Rifts

by Eldamaur

Chapter Eight

The quartet proceeded to clean up the camp, electing to burn the bodies of the gryphons in lieu of a proper burial. Tristan felt it odd that he was still grinning over his monetary gain as they set fire to the corpses, but didn’t beat himself up too hard about it. After salvaging what they could and destroying the camp the party followed the tracks back to the main path, making sure to be especially careful in case of subsequent slaver attacks.

Tristan had the urge to ask about the slavers, but an uncomfortable aura permeated the group from Krik’s executions which squelched the idea before it was ever voiced. Before long the rain was upon them, and they trudged on in silence. Not even the jingle of gold in Tristan’s pack seemed to pierce the soggy gloominess.

“When are we supposed to get there? None of us brought a tent, and there’s no way I’m going to get any sleep in a puddle,” Tristan eventually whined in the vague direction of Lore as the already feeble light of day began to wane.

“We were supposed to get there by sunset, but due to our little...incident...it might be a little later. Just try to persevere, will you?” Lore replied wearily, none too happy about the conditions himself.

Tristan huffed and pushed his sodden hair out of his eyes, musing upon how long it had been since he last cut it. Night eventually came, and with the moon hidden behind the dark clouds the only illumination was what came from Lore’s horn. They were a small bastion of light amid a sea of pressing darkness, with zero visibility save for their small radius of light. Tristan began to fear that something was following them, muffled by the sound of the rain and hidden by the blackness.

Nevertheless, they dutifully continued onward, until they came to a gigantic wooden gate on the road. Sparse lights illuminated a wall made of sturdy tree trunks slowly curving into the distance, encompassing the area ahead of them.

“Strange travellers in the night, be you here in peace or for a fight?” an odd voice called down from a tower adjoining the wall, barely audible over the rain.

“We’re the emissaries sent from Equestria, you should have received word about us!” Lore yelled in the direction of the voice.

There was no reply for a moment, and then the great gate slowly began to swing open. “That went rather well, at the least!” Lore said, attempting to sound chipper but failing.

“Tristan, stay with me. Don’t leave my side even once until we get to the embassy, alright?” Noble ordered as they crossed the gateway. “You too, Krik, but I doubt you’d be their first target,” he added offhandedly.

With that they shambled through the gate, finding that the view inside wasn’t much better than outside. The muddy dirt road had turned to cobblestone, but there still wasn’t nearly enough light to get by without the assistance of Lore’s horn. The feeling of the unknown was heavy as they walked into what could be anything, but Lore assured the others he knew the way. The entire time Noble kept himself directly at Tristan’s side, swivelling his head to and fro, scanning for danger.

Aren’t we supposed to be here? If so, why are we acting like this place is full of hostiles? There must be something the others aren’t telling me...

The inside of the city looked as gloomy as the weather. Instead of houses and proper buildings, haphazard shacks and hovels lined the street, winding erratically off into the distance. No paths lead to any of the constructs, and few lights could be seen off the main road. Lore stayed to the main road, which was devoid of life save for them, and seemed more intent on leading them than explaining about the city.

As they drew closer to the heart of the city the dwellings became steadily less ramshackle, until they resembled the buildings Tristan had seen in Canterlot. However, the architecture was quite distinct in that the buildings were almost completely carved with intricate designs and decorations and they seemed to have fewer pointed angles, instead opting for more rounded edges.

They finally reached a building unlike the others, in that it was much more well lit, with a warm glow emanating from its dirty windows. Lore let out a satisfied sigh and motioned them forward, bringing them through a large wooden door with a sign above it that marked the building as the Equestrian embassy. The inside of the building was cheerily lit, with a roaring fire in the grate. A startled pony receptionist with a brilliant green coat and yellow mane let out a small cry and dropped the book she was reading as she noticed her strange and unkempt visitors, immediately calming herself down and pretending that she hadn’t had an outburst.

“Y-you must be the emissaries we’ve been expecting! You couldn’t have come at a much worse time, but we’ll work with what we’re given!” the receptionist stuttered, wincing at her lack of decorum.

Lore paid little heed to her discomfort, brusquely motioning to the others as they dripped all over the floor. “As you can see, we haven’t had a very pleasant trip. I do hope you have rooms prepared...”

“Oh, yes, of course! Just, wait here a moment, please!” she responded hastily, hurrying off through a door. A bit of indistinguishable yelling was heard and she reappeared, looking flustered. “Err, right this way...” she said, waiting for the group to begin following her before leading them further into the building and up some stairs.

Four fairly cramped rooms were waiting for them, but what they lacked in size they made up for in coziness. Each had its own lit fireplace and boasted a comfortable looking bed, along with a small desk. Lore merely grunted and pointed them each to a room, before taking his own and resolutely slamming his door shut. With vague grumbles of goodnights each slunked into their respective rooms.

Tristan felt the exhaustion of his journey hit him at once, as he wearily slinked out of his clothes and hung them by the fire. With that he collapsed onto his bed and let the pounding rain on his window quickly lull him to sleep.

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The next morning began slowly, with a hearty breakfast served in bed by the green pony from earlier, who introduced herself as Emerald Shine. Lore eventually came into Tristan’s room, looking a great deal more rested than Tristan had seen him in a while.

“Well, the hard part’s over, now all that’s left is dealing with royalty,” Lore began dryly. “But before that, I talked with Emerald about your alchemy training. She’s authorized to pay whatever fee needed for it, so we’ll get to that directly after our first meeting with the king and queen. I trust you find that agreeable?”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine. Can you tell me anything about the royals, though? I’d rather not meet them and offend them to the point of a beheading or something,” Tristan replied.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. They’re both known for their humility, odd as that is for royalty. In fact, as their custom dictates, they each gave up their birth names when they became the queen and king, to symbolize their complete dedication to the office. It’s a fascinating subject, really...but one for another time,” Lore responded.

“Alright, one more question before we do whatever it is we’re doing, though. If this is their capital, why does it look so terrible? You’d think it’d be a little more...grand, but most of the place looks like crap,” Tristan queried as he gazed out his window, to see that the rain had died down to a very light sprinkle.

“Right, yes...I suppose it would be good to go over that. I sometimes forget that you don’t know all of this stuff already,” Lore said apologetically. “For a number of reasons, the zebras were hit especially hard by the rift spawn. The two foremost of those reasons were their choice in location for their cities, and their natural tendencies.”

“You see, the very same natural magic hotspots that are now such dangerous places, such as the Everfree, were their favored locales to settle in. Ponies generally prefer having a bit more control over their surroundings, what with pegasi managing the weather and whatnot, but zebras have historically been a bit closer to nature, choosing to flow with it rather than control it. Sadly, that meant almost all of their larger settlements quickly became uninhabitable when the rift crisis began, for obvious reasons...”

“The other reason is their widespread pacifism. When Celestia saw the destruction wrought by rift spawn, drastic measures were enacted; measures which resulted in almost every rift spawn in Equestria being either trapped or destroyed. The zebras refused to make that choice, insisting that they would not judge every spawn by the actions of some, instead taking each spawn on a case by case basis. I suppose that would have worked out well for your type, and some spawn were indeed non-hostile, but also non-sentient. The downside of this approach was that it left many dangerous spawn alive and free. As such, Zebrica is in shambles. This was once a small town, but it was declared the new capital about a year ago and expanded to take on all the refugees. And so, you can see why you and Krik are of such great interest to them. You’re proof that not killing every spawn can be a good thing, and the king and queen want their people to know that.”

Tristan continued to stare out the window for a moment, processing the information. “...Seems like they’ve had a rough time. I thought it was a bit harsh, Celestia’s policy...but I suppose I can see what might have happened otherwise. I guess there really wasn’t a ‘good’ option, was there?” he finally assessed.

Lore just nodded sadly, and the two stood in silence for a moment. Eventually, Lore cleared his throat and began again. “Anyway, we have a busy day ahead of us. Change into your spare clothes and we’ll get moving. We’re not due at the palace, if you can call it that, for a while longer, but it’s best to be early.”

Tristan nodded, at which Lore left the room. He rooted around in his pack until he found his spare clothes, which were a good deal less dirty than the rancid messes of sweat and dirt that hung over the fireplace.

I can’t imagine that the general populace is too happy with their monarchs if things are going that badly for them...I wonder what the political climate is around here. I’d hate to be in their position, but I suppose someone has to take the blame. I’d have rather had Celestia’s policy, if this is what happens when you try to show a bit of mercy and understanding.

He overheard bits and pieces of the conversations in the rooms adjoining to his, where Lore was getting the others ready as well, along with explaining some details to Krik. Tristan elected to leave his room and after yelling to Lore about whether or not he should bring his sword, which he got a negatory on, he descended the stairs into the lobby.

