//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Rifts // by Eldamaur //------------------------------// “No, I’m telling you, Gandalf would beat Dumbledore no problem! Especially if he’s already Gandalf the White; you just don’t screw with Gandalf the White,” Tristan asserted as Eric simply rolled his eyes. “What did he even do? There were hardly any parts where he was using magic; Dumbledore has all sorts of awesome spells to use!” Eric returned, taking joy in the simple antagonism of his good friend. “If you read the books you’d know just how much more powerful he is, there’s simply no contest between them,” Tristan shot back, oblivious to Eric’s baiting. “Who said anything about the books? I’m just talking about the movies,” he replied in turn, knowing full well his friend had always been talking about the books. Tristan simply raised his finger, opened and closed his mouth several times, and muttered, “I really hate you sometimes, you know.” “Oh, lighten up, I’m just having a little fun,” laughed Eric as he relished in his victory. “You take things too seriously sometimes; it just makes messing with you so tempting.” “Well one of us has got to be serious and thoughtful, remember what happens when you don’t think things through beforehand? We wouldn’t want a repeat of that, now would we?” “Hey, you know that wasn’t all my fault. I’ve told you before that could have happened to anyone! And the burns were only second degree, it could have been worse…” Eric defended, not willing to let Tristan best him in their verbal duel. “Whatever you say; it’s just a good thing she didn’t press charges. She could have, you know,” Tristan retorted as they continued their walk away from school. The duo continued on their long walk, anxious to get home but still enjoying the simplicity of the walk and the camaraderie of friendship. They passed through the hustle and bustle of their city, oblivious to the sirens in the distance, roars of cars, and general sounds of life that they had come to know in their nineteen years of life. All was peaceful. All was normal. They continued to chat, hardly paying attention to their surroundings, being so accustomed to the familiar walk home. As such they were certainly not paying attention to where they stepped, instead taking in the everyday scenery and whimsical cloudscape above them. “…so you do agree then, EA is just a terrible company. I mean, I can understand taking steps against piracy, but some of the things they’ve been doing are just way ov-,“ Tristan was cut mid word as he suddenly fell forward, seemingly stepping into a ditch in the pavement. He let out a high pitched, frightened yelp of surprise as he fell face forward towards the pavement, which was no longer the pavement. Instead, what seemed to be a gaping hole torn into the air itself was directly in front of him, and he had no way of stopping himself. Without time to think of any sort of plan nor the reflexes to grab the ends of the strange tear in reality, he did the only thing that came to mind. That is to say, scream like a little girl. He continued his scream for a few seconds with his eyes tightly clenched shut before realizing that while he was inside of the portal he was still hanging upside down, as something had caught his leg. He opened one eye a crack only to have it viciously assaulted by bright sunlight, temporarily blinding him. “Urgh, what the hell just happened? Tristan? Tristan, damn it, answer me!” grunted Eric as he was hunched over the strange tear, clasping Tristan’s ankle with all of his strength, desperately trying to pull his friend up. Tristan ended his screams and did his best to look up above him, finding the action difficult in his disoriented state as the blood began rushing to his head. He saw Eric above him with his arm dangling through the rift clutching his leg. As he dared for a moment to look below him with his somewhat adjusted eyes he saw what looked to be a snowy landscape with trees as far as he could see. “This is some realistic dream! I wish they were this clear all the time!” laughed out Tristan, his mind coming to the only logical conclusion possible. “Just let me go Eric, I’ll fly or something!” “What?! Have you lost your mind? This isn’t a dream, give me your hand you moron!” Eric shouted down. “This is crazy as all Hell but it’s real, damn it, now work with me here!” Eric vaguely noticed a few people standing around him babbling something at him but he wasn’t able to make it out, caring only for the safety of his imperiled friend. He jostled Tristan a bit, hoping to shake some sense into him, to no noticeable avail. “Hah, yeah, you’re really funny dream Eric! Because stuff like this totally happens in normal life, suuuuuure,” Tristan taunted back up to Eric, still not fully processing the situation. He closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and imagined himself starting to fly as he had done before in lucid dreams. Suddenly, he felt Eric’s grip loosen and he began to fall. Smiling to himself over his perceived victory over his subconscious mind, Tristan willed himself to fly. However, he only continued to fall, and as he opened his eyes in shock at the rapidly approaching trees he was falling towards he suddenly comprehended the severity of his situation. The biting wind rushed across his face as the trees got nearer and nearer, adding to the realism of the situation. The cold actually kind of…hurt. The realization that he felt pain, and that it was therefore not a dream, smacked Tristan like an eighteen wheeler truck. