//------------------------------// // Chapter Four // Story: Rifts // by Eldamaur //------------------------------// For the next few hours Tristan was stuck strapped to his bed, unable to wriggle free. Even if he had been able to, he knew there was nowhere to go, as the cold and wind hinted at the chariot being very high up in the sky. Any attempts to gain the attention of the guards, for any reason, were ignored; whether that was because of the wind drowning out his voice or because they were purposefully ignoring him was unclear. He decided to use the time to rehearse his story in his mind, so that he wouldn’t stumble over his words too much in his inevitable meeting. He could have dealt with all of that, though, if not for one thing. He became filled with an increasingly urgent need to relieve himself; though all of his cries for the chariot to pull over were futile. The trip lasted several hours, with him needing to go for about half of it. At long last the chariot finally began to descend, causing Tristan to let out an audible cheer, which was again met with silence from his escorts. The climate they had arrived at felt a lot warmer than the frigid weather of Stalliongrad, though he hadn’t noticed the change amid the biting cold that had come with the flight. The chariot finally came to a halt under what appeared to be a castle. There was no other way Tristan could describe what he was seeing; the white, gold, and purple towers complete with battlements he saw jutting into the sky were proof enough. Before he was hauled off into the castle he saw a group of pegasus guards flawlessly flying in a tight formation around the fortifications. He was unceremoniously hoisted up out of the chariot by magic and carried toward a large double door leading into the castle. Guards in shining golden armor were everywhere, and all of them seemed to have an eye on Tristan. He noticed that while there were unicorns, pegasi, and those with neither a horn nor wings, their coloration was always the same: either grey or white. This conflicted with the almost nauseatingly colorful ponies he saw during his brief stay in Stalliongrad. I really, REALLY need to go right now, but these guards haven’t acknowledged a thing I’ve said since they collected me...I hope this meeting is done quickly! At least if this princess orders my execution I won’t have to go so badly! The guards took him through the grand double doors to an entryway that left him speechless. Though his vision was restricted by his position he could see immaculate tapestries and other decorations everywhere. The walls were of all different values of purple and gold, giving a regal feeling. There was no doubt that this was the dwelling of royalty, or at least high nobility. The spacious halls were not busy, and no ponies other than guards could be seen. Not a single servant, noble, or petitioner was in view. There were no sounds, either, save for the rapid clopping of hooves upon the floor. After travelling through the entry hallway the ceiling opened up to reveal a grand room, though he couldn’t see where he was being taken to exactly. His heart began to race as he anticipated the judgement of their ruler, while trying to not wet himself. He was eventually brought to a halt and set down on the ground. He could see towering above him a magnificent pony, far larger than any that he had seen before. The size made it look like more of a horse than a pony, and it was gifted with both a horn and wings. It was adorned with bright jewelry and its mane was strangely flowing as if it was caught in the wind, despite the fact that there was no breeze in the room. Everything about its countenance screamed nobility and grace. “Thank you for bringing him to me, you are dismissed,” it said in a commanding, yet almost motherly tone. “Yes, your highness!” The guards all saluted in unison and promptly marched out of the room without another word nor a single glance back, closing the door behind them and leaving only Tristan and the grand pony in the room. This has got to be the princess they were talking about...this thing is something else! And both a horn and wings, that’s gotta mean something. Just be calm, don’t insult her, and try not to piss yourself...come on, you can do this, Tristan, you can do this. He looked up at the pony to see her staring down at him with a scrutinizing, yet not hostile, glare. “I am Princess Celestia, co-ruler of this land. I understand that you have attacked some of my subjects, is that correct?” she questioned in an even tone. “Y-yes, your highness, majesty, sir, ma’am, err,” Tristan blurted out in fear, not daring to cross this obviously powerful being, especially not in his current state. He had expected to deal with some sort of snobbish royalty, but the difference between this pony and the others he had met was palpable. “The normal policy is for all rift spawn to be kept within walls away from pony kind and destroyed on sight, yet this was not the case for you. I will give you a chance to explain your actions to me, as well as your circumstances, before I pass judgement,” Celestia stated with an unreadable expression, not showing the slightest hint of anger, pity, fear, or anything of the sort. “I came here by accident, I swear! One moment I was in my home town, the next I was falling through a rift to some forest! All I did was try to survive; I’m really not a violent person. Yes, I did attack ponies, but where I come from ponies aren’t intelligent, they’re just animals!” Tristan stated with agitated gusto. Wait, I just mentioned that ponies are animals on Earth! If she takes that as an insult I’m so screwed... Celestia did not respond to him and merely waited for him to continue, still not betraying any emotion. “My first encounter didn’t go so well, I waylaid a pony pulling a cart. Looking back on it now I know it was foolish, but the only experience I had to go off of was guards that were trying to kill me. If I left the pony alone I would likely have starved, if I attacked I would possibly make it. I didn’t consider a peaceable approach because I didn’t think ponies were peaceable,” he continued, unable to make direct eye contact. “When I broke into Iron’s home I was just looking for supplies, I didn’t want to have to hurt any ponies...but then I was caught, and I had to do something. I attacked Iron and her kid and almost killed her, but I couldn’t. I saw that you ponies were, well...human, in a way, and I couldn’t kill one of you. After having spoken with Iron I feel terrible about attacking her, I really do...if I had killed her, she would have left two kids alone in the world,” Tristan trailed off at the end, imagining two orphans crying out for a mother that would never again respond. “I’m really, really sorry for what I did. I just want to go home, to see my family again. All I ever wanted to do was survive, is that really so bad?” he finished wistfully. The die were cast; he couldn’t think of anything else he could say to plead his case. Celestia was silent for what seemed like an eternity to him while he fought the urge to squirm to get more comfortable. Instead he nervously glanced at her and away again over and over, attempting to keep some semblance of calm but failing miserably. “I care for all living things here in Equestria, and I have always held their interests at heart, great and small. Rift spawn such as yourself have been excluded from that, for it had been found that you are all mindless beasts. You have proven that wrong in