It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
'It's the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)'
The land of Equestria may seem a harmless utopia, but this visage exists only on the surface. She sits upon the mouth of Tartarus, the underworld housing all manner of fell beasts and foul demons. She once was ruled by a being intrinsically opposed to every natural law to exist. A mighty nest of insidious skin-changers lurk within her borders, and she is the feeding grounds of great wyrms who darken the skies when their host travels. The land of Equestria may seem bright, yes, but where there is light there is shadow.
And where there is shadow, monsters walk.
Possibly the most ancient and terrible of these monsters has no name, for it was forgotten when the world was still young. If one were to find a text or tome that references this horror, it would be called the Lich, for it lives in death, or the Other, for it is no longer a part of this world. Once a wise sage, a peerless sorcerer, this being traded all worldly possessions, upheld cruel bargains, and eventually renounced their very self all for the promise of power. It traded its soul to a demon lord in the deepest pits of Tartarus, its name to a Haytian wizard bent on raising an army of dead soldiers. It sacrificed its body piece by piece to power dark rituals granting it greater and greater arcane strength until all that was left was a force of pure malevolence, the faintest whisper through the ages that would grip emperors and peasants alike and drive them towards ever-increasing acts of madness and depravity, turning them from sane beings into twisted shells of their former selves. This instigator, infiltrator, existed for millennia, crumbling dynasties and felling empires, until finally it was identified by the unicorn Starswirl, and contained by the Equestrian princess sisters Celestia and Luna in the form of a spell. The only record of the incantation to unleash the Other upon the world was hidden away and forgotten about, and in its silent prison the Other waited and dreamed shapeless dreams of conquest.
It was the dragon Spike, raised among ponies and so unlike any other of his species, that both uncovered the tome of the Lich and set it upon Equestria once more. Its first host, the unicorn Rarity, though beginning with frivolous manifestations of will, would have in time grown bored with mundane acts of creatio ex nihilo, hers tastes and vision drifting more and more towards the bizarre and perverse ideology of the dread spirit that spoke into her innermost thoughts. This had not happened, as the dragon Spike had, as per one of the arcane stipulations placed by the rulers of Tartarus in the Lich's eternal quest for power, broken the possession with the truth uncovering the possessed going against their true nature; instead the nefarious spirit had been unshackled and left free to drift amid the ether, searching for a new host.
-/-
Big Macintosh gave a faint frown as he surveyed the scene in front of him. It wasn't every day a princess came to Sweet Apple Acres--well, in fairness, Twilight Sparkle was around every now and then, so really it wasn't every day one of the other princesses visited--and while he did appreciate the help from Princess Cadance with setting things back the way they were, it was a major disruption to things around the farm. Mac had planned a day of retiling the roof of the big barn and finally moving out that swallow's nest that had been up in there for three harvests; maybe he could see Fluttershy at the end of the day to see what could be done about them not coming back for a fourth. He had planned this, but since the big barn was now a dainty manor house covered in jewels, gold paint, and what Mac was pretty sure was a gigantic feather boa fixing the tiles seemed rather pointless. He could maybe squeeze another five minutes out of watching the pretty alicorn zap at the structure with different shades of light, trying to unravel the dark magic, but then he was sure he'd begin to feel restless at not doing anything useful. He turned and went back inside the farmhouse, to pour himself a drink of water.
He could hear the sounds of magic and the high pling! of the shiny manor shrugging off the spells over the running faucet. As he lifted the glass to his lips, he was reminded that there had been a slight bitter metallic taste creeping into the drinking water over the past couple of weeks. It was just in the house, though, and not out by the well, which meant there was probably a section of pipe that had started to rust somewhere. Now was as good a time as any to try to find it.
An imperceptible flicker rippled in Big Macintosh's green eyes.
-/-
The will of the Other pressed its icy tendrils into Big Macintosh's being. He was less grandiose than Rarity, less easy to manipulate, but that would make his fall all the more subtle and deadly. It had been too ambitious to think he would attempt to domineer the alicorn Cadance right then and there, but this was clearly not the correct approach; longer conditioning was required for this simple farmer. He could be the leader of a cruel regime, his subjects obeying with total compliance. Order, structure, unforgiving discipline, a totalitarian empire would be forged, given enough time, given enough suggestion, and it would all begin with correcting a rusty pipe. How easy it would be for him to impose his will on the aberrant section, to force it to comply with his vision, to conform, become uniform. How little a distance between plumbing and other ponies...
The cancer in Big Macintosh's soul waited with immortal patience.
-/-
Wiping his brow and glancing at the clock, Mac was surprised to find such little time had passed. Finding the faulty length of pipe had been easy, as a little puddle had collected in the corner of the cabinet beneath the sink, and it just so happened he had a segment left over that was the exact same size and shape. Normally any kind of plumbing was a full-day affair that involved crawling around beneath the farmhouse, scrunching along with a lantern and second-guessing whether it was this piece of pipe that was the culprit as none of them gave away how they were rotting on the inside; it must be his lucky day.
