//------------------------------// // Chapter Six // Story: Rifts // by Eldamaur //------------------------------// Tristan’s hold on consciousness was tenuous at best, as he fought to slow the steadily creeping blackness at the edge of his vision. It seemed that the others were leading the fight away from him, so he doubted he would be crushed. Noble was pounding away at the creature with truly vicious strikes, succeeding in moving the behemoth with some of his better placed blows. Tears streamed down his eyes as he continued his thrashing, not willing to let the monster get away alive. Lore was countering any attempt by the creature to better maneuver itself by throwing obstacles such as logs into its way, keeping it at a disadvantage. All the while Krik rode the beast like some sort of grotesque mount, ceaselessly stabbing away at the thing with his stinger. Tristan attempted to move slightly but found the pain unbearable. It felt as if every bone in his body had been broken, though the pain was actually beginning to dull. He cast his eyes out one last time at the battle before the blackness overtook him, heralding him into unconsciousness. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Their allies were all vanquished, while their enemies were almost at full strength. Only by diverging from the main group had they managed to save themselves from the ambush, but now the full attention of the others was upon them. They knew their peace wouldn’t last long, so they needed a plan. “Shit, there’s no way we can take them all on, man! There must be like ten of them left! Robbie couldn’t shoot for crap, none of them could!” Eric hissed at his friend, who currently had his head craned around the corner of their cover, looking for enemy contacts. Tristan turned his head back to Eric and gave him a death glare. “It’s not over yet, dude. They know they’ve got us outnumbered; they won’t be taking us seriously. We can make that work to our advantage. We can take ‘em, we’ve just gotta be smart about it,” he said. “Heh, looks like you’re growing some balls at last, I’m so proud of you!” Eric half-mocked. “All right, what’s the plan?” “They’re likely going to fan out to find us, so they’ll be separated. If we’re lucky every battle will turn out to be two on one, so we can make that work,” Tristan began. He then pointed to a low wall near a corner of the massive, mist-filled complex. “You get over there, and wait for me to signal you when someone is in the right spot. When I do, make a little noise, get them curious. I’ll pick them off from behind, from that point up there,” he finished, pointing to part of the second story of the complex, which overlooked the first. “So I’m the bait? Love it,” Eric said. “Make sure you don’t let them sneak up on you though, no way I could take ‘em all out myself.” Eric hunched himself down and made his way to the spot as quickly as he could, praying that the green flashing lights that adorned his torso went unnoticed. Tristan waited until he was in position before getting up to his spot, which overlooked that section of the complex with a perfect panoramic view. After about a minute their first target came into view. A small, dusty haired kid, a little younger than Tristan and Eric, was prowling around, keeping himself pressed to the wall in a futile attempt to remain unseen. The red flashing lights on his torso and shoulders sealed his fate; he was an enemy. However, he was keeping to cover fairly well, and so Tristan couldn’t get a sure shot on him. Their mark looked nervous, scanning the corners of the room with uneasy eyes. He moved just close enough to Eric’s hiding spot for their tactic to work and Tristan raised his fist in the air, signaling Eric to begin. Eric let out a loud, over-dramatic cough, startling the kid enough to make him jump. After aiming in Eric’s direction for a moment to see if he would emerge, the kid’s face broke into a wide, devious grin, and he silently prowled forward. As he came close to Eric’s hiding spot, moments before he would turn around the wall, Tristan took his shot. An accurate red laser streamed from Tristan’s rifle, hitting dead center on his target’s flashing red sensor. The sensor immediately deactivated, and he saw his now defeated enemy mouth a curse, before holstering his gun and dejectedly walking out of one of the exits. Tristan gave a thumbs up to Eric, who returned it with a wide grin. Their devious ploy worked on another four victims, which meant there would be about five enemies left. However, good luck never seems to last, and so it seemed the other team finally understood what was going on. The entirety of the remaining enemy team, six in all, came into their sector together. Tristan cursed under his breath and motioned his hand slicing his neck to Eric, hoping that he’d get the idea. The team was approaching Eric’s hiding spot, and