Letting out a cough, Tarnished Teapot looked at Spike. The dragon was now small, so very small, and they were all horned, so very horned. Spike of course had no idea why the spell hadn’t lasted longer, and Tarnish didn’t expect him to know, either. This was just how it was and there was no point in being upset about it, even though Spike was quite upset.

Tarnish had no idea how to comfort the little dragon, who stared at him with wide, sad eyes. Moreover, Tarnish didn’t know what to do for Maud, who was still slipping in and out of a feverish, delirious state.

“We can see the sun now, the sky is hazy but not full of ash, I say we stick it out here. I’ll see if I can send a message to Twilight if the mirror has enough charge. I’ll do what I can to flush Maud of the harmful thaumaton radiation… I’m fine, but Spike… I’ll need to check you too.” Tarnish gave the little dragon an apologetic glance.

“Yeah yeah, I understand. It’s nothing personal,” Spike replied.

“I need for you stay and watch Maud.” Tarnish looked down at Spike with one raised eyebrow. “Keep giving her water. Just pour it over her lips and keep the cloth over her face wet. I am going to find some yarrow… there should be some around here. This place wasn’t completely ravaged by the volcano. I’ll go beyond the crystal trees around us and see what I can find.”

“What’s yarrow do?” Spike asked.

“Yarrow has high natural concentrations of salicylic acid, among other things. It’ll help reduce Maud’s fever by making her sweat. It is also a natural painkiller, but the effect is rather mild unless it is concentrated somehow,” Tarnish replied. He paused, thoughtful, surprised that he remembered and knew as much as he knew. All those hours of studying had paid off. Using his magic, he adjusted his goggles, trying to knock the dust and ash off of the lenses.

“Are you going to be safe?” Spike looked up at Tarnish, his face pinched with worry. “Twilight said I’m supposed to keep you safe.”

“I have Flamingo. Anything I can’t outwit, she can deal with.” Tarnish nodded and gave a snort. “I should be going. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Tarnish tied a section of Maud’s smock over his face, wet it with some water from his canteen, prodded Spike with his hoof, and then took off at a trot.

As Tarnish moved through the still woods, he could not help but notice the eerie silence. Every few yards, he paused and ripped some bark of off a tree, marking his path and his progress. He thought about pulling out Flamingo, but he wanted to keep the silence. For whatever reason, Tarnish did not feel safe. He hoped that Spike and Maud were safe.

The ash lay across the ground like snow. Not as much had fallen here, it dusted the ground and trees, leaving behind a layer of grubby grey. As he walked, he held his mirror out, trying to let it recharge. He must have looked funny, appearing as he did, a unicorn in a pith helmet, wearing goggles, his face covered, walking through an ash covered forest while holding a mirror.

Hearing a crowing sound, Tarnish froze, his ears straining beneath his pith helmet. He felt his spine prickle. Horn glowing, Tarnish made ready to pull Flamingo from her sheath. “I still hate nature,” he muttered to himself, “and I still wish that nature would just get horned.”

He heard the crowing sound again and his head tilted in the direction from which it came. He peered through his goggles, struggling to see. Something was approaching, he could hear it. Tarnish took a deep breath and thought of his plan; release Flamingo, confuse the enemy, keep moving, keep himself from being an easy target, and then slap the enemy with one of his ‘wall’ spells. If they persisted in their attacks, Tarnish was prepared to give them a toot in warning, or if absolutely necessary, cook them with steam.

A bright orange bird came into view. Tarnish watched it as it perched upon a branch. The bird was on fire. Something nagged at Tarnish’s mind… this was a phoenix. He stood, staring, not letting his guard down. He didn’t know what phoenixes ate. The bird was watching him and Tarnish wondered if it was hungry. Did it like pony eyeballs? How did one kill a phoenix, anyway?

The bird began bobbing up and down on the branch, it almost sounded as though it was laughing. Tarnish heard a twig crunch. He turned and almost drew Flamingo. There was a white earth pony, tall, with a powerful build. For a moment, Tarnish thought it was a stallion, but realised it was a mare. She was big, even by earth pony standards. She was wearing a pith helmet of her own, had on goggles, and was wearing a mask over her muzzle, making it impossible to see her face. She had a pair of saddlebags, both of them were a dark brown oilskin canvas. She was covered in ash, which left her white pelt sooty and smudged in places. Wisps of her mane were visible, which was a bright sunny yellow streaked with vibrant spring green and dark brown.

It never hurt to be polite.

“Hello… you startled me,” Tarnish said in greeting, “my name is Tarnished Teapot.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mister Teapot.” The tall mare lowered her head. “Strange place to find another pony on a nature walk.”

