PonyScape: Where the Heart is
Chapter 2 - A Heart to Heart
Despite the fact his skull was ringing like a church bell during an Essianday service, Aliks did his best to follow the retreating footsteps of his Trusty Companion and, just ahead of those, the person responsible for said ringing skull. Hiding behind the door; oldest trick in the book. Still, it had paid off. If Cres hadn’t warned him he’d most likely be kipping on the floor… or worse.
He stubbed his toe on something and cursed; while the distant bobbing of Cres’ light was dispelling some of the dark in this place, his eyes had yet to adjust. Ignoring the throbbing protests from above and now below, he strained his hearing and headed in what he hoped was the right way; his sense of direction wasn’t the best, he’d be the first to admit, and oddly being assaulted by a heavy book didn’t help. Neither did the fact that, in all likelihood, this was his assailant’s home turf; they’d been living in this dark place for who knew how long and could easily run circles around him. They could already have doubled back and out, assuming there was only one door to this place; they could have bolted through some backdoor, leaving him to chase ghosts in this blasted labyrinth.
He turned sharply, his sandals scrabbling for purchase on the flagstones, and jogged down another aisle of shelves. Just how big was this library? Considering how far he’d run, maybe big enough to hold an entire civilisation’s worth of literature. He’d just have to ask his new friend about it.
“Aliksandar! Cresbot-has-the-target-cornered!”
The mage skidded to a halt, grabbing hold of a bookcase to steady himself. Peering into the gloom, he could see Cresbot standing a few metres away at the mouth of another aisle of shelves, doing its best to appear menacing. Taking a few moments to catch his breath, and straighten his robes, Aliks approached his Trusty Companion.
“Good job, Cres,” he congratulated the little robot, who beamed with pride, “Now,” he drew his wand and peered into the gloom, “Let’s have a better look at our friend, shall we?”
Cres’ light beam cut through the dark between the bookshelves and illuminated the form of his assailant, who slumped to the floor and hid their face when the light hit them. He cocked an eyebrow at the strange, bedraggled creature; it looked like nothing he’d ever seen before. Its hair was lank and matted and the arms with which it hugged its knees were almost skeletal; he was amazed it had been able to run for so long when so undernourished. Its skin was unnaturally pale and grubby, stretched almost to breaking point across fragile looking bones, and it was garbed in what looked like some shabby gown or robe. What surprised him most though was that its legs ended with hooves instead of feet. Was this some breed of demon? He shook his head at the notion; demons didn’t skulk behind doors or run from confrontation.
What was this thing?
“Any thoughts, Cres?”
“This-creature-does-not-match-any-entry-in-Cresbots’-bestiary.”
The mage eyed the shivering wreck; it was clearly cold or frightened, more likely both.
“Well,” he sighed, “Only one way to find out I suppose.”
“Cresbot-recommends-Aliksandar-immobilise-the-creature-before-approaching: It-could-still-be-dangerous.”
Aliks shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.
“While I appreciate that you’ve been spending more time with Ayla, Cres, even she’d recognise this thing’s in no condition to fight.”
“Cresbot-makes-no-apologies-for-ensuring-Aliksandar’s-safety.”
Not wanting to cause further alarm, Aliks sheathed his wand and slowly edged his way towards the cringing ball at the far end of the shelves. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was going to do. He could try introducing himself, but then again there was no telling if this thing would understand him; a friendly introduction could be mistaken as a threat. Heck, for all he knew this thing probably thought he wanted to eat it.
Eat…
A grin spread across Aliks’ face. He’d had an idea; he still had the apple from earlier so maybe, just maybe, he could convince this odd thing that he really had no interest in doing it harm. His grin widened; sometimes he impressed even himself.
As he drew nearer he was able to make out more of the creatures characteristics; for a start, what he’d assumed to be skin was in fact very fine and pale fur, marred with dirt and other unspeakable grime. Clearly whatever water was available down here was reserved exclusively for drinking, as the smell emanating from the creature attested. Trying his hardest not to gag, the mage brought the half-eaten fruit from out of his pocket and placed it at the thing’s hooves. He quickly backed to a respectable distance to where the air wasn’t quite so… solid.