Tristan knew his friend would soon be overwhelmed. He waited until they arrived at the usual spot and took two quick and precise shots, felling two of them. “I’m up here yah morons! Come and get me!” he yelled out, quickly making his escape to another section as they gave chase. He heard them swear as Eric cut at least one of them down and their footsteps paused for a moment as they undoubtedly took Eric down. “Four down, two to go!” Eric cried out, laughing his way out of the building. Tristan felt a grin split his face as he weighed his chances. They were coming at him, so he had the defender’s advantage, and there were only two! He stopped his running and looked for cover, finding it in a chest-high wall. He hunkered down and aimed his gun at the hallway he ran through, waiting for contact. It came shortly, with two of them running top speed at him, blasting away in his direction and weaving back and forth to make themselves harder targets. Tristan was loosing shots of his own, finding them to be much harder to hit when they were moving. He finally saw one of their packs deactivate, the sign of a successful hit. He continued firing at the final enemy, not stopping until he saw that his target had stopped moving and firing, though his pack was still active. He tried firing a few more times, finding that his gun wasn’t working. A quick check proved that it was deactivated; he had lost. Tristan slowly got to his feet, dusting himself off, and went to give the winner a congratulatory handshake. Tristan emerged defeated, but not too dejected, from the main arena to find Eric waiting for him. “I saw the scoreboards dude, tough luck. At least you got one though, right?” Eric consoled him. “Heh, yeah, taking out, like, nine people with just the two of us? That’s pretty damn good if I do say so myself!” Tristan said, breaking into a smile. “Hell yeah dude, that’s awesome! See if you can get your mom to shell out for Lasertopia again next year, this was great!” Eric returned happily. “Yeah, and we’ll win next time, too! Now that we know what we’re doing, with a duo like us, there’s no way we could lose!” Tristan returned. “You know it, man. Nothing’s gonna beat us next time around,” Eric said, fist-bumping Tristan and sharing a laugh as the two walked off together to share some birthday cake. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan slowly drifted back into consciousness to find himself moving through the forest. He was on some sort of mat that was pulled by something, being drug backwards, tied on with a rope. His entire body was in a numb sort of pain and every one of his limbs felt incredibly stiff. An attempt to turn his head to see what was pulling him proved fruitless, as he couldn’t budge anything. He could see himself splayed out before his eyes, clothes torn and armor missing. Parts of him were bloodied but he felt no pain from wounds, even in the places on his face and neck where he knew he had been cut open. It seemed his consciousness was not fated to last, however, as blackness lazily overtook him again, despite his best efforts to the contrary. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan felt good. His armor felt like a part of his skin and his sword an extension of his arm as he easily cut down the hordes of insolent pony guards that assaulted him. They did not understand his dominance, that their place was at his heel, and so they had to be dealt with. Their death cries were music to his ears and the scent of their blood a sweet perfume as he breached the main gate of the castle. Two faces that he recognized stood out to him from the others, those of Keen Edge and Noble Cause. He stayed his blade for a moment, thinking for a split-second that they were friends, before a deep voice rumbled from what seemed to be the earth itself. “You have no allies in these ponies. They would treat you as a mere animal, when it is they who are so! Cut them down and assume your place of dominance!” the voice bellowed, shaking the foundations of the castle. Tristan grinned and nodded, charging at the two. Keen attempted to fly over him but Tristan was too fast for even him, jumping at least five feet in the air and cleanly slicing off Keen’s wing mid-flight, causing him to careen into a wall, snapping his neck as he hit it. The moment his feet touched back to the ground Tristan swung at Noble, who barely managed to divert the attack with a blow of his hammer to the offending sword. Hatred burned noticeably in Noble’s eyes but Tristan did not care, for these animals were beneath him. His next strike disarmed Noble, and his final one cleanly decapitated him. Tristan knew he was looking for something, or someone, but didn’t know what. He continually dispatched every guard that crossed his path, piling the hallways of the castle with bodies and flooding the floor with blood. From time to time