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-oomph!” Tristan hit the first of the uppermost branches, the wind getting knocked completely out of him. It did little to slow his descent as he smacked branch after branch on his way down. Luckily the branches were somewhat supple and so bent to accommodate his fall, rather than simply breaking every bone in his body. He eventually landed with a loud thud on the snowy ground below. The young man lay still for a moment, hardly daring to breathe, as he surveyed the damages. He tested his extremities first, finding all manner of cuts and what would surely be deep bruises, but, miraculously, no broken bones. He groggily opened his eyes, his vision still spinning from his harsh descent, and attempted to look around him. Through the haze of his vision all he could see was brown vertical shapes which he assumed to be trees and lots and lots of white snow everywhere. As he shakily attempted to get to his legs he looked further around him and noticed something that stood out vibrantly against the dull browns and brilliant white: a deep crimson color. His eyes finally began to adjust and he looked with his newfound clarity at the obtrusive object and nearly lost his lunch at the sight. Not too far away from him was a human arm, severed six inches or so above the elbow, seeping blood into the virgin snow beneath it. What’s more, Tristan recognized the watch the arm was wearing…it was Eric’s! He steadied himself against a nearby tree and averted his gaze, attempting to slow his breathing and calm his mind. What the Hell is going on? Where am I? How did this happen? Is that seriously Eric’s ARM? My parents are going to flip out at this! There’s no way any of this could be happening! But yet, I feel pain…so it can’t be a dream. Damn it, think, Tristan, think, what could possibly be going on? Contemplating his situation did little to calm his nerves, quite the opposite, if anything. His rapid breathing eventually slowed to a point where he felt he had a grip on the situation and he just stood there, watching as his rattling breath coalesced into a visible fog before his eyes. Gathering his wits he slowly turned to face the gruesome sight. He hesitantly edged closer, noticing a steam rising up from the heat of the blood that was melting the snow and once more fought back his urge to puke. This was definitely Eric’s arm. The way it had been sliced was almost unrealistically clean; there was no break to the bone, no evidence of any cleaving, it was simply not attached, like the bisections of the human body that one might see at a science museum. Thankfully, the blood covered most of the open wound, lest he knew he would be subjected to a true cross-section of bone. What am I supposed to do with this thing? It’s in the snow, could it be reattached? No, stupid, stupid, you couldn’t reattach a whole arm…and I still don’t know where the Hell I am! I can’t just leave it out there; it’d just get eaten by some animal, like a…wolf…crap. Upon his sudden revelation Tristan frantically swiveled his head to and fro, certain that he was about to find a pack of bloodthirsty wolves about to pounce on him. He looked deep into the forest around him, attempting to discern any movement, any movement at all, but found none. It was almost odd how silent it was, but considering the ruckus he had just caused and the fact that it seemed to be winter here he shrugged it off. Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have watched The Grey, now all I’m going to see is wolves behind every tree. I wish that Eric was here, he’s always been the more outdoorsy type…Eric! Crap, he just lost his arm; he could be dead for all I know! I’d almost rather be him than me, though; at least he’s sure to get medical attention. For all I know, nobody will ever find me out here. For a moment he almost lapsed back into nonsensical terror at his situation but he managed to shake himself mentally and focus on a more thoughtful approach to the situation, as he knew panicking would be nothing but a detriment at this point. Pushing his doubts and searing questions to the side, he attempted to assess his situation. Alright, freaking out will accomplish nothing, so I need to not do that. So, for whatever reason, I’m in the middle of a forest, alone, stranded...with barely anything on me. Just a fairly thin, long sleeve shirt, a hoodie, jeans, sneakers, a backpack…wait, where’s