Now all they could do was wait.
It didn’t take long for the creature to stir. It looked up from its foetal position and regarded the mage with terrified incomprehension. Aliks was taken aback; not by the alien proportions of its face that matched the skulls he’d exhumed earlier, nor by the presence of the spiralled horn protruding from its forehead (which explained the indentations on the skulls). What took his breath away was how gaunt and sunken this pitiful creature’s face was; the only difference between it and the skulls was that it was still alive. Somehow that made it worse.
Remembering his plan and trying not to stare, he pointed dramatically at the apple by its hooves. The creature looked at the fruit as though it might explode and then regarded him with suspicion, before tentatively reaching out and taking hold. Aliks gave what he hoped was an encouraging grin and nodded enthusiastically, and mimed chewing for good measure. The creature gave him a wary look, but finished off the apple regardless.
Aliks looked down to his Trusty Companion and grinned. “There you go,” he declared, gesturing to the chewing creature, “We’ve made progress and without having to restrain anyone!”
Cresbot gave the mechanical equivalent of a sigh and fixed the human with a despairing W.
“Cresbot-is-impressed-with-Aliksandar’s-conduct. However-this-does-not-solve-Aliksandar-and-Cresbot’s-primary-issue.”
The grin vanished. The bot was right; they were no closer to finding a way to repower the fairy ring, or the mysterious foe who had engineered their arrival here. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and kicked at the floor despondently. His gaze drifted over to his new friend, who had long since finished the apple and was now subjecting him to the most invasive gaze he’d ever encountered. Its large eyes were moving across his body, examining everything; he felt as if his very soul was being studied for imperfections and judged out of ten on that basis. Needless to say the soul-piercing scrutiny was incredibly unsettling; what was truly disturbing, however, was when its line of sight gravitated and lingered below his midriff. Resisting the urge to pull his cloak around him, he turned his attention back to Cresbot.
“Well, we could always try asking for help.” He suggested, gesturing at the far end of the shelves.
“Does-Aliksandar-believe-this-organic-capable-of-communication?”
The mage shrugged, “Honestly? I don’t know. But we won’t know unless we try, right?”
“No-data-available.”
All things considered, that was probably the best he was going to get. He returned his attention to the aisle’s other occupant at, who was still staring at him. Off-putting as it was, Aliks could forgive it; who knew how long this poor creature had been alone down here? How long had it been since it had seen another one of its own kind, let alone a human; he was probably the most fascinating thing to have happened since Guthix-knew-when…
This wasn’t helping.
He needed to focus.
There had to be some way for him to communicate the emergency of the situation to this being; Pictograms? Mime? Interpretive dance? It was clearly intelligent but then again (by some stretch of the definition) so were goblins. A movement at the end of the aisle drew him out of his musings; it was getting up.
Well, if he was trying to make a good impression he might as well be a gentleman.
Leaving Cresbot to sputter warnings, Aliks walked to the end of the aisle, remembering to breathe through his mouth this time, and offered his hand to the struggling creature. It flinched away, eyes screwed tight as it pressed itself against the wall, as if the proffered appendage had teeth.
The mage sighed inwardly.
This was going to be fun…
Stardust’s mind was racing; not the frantic, adrenaline pumping thoughts of a mare running for her life, but those of any rational pony confronted by what was obviously an entirely new species.
The creature seemed to be locked in some sort of debate with its shorter counterpart, leaving her free to study the strange creature in greater detail. Its anatomy suggested that it was some breed of ape, though it looked nothing like the pictures in the books she’d idly read some months past; biology was not her forte. Still, anatomy aside, she found her gaze inevitably drawn back to the mark on its belt. It had to be a coincidence. The Green Stallion was a myth; an old mare’s tale, one of, if not the oldest, designed to tell little foals not to be too proud, else they’d miss what was right in front of them. While the titular character’s appearance varied with who was telling the tale, the one constant was his cutie mark: a single cyan dewdrop; the same mark that adorned Fnip’s belt.