he would check rooms, never finding what he was looking for. The latest door he opened was to an occupied room, which he strode into easily. The room was filled with unarmed ponies, all cowering in fear. None spoke words, but each was obviously terrified, whinnying or squealing in dread like the animals Tristan knew they were. He hacked his way through body after body, none of which put up much of a fight, finally coming to five ponies that he almost felt something for. Tristan looked upon the cowering forms of Iron Striker, her two foals, and Nurse Nightingale, seeing a fearful looking Motley Trade stand between Tristan and the other ponies, legs shaking terribly. Again Tristan stopped his merciless slaughter and regarded them with curiosity, wondering why he felt no animosity towards them. It was almost as if they were his friends... “These ponies are beneath you, abominations of nature! They cannot feel as you do, they cannot think as you do, they are inferior! Take your rightful place as the dominant species!” the same voice from before roared out, causing the ground to rumble and a few of the ponies to lose balance and fall. Tristan shook himself, berating himself for being so stupid. A few slices more left the five ponies as corpses, and so he finished his work in the room and left. The sense of needing to find something intensified, as he hurried ever swifter towards his unknown goal. Tristan finally burst into a large room, finding the one he instantly knew to be his target seated in the center of it. Princess Celestia merely sat there, devoid of guards, and regarded him with a harsh stare. Tristan let out a deep laugh that was not his own and slowly advanced upon the princess, dragging his sword behind him and licking the blood that he was covered in from his lips. “Your hold over this world shall end, Celestia! Your power is weak, your domain a jest, and your armies frail! You will fall!” Tristan yelled in the voice from earlier, his words resounding through the chamber and shattering the windows all around. Tristan ran to Celestia, sword raised high, cackling maniacally all the while. He lunged forward to make his strike upon Celestia, who was not even defending herself. Suddenly, a bright light enveloped the world, and darkness followed. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan awoke with a start, his heart pounding rapidly, jerking his head up from the soft pillow where it lay. The bright light of the room burned his eyes and disoriented him, and his limbs were unresponsive and numb. After blinking his eyes into clarity he saw that his torso, both of his arms, and both of his legs were in hard plaster casts. Just a dream...I guess we got out of there all right, then. Damn thing must have done a number on me to warrant a cast like this. I just hope I don’t get an it- ah dammit. Tristan struggled around to try to ease the itch he had summoned, to no effect. Resolving to ignore it, he decided to get someone in the room so he could find out what happened. A few shouts later yielded results, as a nurse ran inside to check on him. “You’re finally up! One moment!” she cried out, turning back around and running out of the room after only giving him a fleeting glance. Well that was odd...what if I had been in pain? Shoddy nurse, that one. It wasn’t long before hoofsteps could be heard once again in the hallway outside his room. Lore came through the door alone, closing it behind him, and walked calmly to where Tristan lay. “Well well well, what have we here? You finally decided to wake up, did you?” Lore said with a smirk, eyeing Tristan’s predicament. “Don’t get all casual on me just yet, Lore. What the Hell happened? Specifically, what happened to Keen?” Tristan asked impatiently, leaving current matters for later. With that, all casual pretence dropped from Lore’s demeanor and he sat down on a chair next to Tristan’s bed. “Well...let me just tell you what happened after you lost consciousness, it’d be best to have the whole story. And no questions this time! Save them until the end!” he said, letting out a deep sigh and beginning his tale. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lore could tell that his fireball attacks were having little effect on the creature, and decided to change tactics. Noting that the monster was weaving through them with little difficulty and avoiding most of Noble’s attacks in that way, he began to heft any large object he could find in the creature’s path in an attempt to slow it down. The heavy telekinesis caused sweat to billow from his brow, but he knew that there was no escape from this creature; they had to kill it. He noticed that the monster was slowing its movements very slightly, its writhing becoming less vigorous , and its attacks becoming more clumsy. Because of this Noble was able to hammer the great thing much more effectively, causing