A young man is ripped from his own world and forced to contend with the dangers of a new one.
Tristan, a young man in college, has lead a perfectly normal life with a good best friend, good parents, and generally favorable prospects. However, he's fated to have all that torn away as he falls through a strange rift to an alien land filled with unknown dangers. Now instead of worrying about his next exam he finds himself forced to worry about his next meal as he struggles to survive in this new environment that makes less and less sense as he forges on.
“No, I’m telling you, Gandalf would beat Dumbledore no problem! Especially if he’s already Gandalf the White; you just don’t screw with Gandalf the White,” Tristan asserted as Eric simply rolled his eyes.
“What did he even do? There were hardly any parts where he was using magic; Dumbledore has all sorts of awesome spells to use!” Eric returned, taking joy in the simple antagonism of his good friend.
“If you read the books you’d know just how much more powerful he is, there’s simply no contest between them,” Tristan shot back, oblivious to Eric’s baiting.
“Who said anything about the books? I’m just talking about the movies,” he replied in turn, knowing full well his friend had always been talking about the books.
Tristan simply raised his finger, opened and closed his mouth several times, and muttered, “I really hate you sometimes, you know.”
“Oh, lighten up, I’m just having a little fun,” laughed Eric as he relished in his victory. “You take things too seriously sometimes; it just makes messing with you so tempting.”
“Well one of us has got to be serious and thoughtful, remember what happens when you don’t think things through beforehand? We wouldn’t want a repeat of that, now would we?”
“Hey, you know that wasn’t all my fault. I’ve told you before that could have happened to anyone! And the burns were only second degree, it could have been worse…” Eric defended, not willing to let Tristan best him in their verbal duel.
“Whatever you say; it’s just a good thing she didn’t press charges. She could have, you know,” Tristan retorted as they continued their walk away from school.
The duo continued on their long walk, anxious to get home but still enjoying the simplicity of the walk and the camaraderie of friendship. They passed through the hustle and bustle of their city, oblivious to the sirens in the distance, roars of cars, and general sounds of life that they had come to know in their nineteen years of life. All was peaceful. All was normal.
They continued to chat, hardly paying attention to their surroundings, being so accustomed to the familiar walk home. As such they were certainly not paying attention to where they stepped, instead taking in the everyday scenery and whimsical cloudscape above them.
“…so you do agree then, EA is just a terrible company. I mean, I can understand taking steps against piracy, but some of the things they’ve been doing are just way ov-,“ Tristan was cut mid word as he suddenly fell forward, seemingly stepping into a ditch in the pavement.
He let out a high pitched, frightened yelp of surprise as he fell face forward towards the pavement, which was no longer the pavement. Instead, what seemed to be a gaping hole torn into the air itself was directly in front of him, and he had no way of stopping himself. Without time to think of any sort of plan nor the reflexes to grab the ends of the strange tear in reality, he did the only thing that came to mind. That is to say, scream like a little girl.
He continued his scream for a few seconds with his eyes tightly clenched shut before realizing that while he was inside of the portal he was still hanging upside down, as something had caught his leg. He opened one eye a crack only to have it viciously assaulted by bright sunlight, temporarily blinding him.
“Urgh, what the hell just happened? Tristan? Tristan, damn it, answer me!” grunted Eric as he was hunched over the strange tear, clasping Tristan’s ankle with all of his strength, desperately trying to pull his friend up.
Tristan ended his screams and did his best to look up above him, finding the action difficult in his disoriented state as the blood began rushing to his head. He saw Eric above him with his arm dangling through the rift clutching his leg. As he dared for a moment to look below him with his somewhat adjusted eyes he saw what looked to be a snowy landscape with trees as far as he could see.
“This is some realistic dream! I wish they were this clear all the time!” laughed out Tristan, his mind coming to the only logical conclusion possible. “Just let me go Eric, I’ll fly or something!”
“What?! Have you lost your mind? This isn’t a dream, give me your hand you moron!” Eric shouted down. “This is crazy as all Hell but it’s real, damn it, now work with me here!”
Eric vaguely noticed a few people standing around him babbling something at him but he wasn’t able to make it out, caring only for the safety of his imperiled friend. He jostled Tristan a bit, hoping to shake some sense into him, to no noticeable avail.
“Hah, yeah, you’re really funny dream Eric! Because stuff like this totally happens in normal life, suuuuuure,” Tristan taunted back up to Eric, still not fully processing the situation.
He closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and imagined himself starting to fly as he had done before in lucid dreams. Suddenly, he felt Eric’s grip loosen and he began to fall. Smiling to himself over his perceived victory over his subconscious mind, Tristan willed himself to fly.
However, he only continued to fall, and as he opened his eyes in shock at the rapidly approaching trees he was falling towards he suddenly comprehended the severity of his situation. The biting wind rushed across his face as the trees got nearer and nearer, adding to the realism of the situation. The cold actually kind of…hurt. The realization that he felt pain, and that it was therefore not a dream, smacked Tristan like an eighteen wheeler truck.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-oomph!” Tristan hit the first of the uppermost branches, the wind getting knocked completely out of him.
It did little to slow his descent as he smacked branch after branch on his way down. Luckily the branches were somewhat supple and so bent to accommodate his fall, rather than simply breaking every bone in his body. He eventually landed with a loud thud on the snowy ground below.
The young man lay still for a moment, hardly daring to breathe, as he surveyed the damages. He tested his extremities first, finding all manner of cuts and what would surely be deep bruises, but, miraculously, no broken bones. He groggily opened his eyes, his vision still spinning from his harsh descent, and attempted to look around him. Through the haze of his vision all he could see was brown vertical shapes which he assumed to be trees and lots and lots of white snow everywhere.
As he shakily attempted to get to his legs he looked further around him and noticed something that stood out vibrantly against the dull browns and brilliant white: a deep crimson color. His eyes finally began to adjust and he looked with his newfound clarity at the obtrusive object and nearly lost his lunch at the sight.
Not too far away from him was a human arm, severed six inches or so above the elbow, seeping blood into the virgin snow beneath it. What’s more, Tristan recognized the watch the arm was wearing…it was Eric’s! He steadied himself against a nearby tree and averted his gaze, attempting to slow his breathing and calm his mind.
What the Hell is going on? Where am I? How did this happen? Is that seriously Eric’s ARM? My parents are going to flip out at this! There’s no way any of this could be happening! But yet, I feel pain…so it can’t be a dream. Damn it, think, Tristan, think, what could possibly be going on?
Contemplating his situation did little to calm his nerves, quite the opposite, if anything. His rapid breathing eventually slowed to a point where he felt he had a grip on the situation and he just stood there, watching as his rattling breath coalesced into a visible fog before his eyes. Gathering his wits he slowly turned to face the gruesome sight.
He hesitantly edged closer, noticing a steam rising up from the heat of the blood that was melting the snow and once more fought back his urge to puke. This was definitely Eric’s arm. The way it had been sliced was almost unrealistically clean; there was no break to the bone, no evidence of any cleaving, it was simply not attached, like the bisections of the human body that one might see at a science museum. Thankfully, the blood covered most of the open wound, lest he knew he would be subjected to a true cross-section of bone.
What am I supposed to do with this thing? It’s in the snow, could it be reattached? No, stupid, stupid, you couldn’t reattach a whole arm…and I still don’t know where the Hell I am! I can’t just leave it out there; it’d just get eaten by some animal, like a…wolf…crap.
Upon his sudden revelation Tristan frantically swiveled his head to and fro, certain that he was about to find a pack of bloodthirsty wolves about to pounce on him. He looked deep into the forest around him, attempting to discern any movement, any movement at all, but found none. It was almost odd how silent it was, but considering the ruckus he had just caused and the fact that it seemed to be winter here he shrugged it off.
Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have watched The Grey, now all I’m going to see is wolves behind every tree. I wish that Eric was here, he’s always been the more outdoorsy type…Eric! Crap, he just lost his arm; he could be dead for all I know! I’d almost rather be him than me, though; at least he’s sure to get medical attention. For all I know, nobody will ever find me out here.
For a moment he almost lapsed back into nonsensical terror at his situation but he managed to shake himself mentally and focus on a more thoughtful approach to the situation, as he knew panicking would be nothing but a detriment at this point. Pushing his doubts and searing questions to the side, he attempted to assess his situation.
Alright, freaking out will accomplish nothing, so I need to not do that. So, for whatever reason, I’m in the middle of a forest, alone, stranded...with barely anything on me. Just a fairly thin, long sleeve shirt, a hoodie, jeans, sneakers, a backpack…wait, where’s my backpack?!
He quickly scoured the area around him, looking for his weathered old backpack, but couldn’t find it anywhere on the ground, which meant, of course, that it could only be up a tree. Looking upwards confirmed his fear to be true as he saw his backpack dangling limply out of his reach about twelve feet in the air.
So, no backpack for right now. I’ll have to figure out how to get that down later. Other than that I’ve got my crappy old cell phone that only makes calls, my wallet filled with plastic cards and coupons, for all the good that’ll do me here, and my house keys. And, of course, a freakin’ severed arm, with a watch. Well…I don’t have a watch, and I’m sure he wouldn’t begrudge me, given the situation.
Tristan queasily edged closer to the arm, slowly and deliberately edging his hand towards it as if he thought it was about to spring up and bite him if he made any sudden moves. He gripped the forearm close to the watch and was disgusted at the feel of it. The skin had cooled considerably from its short stay in the snow and the loss of blood but he could still feel some small vestige of warmth clinging hopelessly to existence under the skin.
He picked up the arm and grimaced at the limp flopping of the wrist. After fumbling with the watch band for a moment he managed to free it from the arm and wasted no time in setting the arm down gingerly back onto the snow. A quick inspection of the watch showed it was more or less in good condition, save for a few specks of blood and surface scratches. It was the classic wind up type that didn’t require a battery, which certainly had an advantage since there was no battery to run out, but if he forgot to wind it then it would have to be reset.
After slipping the watch on his own wrist Tristan decided to attempt to get his backpack down from the tree before something else came along and chased him away. Looking around he spotted some stones of reasonable size and threw one of them up at the backpack, attempting to knock it free. The stone sailed off target and smacked into a small tree not far away, causing it to shudder and lose all the snow that had clung to it. Though he knew the noise was reasonably quiet it echoed like a warning bell in his head for a moment in stark contrast to the silence of the forest around him.
Crap, if there’s anything out here the last thing I want to do is attract attention; I’ll have to figure out another way to get it down…
He looked around once more, this time for anything long, and found his wish granted in the form of a broken branch that was propped up against a nearby tree. After grabbing the branch and testing it to see if it would readily break he moved back underneath the backpack, jumped at it with stick in hand, and swatted it for all he was worth. The backpack came loose, but with it, a great deal of snow.
The snow covered Tristan completely, instantly enveloping him in a new level of cold. He desperately clawed his way out, mentally berating himself for not seeing that coming, and searched through the pile of snow for his backpack, which he found without much trouble.
I’m going to freeze to death if I don’t do something quick, at least start moving…but at least I got my backpack! Now, let’s see…notebook, could burn for a bit, mostly useless…Pencils, not much use there, I doubt someone is going to come across any message I write…Calculator, yes! I’ll long-division my way out of this mess!...yeah, that’s going to be useless. Aha, a pencil sharpener! If I can remove the blade from that I might be able to whittle a spear, it’d be terribly annoying but it sure beats using a rock. And three granola bars that have been in here for far too long. I suppose it’s a good thing I never got around to eating them or tossing them now, though.
Nothing else of note, great. I couldn’t be the guy who carries around knives, matches, and a compass that goes hiking on the weekends and is a survival expert, no, that’d just be too simple. Screw you too, Universe…
Discouraged with the discovery that his beacon of hope didn’t actually have much of use in it, Tristan was losing hope. However, daunted as he was, he knew that just consigning himself to his fate and freezing to death certainly was not the way to go.
Well, I’d better take the arm with me, if I get out of this there’s no way Eric would be cool with me just leaving it here to be eaten by something. Perhaps I can “arm” myself with it if something attacks…ok, that was just terrible. That was terrible and I feel terrible for thinking it.
He gathered up the arm, wrapped the bloody stump end in a few pieces of paper from his notebook, and shoved it into an unused compartment of his backpack where it was held in place fairly well. However, he was unable to make it fit properly and so the hand was forced to stick outside of the zipper.
Heh, if I come across anyone they’ll think I’m some sort of serial killer…wait, why is that funny? Bah, it’s not like there’s anyone out here, anyway. This place is deserted.
After taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh Tristan finally began moving forward. As he walked he kept watch for anything that could be of use; particularly long, sturdy sticks, sharp rocks, or anything edible. He continued on his way for about a half an hour, making terrible progress in the snow. He could feel his body getting colder and colder and noticed that the sun was starting to hang precariously close to the edge of the sky and so decided to find a place to make camp.
I’m getting kind of hungry, but I really need to ration those bars. I guess one wouldn’t hurt, but I need to get some other food or I know that I’m going to die. A fire would be great too, and perhaps some shelter if I can find it. I wonder if there are any caves or the like. Preferably without hibernating bears, of course…
After quickly eating one of his granola bars he began wandering aimlessly through the forest, vaguely keeping to the east, away from the setting sun. After about a half hour of walking it began to get truly dark and the silence of the forest began to press in upon him.
I’m away from where I fell, so there should be at least some signs of animals, shouldn’t there? Either everything is hibernating or has migrated, or something is seriously up with this place. It’s bad enough I’m thrown through some freaky portal to the middle of nowhere, but does it really have to be this creepy too?
As he was about to give up hope and attempt making a ball under the snow for insulation like he had heard of animals doing on TV he finally saw something other than trees, rocks, and snow. Looming upon the horizon, barely visible by the silvery light of the moon, was his perceived salvation.
A cabin! Someone lives out here; I’m not going to freeze to death! They’ll know the way to a city or something; I’m not going to die!
However, upon his approach of the cabin, several things stuck out to him. While it seemed to have once been a pretty cozy place the wood had begun to rot and there were no lights beyond the horribly dirty windows. He could spot a stone chimney reaching up to the top but no smoke drifted up from it, and there was no stack of logs or anything to indicate habitation outside.
Nevertheless, Tristan ran joyously up to the cabin and knocked several times. The silence from within confirmed his fear: it was deserted. However, he didn’t let that get his spirits too far down; he still had shelter for the night.
Prying open the door proved to be a somewhat difficult task as it opened outwards into the snow and the hinges had begun to rust. Finally, after seriously considering just trying to bash the door down, he got it open enough to slide inside. He noted that the door was also uncharacteristically small at perhaps five feet tall, so short that he had to duck to get inside.
The first thing that he noticed was the smell. The air was musty and unpleasant, further confirming the desertion of the place. Due to the state of the windows it was also very dark; he couldn’t see anything but the vague outlines of shapes. After fumbling around with his numb fingers inside his pockets for a moment he retrieved his phone and shone the light around, revealing the one-room interior of the cabin.
The cabin itself was revealed to be rather small, again with a short ceiling of perhaps six feet, leaving little room above Tristan’s head. What was obviously once a table was heaped in the corner. Time had taken its toll on the poor thing and it had collapsed. Tristan doubted that he could get it back in serviceable order. The single chair remained intact, though its ability to support weight was still in question. On the other side of the cabin was a terribly dilapidated bed that looked like it could have once belonged to a child with how small it was. A number of miscellaneous small objects littered the floor, though he couldn’t make out what most of them were at a glance.
Tristan began searching through the scattered objects, looking for anything that could possibly be of use. He found an old picture in a shattered frame, so worn that he couldn’t even distinguish what it was of. However, the broken glass could certainly prove useful. Other than that the only thing that stuck out was a small container with a cap on it and a small woven strap.
Taking the container in his hand, he popped off the cap and poured out the contents which made a dull thumping noise on the floor below. It held inside what looked to be some kind of rock, some metal object that looked a little like brass knuckles, and several strips of some sort of fabric. It suddenly struck him what it must be, a tinderbox, the sort he knew from his days of playing Runescape!
As far as he could gather, the rock was flint, the metal thing was the steel, and the cloth must be used as tinder of sorts. He tested his hypothesis by slipping on the metal and striking it against the rock. Much to his delight, bright sparks formed in front of his eyes.
He wasted no time salvaging the legs of what was once the table as firewood, snapping them into more manageable lengths, piling them up in the fireplace, and placing a strip of cloth underneath the pile. He struck some sparks next to the cloth several times and eventually, to his endless delight, it caught fire! The fire spread slowly from the cloth towards the legs and eventually caught them on fire as well. Before long he had a reasonable-sized fire in front of him, flames dancing and lighting the whole cabin in a cheery glow.
“Ohh yes, that has got to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life,” mumbled Tristan aloud. The feeling slowly began returning to his extremities as the warmth began to seep in, causing him to become lost in the bliss of the moment for a while. After becoming suitably warm he decided to get some sleep for the night and let tomorrow take care of itself.
A rhythmic crunching outside the cabin jarred Tristan from his slumber. The crunching sounded like something going through the snow, and Tristan could feel the ground reverberating somewhat from the thumps, hinting at something very heavy. He quietly crept to the dirty window and peered outside, seeing a huge shape just outside the cabin.
The outline of the creature looked like that of a bull, though much bigger. The thing must have been taller than he was and even longer than that. Long horns protruded from the sides of its head ending in a perfect tip, no dulling evident. From what he saw it reflected the moonlight with an almost metallic sheen and snorted out some sort of green smoke. It didn’t take him long to decide that the thing was definitely trouble.
He shrunk himself down below the window, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t investigate the cabin. Was it intelligent? Was it just an animal? All he knew for certain is that he did not want to be on the wrong side of those horns, as either one of them could skewer him through with horn to spare.
He slowed his breathing, attempting to stop any possible sounds as he cowered beneath the window, willing the abomination to pass by. Further crunching was heard outside as the beast moved closer to the cabin. Before long he felt the wall behind him shake as something prodded at it with a hard object, likely a hoof. He began to tremble as he waited for the impending breaking down of the door and the goring that would follow.
Yet, nothing happened. The beast turned around with a loud snort and he could see a few wisps of the green gas waft through the crack under the door, which he fanned away while holding his breath. He didn’t know what the stuff was, but he did know he not want to breathe any of it in. The monstrosity slowly lumbered away and he let out a long sigh of relief that he managed to avoid a confrontation with the beast.
It was still night, however, and so he huddled himself back into a ball in the corner to attempt to get back to sleep, putting the encounter as far to the back of his mind as possible. The bed was not an option, as the thing didn’t look like it could support his weight and the decaying remains of bedding would likely be worse than the hard floor. After a few worried moments he passed into a fitful sleep.
He woke up the next morning to a rumbling stomach that demanded sustenance. He decided to eat another granola bar, noting that it both did not fill him up very much and that he only had one left after this. He had yet to see any kind of berries or fruits on his walk and the forest was still eerily devoid of normal animal life, so he was going to need to find food or civilization quickly before he starved to death.
Let’s see, what kind of stuff is edible around here…I remember reading about people eating wood underneath the bark, but I’d rather not dull my only small blade in an attempt to get some. Come to think of it, I still need to make a spear, too. Besides, that sounds awfully…splinter-y. Nothing else I brought with me is edible, just papers, my calculator, random knick-knacks, and…oh.
Tristan grimaced at even the thought of it but knew in the back of his mind it was a very real possibility. He unzipped his backpack and took out Eric’s arm.
After staring at the arm for a long moment he both mentally and physically slapped himself. “No, I’m not going to devolve to that! It’s Eric’s freakin’ arm! If I’m going to starve to death eventually I can at least do it with dignity, dammit!” he muttered fiercely. “No, I’m not going to die, and I’m not going to resort to that. I’m going to get out of this!”
He put the arm back in his pack, unsure of whether he really should even bother but finding no good enough reason to get rid of it yet. With fresh determination he strapped on his backpack, gathered up his supplies, including the tinderbox and as many wood pieces from the table that he could shove inside his backpack, and opened the door of the cabin.
The first thing that he noticed outside was a great number of holes in the ground where the strange beast had trodden the night before. While his footsteps would simply compact the snow beneath them these holes went straight down to the ground, hinting at a great mass. The tracks were from the north to the south, and so he continued his way eastward, nervously looking around to see if he could spot the creature.
After about an hour of walking he was starting to really feel the cold once more and longed to be beside the fire again. The scenery never seemed to change and there were still no signs of life, or anything interesting, for that matter. However, knowing that going back to the cabin was a resignation to starvation, he continued onward.
Roughly two more hours passed and the sun was high in the sky when he finally noticed something happening: the trees were thinning out. Excited with his sudden progress he quickened his pace and was amazed at what he saw.
Perhaps fifty feet away from the tree line at the edge of the forest was a gigantic wall made of grey stone. It rose at least fifteen feet in the air and stretched on as far as he could see, slowly curving along with the edge of the forest. Either someone was trying to keep something out of the forest, or they were trying to keep something in.
Great, a wall blocking my exit…but hey, at least it’s progress. And it doesn’t look like it’s in any state of disrepair; it must be maintained by someone! But what is it here for? Perhaps it has something to do with that beast from the other night…
He made it to the edge of the tree line himself and examined the wall a bit more closely. He could actually see something moving on the top of it! It looked to be a horse of some sort with shiny metal barding, though he couldn’t make out the details from where he stood.
“Hey, anyone up there? I need out of this place, and some food! Anyone?” he yelled up at the wall, attempting to attract the attention of whoever owned the horse. As he got closer he noticed that the horse was actually rather small, more of a pony than anything. Further, the barding it wore was reminiscent of the Roman style with a straight plume and everything. The thing that struck him as being the most odd, however, was the horn sticking out of its head.
Upon hearing his shouts the pony began making noises he couldn’t place, though they didn’t sound like random neighs and the like that he would expect from a pony, it almost sounded like it was trying to speak. When he continued towards the wall he noticed that the horn became wrapped in some strange translucent aura as it appeared that the pony was exerting itself.
“Uh, hey, can you understand me? Hello?” Tristan called out. “Look at me, I’m trying to talk to a freakin’ unicorn now,” he muttered under his breath.
Out from the horn came a bright light and Tristan’s eyes widened as he saw a fireball suddenly materialize out of nothing and come hurtling towards him. He gave a startled yell as he lunged to the side, narrowly escaping the blast. A sharp blast of heat hit him and he looked behind him to see that where he stood a moment before the snow had all been melted and the ground slightly scorched.
“The one time I find something that looks like it may be of help it shoots a fireball at me?! What the Hell is wrong with this place?!” he cursed, fleeing farther from the wall as several more fireballs detonated nearby. After he got back to the tree line the unicorn stopped firing at him and instead just watched him intently.
He leaned against a tree and attempted to calm the rapid beating of his heart. This place was messed up! He looked back at the unicorn and saw what looked to be another pony flying towards it.
Wait, flying? Oh joy, there’s pegasi as well as unicorns, and it looks like they’re both hostile. Something is telling me I want outside of that wall though…but how?
Deciding that it would be best to get out of sight of those two monstrosities, which had begun to communicate with each other, it seemed, he hurried back towards the cabin to plan. On his way back he selected a few long and straight branches to be his new spears, should he have to fight the things. He eventually reached the cabin with little difficulty and assessed his situation while he absent-mindedly whittled the tips of the branches to a point and smoothed the sides to make them more aerodynamic.
All right, so, better go over what I know so far; that should give a bit of insight as to what to do. Arrived via portal in the sky that popped up out of nowhere, so that means that either someone learned how to open up a rift in time and space with some machine or it’s actually something magical. Given the fact that I just saw a unicorn and pegasus, and whatever the Hell that thing was last night, I’m going to have to go with magic.
I’m getting really hungry and all I have on me is one last granola bar, so starvation is a very real possibility. If I don’t get somewhere with food soon then it doesn’t matter what dangerous creatures there are, I’ll be dead anyway.
But that wall…those ponies don’t want me to get past it, obviously, and they’re hostile to me…so, that must mean there’s something I would want on the other side. Anything would be better than this creepy forest. I’ll see if I can sneak up to the wall at night, they can’t be patrolling the whole thing if it stretches around this huge forest. Perhaps I can climb the stones…only one way to find out.
Having resolved to attempt climbing the wall during the coming night he finished whittling his spears, four in all; though he began with seven. The other three were currently resting mutilated in the fireplace awaiting a light, the failed prototypes that would never get to draw blood. They weren’t very pretty, and they’d break pretty easily, but they were reasonably sharp and could do some damage if he stabbed something with one the right way. He built up another fire, savoring perhaps the last warmth he would ever feel, as he waited for nightfall, playing through scenarios in his head that usually involved him dying.
Several hours passed and the sun finally began to lower in the sky. With a determined glare Tristan donned his backpack, grabbed his spears, and ate his last granola bar. Though it wasn’t nearly enough to quell his rebelling stomach it would have to do until he got over the wall. He began his trek back to the wall, thinking a silent thanks to the cabin he so fortuitously found.
The sun steadily fell lower and the moon slowly took its place in the sky, affording enough illumination to walk by, but only just. Nothing made a sound save for the rhythmic crunching of his footsteps as he slowly but surely made his way to his goal. Tonight would be arguably the most important night in his life, as he found out whether he would be able to escape the forest or simply die.
About halfway to his destination something very strange took his attention. Far to his left he saw a bright light, similar to the very light of day, shimmering in the distance. Further, in stark contrast to the crushing silence he had been dealing with, noise came from the direction of the light. It sounded deep and tumultuous, like the earth itself was being sundered.
Oh, no, no, no, I am not going to deal with this crap right now! Everything I’ve found so far, save for that cabin, has been bad news. I’m not going to be that moron in the horror movies that investigates the disturbances, I’m going to stick out of sight and keep my head down.
He ignored the strange light and sounds as best he could and within a minute, as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped. Convinced that he should not check out what the disturbance was he dutifully continued onwards until he met the end of the forest.
He could see the wall from earlier, dark and foreboding in the night. A good distance away from him he could just make out the unicorn from earlier still patrolling the wall, lit by a light that seemingly came out of the same horn that flung fireballs at him. Further down the wall, mere pinpricks in the distance, were similar beacons of light, likely more ponies. He stuck to the cover of the trees and watched the patrol route for a short while.
Back and forth, back and forth, without variation, the unicorn kept to the same patrol route without missing a beat. After Tristan became suitably familiar with the timing involved he decided on what time would give him the longest window of opportunity to attempt to scale the wall, and waited for his moment.
As the accursed unicorn was about to reach the perfect spot for him to make his attempt he heard a familiar crunching sound coming from the forest nearby, further down in the tree line. Squinting to make out the form in the darkness he recognized what he saw: it was the bull-like beast from the other night!
Seeing it clearly, without the terribly dirty window between him and it to act as a buffer, he was even more intimidated than before. The hulking beast seemed to be made out of metal plates, covering it like the scales of a snake. It occasionally snorted out the green hazy gas from before as it looked up at the light of the unicorn.
He decided to watch how the confrontation would conclude, as the metal beast certainly didn’t seem friendly to the unicorn. He watched as the unicorn suddenly spotted the metallic monstrosity and let out a cry in that strange language it had. The bull-like creature let out a cry of its own, though it was obvious that it was not in fear, it was in challenge.
The beast, which Tristan decided to refer to as Mecha-Bull, charged towards the unicorn as it tossed out some fireballs at it, just like the ones that it threw at Tristan earlier. They hardly seemed to have any effect, however, as the fireballs each met their target and momentarily brilliantly illuminated the metallic form before going out as if they had never existed.
The beast got up to the wall as several more unicorns ran to the aid of the now obviously panicking pony under siege, along with a few pegasi of the type he had seen earlier. Something in the back of his mind shouted at him to take the opportunity and make his attempt but the sheer awe and fear of the spectacle kept him rooted to his spot inside the trees.
One of the pegasi dive-bombed Mecha-Bull, hitting it straight in the side with a loud clanging sound, but it had no effect. That is to say, no harmful effect; the attacks did have one effect: making it angry. Seeing that its attackers were out of range it rammed itself into the wall, attempting to knock one of the unicorns down to its level.
However, the unicorns maintained their balance and stayed up on the wall, desperately attempting different kinds of attacks to try to damage Mecha-Bull. Tristan watched in fascination as fire, lightning, rocks, and what looked to be pure magical energy bombarded Mecha-Bull to no avail. The continued ramming of the wall was starting to break it down, creating a hole in it and causing one startled unicorn to lose its balance and fall to the ground below.
