//------------------------------//
// Paths Crossing 
// Story: Stolen Chaos 
// by MoeYuseta 
//------------------------------//

Discord felt himself awakened by something cold splashing against his battered body in a soft rhythm. Something cold and wet, something that still washed over him, matting down his fur, causing mud to clot up on his side. Moaning, he rolled his head to the side, wincing from the pain. His entire body ached, not counting the sharp pains still radiating from his bite wounds and a new source... his wing?

He shuts his eyes even tighter, gritting his teeth at the realization. He wouldn't be surprised if he hurt it somehow from the impact with the water. What hurt worse was his ego. That was what was really painful.

He was outdone by tiny little Changelings.

He drags out his lions paw, making drag marks against the soft most dirt, firmly planting it against the ground. He wasn't going to recover very quickly with half his body in the river- it was a miracle even washed up at all. "Oh sweet Celestia help me," He muttered as he pushed himself off the ground. This would be so much easier if he could float, or fly, but complaining would do him no good here. "I think I preferred being frozen..."

Grunting, he drags himself out the water, clawing at tree for support. He was soaking wet and there was a chill in the air- the sun was going down. How long was he out? How long has it been since he was 'freed'? It didn't help that his concept of time was complete garbage now.

But everything was going to be fine now. He was free wasn't he? And while he and Celestia may not be on what you would call 'speaking terms', he knew she wouldn't be so cold hearted as to turn away a poor injured draconequus. She certainly would lay the law down on that nasty queen, and get those little ponies of hers to turn her into stone or something.

Oh how satisfying that'd be!

He paused, thinking that over. No... No it wouldn't be satisfying at all. He still had his pride. He needed help, yes, but he wouldn't stand having someone else fight his battles. 

But for now, he needed to lick his wounds.

Wincing, he limped his way a dry patch of leaves, clasping his neck. It did nothing to ease the pain. "Painful...agh, annoyance!" He grunted. How was it still hurting like this? He debated on returning to the river, the cold at least numbed it, and now it just felt like it caught on fire again. "I bet she infected me! The witch!" His voice hit a painful high pitched tone when he whined. 

Bitterly, he lets go, and already knowing it couldn't work, he started to snap his fingers.

He tried to poof himself back to Canterlot.

Or Ponyville.

Or to heal himself. Shrink himself. Make himself bigger.

"...Nothing." Powerless. Lost. Hurt. What a wonderful evening this was. "Not even a simple levitation? A spark? A wisp of smoke?" He curled into himself. This wasn't even annoying anymore. It was... frightening? He didn't think there could be such a thing that could suck the very magical energy out of you, and the mere thought of it never coming back was horrible. Magic was in a sense, a part of he was. Or really, what he was. Without that, what was he?

A monstrous creature, injured by the bank side.

"Not that I feel sorry for myself or anything," he muttered bitterly. No, this was just a hiccup. A bump in the road. He didn't know how but he'd find some way to get what was his back. And he didn't need help, why did that thought even cross his mind?

Honestly, now thinking more clearly? Celestia would just encase him in stone again without giving him a chance. He shuddered at the thought. 'What a horrible disaster that would be,' he thought to himself, trying to soak up what was left of the sun. 'I cannot let that happen- what happens if I was freed again? There would be no point, not without being able to spread my chaos.'

Now there was a depressing thought.

'...Not that my entire self-worth depends on my magic.'

Better.

He reaches up to his wing- and sure enough it was still tied up. The ropes dug in slightly, but he was able to cut through it easily enough, feeling a bit of relief as the blood started to run through it. It was a funny, prickly sensation as he started to regain feeling in his feathered wing. He didn't even want to look at the mangled mess that was his bat wing, but considering how he couldn't even move it now...

"...So I said oatmeal? You crazy!"

"Pinkie you already told that story."

"....What." His head tilts up. Was he hearing voices now? 

The last few flakes of sunlight disappears over the horizon, leaving him in the dark. He stills himself, listening to the mindless chatter of familiar voices- but it wasn't possible. This was as deep into the Everfree you cold get before you popped onto the other side- why would silly little ponies from Ponyville be doing here? He presses himself onto the dirt, flicking his ears.

"This clearing is as good as any... We should of stopped sooner before it got dark."

"Why couldn't we stay on the tracks? Now my hooves are all muddy!"

"I didn't expect for the tracks to be blocked so early on Rarity, come on and help Pinkie with the tent."

There was a bright light, likely from a unicorns horn. "...Twilight Sparkle."

Of course she'd be here.