it to roar out in pain with each successive blow. It can’t possibly be tiring out quite yet! There must be another force at work...either it’s biology is far more different than any creature in Equestria that I’ve seen so far, or perhaps...yes! Krik, as he called himself, that stinger, it must be poisoned! As if it was responding to his thoughts the monster rolled itself over once, throwing Krik off from his position. A sickening crunch sounded from below him as Krik’s abdomen was crushed, leaking blood all over and eliciting a cry of pain from him as he writhed upon the ground. The creature attempted attacking Noble several times, being unsuccessful each time as Noble nimbly dodged around, and then froze, letting loose an ear-splitting roar of pain from an unseen blow. The battle halted as it cried unto the heavens, and a blade pierced its stomach from the inside out. The blade sliced its way down and a hole opened up, spilling a green sizzling liquid, a mass of stones the size of a pony’s head, and an injured Keen onto the ground below it. Keen had his sword still clutched in his mouth but was nowhere near ready to continue fighting. His fur was covered in the green ooze and melted off in some places, exposing blackened skin underneath. His eyes were swollen shut, a deep black in color. All that he managed to do was puke up a large amount of the ooze and fall face first in it. “Keen! Don’t you dare die on me after that or I will murder you, do you understand?” Noble yelled out, redoubling his efforts at pounding the monster. With each successive blow more green ooze spurt out of the wound, until it finally stopped and it seemed that muscles had closed up the wound for now. The monster, seemingly recovered from its wound, ignored Noble’s continuing attacks and decided to go for Lore instead, slithering away from Noble as best it could and making its way to where Lore was continually hampering its movements. With only two of us left, I’m not sure how much we can do against this beast. Yet, if I may slay it, I shall! Lore charged to the side of the creature, attempting to take advantage of its poisoned state by making it turn as much as possible. However, he wasn’t nearly as fast as Noble or Keen, and misjudged the remaining strength the monster had. With a sudden burst of speed it caught up to him, lunging at him with its mouth wide open, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. Before he could even attempt to dodge the attack was diverted by a heavy blow. Lore looked in shock, having just seen death flying straight at him, expecting to see Noble with his hammer. Instead, he saw Krik back on his legs, clinging to the monster’s head and stinging it directly in its one good eye. His abdomen shone oddly in the light, as if wet, and there was not a single crack or deformation to be seen on it. “I’ve tackled beasts far worse than this, do not fear! It shall go the same way as all who have defied the formians!” Krik cried out, practically laughing as he drove his stinger ever deeper into the thrashing head of the creature. Noble and Keen stood stunned for a moment before joining in the attack on the now blind beast. Lore saw that it was attempting to escape again, and so he continually hampered all attempts by collapsing dying trees in its path, keeping it from leaving the area. After another minute of undiluted punishment the monster slithered around erratically, roaring in abject torment, before collapsing down to the ground to heave its final breaths. However, the place it collapsed was not unoccupied, and the full mass of the monstrosity fell on the unconscious Keen. “Keen, no!” Noble yelled in anguish, dropping his hammer in an instant and bucking at the dying monster with all of his strength in an attempt to get it off of his friend. Krik seemed to get the idea, as he went to help, and Lore added the last of his waning magic to the effort. Slowly the bulk lifted up, and Noble was able to pull his crushed friend out. Both Krik and Lore stood silent and Noble checked Keen’s vitals, finding them to be still. They could do nothing but look on as Noble did everything he could to revive his friend, but they all knew that he was gone. Lore gave a deep sigh, turning his attention from the now lifeless body of Keen to the still breathing one of Tristan. Knowing that it was futile to attempt to drag Noble from the side of his departed friend, Lore went to Tristan alone, checking over his situation. A quick magical assessment showed that a great deal of his bones had been broken, and a large amount of blood lost, as evidenced by the pool Tristan was currently lying in. Though he wasn’t particularly experienced in medical magic he was at least knowledgeable in the basics, and so was able to at least help a little. After taking off Tristan’s armor he snapped the bones of the mercifully unconscious Tristan