Mecha-Bull wasted little time in trampling the unicorn to death. The pegasi attempted to help their unfortunate comrade, but couldn't get past the thrashing of Mecha-Bull's razor sharp horns. Even from his distance he could hear the strangled death cries of the misfortunate unicorn and the sharp snapping sounds of its bones under the massive weight of Mecha-Bull.
Well, I’m certainly glad that thing didn’t get into the cabin last night…I would have been completely screwed!
The unicorn’s cries ceased and the others began to understand that their attacks weren’t working, causing them to attempt targeting different parts of the body to find a weak spot in a desperate final gambit. However, before they could make any sort of progress, Mecha-Bull let out a huge cloud of the green smoke in a violent emanation in front of it, enveloping the remaining unicorns.
When the smoke cleared he saw that the unicorns had stopped moving entirely, one of them was even in mid dodge and frozen in that position. It looked like they had been turned to stone! The pegasi backed off after seeing this and circled above Mecha-Bull, clearly afraid of sharing the same fate.
Seeing that the remaining attackers were hopelessly out of range Mecha-Bull let out an enraged snort and ran headlong into the wall, crashing through the hole and causing the wall around it to tumble down. It began charging off into the night on the other side of the wall and the pegasi swiftly trailed it.
After the dust had settled Tristan cautiously crept towards the rubble, hoping that no hidden pony stayed behind and no more terrifying beasts the likes of Mecha-Bull were attracted by the commotion. When he got closer he had a chance to examine the unicorns, both the ones that he could now confirm as being turned to stone and the one that was simply trampled to death.
The mush that vaguely resembled what used to be a unicorn nearly caused Tristan to vomit. He averted his eyes from the gore and attempted to ignore the pungent smell of blood and death, instead looking at one of the petrified unicorns.
The thing had gigantic eyes that seemed to be too big in comparison to the rest of its head and other things seemed off about it as well, though he couldn’t exactly put his finger on what due to not having much experience with normal ponies. At any rate, these things were obviously his enemies and he needed to get as far away from them as possible.
He climbed over the rubble with some difficulty, adding a few new scrapes to his growing collection, and saw the other side was an open expanse with a few trees dotted from place to place. Most importantly, however, he saw a road. While it seemed likely that the road would be travelled on and protected by ponies like the sorts he had already seen, it had to lead somewhere, and anywhere with a population had to have some food.
Well, wherever I am it’s certainly not Earth, even with the similarities. I suppose there’s only one way to make any progress, though…continuing on. I hope nothing saw me cross that wall. I doubt I could win a fight with any of those ponies with my spears, much less a monstrosity like Mecha-Bull. I suppose there’s not really much hope for me getting back home any time soon, which means I should really do something about this arm…
He quickly dug out a hole in the ground using some of the broken stone as a means to dig and ceremoniously placed Eric’s arm inside, covering it back up with dirt and staring blankly at the mound for a moment.
I suppose that’ll have to do; I’m sure he’d understand, given the circumstances. Beats having a slowly rotting human arm in my pack anyway, that’d be nothing but trouble. Sorry, Eric!
Taking a deep breath, he left the wall behind him and headed towards the road. While he knew he couldn’t stay directly on the road he could still follow it from a distance, and anywhere had to be better than here.
Finally free of the strange forest, Tristan trudged onwards, hoping that wherever the road lead would yield food. He kept to the distance, where he could still see the road reasonably well, but far enough to where he could lie prone and hopefully stay hidden from any more of those accursed ponies that might travel the road.
The first travellers that he saw on the road, after about four hours of walking through the night, were a small convoy of carts, lead by a unicorn that looked like the armored ones from before. Following the unicorn’s lead were several other ponies pulling carts laden with the same kind of stone that the wall he left was made of. The ponies pulling the carts were not dressed as the soldier types, but rather garbed in heavy winter clothing that gave Tristan a sharp pang of jealousy. He also noticed the ones pulling the carts didn’t have horns, though they could potentially have wings under their heavy cloaks.
These ponies work fast, it’s a good thing I was there when I was! Otherwise, they would have patched it up before I got over and I would have ended up starving to death...though that’s a fate I still might abide. At least I know I’m going the right way; I’ll just go the opposite direction of them and end up at wherever they came from.
The convoy passed, with none of the ponies even glancing towards Tristan’s direction, and so he continued on his way. The sun eventually began to rise, indicating that time had been flying at an unusual rate, the light helping to expedite him but also making him much easier to see against the white snow all around. Though he was becoming tired he pushed onwards, seeing as he had passed little more than trees for possible shelter from the cold.
Before he came across any sort of civilization he spotted another traveller on the road, this one much more promising than the last few. Travelling in the opposite direction that he was heading, like the others, was a lone pony pulling a covered cart. The pony wore a cloak not unlike the ones he had seen on the other cart pullers from earlier, but this one didn’t have any guards that he could see.
Tristan quickly scanned the skies, looking for more of the pegasi that he had seen the previous night, and was relieved to see that there were no potential aggressors among the clouds. The pony was moving at a pretty good pace but didn’t seem to be in any kind of great hurry, and he knew that he could catch up to it with the cart slowing it down.
Whatever’s in that cart could be really useful, but even if it’s nothing I’d still have the cover that’s on it for a bit of warmth, so I’ve got to take the chance and steal the cart. Problem is, what to do with the pony? I could kill it and eat it, but these things are sentient, even if they are hostile, and this one hasn’t done anything to me yet...but when a man’s gotta eat, a man’s gotta eat, right?
But then, there’s the problem of how to do this. If I just run up to the thing it’ll be ready for me, and that would make this a whole lot harder. Though, if I scared it away like that I’d have the cart, but it might get help from some of those unicorn types with the fireballs. Well, at least a death by fireball would be a warm one...but then, ahh, yes...that’s it!
With a devious smirk on his face Tristan did his best to jog far ahead of the pony until he saw a tree close by the path. Keeping low to the ground, to hopefully remain unseen by the pony, he ran as stealthily as he could to the tree and pressed himself against the rough bark, readying one of the spears that he whittled. Before long he heard the telltale noise of clopping hooves coming his way and he mentally steeled himself for the confrontation.
When the hoofbeats were within a few feet he leapt from his cover with a yell as loud as he could muster, brandishing his spear towards the pony. The startled pony gave an almost human sounding yell and Tristan saw its eyes widen in shock at the aggressor that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
Tristan attempted a clumsy stab with his spear which the frightened pony didn’t even attempt to dodge. However, his hasty and uncontrolled attack still missed its target, going straight past the pony and instead striking the cart itself, which caused the makeshift spear to snap. At this, Tristan let out a startled cry of his own, fearing retribution from his mark.
For a moment Tristan and the pony simply stared into one another’s equally fearful eyes, neither daring to blink. Regaining his senses, Tristan hastily fumbled behind him to try to retrieve one of his three remaining spears. The pony busied itself as well, frantically unlatching from the cart.
By the time Tristan managed to ready his new spear the pony was already beginning to run back the way it came at a speed he couldn’t hope to follow in his weakened condition. He briefly considered throwing his spear but decided against it, letting the pony escape unscathed.
He took a moment to simply sit down exposed in the road, still reeling from his encounter. The pony may have gotten away but he still had the cart, though if the pony went to get some friends he knew his trek would get a lot more dangerous.
I just tried to KILL that thing! The poor thing was terrified of me, and I just tried to kill it! Argh, no, I can’t feel guilty for this, that thing has to be with the others, and I needed to do it! I just hope it getting away didn’t sign my death warrant...there’s no way I’d last long without cover if they were actively looking for me.
Tristan shakily got to his feet, his balance swaying somewhat due to the retreating adrenaline and numbed feet, and went to inspect the cart. The material covering it seemed to be a sturdy, water resistant tarp, perfect for a blanket. Even if there was nothing underneath it that alone might have been worth his while; but he of course kept his hopes up for something useful under it as well.
His eyes widened in joy as he saw what lay within. Food, glorious food! The cart was filled almost to the brim with a giant heap of delicious looking carrots. This was odd, because he usually didn’t like carrots, but hunger is the best seasoning, after all. He immediately grabbed a few and began to eat them on the spot, not stopping until his hunger was sated. He then emptied out the useless trinkets from his backpack and filled it as full as he could with carrots, stuffed his pockets with carrots, and threw as many carrots as he could onto the tarp and wrapped it around them as a sack of sorts.
Satisfied that he had taken all he could from the cart he left it in the road, not seeing any other good use for it. He left the path again, at first attempting to cover his tracks so they couldn’t trace him but giving that up pretty quickly when he saw how obvious his tracks still were in comparison to the undisturbed snow.
Once he was back to a distance he felt safe with from the road he continued on in much higher spirits due to the carroty weight that he now carried with him. He saw no other travellers on the road, and after about two hours more it seemed he had finally reached his destination.
In the distance he saw what looked to be a small city, though not the kind he was used to. Instead of gigantic skyscrapers there were only simple buildings, mostly made of either stone or wood with thatched or wood-tiled roofs. Even from the distance he was at he could see what looked to be hundreds of ponies going about their lives in what looked to be a highly disorganised fashion.
Aha, civilization at last! Pony civilization, but civilization nonetheless! Hopefully I’ll at least be able to find some useful stuff there, like an axe or something...and perhaps I’ll even find an abandoned house to crash in for a bit! The problem is going to be getting there unnoticed. After my encounter with that pony earlier there’s no way I’ll be getting in peaceably...
The sky was teeming with pegasi of all colors, crushing any hope for an approach by day. That, of course, left a night approach, but night wasn’t for a few more hours. He trudged over to a fairly large tree he spotted nearby and decided to get some rest before the eventful night ahead. Emptying out the carrots from the tarp into the snow he wrapped himself as snugly as he could with it and waited for sleep to overtake him.
He awoke slowly to the darkness of night all around him; he had slept the entire day away. After gathering up the frozen carrots he left in the snow he surveyed the city once more, hoping that his approach wouldn’t be met with too many watchful eyes.
While there were still lights, there weren’t nearly as many as one would expect from a city. The scattered lights seemed to keep almost entirely to the main road, which meant an approach from another direction would give him the cover of darkness. He took the opportunity to jog towards one of the houses on the outskirts.
The place he chose looked to be a smithy, complete with outdoor furnace and anvil with tools hung on a rack nearby. Sadly, he couldn’t find any tools that would be very useful, save for a large hammer that would undoubtedly make a better weapon than the pitiful spears he had crafted. He kept the hammer in mind for when he left, as it’d be annoying to lug around inside while trying to be quiet, and checked the windows of the nearby house.
Closer inspection of the windows revealed that they weren’t the type that could be opened, which meant a traditional entrance through an unlocked window was out of the question. He circled the house once, keeping to the shadows, yet could find no possible way to breach the perimeter.
Well, I suppose I could always break one of the windows, but that would undoubtedly attract a lot of attention from houses nearby, not to mention the occupants if there are any. That would just leave the door, but I don’t know how to pick a lock. Perhaps I could just force it open?
Having resolved to attempt breaching the door, he set the tarp full of carrots to the side and went to test the strength of the lock by attempting to wrench it open. However, to his great surprise, it wasn’t actually locked to begin with! The door swung open on well oiled hinges, not affording even a single squeak.
They forgot to lock their door! What luck! That’s a good way to get yourself robbed, though...like I’m about to do, actually. Oh well, can’t pass up an opportunity like this!
The inside of the house was fortunately lit well enough by the rays of moonlight streaming in from the windows that he could get a good look around. The first room seemed to be more of an entry than anything, with several openings to different parts of the house. One opening was to a hallway with several doors, which were likely bedrooms or offices. Several other rooms that had no doors to separate them seemed to be a simple kitchen, living room, and family room.
The first room he decided to loot was, not surprisingly, the kitchen. After searching through the drawers and cabinets as silently as he could he found a wealth of food, though some of it seemed to be inedible grass and the like, as well as one large cutting knife that would undoubtedly prove useful. Sadly, the knife didn’t have a sheathe, so he’d have to be very careful with it for the time being. After stowing the knife in his backpack at an angle where it hopefully wouldn’t stab him, he moved on to the other rooms.
The living room and family room didn’t have much of anything that was particularly interesting in them except for one feature that struck him as nothing less than a miracle. Hanging above the fireplace was a sword, not a particularly long one, as it was likely meant for a pony, but a sword all the same! He gingerly removed it from the plaque that held it to the wall, though not gingerly enough, it seemed.
As he removed the sword the plaque fell from the wall where it had hung in place with only a single nail and landed on the floor with a loud cracking noise as it split in two upon impact. Wincing from the sudden noise, Tristan lunged to a corner where he was mostly hidden by a bookcase and waited to see if the house had any occupants after all.
After a few more moments of blessed silence he heard the sound that confirmed his fears. The light clopping of hooves upon the wooden floor was unmistakable, causing his heart to race even faster and his grip on his newly acquired sword to tighten.
Crap! Tonight was just going too damn well, wasn’t it? Now I’m going to have to kill something after all, no way I could let myself get caught here. With their own sword, no less...
The sound of hooves stopped at last near the kitchen. Perhaps the pony was just getting a glass of water or something? Tristan peeked his head out from his hiding spot to steal a glance at the pony and found that it was not a potentially deadly adult but rather a small, and admittedly rather cute, unicorn colt.
Is that a KID? I can’t kill a kid, even if it is one of those things! So long as it doesn’t check out the living room I’ll be fine, but if it does...I guess I could just overpower it, not like that little thing could put up much of a fight. But what if it cries out, and its parent comes out? I’d rather not have to fight some big burly blacksmith pony that thinks I’m trying to kill its kid, that’s for sure.
The colt ran the sink for a moment and he heard the clink of a glass, confirming that it was only up to get some water. He heard the light clopping of hooves once again and breathed a sigh of relief that he had remained hidden. However, as soon as the sigh escaped his lips, the sound of hooves abruptly stopped and he heard a quiet voice say something in that strange language of theirs.
That was stupid, stupid, stupid! I was so close, too! Now I’m going to have to do something...kill it, overpower it, what? I’ve got no time to escape, it’s going to be after me soon, I’m going to be found and killed like some sort of animal, they’re going to-
Tristan was torn from his thoughts by a light prodding to his leg. He looked down to see the unicorn colt there, looking up at him with what seemed to be a mixture of fear and curiosity. He gave out a yell of surprise which was immediately followed by a yell from the colt as well, and he swung the flat of his sword at it.
The flat connected with a meaty thud and smacked the colt into a table, causing a lamp on the table to fall over onto the ground, shattering instantly upon impact. There was no doubt that something would have heard all of that commotion, the parents had to be coming!
Crap oh crap oh crap oh crap I’m so screwed oh crap! I need to get out of here, like, NOW! I’ve got to run off and never come back here again!
With adrenaline pounding in his veins he stepped over the unmoving foal and towards the door, only to be met by a full grown pony, the very thing he dreaded to see the most. The pony had a dusty grey coat with a brown mane and he could see powerful muscles under the skin of the legs, though it had neither a horn nor wings.
The pony looked fearfully at him, then towards the unconscious foal on the ground, towards him once more, and then finally towards the door. Understanding that it meant to run, Tristan ran to the door, followed closely by the pony, and blocked its exit. If it got help from outside from one of those powerful unicorn types or one of the speedy pegasi he knew there was no way he was going to get away.
He made a wild swing at the pony with his sword, this time not using the flat, but was met instead with a powerful buck to the arm. The unexpected force caused his grip to weaken and the sword flew out of his hand and stuck fast into the wall beside him. As a last ditch effort, knowing that this was do or die, he let his adrenaline take over as he tackled the pony to the ground.
The pony landed on its back with him on top of it and thrashed around violently to try to get him off, but he wouldn’t allow it to. It began to frantically bite at him, drawing blood, but he hardly felt it in the heat of the fight. He thrust his hands onto its neck, savagely ramming its head into the ground. With it in a submissive position he began to press upon its throat, strangling it.
Its eyes began to bulge in fear as it frantically kicked around, trying its very hardest to get him off. Tristan numbly felt a prodding on his leg and turned to see what it was, seeing yet another foal. It lacked wings and a horn as well and looked like it was trying to hit him off of the larger pony to absolutely no effect.
The thrashing of the pinned pony was slowly becoming a bit weaker as it began to lose its hold on life and Tristan knew within a moment it would be dead. However, the sight of the filly pounding at him for all it was worth, doing everything it could to try to save the dying pony, caused him to loosen his grip just enough for the pony to breathe.
What am I doing? These are children, just like on Earth! This must be their parent! I can’t do this, I can’t take their...mother? Father? Away from them. If I do, then I really will be a monster...I really will deserve to be hunted down and killed...
He slowly relaxed his grip more and more until his hands were free from its neck. The pony immediately began to hack and cough, sucking in as much air as its lungs would allow. He pulled the sword out of the wall and sat down against it, defeated.
If I run they’ll just find me...and this isn’t any type of life to live. I just don’t have the skills to survive in the wilderness, and I can’t just go around robbing places and killing things. I guess that I’m done for, then...I’ll never get to see my parents again, or Eric, or anyone...I’m going to die here, alone, at the hands, err, hooves, of ponies...
Tristan dropped the sword with a loud clang and began to weep. He wept for the life that he lost, he wept for all of the stress and anguish of the past two days, and he wept that he had almost taken a sentient life. He was so busy lamenting into his arms that he didn’t care about the sounds of the pony getting up or moving about, and he did nothing to stop it as it slowly came towards him. He felt a sudden pain as something heavy and metal smacked him in the back of the head, and he knew blackness.
He awoke to the light of day streaming in from a nearby window to discover himself in bed with a throbbing pain in the back of his head. In his grogginess he attempted to stretch, only to determine that he couldn’t. Squirming around managed to free him from the sheets and he found that he was bound with several strong ropes. Curiously, his cuts and scrapes were bandaged and felt cleaner.
So, I’m alive, then? Perhaps that pony is just keeping me here until it can get another to take care of me...but then why the bed and bandages? If I can just get myself free I could try to find out what’s going on...
Tristan began to writhe about, attempting to free himself from the ropes that bound him. When more subdued struggling proved fruitless he steadily increased the intensity of his endeavor until he accidentally ended up falling off the bed with a loud thud.
At the sudden noise two ponies were summoned. One was the adult from the night before, and the other was far more intimidating. The new pony was one of the unicorns he had come to fear, bright yellow in coat with an equally bright orange for a mane. The thing looked like it would stick out among any crowd with such garish colors, especially in comparison to the more subdued colors he had found on the military types and the unobtrusive grey and brown of the pony without wings or horn.
He also noticed that they had what appeared to be tattoos on their flanks, though they were in fur, not skin, and seemed almost too perfect. The unicorn had a hammer, what looked to be a red cross, the type he had only seen used to denote medicine before, and a star, arranged in a triangular shape. The grey pony had a large hammer striking an anvil, which coincided with his suspicion that it was a smith.
The grey pony was standing partially behind the yellow one to hide itself from him somewhat, likely remembering the near death experience from the night prior. The unicorn was simply staring at him with a great deal of mistrust evident within its eyes, not moving a muscle as it carefully observed him.
Tristan returned the scrutinizing gaze with equal intensity and the duo took a moment to simply analyze the other, neither willing to budge. Eventually the grey pony said something, breaking the unicorn from its concentration, and the two began to talk, never taking their eyes off of Tristan. It seemed that they were having an argument, with several gestures being directed towards Tristan that he couldn’t imagine most horses or ponies being physically capable of.
It seemed that the grey pony eventually won as the yellow one conceded and turned to Tristan. It eyed him warily one last time and then began to strain, like the unicorns from the wall had done directly before launching a fireball at him. Its horn began to glow as well, causing Tristan to frantically writhe in his bindings, hopelessly attempting to get away from the incoming attack.
No, no, no! I changed my mind, I don’t give up, I don’t want to die! Why would they bandage me up just to kill me, what kind of sick game could that be? GIve me a bit of hope, then kill me? It can’t end like this!
Tristan attempted pathetically inching away like a worm to the door, only to find himself blocked by the grey pony from before. He looked up into its eyes with a look of pleading in his own but found no sympathy. He took a final look at the unicorn whose horn was glowing in an even brighter intensity now and closed his eyes, accepting his fate as a bright flash of light hurt his eyes, even through his eyelids.
“Hello? Can you understand me? Hello? ...Trade, I don’t think it worked, it’s not responding,” a female voice said. Had this all been a dream, and was that a doctor waking him up? Tristan took a moment to process what he just heard and slowly opened his eyes. There was no human in front of him, no hospital, just the ponies from before. His eyes darted between the two in confusion, wondering what just happened.
“The thing must not be able to speak any language then, I’m sure I got that right. It was kind of complicated, though,” the yellow unicorn said in a deeper voice that was definitely male. Its mouth moved differently than how it should have, like a dub on a foreign film, but the voice definitely came from it.
“What...what did you just do? How are you speaking English suddenly?” Tristan sputtered, his mind working to comprehend what had just happened.
“It can talk! See, I was right, it is intelligent!” the grey pony exclaimed towards the yellow one, though she did take another step away from Tristan.
“Well, I’m still getting the guards at the first sign of more trouble. Beast, you can understand us because of a spell I just cast on you. I was told that you almost killed my friend here last night, but she was kind enough to give you a chance to explain yourself before sending you to your death. What do you have to say for yourself?” the yellow pony said with no small amount of contempt. He noticed that at the mention of death the grey pony paled slightly, which didn’t make much sense considering she had fur.
“Wait, so you’re not going to kill me? That horn thing, that was just so I can talk to you? And it was a spell, as in, like, magic?” Tristan queried, unsure of how things were going to turn out. He knew he had nothing to lose, though, and he wasn’t exactly in a place to bargain, so he decided his best bet was to try to be cooperative.
“I’m certainly not going to kill you, no. But you almost killed a pony last night; and I’ve never seen a creature like you before. What are you? Did you come from one of the rifts? Oh, and my name is Motley Trade. I guess this would be easier if we had names to call each other by. You do have a name, don’t you?” The unicorn was obviously becoming more at ease now that it was apparent Tristan was not going to actively try to kill him.
“The rifts? If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about yes, I did. And the name is Tristan Davis,” he said, hoping that they could tell him how to get home. At the confirmation that he did indeed come through a rift Motley took a step back himself, and the grey pony retreated all the way to the door, as if they were fearful that he would explode or something.
“Ohhh, if the guards find out we have a rift spawn here we’ll be sent to jail, or worse! Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea; you were right Trade!” the grey pony worriedly exclaimed. “We should have just turned him over to them like you said!”
“Iron, you know what they would have done. If this thing isn’t just some bloodthirsty beast we can’t let it be disposed of like one. Now, err, Tristan, you said? Tristan, you need to tell us exactly why you did what you did the other night. You better have a good reason, or things aren’t looking very good for you.” Motley ended menacingly, making sure that Tristan knew he was in his power.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so, well, human! My first encounter with one of you wasn’t exactly pleasant, either. I should really start from the beginning, when I came through the ‘rift’...” Tristan told the two about everything that had happened to him, from his initial fall into the forest, to the cabin in the woods, to his first encounter with the hostile unicorns, and even the waylaying of the pony on the road.
Motley and Iron listened intently to his story, wincing at the descriptions of the severed arm and the brutalized unicorn, and hardening their stares as he accounted his story with the pony he ambushed. Tristan knew that it’d certainly not help him out much to tell them about that, but he also knew that if they found out later any hope he had of assistance would disappear.
He told of his desperation, of his confusion, and of his pain. He finished his story with his escapades in Iron’s house, and his decision to not kill her though he had the power to do so. The two looked at each other and eventually nodded, and looked back to Tristan.
“Some of things you’ve done are just unacceptable. Attacking that pony unprovoked, almost killing Iron, those are crimes befitting of harsh punishment,” Motley began, sounding like he was sentencing Tristan for his crimes. “However,” he said with a sigh, “I can somewhat understand your circumstances, if what you say is true. While I don’t agree with your decisions, I know such trials can certainly bring out the worst in a pony...as such, I don’t think we’ll be turning you over to the guards just yet.”
Wait, they just believed everything I said? No confirming, no threats, no anything? Even after everything I did? These ponies are way too trusting...in their place I’d send me to the authorities instantly, but who am I to complain?
“Th-thank you! I won’t do anything to hurt either of you, I promise!” Tristan blurted out in relief that they were on his side, at least a little. “Really, I’m just a normal guy, I’ve never even been in a fight before! I’m just a tiiiny bit outside of my comfort zone, if you can understand.”
“...We’ve all been thrown out of our comfort zone since the rift crisis began, so I guess I can a little...these are just such strange times we’re living in,” Iron softly responded, growing more comfortable with the idea of talking to him.
“Well, I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask, then. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you could help me get home, is there? Then we can all just go back to our own lives like this never even happened,” Tristan queried, bracing himself for the sting of a negative.
Iron and Motley just looked at each other and back to him with a sad look on their faces that told him everything. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of getting a rift spawn back through to where they came from. There could possibly be a way, but you’re the first friendly, well, intelligent creature that I’ve ever heard of coming through one,” Motley answered with a hint of sadness in his voice. “I wonder though, if you’re intelligent, just how many others have been that we just didn’t know about?”
Tristan let out a breath he wasn’t even aware that he had been holding in with a sigh. “I guess that would have been too simple, huh? Well, thanks for not killing me at least; I won’t give up hope just yet. What’s causing those rifts, anyway?”
“That’s a bit of a long story, and I’d rather not tell it to you while you’re lying on Iron’s floor. Right now we just have to figure out what to do with you,” Motley answered, turning to Iron. “Iron, can you deal with him for now? I’m going to see if I can find someone to help us out with this.”
“Not one of those soldiers!” Tristan yelled without thinking, noting that he had developed a bit of an automatic fear response to the thought of them. Clearing his throat in embarrassment of his outburst he continued, “Err, I mean, I know you said you don’t want to get me killed, so please, keep them out of this, will you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to be that hasty. We’ll handle this more delicately than that, you have my word,” Motley answered with a reassuring smile.
“I can watch him for a while, but I have Buzz and Moon to look after, so please hurry back! And what should I do about the ropes?” Iron answered to Motley’s previous question.
“Keep them on for now, I still don’t trust him,” Motley replied. “Err, no offense to you, but I hope you understand, given what you did and what you are,” he sheepishly remarked to Tristan.
“Yeah, I understand; I’d do the same thing in your place. Hell, you two are being a lot more understanding of all of this than I’d expect most people to be. Though, could you get me off the floor at least, please?” Tristan said, emphasising his discomfort with a few squirms.
“Right, yes, I can do that,” Motley replied, his horn once more glowing. Tristan was slowly lifted into the air as Motley strained himself.
At the unexpected feeling of weightlessness and floating Tristan cried out in panic, writhing about in the air. “You need to warn me before you do something like that, crap! You nearly gave me a heart attack, I’m still not used to this whole magic thing!”
“Ehehe, sorry. You’re perfectly safe though, I assure you,” Motley chuckled, taking small pleasure in Tristan’s fright. He lowered Tristan gently onto the bed and turned back to Iron. “Alright, well, I trust you’ll be all right on your own, then?”
“So long as it stays tied up and out of sight, yes. Please hurry back; I don’t want to be alone with it for too long, even if it isn’t going to try to kill me again,” Iron returned, looking overwhelmed at the thought of dealing with Tristan for very long.
“I’m a ‘he’, and I won’t be any trouble, I promise,” Tristan interrupted, getting a curt nod from Motley and a shaky one from Iron.
With that Motley turned tail and left, leaving Tristan alone with a frightened looking Iron. “We-well...what are we going to do with you?” Iron timidly queried with a forced smile.
Tristan merely squirmed a bit in his bindings to get more comfortable but the sudden movement was enough to elicit a small frightened yelp from Iron as she jumped back a short distance. Tristan rolled his eyes and muttered beneath his breath, “This day is going to be loads of fun. I can already tell...”
After a few moments of awkward silence Iron left the room, leaving Tristan to his thoughts. He took the opportunity to more thoroughly examine his surroundings. It seemed to be a guest bedroom, as there were no very personal looking bits of furniture and everything was covered in a thin layer of dust.