He brushed off his hooves and turned on the faucet, hearing first the thud-thud-thud of pipes that had been filled with air instead of liquid before the water began to flow. He emptied his glass from earlier and filled it. It tasted cold and clean.
Nodding to himself, he considered what should be done with the rest of the day. The big barn still wasn't its old self and didn't show any signs of being so in the near future, so he could forget about tiling for today. The orchard had already been checked for bugs, parasites, and other pests this week, so going over it again would be nothing but busywork. The old shed needed a new coat of paint, as the current one was cracking and peeling in places, but that was a job that required both his sisters to pitch in as well even if it was started earlier in the day.
Then he remembered a task he had been putting off, because something more pressing was always unfinished. The plow needed sharpening. It could wait, and it already had waited a couple of seasons, and it was a long and tedious job that quite literally put his nose (almost) to the grindstone for hours. But it was a pleasant day, and he could probably see the former big barn (and the princess trying in vain to restore it) from his place working at the heavy slab.
Big Macintosh went to fetch the dull plow, the sounds of metal scraping against stone already in his mind.
-/-
It was not subjugation the farmer craved, no: it was violence. The Other would work on him as he in turn worked the blade of the farming instrument, honing him to a cutting edge, fill his mind with images of gore and carnage. He would be the sword's edge, the axe's head, the wretched scythe that cut a bloody swath through the world. All he needed was something sharp in his powerful hooves, and pliant flesh before him.
The silent voice in Big Macintosh's heart hissed sibilant whispers.
-/-
Sunlight glinted off the edge of the plow. By Mac's reckoning, it had never been this sharp, not even when it was brand new. If he wasn't careful, he'd give himself a nasty cut. He couldn't put the plow away like this--he'd forget by the time came around to air the open fields and at best nick himself, and at worst one of his kin would tangle with it before he did.
What he could do was run it through the soil a little, dull it down a shade. There was a patch of ground by the west orchard that nothing had been done with yet; that could be plowed and turned into beds for... well, Mac didn't rightly know. It was too small and narrow for apples, but maybe the Apple family could try their hoof at branching out into some flowers, maybe even some spices. There were plenty of things they cooked with beyond apples that could grow here.
Hauling the plow behind him, Big Macintosh was already smelling fresh parsley and daisies.
-/-
Seeds. Seeds were the key. The Lich would lurk within the fertile soils of this simple farmer, waiting, ever vital, ever strong, waiting to burst forth and... what? Lust was not the path, nor power, not violence. The power to manifest anything his will desired, and all the farmer could imagine was a sharp plow, a fixed tap, and a pretty filly to watch. Was there any limit to his mundane nature? Would he be similarly unswayed by an easy path to riches, to vengeance against those who had wronged him, to a life free of toil and labor? The farmer liked labor, took pride in it. He wished for nothing grand, nothing out of reach compared to all he had already. The soil within him was not fertile, it was salted and dead. The Lich had corrupted the valiant and the noble and the pious, and now it would wither and fade in this dolt, this meat husk, this imbecile prison.
The unseen intruder within Big Macintosh howled with impotent rage.
-/-
Nopony ever knew of Big Macintosh's possession, for he never changed. He never wished for things he could not attain, never wasted hours and hours of life on contemplating how circumstances could be different; though simple and plain, his goals and his achievements were pure and honest. He did lead somewhat of a charmed life, the Lich buried deep within him screaming at each gift that went unnoticed, and as an old pony he died as he had lived, content and surrounded by family. When he closed his eyes for the final time and his last breath left him, the inarticulate shrieks of the Other desperately scrabbling to cling to its last vestige of unlife went unheard, and the greatest threat to Equestria and her well-being winked out of existence like a candle being doused.
The land of Equestria may seem dark and filled with monsters, but it is her little ponies that bring forth the light.
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Big Mac saves the day.
Zen master Big Mac. Nice. Darkness cannot shadow enlightenment, even if that enlightenment was not sought out. Especially if it wasn't sought out. Thank you for a delightful little story of awesome mundanity.
This really deserves to be featured. Here's hoping it happens by the end of the day.
4316618
I like the idea that Mac is an ocean of serenity over other characterisations of him, that he has himself all figured out and nothing, not even the routine madness in Ponyville, fazes him all that much.
4317490
I'll settle for the popular stories box (I think it's been there most of the day, by US timezones).
4318639
Well, there's possession and there's possession. I tried to set the Lich up as something unique, so just how it takes control of someone is intentionally vague, to begin with at least. I imagined it sort of like the end-boss of shoulder devils: it can't make you do anything, just suggest, and suggest, and suggest... just some ponies are pretty resistant to suggestion.
It's Mac. Of course.
This reminds me so much of Samwise Gamgee resisting the influence of the One Ring in LOTR; I loved it.