Emerald was at her desk, along with two other ponies, addressing some concern from a zebra. A long line of them wound out the door and assumedly into the street, with every zebra in some state of dishevelment. At Tristan’s appearance an unearthly hush fell over the room, followed by countless whispers as a good few zebra discreetly pointed towards Tristan.

“Well, this is awkward...” Tristan said sheepishly, at which another hush instantaneously fell. “I’m...just gonna go...” he said, slowly backing his way up the stairs without taking his eyes off the crowd. “Lore! Are we ready to go yet?” he yelled into Krik’s room, which Lore was currently visiting.

No answer came, but Lore and Krik shortly appeared before Tristan decided to ask again. “Yes, yes, we’re quite ready,” Lore said, as Noble emerged from his own room in full battle gear.

“Expecting trouble?” Tristan queried as he saw Noble securing his hammer into its holster.

“You kidding? I’d bet half this city wants you two dead, and the other half wouldn’t care either way,” he responded gruffly, which earned him an apprehensive and worried look from Tristan.

“Now wait a moment, that’s not right! The entire reason they’re in this mess is because they showed mercy to rift spawn, so why would they decide to change that now, when they know Tristan and Krik are friendly?” Lore hastily defended.

“For that exact reason. Because rift spawn are the entire reason they’re in this mess,” Noble replied flatly. Lore was silent a moment, looking as if he was formulating some rebuttal, before sighing and dropping the issue, while Tristan looked on, confused, at the sudden disagreement.

“I’m not going to object to a heavily armed bodyguard, soooo...” Tristan tried to jest, his weak attempt at humor falling flat and ignored by the others.

Eventually Krik was the one to break the moment by moving towards the stairs. “Speculation serves no purpose if our actions shall not be changed. So, let us cease wasting time and be away!” he said definitively, disappearing down the stairs. The others shared a look and followed, not wishing to delay further.

The long line of zebras was still there, and the ones near the door quickly moved aside to allow the group to leave unhindered. While they had looked curiously upon Tristan many looked with fear upon Krik, and several physically cowered at the sight of him. Krik paid absolutely no heed to the behavior and resolutely led them out of the building, causing the others to have to hasten to catch up.

Lore took the lead outside and brought them back to the main road, pointing towards a large building not too far ahead. “That’s the palace, which is really just a modified town hall at this point. Try not to get lost, everyone, in case Noble happens to be right!” he instructed, taking a long look around before continuing forward.

The street they were on was bustling with activity, with a great deal of stalls each hawking their wares. Tristan felt a bit odd at the reception he was getting, not because it was bad, but because it was almost nonexistent. Almost all of the attention was directed at Krik and his large stinger, as the crowds parted before them. One small foal attempted to run towards them, only to be whacked upside the head by its mother with a long stick and dragged back into the crowd, dazed. The entire situation was exceedingly awkward, and Tristan found himself missing the days where he could go out in public and just blend in with the crowd.

Eventually the group made it to the end of the road, where a strange building lay at the top of a hill. It stood three stories high, and looked like it was too large for its foundation. Some bits of the interior building could be seen, while the rest of it was obscured by extensions on all sides, painted over to make them look coherent. While the look was indeed rather haphazard, Tristan could still spy intricate gold leaf and other expensive decorations, giving the building an at least somewhat ornate look.

Two stone-faced zebra guards, equipped with long lances and chainmail, stood unmoving at the entrance. Lore looked at them awkwardly for a moment, expecting to be greeted, but found none forthcoming. “I suppose that’s one perk of having you two with me: it’s always obvious who we are...” Lore said, opting to just continue forward through the door. The guards didn’t move an inch, and the quartet proceeded inside.

The inside of the building was lavishly decorated, but seemed too small for its importance. The entry room was no bigger than one that might be found in a normal town hall, lacking a high ceiling or anything imposing. The group congregated into the empty room and stood there uncomfortably, not knowing where to go next.

Lore waited a moment without making any sort of move, before finally deciding to call out. “Erm, hello? We’re the envoy from Equestria, I know we’re a little early but-” he began, cut off by the sudden appearance of a heavily ornamented female zebra, to the point that she looked to be more gold than fur.

“Come with me, and make haste. Royalty's time is not one you wish to waste, ” she said, disappearing through an adjacent door as swiftly as she had appeared.

The group stood there dumbly for a moment, before Lore followed. “Well, come on then, follow her!” he said, at which they all complied. The zebra was waiting patiently in the room, completely still, and didn’t move a single muscle until they all filed in. At that point she did the same as she did in the other room, disappearing up some stairs.

Alright, I’m getting a little creeped out...I know customs are bound to be different, but how hard is it to just walk normally? Maybe she’s just showing off, or something...

This process continued until they found themselves in a room that had a ceiling two stories tall, despite not being on the first floor. At the end of the room, flanked by a quartet of guards, sat two auspicious looking zebras, covered in jewels and fine clothing.

The male one, presumably the king, was the first to speak. “We see that you have arrived at last; we hope your journey has not made you too downcast,” he said, his voice firm but not hostile in the slightest.

Alright, now that time I know the rhyme was on purpose! Is that like a thing with them, or what? And how the Hell would that work through the translation enchantment, anyway? Bah.

“Err, yes, your highness, we have...arrived,” Lore responded. “These are the two rift spawn, Tristan...” he began, motioning to Tristan, “...and Krik,” he finished, motioning to Krik in turn. “They are each fully sentient and friendly, as they have been described.”

The king and queen looked intently at the two of them, their piercing stares analyzing every inch of them and suddenly making Tristan very conscious of the fact that he hadn’t bathed in days. “Well, speak! We have not summoned you here simply to admire your physique!” the king commanded.

“Hello, I’m-” “It is my-” Tristan and Krik respectively began at the exact same time, both halting their speech when they noticed the other had began to talk. This ended in yet another awkward moment as they just stood there eyeing the room uncomfortably.

The king and queen sat in silence, their expressions unreadable. Without warning the king burst into a hearty but abrupt laugh, breaking the seriousness of the moment. “Please, do not be so uptight! I believe that you will find us to be quite alright,” he said, visibly relaxing his demeanor.

“Heh...right...well, like Lore said, my name’s Tristan, pleasure to meet you two...” Tristan awkwardly ventured, giving a half-wave.

“And I am known here as Krik,” Krik added abruptly.

“It is our pleasure to meet the two of you, as you have shown to be quite the breakthrough,” the queen said in a quiet voice. “To know that the suffering of our people was not in vain gives each of us a happiness that we could not feign.”

“Yes, well, you can see that they’re both as advertised, so if I may inquire, what now?” Lore asked in his most official voice.

“Now we must show our people the good news, and organize a parade for these breakthroughs!” the king said enthusiastically. “Their lives have been dour for quite some time, and a little merriment would be simply sublime. In one week’s time it shall commence, and until then our hospitality we do dispense.”

Lore looked to Tristan, who shrugged, and Krik, who was unreadable, before nodding his head in agreement. “We should be able to stay for another week, as in fact Tristan here was going to see about getting some alchemy tutoring before we left anyway.”

“The fine art of alchemy, you say? Then perhaps your patience we can repay,” the queen said, her voice hardly a whisper in comparison with the king’s. “We know of a tutor most skilled, who was once leader of the alchemy guild. He is now retired, but with our word his aid you may acquire.”

Tristan looked to Lore pleadingly, who was more than happy to accept. “That sounds wonderful! We’ll be staying at the Equestrian embassy, so you could reach us there,” Lore agreed.

“Very well then, it is done. Leave us for now and we shall prepare for the fun!” the king commanded. The group obeyed, slowly tracing their way back out of the building and heading towards the embassy.

“Well, that went better than expected, didn’t it?” Lore assessed chipperly.

“Yeah, I guess it did, and hey, nothing attacked us! That’s a pretty big plus,” Tristan agreed, nudging Noble in the armor, at which he grunted.

“We’re not out of here yet. Remember that we expected the king and queen to be on our side; it’s the dissidents I’m worried about...” Noble said wearily. “I’ll be glad when we’re back in Equestria, away from all this alien culture mumbo-jumbo.”

“What, me and Krik aren’t alien enough for you?” Tristan said in mock hurt. “I mean, they may speak in rhyme, but we’ve got hands.”

Neither Lore nor Noble dignified that with an answer, and they shortly made it back to the embassy. Noble informed the others that he was going to scout the area a little bit, and Lore and Krik decided to go find as much information as they could about the rifts, at Krik’s behest. Tristan opted to stay in his room, reading through his alchemy book in anticipation of his tutoring.