It looks like my luck is finally changing! Sure, I’m tied up and at their mercy, but for giving myself up as dead last night that’s quite the improvement. Still, these ponies just seem...off. If I was one of them I’d have turned me into the guards the moment I was unconscious. Everyone has a motive, so what are they planning?
He heard commotion coming from another part of the house and, though he couldn’t make out the words, he could easily discern three voices. One was obviously Iron, and the other two were higher in pitch, which meant they were likely the two foals from the other night.
I hope I didn’t injure the little unicorn too badly, I’m not sure I could live that down. Though, if I had done some serious damage Iron would have undoubtedly turned me in, no matter the motive otherwise. After all, she is its mother, isn’t she?
A short while later Iron came back into the room, looking slightly frazzled. She had a plate of something and a glass of water expertly balanced upon her back and placed them down on a table next to Tristan. He smelled something familiar, though not particularly welcome, wafting from the plate.
“Eugh, cooked carrots? Is this for me?” Tristan said with a grimace. Iron looked genuinely surprised, and a little confused.
“Well, yes, I don’t want you to starve! And you don’t eat carrots? You were practically covered in them when you came here!” she asserted.
“Right, right, thanks...but I can’t exactly eat anything while I’m tied up, can I?” Tristan replied sarcastically.
“Oh, right,” Iron responded, looking a bit worried. “Well, I really don’t think I should untie you, you know...” she trailed off, staring intently at the floor.
“I can wait until Motley gets back, no worries, and the water does sound great,” Tristan assured her, to which she looked visibly relieved. “If you don’t mind though, could I ask you a question or two?”
“S-some questions? I don’t know...I suppose a few wouldn’t hurt,” Iron replied, looking increasingly nervous, though she still poured the water into Tristan’s mouth for him.
“I’ll get straight to it, then. Why did you allow me to live? I break into your home, assault your child, and almost kill you, and you don’t turn me over to the guards? Why?” he queried after the water was finished, hoping that she would tell him the real reason and not some convenient lie.
Iron hesitated for a moment, staring in Tristan’s direction, but not really at him. “...There has already been so much death...if I turned you in, they would have killed you. You could have killed me, but you didn’t. You even cried after you stopped...those were real tears, tears of an intelligent creature, one that obviously had emotions. How could I let you die?” Iron managed to say, tears welling in her eyes. “I couldn’t stand to have blood on my hooves, no matter what the reason. I’m just not strong enough to bear that burden...”
Tristan looked at the now crying mare and felt a poignant shame that he was the cause of her breakdown. He tried to think of ways he could comfort her but just didn’t know how, and so he just let her finish crying.
I really must be a bad person to cause this kind of anguish...I’ll have to try to make it up to her, somehow. I still have plenty of questions, but I should avoid the more sensitive ones. I’m sure they must have plenty for me, as well. I hope Motley gets back soon.
Iron finished her little breakdown and wiped away her tears with remarkable dexterity given her form. “S-sorry, it’s ju-ust, so much has happened, and now this? I’m a good pony, why does all this have to happen to me?” she stammered, attempting to gain control of her emotions.
“Well, I’m not sure how much it matters but...I’m sorry. I wish none of this ever happened either, and if I could change what I did I would, but I can’t. I’ll try my best to earn your forgiveness, but I’m not sure anything I could do would make up for what I did,” Tristan offered meekly, not really expecting a reply.
Iron was quiet for a moment as she sniffled away the last of her tears. She then looked directly into Tristan’s eyes and said in barely a whisper, “...I forgive you.”
“W-what? Really? Just like that, no strings attached, no anything, while I’m still tied up? Are you serious?” Tristan verified, unable to believe it could really be that easy.
“I still don’t trust you, and I can’t say that I even want to be your friend...but yes, I forgive you,” she replied softly. “Holding grudges can do terrible things to a pony, and they never do any good. So, for better or worse...I forgive you.”
So, just like that, she forgives me? I can’t say that I would in her position, but luckily it’s not my choice to make. Wish I could be more like that...I still have some grudges from elementary school! It does seem like she’s a tad emotional though, better make very sure to steer clear of touchy topics.
“Well, thank you for that. I’ll try to be worthy of that forgiveness. The other thing I wanted to know about, though, was the rifts in general,” Tristan began. “Earlier you looked afraid of me when you learned I came through one, and you called me a rift spawn. Care to elaborate? Why do these rifts happen?”
“Oh! Well, I’m no expert in the subject or anything, but I can tell you what most ponies know,” Iron responded, sounding more comfortable with a less personal subject. She settled down and made herself comfortable before beginning her tale. “A while back some pony researcher, I can’t recall the name, invented a way for non-unicorns to pass from place to place instantly. They did it with these neat portals, and a few of them were opened up here in Stalliongrad. However, before long, something unintended started happening as a result.
"Strange lights and sounds were being seen and heard from certain places. I saw one of the lights myself before anypony knew what was going on, coming from the Sovereign Forest, the very same you say you came from. Nopony knew what they were, but we found out later that they were actually portals to other worlds, other dimensions, ripping open without provocation, to all sorts of places!
“Sometimes living things would come through, and they-” Iron descended from intelligible speech to the strange language she actually spoke without warning. She continued on for a moment, oblivious to the fact he couldn’t understand a word she was saying, until she noticed his bewildered look.
She said something unintelligible to him, and, with a shake of his head, he responded. “Yeah...I can’t understand a word of that, whatever Motley did must have worn off.”
Iron was startled by his speech and her ears swiveled to and fro, trying to make sense of the foreign sounds. She gave him a blank stare for a moment and then let out an exclamation that sounded like she understood. She gave Tristan a sheepish grin and motioned for him to stay put.
“Yeah, not like I have any choice in the matter. I suppose there’s nothing for us to do until Motley gets back, then,” Tristan said. He knew she couldn’t understand him but he still felt the need to respond, though he felt like he was talking to a pet rather than an intelligent being.
She left the room, closing the door behind her, and Tristan was alone once more. Given that there really wasn’t anything he could do at this point, he merely squirmed a bit in his bindings to try to get a bit more comfortable and attempted to get a bit more sleep while he waited.
Tristan was awoken by the sound of screaming. The screams were coming from the direction that he assumed the rest of town was and they sounded frantic and scared, a noise that transcended the language barrier. Whatever was causing that kind of distress he didn’t want anything to do with.
At first he considered yelling to get Iron’s attention, but he then reasoned that it might attract attention from whatever was happening outside, and it wasn’t like Iron wouldn’t have been aware of what was going on. If she was going to be of any help she already would have been, so he figured he was on his own.
He attempted to carefully slide off the bed without making too much noise so that he might inch his way over to the door, only to land on his face. Grumbling from the pain he began to move at a very slow but still noticeable pace. The screams were not dying down, and he heard shouts and even an explosion accompany them, causing him to put even more effort into his pitiful attempts at movement.
Whatever’s going on I do NOT want to be tied up if it ends up involving me! Where the Hell is Iron, shouldn’t she at least check up on me or something? Whatever, I’ve got to do something myself if she’s not going to help!
Finally getting to the door, he attempted to use the wall as leverage to hoist himself up to his knees, succeeding on his fourth attempt. He used his chin to turn the door handle and fell backwards, causing the door to open just a crack.
He nudged the door open to where he could get through and found himself in the hallway he saw during his initial break in. He looked around for something at his level that could be used to cut the rope but found nothing, the knives were in drawers he had no hope of opening and he didn’t know what else would suffice. As he was about to give up hope of freeing himself he noticed something that could be of use; the sword from earlier had been put back on its plaque on the wall.
Another minute of inching his way forward got him to the wall where it was hung. Remembering how it was so poorly secured, he got to a somewhat upright position again and rammed into the wall. The plaque shuddered a bit but stuck fast to the nail that held it, prompting Tristan to try again and again to knock it free.
Eventually it did just that, falling with a clang onto the floor, leaving a terrible gash on the wooden floor. He wormed his way towards it, bruised and battered from using his body as a battering ram, and carefully rubbed the ropes against the blade as best he could.
The sounds of screaming from outside had almost completely subsided during this time, though he could still hear more in the distance. He continually jerked the ropes over the sword again and again, finally feeling some relief when one of them snapped loose, freeing the bottom part of his arms.
With his new freedom he grabbed hold of the sword and carefully cut through the rest of his bindings, trying to avoid tattering his filthy clothes any more than they already were. When he was finally free he gave his legs an extremely satisfying stretch and went to see where Iron was, sword still in hand.
She wasn’t in any of the main rooms, and neither was his backpack, which meant she must have either left the house or be in one of the smaller rooms. He decided it would be best to search them before trying to leave the house, and so he opened the first door that didn’t lead to the room he was being kept in.
The door lead to something he only just now realized that he really needed: a restroom! Though it was designed for ponies and rather strange it still had the basics, and so he knew what to do. After leaving that room there were only two possible doors left to try.
One of them has to be Iron’s room, and that would mean the other would be for the children. I hope Iron isn’t too mad, or scared, about me being up and about...oh well, too late to turn back now!
He hesitantly opened the first door, sword at his side in the least threatening manner he could think of while still keeping it ready in case it was needed. The moment he opened the door three screams came from the inside, revealing Iron and the two foals huddled in a corner, with Iron protectively covering the two.
Iron stopped her screaming when she noticed it was Tristan, though she looked fearful that he was out of his bindings. The two foals, however, kept screaming, both looking absolutely terrified of Tristan. Iron calmed them down as best she could until they were down to frightened whimpers, neither daring to look away from Tristan.
Tristan edged to the opposite corner of the room, with his free hand open in what would hopefully be interpreted as a sign that he wasn’t hostile, finally slouching down to sit with his back to the wall. Iron began babbling something at him and he simply gave her a tired stare, causing her to stop her attempted communications.
The four sat in their respective corners for a while longer, listening to the faint screams outside and what sounded like a battle. Tristan knew he didn’t want to get himself involved in it, and judging by the way Iron and her foals were huddled together, they didn’t want to either.
The sounds of battle were slowly becoming less distant as it seemed that whatever was happening was getting closer to the house once more. Tristan nervously tested his grip on the sword, unsure of what was about to happen. When the sounds came even closer he heard something that instantly sapped his courage: a cry that sounded exactly like the one he had heard come from Mecha-Bull.
His eyes widened in fear as he shrunk down further into his corner, remembering his previous encounters with the beast. Iron and the foals heard the cry as well; each of them responded by flattening their ears to their heads in distress. Tristan felt he needed to do something to help them, but he knew he couldn’t do anything against Mecha-Bull.
“I’m sorry, but our best bet is to just be quiet and sit here...just stay calm, all right?” Tristan said in what he tried to make a soothing tone of voice. The trio all looked at him, clearly still very much afraid of what was going on outside, but still keeping it together.
The seconds passed like hours as they listened to the combat outside, wishing for the battle to move elsewhere. It came closer still, then turned, diverting its path from the house and going down a different path. They let out a collective sigh of relief, only to hear something else from outside.
A voice that Tristan could still recognize even in a different language rang out; it sounded as if Motley was involved in the fight! Iron’s eyes widened as she realized what was going on. She looked despairingly down at the foals who were clinging to her for support and to Tristan, her eyes pleading him to go see what was happening.
Oh no, no way I’m going out there! I was lucky to survive the two encounters I had with that thing earlier, I am not going to put myself at risk again! But...if Motley gets killed, and if I could have done something about it...I only have two allies in this world, and he’s one of them. Plus, without him, I can’t understand anything any of these damnable ponies say...oh, I know I’m going to hate myself for this later, if there even is a later.
Tristan slowly got to his legs, urged on by Iron’s pleading look. He made his way towards the door, hesitant of leaving his sanctuary, and gave one final look back at the three. Iron had tear stains running down her muzzle, though she wasn’t actively crying, and was looking at Tristan with sympathy for what he was doing. The two foals both had their heads buried in Iron’s sides, neither willing to face the outside. With a long sigh Tristan opened up the door and stepped outside the room.
He made his way through the rest of the house to the entrance. The sounds of battle still raged on outside, with the yells of ponies, snorts from Mecha-Bull, and clangs of metal. He tentatively gripped the doorknob and turned it, sword at the ready.
Outside was a chaotic nightmare. Fires raged, consuming several houses, and dead ponies littered the streets, either dead from stabbing, trampling, or being turned to stone. The stench of blood and sweat filled the air, causing Tristan to gag a little.
He looked further down the street and saw the battle raging on at its fullest. Mecha-Bull was angrily swiping about with its horns, puffing out bits of smoke, and charging at any ponies on the ground. Several of the guard types from before were fighting it valiantly, taking every possible window of opportunity to unleash more firepower onto their foe.
Tristan did notice a slight smidgen of hope for the ponies; they were actually making progress! Though he had no idea how it happened, a few of the metallic scales were missing from its side, exposing greyish-brown pulsating flesh underneath. All of the ponies were aiming for it but Mecha-Bull dodged with surprising agility for its size and kept up the offensive to such a degree that the ponies couldn’t possibly coordinate a strategic attack upon it.
None of the ponies, nor Mecha-Bull, seemed to notice Tristan standing, overwhelmed, in front of Iron’s house. Tristan was snapped out of his stupor by the familiar cry of Motley Trade. Motley was among the fighting unicorns, hurtling fireballs of his own at Mecha-Bull, though Tristan noticed that his fireballs seemed a good deal smaller and less vibrant than those of the guards.
While the guards did have their target none of them were making any progress, and Mecha-Bull was dropping ponies like flies. Mecha-Bull was corralling the unicorns into a dead end, forcing them to all attack his strong side, while the pegasi soared about overhead desperately looking for a good way to aid their comrades.
Tristan’s heart began beating faster and faster at the thought of what he was about to do and his mind screamed at him that he was going to get himself killed. He knew that if he didn’t do something Motley would be killed, and even the whole town could be lost. As such, he grit his teeth and set off towards the fight at a sprint.
One of the pegasi noticed him for a moment and was distracted by his sudden appearance, causing it to fail to dodge a burst of green smoke. The pegasus fell from the sky like a rock, literally. Tristan didn’t slow his pace or bother to reconsider his reckless charge; he knew that there was no turning back from what he began. He got closer and closer to Mecha-Bull, eyeing the exposed vulnerable spot and preparing his sword for a strike.
Mecha-Bull was still oblivious to his charge, being fully occupied with the pegasi and unicorns in front of it. Before long it would finish cornering them, ensuring their doom. Tristan finally got close enough to attempt his attack and let out an unbidden primal warcry as he leapt forward with his sword for all he was worth, flying towards the vulnerable area at a speed he would never have dreamt of going at outside of a life or death situation.
Time seemed to slow down during his brief flight, giving him surprising clarity in the space of a mere second. He saw himself closing in further, further, right on target, he saw Mecha-Bull turn to face him before contact could be made, he saw his sword deflect uselessly off Mecha-Bull’s metallic scales, and he saw his life flash before his eyes as he realised he had failed.
He spun with the impact and landed on the ground, staring directly up into Mecha-Bull’s mighty girth. Panicking, he furiously rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow from one of Mecha-Bull’s hoof. Though he ached all over he sprung to his feet, seeing all eyes on him, including Mecha-Bull’s. He decided to do the only thing he felt he could in the situation - run as fast as he possibly could. Unfortunately, he failed to lose Mecha-Bull’s attention, and a moment after he began to sprint he heard it cry out and give chase.
Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit! Not like this!
Before Mecha-Bull was able to reach him he dove to the side into an alley on the street, letting his pursuer’s momentum keep it going past him. He found himself cornered, with only a few crates to afford him any protection. Without thinking he clambered onto them, before noticing the rooftop was still far out of his reach. Before he had time to formulate any sort of a plan Mecha-Bull was already back, charging straight at him, guards close behind.
Seeing no possible escape route, Tristan lunged forward from his perch, attempting to leap over Mecha-Bull. Either by luck or by design, however, Mecha-Bull thrashed its head, slicing a deep gash in Tristan’s abdomen with the tip of its horn. The shock of the injury stunned him, and he limply fell to the ground on his back. A hoof was raised above him and he weakly tried to roll out of the way, but was unable to avoid a hit. A hoof caught him in the abdomen, crushing down upon him. Pain worse than any he had ever experienced before rippled through his body and his eyes widened as he realised that something must have ruptured.
His vision began to swim and everything rapidly became blurry as he weakly spluttered out some blood that was welling up in his throat. He saw shapes moving in front of him and tried to move away from the commotion and attempted to make sense of the noises he was hearing. Despite his efforts everything was slowly dissolving into static and blackness. He gave one last spluttering cough and lost consciousness.
Tristan woke up in an indistinct haze, numb all over, vaguely noting that he seemed to be in a bed. He heard noises coming from around him that seemed to be voices and saw shapes swimming through his vision but was unable to make out anything. At his awakening several of the voices around him became agitated and something large and white loomed over him. He felt a very slight pressure on his arm and lost his grasp on the waking world.
The next time he awoke he was a great deal clearer and could actually make out his surroundings, though he was still quite numb. He was in what was distinctly a hospital, complete with sterile white walls and floor. There was a window but no sunlight came through, letting him know it was currently night. He was hooked up to what looked to be a few machines, though they didn’t look like any that he had seen in hospitals before.
What just happened? Is this the real world, or the pony one? Or is the pony one real? Hopefully my parents will be by soon to tell me I had an accident or something...but what if I wasn’t hallucinating or whatever? But no...that thing stomped on me, no way I’d survive that if it was real. This has got to be a normal, human hospital!
He experimented with his arms to see if he could move them, finding that he could, though not very much without ripping out all the things attached to them. He carefully moved the covers off of him, making sure to not disturb his connections, to try and take a better look at his body, hoping for some clue as to what had happened.
Removing the covers revealed bandages covering everything from his armpits to his waist. Efforts at moving his stomach yielded only pain, even through whatever numbing agent was at work. He was still wearing his pants, which looked like they had been washed. Probing of his head revealed that there were only a few bandages there and his skull seemed to be wholly intact.
If all of that was some kind of hallucination or coma dream then I should have head trauma, shouldn’t I? And those bandages on my stomach...that’s consistent with getting trampled, just like Mecha-Bull did. So that would mean that I’m still in crazy land. I guess they must have some pretty advanced medicine, though they do have magic, don’t they?
If I’m still in this pony world in...I think Iron called it Stalliongrad...wait, why would it be called Stalliongrad? That’s a pun! Ignoring that point for now...I’m not being guarded, and I’m being taken care of somewhere other than Iron’s house. Unless Motley runs a hospital that must mean the other ponies don’t want me dead any more!
That leaves what I need to do now. Let’s see...in the movies the protagonist would rip out the life giving attachments and drunkenly wander the halls to cause a mess. So, being sane...at least I hope I’m sane...I’m not going to do that. And the only other option is just lying here, but it could be worse, certainly.
Having resolved to stay put and not make things harder than they already were Tristan settled himself down, enjoying the comfort of a soft bed without the buffer of constricting ropes. Before long sleep took him once more.
He awoke to see light streaming in from the window and two ponies standing next to his bed. One was a nurse, tan in coat with the stereotypical hat, while the other was Motley Trade. The two ponies seemed to be in a bit of a debate and were oblivious to his newly awakened state, though Tristan still couldn’t understand any of the things they were saying.
Tristan conspicuously cleared his throat and gave an expectant look to Motley, startling the two out of their conversation. Motley looked Tristan over and said something to the nurse, which she responded to by backing up a few paces. Motley’s horn became surrounded in the now familiar incandescent glow and Tristan braced himself for the effects of the spell.
“Well that was certainly easier the second time. Can you understand me all right, Tristan?” Motley questioned in a casual tone.
“Yeah, thanks for that, I take it Iron told you the other one wore off?” Tristan replied, glad to finally be able to communicate again.
“Yes, sorry about that. I didn’t expect to take so long, and then...well, you know what happened next. That was the beast you described to us, wasn’t it? One of the things I went to do when I left was ask about it; apparently it just trampled its way through whatever obstacles were set for it and came to town...this whole day has just been a disaster,” Motley finished sadly with a distant look.
“That thing certainly was a monster. How did you save me, though? I remember it actually stomping on me, and there’s no way I should have survived that. And how did you get me out of there?” Tristan queried.
“Well, you actually saved me, and a lot of other ponies, in a way. Earlier in the fight one of the most talented unicorns I’ve ever known managed to blast off some of its scales, exposing a weak spot. Unfortunately, he was turned to stone soon after doing so, and the beast was all the more enraged at the attack. We just couldn’t get a good shot at it, until you distracted it.” Motley began.
“As for how we saved you, after your little chase, once it was distracted enough by stomping on you, one of the guards got a good shot on it and staggered it, allowing the rest of us to overwhelm it at once. It’s dead now, and we were able to drag you off. Your wounds were grievous, but Doctor Needles-”
“Wait, did you just say Doctor Needles?” Tristan interrupted.
“Err, yes, I did,” Motley replied, slightly miffed about being cut off.
“Thats...terrifying,” Tristan said, only half-sarcastically.
“Yes, well, as I was saying, Doctor Needles was able to patch you up pretty well. You had a ruptured stomach, a rather deep gash, and several broken ribs along with other more minor problems, I believe. If you weren’t already near a hospital you would have undoubtedly died. He was able to fix your stomach up a bit right away and set the bones, but real healing will take time,” Motley continued.
“Wow,” Tristan began, rubbing his bandages a little more carefully. “Sounds like I was pretty lucky. Anyway, I can’t help but notice I’m in a hospital...I take it that means that the guards are cool with the whole, ‘me living’ thing, then?”
“Iron and I managed to convince them to let you off, given the circumstances. There was some talk about experiments and testing though...I think I heard one of them mention the word ‘dissection’ at least once,” Motley responded with a smirk.
“It’s nice to know that I’m not going to be hun-” Tristan started. “Wait, wait, back up a moment. What?”
Motley began to laugh, causing Tristan to glare at him for a moment, before joining in the laugh as well. The nurse, who had been becoming more and more irate at being ignored, ended the joviality with a harsh look in Motley’s direction as she dutifully checked over Tristan’s hookups.
“I believe the patient needs to get some rest, don’t you? And weren’t you just telling me a moment ago about how you had some very important things to see to? You had best be on your way, Mr. Trade,” the nurse stated in a calm but somewhat hostile tone.
“Right, right...I do have things I need to get to, just stick in bed for now, I’ll be back before long with something you’re sure to like. Don’t worry yourself about the future for now, just don’t do anything stupid and you’ll be fine. I’ll see you in a few!” Motley said, turning around and briskly walking out of the room.
The nurse, satisfied with her assessment, turned around to leave as well. However, before she got to the door, she turned around to address Tristan. “You may have some ponies who are willing to vouch for you, but don’t think for a moment anypony really trusts you. I don’t want any trouble from you, or I’ll be calling the guards right in, Beast. Am I understood?”
“Yes, yes, no troubles from me!” Tristan responded quickly, taken aback by the sudden show of hostility. The mare left the room at last, but not without giving Tristan a final death glare.
Well, isn’t she just a little ball of sunshine? I guess it’d be too much to hope for instant acceptance from all of those ponies, though. Given what’s been going on the last few days, I got off pretty easy with that. All the same...better stay sharp around that one.
As for right now, I’m confined to a bed, there’s certainly not a TV or anything here, and I have absolutely nothing to do. Lovely. I hope Motley gets back soon.
The next two hours were spent twiddling thumbs, counting tiles, and invoking the wondrous powers of imagination. Finally, as Tristan was about to attempt simply getting more sleep, Motley returned, accompanied by the sour nurse from earlier and Iron.
“Mr. Trade. Mrs. Striker,” she said to them each with a curt nod. “I’ll be attending to my duties at my desk if you require assistance.” She left the room quickly, not even bothering to check Tristan. Motley and Iron seemed oblivious to her mannerisms and approached Tristan without commenting on it.
“Good to see you’ve returned! But it’s been a good while; your spell didn’t work that long last time. How can I still understand you?” Tristan greeted.
“That’s the thing I wanted to give you,” Motley levitated an unassuming circular metal pendant on a chain he was wearing towards Tristan. “See, the spell wears off of living things pretty quickly, but it can last years if put on an inanimate object. Anything said within five feet or so of this pendant will be translated into the language the listener is most comfortable with. I’m not quite skilled enough to perform an enchantment like that, so I had to go get the help of one of my friends.”
“Wow, impressive! But I wasn’t within five feet, so how could I understand it?” Tristan asked, still getting used to the whole idea of magic being real.
“Well, it’s a little complicated, but you can think of it like a buffer of sorts. Any words passing through the effective radius are enchanted to where they’ll be heard in the listener’s native language. It doesn’t really affect the mind, so much as it affects the words themselves!” Motley replied, looking pleased with himself for knowing so much.
“You could have just said, ‘It’s magic, it just works,’ that’s usually enough for me,” Iron added.
“I think it’s fascinating, actually,” Tristan began. “We don’t have magic where I come from; it’s just the kind of thing you hear about in myths and legends. Thanks for the pendant, by the way!” he finished, allowing Motley to slip the chain over his neck.
“So there’s absolutely no magic in your world? How could anything survive? Does your sun just stay in one place?” Motley asked, genuinely confused.
“Things get by just fine. Do you really rely on it that much? And the sun staying in one place? Perhaps this place is even more different than I originally thought, but what? The sun moving isn’t magic, it’s just, well, science!” Tristan answered.
“Alright, enough of this science and magic talk, I’ve been through too much these last two days to deal with that,” Iron cut in, looking exasperated. “I just came in here to see if you were doing all right, and to thank you for going to help Motley the other day. I was a little afraid you’d just run out of the city, to be honest.”
“You two are the first friendly beings I’ve met since I got here; I couldn’t just leave you. Besides, where else could I go? If I left I was dead, if I tried to help you I was probably dead, but not surely. And me sitting here now proves I made the right choice,” Tristan explained.
“Regardless of the motivation, I’m glad you decided to help. Anyway, Iron and I had better get going, jobs to work, children to feed, and all that. You’ll be here for a while with those injuries, but we’ll try to visit you when we have time,” Motley remarked.
“It must be lonely sitting there all by yourself all day with the private room and all. I could try to get you a book if you’d like,” Iron offered, eyeing the spacious yet almost completely empty room.
“If the translation spell works for them, I’d love one!” Tristan excitedly declared, to which Motley nodded his head in affirmation. “If I’m going to be here for a while anything about...I just realised I don’t know what this place is even called, actually.”
“It’s Equestria,” Motley quickly supplied.
“Right. Yes. Of course it would be. Equestria, Stalliongrad, and let me guess...Manehattan?” Tristan sarcastically commented.
“Wait, so you do know some places?” Iron innocently inquired.
Tristan was just silent for a moment, giving her a blank stare. “You know what, I’m just going to accept that. Doesn’t translate right, must be it. Yeah, I’m sticking with that,” Tristan said to no one in particular.
Iron and Motley looked at each other worriedly but neither were willing to ask about what Tristan was going on about. After saying their goodbyes they left Tristan alone in the room once more to contemplate his strange situation.
Iron and Motley did not return that day, much to Tristan’s disappointment. Doctor Needles was the only visitor he got, and that was only for the unpleasant business of further bone repair and a quick introduction. He was anxious to be up and about but kept Motley’s words in mind about not doing anything stupid, and so ended the day peaceably.
Tristan was awoken by the sound of a great deal of hooves clopping on the tiles outside of his room. A moment later a full squad of guards, eight in all, billowed into the room, all but one standing at attention along the wall. The one guard who kept moving to Tristan seemed to be the leader and was followed by a breathless Doctor Needles.
The lead guard briskly assessed Tristan with a scrutinizing gaze and spoke to Doctor Needles in a deep voice. “The subject is stable enough to move, correct?”
“Yes...but...he shouldn’t...be moved...unless necessary...” Needles wheezed out, not used to having to keep up with trained guards.
“Princess Celestia herself has deemed it necessary, and it is our duty to enact her decree that it is to be brought to her. Prepare it for immediate transport via chariot. We will be waiting outside,” the head guard said in an overly official tone.
“Umm...do I get any say in this?” Tristan meekly protested, only to be ignored by everyone in the room.
