears laid before him.

“Watch out for poison joke!” Fluttershy squeaked into the night.