I can’t imagine that alchemy is really that hard, if this is all it is. I mean, I picked it up like a week ago, and I’m already making perfectly useable potions...what more could there be to know? I bet alchemists just try to make it seem hard so that they can jack up the prices for the stuff they sell. I suppose I’ll figure it out soon enough...

Several hours later, before any of the others had returned, Tristan heard a knock on his door. What confused Tristan about it was that it was hardly audible, unlike the sharp raps from Noble or Krik, and he knew Lore would just let himself in. Nevertheless, he opened his door to see who his visitor was.

At first he saw no one, but then he turned his eyes downwards and saw a zebra colt that was practically cowering in fear. “A-are you...Tristan?” the colt squeaked out, seemingly making a point of attempting direct eye contact.

Tristan gave a small chuckle, finding the whole display to be a little adorable. “Yes, I’m Tristan. And no, I’m not going to eat you, or anything of the sort. And just who are you?” he replied in the least threatening voice he could muster, softening up his posture to match.

The little zebra relaxed slightly, steadying one shaking foreleg with the other. “My name is Shauku, and I’m supposed to come get you!” he said with sudden determination.

“Oh? And what for?” Tristan asked, finding Shauku’ resoluteness to be all the more adorable.

“My Grandpa Pombe said the queen told him to train you! He hasn’t taught anyone but me in a long time, but he’s really the best! Anyway, come with me, or my mom will start to get worried,” Shauku said, waiting for Tristan to gather his alchemy supplies before bounding down the stairs.

I should really wait for the others to get back before leaving like this, but I am going to be with a kid, so I doubt anyone will make a move on me just yet. Besides, I want to get started!

Tristan followed Shauku through the city, leaving the main street and passing through several neighborhoods close to the center of town. He had a few questions that he wanted to ask Shauku but never got the chance to ask them, as the little colt seemed determined to get them to their destination as quickly as possible, to the point of knocking over several passersby in his speed. Eventually they got to a fairly unassuming looking house, where Shauku finally stopped.

“Grandpa’s real nice; I’m sure you’ll like him. Follow me!” Shauku exclaimed, dashing off into the house. Tristan looked around the street uneasily, seeing a great deal of eyes affixed on him, and entered the house.

The inside of the house was decorated in a fairly utilitarian way, without much clutter or knick-knacks. Several masks, which reminded Tristan of tiki masks, hung from prominent places on the walls, each perfectly straight and aligned. Not a thing in the entry room seemed to be out of place in the slightest, giving Tristan the feeling that he was intruding somewhere that he shouldn’t be. However, Shauku was right there waiting for him, and he followed his small guide into another room.

Inside of the room was a decrepit looking zebra that was covered in wrinkles, black stripes long since faded to more of a grey. Much more interesting than the room’s occupant was the workplace that sat next to him, which was covered in a vast array of alchemical ingredients, glassware of all shapes and sizes, and a number of apparati that Tristan didn’t recognize. At Tristan’s entrance the elderly zebra slowly rose from the chair he was sitting in, coming to face Tristan.

“...So you are this rift spawn I’ve heard so much about...I’ve heard that you’re friendly, but I still have some doubt. In good faith I sent my grandson to get you, and it seems that decision I will not come to rue. Tell me, why are you interested in alchemy? Seems one of your build would be better in an army!” the zebra said, not slowly, not quickly, but very evenly and mellowly.

“I take it you’re Pombe, then?” Tristan ventured, at which the zebra nodded his head. “Well, sir, I want to learn alchemy because I want to be good at something, to have something to fall back on if I can’t get back home. Where I come from there is no magic, so the idea of it is thrilling to me, but I can’t do it normally. If I could learn alchemy I could at least simulate magic, which is a lot more than I could do back home,” he finished, rattling off the words that he had rehearsed in his head for this very occasion.

“Alchemy is an art easy to begin, but very hard to master. Do you truly believe you have what it takes to succeed within, or will you admit defeat faster than this youngster?” Pombe questioned, staring Tristan straight in the eye.

Tristan returned the gaze, unfaltering. “I’ll do what it takes to learn, and I’ve already begun to do so. I’m no slouch, and I’ll do what I need to. You don’t have to worry about me giving up,” he responded resolutely.

Pombe eyed him for a bit longer before nodding and slouching back into his chair. “Very well, but any thoughts of easy alchemy you must dispel. I am a master at my craft, and refuse to teach the daft.”

With that he stood up once more, going over to his alchemy equipment and messing around with several of the apparati on the table. He selected one, a strange looking glass container with a cork on the top of it and a long thin tube at its top. The tube wound in a spiral down another glass container that sat next to the first, and ended at the bottom. He then arrayed several ingredients on the table, both liquid and solid, along with a small gas burner, and stood aside.

“Let us test your instincts in alchemy, and find if this tutelage was meant to be,” he said, looking expectantly at Tristan. Shauku was hopping up and down, barely suppressing his urge to shout out the answer, but was quelled by a look from his grandfather.

What the Hell is that thing? It looks like some mad scientist type of stuff! I seriously think I saw one of those in the original Frankenstein! But this is just a test, just a test...alright, let’s see what we’ve got here...

Perhaps I put stuff in the first container, and shake it through the tube? But no, that would be pointless, even if it would be cool to see stuff slide down that spiral...he did give me a burner, though, so I must have to heat something. So I just...let it evaporate inside that, and go down the spiral? But isn’t evaporation just water vapor, not the stuff inside? I can’t think of any other options, though...

Tristan began to sweat slightly, noticing Pombe’s expectant gaze. He went forward to the ingredients and sized them up, choosing at random a vial of liquid, a pinch of something that was ground up, and a dried leaf. He mixed the solids in with the liquid, uncorked the hole, and poured them down. Finally, he corked the hole again, lit the burner, and set the burner underneath the container.

Please don’t blow up...please don’t blow up...actually, blow up! Blowing up means I did something at least! Nothing interesting is going to happen, and he’s going to say I’m not meant for this, and what the Hell kind of test is this, and I’m so doooomed!

Tristan’s worry steadily increased as he dumbly stared at the process he set in motion, feeling the need to do something with his hands but not finding anything to do. So, he just stood there, occasionally shifting his gaze to either Pombe or the now stonefaced Shauku, and otherwise intently staring at what he started. He willed something to happen, hoping that he would get lucky, and something finally did.

The liquid began to boil, changing color as it did from a murky yellow to a bright green. Vapors lifted up, coalescing at the top of the container and slowly finding their way down the spiral, where they formed into tiny droplets and began the slow spiral downwards. As the liquid continued down the spiral, presumably cooling, it changed in color once more, this time to a dark orange.

Something’s happening! Something’s actually happening! And wow, those are some vivid, distinct colors! Alright, what am I supposed to do next?

Tristan looked around the table, finding an empty flask. He put the flask to the exit of the tube, waiting impatiently for the liquid to finally stop coming. As an afterthought he turned off the burner, and finally had his result. He then presented his concoction to Pombe, who took it in his hoof, and waited breathlessly for the verdict.

Pombe swirled the liquid around, eyed it knowingly, and took a deep whiff from it. Then, he swiftly poured the contents down a nearby sink.

Crap.

“That formula was completely mundane, no magical boons would be there to obtain,” Pombe began in an unreadable voice.

“But I tried to do something, and it changed color! I’ve never used one of those things before; don’t I at least get points for trying?” Tristan quickly defended, already devoid of much hope.

“I did not say that you had failed, in fact I never told you what the test entailed. You took a leap of faith, trying something new. That alone says quite a bit about what there is to know about you,” Pombe replied with an almost imperceptible grin. “Your training begins today, and my every instruction is yours to obey.”

Tristan took a moment to process the information and slow his pounding heart before stammering out his reply. “Th-thank you! I seriously thought you failed me for a moment there...I’ll do what I can to be a good student, I promise!”

“Very well, then allow me to take a short leave. There are some books we’ll need that I must retrieve,” Pombe replied, hobbling slowly off into another part of the house.

Tristan let out a great sigh, feeling the tension he didn’t know he was holding ease away. He took another look at the alchemy equipment and examined a few ingredients while he waited.

“Wow, you got the alembic on your first try, way to go!” Shauku suddenly exclaimed, startling Tristan, as he had forgotten the colt was even there.

“Oh, thanks! But he said I failed using it, didn’t he?” Tristan replied, making sure he didn’t knock anything over when he was startled.

“Yeah, you didn’t use the right ingredients, but you still used it right! Well, mostly right. Don’t let Grandpa scare you, he’s really nice when you get to know him. He just doesn’t get out much these days,” Shauku answered, examining a few alchemy ingredients himself. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine!”