your speech. Not only can you communicate, but you show something that is very important for all intelligent beings to have: empathy,” Celestia began. “The fact that you proclaim regret for what you have done says many things about you. Specifically, it shows that there is hope for peaceful co-existence,” she continued. At the end of her statement Tristan’s eyes immediately lit up. Is she seriously saying what I think she’s saying? Yes, go Tristan, +10 diplomacy! “However,” she continued once more, before Tristan could get a word in edgewise. "This does not change the fact that you have acted violently towards innocent ponies. I can sympathise with your circumstances, but they do not absolve you of your guiltiness,” she finished, fracturing Tristan’s hope. “So...uh...what are you going to have done with me, then?” Tristan asked pathetically. “That depends a great deal on yourself. It would be rash to make a decision so quickly, and so you will be kept under close supervision while you heal. After that, we shall see what is to become of you,” Celestia responded, her tone finally softening somewhat. “So, does that mean I’m not going to be executed or something?” Tristan confirmed. “No, you will not be executed. I’ve seen you myself and you do not seem to be any great threat to my little ponies, but that does not mean you are free to roam as you please. For now simply focus on recovering from your injuries; I will be keeping a close eye on your progress,” Celestia answered. Upon hearing that he would not perish relief flooded through Tristan, finally relaxing the tension he had been carrying for hours. That relaxation came at a price, however, as he found he had just wet himself. “Oh shit!” he cried out reflexively, trying to stop himself, but to no avail. Celestia, to her credit, did not look perturbed in the slightest. “It seems you have some needs that must be seen to,” she started with the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. “Guards, I am finished!” she called out, at which several guards burst through the doorway and briskly trotted up to the two. “He is to be taken to finish his recovery. Treat him as a guest, see to his needs, but do not allow him to walk freely through the castle,” she addressed to the guards, who saluted in unison again and began to wheel Tristan off. He was taken through numerous corridors of the castle before descending some stairs, ending up in a lavish, though rather dusty, room in a remote section of the castle. The guards did not unbind him, instead just leaving him in his mobile bed sitting in the middle of the room, soaking in his own secretion. “Hey, wait, aren’t you supposed to untie me? You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!” Tristan called out to them as they filed out of the room without a glance back. The door shut behind them, leaving Tristan in the room alone. They aren’t just going to leave me in here like this, are they? I suppose this beats being executed...but that doesn’t really change the fact that this is incredibly uncomfortable. And she said to treat me like a guest; I can’t imagine that they’d treat many guests like this! He was alone for a while, during which time he examined the room as best he could. It had a comfortable-looking though rather small bed, a window that let in the daylight, two doors, and other assorted furniture. Overall, it was a nice room, though the musty smell alluded to its disuse. Having nothing better to do, he decided to take stock of his situation. So, I’m not going to be killed, but I’m still not free. They’ve left me tied to this bed, but in a nice room. Still no idea about how the Hell I’m supposed to get back home, but there will be time for that question when I’m not lying in piss soaked sheets. And it feels like the pain from my stomach is coming back, wonderful. I hope they get someone in here soon... After a few more boring minutes he saw the door open, revealing a light blue unicorn with a cream colored mane and a mark of an open book being written in with a quill on its flank. The unicorn looked dispassionate and incredibly serious, not showing any sort of reaction to Tristan lying in front of him. “A real rift spawn, and one that’s not trying to kill me at that...how very interesting! I am to be your caretaker, so to speak. You may address me as Lore; I am a researcher who has studied the effects of the rifts, and now you,” the pony formally stated in a decidedly male voice, oblivious to Tristan’s discomfort. “Yeah, that’s fascinating and all, and my name is Tristan, but as you may be able to see I’m not exactly in a very good position here. Any chance you could unstrap me from this thing?” Tristan said, not caring much about polite pretense at the moment. “Yes, yes, I suppose it would be best to get you out of those bindings. Princess Celestia herself has proclaimed that you are not overtly dangerous, but if for whatever reason you decide to be violent, keep in mind I can and will defend myself, understood?” Lore half-threatened while undoing Tristan’s bindings with his magic. Right, this guy is sure to be loads of fun. I’ll bet he’s just the life of the party... Tristan finally rose from bed and heaved his legs over the side, planting them on the floor. The moment he attempted to sustain balance unassisted, however, he was struck by a sharp pain in his gut and immediately fell to the floor, groaning in pain. “Oh my...you really shouldn’t be attempting to get up like that in your condition. Allow me,” Lore said without any real empathy evident in his voice, levitating Tristan up to the stationary bed. “I’ll be back in later for some questions, but before I leave I was told to ask you if there was anything you needed. Is there?” he asked indifferently. While there was no malice in his voice, there wasn’t any inflection of kindness either. “No, I’m perfectly comfortable just as I am,” Tristan started, sarcasm dripping from his voice. At that, however, Lore turned around and began to walk towards the door without another word. “H-hey! Wait, that was sarcasm! I’m most definitely not comfortable!” he cried out, regretting his choice. “I need a change of clothes, something for this pain, and some food. You think you would be able to help with those?” Tristan questioned, already starting to dislike the unicorn. “I believe provisions could be made for those, yes. Do stay in the room while I’m gone. Believe me, you do not want to cause any trouble. For your own good, of course. Goodbye for now,” Lore responded, finishing his walk to the door and exiting, leaving Tristan alone again. That guy is supposed to be my caretaker? Lovely. At least he seems like he’s competent enough, I really do need a change of clothes...though, how would they have clothes for me? They’re not bipeds, so either they’re going to have to make something or they’ll give me something generic. Besides, most of them don’t even wear clothes! Given my luck recently, I’m going to have to go with something generic. His latest wait proved shorter than the first, ending as the door opened again to reveal a pony that was obviously a nurse, wheeling a cart covered in all sorts of objects. By this time Tristan found he could recognize the differences in genders between ponies, and could distinguish that this one was a female. She had a clean white coat with matching wings, a light brown mane kept in a tight bun, and a mark of a stethoscope on her flank. The nurse started to walk through the doorway, saw Tristan, and let out a small, “oh!” She