my backpack?! He quickly scoured the area around him, looking for his weathered old backpack, but couldn’t find it anywhere on the ground, which meant, of course, that it could only be up a tree. Looking upwards confirmed his fear to be true as he saw his backpack dangling limply out of his reach about twelve feet in the air. So, no backpack for right now. I’ll have to figure out how to get that down later. Other than that I’ve got my crappy old cell phone that only makes calls, my wallet filled with plastic cards and coupons, for all the good that’ll do me here, and my house keys. And, of course, a freakin’ severed arm, with a watch. Well…I don’t have a watch, and I’m sure he wouldn’t begrudge me, given the situation. Tristan queasily edged closer to the arm, slowly and deliberately edging his hand towards it as if he thought it was about to spring up and bite him if he made any sudden moves. He gripped the forearm close to the watch and was disgusted at the feel of it. The skin had cooled considerably from its short stay in the snow and the loss of blood but he could still feel some small vestige of warmth clinging hopelessly to existence under the skin. He picked up the arm and grimaced at the limp flopping of the wrist. After fumbling with the watch band for a moment he managed to free it from the arm and wasted no time in setting the arm down gingerly back onto the snow. A quick inspection of the watch showed it was more or less in good condition, save for a few specks of blood and surface scratches. It was the classic wind up type that didn’t require a battery, which certainly had an advantage since there was no battery to run out, but if he forgot to wind it then it would have to be reset. After slipping the watch on his own wrist Tristan decided to attempt to get his backpack down from the tree before something else came along and chased him away. Looking around he spotted some stones of reasonable size and threw one of them up at the backpack, attempting to knock it free. The stone sailed off target and smacked into a small tree not far away, causing it to shudder and lose all the snow that had clung to it. Though he knew the noise was reasonably quiet it echoed like a warning bell in his head for a moment in stark contrast to the silence of the forest around him. Crap, if there’s anything out here the last thing I want to do is attract attention; I’ll have to figure out another way to get it down… He looked around once more, this time for anything long, and found his wish granted in the form of a broken branch that was propped up against a nearby tree. After grabbing the branch and testing it to see if it would readily break he moved back underneath the backpack, jumped at it with stick in hand, and swatted it for all he was worth. The backpack came loose, but with it, a great deal of snow. The snow covered Tristan completely, instantly enveloping him in a new level of cold. He desperately clawed his way out, mentally berating himself for not seeing that coming, and searched through the pile of snow for his backpack, which he found without much trouble. I’m going to freeze to death if I don’t do something quick, at least start moving…but at least I got my backpack! Now, let’s see…notebook, could burn for a bit, mostly useless…Pencils, not much use there, I doubt someone is going to come across any message I write…Calculator, yes! I’ll long-division my way out of this mess!...yeah, that’s going to be useless. Aha, a pencil sharpener! If I can remove the blade from that I might be able to whittle a spear, it’d be terribly annoying but it sure beats using a rock. And three granola bars that have been in here for far too long. I suppose it’s a good thing I never got around to eating them or tossing them now, though. Nothing else of note, great. I couldn’t be the guy who carries around knives, matches, and a compass that goes hiking on the weekends and is a survival expert, no, that’d just be too simple. Screw you too, Universe… Discouraged with the discovery that his beacon of hope didn’t actually have much of use in it, Tristan was losing hope. However, daunted as he was, he knew that just consigning himself to his fate and freezing to death certainly was not the way to go. Well, I’d better take the arm with me, if I get out of this there’s no way Eric would be cool with me just leaving it here to be eaten by something. Perhaps I can “arm” myself with it if something attacks…ok, that was just terrible. That was terrible and I feel terrible for thinking it. He gathered up the arm, wrapped the bloody stump end in a few pieces of paper from his notebook, and shoved it into an unused compartment of his backpack where it was held in place fairly well. However, he was unable to make it fit properly and so the hand was forced to stick outside of the zipper. Heh, if I come across anyone they’ll think I’m some sort of serial killer…wait, why is that funny? Bah, it’s not like there’s anyone out here, anyway. This