Squinting through his goggles, Tarnish felt a little irked that the mare did not introduce herself. He looked up at her, not quite certain what to make of her. “I’m not on a nature walk. I am trying to get to safety. My wife and I were at ground zero when the volcano exploded. She is badly injured, poisoned, and in need of medical help. I was out trying to find yarrow root.”

“Hmm, good thing I always come prepared. As it just so happens, I have aspirin in my saddlebags along with other supplies. I was wondering if there were any survivors.” The strange mare took a step forward. “Get a move on, little pony. Take me to your wife, let me see if I can help her.”

“Um, that’s complicated. She’s magically irradiated, she might cook you,” Tarnish said.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, little pony,” the strange mare replied, “just let me help you. I came looking for any survivors and I assure you I took precautions for my own safety against the many hazards that I might encounter. I’ll be fine.”

Little pony… little pony. Tarnish stewed on the inside. He wasn’t short, not by any standard, and the white earth pony was just a great big tall freak. He drew himself up to his full height, which was considerable, and still the mare was a good head taller than him, and she wasn’t even standing at her full height.

“I left markers so it is easy to get back. Just follow me I guess… just be careful.” Tarnish, who felt irked for all kinds of reasons, turned tail and began to head back where he had left behind Maud and Spike.

As he walked away, he could have swore that the phoenix was laughing at him.

Seeing Spike and Maud, Tarnish broke into a brisk trot, kicking up ashes, and forgetting about the earth pony behind him. Spike was holding Maud’s head up and was pouring water into her mouth, a little at a time. Tarnish could hear Maud’s laboured wheezing.

“Can you hear me, Maud?” Tarnish stood at Maud’s side, his mouth next to her ear. He heard her let out a feeble, raspy cough.

“Hello, Spike.” The tall white earth pony stood nearby and the phoenix perched on top of her head.

“I don’t recall telling you his name,” Tarnish turned around, his telekinesis grasping Flamingo. His skin crawled and tingled.

“Oh, he just looked like a ‘Spike’ that’s all, relax, little pony,” the big white earth pony mare said in a soft, soothing voice.

Very much against his will, Tarnish felt himself relaxing, even though something in the back of his mind screamed to keep his guard up. The earth pony mare wasn’t cooking, even though she was standing in the middle of what had to be one hundred bars of thaumaton radiation. He wondered if perhaps his island of stabilization magic was protecting her, but she had assured him that she’d be fine. Perhaps she had taken some kind of magical medication or drank some alchemical concoction or elixir?

“Hold her down and pry her mouth open. I have a purgative… several actually, I think all three of you will need one, as tough as you three are, you’ve been ingesting a lot of poison. And you, Mister Teakettle—”

“Teapot!”

“Mister Teapot… you don’t sound well or look well. Your voice sounds positively sepulchral. Your pelt is falling out in clumps, I saw it as you walked. You’ve been using magic for far too long without enough food, and by the looks of it, it is now eating into your body.”

Tarnish stared at the earth pony. She was a weird one, alright. How could she know that? His mind began to fill with questions, but now might not be the best time. Against his better judgement, he decided to trust her.

“Very well,” Tarnish replied, nodding his head.

He glanced at Spike and saw the dragon looking back at him. “Spike, let me. If she kicks you, she’ll break you in two. Get some distance. You’ve been a good friend, I don’t want you getting hurt.” He saw Spike nod.

He heard Maud make a gurgle and he looked down. He cradled her head in his magic when Spike let go of her. Her face was covered, except for her mouth. Her shriveled looking tongue was brushing over her dried, cracked lips.

“Hold her very still,” the big white mare commanded as she came forwards. “In my saddlebag, there are several purple glass bottles. Do be a dear and pull one out, please?”

Tarnish nodded, opened up the flap on her saddlebags, and began pulling out stuff with his telekinesis. The first thing he pulled out was a box of bandages. He stuffed it back in. There was a small plastic bottle of aspirin, not what he needed. The he pulled out a large purple bottle.

“See that she drinks every drop possible… make her drink it if necessary. It is vile and unpleasant.” The white earth pony’s voice was soft and kind. “It is terrible tasting stuff, I am sorry, but sometimes little ponies must drink their medicine.”

Gritting his teeth, Tarnish unstoppered the bottle. He stuck the end of the bottle between Maud’s lips and began to pour the thick, viscous green liquid down. Maud gave a feeble kick and then shook her head, but Tarnish kept the bottle in her mouth. Almost gone… almost… almost.

Maud had to keep drinking if she wanted to keep breathing, her nostrils were caked over with snot and blood. Tarnish felt horrible. He felt tears, which caused his burning eyes to sting even more. He felt as though he was betraying her trust.