“Heh, thanks. I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Tristan said, resisting the urge to fiddle with a device that looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie.

“Mom says you should always be supportive of your friends, so that’s what I try to be! Anyway, I think I hear grandpa coming back,” Shauku asserted, at which Pombe did indeed enter, a great stack of musty old books balanced precariously on his back.

“To begin your training, we must establish a strong foundation. So, you must learn of the magical theories that helped found a nation!” Pombe instructed, hefting the books onto the table and selecting one of them. “First you must understand why the reactants have the properties that they possess. Pay very close attention if you wish to have any sort of success.”

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With that Tristan’s training began, as he learned not only the practical applications of alchemy, but the theories behind it. He found that all things in Equestria are magical by nature, permeated by the ever present ambient magic that could be found everywhere. Certain types of materials absorbed certain types of magic in greater quantities and in different ways, giving otherwise mundane ingredients unique magical effects. He continued his lessons until sunset, at which point he left for the embassy, arriving before the others.

The entire week leading up to the expected parade went by in a similar fashion. Every day he would return to Pombe and Shauku, honing his alchemical skills until he had effectively mastered the basics and could progress to the more advanced practices, learning to use far more than just a simple pestle and mortar. He learned to refine ingredients in more varied ways and mix using distinct apparati, which allowed him to make potions with more subtle and complex properties, rather than the brute force single effect types he had made previously. While he was by no means a master, he turned out to be a prodigious and enthusiastic student and learned as much as Pombe had time to teach him, much to the delight of them both.

The others primarily stayed in the embassy, enjoying the time to relax. Their experience was that of a nice hotel, with their every need being waited upon. Food, books, sleep, and relaxation characterized their wait. This continued until Tristan’s training was finally as completed as it was going to be and the day of the parade was upon them. A messenger informed them that they were to be at the palace by sunrise, and Lore did not intend to disappoint.

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“No, no, leave your things here! We’ll be stopping by again before we leave the city, so there’s no point in dragging around those packs all day!” Lore chided Tristan, who grumbled and let his packs fall to the ground.

“I wanted to bring a snack, but alright...are we ready to go?” Tristan queried, earning a nod from Lore. “What are we going to be doing, anyway? Just walking in a line around the city?”

“I’m not quite sure; it’s likely to be something of that sort,” Lore replied. “Just do what you’re told, smile, wave, and we can put all this behind us. It will be so nice to get back to Equestria...I’ll admit, the stay here hasn’t been bad, but there’s nothing like seeing the sunrise from a tower in Canterlot.”

“I kinda wish we could stay, personally...Pombe says there’s a lot more I could learn, but we just don’t have the time,” Tristan said, pacing impatiently while they waited for Lore and Krik to emerge from their rooms. “He was nice enough to give me a few of his books, though. I’ll have to buy more equipment with the money I’ve got, but that’d be too hard to carry anyway.”

“Yes, fascinating...” Lore said inattentively. At that Krik, and shortly after, Noble, emerged from their rooms, ready to go.

“You two just remember to keep your guards up today, you hear? If anything is going to happen it’ll be during the parade, so don’t get too relaxed,” Noble asserted, still unable to trust the zebras.

“Oh come on, they’ve been nothing but nice so far,” Tristan rebuked. “The king and queen, Pombe, Shauku...they’re a lot nicer than most of the ponies I’ve met! Lighten up a bit, will you?”

“I’m not saying anything is going to happen, I’m just saying something might happen. And it’s my job to keep you lot safe, so trust me on this, will you?” Noble said. Tristan just shrugged, while Krik stood as impassive as ever.

“You should do what he says. It’s his job, after all,” Lore chimed in. “At any rate, the sun will be up soon, so we need to get moving!”

At that the group was off, travelling the now somewhat familiar main road to the palace. A few zebras were out this early, but most had heard about or seen Tristan and Krik already so their reactions to seeing them wandering about were a great deal milder than before.

They finally made it up to the palace, and were surprised by what they saw. On top of two large wooden wheeled platforms stood giant statues of both Tristan and Krik, seemingly made of clay and painted over to look like them. The statue of Tristan was in the pose of a cheery wave, and Krik’s looked to be in peaceful meditation.

“Woah...” was all Tristan could muster, as he saw himself ten feet tall. “...When did they find time to make this? And with what reference? And does my hair really look like that?”

Krik stared impassively at his statue, walking around it in inspection. “The craftsmanship is nothing compared to that of a formian, but it will suffice. It is...odd, to have such a vain object in my likeness.”

“Seriously though, where did they get the reference for these? I’m a little creeped out now...” Tristan commented, only to be ignored. From the palace came the king and queen, both dressed in decadent bright clothing, along with a company of guards.

“It is good to see that you have made it; rising so early is much to your credit!” the king exclaimed cheerily. “The day is upon us, and the parade is prepared. Go stand on your platforms now, don’t be scared!”

Tristan took a last look at Lore and Noble, who each gave him half-shrugs. With that he clamored atop the wooden platform, finding it to have plenty of space for him to stand, while Krik went to stand upon his own.

“The band will be here soon; their leader is just making sure they are in tune. After that you’ll be taken through the city streets, to the sound of their marching drum beats!” the king continued, obviously excited for the day.

“What should we be doing, then?” Lore queried.

“You may do as you please, whatever may put you two at ease! March alongside the parade, or join the crowd wherever they may be arrayed!” the king answered, spying the band and galloping off to meet them.

“We apologize for our abruptness,” the queen said, barely audible over the now playing band. “It is very exciting to have a break from this whole mess.”

“I understand...if it’s all well and good with you then, I believe Noble and I will walk with the procession,” Lore commented, at which both Noble and the queen nodded their agreement.

Little time was wasted as the parade began, with the band heading it, followed by Tristan and Krik, and finally a float that the king and queen sat upon. The crowds had formed rather quickly on the streets and several vendors were taking advantage of the situation to sell snacks, and an announcer was positioned to herald the entire event.

It began very awkwardly for Tristan as they began to move, and he spent the first bit of it just leaning against his statue, taking in the sights around him. Hundreds of eyes were affixed on him, showing a myriad of emotion ranging from disgust to joy. The announcer continually went on and on about how their sacrifice was not for nothing, and that they were finally justified in their choice. Some zebras took quite well to it, while others didn’t seem as enthusiastic.

Eventually Tristan got in the swing of things, the band’s music stirring him to move, and he began to wave to the crowd a bit. He noticed that they did indeed respond to him, reacting quite positively at his friendly gestures. Before long the spirit of the event got into him and he actually began having a little fun. Looking over to Krik he saw that while Krik wasn’t quite as enthusiastic, he was indeed waving, though with a slightly colder reception.

Noble and Lore were right in front of their floats the entire time, right in front of the zebras that were pulling them, scanning the crowd and looking uncomfortable. However, no danger presented itself, and they made it to the halfway mark of the parade without any troubles and turned around.

As they slowly made their way back to the palace a bit of commotion started ahead of them, in the crowd. Several zebra were screaming for help, encircled around a fallen member of the crowd. The guards, including Noble, all rushed to the area to see what happened, and Tristan’s mood burst. Suddenly he felt that something really bad was going to happen, and he felt a small prick on his neck. His hand shot to the area and found a blow dart sticking in, which he immediately pulled out.

No, this was...going too well. It figures that...dammit...can’t even...think...

Tristan’s vision turned hazy as the crowd began to panic, frightened screams coming from all directions. He started to get dizzy, trying to steady himself on the statue but failing and falling to the hard wood beneath him, as he rapidly lost control of his muscles. He vaguely saw his limbs spasming as his senses dulled, until all was numb.

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Tristan awoke with a start from his bed at the embassy, getting dressed and putting on his armor automatically. He looked outside his window to see the dark of night outside, with spotted lights around the city, as well as a great deal of tiny lights in the distance, beyond the wall. Without thinking he sheathed his sword and left the room, heading for the outskirts of the city.

“The time has finally come. Join your brethren and be welcomed, cast off the chains of tyranny these ponies have cast upon you! The time to act has been so long in coming, and you know you have wished it to be,” the strange deep voice that had been ever present in Tristan’s dreams bellowed, although the ground did not shake as usual. By this point obedience was automatic, and the thought to question the voice didn’t even occur to Tristan.

He made his way out of the city gate and began hearing horns bellow in the night, coming from the wall. The horns ended abruptly as screams were heard and quickly silenced. He paid these distractions no heed, and walked through the now opening city gate.