place is deserted. After taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh Tristan finally began moving forward. As he walked he kept watch for anything that could be of use; particularly long, sturdy sticks, sharp rocks, or anything edible. He continued on his way for about a half an hour, making terrible progress in the snow. He could feel his body getting colder and colder and noticed that the sun was starting to hang precariously close to the edge of the sky and so decided to find a place to make camp. I’m getting kind of hungry, but I really need to ration those bars. I guess one wouldn’t hurt, but I need to get some other food or I know that I’m going to die. A fire would be great too, and perhaps some shelter if I can find it. I wonder if there are any caves or the like. Preferably without hibernating bears, of course… After quickly eating one of his granola bars he began wandering aimlessly through the forest, vaguely keeping to the east, away from the setting sun. After about a half hour of walking it began to get truly dark and the silence of the forest began to press in upon him. I’m away from where I fell, so there should be at least some signs of animals, shouldn’t there? Either everything is hibernating or has migrated, or something is seriously up with this place. It’s bad enough I’m thrown through some freaky portal to the middle of nowhere, but does it really have to be this creepy too? As he was about to give up hope and attempt making a ball under the snow for insulation like he had heard of animals doing on TV he finally saw something other than trees, rocks, and snow. Looming upon the horizon, barely visible by the silvery light of the moon, was his perceived salvation. A cabin! Someone lives out here; I’m not going to freeze to death! They’ll know the way to a city or something; I’m not going to die! However, upon his approach of the cabin, several things stuck out to him. While it seemed to have once been a pretty cozy place the wood had begun to rot and there were no lights beyond the horribly dirty windows. He could spot a stone chimney reaching up to the top but no smoke drifted up from it, and there was no stack of logs or anything to indicate habitation outside. Nevertheless, Tristan ran joyously up to the cabin and knocked several times. The silence from within confirmed his fear: it was deserted. However, he didn’t let that get his spirits too far down; he still had shelter for the night. Prying open the door proved to be a somewhat difficult task as it opened outwards into the snow and the hinges had begun to rust. Finally, after seriously considering just trying to bash the door down, he got it open enough to slide inside. He noted that the door was also uncharacteristically small at perhaps five feet tall, so short that he had to duck to get inside. The first thing that he noticed was the smell. The air was musty and unpleasant, further confirming the desertion of the place. Due to the state of the windows it was also very dark; he couldn’t see anything but the vague outlines of shapes. After fumbling around with his numb fingers inside his pockets for a moment he retrieved his phone and shone the light around, revealing the one-room interior of the cabin. The cabin itself was revealed to be rather small, again with a short ceiling of perhaps six feet, leaving little room above Tristan’s head. What was obviously once a table was heaped in the corner. Time had taken its toll on the poor thing and it had collapsed. Tristan doubted that he could get it back in serviceable order. The single chair remained intact, though its ability to support weight was still in question. On the other side of the cabin was a terribly dilapidated bed that looked like it could have once belonged to a child with how small it was. A number of miscellaneous small objects littered the floor, though he couldn’t make out what most of them were at a glance. Tristan began searching through the scattered objects, looking for anything that could possibly be of use. He found an old picture in a shattered frame, so worn that he couldn’t even distinguish what it was of. However, the broken glass could certainly prove useful. Other than that the only thing that stuck out was a small container with a cap on it and a small woven strap. Taking the container in his hand, he popped off the cap and poured out the contents which made a dull thumping noise on the floor below. It held inside what looked to be some kind of rock, some metal object that looked a little like brass knuckles, and several strips of some sort of fabric. It suddenly struck him what it must be, a tinderbox, the sort he knew from his days of playing Runescape! As far as he could gather, the rock was flint, the metal thing was the steel, and the cloth must be used as tinder of sorts. He tested his hypothesis by slipping on the metal and striking it against the rock. Much to his delight, bright sparks formed in front of his eyes. He wasted no time salvaging