Moments later he was strapped to a mobile bed, sans wires and monitors, and carried through the hospital. All around ponies either stared at or cringed in fear of him, most stopping whatever they had been doing completely. All Tristan could do was give a weak grin as he passed by them, trying to make himself seem as nonthreatening as possible.
He was taken outside in such a way that the sunlight shone directly into his eyes, disorienting him further. By the time his eyes adjusted he had been loaded up into a chariot that was hooked up to two of the pegasi guards, next to another chariot filled with the unicorns and ponies without wings or horns.
He wasn’t able to emit even a single protest before the chariot lurched and began on its way, not on the ground, but into the air! Tristan could only see the sky above him and the sides of the chariot, given his position strapped to the bed.
Well, not even a chance to say goodbye to Iron and Motley! Just when they start treating me like an actual civilized being, there’s this bunch of crap. And did they say...princess?
Tristan yelled out several choice expletives that were lost to the wind as they sailed ever higher into the sky. All he knew was that if he screwed this meeting up, he was completely and totally doomed.
For the next few hours Tristan was stuck strapped to his bed, unable to wriggle free. Even if he had been able to, he knew there was nowhere to go, as the cold and wind hinted at the chariot being very high up in the sky. Any attempts to gain the attention of the guards, for any reason, were ignored; whether that was because of the wind drowning out his voice or because they were purposefully ignoring him was unclear. He decided to use the time to rehearse his story in his mind, so that he wouldn’t stumble over his words too much in his inevitable meeting.
He could have dealt with all of that, though, if not for one thing. He became filled with an increasingly urgent need to relieve himself; though all of his cries for the chariot to pull over were futile. The trip lasted several hours, with him needing to go for about half of it.
At long last the chariot finally began to descend, causing Tristan to let out an audible cheer, which was again met with silence from his escorts. The climate they had arrived at felt a lot warmer than the frigid weather of Stalliongrad, though he hadn’t noticed the change amid the biting cold that had come with the flight.
The chariot finally came to a halt under what appeared to be a castle. There was no other way Tristan could describe what he was seeing; the white, gold, and purple towers complete with battlements he saw jutting into the sky were proof enough. Before he was hauled off into the castle he saw a group of pegasus guards flawlessly flying in a tight formation around the fortifications.
He was unceremoniously hoisted up out of the chariot by magic and carried toward a large double door leading into the castle. Guards in shining golden armor were everywhere, and all of them seemed to have an eye on Tristan. He noticed that while there were unicorns, pegasi, and those with neither a horn nor wings, their coloration was always the same: either grey or white. This conflicted with the almost nauseatingly colorful ponies he saw during his brief stay in Stalliongrad.
I really, REALLY need to go right now, but these guards haven’t acknowledged a thing I’ve said since they collected me...I hope this meeting is done quickly! At least if this princess orders my execution I won’t have to go so badly!
The guards took him through the grand double doors to an entryway that left him speechless. Though his vision was restricted by his position he could see immaculate tapestries and other decorations everywhere. The walls were of all different values of purple and gold, giving a regal feeling. There was no doubt that this was the dwelling of royalty, or at least high nobility.
The spacious halls were not busy, and no ponies other than guards could be seen. Not a single servant, noble, or petitioner was in view. There were no sounds, either, save for the rapid clopping of hooves upon the floor.
After travelling through the entry hallway the ceiling opened up to reveal a grand room, though he couldn’t see where he was being taken to exactly. His heart began to race as he anticipated the judgement of their ruler, while trying to not wet himself.
He was eventually brought to a halt and set down on the ground. He could see towering above him a magnificent pony, far larger than any that he had seen before. The size made it look like more of a horse than a pony, and it was gifted with both a horn and wings. It was adorned with bright jewelry and its mane was strangely flowing as if it was caught in the wind, despite the fact that there was no breeze in the room. Everything about its countenance screamed nobility and grace.
“Thank you for bringing him to me, you are dismissed,” it said in a commanding, yet almost motherly tone.
“Yes, your highness!” The guards all saluted in unison and promptly marched out of the room without another word nor a single glance back, closing the door behind them and leaving only Tristan and the grand pony in the room.
This has got to be the princess they were talking about...this thing is something else! And both a horn and wings, that’s gotta mean something. Just be calm, don’t insult her, and try not to piss yourself...come on, you can do this, Tristan, you can do this.
He looked up at the pony to see her staring down at him with a scrutinizing, yet not hostile, glare. “I am Princess Celestia, co-ruler of this land. I understand that you have attacked some of my subjects, is that correct?” she questioned in an even tone.
“Y-yes, your highness, majesty, sir, ma’am, err,” Tristan blurted out in fear, not daring to cross this obviously powerful being, especially not in his current state. He had expected to deal with some sort of snobbish royalty, but the difference between this pony and the others he had met was palpable.
“The normal policy is for all rift spawn to be kept within walls away from pony kind and destroyed on sight, yet this was not the case for you. I will give you a chance to explain your actions to me, as well as your circumstances, before I pass judgement,” Celestia stated with an unreadable expression, not showing the slightest hint of anger, pity, fear, or anything of the sort.
“I came here by accident, I swear! One moment I was in my home town, the next I was falling through a rift to some forest! All I did was try to survive; I’m really not a violent person. Yes, I did attack ponies, but where I come from ponies aren’t intelligent, they’re just animals!” Tristan stated with agitated gusto.
Wait, I just mentioned that ponies are animals on Earth! If she takes that as an insult I’m so screwed...
Celestia did not respond to him and merely waited for him to continue, still not betraying any emotion. “My first encounter didn’t go so well, I waylaid a pony pulling a cart. Looking back on it now I know it was foolish, but the only experience I had to go off of was guards that were trying to kill me. If I left the pony alone I would likely have starved, if I attacked I would possibly make it. I didn’t consider a peaceable approach because I didn’t think ponies were peaceable,” he continued, unable to make direct eye contact.
“When I broke into Iron’s home I was just looking for supplies, I didn’t want to have to hurt any ponies...but then I was caught, and I had to do something. I attacked Iron and her kid and almost killed her, but I couldn’t. I saw that you ponies were, well...human, in a way, and I couldn’t kill one of you. After having spoken with Iron I feel terrible about attacking her, I really do...if I had killed her, she would have left two kids alone in the world,” Tristan trailed off at the end, imagining two orphans crying out for a mother that would never again respond.
“I’m really, really sorry for what I did. I just want to go home, to see my family again. All I ever wanted to do was survive, is that really so bad?” he finished wistfully. The die were cast; he couldn’t think of anything else he could say to plead his case.
Celestia was silent for what seemed like an eternity to him while he fought the urge to squirm to get more comfortable. Instead he nervously glanced at her and away again over and over, attempting to keep some semblance of calm but failing miserably. “I care for all living things here in Equestria, and I have always held their interests at heart, great and small. Rift spawn such as yourself have been excluded from that, for it had been found that you are all mindless beasts. You have proven that wrong in your speech. Not only can you communicate, but you show something that is very important for all intelligent beings to have: empathy,” Celestia began.
“The fact that you proclaim regret for what you have done says many things about you. Specifically, it shows that there is hope for peaceful co-existence,” she continued. At the end of her statement Tristan’s eyes immediately lit up.
Is she seriously saying what I think she’s saying? Yes, go Tristan, +10 diplomacy!
“However,” she continued once more, before Tristan could get a word in edgewise. "This does not change the fact that you have acted violently towards innocent ponies. I can sympathise with your circumstances, but they do not absolve you of your guiltiness,” she finished, fracturing Tristan’s hope.
“So...uh...what are you going to have done with me, then?” Tristan asked pathetically.
“That depends a great deal on yourself. It would be rash to make a decision so quickly, and so you will be kept under close supervision while you heal. After that, we shall see what is to become of you,” Celestia responded, her tone finally softening somewhat.
“So, does that mean I’m not going to be executed or something?” Tristan confirmed.
“No, you will not be executed. I’ve seen you myself and you do not seem to be any great threat to my little ponies, but that does not mean you are free to roam as you please. For now simply focus on recovering from your injuries; I will be keeping a close eye on your progress,” Celestia answered.
Upon hearing that he would not perish relief flooded through Tristan, finally relaxing the tension he had been carrying for hours. That relaxation came at a price, however, as he found he had just wet himself.
“Oh shit!” he cried out reflexively, trying to stop himself, but to no avail. Celestia, to her credit, did not look perturbed in the slightest.
“It seems you have some needs that must be seen to,” she started with the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. “Guards, I am finished!” she called out, at which several guards burst through the doorway and briskly trotted up to the two.
“He is to be taken to finish his recovery. Treat him as a guest, see to his needs, but do not allow him to walk freely through the castle,” she addressed to the guards, who saluted in unison again and began to wheel Tristan off.
He was taken through numerous corridors of the castle before descending some stairs, ending up in a lavish, though rather dusty, room in a remote section of the castle. The guards did not unbind him, instead just leaving him in his mobile bed sitting in the middle of the room, soaking in his own secretion.
“Hey, wait, aren’t you supposed to untie me? You have no idea how uncomfortable this is!” Tristan called out to them as they filed out of the room without a glance back. The door shut behind them, leaving Tristan in the room alone.
They aren’t just going to leave me in here like this, are they? I suppose this beats being executed...but that doesn’t really change the fact that this is incredibly uncomfortable. And she said to treat me like a guest; I can’t imagine that they’d treat many guests like this!
He was alone for a while, during which time he examined the room as best he could. It had a comfortable-looking though rather small bed, a window that let in the daylight, two doors, and other assorted furniture. Overall, it was a nice room, though the musty smell alluded to its disuse. Having nothing better to do, he decided to take stock of his situation.
So, I’m not going to be killed, but I’m still not free. They’ve left me tied to this bed, but in a nice room. Still no idea about how the Hell I’m supposed to get back home, but there will be time for that question when I’m not lying in piss soaked sheets. And it feels like the pain from my stomach is coming back, wonderful. I hope they get someone in here soon...
After a few more boring minutes he saw the door open, revealing a light blue unicorn with a cream colored mane and a mark of an open book being written in with a quill on its flank. The unicorn looked dispassionate and incredibly serious, not showing any sort of reaction to Tristan lying in front of him.
“A real rift spawn, and one that’s not trying to kill me at that...how very interesting! I am to be your caretaker, so to speak. You may address me as Lore; I am a researcher who has studied the effects of the rifts, and now you,” the pony formally stated in a decidedly male voice, oblivious to Tristan’s discomfort.
“Yeah, that’s fascinating and all, and my name is Tristan, but as you may be able to see I’m not exactly in a very good position here. Any chance you could unstrap me from this thing?” Tristan said, not caring much about polite pretense at the moment.
“Yes, yes, I suppose it would be best to get you out of those bindings. Princess Celestia herself has proclaimed that you are not overtly dangerous, but if for whatever reason you decide to be violent, keep in mind I can and will defend myself, understood?” Lore half-threatened while undoing Tristan’s bindings with his magic.
Right, this guy is sure to be loads of fun. I’ll bet he’s just the life of the party...
Tristan finally rose from bed and heaved his legs over the side, planting them on the floor. The moment he attempted to sustain balance unassisted, however, he was struck by a sharp pain in his gut and immediately fell to the floor, groaning in pain.
“Oh my...you really shouldn’t be attempting to get up like that in your condition. Allow me,” Lore said without any real empathy evident in his voice, levitating Tristan up to the stationary bed. “I’ll be back in later for some questions, but before I leave I was told to ask you if there was anything you needed. Is there?” he asked indifferently. While there was no malice in his voice, there wasn’t any inflection of kindness either.
“No, I’m perfectly comfortable just as I am,” Tristan started, sarcasm dripping from his voice. At that, however, Lore turned around and began to walk towards the door without another word. “H-hey! Wait, that was sarcasm! I’m most definitely not comfortable!” he cried out, regretting his choice.
“I need a change of clothes, something for this pain, and some food. You think you would be able to help with those?” Tristan questioned, already starting to dislike the unicorn.
“I believe provisions could be made for those, yes. Do stay in the room while I’m gone. Believe me, you do not want to cause any trouble. For your own good, of course. Goodbye for now,” Lore responded, finishing his walk to the door and exiting, leaving Tristan alone again.
That guy is supposed to be my caretaker? Lovely. At least he seems like he’s competent enough, I really do need a change of clothes...though, how would they have clothes for me? They’re not bipeds, so either they’re going to have to make something or they’ll give me something generic. Besides, most of them don’t even wear clothes! Given my luck recently, I’m going to have to go with something generic.
His latest wait proved shorter than the first, ending as the door opened again to reveal a pony that was obviously a nurse, wheeling a cart covered in all sorts of objects. By this time Tristan found he could recognize the differences in genders between ponies, and could distinguish that this one was a female. She had a clean white coat with matching wings, a light brown mane kept in a tight bun, and a mark of a stethoscope on her flank.
The nurse started to walk through the doorway, saw Tristan, and let out a small, “oh!” She then hastily backtracked, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Tristan didn’t have time to think about what just happened, as he heard her knocking.
She’s...knocking on the door? Huzzah, common courtesy does exist in this whacked-out universe! I like her already.
He called for her to come in, which she did. Her first few steps towards Tristan were small and uneasy, but at the behest of Tristan’s non-threatening gaze she sped up and reached him.
“Hello there dearie, I’m Nurse Nightingale,” she began, putting on as brave of a face as she could in front of Tristan.
“And my name is Tristan, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Really, there’s no need to be afraid, I mean you no harm,” he responded, lifting up his open hands to accentuate his message. She gave him a small smile at that and began her work.
“I hear you’ve had some pretty bad abdominal trauma, is that right?” she questioned, scrutinizing Tristan’s now soiled bandages.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad from what I’ve gathered; it didn’t hurt much earlier but it’s been hurting more and more. The bandages kinda sting now too, given, well...” Tristan trailed off at the end, fighting off a slight blush of embarrassment at having wet himself.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ve got just the things you need right here, but first we’ve got to get these bandages off of you,” Nightingale assured him, helping him prop himself up against the headboard of the bed and gently unwinding his bandages.
The scene underneath the bandages made Tristan rather queasy. While there were no incisions evident, and the gash he had from earlier was nowhere to be seen, purple and red discoloration bloomed forth from where he knew the hoof had made contact with him and the whole area looked scratched up and sensitive. He knew that the scene underneath the skin must have been gruesome.
Nightingale was unfazed by the sight and started to work, deftly sponging off the area and applying a thick, cool cream. Tristan was silent as she worked, still amazed at the dexterity ponies could show with their hooves and mouths. Nightingale wrapped Tristan back up with some fresh bandages, and began rummaging around in her cart again.
“Hey, I just wanted to say thanks for this. You’re being very professional about bandaging me up. I can’t imagine that it’s very easy for you considering I’m apparently supposed to be some sort of monster here,” Tristan offered, genuinely grateful for her unflinching assistance.
“You don’t seem like much of a monster to me, dearie! What matters is that you’re hurt, and I can help. Besides, it is my job after all, isn’t it?” Nightingale responded, still rummaging around in her cart.
“Well, all the same, thanks. That cream you put on isn’t really helping with the pain though; it’s still getting worse. Does it take awhile to act or something?” Tristan queried, becoming more and more uncomfortable with his internal pain, though the burning from the old bandages had stopped at least.
“Don’t be thanking me yet, I haven’t given you the stuff for your pain...ah, here we are!” she answered, pulling from the cart one of the thickest needles Tristan had ever seen.
“Woah, you can’t be serious! That thing is huge! I think I’ll tough it out, thanks!” Tristan cried out in fear.
“The pain you have is just going to keep getting worse; this is for your own good. Now, are you going to lie still or am I going to have to get some help in here?” she asserted.
Tristan weighed his options for a moment, his fear of the guards eventually winning over his fear of the needle. Resigned to his cruel fate he submitted, presenting his arm to her. One painful prick later everything rapidly became numb as all of his pain oozed away.
“That...works really well, actually. How can it work that well? There’s no way that could have already circulated or whatever it needs to do,” Tristan said sedately, the numbness taking away his cares.
“I’m not sure what goes into it myself, it’s those unicorns that make it. Bless them, they sure do make my job easier with all of their fancy inventions. Now, I’ve got a gown here for you that should fit, though it might be a little big. We keep a few in stock for non-ponies, and you’re similar enough to a minotaur for this to work,” Nightingale replied.
“Wait, so there are other creatures besides ponies that are sentient here? By minotaur you do mean like the head of a bull, torso and arms like mine, and cloven feet, right? I’m not sure if that’s exactly how they’re supposed to be, but close enough,” Tristan stated, bewildered once more.
“Of course there are other races! Minotaurs, diamond dogs, gryphons, and zebras, just to name a few. And yes, that would be pretty much be a minotaur.” she responded as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Interesting...not only do other sentient races exist here, but some from human myths as well, it seems. What’s more, I heard minotaur, which meant the translation worked to an equivalent that I know, even though I’ve never seen a minotaur from here. I wish I knew how this magic worked; I wonder if I can learn how to use it later on...
As Tristan was deep in thought Nightingale unfolded a gown from her cart, flittering up into the air to judge its dimensions, finding it satisfactory. She then laid it at the foot of the bed and addressed Tristan. “Alright, get out of those nasty clothes you’ve got on and try that gown on. We’ll see about getting you bathed later, but for right now we won’t worry about that. I’ll be back soon with some food, did you have anything specific in mind that you wanted me to fetch?”
Don’t say bacon don’t say bacon don’t say bacon...
“Uhh...” Tristan responded, thinking of what ponies might have that he would be able to eat. “I’m really not sure what you would have, actually. Could you just bring me some things you think I might like? If you have something along the lines of grass, though, I can’t eat that.”
“One combo platter, no grass, coming right up!” she responded with a kindly smile. “Do be careful when you’re changing your clothes, try not to strain yourself or stretch out too much,” she added, finally wheeling off the cart and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.
Now there’s a pony I can genuinely like...it’s nice to know that some of them are friendly, at least. Wish that unicorn guy, Lore, was more like that. Oh well, beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.
Tristan tentatively twisted to and fro, assessing his state to see if it caused any pains. Upon finding that it didn’t he cautiously changed into the gown, finding it a bit big but otherwise comfortable, and threw his soiled clothes into a corner of the room. He spent the rest of his time peacefully lying in the bed, enjoying a moment to relax amid the chaos that his life had become.
As he was about to drift off a knock came from the door, soon followed by Nightingale wheeling another cart. This cart was laden down with all manner of succulent looking fruits, drinks, and pastries. The smell wafting from the fresh pastries instantly set Tristan’s stomach rumbling, reminding him of his hunger.
“I hope these work for you, I tried to get a variety,” Nightingale commented, loading a few items on a plate and pouring a glass of orange juice for Tristan. “I figure you deserve a little treat after being such a good patient, after all.”
“It looks amazing, thanks a lot!” Tristan exclaimed, gratefully accepting the proffered plate and glass. He was answered by a smile from Nightingale, who had clearly lost all of her previous fear of him. The next few minutes passed with Nightingale attending to him, fetching food from the tray and making sure he kept the bed clean.
After his feast was finished and his stomach was full Nightingale packed up the cart again. “Well, that’s the end of my duties for now, dearie. You know, there were all sorts of rumors that you were some terrible monster going around in the halls, but you’ve certainly proved those wrong. I’ll go fetch Mr. Lore, I think he has some questions for you. Is there anything you need before I go?” she concluded, still giving Tristan a warm smile.
“No, you’ve taken care of everything, thanks again! You sure are nice, for a pony. I mean, err, I’m sure ponies are usually nice, but, err...” Tristan faltered awkwardly at the end, regretting his choice of words.
“They’re just frightened of you, that’s all,” Nightingale assured him knowingly. “I don’t know how much you know about the rift crisis, but there’s some good reasons for them to be. I’ll let Lore talk with you about that though, it’s really not my place. Goodbye for now!” she finished, wheeling the cart out of the room after Tristan said his farewell.
Tristan didn’t have time to reflect on the day any further as Lore arrived promptly, several scrolls and quills floating behind him in that strange aura unicorns made. Unlike Nightingale he did not bother knocking, nor did he even acknowledge Tristan until he was at the bed.
“I trust that your requests have been taken care of appropriately?” Lore questioned without a hello.
“Yes, Nightingale was very helpful,” Tristan responded. “You could stand to learn a thing or two,” he muttered softly under his breath.
Lore either didn’t hear or didn’t care as he unfurled one of the scrolls, scanning its contents. “Let’s see...I recognize that you must have many questions of your own, so let’s trade a question for a question, shall we?” he inquired rhetorically.
At a small nod from Tristan he cleared his throat and began. “Do you have any magical or supernatural capabilities, such as telekinesis, mind reading, or the ability to create an elemental attack?”
“Hah, I wish!” Tristan started with a laugh, which garnered only a harsh stare from Lore. “Err, I mean, no, I’m just a plain mundane human. Do I get to ask a question now?”
“Yes, though if it’s anything that I deem you are unfit to know I will not answer the question,” Lore stiffly responded.
“All right, let’s get right to the big one. Can I get home? And if so, how?” Tristan queried.
Lore merely let out a sigh and put his hoof up to his face. “You didn’t waste any time getting to that, did you? I can answer your question, but I’ll need to explain the rifts as well, so it’ll count as two. How much do you know about the rifts so far?”
“Not much, just that rifts started opening up in specific places to other worlds,” Tristan answered.
“Then I’ll go into why the rifts began first, so you won’t be completely lost at everything else I tell you,” Lore began. “A brilliant magical researcher, whom I have collaborated with before, known as Bright Future made a breakthrough with teleportation magic. Normally, teleportation requires an experienced and powerful unicorn to cast a spell, making it infeasible for mass transportation of goods or ponies.”
“He was learned in the magical arts, and so, was well acquainted with the works of the great Starswirl the Bearded, a powerful unicorn who lived long ago and made many breakthroughs of his own. One theory that Starswirl came up with was never tested and largely left to antiquity: the multiverse theory.”
“Hey, I’ve heard of that!” Tristan interrupted, sheepishly motioning zipping his mouth shut at Lore’s indignant glare.
“Continuing on, the theory stated that there are an infinite number of universes, each slightly different from each other. A dimensional barrier of sorts is all that keeps each universe apart, and is theorized to be what is manipulated when a unicorn casts a teleportation spell. The spell essentially scrunches up the barrier for a split second, moving the unicorn across only a very short distance rather than whatever distance the teleportation took them across.”
“Bright Future theorized that a portal could be made using this barrier, basically making semi-permanent scrunch in it between two specific places. While that may sound like a very radical and dangerous idea, given that teleportation does it all the time, it was not expected to have any adverse effects.”
“His attempts succeeded, and the portal network was born. Soon, portals stood linking every major population center and the economy boomed with the ease of transportation. Before long, however, strange happenings began to occur. Bizzare lights and sounds were noticed coming from some areas, notably natural magic hotspots, such as the Everfree Forest. Nopony thou-”
“Stop for a moment, sorry. What’s a natural magic hotspot? I’m unfamiliar with the term, and you didn’t show any signs of letting up with your lecture...” Tristan interrupted once again.
“My lecture? If you find this boring then come right out and say it; I don’t want to waste my breath explaining such a matter to one who does not wish to listen!” Lore retorted in a semi-hostile voice.
“Woah, uhh, I didn’t mean to be rude, I honestly don’t know! I think the story is really interesting, honest!” Tristan shot back quickly.
Lore let out a huff and regained his composure, taking back his normal speaking tone. “A natural magic hotspot, or NMH, is a place where natural magics override the normal ambient magic in Equestria. This causes strange effects, such as unregulated weather and bizarre animal behavior,” he continued, calming down fully towards the end.
“Continuing on once more, I’ll try to condense this a little so that you actually understand what I’m saying. A small research team with a guard escort was sent to the Everfree Forest to investigate these happenings. After several days of not being close enough to any opening rifts before they closed they witnessed a rift opening in front of them. The world through the rift was dark, even though it was currently daytime, and a terrible worm-like monster slithered through the rift, managing to kill two guards before being slain itself,” Lore continued, dispassionate even at the description of death. Tristan had the feeling from the way he spoke that he had to have explained this many times before.
“Research was conducted that eventually found that the portal network was not only using the dimensional barrier, but weakening it. A royal decree caused all portals to be shut down, but the damage was done. The rifts continued to open, and nopony has figured out how to reinforce the barrier yet. It’s still not known why they most often appear in NMH’s, though they sometimes appear outside of these areas. For this reason every town has been garrisoned with guards, something previously unheard of.”
“So...you’re saying that the rifts open by themselves, and you can’t control them? How can I get home, then?” Tristan questioned, his hopes plummeting at the explanation.
“Well, we have not been able to open a rift ourselves, and even if we could there would be no way of finding which universe you came from in the first place. Given time a way may be devised, perhaps you hold the key to finding your home universe in you, but currently there’s nothing to be done about it,” Lore responded. Tristan thought that he could almost discern some sympathy in his voice towards the end, but couldn’t quite be sure.
So that’s it...no way home, I’m stuck here. I’ll most likely never see my parents, Eric, anyone that I’ve ever known again. No goodbyes, no closure, nothing...
Tristan fought the urge to cry, his eyes moistening despite his efforts. The thought of losing all that he had was overwhelming, and he zoned out for a moment, trying to process the information. In the days prior he had been either focused on his survival or on finding his way home, and to have that hope taken from him now was terrible.
“...I can see that you are rather...distraught,” Lore began tentatively. “If you would like some time to ruminate, I suppose I can come back later when you’re feeling more stable.”
“...No, ask your questions, I’m all right,” Tristan said weakly, sniffling slightly to better compose himself.
“All right, then...next up, the report that came with you mentioned that you said there was no magic in your world. Is that true?” Lore asked in his usual way.
“No, no magic at all. We get by just fine with technology. Magic does exist, but only in legends and the like: it’s never been proven to be real. Speaking of legends, we’ve got unicorns and pegasi in our myths as well, but they don’t actually exist,” Tristan answered evenly, successfully recomposing himself.
“Fascinating, perhaps something like the current rifts happened long ago and caused interdimensional cross-contamination between our races, so to speak. That leads to another question, what kind of technology do you have?” Lore queried.
“Oh, tons. Planes that transport people through the air, computers that can do math and the like millions of times faster than a person could, enough weapons to kill all life on the planet several times over...that kinda stuff,” Tristan responded, adding in the last part to try to get some sort of a reaction out of Lore.
“Really? Such advances must have created utopia! But then, the part about the weapons is a little worrisome...” Lore drifted into thought at the end, absently staring out the window.
Their exchange continued for a long time, each learning a great deal about the other's culture. Tristan learned of the three pony races and the other sentient creatures throughout Equestria, the basic things that magic was used for, and the duties of princesses Celestia and Luna, among other things. Lore learned about all of the advances that humans had made to dominate their world, the animal counterparts to ponies, cows, and the like in Tristan’s dimension, and much more.
Lore eventually bade Tristan goodnight as the sun began to set, taking his wealth of notes with him. Tristan, exhausted by the transaction of knowledge, fell asleep without any difficulty.
The next week consisted largely of sitting around and doing nothing. Lore stopped by daily to ask Tristan more questions and to divulge more about Equestria. Nurse Nightingale, who was apparently assigned to him now, kept him comfortable and saw to his daily needs, medical or otherwise.
Towards the end of the week Tristan’s injuries were nowhere near as severe as they once were and he was eased off of the pain-killing medication. His days fell into a comfortable routine, which didn’t change until the seventh day.
Tristan awoke as he had every morning prior, to the tantalizing smell of a hot breakfast being brought in by Nightingale. Unlike the previous mornings, however, Lore was accompanying her. Upon Tristan’s asking of why he was there he simply said he would wait until after the meal, making Tristan nervous as he ate.
As soon as Tristan finished Lore spoke up. “As you know, I have been keeping Princess Celestia informed about your progress. She has deemed that now is the time for another audience, and so we’ll prepare you for it. Are there any questions?” Lore informed Tristan, seeming a bit more agitated than usual.
Tristan had been dreading this, and had hoped that he would have a little longer before he had to meet with her again. As such, he was a little nervous. “When is this going to be? And am I going to meet with her in this gown? You still haven’t given me my pants back, after all. How would I even get to her?” he asked quickly, his nerves showing prominently.