back into place, forming a weak bond between the countless breaks and fractures to keep them in place for a while. He then attended to the exterior wounds, stopping the blood flowing from them and tenuously working together the flesh as best he could. Lastly, he produced from his pack a vial of red liquid which he poured down Tristan’s throat, to numb him should he wake up. Satisfied with his work, he turned back to Noble, seeing Krik standing next to him in what he assumed was meant to be a comforting stance. Amazing that we’ve only just met that thing, yet it fought with us almost to the death, and here it is staying with us afterwards...an interesting specimen as well, to say the least. I suppose I’ll need to get the talking and formalities over with as quickly as possible, so that we can get Tristan proper help. Krik saw Lore looking his way and slowly made his way over to him. “I am deeply sorry for the loss of your comrade. He fought bravely, and would have made his hive proud,” Krik said in an unmistakingly apologetic voice. “Yes...well, he knew what he was getting into. I believe that’s how he’d have wanted to go out anyway: fighting. But we have no time to waste, as my friend here is still injured. There are some things we must discuss, if you’re willing,” Lore said, composing himself from the fight and traumatic death. Krik just looked expectantly at Lore, who took a deep breath and began. “We have been sent here to find intelligent and non-hostile rift spawn, which would be yourself, and bring them back with us. Should you come, you will be treated fairly, given meals, and helped to integrate to the society of this world as a whole. It is in your interest, as well as ours, to get you out of this forest,” he said, trying to sound as official as possible. Krik stared at him for a moment, as if registering what he had said. “No, I’m afraid I cannot leave this spot. You have my apologies,” he finally stated. “But...why not?” Lore queried haltingly, his hopes plummeting. “I am forever sworn to my queen and sovereign, and must do whatever I may to get back to her. That dreadful portal placed me here, and so I wait for it to reopen. I must not take any chance of missing my opportunity to return to her,” Krik responded neutrally. “But that’s not how these rifts work! They never reopen to the same place!” Lore spurted out. Krik froze, eyeing Lore suspiciously. “And on what authority do you make such a claim? Are you involved in the creation of such portals?” he said harshly. “No, no, I assure you it’s nothing of the sort! I merely study them, but I swear to you upon all that I value that waiting here will do you no good!” Lore responded quickly, mentally berating himself for his lack of tact. Krik stared at him once more as if sizing him up before finally speaking. “Very well then, I will go with you. But know this. If I find that you have lied, and that the portal would likely have re-opened here, then there shall be no force in this realm powerful enough to stop me from enacting my vengeance,” he said calmly and evenly. Not many things could unnerve Lore, but this proved to be one of them. He gulped and nodded, suddenly very afraid of Krik again. “V-very well, but I’m not lying,” he said shakily. At that Krik gave him a nod, and turned to check on Noble. They fashioned Tristan a mat from Keen’s packs and tied him securely to it with ropes, strengthening the bottom of it with magic so Tristan wouldn’t be jostled around enough to cause more damage. Noble volunteered to carry Keen’s corpse back himself, and Lore pulled Tristan physically, his magical energies all but exhausted. With that they made their way back with little trouble. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “...and that’s the gist of what happened. When we returned to the guard station you were given preliminary treatment and rushed here. I’m afraid you’ve missed Keen’s service, which was four days ago. You’ve been unconscious for about a week, and the doctors were unsure if you were ever going to wake up,” Lore finished. And I thought I had it bad...Frankly, I’m just glad I made it out of that alive. That’s gotta be some sort of miracle for a guy like me to go up against something like that and live to tell about it. Things could have gone a lot worse... “...So Keen didn’t make it, then,” Tristan finally said, feeling rather empty inside at the thought, despite the fact that he had only known the pony for about two weeks. “He was a good man...pony. How’s Noble been since?” “He hasn’t let it interfere with his duties, but those two went way back. He got some leave, and he’s been spending time with his family, last I heard,” Lore responded. “And that ant thing, Krik? What’s been going on with him?” Tristan asked. “Ah, Krik...we’ve been talking quite a bit, as you might have expected. His culture, physiology, everything, it’s just