the legs of what was once the table as firewood, snapping them into more manageable lengths, piling them up in the fireplace, and placing a strip of cloth underneath the pile. He struck some sparks next to the cloth several times and eventually, to his endless delight, it caught fire! The fire spread slowly from the cloth towards the legs and eventually caught them on fire as well. Before long he had a reasonable-sized fire in front of him, flames dancing and lighting the whole cabin in a cheery glow. “Ohh yes, that has got to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life,” mumbled Tristan aloud. The feeling slowly began returning to his extremities as the warmth began to seep in, causing him to become lost in the bliss of the moment for a while. After becoming suitably warm he decided to get some sleep for the night and let tomorrow take care of itself. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A rhythmic crunching outside the cabin jarred Tristan from his slumber. The crunching sounded like something going through the snow, and Tristan could feel the ground reverberating somewhat from the thumps, hinting at something very heavy. He quietly crept to the dirty window and peered outside, seeing a huge shape just outside the cabin. The outline of the creature looked like that of a bull, though much bigger. The thing must have been taller than he was and even longer than that. Long horns protruded from the sides of its head ending in a perfect tip, no dulling evident. From what he saw it reflected the moonlight with an almost metallic sheen and snorted out some sort of green smoke. It didn’t take him long to decide that the thing was definitely trouble. He shrunk himself down below the window, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t investigate the cabin. Was it intelligent? Was it just an animal? All he knew for certain is that he did not want to be on the wrong side of those horns, as either one of them could skewer him through with horn to spare. He slowed his breathing, attempting to stop any possible sounds as he cowered beneath the window, willing the abomination to pass by. Further crunching was heard outside as the beast moved closer to the cabin. Before long he felt the wall behind him shake as something prodded at it with a hard object, likely a hoof. He began to tremble as he waited for the impending breaking down of the door and the goring that would follow. Yet, nothing happened. The beast turned around with a loud snort and he could see a few wisps of the green gas waft through the crack under the door, which he fanned away while holding his breath. He didn’t know what the stuff was, but he did know he not want to breathe any of it in. The monstrosity slowly lumbered away and he let out a long sigh of relief that he managed to avoid a confrontation with the beast. It was still night, however, and so he huddled himself back into a ball in the corner to attempt to get back to sleep, putting the encounter as far to the back of his mind as possible. The bed was not an option, as the thing didn’t look like it could support his weight and the decaying remains of bedding would likely be worse than the hard floor. After a few worried moments he passed into a fitful sleep. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He woke up the next morning to a rumbling stomach that demanded sustenance. He decided to eat another granola bar, noting that it both did not fill him up very much and that he only had one left after this. He had yet to see any kind of berries or fruits on his walk and the forest was still eerily devoid of normal animal life, so he was going to need to find food or civilization quickly before he starved to death. Let’s see, what kind of stuff is edible around here…I remember reading about people eating wood underneath the bark, but I’d rather not dull my only small blade in an attempt to get some. Come to think of it, I still need to make a spear, too. Besides, that sounds awfully…splinter-y. Nothing else I brought with me is edible, just papers, my calculator, random knick-knacks, and…oh. Tristan grimaced at even the thought of it but knew in the back of his mind it was a very real possibility. He unzipped his backpack and took out Eric’s arm. After staring at the arm for a long moment he both mentally and physically slapped himself. “No, I’m not going to devolve to that! It’s Eric’s freakin’ arm! If I’m going to starve to death eventually I can at least do it with dignity, dammit!” he muttered fiercely. “No, I’m not going to die, and I’m not going to resort to that. I’m going to get out of this!” He put the arm back in his pack, unsure of whether he really should even bother but finding no good enough reason to get rid of it yet. With fresh determination he strapped on his backpack, gathered up his supplies, including the tinderbox and as many wood pieces from the table that he could shove inside his backpack, and opened the door of the cabin. The first