“It won’t be for a few more hours, we’ll attempt to have you walk with a cane, if you cannot you’ll be given a wheelchair, and as for clothing, you remember when we measured you, correct?” Lore responded easily, having been anticipating those very questions.
“Oh...right! I take it that means you finally got some clothes for me?” Tristan exclaimed, excited at the prospect of finally wearing something both meant to be worn by him and wholly intact.
“Yes, we’ve had an outfit made for you, and if it fits more shall be made, so you don’t have to reek so often,” Lore responded tactlessly. “Nurse, could you please bring in the clothes and the cane? I have a few matters to go over with Tristan.”
“Of course! Be back in a moment,” Nightingale cheerfully answered. She left the room, and Lore’s face became even more serious than before, if such a thing was even possible.
“Now then, I understand you were not properly instructed on etiquette before your first meeting with the princess, but there are some things you need to remember. Firstly, make sure you use the restroom before you have an audience,” Lore began tersely.
“Yes, because I intended to wet myself in front of royalty. Real top-notch advice, Lore,” Tristan snarkily replied.
“Hmmph. Well. You must also remember to address her formally, and treat her with the utmost respect. She is the one that raises the sun in the sky, you really don’t go any higher than that. This time, if you’re rude, I’ll be the one humiliated, so you had best behave,” Lore continued indignantly.
“Further, you are only to speak when spoken to. I don’t know if that’s a rule you’re familiar with from your home, but it is one of the most important when dealing with royalty. You must also remember to bow upon first seeing her, and do not rise until she commands it. I will be beside you the entire time, so if you decide to do something stupid, I will know about it, understood?” Lore finished, making sure to give Tristan an extra-special death glare.
“Oh come on, I’m not some uncivilized brute. I’ll be on my best behavior, and I would have been before if it wasn’t for the circumstances. You get put in my place and try acting better than I did,” Tristan responded casually, long since accustomed to Lore’s disdainful attitude.
Lore didn’t have a chance to continue further as a knock was heard, announcing Nightingale’s return. “You don’t have to knock, you know!” Lore cried out impatiently, at which Nightingale entered with the cane and clothes in tow.
“It’s just polite dearie, shouldn’t you be the type to know that?” Nightingale said, flashing Tristan a sly wink, unbeknownst to Lore.
“Moving on...” Lore dismissively stated as he levitated the clothes up, inspecting them closely. They consisted of some plain, sturdy looking brown boots, pants made of a black fabric that Tristan didn’t recognize, and a plain white button-up shirt. Tristan noted that there were no undergarments, though he supposed ponies really didn’t have a use for those. “I know you have that strange sense of modesty, so we’ll leave you alone while you change. Please be quick, we’ll be waiting outside.”
With that the two turned tail and left, closing the door behind them. Tristan examined the clothes, finding them to be made out of a tough yet comfortable-feeling fabric he had never felt before. A moment of struggling with the clothes and his gown yielded results as the clothes slipped on, fitting near perfectly.
At a call from Tristan, Nightingale and Lore re-entered the room, Nightingale complementing Tristan on his new attire with Lore being stoic as always. “They seem to fit properly, very good. Now, let’s see if this cane is enough for you to walk on, shall we?” Lore questioned, not really expecting an answer.
Tristan hefted his legs over the bed, trepidatiously easing his feet onto the floor, remembering the pain that standing brought the last time he tried it. Lore levitated the plain wooden cane into Tristan’s hand, and he attempted to stand. He winced at the presumed jolt of pain, though it never came. His legs were quite shaky and he felt a great deal weaker than before, causing him to lean heavily on the cane, but there was no pressing pain.
“So it seems you can stand alright, excellent,” Lore began as he saw Tristan maintaining balance without much issue. “That makes things easier. Go get yourself washed up and try not to ruin those clothes. I’ll be back later,” he finished, leaving without a goodbye yet again.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just a little stressed is all. You just practice walking with that cane and I’ll go draw you a bath, alright?” Nightingale chimed in, going through the other door, which lead to the bathroom.
Tristan stretched out a bit, cracking joints long since un-popped. He found that he was fairly slow with the cane, but it felt marvellous to be walking again all the same. He realized that he had yet to actually look outside the window, as he didn’t have a very good view from the bed and he was never taken to it on the rare occasions that he had been transported out of it for washing, so he went to take a look.
The view outside was amazing, and nothing like what he was expecting. Instead of a town or city outside, he found that the castle was situated high up in the air, jutting over the side of a cliff. Directly beneath his room, after a few more layers of castle, was a sheer drop to the land below. He could see the edge of a waterfall flowing down from the castle, crashing into a river far below.
Either this place has supports made of diamond stuck deep in the mountain, or magic is at work here. Suddenly I feel a lot less safe in this room...
He turned away from the window, taking lighter steps as if the pressure of a heavier one would be the final straw that would send the castle into the abyss. Nightingale emerged from the bathroom, distracting him from his sudden irrational fear, announcing that the bath was ready. Tristan thanked her and hobbled over to it, sinking into the hot bath, grateful that he didn’t need assistance with it for once.
One bath and grooming later Tristan emerged from the room sparkling clean, though already rather tired from his short period of activity. He clamored up into the bed once more to await the return of either Nightingale or Lore.
He was awoken from the nap he didn’t intend to take by Lore’s chastising for falling back asleep and wrinkling his clothes, which he tuned out. “...need to take this seriously! Come on now, it’s time to go!” Lore finished, to which Tristan groggily complied.
“...where’s Nightingale?” Tristan sleepily inquired, his fear of the encounter with Celestia forgotten in his daze.
“Now why would she be coming? We’re going to meet with the princess, she doesn’t have a reason to come along. You weren’t planning on injuring yourself on the way there, were you?” Lore chided. The two exited the room, this being the first time Tristan had done so since he first entered it a week ago. “We won’t be going to the throne room, as they don’t want the general public to see you yet. You’ll be meeting with the princess inside of her personal study instead, so don’t touch anything!”
“Wait...why was I able to go to the throne room before? There weren’t any civilian ponies anywhere,” Tristan questioned as they made their way through isolated hallways.
“That part of the castle was more or less put on lockdown when you first arrived. They weren’t taking any chances,” Lore answered.
“Wow, you guys must have really been scared of me!” Tristan exclaimed, imagining all the trouble that a lockdown would cause, and all on his behalf.
“You were, and still somewhat are, an unknown. The princess does not take chances with her subject’s safety,” Lore informed, giving Tristan a little bit of respect for Celestia.
The duo finally arrived at an unassuming door that was flanked by two guards. Tristan could see several more guards blocking off the hallway on the other side, redirecting traffic away. Lore gave a terse nod to a guard, who returned it in kind and opened the door with his magic. Lore stepped inside first with Tristan following closely behind.
The inside of the room was, in a word, cozy. A fireplace crackled cheerfully, illuminating the room in a warm dancing glow. Several bookcases lined one wall, and an opulently carved wooden desk sat on another. Towards the center of the room, near the fireplace, Celestia herself lay upon a lavish cushion on the floor.
Lore immediately dropped down into a respectful bow and Tristan clumsily dropped into a half-bow half-kneel, seeing as a bow for a bipedal was quite a bit different. “You may rise,” Celestia stated warmly, at which both gratefully did.
“Lore has been keeping me apprised of your progress, as well as your world. It seems that now is a suitable time to speak of your future,” Celestia declared, her eyes ever-piercing Tristan. “There are two primary options for you to consider, and you will be allowed to choose freely.”
“The first option is to stay within this castle for the rest of your days. You will be kept comfortable, but you will not be allowed to leave. In your current state, untrusted and untested, I would not be allowed to let you walk freely,” she began. The idea of being confined for the rest of his life didn’t sit well with Tristan, but he supposed that there were many worse alternatives.
“There is another option for you, however. If you are willing to do a service, and prove yourself to be a kind and trustworthy creature, you will be allowed greater freedom,” Celestia said ambiguously.
“But what would that service be?” Tristan questioned, wincing as he realized his mistake while Lore shot him a murderous glare. Celestia didn’t seem to take any offense to his unbidden speech, however.
“As you have proven that not all rift spawn are mindless beasts, that has created problems. There has been talk of sending out some ponies to attempt to communicate with spawn, to see if there are any others of your ilk. Sadly, any creatures that have survived within the guarded walls will have likely already come to hate or fear ponies for keeping them confined,” she began stoically.
“I propose that you accompany a team in their expedition. Another race, such as gryphons, would possibly do to offset the ponies, but you are in a unique position. You could identify with what the other rift spawn have gone through, and minimize the chance for hostilities,” she finished, still unreadable.
“Aren’t most rift spawn, like, really dangerous? You could just be sending me and whoever else you send to their deaths!” Tristan fearfully assessed.
“It is true that the task will be fraught with peril, and there is a chance that you will not succeed, and that you will not return. You will be protected during the journey, and you will not be alone. If this is too much for you then my first offer still stands. It is fully your choice; I will not attempt to sway you either way,” she said.
So the real question is...do I try to play the hero and gamble my life, or do I take the easy and safe way, with lesser rewards? Being cooped up in a castle doesn’t sound so bad in comparison with meeting something like Mecha-Bull again...but there’s so much I could learn! I can’t deny that the opportunity is enticing, and the chance of gaining freedom even more so, but that doesn’t change how dangerous it is...
Lore looked troubled at the choice as well, outwardly showing his anxiety, which said a lot for him. Celestia aptly picked up on his distress and turned her attention to him. “What is it that’s bothering you, Lore?” she queried.
“...Well, your highness...can we really risk losing him? There’s no guarantee that we’ll ever find another intelligent rift spawn, and there’s still so much we could learn from him. Can we afford the chance of all of that slipping away?” Lore questioned hesitantly.
“What you say is true, but it’s still his decision to make. We cannot treat him like an animal, as he has shown himself to be more,” she said with a glance in Tristan’s direction, breaking him from his thoughts.
“I’ll do it,” Tristan suddenly stated.
Lore looked aghast, and Celestia merely gave the slightest hint of a smile. “Are you sure? If you commit to this then there will be no going back for you,” she said solemnly.
“...Yes, I know. I can’t resign myself to doing nothing for the rest of my life. A man has to have ambitions, goals, he has to make something of himself. It’s one of the biggest identifying characteristics humans have, that ambition. I know it’ll be dangerous but...I can’t bring myself to turn it down,” Tristan responded distractedly, still weighing the options in his mind even as he spoke.
“Very well then. Please leave us, as Lore and I have much to speak about. A guard will see you to your room,” she concluded, causing the door to open via magic. Tristan shot a glance back to Lore before he left, who was still uncharacteristically perturbed.
A guard saw Tristan through the empty hallways without a single word, eventually reaching Tristan’s room. Tristan entered to see that the place had apparently been cleaned while they were gone, as the bed was made and everything was tidy. He went over to the window and stared blankly out at the landscape below, contemplating his decision.
Somehow I know that I’m going to regret this later on...but yet, I know that I would have regretted staying here even more. What could have been would always nag me, and my boredom would be my punishment. Oh well, at least if I die it’ll be one Hell of a way to go.
Tristan spent a long while just thinking, and considering all that he had learned since he came to Equestria. He was interrupted from his reverie by a familiar knocking on the door. He called for Nightingale to enter, which she did, bringing in that day’s dinner.
“So, how did it go? What did the princess say?” Nightingale eagerly questioned, motioning for Tristan to take his place on the bed.
“It could have gone worse...” Tristan cryptically answered as he made his way onto the bed and accepted the first part of his meal from Nightingale. “It looks like I’ll be leaving, though. They’re sending me back to a NMH.”
“Oh, no! You’re no threat, I could see if I could talk to someone, they can’t just send you back to one of those dangerous places!” Nightingale emotionally cried out, causing Tristan to feel a warm touch of emotion at how she actually cared about what happened to him.
“No no, not like that...but I really do appreciate the offer,” Tristan said quietly, garnering a confused look from Nightingale. “I chose this option over staying in the castle for the rest of my life. I’m going with some ponies to try to find other rift spawn that are intelligent. The princess says that if I do this, I’ll be granted some leniency. That would mean more freedom; I could actually do something with my life here.”
“Are you sure you want to do that, though? Those places are walled off for a reason. You could get killed!” Nightingale protested.
“It’s what I’ve got to do. Besides, I’ll have some guards. If I do end up not coming back, though, I just wanted to say...thanks. You’ve been kind to me from the start, and you’ve made my stay here so much better. It really does mean a lot...” Tristan trailed off at the end, not used to being so sappy.
“Oh dearie, it’s been my pleasure. You just make sure you stay safe, all right? I don’t want to have to fix you up again!” Nightingale said, giving Tristan another one of her comforting smiles. The moment was broken as the door opened, revealing that Lore had returned.
“Tristan can take care of feeding himself now, I think. Nurse, could you please give us some time to chat alone, if you’re finished?” Lore stated irritably.
“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be back in later for the dishes. You two be nice now!” she responded, hastily leaving the room.
Lore let out a long sigh and cradled his forehead with a hoof, shaking his head back and forth. “You sure are a lot of trouble, do you know that?” he told Tristan in an exasperated tone.
“Hey, she said it was my choice. Sorry if it’s not convenient for you,” Tristan shot back, annoyed at Lore making it about himself.
“I’m going to be going with you, you know,” Lore spat out.
“What? Why?” Tristan asked, confused at why he’d want to.
“Why do you think? A team like that would need a pony that can take notes, so someone of my sort would be going regardless. And who better than me, then, when I already have experience with you? It’s all worked out. In two week’s time we’ll set out, with an escort of two guards,” Lore clarified, clearly distressed over the turn of events.
“Oh...well, I never forced you to make that choice, so don’t blame me. I’m going to do my part and win myself some freedom and respect, it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re involved,” Tristan stated, ignoring Lore’s discomfort.
“Well...anyway...I’ll be seeing you later. I need to go talk with some friends...” Lore said solemnly, leaving with a noticeable droop to his demeanor. Tristan contemplated comforting him, but decided against it.
After another visit from Nightingale to take away the used dishes Tristan prepared for bed, his mind whirring with the different possibilities of what might come of his choice. After much tossing and turning he fell into an uneasy sleep.
The next week was one gruelling workout after another. The restorative magic may have healed Tristan’s wounds but it also ravaged his body, greatly weakening him. Every morning he was up early to do exercises under Lore’s strict command, who both drilled Tristan in exercises until he was ready to drop and cast augmentative magic to help speed things up, and every night he passed out exhausted in his bed.
Tristan had never been a particularly fit person during his normal life, preferring to spend most of his time in front of a computer or television screen. Eric had always been the muscle of the duo, but now he didn’t have the ability to rely upon his friend. By the end of the first week Tristan did feel a lot better, however, and he was able to get around just fine without a cane.
Tristan awoke on the first day of the second week to a change in routine. After his breakfast Lore announced that he would receive basic training with a sword, as he would possibly need to defend himself. He began to lead Tristan through the castle once more, while Tristan peppered him with questions.
“How am I supposed to learn how to fight with a sword in only a week? Will I be getting armor to go with it? You all actually trust me with a weapon now? Since when did you know how to fight with a sword, anyway? And wouldn’t the fighting style of a biped be a lot different compared to a pony?” Tristan flurried his questions without stopping.
“In order, you won’t exactly become a master but you should be able to learn how to not stab yourself. Yes, some armor has been made for you, as it’s a must in such a dangerous area, you will be fighting with it on to get used to it. You’re still not really trusted, but there’s nothing you could do with just a sword against trained guards. I don’t often fight with a sword, so our two escorts have volunteered to help with this. And finally, while the specifics might be different the basics of swordplay are very general, and that’s all that you’ll have time to get,” Lore answered, slightly impressing Tristan with his ability to keep all of his questions orderly within his mind.
They arrived at a large door which opened up to a grand room, not unlike the throne room in its dimensions. Large windows lined the far wall, giving a magnificent view of the world outside. The room lacked any furniture, and there were only two ponies standing inside.
The two ponies both looked like the stereotypical guards that Tristan had seen everywhere, one white, one dark grey. The white one was a pegasus, at a roughly average size. The dark one was one of the larger ponies that Tristan had yet seen, and was an earth pony. The two gave a nod to Tristan and Lore in unison as they arrived, and the pegasus fluttered off to the corner of the room where a stack of gear lay.
Tristan and Lore walked up to the earth pony guard, who appraised the two meticulously as they walked up. “Hello, name’s Noble Cause, that over there is Keen Edge. And you must be Tristan,” he said in a deep voice with a nod in Tristan’s direction, which Tristan responded to with an awkward wave. “And I already know you, Virgin,” he said with a nod to Lore.
“...did you just say...” Tristan snickered out, eyeing Lore as his face turned red.
“It’s my name, all right? Virgin Lore, there! Now let’s never speak of that again, shall we?” Lore suddenly exclaimed defensively, earning some laughter from Tristan and a small chuckle from Noble.
“Anyway, we’ve got some good stuff planned for you, Tristan. This should be an interesting week,” Noble said as Keen Edge returned, dropping some armor, a real sword, and a wooden sword in front of Tristan.
Tristan lifted the armor up and inspected it. The first thing that struck him was the weight; though the armor was made of metal it felt incredibly light. It was not plate, as the ponies wore, but looked to be made up of hundreds of metal scales all over. The sword looked like the classic European style, with a hilt, handle, and double edged blade. The wooden sword was quite interesting, as it was an almost perfect replication of the real sword, just dulled and made of wood.
“Wow, this is some great stuff here!” Tristan proclaimed as he fondled the armor. The ponies watched in silence as he struggled to get the armor over him, eventually succeeding. It fit as well as his clothes and covered his arms, torso, and upper legs.
“That’s some scale mail, they decided that it was a better idea to get something like that than rigid plate mail for you, since that’d need to be fitted more precisely,” Keen spoke up in a higher and more energetic voice than Noble’s. “By the way, name’s Keen Edge, if Noble here didn’t already introduce me. Nice to meet yah!” he finished enthusiastically, thrusting out a hoof in Tristan’s direction.
Tristan took the hoof and shook it, giving Keen a smile. “Nice to meet you as well, I’m Tristan. You’re sure friendly for a pony,” Tristan returned.
“Bah, those two may be sticks in the mud but that doesn’t mean we’ve all gotta be. Doesn’t mean I’m any less serious about my job, though. You’re in good hooves, so I doubt you’ll need any of this training anyway. Nothing out there we couldn’t take, I tell yah,” Keen bragged while Noble rolled his eyes and Lore stood impassively by.
“Now, I believe a quick rundown of your gear would be in order,” Lore chimed in. “That armor has been specially enchanted to provide extra protection as well as to reduce its weight. The sword is just a sword, albeit a fairly nice one. That waster, the wooden sword if you’re not familiar with the term, is weighted just like the real thing, so it’ll be what you practice with.”
Tristan picked up the waster and swung it around a bit, finding that it was weighted perfectly and easy to control. He thought for a moment of his crude wooden spears and wondered where they were now. The ponies all watched him as he did over the top theatrical moves that would never actually work, Keen snickering slightly at his antics.
“Well, that’s very...flashy, but you’re not going to really get anywhere with that,” Noble stated, causing Tristan to calm down and face the ponies again. “The first thing to work on is hoofwork, and despite you not having hooves the basics still apply. Here, let me show you...”
The day passed quickly as they went through a crash course in swordplay. Tristan ended up with several bumps and bruises from his trials, but was happy nonetheless to actually be out doing something after a week of confinement.
Keen and Noble proved to be good teachers, with Keen constantly pushing Tristan to improve even faster and Noble keeping the exercises grounded and feasible. After seeing that the three were getting along well Lore left them, only coming back once to bring them their midday meals.
The next week passed in much the same way, and each day Tristan became more and more accustomed to fighting with a sword. He was nowhere near as agile as Keen with his sword, nor was he as strong and stalwart as Noble with his hammer, but he was able to at least defend against rudimentary attacks and return some of his own. Halfway through the week they decided to get him a shield made of the same light enchanted steel as his armor to go along with his sword, which he absolutely loved.
During the fighting his cares melted away and he was able to immerse himself in the bliss of adrenaline and sweat. Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and that week was no exception. The final day was over, and Tristan was heading back to his room with Lore, anxious about what the future would bring.
“So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” Tristan commented to Lore in a pensive tone.
“Yes...tomorrow’s it. You may not have much to leave behind if something goes wrong, but me? I only have one thing to say. If you get me killed, I’ll kill you,” Lore told Tristan with a wistful smile at the end.
“Heh. Point taken. Keen and Noble are good at what they do though, I’ve got the bruises to prove that. We’ll be fine. And just think, you might get to study a rift spawn that’s not me!” Tristan declared.
“Be still, my heart,” Lore responded unenthusiastically. “Make sure you’re rested for tomorrow; we’ve got a long journey ahead of us.
“Yeah,” Tristan acknowledged quietly as they reached his door and he entered, as Lore began to walk away. “You too.”
Tristan awoke the next morning the same way he had many times before, though he knew it wasn’t to be the same. Nightingale came this time with not just food, but the very same cart she had used when she first met Tristan. After Tristan finished his meal she gathered several objects from the cart.
“You seem like you’ve recovered fully, but you can never be too sure with something like this. You’re not leaving this castle until you’ve had a proper examination, and that’s what I intend to give you!” Nightingale asserted, brandishing all manner of fancy looking, and somewhat threatening, instruments.
“No more needles though, right?” Tristan questioned half-jokingly.
“No, no, none of that dearie. Well, most likely...” she responded, getting to her work.
Tristan saw that his wounds had healed without a single scar, thanks to the wonders of magical medicine. Nightingale poked and prodded him in several uncomfortable places, checked his vitals all over, and did some tests that Tristan couldn’t divine the reason for. After a few irritating minutes she finished, putting all of her apparati back into their proper places.
“It looks like you’re good as new! Well, I never saw you as you were before, but it sure looks like you’re back together alright!” Nightingale declared.
“Heh, well it all looks to be in order. Thanks again!” Tristan said, earning a smile from Nightingale.
“You’re very welcome, dearie. I’ve got a few things to attend to but I should be back before you have to leave, so goodbye for now!” Nightingale said, leaving the room at Tristan’s goodbye.
Scarcely a minute passed before the door flung open at the behest of Lore, who looked to be under no small amount of stress. After a fleeting glance at the sun’s position through the window he rushed over to Tristan.
“Alright, we’re on a schedule here, time to get moving!” Lore exclaimed hastily. “Let’s see...” Lore began as he unfurled a scroll and skimmed it. “We’ll be going to the courtyard from here, where our things should already be on the chariot. Attend to any business you have in the restroom, and we’ll be on our way. Hop to it!”
Tristan sprung out of his bed and quickly went through his morning routine, emerging from the restroom to see a very impatient-looking Lore.
“Alright then, let’s go! I’d like to have this whole sorry business done with as soon as possible,” Lore stated, briskly trotting to the door and motioning for Tristan to follow him. “There may be other ponies in the halls today, just don’t interact with them, understood? You’re just leaving, so another lockdown wasn’t deemed necessary,” he instructed tersely.
Tristan didn’t respond but quickened his pace to match Lore’s, keeping as close as he could to minimize the chances of messing something up. Lore led through one hallway after another, finally bringing Tristan outside for the first time in almost a month. Tristan took a moment to stop and deeply inhale the fresh air, savoring the cool breeze on his skin.
“Just what do you think you’re doing? Move, move, there are civilians about!” Lore chided irritably. Sure enough, Tristan swiveled his head around to see numerous eyes all affixed on him.
“Ehehe...sorry!” Tristan sheepishly apologized, starting off after Lore again. One turn later, past a guarded archway, brought them to the chariot. Noble was already seated in the chariot, calmly looking towards the two. Keen was hooked up to it, stamping his hooves vigorously on the ground, obviously ready to get moving. The chariot had enough room for each of them to fit comfortably, and a small compartment in the back loaded with their provisions and other gear.
“So you finally made it! Orders are to get moving quickly, before the civvies get too curious!” Keen called out to them, at which they quickly made their way to the chariot and seated themselves.
“Are you going to be all right alone up there? The chariots I came here on had two pegasi pulling,” Tristan asked Keen, who responded with a snort.
“You kidding? I’ve got this, no sweat. Everypony ready back there?” Keen asked, to be answered by an affirmative nod from all but Tristan.
“Wait, I just realized, I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Nightingale!” Tristan asserted as the realization struck him.
“I’m sure she’ll be just fine without a goodbye, we need to get going already. You can begin, Keen,” Lore said dismissively. Keen looked back at Tristan sympathetically but he took off nonetheless, showing surprising grace in his flying skills, as he hardly jostled the passengers at all.
Tristan felt a twinge of vertigo as the chariot rose ever higher into the air, as he felt himself slouching down lower and gripping the sides until his knuckles went white. Noble and Lore looked perfectly calm, and regarded him quizzically.
“What? There aren’t any seatbelts, and we’re in the air!” Tristan defended as he saw their looks, prompting them to stare off into space in another direction. It seemed that Keen was as high as he was going to get, as the incline stopped and the chariot levelled behind him.
Tristan took a moment to look over the edge at the landscape below him and was awed by what he saw. Canterlot was shrinking as they rapidly flew away but even at a distance it was grand, with the majestic castle and impressive waterfalls. From his lofty view he could see Equestria spanning endlessly in all directions, without the slightest hint of smog or pollution to cloud the view. Numerous towns and cities lay in the distance, all connected by an orderly railroad network.
“You alright there, Tristan?” Noble asked gently, seeing that Tristan’s grip had become even tighter and his eyes were opened wide.
“Ye-yeah. First time seeing all this, I didn’t exactly have the best view when I travelled like this last time. Equestria sure is...natural, isn’t it?” Tristan responded, not looking at Noble but continuing his surveyance of the land.
“Sure is. I take it where you came from wasn’t?” Noble queried casually, not even bothering to take in the scene below.
“From what Tristan has told me yes, it’s very different. I’m not sure how much you’re meant to know, so let’s just leave it at that, shall we?” Lore butted in.
“Hey, I’ll tell him if I want to tell him,” Tristan asserted. “We’ve taken over a lot more of the land, with giant cities and the like. Sure, there are places like this left, but around heavily populated areas it’s quite a different story.”
“Thanks for telling me, but Lore is right,” Noble began. “Some stuff you might say wouldn’t be good for most ponies to hear, I reckon. Best let Lore do the talking when you meet somepony new,” he finished calmly.
Tristan couldn’t really think of a return to that, or at least he couldn’t in a timeframe where it wouldn’t be awkward for him to continue the conversation. Instead he resumed gazing at the land below, enjoying the way the cool wind licked his face as they continued on.
Small talk was had but the next few hours were uneventful as the journey continued. Tristan eventually saw a vast forest looming on the horizon, in the way they were heading. The forest had a wall exactly like the one he came from had, and so he assumed that this was their destination. Sure enough, the chariot began its descent shortly and headed towards a great fortification adjoining the wall.
The building they landed at looked to be where the guards stayed, as they scurried in and out of it like ants. They landed close to its main entrance, and Keen unhooked himself from the chariot.
“Time to put on our gear, go on and get up,” Lore commanded Tristan, who obliged with some difficulty, finding his limbs to be stiff from the long ride. Noble hopped out and unloaded the gear, separating it into four piles.
Tristan saw his scalemail sitting on one of the piles and assumed it was his, and so he rummaged through it to see what he was allotted. Other than the armor, shield, and sword, there was a pack filled with food, a canteen filled with water, rope, a compass, a bedroll, and other assorted survival gear. Tristan stiffly donned his armor and arranged the rest of the things onto the various straps and into the various packs where they fit, finding it a little hard to walk with his newfound encumberment.
While Tristan was sorting through his gear Keen walked inside the building, with Lore and Noble staying behind to sort through their own gear. Tristan noticed that they each put on a pendant much like his own, which he could only assume were also enchanted to translate. Lore was putting on armor himself, a dark blue in color opposed to the gold of Noble and Keen.
“Wait, you’re wearing armor too? I didn’t take you for the type,” Tristan commented as Lore expertly donned his armor in seconds by levitating it onto himself in pieces and strapping it together.
“So you expected me to be the only one in a highly dangerous area with only my fur to protect me from whatever decided to attack us? You must take me for a fool,” Lore responded haughtily, not even looking at Tristan.
