//------------------------------// // Bell chimes // Story: Foal Necromancer: Soul's Rebirth // by Bold Promise //------------------------------// I wish I could say that my truth spell uncovered some as-of-yet unknown facet to him which absolved him of his very real potential to harm others. I did not, however I had found something else. Something deeper. He held resentment in his heart, but not just. He recognized what was wrong with his world, and tried to do better. He recognized why he was wronged, and tried to isolate himself from the cause, he did try to do better on his own. He still posed no less of a potential danger than what my sister and I had first recognized in him, but I found I was mistaken in my perception of him. He was not some sick beast that needed to be pacified; he was far more than just some reiteration of my own Nightmare; he was a man who persevered, even now. I told him before, but only now did I truly understand it myself. He had drowned, but now he was safe. I didn’t react the way I did because I was saddened by his confessions, per se. In all honesty, it was all merely a matter of perspective. First off, such tragedy simply does not happen in our world. It was something which I was still having trouble coming to grips with. And yet, the fact remained that for so very long, to his very last breath, he struggled against his fellow humans, and they did not stop until they forced one last death out of him. He alienated himself from them, and they sought out his own end, for what? Was it truly because of his magic, or was it because he dared to reject their 'justice'? Because he defied their own corrupt order? His society was so much worse than our own to such a drastic degree that, it just broke my heart. It was just now settling in for me that perhaps his craft was much less out of place in his world than I had initially thought. Soul-eating monsters and mad undead were the least of his worries. There were worse still than that, and as a result, his peers were living in fear to the point that instead of being encouraged to enforce their community, they merely focused on putting as many bodies between themselves and any sort of danger or insecurity as possible. Their peers’ bodies. To what precise extent, I did not know, but it definitely appeared that they were too busy to actually seek out enlightenment and personal growth in any manner, instead pursuing becoming as loud and aggressive apes as possible. Such a society was simply inequine… but that was all that he had at his disposal. I shuddered to consider what he expected to find of our kingdom this day. No wonder he was not satisfied with his findings and wanted to inspect other cities beside Canterlot. That was why I cried. Not for a single tragic life, but for an entire tragic world... and for my own mistaken assumptions of the treasure within my care. Right now, he tried. He might’ve not turned out unblemished as a result of his life thus far, but he was still trying to understand something contradictory to his nature, to his being. He might’ve not been the child I wanted, but he still sought to understand something which wasn’t making any sense to him, in spite of how it made no sense to him. He was trying to understand, well, me. And it was hard for him, but he still tried. It was painful for him, maddening for him, it spit in the face of everything he built himself upon, but he. Still. Tried. He could’ve most certainly come out much, much worse than he did. I did not know what he went through, and I doubted I would know even if he were to recite his entire life to me. Still, that wouldn’t stop me from trying, especially not now when I finally knew that my words and actions really did have an effect on him. After all, maybe that was all he really needed. For someone to try to understand him as well. Here in the square of Canterlot, I held my son. I did not stay that way long enough, however, as something decided to impose a rude interruption. I was not paying attention to my surroundings, and didn’t notice the commotion my subjects were causing until moments before I felt an impact upon my side, throwing me into a merchant’s stand a few strides away (*). I felt my disguise flicker from the impacts, but I regained my focus quickly enough once I recovered my senses amidst the debris of the stand. It was a lapse in concentration, but I doubt anyone noticed my true identity. After all, I wouldn't allow for the day I planned to spend with my child to be canceled because of this fiend. As I recovered from the crash, I first took stock of myself and my charge. “Are you alright?” “I’m… fine,” he offered with a notable amount of reservation, seemingly distracted somewhat. Not feeling anything broken, I focused my attention to the hissing monster glaring at us. It was a large creature, perhaps three times my real size, a cross between a lizard and a bird. Leathery wings with long scales arranged like feathers, ending with long, hooked claws, sharp enough to leave shallow cuts as it dragged them across the hard marble in an effort at intimidation. It seemed completely capable of balancing itself on its hindlegs however. A long beak full of serrated teeth, with multiple long, tentacle-like tongues within. And a single eye betraying simple, beastial aggression. “You let your guard down. That’s why it attacked.” I was more concerned with focusing on the beast in front of me than responding. However, before I even gathered the presence of mind to decide to use an offensive spell, the creature faded out of vision. I looked around in surprise and trepidation, not finding the creature anywhere, however I still heard its hissing and scratching on the marble, and could make out the