thing that he noticed outside was a great number of holes in the ground where the strange beast had trodden the night before. While his footsteps would simply compact the snow beneath them these holes went straight down to the ground, hinting at a great mass. The tracks were from the north to the south, and so he continued his way eastward, nervously looking around to see if he could spot the creature. After about an hour of walking he was starting to really feel the cold once more and longed to be beside the fire again. The scenery never seemed to change and there were still no signs of life, or anything interesting, for that matter. However, knowing that going back to the cabin was a resignation to starvation, he continued onward. Roughly two more hours passed and the sun was high in the sky when he finally noticed something happening: the trees were thinning out. Excited with his sudden progress he quickened his pace and was amazed at what he saw. Perhaps fifty feet away from the tree line at the edge of the forest was a gigantic wall made of grey stone. It rose at least fifteen feet in the air and stretched on as far as he could see, slowly curving along with the edge of the forest. Either someone was trying to keep something out of the forest, or they were trying to keep something in. Great, a wall blocking my exit…but hey, at least it’s progress. And it doesn’t look like it’s in any state of disrepair; it must be maintained by someone! But what is it here for? Perhaps it has something to do with that beast from the other night… He made it to the edge of the tree line himself and examined the wall a bit more closely. He could actually see something moving on the top of it! It looked to be a horse of some sort with shiny metal barding, though he couldn’t make out the details from where he stood. “Hey, anyone up there? I need out of this place, and some food! Anyone?” he yelled up at the wall, attempting to attract the attention of whoever owned the horse. As he got closer he noticed that the horse was actually rather small, more of a pony than anything. Further, the barding it wore was reminiscent of the Roman style with a straight plume and everything. The thing that struck him as being the most odd, however, was the horn sticking out of its head. Upon hearing his shouts the pony began making noises he couldn’t place, though they didn’t sound like random neighs and the like that he would expect from a pony, it almost sounded like it was trying to speak. When he continued towards the wall he noticed that the horn became wrapped in some strange translucent aura as it appeared that the pony was exerting itself. “Uh, hey, can you understand me? Hello?” Tristan called out. “Look at me, I’m trying to talk to a freakin’ unicorn now,” he muttered under his breath. Out from the horn came a bright light and Tristan’s eyes widened as he saw a fireball suddenly materialize out of nothing and come hurtling towards him. He gave a startled yell as he lunged to the side, narrowly escaping the blast. A sharp blast of heat hit him and he looked behind him to see that where he stood a moment before the snow had all been melted and the ground slightly scorched. “The one time I find something that looks like it may be of help it shoots a fireball at me?! What the Hell is wrong with this place?!” he cursed, fleeing farther from the wall as several more fireballs detonated nearby. After he got back to the tree line the unicorn stopped firing at him and instead just watched him intently. He leaned against a tree and attempted to calm the rapid beating of his heart. This place was messed up! He looked back at the unicorn and saw what looked to be another pony flying towards it. Wait, flying? Oh joy, there’s pegasi as well as unicorns, and it looks like they’re both hostile. Something is telling me I want outside of that wall though…but how? Deciding that it would be best to get out of sight of those two monstrosities, which had begun to communicate with each other, it seemed, he hurried back towards the cabin to plan. On his way back he selected a few long and straight branches to be his new spears, should he have to fight the things. He eventually reached the cabin with little difficulty and assessed his situation while he absent-mindedly whittled the tips of the branches to a point and smoothed the sides to make them more aerodynamic. All right, so, better go over what I know so far; that should give a bit of insight as to what to do. Arrived via portal in the sky that popped up out of nowhere, so that means that either someone learned how to open up a rift in time and space with some machine or it’s actually something magical. Given the fact that I just saw a unicorn and pegasus, and whatever the Hell that thing was last night, I’m going to have to go with magic. I’m getting really hungry and all I have on me is one last granola bar, so starvation is a very real possibility. If I don’t get somewhere with food soon then it doesn’t matter