Before him lay the most varied conglomeration of creatures that Tristan had ever seen, but he felt no fear at their presence. Every shape and build imaginable was lined up around the city walls, and very few creatures bore any resemblance to any others, save for a few scattered patches of like beings. He walked fearlessly up to them and stood at their head, and they made no move towards him.

He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but before long a familiar shape emerged from the city gate. The sounds of panic were beginning in the city as Krik strode towards the group, not greeting Tristan but coming to stand by his side. Every creature was still, and then the voice roared out with the force of an earthquake. “ATTACK!”

With that the entire army moved as one, flowing like water through the city gate and over the walls. Tristan led them, rushing through the gate to see zebra guards arrayed against them, and cut through all in his path. It was as all the dreams before, the power, the euphoria, the carnage. Neither mother nor foal was left stirring in the army’s wake.

Tristan found himself getting closer and closer to the palace, mouth salivating at the prospect of killing royalty. He ran faster and faster until he almost flew, and was blinded by a sudden white light.

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Tristan awoke to darkness, spluttering and coughing on a cot, muscles tense and unresponsive. He felt a thick mist on his skin, coalescing to liquid and running down his face. No blankets covered him, and he found himself to be stark naked, with the feeling of moisture all over his body. A strange smell that he couldn’t place, no matter how hard he tried, permeated the air and stung his nostrils. His thoughts, hazy to begin with, rapidly returned to lucidity, as the heavy feeling in his limbs melted away.

“H-hello? Is anyone there?” Tristan hesitantly asked, not daring to move lest he hit something in the dark. Some sounds came from his left, and a ray of blinding light came from that direction, temporarily disorienting him.

“It seems my treatment has taken, it has finally caused him to awaken!” Pombe’s voice exclaimed. Commotion came from behind the veil and a thick curtain was drawn, exposing his enclosure to the outside. A thick mist rolled like fog out from it, and Tristan’s mind finally resumed normal functioning. Arrayed by his cot in what he recognized was Pombe’s house were Noble, Lore, and Pombe, though Krik was noticeably absent.

Tristan coughed again, hacking and spluttering until he felt his throat was clear. “What...what the Hell just happened? Did someone just try to kill me? And why am I naked?” he demanded, covering his indecency.

“Calm down, we’re all stallions here,” Noble replied dismissively.

“Pombe here said it was something that needed to be done...something about your pores needing as much exposure to the mist as possible, correct?” Lore informed him, at which Pombe nodded. “If it wasn’t for him you’d be dead!”

“Lovely. Tell me, why is it that every single time I have a task to do I get knocked out, one way or another? You haven’t gotten knocked out, Lore, nothing bad happens to others. Have you even gotten hurt? I mean, come on!” Tristan exclaimed, forgetting his nakedness and gesturing angrily with his hands, before quickly covering himself up again.

“Keen died,” Noble deadpanned grimly, at which he turned around and left the room.

Tristan was silent for a moment, as were Pombe and Lore. “...Right, sorry. What hit me, though? Did you get whoever did it?” he said, abruptly changing the subject

“No, we didn’t...” Lore informed sadly. “They tried to get Krik as well, but the dart just bounced off him. We’re going to be leaving first thing in the morning, and the king and queen have assigned extra guards to us as part of their apology for this. The situation is...complicated.”

Tristan simply sighed and lay his damp head back onto the cot. “Let’s just go, then...after this, I think I’m done with all this crap. I got some money; I might be able to make a bit more money with potions, and Celestia owes me big time. One of these times I’m not going to get lucky, and I’m just going to get myself killed, if I keep this up...” he said solemnly. Lore looked on without a rebuttal, his stance neutral but his eyes betraying inner conflict.

“...Well, we can talk about all that once we’re safe back in Canterlot. Thank you again for all your help, Pombe,” Lore said, beginning to pace around the room.

“Yeah, thanks, Pombe. Looks like you saved me back there...between that and the training you’ve given me, not to mention the books, I owe you a lot. Just...thanks,” Tristan added, craning his neck towards Pombe.

“You are most welcome for my aid, but do remember I am quite handsomely paid,” Pombe replied with a smirk. “The gold that I’ve accrued has left my retirement fund quite renewed!”

“Heh, glad to hear it. By the way, Lore...can I get my pants back, please? If you ponies and zebras like running around in the buff all the time I’m not going to judge, but that’s just not my kinda thing,” Tristan said, stretching his muscles luxuriously and finding them already back in order.

Lore trotted off and returned with Tristan’s clothes, which he awkwardly put on while the others looked away. After he was dressed he attempted to stand, finding absolutely no difficulty in doing so. “You sure know your stuff, Pombe...whatever that dart had on it, it’s out now!”

Pombe simply smiled and nodded his head sleepily. “I am quite glad that you are alright, but I do believe it’s time for me to call it a night. I doubt that I will see you again before you leave, but just remember that I believe in what you may achieve.”

“Thanks, Pombe. Goodnight, and goodbye,” Tristan responded, at which Pombe left them. Tristan leaned over in Lore’s direction as Pombe was leaving and loudly whispered. “Err...it is night, right? How long have I been out?”

“It’s been a while, and it is indeed night. We should head back to the embassy now; there are two guards waiting outside to escort us. Better get some rest before the long journey ahead, after all,” Lore replied, giving a long yawn.

“Right, we should. Lead the way,” Tristan agreed, at which they left Pombe’s home. Noble was nowhere to be seen, assumedly already heading back to the embassy, and the two guards they had weren’t much for conversation. Before long they arrived at their destination and after packing for their journey in the morning both retired to their rooms for the night.

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“Awaken, Tristan. The time has come,” the strange voice spoke, stirring Tristan from his slumber. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing out the window to see that it was still night.

That voice...I must be dreaming! But everything is so clear, that’s odd. Usually everything is a bit of a haze, and I can’t think clearly. This must be a lucid dream, then! Alright voice, let’s see what you’ve got planned!

Tristan obeyed the voice, rising from his bed, putting on his armor, equipping his sword, and even putting on the packs he had prepared for the morning. “Alright, now what?” he said aloud, finding the idea of being able to disobey the voice if he so chose rather humorous.

“Go now to the room of your oppressor. Cast off your chains, and prepare yourself for the war to come!” the voice echoed deeply.

“Right, go to Lore’s room...I follow yah, I follow yah...” Tristan said, waltzing over to Lore’s door and opening it. Inside, Lore was fast asleep, oblivious to Tristan’s presence.

“Slice his throat before you leave, and free yourself from your bonds!” the voice commanded menacingly.

Tristan slowly walked up to Lore’s bed, slowly raised his sword high above him, and promptly burst out laughing. “Alright, alright, I can’t do this any more. Screw you, voice, you’re not my real dad! I don’t have to listen to you!”

At that Lore awoke with a start, to see Tristan clasping his sword, laughing by his bed. “Wh-what are you doing? Why are you in your armor? What’s going on?” he questioned.

“Shut up Lore, in this dream I don’t have to listen to you or Mr. Evil Voice,” Tristan responded passively, contemplating whether he should attempt flying or shooting lasers from his eyes first.

“A dream? What in Equestria are you-” Lore began, silenced as Tristan’s body involuntarily gave a violent jerk towards him.

“You will OBEY! Strike him down!” the voice demanded.

“Wha-what? Hey, lay off!” Tristan exclaimed, jerking his body back away from Lore and testing his limbs to see if he had control, which he did.

“Who are you talking to? Oh no, it must be that poison...just wait here, I’ll get help!” Lore said worriedly, getting up to leave.

“No, no, it’s cool, I have this under control, I just need to-” Tristan said, cut off by the door flinging open.

“Lore, I can’t-” Krik began, seeing Tristan standing casually in the room in full battle gear. “Tristan! Lore, Tristan and I need-” he said, being cut off by Tristan.

“Blah blah blah, I know we’re supposed to meet outside the gate or something, that’s not going to happen. I’ve got control of this dream now, so you can just do whatever it is you were going to without me!” Tristan interrupted, walking towards the door. Krik immediately slapped him in the face, with such power that it nearly knocked him to the ground. “Ah, damn, what the Hell, Krik? That hurt!” Tristan exclaimed, rubbing his face where the painful strike had hit him. “Wait...”

“Enough games! Either you will obey freely, or I will MAKE you obey!” the voice yelled out, as Tristan felt himself drop into a combat position.

“Uh...guys...help!” Tristan cried out, at he made an involuntary swing at Lore, which was dodged. He tried fighting the influence with all of his might but found himself powerless to stop it at he sent swing after swing at Lore, who was soon backed into a wall. Noble, apparently hearing the commotion, burst into the room and immediately tackled Tristan to the ground, who struggled to get back up.

“What’s going on here?” Noble questioned, his voice taking on the tone of a very angry father.