fascinating. He places a very high value on lawfulness, as opposed to chaos. Apparently on his world those were the major two forces battling it out, so to speak. So, when you do see him again, keep that in mind,” Lore answered, his eyes lighting up at the recollection of his talks with Krik. “Glad to see you’re having such...fun. I’ve gotta ask though, what’s going to happen to me, specifically? I did what Celestia asked, and nearly got killed doing it. That’s gotta be worth something,” Tristan asserted. “Yes, well, I’ll let this letter do the talking,” Lore began, unfurling a scroll from his saddlebag and clearing his throat. “In accordance with her royal highness’ wishes, the being known as Mr. Tristan Davis is hereby absolved of all crimes against the sovereign nation of Equestria and is given freedom to do as he pleases, as long as he reports back to his caretaker, Mr. Virgin Lore, no less than once a month until further notice. Signed, Feather Quill, royal secretary to her highness Celestia,” he read aloud. “So...I’m free to do whatever I want? That’s it?” Tristan asked in disbelief. “Well, so long as you check in with me every so often, yes. Mind you, you’re not going to be in any state to leave the hospital any time soon. Other than that, I suppose you’re free to do as you please, which I personally find rather surprising. One task, and you get to do anything you wish? I suppose the princess knows best...” Lore responded, looking rather pensive towards the end. “Hell yeah! I’m a free man!” Tristan began happily. “Now I can...err...what am I supposed to do, anyway? And how would that help me with getting back home?” he finished. “Yes, well, that’s the issue, isn’t it? You have the freedom to do as you please, but no idea about what to do with that freedom. Of course, you could always just stay with Krik and I, and help further research that just might help get you home...” Lore said expectantly. “Hey, I’m not some lab rat, alright? I’ll need some time to think about it at any rate, not like I’m going anywhere. How long am I gonna be here, anyway?” Tristan shot back. “Magical medicine being what it is these days I’d say...oh, another week or two. I suppose I’ll leave you to that, then. I’ll come by daily to check up on you. Other than that, farewell for now!” Lore said, leaving the room without paying any heed to Tristan as he called for him to wait. At least Lore hasn’t changed...asshole. Another week of being bored outta my skull, joy! I’ve gotta stop getting injured so often, this is getting annoying. Tristan mused for a while on his situation, thinking of possible things that he could do after leaving the hospital. The only thing he really thought would be interesting was learning how to use magic, the idea of which enthralled him. As he had no use of his limbs nor anything else to take up his time, he simply daydreamed and contemplated until sleep finally took him. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next few days were perhaps the most boring Tristan had ever known. Save for fleeting visits from Lore that never lasted more than ten minutes and checkups from various nurses and doctors he had absolutely nothing to do. Upon inquiry of why he wasn’t in the same room he had recovered in before, he was told that his injuries required observation and care that only a full hospital were able to give, as opposed to the more passive care from his previous wounds. It also seemed that his being there was currently a secret, at least until he was to be released, to keep other patients at ease. In addition to the incredible boredom that he was experiencing, his dreams were becoming more vivid and strange. Whereas he could usually only remember bits and pieces of dreams he had, he was able to fully recall what he dreamed every night, and it was always the same. Always the strange, deep voice influencing him, always to rise against the ponies that held so much sway over him. He wasn’t sure if it was simply resentment for his situation or repressed thoughts, but the dreams were getting to him. Six days passed like this, and he was told that he would finally be released from the hospital the next morning. His injuries had healed at last, and he wanted nothing more than to leave his bed. