Chapter 2: The Nature Of The Beast

To be a princess…is to not always be a pony.

To be a ruler…is to not always be an honest horse.

To be beloved and kind…means that sometimes masks must be worn. Lies must be told. Secrets must be kept.

Some secrets had to be kept.

So thought Celestia, in the times when she added to this book. The book enchanted to only be opened by her, whose words would only make sense to her. The few things she never could, and never would, reveal.

The darkest evenings of the year.

The soft spots.

The weight of a crown, and what it could cost.

How extraordinary bore no allegiance to morality. It could serve for the best…or worst deeds and desires.

And the cruelest truths of all…

That extraordinary circumstances required extraordinary measures.

And just what that could mean.


She didn't mean it…

Fluttershy didn't know the last time she'd stopped to take a drink of water. The last time part of her body hadn't burned with stinging, wrenching pain. It felt like days, even though it couldn't have been two hours.

The days had come before.

She hadn't thought anything when she'd found the raccoon in the steep ditch, the creature having worn its paws to bloodied trying to get out. Another animal that needed love and care. Another friend to make.

Fluttershy was not stupid. She knew, for the most part, how animals tended to react, depending on their experiences and circumstances. Sometimes they could show incredible kindness, but if put in a situation of distress, their innate natures tended to reign. Such 'innate' aspects could result in Fluttershy being hurt if she wasn't careful, so she'd recruited Twilight Sparkle's help. The unicorn had helped Fluttershy float the raccoon out of its trap and into a cage, and Fluttershy had given it water and food while trying to help it calm down. When it hadn't, Fluttershy had noticed its ragged breathing. Further studies had allowed her to see the black lines against the whites of its eyes, something she had not seen before due to the animal's enlarged irises.

Venadissolucytosis. Vein pox. Fluttershy had heard of it, once or twice, but her knowledge was limited to that, at the time. It was a disease that attacked both the heart and the red blood cells, slowly wearing down their capacity to absorb oxygen. This caused fatigue, muscle pain, high body temperature as the heart beat faster and faster to try and provide the body and brain with the oxygen it needed, and eventual heart failure. There was no cure, and no real treatment. Any animal that got vein pox was doomed to a drawn out death, the poor creature unable to understand why the body that had always worked for it no longer did so.

It broke Fluttershy's heart, but it did not break her resolve. No cure had even been found for the disease yet, she knew she was not going to be able to change that in the space of a few days. The general treatment, like rabies, was to put the animal down. To do something like that went against every single aspect of Fluttershy's nature. There had to be another way…

More rustling overhead. Their tracking ability was lessened, but Fluttershy was covered in sweat, barely dried blood plastered to her form, more than enough to smell…

The disease attacked the heart: the rest of the troubles came from the blood cells unable to properly process oxygen. Fluttershy would give the raccoon medicine rich in oxygen, as well as medicine to cool its fevered blood. Eventually, it would go to sleep and not wake up, and then she would call the veterinarian to help with proper disposal. If the animal's only fate was death, she would make sure it died peacefully by the disease, instead of deliberately causing its death. The rest was simple: vein pox was spread by saliva into open wounds. Fluttershy had kept the raccoon isolated from all her other animal friends as a matter of course. They were safe, and helped her in her treatment, as she tried to oversee it's passing…

How could she have considered it? She was a friend to all living things. She could not think of purposely killing one, no matter the reason. Nor could she let an animal suffer…

But there was a reason that raccoon may have ended up in the ditch, unable to climb free. Perhaps it may not have ended up there under its own power. Maybe the animals had known something she hadn't.

The general rate of death between contraction of vein pox and death was three weeks. Fluttershy had guesstimated that the raccoon had been sick, at best, ten days when she had found it. After another month, during which the raccoon was at peace, without pain of fear, the disease finally killed it.

That, however, had ceased to be the problem. Something far, far worse had come in its stead…

She did not want to risk flying: she was far too easy a target in the air, exposed to sharper eyes and stronger wings than hers. She had to stay on the ground, keep moving, keep running…

There was a reason vein pox was the disease it was. It was cruel, but it was swift. When an animal died, the virus died with it, trapped within a safe timeframe. Trapped within its nature.

Fluttershy had broken the rules. She had allowed the virus to continued to live and breed beyond its standard lifespan. Allowed it more cells to devour, allowed it to recognize its shortcomings…

Allowed it to change.

Vein pox was transferred by saliva to open wounds, almost always delivered by bite. None of the animals had gone near the raccoon's treatment 'unit', but plenty had come into the room to help Fluttershy however they could…

As the virus changed.

As it went from the blood…

To the breath.

Changed beyond that. Changed its target. The raccoon was too sick for the changes to really be noticeable, as vein pox went from attacking the heart to the brain. Began causing aspects of the animal to die, aspects that would ensure the target's longer survival while still giving the virus fuel for its replication…

Fluttershy's animal friends were not confined to her house. They had their own movements, outside of it…allowing them to infect their friends. And their friends to infect other friends. On and on…

She heard the crashing, and she ran. She ran despite the pain in her lungs, her legs, and her heart. She ran because she knew if she didn't, worse would come to her. She'd seen it…

The disease didn't affect ponies. An odd cruelty of chance. It mattered little. By the time Fluttershy realized something was wrong, it was too late.

By the time she'd tried to treat them, their minds were already going.

When Angel Bunny had spoken to her, eyes burning and mad, telling her it wanted blood…she'd tried to change it to confinement.

And when the sheer length and breadth of the infection exploded across Equestria, sweeping through Ponyville and beyond…Fluttershy had had no choice but to run. Run from the savage monsters all her friends had become. Run from the bloody feeding frenzy she'd made. Run as all the friends she had destroyed themselves and destroyed everything around them in turn.

So she ran, as the snarling deer and squirrels chased her, as birds dive bombed through the trees above, trying to locate the 'unnatural', as every animal stopped whatever it was chewing or tearing at to listen, and follow, the noise.

Fluttershy had always been the quiet sort. Now she had no choice. Her breath was needed for running.

Running a race she knew she'd lose.

Running from the screaming to come.


Run, little nurse. Run.

You can never outrun your own good intentions.

You can never outrun the fear.