then hastily backtracked, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Tristan didn’t have time to think about what just happened, as he heard her knocking. She’s...knocking on the door? Huzzah, common courtesy does exist in this whacked-out universe! I like her already. He called for her to come in, which she did. Her first few steps towards Tristan were small and uneasy, but at the behest of Tristan’s non-threatening gaze she sped up and reached him. “Hello there dearie, I’m Nurse Nightingale,” she began, putting on as brave of a face as she could in front of Tristan. “And my name is Tristan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Really, there’s no need to be afraid, I mean you no harm,” he responded, lifting up his open hands to accentuate his message. She gave him a small smile at that and began her work. “I hear you’ve had some pretty bad abdominal trauma, is that right?” she questioned, scrutinizing Tristan’s now soiled bandages. “Yeah, it was pretty bad from what I’ve gathered; it didn’t hurt much earlier but it’s been hurting more and more. The bandages kinda sting now too, given, well...” Tristan trailed off at the end, fighting off a slight blush of embarrassment at having wet himself. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve got just the things you need right here, but first we’ve got to get these bandages off of you,” Nightingale assured him, helping him prop himself up against the headboard of the bed and gently unwinding his bandages. The scene underneath the bandages made Tristan rather queasy. While there were no incisions evident, and the gash he had from earlier was nowhere to be seen, purple and red discoloration bloomed forth from where he knew the hoof had made contact with him and the whole area looked scratched up and sensitive. He knew that the scene underneath the skin must have been gruesome. Nightingale was unfazed by the sight and started to work, deftly sponging off the area and applying a thick, cool cream. Tristan was silent as she worked, still amazed at the dexterity ponies could show with their hooves and mouths. Nightingale wrapped Tristan back up with some fresh bandages, and began rummaging around in her cart again. “Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for this. You’re being very professional about bandaging me up. I can’t imagine that it’s very easy for you considering I’m apparently supposed to be some sort of monster here,” Tristan offered, genuinely grateful for her unflinching assistance. “You don’t seem like much of a monster to me, dearie! What matters is that you’re hurt, and I can help. Besides, it is my job after all, isn’t it?” Nightingale responded, still rummaging around in her cart. “Well, all the same, thanks. That cream you put on isn’t really helping with the pain though; it’s still getting worse. Does it take awhile to act or something?” Tristan queried, becoming more and more uncomfortable with his internal pain, though the burning from the old bandages had stopped at least. “Don’t be thanking me yet, I haven’t given you the stuff for your pain...ah, here we are!” she answered, pulling from the cart one of the thickest needles Tristan had ever seen. “Woah, you can’t be serious! That thing is huge! I think I’ll tough it out, thanks!” Tristan cried out in fear. “The pain you have is just going to keep getting worse; this is for your own good. Now, are you going to lie still or am I going to have to get some help in here?” she asserted. Tristan weighed his options for a moment, his fear of the guards eventually winning over his fear of the needle. Resigned to his cruel fate he submitted, presenting his arm to her. One painful prick later everything rapidly became numb as all of his pain oozed away. “That...works really well, actually. How can it work that well? There’s no way that could have already circulated or whatever it needs to do,” Tristan said sedately, the numbness taking away his cares. “I’m not sure what goes into it myself, it’s those unicorns that make it. Bless them, they sure do make my job easier with all of their fancy inventions. Now, I’ve got a gown here for you that should fit, though it might be a little big. We keep a few in stock for non-ponies, and you’re similar enough to a minotaur for this to work,” Nightingale replied. “Wait, so there are other creatures besides ponies that are sentient here? By minotaur you do mean like the head of a bull, torso and arms like mine, and cloven feet, right? I’m not sure if that’s exactly how they’re supposed to be, but close enough,” Tristan stated, bewildered once more. “Of course there are other races! Minotaurs, diamond dogs, gryphons, and zebras, just to name a few. And yes, that would be pretty much be a minotaur.” she responded as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Interesting...not only do other sentient races exist here, but some from human myths as well, it seems. What’s more, I heard minotaur, which meant the translation worked to an equivalent that I know, even though I’ve never seen a minotaur from here. I wish I knew how this magic worked; I wonder if I can learn how to use it later on... As Tristan was deep in thought Nightingale unfolded a gown from her cart, flittering up into the air to judge its dimensions, finding it satisfactory. She then laid it at the foot of the bed and addressed Tristan. “Alright, get out of those nasty clothes you’ve got on and try that gown on. We’ll see about getting you bathed later, but for right now we won’t worry about that. I’ll be back soon with some food, did you have anything specific in mind that you wanted me to fetch?” Don’t say bacon don’t say bacon don’t say bacon... “Uhh...” Tristan responded, thinking of what ponies might have that he would be able to eat. “I’m really not sure what you would have, actually. Could you just bring me some things you think I might like? If you have something along the lines of grass, though, I can’t eat that.” “One combo platter, no grass, coming right up!” she responded with a kindly smile. “Do be careful when you’re changing your clothes, try not to strain yourself or stretch out too much,” she added, finally wheeling off the cart and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. Now there’s a pony I can genuinely like...it’s nice to know that some of them are friendly, at least. Wish that unicorn guy, Lore, was more like that. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose. Tristan tentatively twisted to and fro, assessing his state to see if it caused any pains. Upon finding that it didn’t he cautiously changed into the gown, finding it a bit big but otherwise comfortable, and threw his soiled clothes into a corner of the room. He spent the rest of his time peacefully lying in the bed, enjoying a moment to relax amid the chaos that his life had become. As he was about to drift off a knock came from the door, soon followed by Nightingale wheeling another cart. This cart was laden down with all manner of succulent looking fruits, drinks, and pastries. The smell wafting from the fresh pastries instantly set Tristan’s stomach rumbling, reminding him of his hunger. “I hope these work for you, I tried to get a variety,” Nightingale commented, loading a few items on a plate and pouring a glass of orange juice for Tristan. “I figure you deserve a little treat after being such a good patient, after all.” “It looks amazing, thanks a lot!” Tristan exclaimed, gratefully accepting the proffered plate and glass. He was answered by a smile from Nightingale, who had clearly lost all of her previous fear of him. The next few minutes passed with Nightingale attending to him, fetching food from the tray and making sure he kept the bed clean. After his feast was finished and his stomach was full Nightingale packed up the cart again. “Well, that’s the end of my duties for now, dearie. You know, there were all sorts of rumors that you were some terrible monster going around in the halls, but you’ve certainly proved those wrong. I’ll go fetch Mr. Lore, I think he has some questions for you. Is there anything you need before I go?” she concluded, still giving Tristan a warm smile. “No, you’ve taken care of everything, thanks again! You sure are nice, for a pony. I mean, err, I’m sure ponies are usually nice, but, err...” Tristan faltered awkwardly at the end, regretting his choice of words. “They’re just frightened of you, that’s all,” Nightingale assured him knowingly. “I don’t know how much you know about the rift crisis, but there’s some good reasons for them to be. I’ll let Lore talk with you about that though, it’s really not my place. Goodbye for now!” she finished, wheeling the cart out of the room after Tristan said his farewell. Tristan didn’t have time to reflect on the day any further as Lore arrived promptly, several scrolls and quills floating behind him in that strange aura unicorns made. Unlike Nightingale he did not bother knocking, nor did he even acknowledge Tristan until he was at the bed. “I trust that your requests have been taken care of appropriately?” Lore questioned without a hello. “Yes, Nightingale was very helpful,” Tristan responded. “You could stand to learn a thing or two,” he muttered softly under his breath. Lore either didn’t hear or didn’t care as he unfurled one of the scrolls, scanning its contents. “Let’s see...I recognize that you must have many questions of your own, so let’s trade a question for a question, shall we?” he inquired rhetorically. At a small nod from Tristan he cleared his throat and began. “Do you have any magical or supernatural capabilities, such as telekinesis, mind reading, or the ability to create an elemental attack?” “Hah, I wish!” Tristan started with a laugh, which garnered only a harsh stare from Lore. “Err, I mean, no, I’m just a plain mundane human. Do I get to ask a question now?” “Yes, though if it’s anything that I deem you are unfit to know I will not answer the question,” Lore stiffly responded. “All right, let’s get right to the big one. Can I get home? And if so, how?” Tristan queried. Lore merely let out a sigh and put his hoof up to his face. “You didn’t waste any time getting to that, did you? I can answer your question, but I’ll need to explain the rifts as well, so it’ll count as two. How much do you know about the rifts so far?” “Not much, just that rifts started opening up in specific places to other worlds,” Tristan answered. “Then I’ll go into why the rifts began first, so you won’t be completely lost at everything else I tell you,” Lore began. “A brilliant magical researcher, whom I have collaborated with before, known as Bright Future made a breakthrough with teleportation magic. Normally, teleportation requires an experienced and powerful unicorn to cast a spell, making it infeasible for mass transportation of goods or ponies.” “He was learned in the magical arts, and so, was well acquainted with the works of the great Starswirl the Bearded, a powerful unicorn who lived long ago and made many breakthroughs of his own. One theory that Starswirl came up with was never tested and largely left to antiquity: the multiverse theory.” “Hey, I’ve heard of that!” Tristan interrupted, sheepishly motioning zipping his mouth shut at Lore’s indignant glare. “Continuing on, the theory stated that there are an infinite number of universes, each slightly different from each other. A dimensional barrier of sorts is all that keeps each universe apart, and is theorized to be what is manipulated when a unicorn casts a teleportation spell. The spell essentially scrunches up the barrier for a split second, moving the unicorn across only a very short distance rather than whatever distance the teleportation took them across.” “Bright Future theorized that a portal could be made using this barrier, basically making semi-permanent scrunch in it between two specific places. While that may sound like a very radical and dangerous idea, given that teleportation does it all the time, it was not expected to have any adverse effects.” “His attempts succeeded, and the portal network was born. Soon, portals stood linking every major population center and the economy boomed with the ease of transportation. Before long, however, strange happenings began to occur. Bizzare lights and sounds were noticed coming from some areas, notably natural magic hotspots, such as the Everfree Forest. Nopony thou-” “Stop for a moment, sorry. What’s a natural magic hotspot? I’m unfamiliar with the term, and you didn’t show any signs of letting up with your lecture...” Tristan interrupted once again. “My lecture? If you find this boring then come right out and say it; I don’t want to waste my breath explaining such a matter to one who does not wish to listen!” Lore retorted in a semi-hostile voice. “Woah, uhh, I didn’t mean to be rude, I honestly don’t know! I think the story is really interesting, honest!” Tristan shot back quickly. Lore let out a huff and regained his composure, taking back his normal speaking tone. “A natural magic hotspot, or NMH, is a place where natural magics override the normal ambient magic in Equestria. This causes strange effects, such as unregulated weather and bizarre animal behavior,” he continued, calming down fully towards the end. “Continuing on once more, I’ll try to condense this a little so that you actually understand what I’m saying. A small research team with a guard escort was sent to the Everfree Forest to investigate these happenings. After several days of not being close enough to any opening rifts before they closed they witnessed a rift opening in front of them. The world through the rift was dark, even though it was currently daytime, and a terrible worm-like monster slithered through the rift, managing to kill two guards before being slain itself,” Lore continued, dispassionate even at the description of death. Tristan had the feeling from the way he spoke that he had to have explained this many times before. “Research was conducted that eventually found that the portal network was not only using the dimensional barrier, but weakening it. A royal decree caused all portals to be shut down, but the damage was done. The rifts continued to open, and nopony has figured out how to reinforce the barrier yet. It’s still not known why they most often appear in NMH’s, though they sometimes appear outside of these areas. For this reason every town has been garrisoned with guards, something previously unheard of.” “So...you’re saying that the rifts open by themselves, and you can’t control them? How can I get home, then?” Tristan questioned, his hopes plummeting at the explanation. “Well, we have not been able to open a rift ourselves, and even if we could there would be no way of finding which universe you came from in the first place. Given time a way may be devised, perhaps you hold the key to finding your home universe in you, but currently there’s nothing to be done about it,” Lore responded. Tristan thought that he could almost discern some sympathy in his voice towards the end, but