A Daughter's Ire

Time passed, as it often did, continuing its ceaseless march into oblivion. Spirit followed alongside it, as did the rest of the world. Thoughts of the past few weeks had faded into the background. The name still stuck in her mind, though. Taproot. Grass Roots Apothecary. She finally had a name to who started this. To who… forced this life upon her. Spirit had spent the day in Canterlot, wandering the market district, but never straying too far from a central location. The shop, itself. To think… she’d been here the whole time. In this store Spirit passed dozens of times growing up. She wondered if Taproot recognized her. If she ever looked out the window to see this little gray filly waltzing down the street. She wondered if it just ate her up inside. She wondered if it burned in her stomach to see her still living. She hoped it did. She hoped that merely by living she inflicted a fraction of the pain she suffered through in her life. Spirit didn’t deserve what happened to her. It only felt right that her ‘mother’ shoulder that burden with her. She grit her teeth and tore her gaze away from the storefront. She turned to leave. She wouldn’t be back this time. She promised herself that. She was done looking at that shop. She was done pretending she was going to come inside. As she turned, thunder rumbled overhead, and a single drop of rain fell upon Spirit’s nose. She sighed, and tossed her hood up, though it wouldn’t help much, given the holes in it. The rain began to pick up. But, the clarion call of a silver bell halted Spirit’s hoof mid-step. And, she heard a voice. It was sweet. Soothing, and carried a hint of an unlearned southern drawl, “Hey, now, honey! Don’t be walkin’ away again! I’ve seen you pokin’ your head around across the street all day, come on in and we can do business!” Spirit slowly put that hoof down. She wanted to bolt. To run. Slowly, she turned around, and faced the pony speaking. A dark brown mare stood half outside the door to Grassroots. Her mane was a dark raven, and two olive eyes stared out, amicably. A grin split her face. She seemed like she was happy to see whoever she was speaking to. At least… she was. When Spirit turned, and their eyes met, her expression fell. Even from this far, Spirit could swear she saw the color drain from her face. Over the sound of the rain hitting the cobble, she almost didn’t hear the faint whisper of, “it’s really you…” =+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+=+-+= The inside of the shop was exactly how one would expect an apothecary’s shop to be. Dried herbs hung from strings over the counter, the shelves were stocked with various items- dried and fresh. Tucked away into a corner, some various alchemical supplies were nestled, along with a few potions, each one lovingly labelled by hoof. Spirit felt out of place here. She’d never been one to come anywhere near one of these places. Let alone the one owned by her mother of all ponies. Her thoughts were quickly cut off by the voice of Taproot, “P-Please excuse the mess. I didn’t expect you to actually show up. Let alone so soon!” “Me neither,” was Spirit’s short reply, her gaze now fixed upon the brown unicorn that saw fit to bring her into this world, “What do you have to say for yourself. What did you wish of me. Why now, of all times.” That challenged Taproot’s expression. She was doing her best to stay strong, but her smile faltered. She sighed and looked away, “I just…. I felt like it was… only fair. To finally meet you. I’ve… I’ve wanted to for so long but… I couldn’t find you. Didn’t know anything about you. And… I pulled some strings. Talked to some clients…. I penned the letter that night.” Spirit’s expression, however, was leveled, still. Her gilded eyes pierced Tap’s olive ones. Almost like she could see through the slightly taller mare, “Mmmhmm. And to think… after all you’ve done to me, you think you have the rights to speak to me like I’m your child. Like I’m anyone that you ever cared about.” “I-I…” Spirit held up a hoof, and her vision soured, “I’m not done yet. Do you have any fucking idea what I’ve gone through? And it’s all. Your. Fault. If you never brought me into this world… or even found it in your bitter heart to not drop me off somewhere to free your conscience of me… maybe- just MAYBE- we could have been happy.” Tap clearly had no words. Her eyes fell to the floor, and a whimper escaped her throat. Spirit came in with another subject change, “tell me, Taproot. Do you like faerie tales. Do you like fables. Stories?” The strange questions brought her eyes back up, tears welling within. Before she replied, Spirit continued, “So tell me what do you know about the tale of the Everfree Witch?” Her lips opened but no sound came out. She just stared for some