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant...ah, forget it...” Tristan trailed off as he saw Lore wasn’t really paying attention. He paced in a circle a few times to get used to the weight, finding it to be annoying but perfectly feasible for him to carry around.
Keen returned from the building and began sifting through his own gear, while informing the others of the situation. “We’re cleared to go whenever we’re ready, and they know that Tristan’s with us. They’ll send out a search party in two weeks if we don’t come back, but I doubt that’d really do much good if anything went wrong. But hey, nothing’s going to go wrong, since you two are lucky enough to have such an awesome escort!” he finished proudly. None of the others paid his demeanor any heed, however, as they were long since used to it.
They finished equipping their gear and gave a communal nod, none feeling the need to speak further. With Lore leading the way they made their way into the guard building. The building turned out to be pretty much what Tristan expected, with doors leading off in all sorts of directions and guards hurrying to and fro, most paying Tristan little to no heed. They shortly reached their destination of a gigantic steel door, serving as the barrier from the forest.
Keen trotted off for a moment and said a few words to a guard by the gate, earning a salute and causing several guards to magically undo several locks and barricades, finally opening the great door. The quartet boldly stepped through the gateway and heard it shut loudly behind them.
Tristan scanned the treeline in front of him, finding it to be very different from the Sovereign Forest. The trees looked much more wild and varied, and there was no snow anywhere. As they began their walk forward he noticed that there was, once again, not a single animal sound present.
“Hey, Lore? Why aren’t there any animals here? There weren’t any in the other forest, either, save for Mecha-Bull,” Tristan queried, his gaze shifting uneasily back and forth through the gloomy forest.
“Most of the animals left before the walls went up,” Lore began, his gaze as uneasy as Tristan’s as he regarded the forest. “The ones that didn’t...well, the rift spawn took care of them. Then more rift spawn took care of those spawn, and so on. Most of the weaker spawn don’t last very long; you got quite lucky,” he finished uneasily.
“Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Tristan responded sarcastically. Keen and Noble looked calm in comparison to the other two but didn’t do anything to assuage their fears, instead keeping vigilant watch as the forest closed around them.
“It’s a fairly large forest, so there’s no way we’re going to be able to search everywhere,” Lore began, unfurling a map from one of his bags. “Hmm...it seems there was once a residence not very far in, that looks like a good place to start. It’s likely any intelligent spawn would hole up in such a shelter, and even if they haven’t it’d make a great spot to camp for the night,” he finished, staring ponderously at the map.
“That sounds like as good of an idea as any to me, which direction is it in?” Keen piped up, taking to the skies in the direction that Lore pointed. The others continued their walk normally for a short while, after which Keen flew back down to them. “Yeah, I can’t see anything in that direction, just lots more trees.”
“That would be concerning if the residence we sought wasn’t a tree itself,” Lore chided.
“Well...that would explain it,” Keen admitted sheepishly.
“Should we really be making all this noise? I’m rather fond of my limbs and I’d really like to get through the day with none of them ripped off or otherwise massacred by some monster,” Tristan eeped out quietly, still managing to retain sarcasm in his fear.
“No, talking is actually a good idea. Our words will be translated if something else hears us, so they’ll be more likely to stop hiding if they were,” Lore informed Tristan, though he didn’t look very happy about making noise either.
I don’t think any of them actually saw Mecha-Bull...drawing attention to ourselves is the last thing we need. Yet the entire job we have relies on doing just that...what was I thinking when I agreed to do this?
All but Tristan kept up a small conversation, as Tristan continued to be unnerved by the unnatural silence. The only sound was the crunching of dry leaves and the snapping of twigs as they trekked on, which sounded incredibly loud in stark contrast to the otherwise enveloping silence. Several times Tristan thought he heard something and his hand jumped to the hilt of his sword, but every alarm was false.
Tristan was broken from his paranoid state as he heard a question addressed to him. “You doing all right back there, Tristan? Haven’t heard a peep from you for a while,” Noble called back.
“Yeah...I’m fine, just a little wary. I keep thinking that something is going to jump out at us or something...” Tristan meekly replied, his eyes still darting back and forth, scanning the dense brush for any sign of movement.
“There may be risks but getting too worked up will accomplish nothing. Stay on your guard but don’t let your nerves take you, or your mind just might invent something for you to be afraid of,” Lore added in.
“Uh-huh...when are we going to get to our camping spot, anyway?” Tristan questioned, his nerves not calmed one bit.
“It shouldn’t be too much longer, we passed a milestone boulder that was on the map a while back so we know we’re on the right track,” Lore responded, unfurling the map once more to verify.
The sun began to sink in the sky, diminishing the already gloomy light in the forest. Before it was finished setting, however, they finally reached their destination. A huge gnarled tree stood before them with signs of previous habitation, as a hole with a rotted door lying next to it made an entrance and old ropes, some still clutching broken bottles, hung from the branches.
“Heh, talk about spooky, right guys?” Keen casually commented, starting to trot up closer, only to be stopped by Lore’s magic grabbing his tail and holding him back.
“Don’t just walk up there! Remember, there may be a rift spawn inside, and if there is it might be intelligent. We need to handle this with diplomatic grace, we cannot just barge in,” Lore reprimanded, taking a moment to stop and assess the situation.
“I’m with Lore on this one. Especially if whatever is inside has already had bad encounters with ponies, it’d just attack you on sight most likely,” Tristan agreed.
“Yes...if there’s something inside it may very well have an aversion to ponies already...” Lore hinted, looking towards Tristan expectantly.
“Yeah, like I was saying, it might-” Tristan began, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Wait, no no no no no, I am not going first. Shouldn’t it be Noble? He can defend himself better than the rest of us, after all,” he finished with agitation.
“I’d be happy to, but you know Lore’s right,” Noble pitched in. “We’ll be right behind you, don’t you worry.”
Tristan looked to Keen, his only other potential ally in the matter, but found no solace in his empathetic but not supportive face. “Yeah, we’ve got you covered, but you should be going first. I’ll rush in as quick as I can first sign of trouble, no worries,” Keen added.
“Well...nothing else to it then, I suppose...” Tristan muttered, defeated. He drew his sword and shield, both of which suddenly felt very flimsy upon recollections of Mecha-Bull. His first few steps were slow and laborious but he picked up speed as adrenaline began pumping through his veins in anticipation of a hostile encounter. Before coming all the way to the entrance he called out to any that might hear him.
“Uh...hello? Anyone home? We come in peace, and all that...” Tristan began waveringly, slowly edging towards the entrance with his shield held high in front of him. “If anything is in there, please come out, we don’t mean you any harm...” Tristan trailed off as he stepped within the dimly lit tree.
He braced himself for a moment, expecting something to fly out of the shadows to maul him, but nothing did. He strained his ears to hear anything, anything at all, but he only heard the faint ringing that was absolute silence.
“...Yeah, looks like this place is deserted. It’s a bit dark though, I could use a light,” he finally called out to the others, though he didn’t drop his defensive stance. The three ponies rushed in, each ready for a fight as well, and Lore lit his horn to illuminate the interior.
The inside looked to have been ravaged by beasts at some point, with tattered bits of masks, broken glass, and other assorted debris scattered everywhere. Lying in the center in an old fire pit was a large overturned metal pot. Nothing inside moved, and there was no tell-tale smell of recent animal habitation.
Keen zipped around the entire place several times, overturning anything that could potentially be hiding something, and eventually gave the all-clear. The quartet collectively breathed a sigh of relief as they lowered their defences.
“I know we’re here to find something...but you know what? I’m glad we didn’t find something here. That was terrifying,” Tristan commented as he tried to calm down, sheathing his sword and putting his shield down in a corner.
“The sooner we find something the sooner we can leave, and I believe we’d all very much like to leave,” Lore said, inspecting the dilapidated door outside the doorway and fitting it back over the hole with his magic. “There’s no point in continuing further with how dark it’s becoming, so we had best camp here for the night.”
“I dunno, I kinda like this whole thing,” Keen added in. “I mean, the thrill of a potential fight, the thought that you’re actually going to be doing something...it’s invigorating! Canterlot’s nice and all, but it gets kinda boring just doing drills.”
Noble didn’t say a word, but unpacked some of his bags and inspected the pot lying near the center of the room. With an expert buck he righted the pot to its spot of old and he peered at the decayed wood that would have once made a fire.
“I hope you’re not planning on using that thing, Noble,” Lore began. “The smell of anything cooking would just draw the wrong type of rift spawn to us, and that pot has got to be absolutely filthy by now,” he finished, looking disdainfully at the large pot.
“No hot food, got it,” Noble reluctantly obliged as he uncoiled his bedroll and sifted through his rations. Keen did the same, and the two began to eat.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here...” Tristan mused to no one in particular as he rifled through his own pack. Luckily, whoever had packed it knew that he didn’t eat hay or grass, and so those items were mercifully absent. Inside he found an assortment of tough breads, dried fruits, small bars of chocolate, dense pastries, and a few other things. He picked out a few things and started to munch on them, finding it to be mostly agreeable.
After everyone finished their meals they each situated their bedrolls along a portion of the floor that had been cleared of debris by Noble. All but Keen lay down to sleep, as he was taking the first watch. The light from Lore’s horn finally died down, causing the room to be lit by only what slivers of moonlight bled through into the tree, and Tristan passed easily into sleep knowing he was under guard.
Tristan awoke to a gentle prodding from Noble, who had already packed up his own gear. After much yawning and gripe Tristan got his own gear packed up, and the party was off once more into the forest.
“So, where to today?” Tristan asked, stifling another yawn as they left the hut.
“Our next destination is the ancient castle of the royal pony sisters, to the southeast...” Lore responded, checking his map once again.
“Well that’s a mouthful. What’s a castle doing in a place like this?” Tristan queried, noting that he was far less frightened of the forest now than he was on the previous day.
“This forest wasn’t always like this, of course,” Lore began in his usual manner of speaking down to Tristan. “The rift crisis is fairly recent, but even before that this was a dangerous place. Yet long ago, roughly a thousand years in the past, it wasn’t so. Before Canterlot was built the castle here was the central place of power for all of pony kind. What happened then is a lesson all in its own, so I hope you’re satisfied enough with that answer,” he finished abruptly.
“Huh, interesting...” Tristan quietly responded, having trouble imagining the gloomy and overgrown forest being tame and well traveled.
They continued on their walk for another two hours or so before taking a small break in a clearing. The day was peaceful and they were still yet to encounter anything hostile, and so they were becoming much more complacent with their situation. So, none but Tristan caught a small glimpse of something blue dart between the bushes on the edge of their clearing.
“He-hey! I think I saw something over there!” Tristan cried out, pointing towards where he had seen whatever it was. The other three immediately dropped their conversation and snapped their attention to where Tristan was pointing, but no more blue was to be seen.
“Are you sure you saw something?” Noble asked calmly as Keen flew over to investigate the brush.
“Well, pretty sure...blue against green and brown is pretty easy to see, usually! I don’t know, though...perhaps my eyes were just playing tricks on me,” Tristan responded, drawing his sword and shield just to be safe.
“There are tracks over here! Fresh, too!” Keen called out, causing the others to all rush to where he was hovering. Sure enough, heavy prints that looked like paws with three claws apiece, with one more claw mark situated behind the primary mark, littered the ground. The tracks led off into some thicker foliage, however, and whatever it was had gotten away.
The four simply stood there examining the tracks for a moment, none of them talking. Their investigation was interrupted by a strange, high-pitched whine coming from the direction that the tracks headed. Tristan’s heart skipped a beat as he heard it, as it was like nothing he had ever heard before. He saw that Lore, Keen, and Noble were all locked in place, ears swiveling around rapidly to try to pick up any subsequent cries.
Sure enough, several more cries echoed through the forest, coming from multiple directions at once. What really scared Tristan, however, was that the sounds were rapidly closing in on them.
“Everyone, back to the clearing, now!” Noble commanded forcefully. He, Lore, and Keen all scrambled away from the brush swiftly, and Tristan attempted to do the same. He wasn’t taking great care of his footing in his haste, and so tripped over a root almost as soon as he began to move.
Tristan cried out as he fell, but found that he never hit the ground. A familiar aura glowed around him, and he saw Lore standing nearby, placing him back on his feet. Tristan stood stunned for a moment as he gathered his bearings, then ran to join the others.
The four stood back to back as the cries came closer and closer, obviously locking in on their location. “Maybe they’re friendly? Hey! We don’t want to fight you, but we will if you force us to! Show yourselves!” Keen yelled out in the general direction of the cries.
“They don’t sound very friendly...” Noble added hesitantly. The whining sounds were indeed some of the creepiest things Tristan had ever heard, and the fact that they were almost upon them certainly didn’t help much.
“Dammit, I don’t want to die!” Tristan babbled, his heart threatening to pound out of his chest as his adrenaline built.
None of the others had a chance to respond to him as the cries came to a crescendo and six of the strangest creatures Tristan had ever seen burst from the foliage at once. Each creature was about four feet tall, at least six feet in length, and incredibly agile. They looked to be reptilian in that their skin was smooth and a ridge lined each of their backs, looking like a gaunt spine. Each was a shade of blue, with two legs ending in claws, long sinuous tails, and no heads. Instead their fronts ended in three wicked curved spikes, arranged in a triangle. Between each spike was a single red eye, each with a small black slit of a pupil. On the whole they would have looked absurd, were it not for the fact that they were obviously hostile.
One of the beasts let out a cry, spreading its front out to reveal rows of glossy black teeth lining the inside of its great maw. As it opened the three spikes separated and came to form a triangle around the strange mouth, each pointing inward to better hook its prey.
“Oh shit what the Hell are those?” Tristan yelled out, again ignored by the others.
Their attackers were upon them before any plan could be made, as the beasts lunged at their marks. Instead of all going for a single target they split their attention, with two going for each Keen and Noble and one apiece coming for Lore and Tristan.
The one that singled out Tristan lunged at him, spreading its maw to an almost unrealistic width as it threatened to envelop him whole. Tristan instinctively braced himself and raised his shield, feeling the creature impact heavily upon it and bound away to prepare for another attack.
In the heat of the battle Tristan was unable to recall the finer points of his training, but he remembered enough to at least make an attempt at an attack. He rushed towards the beast and swung his sword at it, which it dodged to the side, whipping its long tail around to bash Tristan. The strike connected and Tristan was sent sprawling back, though he managed to maintain his balance. He heard one of the beasts that the others were fighting emit a higher pitched cry than usual in conjunction with the sound of a meaty thud, and saw flashes of light coming from the edge of his vision. He didn’t turn to look at any of that, however, as he kept his eyes locked on his target.
The beast let out another cry and charged Tristan again, this time swerving from side to side erratically in an attempt to confuse Tristan. His eyes matched the fluid movements perfectly, however, and when the next attack came Tristan was ready. He began by thrusting his shield forward, bashing his attacker off target, and followed with a wild sweep from his sword. A spurt of orange splattered over the ground and a cry of pain reached his ears as his sword made contact and the beast retreated with a minor wound.
Tristan took the fleeting chance to glance at the others, finding that one of the beasts was already slain, adorned with several slices and bleeding profusely on the ground. Noble was locked in combat with two of them at once, deftly dodging from side to side and warding his attackers off with heavy swings from his hammer. Keen was everywhere at once, circling around his mark at incredible speeds, attempting to find an opening in its defense and avoiding its tail. Lore tore the earth asunder and was getting creative with bits that he was levitating, maneuvering it into a shield or weapon when needed and flurrying bits at his attacker to confuse it.
Tristan snapped his eyes back at his attacker, not daring to give it an opening. The beast began circling him, keeping its distance as it continually let out its strange whine at him and searched for an opening. Tristan wasn’t willing to give it ground, however, and warded it off with yells of his own and swipes of his sword whenever it got too close.
If I can just hold it off ‘till the others finish with theirs I can get some help...
He and his adversary eventually came to a standoff, neither edging any closer to the other, both circling slowly around. Tristan thought he heard Lore yell something, though he couldn’t quite make out what it was, and he continued to devote his full attention to his foe. A scant moment after Lore had yelled, however, Tristan felt something heavy plow into his from his back, knocking him on his chest and causing him to lose his grip on his shield, which flew out of his reach.
Talons raked the back of his armor, which held true, but the weight of the beast on him was enough to keep him pinned and force the breath from his lungs. A searing pain struck his left shoulder as something pierced it, inciting a cry of agony as he felt his blood rush down from the wound. A heavy thud sounded above him as the weight was suddenly lifted, taking a small chunk of his shoulder with it. He ignored the pain as best as he could and scrambled to his feet, only to see another of the monsters charging at him.
Tristan raised his sword to fend off the beast, but it was thrown to the side before it ever met him as Keen swooped in and tackled it away. With his left arm dangling limply at his side he swiveled around to see yet another of the monstrosities charging him. Knowing that Keen was already fighting another and hearing both Noble and Lore locked in combat as well, he met the oncoming charge with one of his own.
The creature didn’t seem to be expecting such aggression from a wounded opponent, as it failed to halt its momentum as Tristan sliced at it with all of his might. The blow connected and he was rewarded with a spurt of orange blood all over his eyes, temporarily blinding him. The mass of the beast struck him with the full force of its charge, though it had not aimed any of its natural weapons at Tristan. Again he was sent barreling over, screaming in pain as the strange blood burned his eyes.
He frantically wiped away at the thick substance, knowing that he was vulnerable to any sort of an attack. He attempted first to wipe with his free left hand, which caused a debilitating burst of pain to come from his wound. Electing to at least look intimidating even if he couldn’t see, he stood up and yelled a challenge to any foes that might have been eyeing him, brandishing his sword at its full length.
His challenge was not met, however, as he heard one final screech from one of the creatures, and relative silence came after. He pivoted about once with his sword, strained his ears to hear any remaining enemies, and finally collapsed on the ground as he let the pain take him.
“Tristan! Tristan, you all right?” Keen yelled, as Tristan heard him coming closer. “Hey, guys! Tristan’s hurt, get over here!”
Two more sets of hooves rapidly found their way to where Tristan lay moaning as the pain in his shoulder and eyes intensified now that the battle was over. “It looks like he has some of that blood in his eyes, and he’s been stabbed by one of those spikes...Noble, get him upright!” Lore commanded. Tristan felt himself being heaved upright, and a painful light cleaned off the blood from his eyes. He blinked several times, his eyes still burning terribly, but he found that his vision had mostly returned.
“Can you see all right?” Lore questioned in a tone that almost hinted at a bit of worry.
“Y-yeah...I can see...” Tristan sputtered out, delirious from the pain in his shoulder.
“Let me see that wound you’ve got there...” Lore began as Tristan felt his magic feel about on his wound, eliciting a sharp pang of burning pain which caused Tristan to jerk reflexively, disrupting Lore’s magic. Lore tried once more to the same result, as Tristan was unable to stop himself from flinching terribly. “Sorry, Tristan, but it looks like I’ve got to do this...” Lore said, not bothering to hide the empathy from his voice. Tristan was about to ask him what he meant, but instead felt a sharp blow to the head and lost consciousness.
Tristan slowly awakened to the softness of his bedroll. The intense pain that he had felt in his shoulder was now nothing more than a numb throb, though it was now accompanied by a matching throb on his head. Mercifully, his vision had at least fully cleared. He saw Noble and Lore sitting together, not speaking a word, but didn’t see Keen anywhere. Without alerting the others to his newly awakened state he attempted to rotate his left arm, finding that it still caused enough pain to make him cry out softly when he tried to move it the wrong way.
“Tristan? You up?” Noble called, trotting over to where he lay.
“Yeah...I’m up. You dick, Lore. What was that for?” Tristan replied, gingerly rubbing the sore spot on his head with his good arm.
“I apologise for the pain, but I needed to get to your wound as soon as possible. If it had been poisoned or the like then any time wasted might have killed you,” Lore calmly defended, joining the pair.
“Was it?” Tristan asked, realizing that Lore very well may have saved his life with what he did.
“No,” was Lore’s response. “Though I did manage to clean it up, apply a healing salve, and stitch it together. You should be all right to continue, as long as you don’t jerk it around too violently.”
Tristan sat up slowly, cradling his aching head. “Those things...what happened? Are the rest of you all right? Where did they go?” he queried, looking around the clearing to see most of the blood and all of the bodies missing.
“We won the fight, as you can see. None of us got anything more than a few bruises or minor cuts, nothing to worry about. And we had to clean this place up, or it might have attracted more spawn. I hate to have had to do it, but the bodies are in a nearby river,” Lore responded, looking wistfully into the forest. “I really would have liked to study those, too...”
Tristan looked up in the sky to see that the sun was already past its zenith and well on its journey down. “...How long was I out, anyway? Are we still moving today?” he asked.
“It was a few hours. And no, we’re not leaving this clearing today. As bad as those spawn were during the day, they would have been worse at night,” Lore answered, magically unfurling his bedroll and setting it down as if to accentuate his point.
Tristan grunted his agreement and spied his pack lying next to his bedroll, from which he took his dinner. After a short meal and a goodnight to the others he readily fell back asleep, despite having already been out for so long.
The next morning began slowly for the group, without any of the haste of the previous one. Since they were already underway and their destination hadn’t changed there wasn’t much of a reason to rush. Still, they couldn’t dally too long in the same spot, and so they continued on their way.
Their path took them over the shallow river that they had dumped the bodies of the creatures in. Five of the bodies were still present, as the water was not strong nor deep enough to carry them away. One of the bodies, however, was no longer there. Instead, a shallow rut in the earth and several splatters of blood, accompanied by yet more strange tracks that were even larger than the ones the other creatures made, led off to the west.
“Looks like we made the right choice in moving those things,” Noble somberly commented as he looked at the tracks.
“The smell likely brought whatever that thing was here, so yes,” Lore added, scrutinizing the tracks. “Whatever it was, it was big, and it must have been a carnivore.”
“So, we’re not going after it, then? I thought we were supposed to be looking for rift spawn, and here’s the tracks to one,” Tristan clarified.
“No, we’re not going after whatever that was, for a number of reasons,” Lore began. “It was clearly a predator, and if the tracks are anything to go by, larger than the things we fought yesterday. Often, when predators are naturally superior in strength to their prey, they will never develop higher intelligence. They simply wouldn’t need it, or so it’s theorized. So, with it being less likely that it’s intelligent, and more likely that it could kill one of us, it simply isn’t a good idea to go after it,” he finished, turning away from the tracks and beginning to ford the river.
“Ah, we could take it, whatever it is,” Keen boasted. “But hey, you’re the science-y guy, so I’ll take your word for it. Lets keep moving, no point in sticking around here any longer.”
The others agreed and their journey continued, after they refilled their water skins upriver from the bodies. The scenery never seemed to change and the trees never thinned, keeping their progress slow. They were all wary again, unlike the previous day, and unwilling to let themselves be ambushed again.
Their prudence proved needless, however, as they found themselves approaching the castle by the early light of twilight without any unwanted encounters. While they could easily see the castle, they could also see a deep ravine winding all the way around it, almost like some sort of a moat. A dilapidated bridge could be seen on the far side, hanging by only a single rope.
“So, who am I ferrying across first?” Keen asked as he saw the gap.
“None of us. We’re not exactly easy to carry with all of this armor and gear,” Lore replied, surveying the area for a way across. “The bridge isn’t an option, there’s no telling if that thing would break or not, so it’s not worth the risk. Hmm...”
Tristan looked around as well, finding a large overturned tree not far into the foliage. “Hey, what about that?” he asked, pointing it out to Lore.
“Good eye, that should work nicely,” Lore answered, giving a compliment so rare that it felt odd to hear. With some help from Noble to free the log from the undergrowth he tested it to see if it would easily break, finally setting it across the gap when he was satisfied.
“Alright, here’s the procedure. Keen, you hover below the log, just in case something happens. I’ll keep it steady with my magic, and we’ll go one at a time,” Lore informed the rest, none of which had any issues with the plan. One by one they crossed in that manner, without any incident.
The entrance of the castle was little more than ruins, with what may have once been a grand courtyard now nothing more than an overgrown tangle of plant life. Tall pillars, their ornate carving worn away by age and neglect, lay overturned and broken. Farther in the main entrance to the castle could be seen, its wide maw unobstructed and cavernous.
“You all don’t expect me to explore an entire castle alone...do you?” Tristan hesitantly asked, intimidated by the sheer scale of such a task.
“No, you wouldn’t be very effective without light anyway. We’re just going to have to chance all staying together, and hope that if anything is inside it hasn’t already developed an aversion to ponies...” Lore responded.
With that the quartet tentatively stepped inside, Lore’s horn lighting the way. Each had their weapons drawn and ready. They explored from room to room, making sure to call out into each doorway before stepping in themselves to see if anything could hear them.
They encountered no life within the castle, only finding dust, dirt, and the occasional skeleton. None of the skeletons were those of ponies; instead they were of beasts of all shapes and sizes, all of which were unrecognizable as any creature any of them had encountered before. After several hours of searching they resigned to camp out in the cavernous throne room, where the remains of two great thrones still stood.
“Well, that was a whole lotta nothing,” Keen huffed, his excitement at possibly finding something having long since waned.
“Beats finding something else hostile though, right? Could have been worse,” Tristan said, somewhat glad that they would have at least one more somewhat peaceful night.
“Remember that we have only just begun. We’ll be out here for a little over a week longer if we don’t find anything, so don’t get too discouraged just yet,” Lore reminded them. “For now, just get some rest, and leave the planning to me. And Tristan, put some of that food away, that needs to last!” he chided, disapproving of the large pile of food that Tristan had in front of him.
“Heh, right. All this walking just works up such an appetite...” Tristan yielded, putting away part of the pile. Sleep took him easily yet again as he finally gave into his aching muscles.
A slow drip of water to his face awoke Tristan the next morning. Groaning, he wiped it off, looking up to see that the roof high above was leaking. The others were already in the process of getting up and eating their breakfasts and didn’t seem perturbed by the rain. Tristan decided to ignore it as well, dutifully getting himself ready.
They headed outside to see that while it was indeed raining it wasn’t coming down very hard, and so Lore decided that they needed to continue regardless. They made their way across the now slippery log without much difficulty and left the castle behind them.
For the next several hours the rain neither eased up nor intensified, keeping at a steady drizzle. Tristan was actually a little thankful for it, as it somewhat washed away the grime that had been accumulating on his skin and armor. None of them were much in the mood for talking, each just focusing on navigating the forest.
The rain finally dissipated, giving them a clear view of the sky ahead. They gratefully turned their eyes up to it, finding both the unobstructed sun and a thin trail of smoke in the distance.
“You guys see that smoke too, right? It’s not just me?” Keen excitedly asked, flittering up and pointing towards it with a hoof.
“Yeah, I see it all right,” Noble attested, narrowing his eyes and looking into the forest in that direction.
“Excellent, excellent!” Lore exclaimed gleefully. “There wasn’t any lightning, so that fire can only mean something intelligent started it! Tristan, take the lead, let’s get moving!”
Tristan happily obliged, leading the way with a spring in his step at the thought of meeting an intelligent rift spawn and leaving without getting attacked by another monster. Fate, however, had other plans for the group.
The entire party halted at the slowly increasing sound of snapping branches and falling trees in the distance. Their eyes snapped to that direction at once as they all drew their weapons. Not a moment later they saw what looked like a gargantuan purple armored snake with glowing yellow eyes slithering towards them at an alarming speed, overturning all obstacles in its path.
Keen quickly took to the sky and called down to the others. “That thing has to be at least forty feet long! Get ready!”
Tristan was gripped by fear as it came closer, loudly hissing from a mouth rowed with sharp teeth. He tentatively raised his shield, finding that the pain in his shoulder kept him from putting any strength behind his blocks with it.
As the monstrosity finally closed with them it reared up, a dozen muscular legs unfolding from its underside, and it began running at them without losing any of its speed like a variant of some twisted centipede. Lore sent a fireball straight at it, which deflected against its armored scales, and it bit at him in passing. The bite met fully with armor and failed to make a hold, doing little damage, and the beast ran past, turning around after a short while to make another attack.
“What’s the plan? How are we supposed to kill that thing?” Tristan cried out fearfully, imagining his sword as the meager stinger of a bee in comparison with the charging behemoth.
“Its underbelly looks like it’s not nearly as armored, go for that!” Noble yelled. Sure enough, its segmented underbelly was devoid of the rigid armor plating that covered the rest of it.
