Heart of Destruction Part 9

Part 9: Wherein Twilight Asks Anon About His Past
>The past week has been uneventful. Most of the ponies are still afraid of you. Fluttershy doesn’t like how her animals freak out around you. Rainbow doesn’t like how your presence robs her of flight. Pinkie doesn’t like how dark and gloomy the world becomes when she gets too close to you. Rarity doesn’t like your bizarre form. And Applejack, well, she just doesn’t even try to hide that she hates your guts. Only Twilight seems comfortable around you, and at first you felt the same. As of late, however, you find yourself feeling…a strange discomfort inside during her visits. It’s a feeling you haven’t felt in a while, and it worries you.
>In addition to interviewing you about your world, she’s been also been working on understanding your apparent teleportation. She’s brought some basic books on magic for you to read. If you are capable of magic, as you both suspect, then you’ll need to learn to use it if you are to find a way home. Unfortunately, your studies have not been going well. So far, you’ve failed to perform even the most simple of spells. You figure either you aren’t doing it right, or your body hasn’t absorbed enough magic yet. Add that to Twilight’s lack of success in finding any spell that would allow you to cross dimensions, not to mention the amount of magic required to do such a spell, and you figure you’re stuck here for a while.
>To your surprise, you’re finding yourself less and less bothered by that. Despite how odd you are starting to feel around Twilight, you truly enjoy your conversations with her. It’s refreshing to have someone so interested in what you have to say, and who has so much to offer in response. Indeed, you often find the conversations drifting away from the intended topic, as it had today.
> “So, you’re saying Pinkie Pie’s Pinkie Sense is connected to her random personality?” says Twilight.
“That’s what I suspect. If you think about it, most methods of divination have some element of randomness to them. At least, that’s how it is on my world. Astrology, cartomancy, augury, all of them use arbitrary meanings assigned to random patterns.”
> “I suppose the idea is that when conscious choice is removed, it leaves fate as the deciding factor.”
“Exactly. It’s nonsense where I come from, but on a magic saturated world like yours, it’s possible that she really does have some connection to fate, or whatever.  Because she’s so random, her body is like a living tarot deck.”
> “An interesting hypothesis, Anonymous,” says Twilight, nodding her head, “I may have to resume my studies on her…Not that I’ll devote any less time to helping you, of course.”
“I appreciate that, Twilight. Really, I feel like I don’t thank you nearly enough for all that you’ve done for me.”
> “I keep telling you, don’t worry about it. You’re my friend. I’m happy to help you.”
>She pauses, seeing this as an opportunity to change the conversation to your personal life. Even though you’ve been very open about your world, you are always very guarded about information relating to yourself, despite Twilight’s growing curiosity.
> “What about you, Anon? Do you have many friends back in your world?”
“A few, Twilight, a few. I get along with people well enough, but honestly I’m not close to anyone like you are with your friends.”
>Twilight lowers her roll of parchment and her eyes meet with yours, causing you to nervously look away.
> “I think I understand. I used to be like that myself. I was more interested in reading and studying than I was in meeting other ponies. Was it like that for you too? Were you just too busy?”
“…Not quite.”
>Twilight says nothing for a moment, but simply stares at you, willing you to continue.
“Twilight, those scrolls of yours. You say they’re parchment. What exactly are they made of?”
> “Parchment’s wood pulp, just like regular paper. I’m not exactly sure what they do to make it more long lasting and stronger, but it’s basically paper.”
“Hmmm. Where I’m from, parchment is made from skin.”
> “What?”
“Yeah. Usually cow or sheep.”
>Twilight sighs, and then gives you a sharp look.
> “Why do you do that?” she demands.
“Do what?”
> “That. You’re always giving me these horrific details. Talking about that Hatler guy-”
“Hitler.”
> “Or how that one man who was nailed to a piece of wood, or nuclear weapons, factory farming, religious terrorism, and all those other awful things. You’re trying to scare me, aren’t you?”