what dangerous creatures there are, I’ll be dead anyway. But that wall…those ponies don’t want me to get past it, obviously, and they’re hostile to me…so, that must mean there’s something I would want on the other side. Anything would be better than this creepy forest. I’ll see if I can sneak up to the wall at night, they can’t be patrolling the whole thing if it stretches around this huge forest. Perhaps I can climb the stones…only one way to find out. Having resolved to attempt climbing the wall during the coming night he finished whittling his spears, four in all; though he began with seven. The other three were currently resting mutilated in the fireplace awaiting a light, the failed prototypes that would never get to draw blood. They weren’t very pretty, and they’d break pretty easily, but they were reasonably sharp and could do some damage if he stabbed something with one the right way. He built up another fire, savoring perhaps the last warmth he would ever feel, as he waited for nightfall, playing through scenarios in his head that usually involved him dying. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Several hours passed and the sun finally began to lower in the sky. With a determined glare Tristan donned his backpack, grabbed his spears, and ate his last granola bar. Though it wasn’t nearly enough to quell his rebelling stomach it would have to do until he got over the wall. He began his trek back to the wall, thinking a silent thanks to the cabin he so fortuitously found. The sun steadily fell lower and the moon slowly took its place in the sky, affording enough illumination to walk by, but only just. Nothing made a sound save for the rhythmic crunching of his footsteps as he slowly but surely made his way to his goal. Tonight would be arguably the most important night in his life, as he found out whether he would be able to escape the forest or simply die. About halfway to his destination something very strange took his attention. Far to his left he saw a bright light, similar to the very light of day, shimmering in the distance. Further, in stark contrast to the crushing silence he had been dealing with, noise came from the direction of the light. It sounded deep and tumultuous, like the earth itself was being sundered. Oh, no, no, no, I am not going to deal with this crap right now! Everything I’ve found so far, save for that cabin, has been bad news. I’m not going to be that moron in the horror movies that investigates the disturbances, I’m going to stick out of sight and keep my head down. He ignored the strange light and sounds as best he could and within a minute, as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped. Convinced that he should not check out what the disturbance was he dutifully continued onwards until he met the end of the forest. He could see the wall from earlier, dark and foreboding in the night. A good distance away from him he could just make out the unicorn from earlier still patrolling the wall, lit by a light that seemingly came out of the same horn that flung fireballs at him. Further down the wall, mere pinpricks in the distance, were similar beacons of light, likely more ponies. He stuck to the cover of the trees and watched the patrol route for a short while. Back and forth, back and forth, without variation, the unicorn kept to the same patrol route without missing a beat. After Tristan became suitably familiar with the timing involved he decided on what time would give him the longest window of opportunity to attempt to scale the wall, and waited for his moment. As the accursed unicorn was about to reach the perfect spot for him to make his attempt he heard a familiar crunching sound coming from the forest nearby, further down in the tree line. Squinting to make out the form in the darkness he recognized what he saw: it was the bull-like beast from the other night! Seeing it clearly, without the terribly dirty window between him and it to act as a buffer, he was even more intimidated than before. The hulking beast seemed to be made out of metal plates, covering it like the scales of a snake. It occasionally snorted out the green hazy gas from before as it looked up at the light of the unicorn. He decided to watch how the confrontation would conclude, as the metal beast certainly didn’t seem friendly to the unicorn. He watched as the unicorn suddenly spotted the metallic monstrosity and let out a cry in that strange language it had. The bull-like creature let out a cry of its own, though it was obvious that it was not in fear, it was in challenge. The beast, which Tristan decided to refer to as Mecha-Bull, charged towards the unicorn as it tossed out some fireballs at it, just like the ones that it threw at Tristan earlier. They hardly seemed to have any effect, however, as the fireballs each met their target and momentarily brilliantly illuminated the metallic form before going out as if they had never existed. The beast got up to the wall as several more