Stardust reached a decision; the question of whether this was the mythological figure in some form of disguise, or just a very cultured and coincidental ape could wait. Mother had been expecting somepony, and if this creature was her guest, then she’d delayed it long enough. She started to get up, and cursed as her legs buckled under her; the remains of the apple had helped, but she was still dangerously fatigued. Leaning on the wall for support, the mare tried again.
fnip-fnap-fnip-fnap
Stardust looked up at the ape’s approach. Tant was squawking at it from the aisles mouth, but it ignored it. The mare froze; had she been wrong after all? Was this clothed ape going to kill her? It reached out towards her. She flinched away, unable to do anything other than shut her eyes and press herself against the cold stone of the wall, willing it to absorb her. The seconds ticked by. After about half a minute, Stardust risked opening an eye. The bipedal ape was standing about a metre from her, hand still outstretched and a look of, what she first assumed was exasperation but quickly recognised as confusion on its strange, flat face.
Realisation dawned.
It wanted to help her up.
Tentatively, she reached out her own hand towards the offered appendage; the ape’s grip was firm, but gentle. It grunted softly as it helped her to her hooves, letting go only after it was certain she could stand unaided.
“Um… thank you?” she offered.
The thing gave her a bemused look and gave an apologetic gargle in response. Okay, so speaking wasn’t going to work. Perhaps body language would? She tried inclining her head towards it. The gesture seemed to register, and the ape inclined its head in return, a large grin on its face. It turned its attention to the small creature that trailed after it and barked what she could only assume was an order.
The strange thing chirped, and scuttled closer. Now Stardust could tell where the intense light from earlier had come from; the little creature’s triangular head was glowing. It stared up at her, the light from its head radiating from a narrow slit. The shape put Stardust in mind of how foals drew birds in flight. Unsure of what else to do, she inclined her head towards it as well, and gasped as the light-slit morphed into a line of dots. The shape morphed again and was replaced by a shoe-shape like arc, as it inclined its tiny head back.
Fnip laughed as the little creature scrambled up its leg and came to rest on its shoulders, peering over at her with its shoe-shaped “eye”. What a curious thing it was; it looked like a foal’s toy, yet by the way it moved was clearly alive. It must be magical, she concluded.
Struck with the recollection of what she was meant to be doing, Stardust took a firm grip of the ape’s hand, and started walking out of the aisle and back into the labyrinthine library. Seeming content for her to lead the way, Fnip made no sound of protest. She was grateful for the light its companion’s “head-light” provided; regardless of whether it was home or not, nopony liked to be left fumbling in the dark. It didn’t take long for them to reach the reading area at the Grand Library’s entrance. Pausing only to extinguish and pocket the candle that was still burning merrily on the desk and make certain that the book hadn’t been caught in the waxy puddle, Stardust resumed leading her strange companions through the draughty corridors towards their final destination.
The Vault.
As the bizarre trio progressed, Stardust couldn’t help but smile at the low cooing noises her companion was making; clearly it was impressed at the Sanctum’s architecture. She wondered vaguely what it was used to, and passed the journey with visions of straw roofed mud huts akin to those the very first equine had built to shelter from the untamed weather. Her daydreams were cut short by a gasp of wonder from Fnip.
She looked up.
They were here.
The great iron doors loomed high above them, bars frozen in place and rusted shut from the years of neglect. She glanced at her companions and tried very hard to supress a snort of laughter; Fnip’s mouth gaped wide and its eyes boggled at the sight before them, even Tant’s “eye” had morphed into a wide circle of light. Composing herself, Stardust went to knock on the iron behemoth with her free hand, and paused, struck by a rather absurd thought.
How was she meant to introduce this visitor?
She could hardly introduce it as “Fnip” as she’d mentally dubbed it, and didn’t want to panic Mother by telling her that an alien had dropped by to say “hello” either. Then again she didn’t want to raise Mother’s hopes by introducing this well-dressed ape as The Green Stallion either. An idea struck her; she knew of a way to rule out The Green Stallion theory, at the very least.
The one constant.
Letting go of the ape’s hand, she turned around. It greeted her with a look of polite curiosity. Not bothering with the vocal approach this time, the unicorn plunged straight into the physical realm. She pointed first at the symbol on its belt, and then to its flank, where a pony’s cutie mark would be. She fixed the ape with what she hoped was her most questioning look and waited for a response.
