Metaphorical Future

“Myst…hey Myst, time to wake up, come on now.”

The swirling patterns of grey and black started to fade as consciousness slowly returned to the young filly. Her eyes fluttered, the darkness of the room making the transition easier than it would have been. A large blue coloured blur filled her vision looking roughly pony shaped but the details escaped her. She blinked hard, giving a small moan as she did, causing the room to focus a little. Another blink and the trail ends of her slumber ebbed away and left the world clear once more. Stood over her was a blue pony, his eyes looking concerned and worried, but for the young filly only one sight filled her gaze. She screamed, shuffling backwards and crashing into a nearby wall.

“No!” she called, pressing herself against the wall, “No let me go! Don’t hurt me! Please!”

“Myst!” responded Metaphor, the unicorn making a move to step forwards but withdrawing slightly, “It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe! Calm down…please?”

His voice was soft, different to how it had been earlier. The tone cut through the young filly’s fear, silencing her screams. She was still shaking as she stared back at the unicorn. Metaphor sighed and slowly turned away slightly, his head and tail drooping.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “I didn’t mean to do what I did earlier. I was crazed and…no, that’s no excuse. I know what I nearly did.”

Metaphor wasn’t quite sure what to say. He turned back toward the filly, raising his head slightly, “I know you’re scared but please believe me…I’m not going to hurt you.”

The filly looked at him for a moment, unsure as to what to believe. And yet despite what had happened earlier she felt compelled to believe him. Slowly she stood up, taking a few nervous steps across the room towards him. It was then that she stopped, looking around the room they were in. There were no bars, no dead security stallion, no blaring alarms.

The room was small, barely a couple of pony strides across each side. In a corner of the room sat a pile of dry hay that looked like it had been slept on. A small table occupied one wall, on it a burning candle sent flickering flames across the surface. Opposite the table was a single metal locker, the door half open allowing the filly to see a couple of winter jackets and other supplies that hung inside it.

“Where are we?” she asked slowly.

“Some old survival bunker on the outskirts of sector four,” replied Metaphor as he gave a glance around the room, “Didn’t even know these things still existed…but it’s a good job it does…don’t think I would have made it much further if I hadn’t stumbled on it.”

“But…what…”

Metaphor gave a sigh, “What happened? You deserve to know at least.”

Metaphor crossed over to the pile of hay and slowly lowered himself down onto it. As he did the filly easily caught sight of the bandages that were wrapped around his middle; the dark red stain of dried blood easily visible through the fabric. He gave a small cough as he settled himself into the hay.

“I was seconds away from killing you,” he started, his tone ashamed and saddened, “If you hadn’t flailed like you had you wouldn’t be here right now…and neither would I.”

“What do you mean?” asked the filly, edging slightly closer as she spoke.

“You kicked me. My magic might have been holding you in the air but it wasn’t holding you still,” he replied raising a hoof to his horn, “I don’t know how it happened but you managed to kick my horn. Sent my magic into another panic attack, guess it must have shorted out the effect.”

“Effect of what?”

“The magic dampener. We unicorns are always expelling magical energy. You can’t see it but it’s there, like a safety valve I guess. If we don’t use magic for a while we have to expel it or…well, that’s what the dampener was designed for. By stopping a unicorn from expelling magic you could not only control them but it would eventually cause madness…but not before the unicorn goes through such pain that they will do anything to stop it.”

“So that magic thingy…”

“Yes, that’s what caused me to go crazy…but if it wasn’t for you I would be dead right now. Thank you.”

I felt strange to be thanking the filly. Metaphor rarely spoke to anyone, never mind thanked anyone for what they may have done. The filly edged closer still, her nerves slowly leaving her as Metaphor told his story.

“I must have passed out for a moment and when I came to all I could see was the devastation. The alarm was blaring and I knew I didn’t have much time. I tried to wake you but you were unconscious. All I could do was scoop you up and run. I managed to find a way into the service tunnels below the base and made my escape from there…but not before I was given this,” Metaphor motioned to the bandage round his middle, “As I said I was lucky to find this place when I did.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the filly.

“Like nothing you can imagine, it was a .3 round from near point blank range. I’m amazed it managed to miss everything vital but that doesn’t mean it’s not done any damage.”

“What will you do?”

“What will I do?” asked Metaphor before giving a small unamused chuckle to himself, “Nothing I can do. I was sentenced to death by those who were, for lack of a better term, family. The enemy will shoot me on sight. I’m wounded, have nowhere to go and the food supplies we have won’t last more than a day or two if we’re lucky.”

Metaphor gave a sigh and shifted his position slightly, curling up into a ball in the hay.

“Look, it would probably be best if you just go. Take some of the food and leave,” he continued, “There’s no point in you staying here with me. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds us and when they do they’ll kill us both…if we don’t die of starvation first. I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you. Go on, just leave, there’s nothing left in this world for me now.”

As the filly watched a single tear formed in the corner of Metaphor’s eye before he closed it causing the tear to roll down his cheek. For a moment she just stood there and looked at him. What was she to do? She looked at the door, the small window in it bordered with a layer of snow. She was free again…but what was she free for? She couldn’t remember anything. It was like her whole life before being found by the Celestians had never happened! And yet she felt drawn to something, something important. The Element of Harmony! That’s what it was…she didn’t know why but they were important. She needed to find them, to protect them, to bring them all together!

She looked back at Metaphor. He was a sorry sight to behold, a broken pony with no reason to care or live any more. Had he even had a reason before all this? Had he simply been doing what he was told? An automaton who’s only purpose had been to kill because he was told to. Another tear rolled down his cheek as she watched.

No, she couldn’t do this alone…she didn’t even know what she really had to do. But maybe he would…

As Metaphor lay still he felt a slight warmness snuggle up beside him. Opening his eyes he found the young filly lying beside him, her small body pressed into his. Once again he didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t want to go…” murmured the filly, “There is something important I have to do…but I can’t do it alone. I don’t know how, I can’t remember. Will you help me?”

“I…what do you mean something important?” asked Metaphor.

“Do you remember the Element of Harmony?”

Metaphor was silent for a moment, “Is it real? I mean…the Elements of Harmony…are they real?”

“I don’t know…but they are important. Something is telling me they are important. I need to find them…all of them…will you help?”

Metaphor remained silent for a moment. Tales of the Elements of Harmony flooded back to him. Stories of friendship and good versus evil. Stories of triumphs of light over dark and of love over pain. Could they really be true? Was there really more to this world than what he knew right now? Was there even a chance?

He looked at the filly’s eyes next to him. She was looking right at him, her earlier fear gone and replaced by that one emotion he had seen in them back in the jail cell…hope. With a small sigh he gently nodded his head.

“Thank you…” she murmured as she pressed herself harder into his side.

For a moment the pair stayed silent, the occasional howl of wind outside breaking the silence. Metaphor was starting to feel the tide of sleep approaching as the filly spoke once again.

“Earlier…when I woke up…why did you call me Myst?” she asked.

“It was the name of a friend of mine from a long time ago,” replied Metaphor after a moment, “She was a good friend and…well I know you said you couldn’t remember your own name…so I thought…”

“I like it…thank you…”

Metaphor felt an odd sensation pass over him, a warmth that didn’t come from the heat of the filly’s body. Unconsciously the corners of his mouth turned upwards slightly, a faint smile spreading across his face for a moment.

“Rest for now, we’ll talk later,” he said after a moment.

“Ok…”