unicorns ran to the aid of the now obviously panicking pony under siege, along with a few pegasi of the type he had seen earlier. Something in the back of his mind shouted at him to take the opportunity and make his attempt but the sheer awe and fear of the spectacle kept him rooted to his spot inside the trees. One of the pegasi dive-bombed Mecha-Bull, hitting it straight in the side with a loud clanging sound, but it had no effect. That is to say, no harmful effect; the attacks did have one effect: making it angry. Seeing that its attackers were out of range it rammed itself into the wall, attempting to knock one of the unicorns down to its level. However, the unicorns maintained their balance and stayed up on the wall, desperately attempting different kinds of attacks to try to damage Mecha-Bull. Tristan watched in fascination as fire, lightning, rocks, and what looked to be pure magical energy bombarded Mecha-Bull to no avail. The continued ramming of the wall was starting to break it down, creating a hole in it and causing one startled unicorn to lose its balance and fall to the ground below. Mecha-Bull wasted little time in trampling the unicorn to death. The pegasi attempted to help their unfortunate comrade, but couldn't get past the thrashing of Mecha-Bull's razor sharp horns. Even from his distance he could hear the strangled death cries of the misfortunate unicorn and the sharp snapping sounds of its bones under the massive weight of Mecha-Bull. Well, I’m certainly glad that thing didn’t get into the cabin last night…I would have been completely screwed! The unicorn’s cries ceased and the others began to understand that their attacks weren’t working, causing them to attempt targeting different parts of the body to find a weak spot in a desperate final gambit. However, before they could make any sort of progress, Mecha-Bull let out a huge cloud of the green smoke in a violent emanation in front of it, enveloping the remaining unicorns. When the smoke cleared he saw that the unicorns had stopped moving entirely, one of them was even in mid dodge and frozen in that position. It looked like they had been turned to stone! The pegasi backed off after seeing this and circled above Mecha-Bull, clearly afraid of sharing the same fate. Seeing that the remaining attackers were hopelessly out of range Mecha-Bull let out an enraged snort and ran headlong into the wall, crashing through the hole and causing the wall around it to tumble down. It began charging off into the night on the other side of the wall and the pegasi swiftly trailed it. After the dust had settled Tristan cautiously crept towards the rubble, hoping that no hidden pony stayed behind and no more terrifying beasts the likes of Mecha-Bull were attracted by the commotion. When he got closer he had a chance to examine the unicorns, both the ones that he could now confirm as being turned to stone and the one that was simply trampled to death. The mush that vaguely resembled what used to be a unicorn nearly caused Tristan to vomit. He averted his eyes from the gore and attempted to ignore the pungent smell of blood and death, instead looking at one of the petrified unicorns. The thing had gigantic eyes that seemed to be too big in comparison to the rest of its head and other things seemed off about it as well, though he couldn’t exactly put his finger on what due to not having much experience with normal ponies. At any rate, these things were obviously his enemies and he needed to get as far away from them as possible. He climbed over the rubble with some difficulty, adding a few new scrapes to his growing collection, and saw the other side was an open expanse with a few trees dotted from place to place. Most importantly, however, he saw a road. While it seemed likely that the road would be travelled on and protected by ponies like the sorts he had already seen, it had to lead somewhere, and anywhere with a population had to have some food. Well, wherever I am it’s certainly not Earth, even with the similarities. I suppose there’s only one way to make any progress, though…continuing on. I hope nothing saw me cross that wall. I doubt I could win a fight with any of those ponies with my spears, much less a monstrosity like Mecha-Bull. I suppose there’s not really much hope for me getting back home any time soon, which means I should really do something about this arm… He quickly dug out a hole in the ground using some of the broken stone as a means to dig and ceremoniously placed Eric’s arm inside, covering it back up with dirt and staring blankly at the mound for a moment. I suppose that’ll have to do; I’m sure he’d understand, given the circumstances. Beats having a slowly rotting human arm in my pack anyway, that’d be nothing but trouble. Sorry, Eric! Taking a deep breath, he left the wall behind him and headed towards the road. While he knew he couldn’t stay directly on the road he could still follow it from a distance, and anywhere had to be better than here.