It scratched at the hair under its jaw and garbled incomprehensibly.
Sighing inwardly, Stardust repeated the gesture, putting a little bit more emphasis behind her gestures. Again, she was met with incomprehension.
Making no effort to hide her frustration at the creature’s inability to understand what was meant to be a very simple question, she decided to cut out the middlemare and show the dumb ape what she meant. Bending down the grabbing the hem of her robe in one hand, she started pulling it up, only to be interrupted by an unintelligible spluttering. She looked up to see Fnip’s face had darkened in colour and had contorted into an uncomfortable grimace. She cocked an eyebrow in bemusement as the truth dawned; it was blushing.
Well, she thought, if prudery wasn’t a sign of intelligence, she didn’t know what was.
Smirking to herself, she pulled the robe to her waist, and with her free hand, pointed vigorously to the large six-pointed star that adorned her flank; her cutie mark, the icon that symbolised not only her talents with the mystic arts, but also marked her as one of Mother’s chosen Daughters. She let her gaze linger, enjoying the fond memories the mark held, before looking back to Fnip, and gesturing enquiringly at it. She scowled, and her tail, free from the confines of her robe, flicked in agitation; Fnip was making a point of looking at anything other than her now semi-exposed lower body. She snapped her fingers irritably to try and draw its attention back to her flank; its eyes reluctantly swivelled to the source of the noise, briefly acknowledged what was there and quickly away again.
Deciding she’d tormented the prudish creature enough, Stardust let her robe fall to the ground again, and cleared her throat, letting it know that it was safe to look. Once she was certain that she had its attention, she repeated her question. Comprehension flashed in its eyes. Pointing to its belt and then its hip, the ape made a series of wild hand gestures and shook its head vigorously. She had to admit, a little bit of the excitement that had been steadily building died then; this wasn’t The Green Stallion after all. It had just been coincidence, or her subconsciously seeing the icon where it wasn’t.
Still, curiosity persisted; if the mark on the belt wasn’t this thing’s cutie mark, then what was it?
Her query got the same response of wild gestures and shakes. She wasn’t sure what to make of it; was this thing so prudish that it didn’t want to show off something so natural? It was possible, given its earlier reaction. Still, she wanted answers, and she reached out and tugged at the ape’s robe gently. It jumped as if stung and swatted her hand in response, frowning warily at her. She persisted through its discomfort and tugged again until its shoulders slumped in resignation. Grumbling incoherently, it bent down quickly and grabbed its robes, causing its passenger to gibber in alarm as it was nearly dislodged, and pulled them up to its waist quickly before letting them drop again.
Now Stardust understood the reluctance; there was nothing there. Just a bare patch of skin. Also, she now felt fairly confident in assuming that Fnip was male; the low voice and hair growing around its mouth and down its neck had suggested as such, what was between his legs pretty much confirmed it.
Curiosity sated, and feeling slightly guilty at what she’d put the poor blank-flank through, she reached up and rapped on the iron doors. She took hold of Fnip’s hand again in preparation; noticing he was slightly more reluctant this time.
“Mother?” she called, “Its Star. Sorry to disturb you again, but I’ve brought a… a friend to meet you. May we come in?”
Almost immediately, she felt the familiar sensations of teleporting, and the world changed around her. She looked to her right, wondering just what Fnip’s reaction would be: Would he be surprised? Afraid? Or entertained? Considering he’d let go of her hand, she was willing to bet a mixture of all.
She was shocked, however, to find herself addressing empty air.
Fnip had vanished!
“Just when you think life can’t get any more awkward,” the mage sighed, staring first at his now empty hand and then at the great iron portal, “It throws a gnomeball at you, eh Cres?”
“ERROR: No-data-available!”
Aliks didn’t need his Trusty Companion to explain this one; someone had tried to teleport them and, while it had moved one of them, their spell had “splashed” on him. It was embarrassing, but it happened to even the most senior and formidable of wizards; it was more life threatening in combat scenarios, but every other time it was cause for awkward silences and shuffling feet.
