The Secondary Saga

[Guu]

Raw Onion trotted forward precariously into the few dry spots in the swamp. She feared what the water had in store for her. She would take to the skies, in fact, her wings were itching to go. However, every single thought of doing so was shoved to the back of her mind as something was keeping her hooves on the ground.

The dry spots were getting narrower and narrower. Eventually, she was forced to jump from spot to spot. They got so small, she could barely stand on them with a single hoof, no less four.

Recognizing her defeat, she looked down into the water. It was murky, but she couldn’t see any sign of life beneath the waves. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she drudged a single hoof into the liquid, her extremity disappearing into it. She drudged another, moving her body forward into the muck. Each step inward submerged more and more of her body, until the water was up to the bottom of her cutie mark.

She would continue to move forward, slowly moving inch by inch. The horrible smell of the water permeated her nose. Even with her years of training, it took every ounce of her focus not to vomit as every breath brought in another lung full of the putrid indescribable odor.

Further and further, praying that she’ll eventually get to the end. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, she just kept her mind focused, almost like meditation, just continuing to remind herself that the edge was just another step forward, that she would clear this thing in a zap.

But all the force on her body eventually took its toll. Eventually, she had to stop to rest. She stood still, submerged, just to take a breath and let her muscles recover. They sore like a bitch. She winced as the blood flooded back into her limbs, bringing in a wave of new pains to add to the ones she was already experiencing.

She tried not to think. She didn’t know why, but her mind was trying to block out all thought. This may have been a defensive measure, as any good soldier knows that giving up often means death and negative thought in this place would certainly lead her down that route.

At first, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, a figure was in the air above her. She could hear the flapping of wings that suspended the being in the space above. Her eyes came to focus. A Pegasus with golden fur was hovering above her. Her forest-green mane was curled like curtain, her tail tied up in a bun. She was directing her cold black, serious eyes down on the mare through a pair of rectangle spectacles.

“M-mom!” She said, her voice cutting in surprise and terror.

She did not respond. For the longest time, she just glared down on her.


-----


[spoiler]Years ago, a young Raw Onion was inside a house made of clouds. The young little filly was gleefully putting books, pencils, and papers into her saddlebag. She was extra happy today. As she put the last item in the bag, she looked over to her flank. A brand spanking new Onion cutie mark adorned it. A smile a mile wide, she trotted down the fluffly cloud stairs, full intent to leave for what would have been another day of school. However, her mother suddenly stood in the way. In one hoof, she was holding up a pink dress with frills and laces.

“I think you deserve to be pretty today honey. I think you should wear this!”

Little raw took one glance and then gave her mom a suspicious look

“Why do you want me to wear that?” She asked, skeptically.

“A mother can’t want her daughter to be beautiful?”

“You just want me to wear clothing that’ll cover up my cutie mark, don’t you?” The little on said, eyeing down her mother.

“It’s for your own good, Raw.”

“Forget it!” She said, storming passed her and out the door.

She made her way to the school building, again made of clouds. Heading down the hallways, she could see all the military recruitment posters hung up on the walls. Sayings like “Earn your wings!” and “Pegasopolis Wants You!” The posters were more prevalent than the ones about education or self-esteem. She hardly noticed them anymore.

Eventually, she got to the classroom, stocked with cloud chairs, desks, and chalkboard. Most of the class were already in their seats. As she walked across the class, she proudly stuck her head in the air as her cutie mark featured prominently. Eventually, the rest of class slowly peered over, resting their eyes on her no-longer-featureless flank; most just kind of glared at it, expressionless, only taking note of it. As more ponies noticed it, the more the air of silence spread amongst the class. By the time she got in her seat, you could hear a pin fall it was so quiet.

The class was silent, until the teacher came in. She wore her hair up tightly knotted. She already had her “learning stick” out, held aloft from her wing.

“Good morning class.”

“Good morning Mrs. Rain Digger”

She eyed the entire class. The unusual silence meant only one thing: another student had got his or her cutie mark and they were awaiting her approval.

She continued to look over the class before she finally found little Raw Onion. She stepped in closer and inspected her mark closely. As she pulled away, she gave her what felt like the most disapproving look. Onion’s heart sank into her horseshoes.

“Your cutie mark is an onion.” She said plainly. “What does it mean?”

A frog was in her throat, her stomach was filled with butterflies. She couldn’t say her passion was cooking now. Not with that face looking down on her.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

She quickly thought up an answer, spouting out the first thing that made sense.

“It-it represents how much I’ll make my enemies cry!”

“What?”

“You know, onions make ponies cry, that’s what I do to my enemies.”

There was a long pause in the classroom. Eventually, the teacher averted her gaze.

“Very good.”

Many of the students around her patted her on the shoulder and congratulated her on an awesome cutie mark. Years later, that lie would turn into a career as a killer.[/spoiler]
-----


“You were right mom. They did judge me. They wouldn’t see me as equal as a chef.” She said solemnly, tears soaking her face. “I would have been damned in my dream job, I am damned in my military job. I’m a monster no matter what I do.”

Took her a moment to realize, but body was now further down into the swamp, crawling it’s way to her neck. Her feet were glued into the floor. She was trapped and sinking. Not that she cared anymore.

A drenched wing pulled itself out of the muck and grabbed her cell phone. It was waterproof so it was still functional. She took a picture of herself, her body stuck in the muck, and she attached it to an e-mail that read: “I’m sorry mom. You were right.” She sent it off. It was the least she could do, she felt like such a failure.

“I’m sorry.” She said, she wanted it to be her last words.