It came in for a second attack, this time going for the still hovering Keen, who managed to nimbly dodge out of the way of its bite with time to spare. The beast stopped for a moment to try another bite, and Noble used the time to charge up to it, aiming a heavy blow at its belly.
The blow connected, earning a surprised shriek from the creature. It fell back to the ground, wrapping its dozen appendages tightly to itself, and slithered off in the direction that it came from without attacking further.
Tristan had spent the entire time gawking at the size of the thing, sword limply held out in front of him. “That’s...that’s it? It’s gone? We beat it? Really?” he cried out in disbelief, not believing that Noble had really hurt the beast very much.
“We likely just scared it away from the moment; I suppose we had a little more bite than it expected!” Lore judged. “It’ll likely be back soon, so let’s hurry along and see if we can lose it before it does!”
The others nodded their agreement and took off in a hurry towards the smoke they had seen earlier, all still with weapons drawn. They reached their destination before long, finding an artificial clearing in the forest.
The trees had been uprooted and whittled down into fortifications that pointed outward with sharp tips, surrounding the clearing with only one entrance. In the middle of the clearing was a makeshift shelter of wood and leaves, at about six feet tall. The strangest thing, however, was the creature that stood facing them within the clearing.
It looked like a giant ant, at least five feet tall and eight in length. Unlike an ant, however, its carapace and head were both upright, reminding Tristan somewhat of the shape of a centaur. Its head had pincers like an ant and beady black eyes, and was adorned with an intricate helmet that looked to be made of bronze. It also had arms that looked like they could function much like Tristan’s, complete with hands, and a sharp stinger on its rear. All in all, it was incredibly intimidating.
The party came to an abrupt halt a few feet from the sharp barricade, cautiously regarding the creature in silence. The creature seemed to be doing the same, looking at each one of them in turn. It didn’t look like it was about to attack, but it was obviously not welcoming their presence.
Lore nudged Tristan several times, and he got the message. “Uh...can you understand me?” Tristan hesitantly asked.
The reaction was instantaneous, and the creature’s guard wavered as it was clearly surprised. “How have you come to speak formian? Speak again!” it commanded in a voice that Tristan felt was thoroughly unfitting of its form. While he felt that it should have sounded raspy or shrill it actually sounded clear and deep, with an almost eloquent inflection to its tone.
Tristan’s heart skipped a beat at its speech, though whether it was in fear of the creature on in joy of finding that it could speak he did not know. “Heh...yeah, I can speak, and, uh...we don’t mean you any harm, or anything...” he bumbled timidly.
“Be you creatures of law or chaos?” it forcefully inquired.
“Law or chaos? I’m not exactly sure what you mean, but law, I suppose?” Tristan answered, confused.
“Very well, you may be permitted entrance. Make haste, there are many beasts about! And take care that I can see you at all times, lest you feel the wrath of a true formian!” it declared, motioning towards the sole gap in the fortification.
Tristan gave an unsure glance in Lore’s direction, who hesitantly nodded and motioned his head over to the gap. Tristan slowly edged towards it and slipped through, followed by the other three. The whole time the formian did not move from its spot, nor did it takes its beady eyes off of them. When they were all inside it slowly made its way over to them, stopping in front of Tristan.
“What manner of creature are you?” it asked evenly.
“I-I’m a human, and these three are ponies...” Tristan began slowly. “My name is Tristan, that’s Lore...Keen...and Noble,” he continued, slowly motioning with his sword to each of them in turn. “Do you have a name?”
“A name? I am myremarch two nine three dash four two zero,” it replied. Upon seeing that Tristan was confused with his answer, he continued. “By some I am known by the name of Krik, if you find it preferable.”
Tristan was still frightened of the creature, but felt that he was making good enough progress. “It’s, uh, a pleasure to meet you, Krik,” he numbly stated, sheathing his sword and presenting his hand for a shake. Krik just looked at it until Tristan let it fall back to his side, embarrassed.
“What do you know of-” Krik began to question, stopping mid-sentence. His antennae swiveled about for a moment, and he turned away from the group to look into the forest. As if on cue the snake-like monster from before burst from the trees, crashing through the fortification. The spiked ends pierced shallowly into its underbelly, leaving behind thick purple blood in its trail.
Krik's reaction was as quick as Keen’s as he leapt to action, dodging the hulking mass that was charging for him and giving it a jab with his stinger, which pierced through the thick armored plates on its back. The great beast roared in pain and diverted itself to Tristan, who had only just drawn his sword again.
It circled around Tristan, easily encircling him and cutting him off from the others, and suddenly constricted. Tristan felt the air crushed from his lungs as it tightened around him and he was unable to even attempt to struggle free. Immense pain shot through his body as he heard several loud snaps, his arms and ribs breaking like twigs under the pressure. In conjunction with the constriction, several of the beast’s claws raked Tristan at once, some finding purchase in his face or neck.
Krik, Keen, Noble, and Lore all went at the thing at once, stinging, slicing, bludgeoning, and burning the beast respectively. The sudden onslaught caused it to cry out once more and release Tristan, who fell limply to the ground, unable to even writhe in pain.
He fought to stay conscious, looking on to the battle that still raged in front of him. Keen made a daring attack at the beast’s head, managing to stab one of its eyes, earning a deafening roar of pain from the creature. He wasn’t fast enough in pulling back, however, as the beast vengefully grabbed him out of the sky with its cavernous mouth.
Keen struggled frantically to free himself from the maw of the beast, succeeding only in breaking one of his wings. With a cry of pain he stopped his struggles for a split-second, in which time the monster reaffirmed its grasp and swallowed Keen whole, sword and all. Noble yelled out to his friend in anguish, beating at the monster with all of his might, but there was no response.
Tristan’s hold on consciousness was tenuous at best, as he fought to slow the steadily creeping blackness at the edge of his vision. It seemed that the others were leading the fight away from him, so he doubted he would be crushed.
Noble was pounding away at the creature with truly vicious strikes, succeeding in moving the behemoth with some of his better placed blows. Tears streamed down his eyes as he continued his thrashing, not willing to let the monster get away alive. Lore was countering any attempt by the creature to better maneuver itself by throwing obstacles such as logs into its way, keeping it at a disadvantage. All the while Krik rode the beast like some sort of grotesque mount, ceaselessly stabbing away at the thing with his stinger.
Tristan attempted to move slightly but found the pain unbearable. It felt as if every bone in his body had been broken, though the pain was actually beginning to dull. He cast his eyes out one last time at the battle before the blackness overtook him, heralding him into unconsciousness.
Their allies were all vanquished, while their enemies were almost at full strength. Only by diverging from the main group had they managed to save themselves from the ambush, but now the full attention of the others was upon them. They knew their peace wouldn’t last long, so they needed a plan.
“Shit, there’s no way we can take them all on, man! There must be like ten of them left! Robbie couldn’t shoot for crap, none of them could!” Eric hissed at his friend, who currently had his head craned around the corner of their cover, looking for enemy contacts.
Tristan turned his head back to Eric and gave him a death glare. “It’s not over yet, dude. They know they’ve got us outnumbered; they won’t be taking us seriously. We can make that work to our advantage. We can take ‘em, we’ve just gotta be smart about it,” he said.
“Heh, looks like you’re growing some balls at last, I’m so proud of you!” Eric half-mocked. “All right, what’s the plan?”
“They’re likely going to fan out to find us, so they’ll be separated. If we’re lucky every battle will turn out to be two on one, so we can make that work,” Tristan began. He then pointed to a low wall near a corner of the massive, mist-filled complex. “You get over there, and wait for me to signal you when someone is in the right spot. When I do, make a little noise, get them curious. I’ll pick them off from behind, from that point up there,” he finished, pointing to part of the second story of the complex, which overlooked the first.
“So I’m the bait? Love it,” Eric said. “Make sure you don’t let them sneak up on you though, no way I could take ‘em all out myself.”
Eric hunched himself down and made his way to the spot as quickly as he could, praying that the green flashing lights that adorned his torso went unnoticed. Tristan waited until he was in position before getting up to his spot, which overlooked that section of the complex with a perfect panoramic view.
After about a minute their first target came into view. A small, dusty haired kid, a little younger than Tristan and Eric, was prowling around, keeping himself pressed to the wall in a futile attempt to remain unseen. The red flashing lights on his torso and shoulders sealed his fate; he was an enemy. However, he was keeping to cover fairly well, and so Tristan couldn’t get a sure shot on him.
Their mark looked nervous, scanning the corners of the room with uneasy eyes. He moved just close enough to Eric’s hiding spot for their tactic to work and Tristan raised his fist in the air, signaling Eric to begin. Eric let out a loud, over-dramatic cough, startling the kid enough to make him jump. After aiming in Eric’s direction for a moment to see if he would emerge, the kid’s face broke into a wide, devious grin, and he silently prowled forward.
As he came close to Eric’s hiding spot, moments before he would turn around the wall, Tristan took his shot. An accurate red laser streamed from Tristan’s rifle, hitting dead center on his target’s flashing red sensor. The sensor immediately deactivated, and he saw his now defeated enemy mouth a curse, before holstering his gun and dejectedly walking out of one of the exits. Tristan gave a thumbs up to Eric, who returned it with a wide grin.
Their devious ploy worked on another four victims, which meant there would be about five enemies left. However, good luck never seems to last, and so it seemed the other team finally understood what was going on. The entirety of the remaining enemy team, six in all, came into their sector together. Tristan cursed under his breath and motioned his hand slicing his neck to Eric, hoping that he’d get the idea.
The team was approaching Eric’s hiding spot, and Tristan knew his friend would soon be overwhelmed. He waited until they arrived at the usual spot and took two quick and precise shots, felling two of them. “I’m up here yah morons! Come and get me!” he yelled out, quickly making his escape to another section as they gave chase.
He heard them swear as Eric cut at least one of them down and their footsteps paused for a moment as they undoubtedly took Eric down. “Four down, two to go!” Eric cried out, laughing his way out of the building.
Tristan felt a grin split his face as he weighed his chances. They were coming at him, so he had the defender’s advantage, and there were only two! He stopped his running and looked for cover, finding it in a chest-high wall. He hunkered down and aimed his gun at the hallway he ran through, waiting for contact.
It came shortly, with two of them running top speed at him, blasting away in his direction and weaving back and forth to make themselves harder targets. Tristan was loosing shots of his own, finding them to be much harder to hit when they were moving. He finally saw one of their packs deactivate, the sign of a successful hit.
He continued firing at the final enemy, not stopping until he saw that his target had stopped moving and firing, though his pack was still active. He tried firing a few more times, finding that his gun wasn’t working. A quick check proved that it was deactivated; he had lost. Tristan slowly got to his feet, dusting himself off, and went to give the winner a congratulatory handshake.
Tristan emerged defeated, but not too dejected, from the main arena to find Eric waiting for him. “I saw the scoreboards dude, tough luck. At least you got one though, right?” Eric consoled him.
“Heh, yeah, taking out, like, nine people with just the two of us? That’s pretty damn good if I do say so myself!” Tristan said, breaking into a smile.
“Hell yeah dude, that’s awesome! See if you can get your mom to shell out for Lasertopia again next year, this was great!” Eric returned happily.
“Yeah, and we’ll win next time, too! Now that we know what we’re doing, with a duo like us, there’s no way we could lose!” Tristan returned.
“You know it, man. Nothing’s gonna beat us next time around,” Eric said, fist-bumping Tristan and sharing a laugh as the two walked off together to share some birthday cake.
Tristan slowly drifted back into consciousness to find himself moving through the forest. He was on some sort of mat that was pulled by something, being drug backwards, tied on with a rope. His entire body was in a numb sort of pain and every one of his limbs felt incredibly stiff. An attempt to turn his head to see what was pulling him proved fruitless, as he couldn’t budge anything.
He could see himself splayed out before his eyes, clothes torn and armor missing. Parts of him were bloodied but he felt no pain from wounds, even in the places on his face and neck where he knew he had been cut open. It seemed his consciousness was not fated to last, however, as blackness lazily overtook him again, despite his best efforts to the contrary.
Tristan felt good. His armor felt like a part of his skin and his sword an extension of his arm as he easily cut down the hordes of insolent pony guards that assaulted him. They did not understand his dominance, that their place was at his heel, and so they had to be dealt with. Their death cries were music to his ears and the scent of their blood a sweet perfume as he breached the main gate of the castle.
Two faces that he recognized stood out to him from the others, those of Keen Edge and Noble Cause. He stayed his blade for a moment, thinking for a split-second that they were friends, before a deep voice rumbled from what seemed to be the earth itself.
“You have no allies in these ponies. They would treat you as a mere animal, when it is they who are so! Cut them down and assume your place of dominance!” the voice bellowed, shaking the foundations of the castle.
Tristan grinned and nodded, charging at the two. Keen attempted to fly over him but Tristan was too fast for even him, jumping at least five feet in the air and cleanly slicing off Keen’s wing mid-flight, causing him to careen into a wall, snapping his neck as he hit it. The moment his feet touched back to the ground Tristan swung at Noble, who barely managed to divert the attack with a blow of his hammer to the offending sword. Hatred burned noticeably in Noble’s eyes but Tristan did not care, for these animals were beneath him. His next strike disarmed Noble, and his final one cleanly decapitated him.
Tristan knew he was looking for something, or someone, but didn’t know what. He continually dispatched every guard that crossed his path, piling the hallways of the castle with bodies and flooding the floor with blood. From time to time he would check rooms, never finding what he was looking for. The latest door he opened was to an occupied room, which he strode into easily.
The room was filled with unarmed ponies, all cowering in fear. None spoke words, but each was obviously terrified, whinnying or squealing in dread like the animals Tristan knew they were. He hacked his way through body after body, none of which put up much of a fight, finally coming to five ponies that he almost felt something for.
Tristan looked upon the cowering forms of Iron Striker, her two foals, and Nurse Nightingale, seeing a fearful looking Motley Trade stand between Tristan and the other ponies, legs shaking terribly. Again Tristan stopped his merciless slaughter and regarded them with curiosity, wondering why he felt no animosity towards them. It was almost as if they were his friends...
“These ponies are beneath you, abominations of nature! They cannot feel as you do, they cannot think as you do, they are inferior! Take your rightful place as the dominant species!” the same voice from before roared out, causing the ground to rumble and a few of the ponies to lose balance and fall.
Tristan shook himself, berating himself for being so stupid. A few slices more left the five ponies as corpses, and so he finished his work in the room and left. The sense of needing to find something intensified, as he hurried ever swifter towards his unknown goal.
Tristan finally burst into a large room, finding the one he instantly knew to be his target seated in the center of it. Princess Celestia merely sat there, devoid of guards, and regarded him with a harsh stare. Tristan let out a deep laugh that was not his own and slowly advanced upon the princess, dragging his sword behind him and licking the blood that he was covered in from his lips.
“Your hold over this world shall end, Celestia! Your power is weak, your domain a jest, and your armies frail! You will fall!” Tristan yelled in the voice from earlier, his words resounding through the chamber and shattering the windows all around.
Tristan ran to Celestia, sword raised high, cackling maniacally all the while. He lunged forward to make his strike upon Celestia, who was not even defending herself. Suddenly, a bright light enveloped the world, and darkness followed.
Tristan awoke with a start, his heart pounding rapidly, jerking his head up from the soft pillow where it lay. The bright light of the room burned his eyes and disoriented him, and his limbs were unresponsive and numb. After blinking his eyes into clarity he saw that his torso, both of his arms, and both of his legs were in hard plaster casts.
Just a dream...I guess we got out of there all right, then. Damn thing must have done a number on me to warrant a cast like this. I just hope I don’t get an it- ah dammit.
Tristan struggled around to try to ease the itch he had summoned, to no effect. Resolving to ignore it, he decided to get someone in the room so he could find out what happened. A few shouts later yielded results, as a nurse ran inside to check on him.
“You’re finally up! One moment!” she cried out, turning back around and running out of the room after only giving him a fleeting glance.
Well that was odd...what if I had been in pain? Shoddy nurse, that one.
It wasn’t long before hoofsteps could be heard once again in the hallway outside his room. Lore came through the door alone, closing it behind him, and walked calmly to where Tristan lay.
“Well well well, what have we here? You finally decided to wake up, did you?” Lore said with a smirk, eyeing Tristan’s predicament.
“Don’t get all casual on me just yet, Lore. What the Hell happened? Specifically, what happened to Keen?” Tristan asked impatiently, leaving current matters for later.
With that, all casual pretence dropped from Lore’s demeanor and he sat down on a chair next to Tristan’s bed. “Well...let me just tell you what happened after you lost consciousness, it’d be best to have the whole story. And no questions this time! Save them until the end!” he said, letting out a deep sigh and beginning his tale.
Lore could tell that his fireball attacks were having little effect on the creature, and decided to change tactics. Noting that the monster was weaving through them with little difficulty and avoiding most of Noble’s attacks in that way, he began to heft any large object he could find in the creature’s path in an attempt to slow it down. The heavy telekinesis caused sweat to billow from his brow, but he knew that there was no escape from this creature; they had to kill it.
He noticed that the monster was slowing its movements very slightly, its writhing becoming less vigorous , and its attacks becoming more clumsy. Because of this Noble was able to hammer the great thing much more effectively, causing it to roar out in pain with each successive blow.
It can’t possibly be tiring out quite yet! There must be another force at work...either it’s biology is far more different than any creature in Equestria that I’ve seen so far, or perhaps...yes! Krik, as he called himself, that stinger, it must be poisoned!
As if it was responding to his thoughts the monster rolled itself over once, throwing Krik off from his position. A sickening crunch sounded from below him as Krik’s abdomen was crushed, leaking blood all over and eliciting a cry of pain from him as he writhed upon the ground.
The creature attempted attacking Noble several times, being unsuccessful each time as Noble nimbly dodged around, and then froze, letting loose an ear-splitting roar of pain from an unseen blow. The battle halted as it cried unto the heavens, and a blade pierced its stomach from the inside out.
The blade sliced its way down and a hole opened up, spilling a green sizzling liquid, a mass of stones the size of a pony’s head, and an injured Keen onto the ground below it. Keen had his sword still clutched in his mouth but was nowhere near ready to continue fighting. His fur was covered in the green ooze and melted off in some places, exposing blackened skin underneath. His eyes were swollen shut, a deep black in color. All that he managed to do was puke up a large amount of the ooze and fall face first in it.
“Keen! Don’t you dare die on me after that or I will murder you, do you understand?” Noble yelled out, redoubling his efforts at pounding the monster. With each successive blow more green ooze spurt out of the wound, until it finally stopped and it seemed that muscles had closed up the wound for now.
The monster, seemingly recovered from its wound, ignored Noble’s continuing attacks and decided to go for Lore instead, slithering away from Noble as best it could and making its way to where Lore was continually hampering its movements.
With only two of us left, I’m not sure how much we can do against this beast. Yet, if I may slay it, I shall!
Lore charged to the side of the creature, attempting to take advantage of its poisoned state by making it turn as much as possible. However, he wasn’t nearly as fast as Noble or Keen, and misjudged the remaining strength the monster had. With a sudden burst of speed it caught up to him, lunging at him with its mouth wide open, sharp teeth gleaming in the light.
Before he could even attempt to dodge the attack was diverted by a heavy blow. Lore looked in shock, having just seen death flying straight at him, expecting to see Noble with his hammer. Instead, he saw Krik back on his legs, clinging to the monster’s head and stinging it directly in its one good eye. His abdomen shone oddly in the light, as if wet, and there was not a single crack or deformation to be seen on it.
“I’ve tackled beasts far worse than this, do not fear! It shall go the same way as all who have defied the formians!” Krik cried out, practically laughing as he drove his stinger ever deeper into the thrashing head of the creature.
Noble and Keen stood stunned for a moment before joining in the attack on the now blind beast. Lore saw that it was attempting to escape again, and so he continually hampered all attempts by collapsing dying trees in its path, keeping it from leaving the area. After another minute of undiluted punishment the monster slithered around erratically, roaring in abject torment, before collapsing down to the ground to heave its final breaths. However, the place it collapsed was not unoccupied, and the full mass of the monstrosity fell on the unconscious Keen.
“Keen, no!” Noble yelled in anguish, dropping his hammer in an instant and bucking at the dying monster with all of his strength in an attempt to get it off of his friend. Krik seemed to get the idea, as he went to help, and Lore added the last of his waning magic to the effort. Slowly the bulk lifted up, and Noble was able to pull his crushed friend out.
Both Krik and Lore stood silent and Noble checked Keen’s vitals, finding them to be still. They could do nothing but look on as Noble did everything he could to revive his friend, but they all knew that he was gone. Lore gave a deep sigh, turning his attention from the now lifeless body of Keen to the still breathing one of Tristan.
Knowing that it was futile to attempt to drag Noble from the side of his departed friend, Lore went to Tristan alone, checking over his situation. A quick magical assessment showed that a great deal of his bones had been broken, and a large amount of blood lost, as evidenced by the pool Tristan was currently lying in.
Though he wasn’t particularly experienced in medical magic he was at least knowledgeable in the basics, and so was able to at least help a little. After taking off Tristan’s armor he snapped the bones of the mercifully unconscious Tristan back into place, forming a weak bond between the countless breaks and fractures to keep them in place for a while. He then attended to the exterior wounds, stopping the blood flowing from them and tenuously working together the flesh as best he could. Lastly, he produced from his pack a vial of red liquid which he poured down Tristan’s throat, to numb him should he wake up. Satisfied with his work, he turned back to Noble, seeing Krik standing next to him in what he assumed was meant to be a comforting stance.
Amazing that we’ve only just met that thing, yet it fought with us almost to the death, and here it is staying with us afterwards...an interesting specimen as well, to say the least. I suppose I’ll need to get the talking and formalities over with as quickly as possible, so that we can get Tristan proper help.
Krik saw Lore looking his way and slowly made his way over to him. “I am deeply sorry for the loss of your comrade. He fought bravely, and would have made his hive proud,” Krik said in an unmistakingly apologetic voice.
“Yes...well, he knew what he was getting into. I believe that’s how he’d have wanted to go out anyway: fighting. But we have no time to waste, as my friend here is still injured. There are some things we must discuss, if you’re willing,” Lore said, composing himself from the fight and traumatic death.
Krik just looked expectantly at Lore, who took a deep breath and began. “We have been sent here to find intelligent and non-hostile rift spawn, which would be yourself, and bring them back with us. Should you come, you will be treated fairly, given meals, and helped to integrate to the society of this world as a whole. It is in your interest, as well as ours, to get you out of this forest,” he said, trying to sound as official as possible.
Krik stared at him for a moment, as if registering what he had said. “No, I’m afraid I cannot leave this spot. You have my apologies,” he finally stated.
“But...why not?” Lore queried haltingly, his hopes plummeting.
“I am forever sworn to my queen and sovereign, and must do whatever I may to get back to her. That dreadful portal placed me here, and so I wait for it to reopen. I must not take any chance of missing my opportunity to return to her,” Krik responded neutrally.
“But that’s not how these rifts work! They never reopen to the same place!” Lore spurted out.
Krik froze, eyeing Lore suspiciously. “And on what authority do you make such a claim? Are you involved in the creation of such portals?” he said harshly.
“No, no, I assure you it’s nothing of the sort! I merely study them, but I swear to you upon all that I value that waiting here will do you no good!” Lore responded quickly, mentally berating himself for his lack of tact.
Krik stared at him once more as if sizing him up before finally speaking. “Very well then, I will go with you. But know this. If I find that you have lied, and that the portal would likely have re-opened here, then there shall be no force in this realm powerful enough to stop me from enacting my vengeance,” he said calmly and evenly.
Not many things could unnerve Lore, but this proved to be one of them. He gulped and nodded, suddenly very afraid of Krik again. “V-very well, but I’m not lying,” he said shakily. At that Krik gave him a nod, and turned to check on Noble.
They fashioned Tristan a mat from Keen’s packs and tied him securely to it with ropes, strengthening the bottom of it with magic so Tristan wouldn’t be jostled around enough to cause more damage. Noble volunteered to carry Keen’s corpse back himself, and Lore pulled Tristan physically, his magical energies all but exhausted. With that they made their way back with little trouble.
“...and that’s the gist of what happened. When we returned to the guard station you were given preliminary treatment and rushed here. I’m afraid you’ve missed Keen’s service, which was four days ago. You’ve been unconscious for about a week, and the doctors were unsure if you were ever going to wake up,” Lore finished.
And I thought I had it bad...Frankly, I’m just glad I made it out of that alive. That’s gotta be some sort of miracle for a guy like me to go up against something like that and live to tell about it. Things could have gone a lot worse...
“...So Keen didn’t make it, then,” Tristan finally said, feeling rather empty inside at the thought, despite the fact that he had only known the pony for about two weeks. “He was a good man...pony. How’s Noble been since?”
“He hasn’t let it interfere with his duties, but those two went way back. He got some leave, and he’s been spending time with his family, last I heard,” Lore responded.
“And that ant thing, Krik? What’s been going on with him?” Tristan asked.
“Ah, Krik...we’ve been talking quite a bit, as you might have expected. His culture, physiology, everything, it’s just fascinating. He places a very high value on lawfulness, as opposed to chaos. Apparently on his world those were the major two forces battling it out, so to speak. So, when you do see him again, keep that in mind,” Lore answered, his eyes lighting up at the recollection of his talks with Krik.
“Glad to see you’re having such...fun. I’ve gotta ask though, what’s going to happen to me, specifically? I did what Celestia asked, and nearly got killed doing it. That’s gotta be worth something,” Tristan asserted.
“Yes, well, I’ll let this letter do the talking,” Lore began, unfurling a scroll from his saddlebag and clearing his throat. “In accordance with her royal highness’ wishes, the being known as Mr. Tristan Davis is hereby absolved of all crimes against the sovereign nation of Equestria and is given freedom to do as he pleases, as long as he reports back to his caretaker, Mr. Virgin Lore, no less than once a month until further notice. Signed, Feather Quill, royal secretary to her highness Celestia,” he read aloud.
“So...I’m free to do whatever I want? That’s it?” Tristan asked in disbelief.
“Well, so long as you check in with me every so often, yes. Mind you, you’re not going to be in any state to leave the hospital any time soon. Other than that, I suppose you’re free to do as you please, which I personally find rather surprising. One task, and you get to do anything you wish? I suppose the princess knows best...” Lore responded, looking rather pensive towards the end.
“Hell yeah! I’m a free man!” Tristan began happily. “Now I can...err...what am I supposed to do, anyway? And how would that help me with getting back home?” he finished.
“Yes, well, that’s the issue, isn’t it? You have the freedom to do as you please, but no idea about what to do with that freedom. Of course, you could always just stay with Krik and I, and help further research that just might help get you home...” Lore said expectantly.
“Hey, I’m not some lab rat, alright? I’ll need some time to think about it at any rate, not like I’m going anywhere. How long am I gonna be here, anyway?” Tristan shot back.
“Magical medicine being what it is these days I’d say...oh, another week or two. I suppose I’ll leave you to that, then. I’ll come by daily to check up on you. Other than that, farewell for now!” Lore said, leaving the room without paying any heed to Tristan as he called for him to wait.
At least Lore hasn’t changed...asshole. Another week of being bored outta my skull, joy! I’ve gotta stop getting injured so often, this is getting annoying.
Tristan mused for a while on his situation, thinking of possible things that he could do after leaving the hospital. The only thing he really thought would be interesting was learning how to use magic, the idea of which enthralled him. As he had no use of his limbs nor anything else to take up his time, he simply daydreamed and contemplated until sleep finally took him.
The next few days were perhaps the most boring Tristan had ever known. Save for fleeting visits from Lore that never lasted more than ten minutes and checkups from various nurses and doctors he had absolutely nothing to do. Upon inquiry of why he wasn’t in the same room he had recovered in before, he was told that his injuries required observation and care that only a full hospital were able to give, as opposed to the more passive care from his previous wounds. It also seemed that his being there was currently a secret, at least until he was to be released, to keep other patients at ease.
In addition to the incredible boredom that he was experiencing, his dreams were becoming more vivid and strange. Whereas he could usually only remember bits and pieces of dreams he had, he was able to fully recall what he dreamed every night, and it was always the same. Always the strange, deep voice influencing him, always to rise against the ponies that held so much sway over him. He wasn’t sure if it was simply resentment for his situation or repressed thoughts, but the dreams were getting to him.