time, before she could barely choke out, “W-What does that have to do with… a-anything?” The witch ignored that, and would take a step closer, “Eyes the color of lightning. Fur as pallid as the dead. Scars, dancing across her body. Living in the woods. Cursing all those that entered,” And with that, Spirit would toss her cloak off, revealing herself fully, “Surprise, Mother, you’ve made a monster out of your child. Is that what you wanted?” The whimpers became sobs. Tears began to drip down Taproot’s face, “N-No. Never. I-I never wished that. I-I just… I wish I could… exp-explain it to you, Spirit. T-Tell you what happened….” Tears meant nothing to Spirit. She’d seen enough of them. Cried enough of them. She would remain, only a step or two from Taproot, as she said, “Then start. Tell me what made my life okay. What excuse could you possibly have.” A hiccup. Taproot would stumble away, moving behind the counter. Spirit followed, a little ways away. Taproot would open up the register, before pulling out something. A silver medallion, with the engravings of a gryphon upon it, “This… this is the only thing I ever got from your father,” she said, “Well… th-that and also you.” “After you were…. Emm… conceived, he gave me this and…. I haven’t seen him since. He was a Witcher. Some… traveling mercenary. I didn’t talk to him much about it… Everyone in town seemed to avoid him but… I didn’t. I wanted to speak to him. We… hit it off. And then… well… now we’re here…” Tap would light her horn up and put the medallion onto her own neck, holding it close to hear heart, “I… I like to imagine… that he’s still alive. That he’s still out there fighting for us. Fighting for… me. But it’s been… so long. I don’t think he could be…” Spirit, was unimpressed, “So… you got frisky with a Witcher and had your heart broken. So you got rid of me. That’s… not at all what I really wanted to hear. Not even an apology.” Tap seemed to be getting a bit of her faculties back, by merely holding the silver medallion. She sucked in a deep breath, and looked back up at Spirit. Her eyes were getting a bit red, “I-I’m sorry. I… I really am. But… when you were conceived I was still in school. I was going through college to learn all about this. I had to choose between giving up on my dreams… giving up on everything I worked for… or you. I…. I was so close to choosing you. I sat there, in front of that building for hours… cradling you. Wondering if what I was doing was right….” And there were the words. The ones Spirit never thought she’d hear. Apologies. A true… real explanation. But they didn’t quell the fire in her heart. In fact… it only stoked it. She didn’t even think through her next motions. Before either of them had a moment to react, Spirit was pressed against the counter. From her hip, her dagger was drawn, the blade of it pressed against Taproot’s neck. “N-Now the tables are turned,” she whispered, “Tell me. How does it f-feel, Taproot. To know that your life is in another’s hooves? To know that with just a motion, it could be over? Just like you did to me all those years ago. You killed me before I even had a chance to live…” Taproot felt the cold iron against her neck. She felt her heart racing. Tears welled in her eyes. And, she moved. She pressed in closer, that metal biting her flesh. The chain on her medallion snapped, the pendant itself clattering to the countertop. And… the next words surprised even the Witch, “D-Do it. It’s… it’s what I d-deserve,” she sniffled. Tears were running in rivulets down her face, “I-I was never a m-mother to you… I-I was NEVER what you n-needed. I-It’s only f-fair…” A slow sigh. Taproot closed her eyes and prepared. She prepared for what never came. The sound of the blade dropping, and hitting the floor forced them open. And she was greeted with a sight she didn’t expect. Spirit was curled on the floor, her body shaking with barely controlled sobs. The brown mare would attempt to reach over to touch her estranged daughter. But when she got close, a grey hoof whipped upwards, batting her away, “S-Stay back!” She commanded, as she got up, and retreated a few steps. Her eyes were already puffy and red. She sniffled, attempting to keep a stream of snot in. She was clearly not a pretty crier. But who really was, “I-I…. A-All my life! I wanted to meet you! I always wanted a m-mother. I-I wanted a family! A-And I tried to kill you! I-I really am a monster!” Taproot know what to say. She didn’t have words. She stepped around the counter, in an attempt to comfort Spirit. But, one step closer, and Spirit turned around, and fled, slamming the door open, and fleeing into the cold night. Tap stopped. She stared. Her horn lit up, and she retrieved the gryphon pendant, which she held close to her chest again, “Watch over her…. Please….”