places where he'd disturb the few stretches of remaining snow. It was circling me, indeed looking for another opening. “You do know Snallighasts can turn invisible, right?” “Don’t you mean Snallygasters?” I baited. “Careful!” My charge’s warning wasn’t necessary in the slightest. This beast was clearly deadly in its speed and arsenal, which were more than enough to hunt a manticore. However, I had stronger protection than even the natural king of the hunt, and more than enough magical ability to make this encounter into a farce. I was actually surprised that its opening strike hurt me so very little. As the beast rushed at my perceived blind spot, I turned toward the noise it was making and blasted it away with a simple concussive spell, knocking it out of its cloaking field. It bounced a few times, then it stopped, remaining still. “I think you might’ve killed it,” my charge’s voice went, chilling the blood in my veins. “What?!” I rushed towards the creature, my charge still held against my chest, past a stallion who approached us in order to ask if we were not harmed ourselves, then I regarded the beast. It was still breathing, however there was a trickle of blood coming from its head. My charge commented, “Its skull is fractured. It doesn’t seem to be dead, however.” “I didn’t hit it that hard!” “The fact that you almost killed it says otherwise.” I wanted to say something else, however he patted me on the place where I was hit and continued with, “Exactly how durable are you?” I was interrupted again, this time by a pegasus guard who arrived at the scene. “Ma’am? Are you and your colt okay?” Two of his colleagues approached soon afterwards, landing on either side of the fallen creature, carefully. Apparently they had enough sense to treat this situation as the adequate threat it… was supposed to be. “We’re fine. Just a little startled, is all…” “You sure?” the guard checked. “That was quite the impact you both went through.” “I would be more concerned with that… beast, if I were you. I seem to have reacted a bit strongly.” ‘Which is to say, for whatever reason, it is far weaker than it’s supposed to be.’ “Don’t worry, I don’t think anypony would judge a mother for reacting to a threat to her child.” I felt my charge go stiff in my grasp. “Still, my colleagues will make sure the creature’s tended to, as well as locked securely until we can determine why it acted so violently. Meanwhile, I’ll be escorting the both of you to the hospital. Can’t be too careful, after all.” Before I could object, he went on with, “I’m sure you understand.” Oh, right. A mother would typically be expected to react unreasonably concerned for her child in my situation. And since that was the role which I’d best take on in this particular situation, I figured I should act the part, unless I wanted to give myself away. To my eternal fortune, however, I did not need to concern myself with that dilemma for long at all, as a familiar voice rang out, its source approaching from the rear. “That won’t be necessary, officer. I can make sure my sister arrives home safely.” ‘Drat.’ Surely enough, the guard, together with everyone else in the area, offered deep, courteous bows towards where I heard my sister speak from. I sighed and turned around. Finding my ever-protective sister here, most likely in response to feeling my energy flaring earlier, I decided it was pointless to try to keep my and my charge’s disguises any further at this point. I turned back into my old appearance, luckily I had the foresight to equip my apparel anyway. Predictably, everyone around gasped in shock, however they were not taken aback by me in particular. “Luna,” Tia drew my attention allarmingly, approaching whilst pointing at my charge. There was the subtle sound of bell chimes. He was staring at the blood, which was now running along the marble towards us. He stretched out a hoof towards it. I jumped and hurried away, holding him tightly while I did so. I turned him towards me, but he did not respond, as if in a trance. His eyeless sockets were opened, an eerie red glow emanating from within. “Are you alright?” I asked him. No response. “…Answer me! My child! Talk to me, please!” He seemed to have heard me that time, as he shook his head clear of whatever he was experiencing. The curious sound of chimes and the red glowing of his eyes ceased. He lowered his eyelids back down, an obviously confused look on his face. “What did you call me?” he asked, genuinely at a loss. I sighed out in relief. “Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!” “I did?” he asked, rubbing the side of his head. “What did I do? I seem to have blacked out for a moment there.” I looked back to the now motionless bloodstain on the marble. Tia approached, and spoke, “Perhaps we can look into it safely at some point in the future. For now, I think we need a little time to clear our heads.” We didn’t want to cut our day short so quickly, but it couldn’t be helped. Perhaps next time. I didn’t even get the chance to introduce him to donuts… Celestia teleported us back to the castle, not wanting to hear any objections. She was very persistent in keeping us as safe as possible. I presumed she might’ve been a bit upset over what happened. In that respect, when I brought up whether we could visit any of our cities today in order to show him how our subjects lived, she would not hear any of that either. I briefly considered that this must be how my charge feels about being supervised and held against his will. I'm certain he'll appreciate us sneaking out tonight. We shall feast on the delectable dough holes yet! We appeared in my sister’s study. Apparently Tia was busy signing forms when she sensed my power spiking. Early in the