Mirrors

The first glimpse of light piercing through the dense canopy of leaves above was like a promise, a silent whisper of hope to Clark's weary eyes. His journey had been a relentless battle against the Everfree Forest's capricious whims. Thorns had shredded his clothes, turning them into mere rags that barely clung to his bruised body, while the forest's creatures had left their mark with every snarl and scratch.

For six long days, he had pushed on, driven by an unyielding need to find the legendary mirror pool. The whispers of its whereabouts had haunted his dreams, leading him through a labyrinth of twisted roots and shadowy glens. His skin, once fair, was now a canvas of grime and pain, each bruise a testament to his unwavering resolve. The smell of damp earth and decaying foliage had become his constant companion, as had the gnawing ache of hunger that clawed at his insides.

Clark had faced the Everfree's monstrous inhabitants with a fierce determination. He had walked through a nest of some kind, and giant bugs with their armored shells had become his most daunting adversaries. Time and again, he had thrust his makeshift spears into their carapaces, the wood splintering against their impenetrable exoskeletons. With every failed attempt, his frustration grew, his muscles screamed for rest, and the shadows grew longer. Yet, with a grim smile, he had crafted new spears, each one stronger than the last, fueled by his hatred for the creatures that had stolen his peace.

He didn't dare to think what lay deeper within the Everfree's embrace. The creatures that had already tested his mettle were nightmares come to life, so what horrors awaited him further in? He knew that the forest's depths were a place where even the bravest of hearts trembled and the strongest of limbs grew weak. The whispers of those who had ventured in and never returned danced around him like a sinister lullaby, hinting at the perils that lurked beyond the reach of the fading sunlight.

On the seventh day, the forest's deceptive maze finally revealed its hidden treasure. Clark stumbled upon the entrance to a vast cave system, the gaping mouth of a creature that had swallowed the light itself. The air grew colder, the dampness clinging to him like an unwelcome embrace. His breaths grew shallow and ragged, not from exhaustion, but from the anticipation of what lay ahead. He knew that the mirror pool was within reach, but the journey was far from over.

The cavern was a monstrous maw, its walls stretching upwards into darkness, disappearing into the abyss. The floor was slick with moisture, and the distant echo of dripping water taunted him with the promise of his destination. He stepped cautiously into the abyss, his makeshift torch casting flickering shadows across the ancient stones. The smell of dampness was overwhelming.

The path grew steeper, the air colder. He could feel the weight of the earth pressing down on him, the ancient whispers of the cave's secrets resonating in his very bones. And then, as he rounded a bend, the cavern opened up to reveal the mirror pool. Its still, crystalline surface reflected the flickering torchlight, casting an eerie glow that danced on the cavern's walls. The sight was almost too much to bear - a bastion of beauty in the heart of the beast that was the Everfree. But the price of beauty, he knew, was often paid in blood and sweat. And so, with a deep, fortifying breath, he descended the last few steps, ready to face whatever awaited him at the pool's edge.

His legs gave out the moment he reached the pool's shore. Six days of adrenaline and fear had taken their toll, and now, with his destination within arm's reach, his body finally rebelled. He collapsed, the torch rolling away to cast the cavern into darkness. His stomach growled in protest at the meager meals of raw fish and roasted bug, and his mouth watered at the thought of proper food. The fish had been a gamble - a risk he'd taken after a day of thirst and hunger had driven him to the river. The taste had been metallic and alien, and the knowledge that it might have harbored parasites had made every bite a battle against his gag reflex. The bug had been more tolerable, but the effort of starting a fire with a bow drill had almost exhausted him entirely.

The water of the mirror pool looked inviting, a serene oasis in the otherwise oppressive gloom. But he knew better than to be fooled by appearances. He had heard tales of such pools, of the magic they were rumored to contain. He approached with caution, his hand reaching for the water's surface. The pool's reflection grew clearer, and he caught a glimpse of his own weary visage staring back at him. The reflection was not just a simple mirroring, though - it was as if he was peering into his very soul.

That day he rested, every thought in his head swirling with the pangs of starvation. His dreams were filled with feasts of roasted meats and warm bread, with goblets of ale clinking together in cheer. His stomach had become a ravenous beast, clawing at the confines of his ribs. He lay by the mirror pool, his eyes closed, willing his body to find reprieve from the constant hunger. The forest outside the cavern had become a taunting mirage of food that remained just out of reach.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness. His thoughts turned greedy, his hunger not just for food, but for knowledge and power. He imagined the look on the faces of the people of earth when he returned, not only with the tales of his survival, but with the secrets of the Everfree and Equestria.

He woke up the next day, the mirror pool still shimmered, beckoning him closer. He sat up, his muscles protesting with every movement. He knew what he had to do. With trembling hands, he reached out to the water's edge, whispering the rime to the pool.