“It is funny, watching you squirm,” you say, with a grin.
> “Anon, I’m being serious. You’re trying to drive me away. Why?”
>Your grin evaporates from the heat of her harsh tone. You’ve made her mad. This upsets you.
“…I’m sorry Twilight,” you say, shamefully, “I-I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
> “It’s okay,” she says, her voice softening, “just tell me why. Do you not like having me around?”
“No! No, I like…I like your visits. I like talking to you. It’s... it’s the best part of my day.”
> “Then why?”
>For a moment, you say nothing. You look away, as if the barn wall could tell you the right words to say.
“I don’t know,” you finally say.
> “I don’t believe that,” says Twilight. Her eyes widen, as if an idea has suddenly occurred to her. “You know what I think? Fluttershy says that lots of animals, when they feel threatened, their first reaction is to attempt to scare their enemy away. That’s what you’re doing, aren’t you? You’re scared.”
>Now you’re the one who’s glaring.
“I faced six timber wolves armed with only a hammer. I fear nothing, not from my world or from yours.”
> “Then why are you always avoiding certain questions? Whenever I ask about your personal life, you always change the subject. Why are you afraid to let me in?”
“I’m not afraid,” you snap at her, “It’s not your business. My life has nothing to do with your research.”
> “This isn’t about research! I’m your friend! You can tell me anything!”
“If you’re my friend, then you’ll leave me alone. I think we’re done for today.”
> “Anon, please, don’t-”
“Goodbye, Twilight.”
>You get up from your chair and storm off to your bed in the corner. You hear Twilight sigh, and angrily she packs up her saddlebag and walks away.
> “I’ll see you tomorrow, Anon.”
>You say nothing in response. You simply lie in your bed, staring at the ceiling of the barn. After a moment, you call out.
“I can hear you. Stop lurking around and come in.”
> Silhouetted in the sunlit barn door, you can make out a pony in a cowboy hat.
“Hello Applejack,” you say.
> “Ah jes’ saw Twilight. She looked upset. Whadja say ta her?”
>Straight to the point. That’s Applejack for you.
“Why should you care? I know you don’t like her visiting me so often. I thought you’d be happy to see us arguing.”
> “Ah’m never happy seeing a friend like that. Now, what did ya say ta her?” she repeats.
>You sigh, then sit up and look her in the eye.
“She was asking about my personal life. I didn’t want to share. She accused me of being afraid. I…got angry and told her to leave. That’s all.”
> “She cares about ya Anon. And you got angry because she showed it. Because she acted like a friend.”
>For a moment, you say nothing and just stare at the ground. When you finally find the right words, you respond.
“She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t care about me.”
>For just a moment, you think see AJ’s expression soften before returning to the glare she usually reserves for you.
>“And why’s that?”
“The closer she gets, the harder it will be when I leave. I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt her. But I’m afr-…I think that’s what’s going to happen.”
> “Ya don’t know that fer sure. Things migh’ not turn out so bad.”
>You turn and look AJ in her green eyes, and sure enough, she looks away.
“You’re not a good liar, Applejack. You don’t really believe that.”
> “Yer right. But what I do believe is that there’re things that hurt more than heartache. Things like regret and uncertainty. Twilight’s not the sort to leave questions unanswered. She likes certainty and facts. If ya aint clear with her, if you leave her questioning how ya feel, she’s gonna let them questions gnaw at her for the rest of her life. So be direct. Be open with yer emotions, even if ya are scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
> “You aint much of a liar either, Anon,” she says, flashing a grin, “Oh, and one more thing. Ah know yer afraid of hurting her accidently, but Ah want ya to know, if ya ever hurt her on purpose, Ah’ll cave yer bucking skull in.”
“…Thanks for the talk Applejack.”
> “Don’t go getting’ used ta it, Sugarcube. Just ‘cuz I’m givin’ ya advice don’t make us friends.”
>You watch as she walks out. Funny, she only ever calls her friends Sugarcube.