morning, and she already had a stack of papers waiting for her. I would feel sorry for her, if I didn't know she actually enjoyed the chore… Anyway, we had a few things to talk about, so she asked her aide to leave the chamber while we discussed what just happened. While… ugh… Quill-Something? While her aide was clearing her documents, Tia sat down behind her desk and beckoned us to sit across fron her. Before either I or my sister could initiate the conversation, my charge started, “Alright, tell me. Exactly how much damage does a lethal amount typically consist of around here?” It took me a while to understand what he was talking about. “Much more than what it took for me to break that wretched creature’s skull, if that’s what you’re getting at.” “That’s not it. You were supposed to be sliced in half in that initial attack, at least if you were a regular human. However, you emerged without even a scratch. What, does your kind have mithril-lined pelts or something?” There was a sense of horror steadily growing in my throat. I knew what he was getting at, but I was reluctant to follow that train of thought to the end. Celestia regarded me with not small amount of concern, then eyed my charge carefully, “A regular pony can be whipped by a manticore’s tail with nary a bruise to tell the tale, not to speak of the naturally resilient earth pony, who could technically be flattened by a dragon and just bounce back out with not much more than a few bruises and aching joints. An alicorn’s resilience is… harder to measure, as it varies according to their tier and attunement to their Aspect. Suffice to say, you could drop a mountain on us out of nowhere and we’d survive without that much trouble.” She paused, steel in her eyes, before continuing, “What about humans?” “Well, I don’t know about any mountains, but there is this one record of the first recorded murder of a human. It was by his brother, which merely brought a respectably large rock, no larger than a forearm was long, to the back of his sibling’s head, in a tantrum. He didn’t even mean to kill his brother, since death was as-of-yet unheard of back then. Or so the tale goes, at least.” Tia’s eyes went a little colder at that, but still she wanted to make sure. “…Pardon? A rock?” I held him a little closer. He seemed to notice, but said nothing of it. He just went on, “…Yes, a rock. Hell, let’s be generous and say that it was a very sharp rock that the farmer used. Perhaps the stone on his plough? Regardless, he didn’t really need the addition of the stick connected to the stone, but whatever helps you sleep at night. Honestly, even a rock thrown by a skilful-enough slinger could kill quite effectively, then again there are always bows, spears and crossbows. Regarding being flattened by a dragon, however, I don’t think I heard of any records of any human, dwarf, elf or other, surviving the experience. Except for that one druid that one time… No, wait. He reincarnated. Nevermind.” I have to confess that neither I nor my sister focused our study of his race beyond a general, perspective view. We did not force ourselves through studying any instances where they’d… died. We only deemed it sufficient to agree that they were just a very violent race, only a slight ways away from our gryphons in likeness in that respect. A rock to the back of the head. We just assumed that they were more resilient. We had no reason to think otherwise, how could we have known otherwise?! It was unthinkable that it took just this much to kill one of them! It takes a boulder to injure a pony, and it wouldn’t even be anything that they couldn’t recover from afterwards! It takes falling at terminal velocity for a pegasus to break their wing, which only contains their very thinnest bones! But what is a rock?! What is a human left to assume of their lives if it could be taken so easily?! Celestia wanted to try to find an explanation. “I am sorry, we were not aware of any of this. It seems our morphic field preserves us, while your kind might not even have it to begin with.” “We do have it,” he cut off, “It just doesn't offer any kindness. Even so, I don't think I understand. You can get literally flattened by a boulder, but say no thanks and stay alive?” “To an extent, yes.” (**) “What about stab wounds to the heart or head? What about drowning?” his tone even, it seemed he suspended his disbelief and was now merely gathering information. “While there is a limit, the pony body will always seek to return itself to perfect health. Make no mistake, we can die, it's just less easy. We're physically adapted to making best use of our magic. Even if we are ever at the point of death, we fall into a coma, an organ at the base of the brain keeping it from deteriorating until another pony might come and take us to safety.”(***) He was about to object further, but Celestia hadn’t finished. “There’s also the matter of Windygos.” “…What?” Celestia took a while to gather her composure for such a grim subject. “In the case of ponies being claimed by wild things, they become part of the forest and act as a deterrent keeping ponies and animals separate. If the culprit was sapient itself however, the victim's spirit gradually gets twisted and warped by the need for vengeance, eventually becoming a Revenant. In the case of ponies, that would be a spirit of cold and hate, a Windygo." On queue, Tia’s horn lit up and an image of the spirit in question appeared in front of us. She went on, "After the Windygo claims its culprit, it is left to roam the lands, prowling for ponies with an explicit desire to shed blood. Once they catch their scent, they hunt again. The more hatred, the more prevalent the scent, so a pony who intends on taking a peer’s life would be