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Tristan awoke slowly, luxuriously stretching his limbs and cracking his joints. He didn’t know why but the bed felt much softer and more comfortable than it had any morning prior. After scratching a bothersome itch on his nose the realization finally stuck him - the cast was off, and he was wearing a new set of clothes, much like his old ones. Wait...they took the cast off...in my sleep? Can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing...damn magic. After blearily rubbing his eyes he looked to a table beside him and spied the cane he had used before, likely laid there by Lore’s command. He grabbed the cane and hoisted himself out of bed, enjoying the feeling of the cool tile floor beneath his feet. He tested his muscles to see if he could walk, and found that, with the help of the cane, he was able to without much difficulty. Medical magic...all the healing, and all the atrophy, in a fraction of the time. A good thing, too. My luck has never been all that great, but getting hospitalized twice in two months is just ridiculous. So, am I supposed to just walk right on out, no inspection or anything? Seems pretty odd. Eh, I’m just gonna wing it for once...I’ve gotta get out of this room, and never come back. He brashly flung open the door without another thought, knocking a passing nurse that he recognized as being one who had tended him previously to the ground in the process. “Oh, sorry!” Tristan said, bumbling around to help the nurse back up to her hooves. “No harm done, it was an accident after all...” she said, rubbing the nape of her neck gingerly with a hoof. At that moment another nurse whom Tristan hadn't met rushed to the side of the other and shot Tristan a downright hostile glare. “What did that spawn do to you? I told you he was trouble, who let him walk about on his own?” she questioned harshly to the other nurse. “Now, Ambrosia, it was an accident,” the nameless nurse shot back. “I think they’re expecting you up at the front, Tristan, was it? Just take a left at the end of the hallway and follow the stairs down, it’ll be right at the bottom,” she said, motioning with a hoof towards the hallway. “Oh, err, thanks! Sorry again,” Tristan responded, giving Ambrosia a confused look. He quickly followed the nurse’s directions, awkwardly navigating down the stairs with his cane, and came to a room lined with waiting ponies on the walls and with a large desk in the center. The receptionist caught Tristan’s eye and waved him over, to which he complied. As he hobbled towards the desk he couldn’t help but overhear the hushed whispers of all of the ponies, with a great deal of unkind words thrown into the mix. “Mr. Davis, I see you’re up and about. I apologise for the circumstances, but your caretaker requested that you see yourself out. Not quite sure why, but I don’t make the rules!” the receptionist said chipperly. “Should have figured it was Lore...so, I just, leave, then?” Tristan said haltingly. “No money, no directions, no anything, just out the doors?” “Well, you’re to be told to go to the castle as soon as you can if you’re willing, but other than that, you’re correct!” the receptionist replied, still unusually bright in her demeanor. “Well, err, thanks, I guess. I’ll just...be off, then?” Tristan said, confused. Lore didn’t say anything about any of this! Who the Hell sends someone who was bedridden for like two weeks out into a city they know nothing about filled with citizens that hate and fear them, all alone and without any direction? Jackass. Tristan let out a sigh and thanked the receptionist, turning around towards the large double doors of the hospital. He swept his gaze over the waiting ponies and found some mirth in how they all quieted down as he made eye contact with them. Letting out a small chuckle, he strode towards the door and out of the hospital. The bright sun of day was the first to greet him as he stepped outside, viciously assaulting his eyes. He took a moment to simply drink in the scene in front of him, amazed at pony society in full swing. Ponies of all types and colors were going about their daily rituals, buying, selling, chatting, and doing all sorts of things. He noticed that many of them wore clothes, as opposed to the norm he had known from Stalliongrad, and that the clothes seemed to be pretty fancy. More than anything, he was just glad to have a bit of freedom for once. A few ponies paid him heed with curt glances but none stopped to stare or speak to him, all electing to ignore him in the end instead. That worked just fine for Tristan, as he spied the castle in the distance and made his way towards it. You know what? Screw those ponies. I don’t care about what they think of me, so long as they’re not openly working against me. Let them think what they will...I’ve got better things to do than worry about them. Kinda. His progress was slow but unhampered by crowds. They seemed to be actively avoiding him, and parted in front of him, giving him a wide berth. He quickened his pace, becoming a little unnerved by the strangely uniform behavior of the ponies. Can’t say I blame ‘em...and I’m not complaining! These do look like snobby types though, even by pony standards. I guess this place is the capital, though, so it makes some sense that there would be a lot of those types... The walk was unexpectedly straightforward, as he soon found himself on a main road that seemed to lead up to the castle, which led off into numerous