couldn’t quite be sure. So that’s it...no way home, I’m stuck here. I’ll most likely never see my parents, Eric, anyone that I’ve ever known again. No goodbyes, no closure, nothing... Tristan fought the urge to cry, his eyes moistening despite his efforts. The thought of losing all that he had was overwhelming, and he zoned out for a moment, trying to process the information. In the days prior he had been either focused on his survival or on finding his way home, and to have that hope taken from him now was terrible. “...I can see that you are rather...distraught,” Lore began tentatively. “If you would like some time to ruminate, I suppose I can come back later when you’re feeling more stable.” “...No, ask your questions, I’m all right,” Tristan said weakly, sniffling slightly to better compose himself. “All right, then...next up, the report that came with you mentioned that you said there was no magic in your world. Is that true?” Lore asked in his usual way. “No, no magic at all. We get by just fine with technology. Magic does exist, but only in legends and the like: it’s never been proven to be real. Speaking of legends, we’ve got unicorns and pegasi in our myths as well, but they don’t actually exist,” Tristan answered evenly, successfully recomposing himself. “Fascinating, perhaps something like the current rifts happened long ago and caused interdimensional cross-contamination between our races, so to speak. That leads to another question, what kind of technology do you have?” Lore queried. “Oh, tons. Planes that transport people through the air, computers that can do math and the like millions of times faster than a person could, enough weapons to kill all life on the planet several times over...that kinda stuff,” Tristan responded, adding in the last part to try to get some sort of a reaction out of Lore. “Really? Such advances must have created utopia! But then, the part about the weapons is a little worrisome...” Lore drifted into thought at the end, absently staring out the window. Their exchange continued for a long time, each learning a great deal about the other's culture. Tristan learned of the three pony races and the other sentient creatures throughout Equestria, the basic things that magic was used for, and the duties of princesses Celestia and Luna, among other things. Lore learned about all of the advances that humans had made to dominate their world, the animal counterparts to ponies, cows, and the like in Tristan’s dimension, and much more. Lore eventually bade Tristan goodnight as the sun began to set, taking his wealth of notes with him. Tristan, exhausted by the transaction of knowledge, fell asleep without any difficulty. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next week consisted largely of sitting around and doing nothing. Lore stopped by daily to ask Tristan more questions and to divulge more about Equestria. Nurse Nightingale, who was apparently assigned to him now, kept him comfortable and saw to his daily needs, medical or otherwise. Towards the end of the week Tristan’s injuries were nowhere near as severe as they once were and he was eased off of the pain-killing medication. His days fell into a comfortable routine, which didn’t change until the seventh day. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan awoke as he had every morning prior, to the tantalizing smell of a hot breakfast being brought in by Nightingale. Unlike the previous mornings, however, Lore was accompanying her. Upon Tristan’s asking of why he was there he simply said he would wait until after the meal, making Tristan nervous as he ate. As soon as Tristan finished Lore spoke up. “As you know, I have been keeping Princess Celestia informed about your progress. She has deemed that now is the time for another audience, and so we’ll prepare you for it. Are there any questions?” Lore informed Tristan, seeming a bit more agitated than usual. Tristan had been dreading this, and had hoped that he would have a little longer before he had to meet with her again. As such, he was a little nervous. “When is this going to be? And am I going to meet with her in this gown? You still haven’t given me my pants back, after all. How would I even get to her?” he asked quickly, his nerves showing prominently. “It won’t be for a few more hours, we’ll attempt to have you walk with a cane, if you cannot you’ll be given a wheelchair, and as for clothing, you remember when we measured you, correct?” Lore responded easily, having been anticipating those very questions. “Oh...right! I take it that means you finally got some clothes for me?” Tristan exclaimed, excited at the prospect of finally wearing something both meant to be worn by him and wholly intact. “Yes, we’ve had an outfit made for you, and if it fits more shall be made, so you don’t have to reek so often,” Lore responded tactlessly. “Nurse, could you please bring in the clothes and the cane? I have a few matters to go over with Tristan.” “Of course! Be back in a moment,” Nightingale cheerfully answered. She left the room, and Lore’s face became even more serious than before, if such a thing was even possible. “Now then, I understand you were not properly instructed on etiquette before your first meeting with the princess, but there are some things you need to remember. Firstly, make sure you use the restroom before you have an audience,” Lore began tersely. “Yes, because I intended to wet myself in front of royalty. Real top-notch advice, Lore,” Tristan snarkily replied. “Hmmph. Well. You must also remember to address her formally, and treat her with the utmost respect. She is the one that raises the sun in the sky, you really don’t go any higher than that. This time, if you’re rude, I’ll be the one humiliated, so you had best behave,” Lore continued indignantly. “Further, you are only to speak when spoken to. I don’t know if that’s a rule you’re familiar with from your home, but it is one of the most important when dealing with royalty. You must also remember to bow upon first seeing her, and do not rise until she commands it. I will be beside you the entire time, so if you decide to do something stupid, I will know about it, understood?” Lore finished, making sure to give Tristan an extra-special death glare. “Oh come on, I’m not some uncivilized brute. I’ll be on my best behavior, and I would have been before if it wasn’t for the circumstances. You get put in my place and try acting better than I did,” Tristan responded casually, long since accustomed to Lore’s disdainful attitude. Lore didn’t have a chance to continue further as a knock was heard, announcing Nightingale’s return. “You don’t have to knock, you know!” Lore cried out impatiently, at which Nightingale entered with the cane and clothes in tow. “It’s just polite dearie, shouldn’t you be the type to know that?” Nightingale said, flashing Tristan a sly wink, unbeknownst to Lore. “Moving on...” Lore dismissively stated as he levitated the clothes up, inspecting them closely. They consisted of some plain, sturdy looking brown boots, pants made of a black fabric that Tristan didn’t recognize, and a plain white button-up shirt. Tristan noted that there were no undergarments, though he supposed ponies really didn’t have a use for those. “I know you have that strange sense of modesty, so we’ll leave you alone while you change. Please be quick, we’ll be waiting outside.” With that the two turned tail and left, closing the door behind them. Tristan examined the clothes, finding them to be made out of a tough