quite irresistible.” For emphasis, the images depicted the shadows representing two ponies, one wielding a knife in a threatening manner around the other’s back. The culprit lifting the weapon to strike, but being imprisoned in ice as soon as the knife started being brought down. “The common Windygo freezes any pony it comes across, instinctively, so as to preserve their source of hatred indefinitely… unless they’re enraged.” “And what if they’re enraged?” he asked, just as unreadable. Tia escaped a sigh. As answer, she changed the image. This time the knife landed, and the second pony dissolved into a far larger, more menacing ethereal shape. The culprit was not encased in ice, instead being turned to ice themselves, then shattered, the sounds of screaming only intensifying after that. “So around here, Wendigos are created through murder? Where I’m from, they are created through cannibalism.” “…I think I’m ill,” I went. “I am not surprised,” my colt answered shortly, nonplussed. Tia asked, “You seem to be taking this well.” “How am I supposed to react to the revelation that, unlike mine, your race actually seems to live above the natural law? All I can say is, I am surprised that you didn’t overpopulate by now.” “…Right. About that." Tia traced a hoof to the side of her mouth reluctantly, looking to the side. "You see, unlike humans, ponies run on a mating season, once every ten years. We also happen to have a longer lifespan.” My charge seemed to have had enough. He finally burst out of being unreadable, giving in to the restlessness and tension that had been gathering underneath the surface. “Okay! So, this particular conversation line seems to be having trouble dying in excruciating agony, so I’ll just take the liberty of killing it myself! There, it’s dead! We have better things to discuss right now! We were talking about the beast that attacked us today!” “Oh, right," I offered, less in a tone of recollection and more in one of uneasiness. "You were asking how I didn’t get sliced in half by that beast.” “The Snallighast,” he offered, studying me persistently. “…But that was not a Snallygaster, however,” my sister offered to correct. “There you go as well,” he replied, turning to face her in turn. The colt decided he finally had enough of the close proximity and bound off on top of the desk. “You say Windygo, I say Wendigo. You say Snallygaster, I say Snallighast. Let me throw a random idea out of nowhere now. We both have different versions of the wintry spectre, perhaps we also have a different version of the multi-tongued bird crossed with a lizard with hooked talons and only one eye as well? Perhaps your language link is trying to point out that we're not really talking about the exact same creature after all?” My sister went again, “Around these parts, this particular member of the wyvern family is far less… well, disturbing than the creature you two have faced. However, I can’t say for certain that it doesn’t present a distinct resemblance to our own version, despite its larger size and general appearance. Wouldn’t you agree, Luna?” I nodded, and my colt retorted, “The Snallighast is part of the ghast family. Ghouls with spectral abilities, including phasing through solid structures and becoming invisible. If I were to guess, your version is simply a two-legged creature with dragon-like characteristics, literally the description of a wyvern, correct?…” I nodded, and Tia replied, “Yes, you are. I would also like to offer my own random idea, if you don’t mind.” “Speak your mind,” he allowed. She lit up her horn and her desk was split in two halves. The left side had a hoof track next to the line in the middle, and the right side had a palm track in a mirroring position. On the left side appeared many magical beasts’ silhouettes from our world, two of which were highlighted. “I believe that there might possibly be a connection between all of these differences, which our scholars might be able to find.” “Or maybe there isn’t, and they would be wasting their time on your behalf. Or perhaps there are actually multiple different elements setting our two worlds apart. Just this morning I found out from Luna that you have a Dreamworld acting as a buffer between this realm and the realm of the dead. We don’t have any such realm to speak of.” “Good to know,” Tia replied, and jotted new information down on a note. “And even if they would be wasting their time, they would be doing so in my service, on my money. So it’s my choice to make.” “Suit yourself. Mind at least explaining why you’re so anxious to throw away your money?” “Oh!” she laughed warmly. “How silly of me! I forgot to explain, it was the random idea I mentioned that I came across. I just thought, randomly, that perhaps your Necromancy might also work differently from ours? It was something I wondered since I couldn’t quite explain that little display of yours during your blackout minutes ago, and considering there are no records of any Necromancers as talented as yourself in our world, then perhaps your advanced affiliation would manifest differently here than in your original world?” To his credit, my colt only remained taken aback very briefly. “You’re talking about reverse-engineering not only the mechanisms behind both human and equine magic, but also about me teaching you the intricacies of my art which I’ve gathered over a century and a half.” “That I am.” And to Tia’s credit, she remained as calm and collected as though she had just merely asked someone to pass the salt at the table. My colt did not seem amused in the slightest. What he said afterwards, however, took me off guard. Only me, however. “Tell you what. How about you remove this seal off of me, and maybe I’ll consider it?”