“Quickly, hold her mouth closed for as long as possible, we need to keep it in for at least a few moments!” the white mare commanded.

Tarnish, using his telekinesis, pinched Maud’s lips together as Maud writhed and wiggled over the ground. Her legs kicked and she made gagging sounds. He could hear her stomach protesting the vile liquid. She began to thrash around, her weakened body unable to do much of anything.

“Let her go and get clear!” the white mare said as she turned around and ran away.

Tarnish let Maud go and tried to move, but he wasn’t fast enough or far enough away. Maud exploded in a geyser of green goo, some of which came shooting out of her clogged nostrils, clearing them of impacted, ash, snot, as well as blood, and then her second gush of vomit splattered right into Tarnish, splashing over his face, his neck, and his chest. She puked again, this time sprewing out stuff that looked like coffee grounds and strange white clumps that appeared to be solid chunks of ash. Her stomach spasmed, contorted, and then, she hurled out even more of the contents of her stomach, once more onto Tarnish, who just stood there, standing at his wife’s side.

“Oh yuck…” Spike gasped.

“This is not the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me,” Tarnish said in a calm voice, “in fact, this is far from it. I’ve dealt with far worse.”

“She sounds a little better already.” The white mare kept her distance, not daring to come closer. “Now, Mister Teakettle—”

Tarnish sighed. “Teapot…”

“Yes, sorry, Mister Teapot, it is your turn,” the white mare paused, then continued, “You and Spike can do it together, like a contest… see who can guzzle it down the fastest and hold it in the longest.”

Tarnished looked down at Maud, who appeared to be passed out again. She was breathing, she still sounded rough, but her breathing wasn’t quite so laboured. He glanced at Spike, who stood nearby, shaking his head, his face contorted in both fear and disgust.

“Now now, do as you are told, little pony,” the tall white mare said. “In my saddlebag, you will find two more purple bottles. Go on, do help yourself!”

Scowling, steaming, vomit dripping, Tarnish reached out with his telekinesis, fished around in the white mare’s saddlebag, feeling around with his telekinesis, until he felt the two bottles. He lifted them out and floated one over to Spike.

Tarnish tugged away his face covering and then pulled out the stopper on the bottle. His nostrils crinkled. It smelled bad. He could swear that the mysterious white mare was smiling behind her face mask. He could hear the soft, wet whistle of Maud’s shallow breathing, she wasn’t fighting as hard for air.

Not bothering to look at Spike, Tarnish put the bottle to his lips and began to guzzle it down. This was his punishment for doing this to Maud, he would drink every drop. The green stuff in the bottle was liquified nightmares, there were no words available to mortals, there were no spoken words period to describe how awful it tasted. Tarnish somehow managed to drink down every last drop, tipping the bottle upwards to let it drain down his gullet.

Behind him, he heard Spike say, “That wasn’t bad, kinda refreshing.”

Of course Spike would say that…

Violent queasiness seized Tarnish. His knees wobbled. For one terrible moment, a very petty part of Tarnish wondered if he could puke on the white mare. Revenge somehow seemed like a necessity at this point. This was a memory that would never go away, it would never get better with time, this was a wound that time would never heal. Whatever this stuff was, Tarnish suspected that it was collected from the prison shower drains in Tartarus, if such things existed.

Shuddering, the colt felt himself explode. Vomit rocketed out of his mouth and his nose. For one horrible second, Tarnish was certain that the pressure of his puking was going to send his eyeballs shooting right out his skull, and right through the glass of his goggles.

Somehow, the first round of puking was downright pleasant when compared to the second round. His body revolted against the revolting liquid he had drank. He felt his insides tying themselves into knots and he wasn’t sure if he could breathe anymore; he was certain that he had just puked his lungs out. Strange chunky things were backed up in his throat, hard, sharp even, he thought he would choke, but then he barfed again and those mysterious, chunky, sharp, unpleasant things in his throat went shooting out of his mouth like cannonballs.

His knees wobbled and he felt himself growing weaker. He struggled to keep standing. His vision was growing dim. He wondered if he was dying, it felt like he was dying, in fact, dying right now would be rather nice. He staggered backwards, gasping, trying to breathe, and then he looked at the white mare. For a moment, she glowed like the sun, almost blinding him.

“Oh my, you are a tough little pony, a natural born survivor if ever there was one. There is more to you than expected, Mister Teakettle. Go to sleep… go into blissful, painless slumber. You have suffered enough—”

“No,” Tarnish gasped, fighting to get the word out, “Teapot!” He heard a heavy thump behind him.

Unable to fight any longer, Tarnish felt his legs give way and he was out before he hit the ground.

Author's Notes:

Next chapter... healing.