Despite how well they’d been getting along at first, with the whole leading him out of the library thing, he was now rather glad to be away from the crazy-tattooed-horse-woman, (the absence of certain parts had cleared up that little mystery), and he was eternally grateful to any higher power present that Ayla would never know about this; he knew that she’d never buy the idea of him flashing against his will.
He felt a charge run through his body, and a brief moment of motion-sickness; they were trying again. Quick as it came though, it faded just as fast; whoever was on the other side was having a really bad run of luck.
Suspicion reared its ugly head.
Or, they were using a breed of magic which he had been rendered immune to years ago.
His wand was in his hand in a flash, not that it’d do him much good if his suspicions paid off. Still, it was better than nothing.
One didn’t challenge a Young God with fists alone.
“WARNING: Aliksandar-your-heart-rate-has-increased-exponentially!” came a worried voice from his shoulder, “What-is-the-matter?”
He was about to answer when a horrendous squeal of tortured metal assaulted his ears. His wand fell to the floor as he clasped his hands to the sides of his head in a vain attempt to block out the auditory assault.
What the heck was happening?
Looking up, his question was answered, and his mouth dropped open in awe. Slowly, fighting against the rust of decades and shattering the ice that had frozen it in place, the great iron doors were slowly swinging outward. A hail of ice and rust rained down around him, forcing the mage to throw himself the floor, and curl as tightly as he could manage. After what seemed like an eternity, all was silent again, apart from the ringing in his ears and the occasional plink of falling ice. Looking up from his prone position, he could see Star-flank standing in the open doorway, looking equal parts amazed and horrified at what had just happened, massaging her ears. She looked at him quizzically, and a guilty expression decided to camp on his face.
Getting to his feet and brushing himself down, he gave an apologetic grin.
“Sorry,” he laughed nervously, “My fault.”
Before she could respond, there was a flash of blue light from the dark beyond. She turned around and spoke something unintelligible, before turning back to the sheepish mage and motioning him to follow her. Retrieving his fallen wand and keeping it to hand, Aliks edged forwards cautiously. The room beyond the iron behemoths had an odd bluish tint to it; it made his spine tingle in all the wrong ways. Star-flank motioned for him to hurry up, and waited for him beyond the portal’s threshold.
Aliks got the feeling that if he wanted the answers he needed, then he had very little choice other than to follow.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, there was a deafening crash as the doors thundered shut behind him. Well, there was no backing out now.
At least the room wasn’t in total darkness; there was a faint blue glow emanating from the… well, the thing at the room’s centre. A flare of phosphorous light left purple and green blotches dancing across his vision as Star-flank relit the candle she’d pocketed earlier; he didn’t even see where she’d put the matches. Reaching out, she took hold of his unresisting hand, and pulled him gently towards the centre of the room.
The light from the candle did very little to dispel the gloom around them, and was vaguely tempted to have Cres light their way, but reconsidered; he’d caused his guide enough grief over the past hour and didn’t really want to offend her further. A tell-tale rapping from under foot and a vague sense of nausea suggested that they were on some kind of metal catwalk suspended above a pit of some kind. He instinctively drew closer to his guide, crazy-tattooed-horse-woman or not, and tightened his grip. He wondered what was lurking down there in the abyss; probably just dust and bones of those who’d let their curiosity trump their self-preservation. He shivered at the thought, and focused his attention on the soft blue glow ahead; it was drawing nearer.
After what seemed like an age of walking, the trio finally reached the centre of the cavernous chamber. Now Aliks could clearly see the object that had been bathing the room in soft blue light; it was a large heart-shaped gem, seemingly suspended in mid-air and humming softly. Aliks mouth gaped; it was without doubt one of the most beautiful things he’d ever laid eyes on; Ayla’s description of the fantastic Kharid-Ib diamond seemed like a cheap knock off compared to this beauty. It was the most, well… real thing he’d ever seen.
His sixth sense, which he’d dubbed “World Guardian sense”, stood up and screamed at him; this was powerful Elder Magick, the raw reality bending alpha and omega stuff of creation and destruction. The one thing he should absolutely, definitely, never-ever-do was touch the thing!