yet comfortable-feeling fabric he had never felt before. A moment of struggling with the clothes and his gown yielded results as the clothes slipped on, fitting near perfectly. At a call from Tristan, Nightingale and Lore re-entered the room, Nightingale complementing Tristan on his new attire with Lore being stoic as always. “They seem to fit properly, very good. Now, let’s see if this cane is enough for you to walk on, shall we?” Lore questioned, not really expecting an answer. Tristan hefted his legs over the bed, trepidatiously easing his feet onto the floor, remembering the pain that standing brought the last time he tried it. Lore levitated the plain wooden cane into Tristan’s hand, and he attempted to stand. He winced at the presumed jolt of pain, though it never came. His legs were quite shaky and he felt a great deal weaker than before, causing him to lean heavily on the cane, but there was no pressing pain. “So it seems you can stand alright, excellent,” Lore began as he saw Tristan maintaining balance without much issue. “That makes things easier. Go get yourself washed up and try not to ruin those clothes. I’ll be back later,” he finished, leaving without a goodbye yet again. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little stressed is all. You just practice walking with that cane and I’ll go draw you a bath, alright?” Nightingale chimed in, going through the other door, which lead to the bathroom. Tristan stretched out a bit, cracking joints long since un-popped. He found that he was fairly slow with the cane, but it felt marvellous to be walking again all the same. He realized that he had yet to actually look outside the window, as he didn’t have a very good view from the bed and he was never taken to it on the rare occasions that he had been transported out of it for washing, so he went to take a look. The view outside was amazing, and nothing like what he was expecting. Instead of a town or city outside, he found that the castle was situated high up in the air, jutting over the side of a cliff. Directly beneath his room, after a few more layers of castle, was a sheer drop to the land below. He could see the edge of a waterfall flowing down from the castle, crashing into a river far below. Either this place has supports made of diamond stuck deep in the mountain, or magic is at work here. Suddenly I feel a lot less safe in this room... He turned away from the window, taking lighter steps as if the pressure of a heavier one would be the final straw that would send the castle into the abyss. Nightingale emerged from the bathroom, distracting him from his sudden irrational fear, announcing that the bath was ready. Tristan thanked her and hobbled over to it, sinking into the hot bath, grateful that he didn’t need assistance with it for once. One bath and grooming later Tristan emerged from the room sparkling clean, though already rather tired from his short period of activity. He clamored up into the bed once more to await the return of either Nightingale or Lore. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He was awoken from the nap he didn’t intend to take by Lore’s chastising for falling back asleep and wrinkling his clothes, which he tuned out. “...need to take this seriously! Come on now, it’s time to go!” Lore finished, to which Tristan groggily complied. “...where’s Nightingale?” Tristan sleepily inquired, his fear of the encounter with Celestia forgotten in his daze. “Now why would she be coming? We’re going to meet with the princess, she doesn’t have a reason to come along. You weren’t planning on injuring yourself on the way there, were you?” Lore chided. The two exited the room, this being the first time Tristan had done so since he first entered it a week ago. “We won’t be going to the throne room, as they don’t want the general public to see you yet. You’ll be meeting with the princess inside of her personal study instead, so don’t touch anything!” “Wait...why was I able to go to the throne room before? There weren’t any civilian ponies anywhere,” Tristan questioned as they made their way through isolated hallways. “That part of the castle was more or less put on lockdown when you first arrived. They weren’t taking any chances,” Lore answered. “Wow, you guys must have really been scared of me!” Tristan exclaimed, imagining all the trouble that a lockdown would cause, and all on his behalf. “You were, and still somewhat are, an unknown. The princess does not take chances with her subject’s safety,” Lore informed, giving Tristan a little bit of respect for Celestia. The duo finally arrived at an unassuming door that was flanked by two guards. Tristan could see several more guards blocking off the hallway on the other side, redirecting traffic away. Lore gave a terse nod to a guard, who returned it in kind and opened the door with his magic. Lore stepped inside first with Tristan following closely behind. The inside of the room was, in a word, cozy. A fireplace crackled cheerfully, illuminating the room in a warm dancing glow. Several bookcases lined one wall, and an opulently carved wooden desk sat on another. Towards the center of the room, near the fireplace, Celestia herself lay upon a lavish cushion on the floor. Lore immediately dropped down into a respectful bow and Tristan clumsily dropped into a half-bow half-kneel, seeing as a bow for a bipedal was quite a bit different. “You may rise,” Celestia stated warmly, at which both gratefully did. “Lore has been keeping me apprised of your progress, as well as your world. It seems that now is a suitable time to speak of your future,” Celestia declared, her eyes ever-piercing Tristan. “There are two primary options for you to consider, and you will be allowed to choose freely.” “The first option is to stay within this castle for the rest of your days. You will be kept comfortable, but you will not be allowed to leave. In your current state, untrusted and untested, I would not be allowed to let you walk freely,” she began. The idea of being confined for the rest of his life didn’t sit well with Tristan, but he supposed that there were many worse alternatives. “There is another option for you, however. If you are willing to do a service, and prove yourself to be a kind and trustworthy creature, you will be allowed greater freedom,” Celestia said ambiguously. “But what would that service be?” Tristan questioned, wincing as he realized his mistake while Lore shot him a murderous glare. Celestia didn’t seem to take any offense to his unbidden speech, however. “As you have proven that not all rift spawn are mindless beasts, that has created problems. There has been talk of sending out some ponies to attempt to communicate with spawn, to see if there are any others of your ilk. Sadly, any creatures that have survived within the guarded walls will have likely already come to hate or fear ponies for keeping them confined,” she began stoically. “I propose that you accompany a team in their expedition. Another race, such as gryphons, would possibly do to offset the ponies, but you are in a unique position. You could identify with what the other rift spawn have gone through, and minimize the chance for hostilities,” she finished, still unreadable. “Aren’t most rift spawn, like, really dangerous? You could just be sending me and whoever else you send to their deaths!” Tristan fearfully assessed. “It is true that the task will be fraught with peril, and there is a chance that you will not succeed, and that you will not return. You will