“I don’t know, Tristan just-” Lore began, to be cut off by Krik.

“He’s under the control of a malevolent force, and there’s likely an attack coming upon the city!” Krik yelled, his composure suddenly lost for the first time since any of them had know him. Tristan felt a sudden burst of strength that was not his own and flung Noble off, immediately righting himself in a combative stance once more. As if on cue the sound of deep horns rang out in the night one by one, all over the city.

Krik didn’t waste any time in reacting, as his stinger quickly flashed towards Tristan, striking him in the leg. “Ah, crap that hurts!” Tristan yelled, falling back on the ground, writhing in pain. His leg went numb almost immediately, soon followed by the rest of his body, and he found himself conscious but unable to move a muscle, save for his eyes.

“You fragile, pathetic thing! Serve me!” the voice commanded, though Tristan was still unable to move.

“Krik, you need to tell us what’s going on, now!” Lore demanded, as Noble bent over Tristan to check his vitals.

“There’s no time, this place is not going to be safe very quickly! We need to leave the city immediately!” Krik exclaimed in a voice that invited no argument. Noble and Lore looked at him for a second before obeying, both grabbing their packs, with Noble slinging Tristan over his back. The whole experience was rather disorienting for Tristan, as he felt like a conscious rag doll with no control over his own movements.

Screams echoed outside the window as the group hurried down the stairs, finding the bottom floor to be deserted. As they burst out into the streets they saw no less than a hundred zebra in full battle gear charging towards the city gate to the north, where most of the commotion seemed to be coming from.

“If they’re taking the north gate, we’re taking the south gate, the one we came in by,” Lore assessed, leading the others through an ever thickening crowd of panicking zebras. “You had damn well better have a good reason for all of this, Krik, but I’ll just trust you for now!”

“If I’m correct an entire army of rift spawn is at that gate, far greater than anything this city could defend against. I do wish to fight them, but even I know there is a time to flee!” Krik hastily informed the others as they ran.

“How do you know all this?” Noble questioned accusingly, pausing for a split-second to readjust Tristan on his back.

“I saw it in a dream; it’s very complicated. Given the circumstances, you must just do as I say!” Krik replied shortly.

They continued running, finding that the majority of the crowd had no idea what to do, and were simply standing around speaking to one another in hushed voices. “Wait! Waaaaaait!” a high voice yelled, which they paid no attention to. “Tristan! Wait up!” it cried again, which gained their attention.

A small zebra colt caught up to them, panting and sweating from the exertion of his sprint. “What...happened to...Tristan?” he questioned between deep breaths of air.

“Who are you?” Lore queried bemusedly.

“I’m Shauku, Pombe’s grandson!” he said, finally having caught his breath. “I can’t find my parents, or my grandpa! You have to help me find them!” he exclaimed, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

“Little one, there’s no time for that. This city is doomed, and we need to leave now!” Krik informed him, oblivious to the child’s emotions. With that Shauku began to bawl, and several zebras that heard what Krik said panicked further.

“We can’t just leave him here!” Lore said, sweat running from his brow.

“We’ll take him with us then, but we need to go!” Krik said, hefting the squirming colt under his arm. “Let’s go!”

Amid the frightened cries from Shauku to stop they continued forward, reaching the gate and finding it closed shut. Two zebra guards stood by it, doing their best to calm the fears of the crowd that had amassed outside the gate. They were refusing to open the gate for any, for fear of letting in possible enemies. The crowd was growing unruly, as some civilians began throwing objects at the overwhelmed guards.

A harsh screeching sound came from the top of the wall, near where the opening mechanism was. By the light of a nearby torch they saw a grotesque looking winged beast bite the head off the guard who attended the gate in a single movement, and then land and proceed to open the gate. The other guards could do nothing to stop it, and began to panic.

The gate slowly swung open, revealing a horde, lesser than the one Tristan had seen in his dreams but still great in number, of all manner of creatures standing in a line. As the gate opened the civilians panicked and ran every which way, screaming as if their lives depended upon doing so.

“We need to make it past them, don’t run in fear!” Krik commanded, seeing Noble staring at the oncoming forces without flinching, though Lore was beginning to get unnerved.

They wasted no time, and with prompting from Krik charged towards the side of the gate, as the horde rushed in. Most things ignored them, and the few lesser monstrosities that came after them were swiftly dealt with by Krik’s stinger, Lore’s magic, and Noble’s hammer. Shauku had by this time passed out from the barrage of overwhelming emotions and physical stresses, and was now lying limp under Krik’s arm.

They managed to squeeze around the bulk of the oncoming forces, and found themselves almost to the road. Several guards rushed to and fro around them, attempted to fight off any forces they possibly could, but for the most part they were getting slaughtered. Before they could escape the carnage a terrifying roar rang out, and they saw a rift spawn charging straight for them.

The spawn had a purplish chitinous shell, like that that covered beetles, which was incredibly spikey and ridged all over it. It stood at least eight feet tall and had four dangerous looking mandibles lining its mouth, which was lined with spiked glistening teeth itself. It walked upon two bird-like legs, which were also covered in the same plates as the rest of it, but most frightening of all were its arms. Each ended in a long scythe-like protrusion, one of which was already covered in gore. All four of its unblinking bug-like eyes were transfixed on the party as it charged at them at great speed.

Lore and Noble, knowing they were outmatched, both made a break for the trees beside the road. Tristan saw Krik stay where he was, either unable or unwilling to follow them. He set Shauku on the ground behind him and readied a combat stance to meet the beast head on. Noble and Lore stopped just short of the trees, yelling at Krik to follow them, but he didn’t.

The monster finally closed the distance with Krik and swung one of it’s scythe-like appendages at him, finding no purchase as Krik deftly ducked under the swipe. Krik was as a whirlwind around the monster, avoiding its every slice as he stung it again and again with his stinger, each eliciting a roar of pain from it. It all seemed to be going well until a single slice pre-empted his dodge and met him, slicing one of his arms clean off and causing blood to spurt uncontrollably from the stub.

Despite his injury Krik fought on, screaming out his challenge to the beast the whole time. Unlike previous foes, however, Krik’s poison seemed to have little effect, and its movements weren’t noticeably slowed at all. The profuse bleeding slowed to a leak and stopped altogether from Krik’s stump, but he seemed to be making no progress in his fight. Noble and Lore just watched helplessly as other battles between guards and spawn passed between them and Krik’s fight.

Suddenly, the beast roared out in pain, and a strange green sizzling liquid began running down its back. Tristan saw two glass vials filled with unknown liquids soar through the air, each finding their mark on the beast as they shattered, causing it to roar in pain. Krik took the opportunity to jump on its head for an attack, but quickly dismounted as the strange liquid began to burn him as well.

“Get away from that beast, before you become its feast!” Pombe’s voice cried out, as the old zebra ran with surprising dexterity to the battle. “Get my grandson out of here; this fight’s victor is unclear!” he yelled, flinging another vial from his belt at the infuriated creature. Krik said nothing, glanced at Shauku’s limp form, and ran to pick him up. Tristan saw the monster charge at Pombe, who dodged to the side but was nicked by the blade, drawing a small amount of blood.

Krik grabbed Shauku and ran to the others, ignoring all of the battles going on around him. As he caught up to the others they ran into the forest, and the last thing Tristan saw of the battle was Pombe valiantly holding his own against the spawn. If he could have cried out to his teacher, he would have.

They rushed through the thick undergrowth of the forest, none looking back save for Tristan, who didn’t have any choice in where he looked. They eventually made their way to the main path, a good bit away from the city, and stopped to catch their breath.

“You will come to serve me yet. Your life is no longer your own, your body lives to serve ME!” the voice, silent for a while, suddenly rang out in Tristan’s mind. He did his best to ignore it, but noticed that now even the movements of his eyes was no longer under his control, as he stared at the others. He longed to tell them what was happening so that they might help, but had no way of doing so.

A minute passed with them each just panting, exhausted from the adrenaline and exertion of their run. Tristan noticed that something was amiss with Krik, or rather, that someone was not amiss with Krik. Though he saw his arm sliced off in the fight and knew it still lay where it fell, Krik had both of his arms fully intact. The only evidence that anything had happened was that the arm he had lost looked to be strangely glossy, as if wet. Neither Noble nor Lore commented on it, though they did turn to face Krik.

“Answers. Now,” Noble demanded, staring Krik in the eye.

“Very well...I suppose there’s no choice in the matter,” Krik began solemnly. “I suppose I should start from the beginning. Shortly after meeting you, I began to have disturbing dreams. In them, a malevolent force commanded me to act against my nature, killing ponies without reason, and I was powerless to stop it from controlling me. Such dreams are unheard of in my people, and I was at a loss as to what to do about them.”