side streets. The entire time not a single pony greeted him, as they all looked on with disdain, indifference, fear, or even hatred. It was beginning to get to him a little, but he didn’t have much time to ruminate on the issue as he found himself at a checkpoint at the entrance to the castle grounds. Two pegasi guards immediately flew into his path, blocking his entry. “Halt! Our orders are to see you to the castle if you wish to enter, but you are not allowed entrance alone. Do you accept these terms?” one of the guards questioned in what Tristan was sure was his best impression of an authoritative voice. “Yeah, sure, why not? Just take me to Lore, will you?” Tristan responded, somewhat numb to the idea of being escorted around everywhere by now. He had a fleeting yearning for his days at home where he was truly free, but turned his thoughts to other matters to keep himself on task. With that the guards gave him a nod and arranged themselves behind and in front of him, forming a mock convoy. Tristan didn’t have time to admire the scenery or the like as he approached the imposing castle, as the guards kept a brisk pace. Eventually they led him inside, through several hallways, and into an all too familiar room. “Wait here, Mr. Lore will be by shortly to see to you,” one of the guards said sharply, at which they both turned tail and left him. Tristan looked around the room to see that it hadn’t changed a bit since his last internment there, and spotting his gear from the foray into the forest lying in the corner. You had this all planned out, didn’t you Lore? Bah, I suppose it’s not like I had any better options...I wonder if I’ll be seeing Nightingale again? Tristan took a seat on the bed to ease his already aching legs as he waited for Lore. Sure enough, the door soon opened to reveal the stallion in question. “So you did decide to come back, excellent!” Lore exclaimed in a tone that Tristan couldn’t place as sarcasm or serious. “Yeah yeah, it’s not like I had anything else to do. So, what’s the deal? Why would you have me walk through a city I’ve never been through alone right after having like, half of my bones broken? That doesn’t make any sense!” Tristan said, the aggravation showing easily in his voice. “Oh don’t be so cross about it. You got here fine, didn’t you?” Lore began, at which Tristan shot him a venomous glare. “There was a reason for that, you know. You have your freedom now, and you would have likely have wanted to leave had I prepared you, would you have not?” he continued, as Tristan sat silent. “Quite. I take it the ponies you passed by on your way here weren’t particularly accepting, were they? I merely wanted to show you that the best course of action was to remain under my watchful eye, nothing more. Can you disagree?” Lore finished smugly. “Listen here, buddy. I’ve just about had it with this crap,” Tristan began indignantly, rising to his feet. “I am not just some toy, or some object to be manipulated, you hear me? If you’re going to act like that then I don’t care what’s best for me, I’ll leave despite that! So either you’re going to start treating me like a person, or I’m outta here!” he finished, flailing his cane into the air at the end for emphasis. Lore looked rather taken aback at the display, and actually hung his head down in what could have been shame. “Y-yes, you’re correct...” he stammered, shame obvious in his voice. “...What?” Tristan asked in disbelief. “I’m sorry, I’ve been told my social skills and tact can be a bit...lacking. It’s just that you really would be happier staying here, and I just wanted to ensure that you would make the right choice. If I make an honest effort to treat you more like an equal, you will stay to help further my studies, though? And help find a way to get you home, of course,” Lore responded sadly. Woah, what the Hell is this? Is he leading me on? Or is this actually for real? An apologetic...Lore? On one hand he’s still been an asshole, but on the other, this really is my best bet...and if he’s not just faking this, there may be some hope for the guy yet. “Alright, alright! You’re kinda creeping me out with that sudden change though, ease up on the emotions! I’ll stick with you for awhile at least,” Tristan finally said, rapidly becoming uncomfortable with the situation. “Ah, excellent!” Lore said, cheering up immediately and earning some more apprehension from Tristan. “I doubt you’ll regret the decision, truly. There is one matter that needs your attention, however...” he trailed off, looking hesitant. “Something that needs my attention, eh? I really don’t know what that might be, but lay it on me,” Tristan urged Lore on. “Well, it’s Krik. He’s been talking about some strange dreams lately, but he refuses to tell me what they’re about. Oddly enough, he requested that he could talk to you about them,” Lore said. ...Strange...dreams? Crap.