be protected during the journey, and you will not be alone. If this is too much for you then my first offer still stands. It is fully your choice; I will not attempt to sway you either way,” she said. So the real question is...do I try to play the hero and gamble my life, or do I take the easy and safe way, with lesser rewards? Being cooped up in a castle doesn’t sound so bad in comparison with meeting something like Mecha-Bull again...but there’s so much I could learn! I can’t deny that the opportunity is enticing, and the chance of gaining freedom even more so, but that doesn’t change how dangerous it is... Lore looked troubled at the choice as well, outwardly showing his anxiety, which said a lot for him. Celestia aptly picked up on his distress and turned her attention to him. “What is it that’s bothering you, Lore?” she queried. “...Well, your highness...can we really risk losing him? There’s no guarantee that we’ll ever find another intelligent rift spawn, and there’s still so much we could learn from him. Can we afford the chance of all of that slipping away?” Lore questioned hesitantly. “What you say is true, but it’s still his decision to make. We cannot treat him like an animal, as he has shown himself to be more,” she said with a glance in Tristan’s direction, breaking him from his thoughts. “I’ll do it,” Tristan suddenly stated. Lore looked aghast, and Celestia merely gave the slightest hint of a smile. “Are you sure? If you commit to this then there will be no going back for you,” she said solemnly. “...Yes, I know. I can’t resign myself to doing nothing for the rest of my life. A man has to have ambitions, goals, he has to make something of himself. It’s one of the biggest identifying characteristics humans have, that ambition. I know it’ll be dangerous but...I can’t bring myself to turn it down,” Tristan responded distractedly, still weighing the options in his mind even as he spoke. “Very well then. Please leave us, as Lore and I have much to speak about. A guard will see you to your room,” she concluded, causing the door to open via magic. Tristan shot a glance back to Lore before he left, who was still uncharacteristically perturbed. A guard saw Tristan through the empty hallways without a single word, eventually reaching Tristan’s room. Tristan entered to see that the place had apparently been cleaned while they were gone, as the bed was made and everything was tidy. He went over to the window and stared blankly out at the landscape below, contemplating his decision. Somehow I know that I’m going to regret this later on...but yet, I know that I would have regretted staying here even more. What could have been would always nag me, and my boredom would be my punishment. Oh well, at least if I die it’ll be one Hell of a way to go. Tristan spent a long while just thinking, and considering all that he had learned since he came to Equestria. He was interrupted from his reverie by a familiar knocking on the door. He called for Nightingale to enter, which she did, bringing in that day’s dinner. “So, how did it go? What did the princess say?” Nightingale eagerly questioned, motioning for Tristan to take his place on the bed. “It could have gone worse...” Tristan cryptically answered as he made his way onto the bed and accepted the first part of his meal from Nightingale. “It looks like I’ll be leaving, though. They’re sending me back to a NMH.” “Oh, no! You’re no threat, I could see if I could talk to someone, they can’t just send you back to one of those dangerous places!” Nightingale emotionally cried out, causing Tristan to feel a warm touch of emotion at how she actually cared about what happened to him. “No no, not like that...but I really do appreciate the offer,” Tristan said quietly, garnering a confused look from Nightingale. “I chose this option over staying in the castle for the rest of my life. I’m going with some ponies to try to find other rift spawn that are intelligent. The princess says that if I do this, I’ll be granted some leniency. That would mean more freedom; I could actually do something with my life here.” “Are you sure you want to do that, though? Those places are walled off for a reason. You could get killed!” Nightingale protested. “It’s what I’ve got to do. Besides, I’ll have some guards. If I do end up not coming back, though, I just wanted to say...thanks. You’ve been kind to me from the start, and you’ve made my stay here so much better. It really does mean a lot...” Tristan trailed off at the end, not used to being so sappy. “Oh dearie, it’s been my pleasure. You just make sure you stay safe, all right? I don’t want to have to fix you up again!” Nightingale said, giving Tristan another one of her comforting smiles. The moment was broken as the door opened, revealing that Lore had returned. “Tristan can take care of feeding himself now, I think. Nurse, could you please give us some time to chat alone, if you’re finished?” Lore stated irritably. “Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be back in later for the dishes. You two be nice now!” she responded, hastily leaving the room. Lore let out a long sigh and cradled his forehead with a hoof, shaking his head back and forth. “You sure are a lot of trouble, do you know that?” he told Tristan in an exasperated tone. “Hey, she said it was my choice. Sorry if it’s not convenient for you,” Tristan shot back, annoyed at Lore making it about himself. “I’m going to be going with you, you know,” Lore spat out. “What? Why?” Tristan asked, confused at why he’d want to. “Why do you think? A team like that would need a pony that can take notes, so someone of my sort would be going regardless. And who better than me, then, when I already have experience with you? It’s all worked out. In two week’s time we’ll set out, with an escort of two guards,” Lore clarified, clearly distressed over the turn of events. “Oh...well, I never forced you to make that choice, so don’t blame me. I’m going to do my part and win myself some freedom and respect, it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re involved,” Tristan stated, ignoring Lore’s discomfort. “Well...anyway...I’ll be seeing you later. I need to go talk with some friends...” Lore said solemnly, leaving with a noticeable droop to his demeanor. Tristan contemplated comforting him, but decided against it. After another visit from Nightingale to take away the used dishes Tristan prepared for bed, his mind whirring with the different possibilities of what might come of his choice. After much tossing and turning he fell into an uneasy sleep. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next week was one gruelling workout after another. The restorative magic may have healed Tristan’s wounds but it also ravaged his body, greatly weakening him. Every morning he was up early to do exercises under Lore’s strict command, who both drilled Tristan in exercises until he was ready to drop and cast augmentative magic to help speed things up, and every night he passed out exhausted in his bed. Tristan had never been a particularly fit person during his normal life, preferring to spend most of his time in front of a computer or television screen. Eric had always been the muscle of the duo, but now he didn’t have the ability to rely upon his friend. By the end of the first week Tristan did feel a lot better, however, and he was able to get around just fine without a cane. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan awoke on the first day of the second week to a change in routine. After his breakfast Lore announced that he would receive basic training with a sword, as he would possibly need to defend himself. He began to lead Tristan through the castle once more, while Tristan peppered him with questions. “How am I supposed to learn how to fight with a sword in only a week? Will I be getting armor to go with it? You all actually trust me with a weapon now? Since when did you know how to fight with a sword, anyway? And wouldn’t the fighting style of a biped be a lot different compared to a pony?” Tristan flurried his questions without stopping. “In order, you won’t exactly become a master but you should be able to learn how to not stab yourself. Yes, some armor has been made for you, as it’s a must in such a dangerous area, you will be fighting with it on to get used to it. You’re still not really trusted, but there’s nothing you could do with just a sword against trained guards. I don’t often fight with a sword, so our two escorts have volunteered to help with this. And finally, while the specifics might be different the basics of swordplay are very general, and that’s all that you’ll have time to get,” Lore answered, slightly impressing Tristan with his ability to keep all of his questions orderly within his mind. They arrived at a large door which opened up to a grand room, not unlike the throne room in its dimensions. Large windows lined the far wall, giving a magnificent view of the world outside. The room lacked any furniture, and there were only two ponies standing inside. The two ponies both looked like the stereotypical guards that Tristan had seen everywhere, one white, one dark grey. The white one was a pegasus, at a roughly average size. The dark one was one of the larger ponies that Tristan had yet seen, and was an earth pony. The two gave a nod to Tristan and Lore in unison as they arrived, and the pegasus fluttered off to the corner of the room where a stack of gear lay. Tristan and Lore walked up to the earth pony guard, who appraised the two meticulously as they walked up. “Hello, name’s Noble Cause, that over there is Keen Edge. And you must be Tristan,” he said in a deep voice with a nod in Tristan’s direction, which Tristan responded to with an awkward wave. “And I already know you, Virgin,” he said with a nod to Lore. “...did you just say...” Tristan snickered out, eyeing Lore as his face turned red. “It’s my name, all right? Virgin Lore, there! Now let’s never speak of that again, shall we?” Lore suddenly exclaimed defensively, earning some laughter from Tristan and a small chuckle from Noble. “Anyway, we’ve got some good stuff planned for you, Tristan. This should be an interesting week,” Noble said as Keen Edge returned, dropping some armor, a real sword, and a wooden sword in front of Tristan. Tristan lifted the armor up and inspected it. The first thing that struck him was the weight; though the armor was made of metal it felt incredibly light. It was not plate, as the ponies wore, but looked to be made up of hundreds of metal scales all over. The sword looked like the classic European style, with a hilt, handle, and double edged blade. The wooden sword was quite interesting, as it was an almost perfect replication of the real sword, just dulled and made of wood. “Wow, this is some great stuff here!” Tristan proclaimed as he fondled the armor. The ponies watched in silence as he struggled to get the armor over him, eventually succeeding. It fit as well as his clothes and covered his arms, torso, and upper legs. “That’s some scale mail, they decided that it was a better idea to get something like that than rigid plate mail for you, since that’d need to be fitted more precisely,” Keen spoke up in a higher and more energetic voice than Noble’s. “By the way, name’s Keen Edge, if Noble here didn’t already introduce me. Nice to meet yah!” he finished enthusiastically, thrusting out a hoof in Tristan’s direction. Tristan took the hoof and shook it, giving Keen a smile. “Nice to meet you as well, I’m Tristan. You’re sure friendly for a pony,” Tristan returned. “Bah, those two may be sticks in the mud but that doesn’t mean we’ve all gotta be. Doesn’t mean I’m any less serious about my job, though. You’re in good hooves, so I doubt you’ll need any of this training anyway. Nothing out there we couldn’t take, I tell yah,” Keen bragged while Noble rolled his eyes and Lore stood impassively by. “Now, I believe a quick rundown of your gear would be in order,” Lore chimed in. “That armor has been specially enchanted to provide extra protection as well as to reduce its weight. The sword is just a sword, albeit a fairly nice one. That waster, the wooden sword if you’re not familiar with the term, is weighted just like the real thing, so it’ll be what you practice with.” Tristan picked up the waster and swung it around a bit, finding that it was weighted perfectly and easy to control. He thought for a moment of his crude wooden spears and wondered where they were now. The ponies all watched him as he did over the top theatrical moves that would never actually work, Keen snickering slightly at his antics. “Well, that’s very...flashy, but you’re not going to really get anywhere with that,” Noble stated, causing Tristan to calm down and face the ponies again. “The first thing to work on is hoofwork, and despite you not having hooves the basics still apply. Here, let me show you...” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The day passed quickly as they went through a crash course in swordplay. Tristan ended up with several bumps and bruises from his trials, but was happy nonetheless to actually be out doing something after a week of confinement. Keen and Noble proved to be good teachers, with Keen constantly pushing Tristan to improve even faster and Noble keeping the exercises grounded and feasible. After seeing that the three were getting along well Lore left them, only coming back once to bring them their midday meals. The next week passed in much the same way, and each day Tristan became more and more accustomed to fighting with a sword. He was nowhere near as agile as Keen with his sword, nor was he as strong and stalwart as Noble with his hammer, but he was able to at least defend against rudimentary attacks and return some of his own. Halfway through the week they decided to get him a shield made of the same light enchanted steel as his armor to go along with his sword, which he absolutely loved. During the fighting his cares melted away and he was able to immerse himself in the bliss of adrenaline and sweat. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and that week was no exception. The final day was over, and Tristan was heading back to his room with Lore, anxious about what the future would bring. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” Tristan commented to Lore in a pensive tone. “Yes...tomorrow’s it. You may not have much to leave behind if something goes wrong, but me? I only have one thing to say. If you get me killed, I’ll kill you,” Lore told Tristan with a wistful smile at the end. “Heh. Point taken. Keen and Noble are good at what they do though, I’ve got the bruises to prove that. We’ll be fine. And just think, you might get to study a rift spawn that’s not me!” Tristan declared. “Be still, my heart,” Lore responded unenthusiastically. “Make sure you’re rested for tomorrow; we’ve got a long journey ahead of us. “Yeah,” Tristan acknowledged quietly as they reached his door and he entered, as Lore began to walk away. “You too.”