“When Tristan recovered, I sought him out, as telling ponies that I, a creature they feared, was having dreams of killing them did not seem to be an advisable course. I found that he was having similar dreams, which pointed to an outside force causing them, but we did not know what to do about it.”

“Just this last night I had a dream of an army of rift spawn coming here, and myself joining that force alongside Tristan. Upon awakening I found the voice still echoing in my head, as it had never done before outside a dream. It commanded me, and attempted to force me to do as it wished, but the unforgiving mental training I underwent from the moment I ceased to be a pupae allowed me to fight it off without much trouble. I went to Tristan’s room to speak to him of it and found him absent, and then to Lore’s room to speak to him. You know the rest,” he finished, setting the still unconscious Shauku on the ground.

“That is troubling...very troubling indeed,” Lore said, worried. “You should have come to us sooner. We might have been able to help determine why that voice, as you call it, was plaguing you.”

“If we had come to you, would you have still allowed us the freedom that you did?” Krik asked knowingly. Lore and Noble were silent, each just staring at the ground. “But that’s in the past, now. It seems poor Tristan could not fight for dominance as well as I, and lost his battle. Even now he hears us, paralyzed by my poison, clearly not in control of his own actions should he stir.”

“Well we can’t help him all the way out here; we need to get him to Canterlot. We also need to warn everypony about what happened, so that the same thing doesn’t happen on Equestrian soil,” Lore said, gazing down the moonlit path. “Time is of the essence, and I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of making this an easy journey. We need to move non stop until we reach the train.”

The others agreed and, after tying up Tristan should he regain control of his limbs, trudged onwards down the path. They took few breaks and walked from the sunrise to the sunset, their determination their only fuel to keep them going. Eventually Shauku woke up and cried for a while for the assumed death of his family, until he eventually fell right back asleep on Krik’s back. Tristan could feel his extremities begin to move slightly, testing their power, before falling still once more. He was still being controlled, but it seemed his puppet master knew it was best to not make a scene just yet.

They finally made it to the train station, luckily catching the last train before it left. The train personnel were confused at their presence but Lore just waved them away with his identification before collapsing and instantly falling asleep the moment he got to his seat. The others fared no better, and the party, including Tristan, slept.

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The train arrived in Canterlot early the next morning, jarring each of them awake. Tristan found he had full use of his body again, or rather, the force controlling him did. However, it did not make him move, and seemed content to keep him limp, unable to speak. Noble immediately left the train with Shauku, to find him a place to go and to warn the other guards. Krik and Lore went straight to the castle, with Tristan bound on Lore’s back.

They got a great deal of strange looks as they went through town but neither of them said anything, pressing forward to the castle. It seemed that Noble’s word had reached the guards already as they weren’t questioned at the entrance, and they made their way directly to the throne room. A mass of irritated ponies stood outside the closed door to the throne room, muttering about being kicked out when they had appointments. The guard at the door let Krik and Lore in, closing it shut behind them.

Inside of the room sat Celestia in her usual place, looking worried. “What is all this about a threat, and mobilized rift spawn? And why is Tristan tied up?” Celestia asked them worriedly.

“Your highness,” Lore said, giving a curt bow. “We have dire news from Zebrica. The capital was overrun by rift spawn, apparently being controlled or motivated in some way. Something is organizing them, and it’s affecting Tristan!” he said, his usual fear at speaking to her forgotten with the urgency.

“Oh my...how was the city faring when you last saw it?” Celestia queried, concerned.

“...Not well, your highness. I doubt many made it out,” Lore responded sadly, his head drooping down. “There was nothing we could do, we just had to...run.”

Celestia looked sadly upon them before speaking. “You did what you needed to do, and no blame rests upon your shoulders. However, this news is terribly troubling. If the rift spawn have indeed formed into one force, few armies in Equestria could possibly stand against them.”

“What are we supposed to do with Tristan?” Lore asked, hefting Tristan into a sitting position on the ground. “Krik was able to fight off the influence, but Tristan apparently has no control over himself now. He needs help.”

“Bring him to his room, and I’ll see to it that he gets the help he needs. Until then, please leave me, there are some matters I need to attend to,” Celestia said, standing up.

“Yes, of course...” Lore said, biting his tongue to stop from rambling on about his thoughts on the matter to the princess. The three left, with Tristan now being carried by a stone faced guard, and went to his room. There the guard deposited Tristan on his bed, informed the others that guards would be stationed outside the door should they need them, and left.

Lore let out a loud groan and flopped into a chair, covering his eyes with his hooves. “I have got to have the most stressful job in Equestria right now...it’s a miracle my mane isn’t turning grey yet...” he said, visibly attempting to ease the tension from his body.

“An easy life is hardly worth living,” Krik said thoughtfully, glancing over to Tristan and making eye contact. “My poison should have worn off by now; he must have a weaker constitution than I imagined.” At that Tristan screamed within his head that he was physically capable of moving but couldn’t move anything even an inch, no matter how hard he tried. While he was able to fight the control at first it was now absolute, and he might as well have been the insubstantial voice within his head.

“Tristan, if you can hear me, we’re going to do everything we can to help you out of this. Just keep fighting it, alright? You’ll pull through,” Lore said, sitting up straighter and attempting to look reassuring. “Some of the greatest magical minds in the world are in Canterlot; if they can’t fix you then nopony can.

Krik and Lore continued to talk for a few hours, before Lore left to attend to some business. Krik opted to stay by Tristan’s side, keeping him company even though he might as well have been a vegetable. In time night came and Krik stayed in Tristan’s room, slumbering beside his bed. At one point Tristan wet himself, as he was unable to use the restroom, but Krik didn’t seem to notice. Eventually sleep took him as well, and he slept a dreamless sleep.

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“Good news, everypony!” Lore exclaimed, bursting through Tristan’s door and waking him up in the process. “I brought a visitor that may be able to help!”

He walked inside, followed by a haggard looking brown unicorn, who had a white mane and mark of the sun rising over the horizon. The unicorn looked around the room, his eyes lighting up as he saw Krik and Tristan, though he didn’t make any move towards them.

“Krik, and Tristan if you can hear me, meet Bright Future!” Lore exclaimed. When Krik didn’t have any reaction, and of course Tristan had none, he sighed. “You know...the one who created the portals in the first place, that started all this? One of the foremost researchers into the rifts?”

“So it was because of you that I am here,” Krik said evenly, seemingly sizing the unicorn up.

“Yes, and it was because of me that many have died...I don’t need reminding at this point; I’m very well aware,” Future replied in a defeated tone. “I’m doing all I can to right the wrong I caused, and I believe I can help you. Will you please let me try?”

Before Krik could answer Lore interjected. “You know it was an accident, and accidents happen. If there’s any pony that can help you with this, it’d be him. I daresay he knows more about your situation than I do!”

Krik was silent, just looking on at the two. With a nervous cough Future trotted forward to Krik, and his horn began to glow. At that Krik dropped into a defensive stance, stinger at the ready. Future’s horn went out and he stumbled backward, as he let out a small cry.

“Krik! He’s just going to try to help! Or do you want to have a voice trying to tell you what to do inside your head for the rest of your life?” Lore admonished, helping Future back up to his feet.

“I can understand, please, don’t get upset on my account,” Future said in the same melancholy voice. “It was my mistake, not explaining what I was doing.”

“Oh yes; it’s fascinating!” Lore exclaimed before Future could continue, the enthusiasm in his voice a foil to the deadness of Future’s. “You see, rift spawn, unlike everything that originated in Equestria, are not connected to Equestria’s innate magical field. We’ve known about that for a while, but we didn’t think it really meant anything, save for a small insignificant things. But we got to thinking...”

At that Future interrupted, attempting to take back the conversation. “We got to thinking, as Lore was saying, that your disconnection with the magical field might be what’s causing your problems. It makes sense, as this force has only been shown to affect rift spawn, but why wouldn’t it try to control those native to this world if it’s so powerful? So, the field may very well be be a natural barrier to its influence,” he finished, a little bit of flame now evident in his voice, beneath the defeatedness.

“So you wish to connect me to this field? How?” Krik asked, whatever emotions he may have been feeling hidden completely.

“I believe I may be able to do it with a spell I developed, but it will take a while,” Future began. “I will not lie to you, however...it’s completely untested, and I have no idea if it will work, or if it’s even safe. If you don’t want me to try, I understand.”

Krik looked at him for a moment, then to Tristan, before nodding his head and responding. “Very well, do it.”