4320973
I hadn't made that connection myself, but you're totally right.
And now I have an image of Big Mac being all "Nnnope!" before carrying an exhausted Applejack the rest of the way up Mt. Doom. Which is kinda awesome.
I almost pity the Lich, being forced into subservience like that.
4321264
It would almost be worth a little pity, if it wasn't going to reforge the world according to its own dark machinations had things turned out differently.
4321630
Some ponies build birdhouses...
Everypony needs a retirement plan.
On that day...Big Mac Saved Equestria.
Crap, I haven't even read this story and the song is stuck in my head XD!
Dunno if this comment is even worth anything, but I will definitely be adding this to my read later list! (Having 1,822 stories there, however, I doubt I'll be getting to it anytime soon...XD!)
You write very well, and I enjoy how in character it is for Big Mac to actually do this.
So adding this to the very short list of my favorite stories. Congratz.
Now to check out your other stories!
Like and fave.
Didn't even read, just saw the Micheal Stipe lyric.
Very entertaining!
I could just imagine a mention in Predictions and Prophecies:
And the Other will rise again, and be once more a threat unto the world. But we will troll the shit out of it, and everything will be 'k.
Otherwise, a perfectly symmetrical fate for the would-be evil. To exist unheard, diminished and powerless at the whims of a force greater than itself? Talk about a reversal!
Damn straight. Well said, sir.
This is in my interests.
The trouble is that Big MacIntosh alrready self-actualized. The Lich could not tempt him. If the Lich would have chosen 1 of the CutieMarkCrusaders, all of Equus would have been doomed.
Big Mac is best pony. He woukd make a great King of Equestria, because he wants nithing more than he already has.
>>>Possibly the most ancient and terrible of these monsters has no name, for it was forgotten when the world was still young. If one were to find a text or tome that references this horror, it would be called the Lich, for it lives in death, or the Other, for it is no longer a part of this world. >>>
It's totally Xenu! Calling it! (Scientology FTW!)
>>>The land of Equestria may seem dark and filled with monsters, but it is her little ponies that bring forth the light.>>>
Word.
This statement is now LAW.
4321232 *ROFLMAO* You know, that happens to be one of the very first scene ideas I thought up in the rough outline I have for an LoTR-Pony crossover farce, "Lord of the Horseshoe".
One Shoe to Buck them All.
4327477
Through the best of intentions, the CMC would, given omnipotence, probably destroy their universe and a few neighbouring ones for good measure.
Or, finally get their cutie marks.
I love it! It is wonderful in that it communicates the idea that the best of us are the best because they do not wish to be anything more than what they are... so six hundred points for making me reflect on my own decisions in life, kudos to Big Mac for defeating an ancient evil, and another kudos for doing it without realizing it was ever there in the first place, and one more Kudos to Big Mac for reminding me of a good book with his far too sharp farm implement.
4328404
The cutie mark resulting from such an event might look like this:
img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110307111901/naruto/images/thumb/b/b3/Nature_Icon_Implosion.svg/100px-Nature_Icon_Implosion.svg.png
Reference: Explosion Release sigil from Naruto per NarutoPedia.
Note: I had no idea that sigil / mark existed; this most excellent story and the comment exchange between you and 4327477 caused me to giggle and Google "implosion mark" just to see what happened. I like the result! Hope you do, too.
Light and laughter,
SongCoyote
4328404
4328845
I wonder whether the Royal PonySisters, after thousands of years of life and having to, presumably, ascend like Twilight did, could suffer from temptation from the Lich. Given that they kept the book imprisoning the Lich in their vault of the Castle of the 2 Royal PonySisters, they could identify the influence of the Lich and resist it.
About dark influence, Princess Luna fell under the influence of the dark nightmare entities less than a century after the encounter with Sombra. Given the mindwarping magic of Sombra, which might have created the dark nightmareentities or might have been a victim of them. Sombra might have deliberately, or just from exposure infected Princess Luna. The Pony of Shadows might be a nightmareentity. All of this might connect to the Lich.
LIked the premise, but the delivery was a bit dull. I mean, we all knew what was going to happen from the story description. I wasn't expecting any suprises. This story does do what it claims to do. But the end result just didn't make a very compelling read.
Quite likeable, and you get a few props for the title. So it's win/win for you and me!
Aww.... I liked that ending.
Good job.
I like it!
This is awesome, I really enjoyed it. It's short, simple, and entertaining.
I love this very Zen portrayal of Big Mac; the story was mundane in the best possibe way.
Big Mac. Containing ancient evils beneath his pure, impenetrable will.
Like a bawss.
A very nice piece, but it felt too simple to have much impact. I know this was likely the case so, yay for success?
There's a very genuine strength to "The farmer liked labor, took pride in it."
These were some good horse words.
Title is a reference to the R.E.M. song.
So he got lots of good luck since he couldn't be corrupted. That's really nice, I like how he's happy with what he has.