Clark took a deep breath and dipped himself into the mirror pool. The water was colder than the chill of the cave, but it washed away the grime of his journey. He felt the tingle of ancient magic coiling around his body, seeping into his very essence. As he emerged, the clone looked at him.

He did this twenty more times and the clones grew solid before his eyes, each one a perfect replica of his weary form, yet with a fierce determination in their eyes that mirrored his own. They looked at him, waiting for instruction, a silent army born from his own will and desperation.

Each clone knew their purpose, ingrained within them at the moment of creation. They were extensions of Clark's being, fiercely loyal to the prime version of themselves. They had no names yet, no thoughts that wernt his own, only the singular drive to serve and protect. They had been born from his pain and would live for his cause because he would do the same.

"Attention!" Clark shouted, his voice echoing through the cavern. The clones formed up and snapped to attention, each one standing tall and proud, their eyes locked onto their creator. He felt a strange power surge through him, a sense of control over these new-born entities. It was intoxicating.

He began to name them, starting with the first one that had emerged. "You," he said, pointing to the nearest clone, "are One. Your purpose is to lead a scouting party and report back on any threats we may encounter. Two, you will lead a team to gather food. Three, you will help the rest fortify our camp." He continued down the line, naming them in order, each name a command, a role to be fulfilled. "Four through Six, you will form a defensive perimeter around the pool. Seven through Ten, you will explore the upper levels of the cavern for resources."

The clones nodded in understanding, their movements synchronized. Clark couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at their obedience. "The rest of you," he said, gesturing to the remaining ten, "will venture into the Everfree Forest and bring back anything of value. Weapons, supplies, anything that can aid us in our quest for survival and knowledge."

“And you rat fuck meat heads will have jack shit, not even a name until you distinguish yourselves!” Clark barked at the last batch of clones, his voice bouncing off the cavern walls. He had never felt so alive, so powerful. The clones looked at him expectantly, hungry for direction.

“Now break formation and head out!” Clark ordered, and his clones obeyed without hesitation. They dispersed into the gloomy Everfree Forest, their torches casting an eerie glow in the foggy air. The sound of their footsteps grew distant as they embarked on their assigned missions.

Twenty more are born from the mirror pool, each one a reflection of Clark's desperation and hope. He names them twenty through forty, assigning them the grim task of venturing into the Everfree Forest to die uncovering its edible plants and investigating the chaos magnet that was Ponyville. They march out, a line of faces that slowly vanish into the dense foliage, leaving only the echo of their footsteps.

Clark watches them go, his mind racing with the weight of his creation. He sighs and slumps against the cavern wall, the cold stone pressing into his back. The silence that follows is a stark contrast to the cacophony of the forest outside. The flickering torchlight casts jumpy shadows across his new companions, a reminder that his fate is now intertwined with theirs. He shouldn't have made it this far. The Everfree had claimed so many before him, swallowed them whole without a trace. But here he was, not just surviving, but thriving. Or so he hoped.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he had cheated death. The trip had been a series of narrow escapes and painful lessons. The thirst, the hunger, the fear - it had all been so intense that he had begun to doubt his own sanity. Yet here he sat, surrounded by the fruits of his desperation. He shouldn't have survived the trek, not with his lack of experience and preparation. But survive he had, and now he had to deal with the consequences of his reckless lack of becoming a corpse.

“Would Discord have made this easier?” Clark mused aloud, his voice bouncing off the cavern walls. The deity's chaotic nature wouldn’t have allowed his organs to remain neatly in place unless it served to create greater turmoil in the grand tapestry of the world. But here he was, his insides still where they were meant to be, not rearranged by the grotesque whims of some Everfree predator. It was a grim comfort to think that his survival had been a stroke of divine intervention rather than luck. He had always been more of a believer in self-determination than fate.

He stood, brushing the dust from his pants. He was not going to be some pawn in a cosmic chess game.

He waited, his nails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to pace. Every second counted, every calorie preserved was vital. The silence was a heavy blanket that smothered the echoes of his thoughts, leaving only the distant sound of dripping water to keep him company. Finally, two of his clones returned, their faces a mirror of his own confusion and frustration.

"Ponyville," he barked, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. "Where is it?"

The clones looked at each other before One spoke up, his voice echoing in the vast space. "We couldn't find it, . Only the mountain where Canterlot is said to stand."

Clark's jaw tightened. "What do you mean you couldn't find it? It's a small village for fuck's sake!"

Two took a step forward, his expression solemn. "The land has changed. The city is not where it should be. Only the mountain remains, with signs of heavy construction on its side."

The room spun around him as the implications of their words settled in his gut. Just how far did Discord send him back in time and for what purpose, the thought was maddening. All his plans now lay in ruins, buried under the weight of centuries he had not anticipated.