Future walked up to Krik and sat before him, his horn glowing once more and his face scrunched up in concentration. Small tendrils of light came from the glowing aura of his horn and made their way around Krik, at times piercing his shell. If Krik felt any pain at the process, he did not show it. After about a half an hour of continuous casting a final burst of magic expanded from Future’s horn and enveloped Krik completely before dying out.

Future shook his head, rubbing his temples with a hoof. “Did it work?” he asked tiredly.

Krik waited a moment, not moving a muscle. “Yes...the voice is gone, I can’t hear it any more! It may have simply silenced itself, but I don’t think so...it felt as if something heavy was leaving my mind; it is difficult to explain,” he said happily. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, my pleasure...” Future said, though no joy was evident in his voice. “Now, for the other one...” He walked towards Tristan, sitting before the bed. His horn began to glow once more, the same tendrils of light creeping towards Tristan’s form.

Without warning, Tristan did the best he could to lunge himself at Future, unable to stop himself from doing so. “This one belongs to ME!” Tristan roared in what was still noticeably his voice, but a deeper and more menacing version of it. He wormed in his restraints, teeth gnashing at the startled unicorn who was now lying on the floor, and did all that he could to harm Future.

Lore’s magical aura wrapped around Tristan, slamming him into the bed and holding him there. “I suppose the poison did wear off after all!” Lore commented, looking at Tristan in a mixture of fear and pity. Tristan had devolved into an animal at this point, thrashing and letting out what sounded like some sort of a growl, but making no progress in getting out of his restraints. “Future, do it!” Lore instructed, at which Future obliged.

The same process happened once more, while Tristan fought against it the entire way. At the end, when the bright flash of light happened, Tristan felt a gigantic weight leave his mind, as it felt like every trouble he’d ever had washed away in a single moment. His limbs fell limp, and he was still.

“Screw that guy...” Tristan said softly, feeling the exhaustion from a half hour of continuous violent thrashing setting in.

“You’re you! Right?” Lore said, trotting over to Tristan’s side.

“Yeah, I’m me. That was, without a doubt, the worst experience in my entire life. Being a prisoner in your own body, it’s just...” Tristan said, unable to finish. His entire body felt drained, and he lacked the energy to do anything.

Future seemed to be in the same boat, as he fell panting to the floor, exerted. “That’s that, then...” he said, picking himself back up with wobbly legs.

“Thank you again for your help, Future,” Krik said, as Tristan nodded his agreement. “I wish you the best of luck in...whatever it is that you do. And I would enjoy speaking with you soon.”

“I’ll take you along the next time we do lunch, if that’s fine with you,” Lore said, looking at Future. Future nodded his assent and said his goodbyes, then left.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to sleep, then,” Lore said, turning to leave as well. “And about the bindings, they’ll stay on for one more night, just to make sure. We’ll talk more in the morning, as I’m pretty tired myself.”

With that Lore left the room, and Tristan looked outside the window to see that it was indeed still night. “You staying in here, Krik?” Tristan said, his thoughts hard to organize in his rapidly deteriorating state of exhaustion.

“I believe it would be a pertinent idea, if only for tonight. As Lore said, we shall speak more in the morning. Goodnight, Tristan,” Krik replied, folding his legs beneath him in preparation for his own sleep.

“‘Night...” Tristan said, as sleep took him.

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Tristan was walking to school with Eric as they had many times before, musing on the small things in life. The walk seemed to take much longer than usual, as they wound corner after corner, though neither seemed to notice. It was as if the entire world revolved around their walk, and it was fated to never end.

Tristan closed his eyes for a moment as he laughed at a joke Eric had told, and when he opened them Eric had disappeared and the scenery had changed. Instead of the scenic route they took to school, he was in his neighborhood, near where he used to play as a child. No cars passed by in the street, no birds sang, and no other sounds could be heard. The silence was getting to Tristan, who slowly began to walk towards where he knew his home was.

The sun began to lower abnormally fast, and before long it was fully night. Tristan hurried along the path which seemed to get longer and longer as he ran down it, until he broke into a full sprint. Then, a voice was heard, coming from the darkness behind the bushes that lined a house.

“So we finally meet, Tristan Davis. It is a pleasure to see you at last,” an unfamiliar feminine voice rang out.

Comments

[Morphy]

So, he finally meets Luna in his dreamscape?

[JeffNunchucks]

Damn, that was long, but well worth the time.

[Raistlin]

You know, in the previous chapter when Tristan is asked about his opinion regarding ponykind, I was expecting him pointing at least how a race who prides himself of living according to harmony and friendship, falls so easily into racism, or more accurately, speciesism, and not only regarding the "rift spawns", but zebras, griffins, etc.. Maybe as a consequence of the "herd mentality".

I mean, one of the most important aspects in a HiE fic should be the comparation between the human and pony respective point of views. Nothing like a foreign to show you about the parts of your culture you rarely think about, either the good thing you take for granted (like magic or harmony) or the bad stuff you consider "normal" (xenophobia).
This encounter with Luna could be a good moment to introduce this element, don´t you agree?

P.E: by the way, nice job forming Tristan into an alchemist. Another opportunity to display the human´s resourcefulness (Tristan: by the way, have you ever try to use magic to split an atom and see what happens? )

cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/903350/Chresan_Chesaad.JPG

[Fiery Knight]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I hate ryhming
so do you!

[AggroViking]

damn this was a mega chapter, but well worth it, it seems. Tristan's luck is getting better it seems, what with him surviving a fatal poison and having an evil entity purged from his conscience.

[AnormalUnicornPony]

Uh hum... WHAT is going on!!!!!!!!! AYHHHHHHHHHH-YAHHHHHHHHH!!!! Seriously though I like to be kept guessing. Please just no super bad names for the bad guy? If it IS super bad... at least make it sound cool... like Lord Bow tie of Oblivion! Or Steve! Or even Eq-wilnupolex!

Otherwise nice story, I DO in all actuality of my boring existence like to be kept guessing.

[Alondro]

2497718 Uhm, that is my point. The shoot on sight policy is liable to make enemies out of creatures that could be friends. You do so only when you have an exceeding degree of bias against anything outside your own familiar society. We call that 'racism'.

There's a reason no one but tyrants and dictators employ extermination policies, you know.

Also, intelligent creatures tend to be curious about the unknown. All these creatures are 'unknown' to the ponies. While they might be hesitant to allow them to come into close proximity to the population, logic dictates that some form of observation be undertaken to determine the intent and intelligence of each creature, once it becomes clear they are all radically different and may very well not even originate from the same world.

[Alondro]

2497718 Ah yes, the other point to ponder is that they as yet have no idea what is spawning these huge number of rifts all across the world.

It opens up a plethora of questions and possibilities. Is it deliberate? is their world being 'tested' by an unimaginably powerful entity that can rip open dimensional barriers like so much tissue paper? Is it all due to a cataclysm reaching through the entire multiverse, such that soon all realms will collapse into each other and mutually obliterate everything?

Celestia, being as old as she is, must have realized by now that the spawn are merely an effect of the rifting phenomenon. Far more important by any measure is determining the cause, given that whatever is powering the rifts may be impossibly beyond the magnitude that any on their world can hope to overcome.

I can't recall if I mentioned it before, but they need Discord's help on this. The ponies are woefully under-equiped and underpowered to face whatever is opening such a tremendous number of interdimensional portals with obvious ease.

[Alondro]

Ah, finally got to the latest chapter... and, whadda-ya know! Evil entity of phenomenal cosmic powers! I thought as much!

And Equestria's nascent magial field is a shield against this evil creature; nice bit of forethought there as well.

I also suspect that rather than the portals being solely the mechanism, they make have weakened the space-time membrane enough to allow the entity to either rip it wide open, or perhaps it redirected the quantum tunnels to other realms, utilizing their stable field dynamics as a catalytic mechanism from which multiple wormholes could be generated.

In any case, DESTROY THE EVIL POWER!! *jumps through the dimensions and beats the entity with his Evil Entity Punishing Stick!* YOU HURT PONIES NOW DIEEEEEEEEE!!!!

[Eldamaur]

Just thought I should post this to let everyone know that I am not dead, and I most certainly have not abandoned this story. Times have just been a little difficult recently, and writing hasn't been my top priority. When finals end in a short while I'll be right back to work on this. Thanks for your patience over the long wait, everyone.

[AnormalUnicornPony]

2515511

Yay!? Two months later... the wait hurts...

Well good luck with whatever ails you! I hope you are back on your feet in no time at all!

Uh... I didn't mean to imply that you were sick just that you were able to get back on an even keel...

[Cold Spike]

How many times is he gonna get fucked over? Man...

[pinkshadow369]

I'm gonna make a guess. It's chrysalis isn't it