All these warnings went unheeded as Star-flank took his unresisting hand and placed it open-palm on the heart-gem’s surface.
Aliks world exploded.
His veins both burned and froze as though ice and fire coursed through them; his head felt like it was being beaten by a lead club; power and knowledge surged through him; one instant he knew everything, the mysteries of the multi-verse unravelled, but before he could focus on anything, it was violently ripped away from him; he opened his mouth to scream, but no noise would come; he felt as though he was falling though infinity, but at the same time standing on the sturdiest ground possible; all six of his senses screamed at him and then, blissfully, went numb.
He was left …standing…falling… floating in limbo.
...
…
...
Flash
An image sped past his eyes, gone before he could register anything.
It was quickly replaced by another, then another, and then another.
Each one was ripped away and swallowed by the white nothingness before he could really understand what it was that he was seeing, but somehow the knowledge, the memory, registered calmly in his mind.
Flash
A group of horse-like creatures walking on all-fours as nature intended; nature was only capable of so much on its own.
Flash
The same group, only now they were bipedal, their fore-hooves transformed into dextrous fingers and thumbs. Aliks looked at the sight and felt content; they could accomplish so much more now!
Flash
A collection of winged horse-creatures staring down at him, their expressions thunderous; he knew full well what he’d done and wasn’t ashamed to admit it!
Flash
A vast and empty cave system, isolated from the rest of the world; this would suffice. Here he would watch over them, teach them, guide them towards their true potential!
Flash
Flash
Flash
Flash
The images came faster and faster, blurring into a kaleidoscope of shapes, colours and emotions; each memory was calmly filed away in his brain for later.
Flash
Rather than a static image this time, Aliks found himself in a world of grey shadows; something told him that this memory wasn’t a fond one, judging by how vague it was. Voices whispered in the greyness.
Aliks strained his hearing, uncertain as to why, but desperate to know what made this memory so terrible.
“…certain that this will work?” the voice seemed to ask. Its tone was cautious but well spoken, and he guessed from the pitch that it was a woman doing the asking; he was put in mind of his female tutors in the Tower.
Straining again, he heard another voice that made him shiver.
“Oh, absolutely!” the voice wheedled, “I can guarantee that these are just the guys to solve your little problem, my dear.”
He heard a voice like this before; to a voice like this, life was just a game. It didn’t matter what happened to the pieces in the end just so long as it had fun.
The voices seemed to get fainter, the words inaudible no matter how hard he strained his ears. Suddenly the sound came back; winds roared and howled, an icy presence passed over him and suddenly he knew what cold truly was. But what truly froze his blood was the triumphant laughter that echoed above it all; not the cruel laughter of the villain victorious, but the merry chortle of a trickster triumphant!
A name escaped Aliks’ mouth as the grey was swallowed by the white once more.
“SLISKE!”
The air was forced from his lungs as he hit the ground. Or whatever this white oblivion was.
He pushed himself up on… nothingness, and looked around at… more nothingness.
Oh, he knew where he was now; he’d been here before. It was still just as depressingly blank as it had been then.
This was the threshold of his Mind.
Despite being a mental projection, he straightened and dusted down his robes.
“What on ‘Scape was that?” he wondered aloud.
“My greatest mistake.”
The mage spun on his heel. Behind him was a horned creature not unlike Star-flank, although the horn and clearly being female was where the similarities ended.
This one was better fed and dressed in flowing white robes that matched the colour of her glowing fur. Her mane and tail shone like the sun and flowed ethereally. Both were a rich red that seemed to change shades as it rippled in the non-existent wind; one moment it was auburn, the next blood-red, then a glossy ruby. The creature smiled benignly at the mage, and unfurled an impressive set of wings, whose feathers held the same warm, white glow of the fur.
“I know you,” was all he could manage to say.
The Alicorn laughed softly.
“Indeed,” she politely inclined her head towards him, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, World Guardian. I am your mysterious foe, but you may choose to refer to me as Faust if you wish.”
She blinked her large eyes at him, sorrow and regret passing over her face before she forced a smile once more.
“I believe it is time you and I had a little heart to heart.”