Six days passed like this, and he was told that he would finally be released from the hospital the next morning. His injuries had healed at last, and he wanted nothing more than to leave his bed.
Tristan awoke slowly, luxuriously stretching his limbs and cracking his joints. He didn’t know why but the bed felt much softer and more comfortable than it had any morning prior. After scratching a bothersome itch on his nose the realization finally stuck him - the cast was off, and he was wearing a new set of clothes, much like his old ones.
Wait...they took the cast off...in my sleep? Can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing...damn magic.
After blearily rubbing his eyes he looked to a table beside him and spied the cane he had used before, likely laid there by Lore’s command. He grabbed the cane and hoisted himself out of bed, enjoying the feeling of the cool tile floor beneath his feet. He tested his muscles to see if he could walk, and found that, with the help of the cane, he was able to without much difficulty.
Medical magic...all the healing, and all the atrophy, in a fraction of the time. A good thing, too. My luck has never been all that great, but getting hospitalized twice in two months is just ridiculous. So, am I supposed to just walk right on out, no inspection or anything? Seems pretty odd. Eh, I’m just gonna wing it for once...I’ve gotta get out of this room, and never come back.
He brashly flung open the door without another thought, knocking a passing nurse that he recognized as being one who had tended him previously to the ground in the process. “Oh, sorry!” Tristan said, bumbling around to help the nurse back up to her hooves.
“No harm done, it was an accident after all...” she said, rubbing the nape of her neck gingerly with a hoof. At that moment another nurse whom Tristan hadn't met rushed to the side of the other and shot Tristan a downright hostile glare.
“What did that spawn do to you? I told you he was trouble, who let him walk about on his own?” she questioned harshly to the other nurse.
“Now, Ambrosia, it was an accident,” the nameless nurse shot back. “I think they’re expecting you up at the front, Tristan, was it? Just take a left at the end of the hallway and follow the stairs down, it’ll be right at the bottom,” she said, motioning with a hoof towards the hallway.
“Oh, err, thanks! Sorry again,” Tristan responded, giving Ambrosia a confused look. He quickly followed the nurse’s directions, awkwardly navigating down the stairs with his cane, and came to a room lined with waiting ponies on the walls and with a large desk in the center.
The receptionist caught Tristan’s eye and waved him over, to which he complied. As he hobbled towards the desk he couldn’t help but overhear the hushed whispers of all of the ponies, with a great deal of unkind words thrown into the mix.
“Mr. Davis, I see you’re up and about. I apologise for the circumstances, but your caretaker requested that you see yourself out. Not quite sure why, but I don’t make the rules!” the receptionist said chipperly.
“Should have figured it was Lore...so, I just, leave, then?” Tristan said haltingly. “No money, no directions, no anything, just out the doors?”
“Well, you’re to be told to go to the castle as soon as you can if you’re willing, but other than that, you’re correct!” the receptionist replied, still unusually bright in her demeanor.
Lore didn’t say anything about any of this! Who the Hell sends someone who was bedridden for like two weeks out into a city they know nothing about filled with citizens that hate and fear them, all alone and without any direction? Jackass.
Tristan let out a sigh and thanked the receptionist, turning around towards the large double doors of the hospital. He swept his gaze over the waiting ponies and found some mirth in how they all quieted down as he made eye contact with them. Letting out a small chuckle, he strode towards the door and out of the hospital.
The bright sun of day was the first to greet him as he stepped outside, viciously assaulting his eyes. He took a moment to simply drink in the scene in front of him, amazed at pony society in full swing. Ponies of all types and colors were going about their daily rituals, buying, selling, chatting, and doing all sorts of things. He noticed that many of them wore clothes, as opposed to the norm he had known from Stalliongrad, and that the clothes seemed to be pretty fancy. More than anything, he was just glad to have a bit of freedom for once.
A few ponies paid him heed with curt glances but none stopped to stare or speak to him, all electing to ignore him in the end instead. That worked just fine for Tristan, as he spied the castle in the distance and made his way towards it.
You know what? Screw those ponies. I don’t care about what they think of me, so long as they’re not openly working against me. Let them think what they will...I’ve got better things to do than worry about them. Kinda.
His progress was slow but unhampered by crowds. They seemed to be actively avoiding him, and parted in front of him, giving him a wide berth. He quickened his pace, becoming a little unnerved by the strangely uniform behavior of the ponies.
Can’t say I blame ‘em...and I’m not complaining! These do look like snobby types though, even by pony standards. I guess this place is the capital, though, so it makes some sense that there would be a lot of those types...
The walk was unexpectedly straightforward, as he soon found himself on a main road that seemed to lead up to the castle, which led off into numerous side streets. The entire time not a single pony greeted him, as they all looked on with disdain, indifference, fear, or even hatred. It was beginning to get to him a little, but he didn’t have much time to ruminate on the issue as he found himself at a checkpoint at the entrance to the castle grounds.
Two pegasi guards immediately flew into his path, blocking his entry. “Halt! Our orders are to see you to the castle if you wish to enter, but you are not allowed entrance alone. Do you accept these terms?” one of the guards questioned in what Tristan was sure was his best impression of an authoritative voice.
“Yeah, sure, why not? Just take me to Lore, will you?” Tristan responded, somewhat numb to the idea of being escorted around everywhere by now. He had a fleeting yearning for his days at home where he was truly free, but turned his thoughts to other matters to keep himself on task.
With that the guards gave him a nod and arranged themselves behind and in front of him, forming a mock convoy. Tristan didn’t have time to admire the scenery or the like as he approached the imposing castle, as the guards kept a brisk pace. Eventually they led him inside, through several hallways, and into an all too familiar room.
“Wait here, Mr. Lore will be by shortly to see to you,” one of the guards said sharply, at which they both turned tail and left him.
Tristan looked around the room to see that it hadn’t changed a bit since his last internment there, and spotting his gear from the foray into the forest lying in the corner.
You had this all planned out, didn’t you Lore? Bah, I suppose it’s not like I had any better options...I wonder if I’ll be seeing Nightingale again?
Tristan took a seat on the bed to ease his already aching legs as he waited for Lore. Sure enough, the door soon opened to reveal the stallion in question.
“So you did decide to come back, excellent!” Lore exclaimed in a tone that Tristan couldn’t place as sarcasm or serious.
“Yeah yeah, it’s not like I had anything else to do. So, what’s the deal? Why would you have me walk through a city I’ve never been through alone right after having like, half of my bones broken? That doesn’t make any sense!” Tristan said, the aggravation showing easily in his voice.
“Oh don’t be so cross about it. You got here fine, didn’t you?” Lore began, at which Tristan shot him a venomous glare. “There was a reason for that, you know. You have your freedom now, and you would have likely have wanted to leave had I prepared you, would you have not?” he continued, as Tristan sat silent.
“Quite. I take it the ponies you passed by on your way here weren’t particularly accepting, were they? I merely wanted to show you that the best course of action was to remain under my watchful eye, nothing more. Can you disagree?” Lore finished smugly.
“Listen here, buddy. I’ve just about had it with this crap,” Tristan began indignantly, rising to his feet. “I am not just some toy, or some object to be manipulated, you hear me? If you’re going to act like that then I don’t care what’s best for me, I’ll leave despite that! So either you’re going to start treating me like a person, or I’m outta here!” he finished, flailing his cane into the air at the end for emphasis.
Lore looked rather taken aback at the display, and actually hung his head down in what could have been shame. “Y-yes, you’re correct...” he stammered, shame obvious in his voice.
“...What?” Tristan asked in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been told my social skills and tact can be a bit...lacking. It’s just that you really would be happier staying here, and I just wanted to ensure that you would make the right choice. If I make an honest effort to treat you more like an equal, you will stay to help further my studies, though? And help find a way to get you home, of course,” Lore responded sadly.
Woah, what the Hell is this? Is he leading me on? Or is this actually for real? An apologetic...Lore? On one hand he’s still been an asshole, but on the other, this really is my best bet...and if he’s not just faking this, there may be some hope for the guy yet.
“Alright, alright! You’re kinda creeping me out with that sudden change though, ease up on the emotions! I’ll stick with you for awhile at least,” Tristan finally said, rapidly becoming uncomfortable with the situation.
“Ah, excellent!” Lore said, cheering up immediately and earning some more apprehension from Tristan. “I doubt you’ll regret the decision, truly. There is one matter that needs your attention, however...” he trailed off, looking hesitant.
“Something that needs my attention, eh? I really don’t know what that might be, but lay it on me,” Tristan urged Lore on.
“Well, it’s Krik. He’s been talking about some strange dreams lately, but he refuses to tell me what they’re about. Oddly enough, he requested that he could talk to you about them,” Lore said.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Tristan considered the implications of what Lore had just said. On one hand he thought that there was no way the dreams he was having could be related, but on the other, considering all the crazy things he had been through in the last month or so, he had a feeling they would somehow be related anyway.
“...But why would he want to talk to me about it? I’m no dream interpreter, or whatever you call those wackos,” Tristan said uncertainly.
“I haven’t a clue, but he’s been rather insistent. He wanted it to be in private, as well...truthfully I’m rather skeptical of the whole thing, but he’s been cooperative so far, and hasn’t given us any reason to deny his request. So, will you?” Lore responded.
“Well...I guess I will; I suppose I’ll be in close contact with him for a while, so it’d sure be awkward for me to refuse...” Tristan finally agreed.
“Very well then, I’ll take you to him. Oh, and before I do that, I suppose I should tell you the new protocols as far as your freedom goes,” Lore said. “You’re to be allowed access to all of the public parts of the castle alone if you wish, though not the restricted areas without accompaniment, save for this specific part that houses your room and Krik’s. You can also wander freely about the town, but I recommend that you don’t.”
“Why not? I’d like to get outside the castle every now and then, you know. This place is nice enough, but a guy can go a little stir-crazy,” Tristan questioned.
“It’s simply the ponies. While there has been a public decree regarding you, very few ponies are going to be welcoming of you, given the reputation rift spawn have. While it shouldn’t be too much of a problem for most, there may be some that would become violent if they thought they could get away with it...” Lore responded.
“Lovely. Well, I guess that makes you my chaperone, then? I’ve gotta get out from time to time, so you’ll just have to accompany me. That work?” Tristan asked.
“I have more imp-...” Lore began, stopping mid-word as he looked like he was thinking about something. “You know what, yes. You’ve been very cooperative so far, and you deserve it.”
Tristan stood stunned for a moment, before shaking his head a few times. “Right, I guess you are going to be trying to improve...good on you, Lore. Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. What am I supposed to be doing, anyway? Like, am I supposed to just sit here in the castle doing nothing? Just being a leech for my whole life?” he asked.
“I suppose that’s up to you. I haven’t been told anything regarding employment; I suppose it’s not really out of the question...did you have something in mind? What’s your special talent?” Lore responded.
“Special talent? Well, I was in school for business, but I don’t really see that happening here. One thing that I think would be really cool to learn, that I didn’t even know existed until I came here, is magic. Think you could teach me how to do some of that stuff you do?” Tristan questioned.
“Ah, well, you see...it just doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid. Only unicorns can actively cast magic,” Lore answered awkwardly. “Sorry. You can’t just give something the ability to cast magic, it’s innate, and focused through the horn.”
“I see...well, that sucks. But I digress, I believe we had something to do...where’s Krik?” Tristan queried, crestfallen.
“I’ll take you to him; he’s not far,” Lore answered, beckoning Tristan to join him. Tristan’s legs grudgingly obliged, and they made their way down the hallway to a room quite near Tristan’s. Tristan looked expectantly at Lore, who turned to the door and gave three short knocks.
“Oh, so you knock for him? I see how it is,” Tristan pouted.
“Grow a deadly stinger and I might knock for you too,” Lore responded with a smirk. They heard a call from inside and Lore magically opened the door, letting Tristan inside. However, he did not enter the room, and shut the door quickly behind Tristan.
Inside of the room, next to a very unconventional bed that looked more like a dog basket than anything, stood Krik. Tristan felt an automatic fear course through his subconscious at the ant-like creature in front of him and his heart began to race, but he consciously quelled his fears.
“Err, hey again. You...wanted to talk to me?” Tristan meekly asked, finding it hard to make eye contact with Krik’s strange, beady black eyes.
“Yes, I believe that you would be best suited to assist me in this rather sensitive matter. Please, take a seat,” Krik answered, his voice once again completely unsuited for his form, being far too pleasant and deep.
Tristan awkwardly looked around and spied a chair, which he promptly sat on. The whole situation was making him feel like a small child again, called to the principal’s office for some wrongdoing.
“There are a few questions that I would like addressed before we attend to the matter at hand, if you find that agreeable,” Krik began. Tristan waited a moment, thinking it to be rhetorical, but eventually gave a nod of assent. “Very well. Firstly, I would like you to tell me what you know of the ponies. Be truthful, for I am not one you wish to lie to.”
“Well...where do I begin? It’s kinda a broad subject...” Tristan asserted.
“Specifically, how have they treated you? What do you know of their society, and would you consider it just and lawful? Do you believe them to be unsavory creatures? I understand you are in a place similar to my own, and as such you should have valuable insight,” Krik responded patiently.
“Well, they’ve treated me...well, that’s kinda a mixed bag, actually. My first contact involved them trying to kill me...and my second and third contact involved me almost killing some of them! I can kinda understand why they might have done that, but that doesn’t change the fact that they attacked me unprovoked,” Tristan began.
“Some of them are just assholes. I’ve met a good few of those...but there were some others...” Tristan trailed off, thinking of Motley, Iron, and Nightingale specifically. “They certainly aren’t all bad. I think they’re just scared, really. Scared enough to take a shot at anything that moved, before being provoked. My analytical side can understand that precautions needed to be taken if what they’ve told me is true, but it still doesn’t sit right with me,” Tristan finished.
Krik, who had been listening attentively, gave Tristan a nod. “Yes, I thought as much. They are not inherently chaotic, nor evil, but they lack the grace and single-mindedness of the formians. That is why...these dreams are troublesome.”
“Right, the dreams. I don’t suppose they involved a deep, roaring voice telling you to do stuff, did they?” Tristan asked jokingly, despite the seriousness of the question.
Krik stood silent for a moment, his antennae swiveling about but the rest of his body still. “I merely wished for counsel, but are you telling me that you know of such dreams?” he finally asked.
“Well, yeah, actually. Since I got injured, I started having them...but just to make sure we’re talking about the same thing here, what did the voice command you to do?” Tristan queried.
“...Things I would not do normally. Harming innocents without reason, and usurping rightful authority. Such thoughts are punishable by death in the hive,” Krik responded solemnly.
“Just the thoughts? How could they punish you for just thinking something?” Tristan questioned.
“Ah, yes. I don’t believe you know much of my kind, do you?” Krik began, seemingly distracted from his melancholy. “You see, every formian, from the lowest worker to the queen herself, is constantly connected by the hive mind. In battle it is the ultimate tactical tool, as we each communicate instantly and seamlessly.”
“Yeah, that does sound pretty useful! Can’t you ever turn it off, though?” Tristan asked, fascinated.
“No, from the moment we are born to the moment we die we are connected. At least...that is the way it should be. That is a primary factor in why I felt the need to speak with someone, actually. Being alone is not something any formian should ever have to go through,” Krik responded sadly.
“Oh, right...err...” Tristan said, thinking of something to change the subject. “So...what do you want to do about this dream stuff, anyway? I don’t think telling Lore about it would be a very good idea.”
“Those were my thoughts as well, which is why I specifically requested to speak to you. Seeing as your situation closely mirrors my own, I decided that you would be the best to approach about such a matter. To one such as myself, a dream like that is disturbing, to say the least. Knowing that you share it honestly does provide me some comfort, however. It means it is not of my own doing, but that of an outside force,” Krik pondered.
“An outside force? Are you suggesting-” Tristan was startled by a sudden rapping on the door.
“Are you two almost finished in there? There’s someone else here to see you, Tristan,” Lore’s voice came through the door.
Tristan looked to Krik, who gave him a nod, and yelled his consent for the door to be opened. When it did Lore stepped in, followed by Nightingale.
“Nightingale! So you did stop by!” Tristan cried happily, the thoughts he had been stewing in forgotten for a moment.
“Of course I did, dearie! They wouldn’t let you have any visitors except for Lore at the hospital, despite my being a nurse, but I was worried about you,” Nightingale said cheerily, fluttering over to give Tristan a hug. “It must be hard not having many friends here, so I just had to stop by. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Oh no, ‘course not! It really is nice to see a friendly face...” Tristan responded. “Anyway, I’m doing alright, as you can see, but that thing sure did a number on me. I’m just glad to be on my feet again. That was the most boring week I’ve ever experienced...I can’t tell which was worse, the boredom or the initial crushing.”
At that Nightingale looked genuinely horrified. “H-hey! That was a joke, sarcasm, ok?” Tristan sputtered.
“You shouldn’t joke about things like that, dearie...but anyway,” she began, coming back to her normal demeanor. “I do have a lot of work to get to, but I wanted to stop by and say hello. I’ll just leave you boys to it, then,” Nightingale said, leaving the room as the others bade goodbye.
“Heh...women, am I right?” Tristan said jokingly to no one in particular.
“You should know that your...dark sense of humor won’t usually be well-received,” Lore responded. “It’s not just mares; it’s most ponies.”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t dark at all. But anyway...did you need something, Lore?” Tristan said, glancing over to Krik who had been patiently waiting.
“No, I just came by to bring Nightingale. She honestly wouldn’t stop pestering me about you. Something or another about everyone needing friends; I honestly didn’t listen to most of it,” Lore said without a hint of joviality.
“Uh huh...well, Krik and I were talking, so could you just, y’know...leave?” Tristan said, making overt motions towards the door.
“Fine, fine. I have things to attend to, anyway,” Lore responded, promptly leaving the room without a goodbye.
“Now, where were we?” Tristan said, turning back to Krik.
They continued their talk for several hours, until the sun finally set and gave way to night. Tristan learned a great deal about Krik, finding his society to be primarily militaristic in nature, with very little individual expression. The subject of the strange dreams did not come up again, though Tristan couldn’t help but continue thinking about it.
The next three days were spent back in physical therapy, just as before, with Lore. Krik was present for much of the time, given that Lore was now charged with watching over both of them. It was not until the morning of the fourth day that the routine was interrupted.
“Wake up, wake up! Make yourself presentable, we’ve been called to see the princess!” Lore yelled into Tristan’s room, instantly rousing him. “Move, move, quickly!” he shouted again, immediately leaving, while Tristan sat up confused in his bed.
Damn Lore, can’t wake a guy like normal...wait, did he say princess?
The realization of what Lore said sunk in and Tristan’s muscles all sprung into action at once as he leapt from his bed. He hurriedly brushed his teeth and hair and shaved with the straight razor he was given, managing to cut himself a few times even though he had been using it since he began staying there. After attending to his duties in the restroom he hastily donned his clothes and waited for Lore to return.
It didn’t take long for him to do so, bursting through the door and beckoning Tristan to follow him. Lore’s mane was somewhat disheveled and his gaze was darting, which told Tristan that he really didn’t want to upset him. Upon entering the hallway he saw Krik, wearing nothing but his ornate bronze helmet as usual, and they went on their way.
“Uh, Lore...might wanna tidy yourself up a bit. I know it’s the princess and all but she seemed reasonable enough last time; there’s no need to get so worked up,” Tristan offered as they hastily made their way through the halls to the throne room.
Lore looked almost insulted, but stopped for a moment and tidied himself up nonetheless. The trio finally entered into the throne room to see Celestia, flanked by guards, sitting upon her throne. Lore immediately bowed, with Tristan quickly following suit, though Krik didn’t.
“Please, rise” Celestia began in her regal, even tone. “I have called you three here for a very important reason. Equestria has something to request of you.”
Speaking as the whole of Equestria, eh? Monarchs...or diarches, as it is.
She paused for a moment to allow them to interject if they wished to, continuing after a few moments. “In recent times it has been no secret that diplomatic relations with foreign nations have been somewhat strained. Many blame Equestria for the rifts, as it was our portal network that caused them. One nation that has been affected rather severely, Zebrica, has heard of the two of you,” she said, turning her gaze to Tristan and Krik. “Their ambassador has requested that you visit Zebrica, to show that not all rift spawn are mindless beasts. If you do so there may be hope of saving further intelligent rift spawn that would otherwise be slain with the rest.”
Tristan looked hesitantly at Krik to gauge his reaction to the proposal, finding that his eyes were still locked firmly on the princess. Celestia seemed to be waiting for either of them to say something, but he was at a loss at what to do.
Sounds like it could just be some sort of trap, but she doesn’t seem stupid enough to let that happen...but really, I don’t want to go on another adventure. I need some time to rest, and I’m going to get it!
“Isn’t this a bit sudden? And why would we wish to go? Would we be getting paid for this or the like?” Tristan finally asked, making sure to not look at Lore lest he get the evil eye.
“So, you wish for further compensation in addition to staying here in the castle for free?” Celestia began in an almost harsh tone, causing Tristan to instantly regret his question. “Of course something could be worked out,” she continued, her tone abruptly changing and a small smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of Tristan’s confused face. “Though, I am unsure of what you would desire. Would bits suffice?”
Tristan thought over the idea for a moment, but before he could respond Lore began to speak. “If I may, princess, I have a suggestion,” he began, looking to Celestia for permission to continue, which she gave with a nod. “Tristan stated earlier that he has interest in learning how to use magic. While he couldn’t cast magic as a unicorn, the alchemy that the zebras practice can produce magical potions, without the need for inherent magical aptitude. I propose that, in exchange for his cooperation, he be allowed to learn from them, at your decree,” he offered, sweating nervously but maintaining his composure in speech.
“Do you find that to be agreeable?” Celestia asked, turning again to Tristan.
Alchemy, eh? Mixing up potions of all sorts...healing, mana, haste, all the good stuff...well, at least their real world equivalents. Would that make me like a shaman or something? I’ve gotta admit, that does sound pretty awesome...
After a few moments of deliberation he finally spoke. “If you can make that happen, and make sure that I don’t get gored, dismembered, sliced, punctured, or otherwise seriously injured again, I’ll do it.”
Celestia gave a nod and turned her attention to Krik. “And what would you ask in return, Krik?” she asked kindly.
“Nothing but the chance to hasten my trip back home. It sounds like these Zebras may have insight unto my plight, if they are plagued by these rifts as well” he answered neutrally.
“Very well. Krik, Tristan, I trust you can find your ways back to your rooms?” Celestia responded, at which Tristan vigorously shook his head negatory at the thought of the winding passages and Krik sedately shook his affirmative.
“Ah, well...I’ll just follow you, then,” Tristan said awkwardly, turning and following Krik as they were dismissed, while Lore and Celestia discussed logistics.
Krik seemed to know his way around the hallways quite well, as he never paused at any junction and kept moving silently forward. Some guards and civilians gave them wary looks but none approached them, and before long they found their way back to their rooms.
“So...” Tristan began, as they stood by his door. “Looks like we’re going to be off again, eh? Hope it goes better than last time...”
“From what Lore has told me your previous journey was perilous by nature, was it not?” Krik asked, to which Tristan slowly nodded. “This is simply a march from point A to point B; there’s nothing inherently dangerous about it. Even if it was to be hazardous, I shall be accompanying you, and I’ve slain beasts far greater than the one we encountered in that forest,” he finished, sounding as unreadable as always.
“Heh...guess you’re right. But hey, you go from the life of a student, where the only action you see is in video games and movies, to getting gored, stabbed, and crushed within a short period of time...it’s bound to make a guy a bit hesitant, don’t you think?” Tristan agreed, shrugging off another feeling that told him to run from the ant monster in front of him.
“No, I cannot say that I do think as such, but you are no formian. I wish you peace of mind, nonetheless,” Krik responded.
“Mmm...well, see you in a bit, Krik, I think I need a bit of time to myself...” Tristan said, waving Krik goodbye as he marched off. With that Tristan entered his room and laid himself upon his bed, musing on his future.
Several hours later Lore finally came to see Tristan, bringing him out of his thoughts. With him he brought Tristan’s dinner, along with a large pack that was covered in all manner of pockets.
“Got something for you here; I think you’ll enjoy it,” Lore said, hefting the pack onto Tristan’s bed.
“Huh...well, what is it?” Tristan asked incredulously.
“Well, your impromptu decision to take up alchemy got me thinking...” Lore began.
“Yeah, about that. Think you could have given me a bit of warning? I’ve thought about it, and it really does sound pretty cool, but I generally like to think about what I’m going to commit to before I commit to it, y’know?” Tristan interjected.
“Sorry about that,” Lore said with a hint of remorse, staring directly at the ground. “I didn’t know what the meeting was about either, you know. The idea for alchemy just came to me, and I suspected you would enjoy it.”
When Tristan didn’t respond Lore continued. “Anyway, before I get to your little gift, let me tell you a little bit about alchemy here in Equestria,” Lore began anew, settling down into his lecturing tone of voice.
“You see, it used to be a fairly common practice, with earth ponies and pegasi practicing it frequently, and even unicorns practicing it, though less often. This was before the three races united, of course,” Lore began, holding up a hoof as Tristan was about to ask a question. “That’s another story; perhaps I’ll take you to the annual Hearth’s Warming play this coming winter. As I was saying, potions were created for all manner of things, from healing, to augmentation, to poison. This all fell out of practice when the races united, as unicorns could create all of those effects without the need for reagents.”
“While ponies rarely practice it any more other races still do, with zebras being the chief practitioners. Since you wanted to be able to use magic, but you can’t yourself, you can at least try to simulate the effects with potions. What I brought you is a starter kit of sorts, with the basic equipment and some common reagents, along with a small guide. What do you think?” Lore finished expectantly.
Tristan said nothing, turning to the pack and rummaging around in it for a moment. Each pocket contained a different reagent, usually a herb, and the main bag included a pestle and mortar, along with the book, plenty of glass vials, several measuring spoons of varying sizes, and a small jug of water.
“Yeah...yeah, this stuff looks like it’ll do fine. Thanks, Lore. I really do appreciate it, you know,” Tristan finally responded with a smile.
Finally got something to do! Bet my friends back home would be jealous of me, at least as far as the alchemy is concerned. Can’t let myself just waste away idling forever, and I can’t let Lore just boss me around forever either. This will give me something I can maybe even support myself with...
Lore looked at Tristan for a moment, giving him a chance to continue speaking. “You are going to need to be careful with that, you know. I pulled a lot of strings to let you have that, since some of the things you could make would be poisons. I’m going to be trusting you with this, alright?” he finally asserted.
“I know, and I really do appreciate it. You’re turning out to be a pretty good guy, Lore...well...you have your moments, at least,” Tristan assured him, flipping open the small hardbound book, which had a picture of a bubbling flask on it.
“I’ll see about having a desk brought in for you to work on. Until then, I have quite a bit of work to do, mostly involving our next little venture. Sleep well, Tristan,” Lore said, ignoring Tristan’s comment and trotting out of the room.
It took a total of two days for the preparations for their trip to be made. Part of their journey was to be by an unfinished train line to Zebrica, while the rest was to be on foot. Noble was assigned to guard them again, as they would be on the open road for a while and he was already familiar with the circumstances surrounding Tristan and Krik.
Tristan spent the time waiting studying his book and creating potions, though he didn’t trust any of them enough to actually try drinking or otherwise applying them. Lore assured him that they could be analyzed in Zebrica to see how well they were made, so he was content to simply store away his creations and use color as an indicator as to whether or not he did well.
Other than the occasional visit from Krik, Lore, or Nightingale, Tristan was alone for the entire time. He found himself missing his friends and family more each day, but refused to allow himself to wallow in his memories, as he knew he wouldn’t like the outcome. The troublesome dreams persisted, but he felt that he was growing numb to them, and didn’t pay them any special heed.
The day of departure dawned and Tristan had just finished packing his bags, making sure to keep his potions of dubious volatility away from anything important, when Lore came to check up on him. Having had ample time to prepare, Lore wasn’t nearly as haggard as he tended to be around deadlines, though it seemed he wasn’t going to let that get in the way of his impatience.
“The train station is fifteen minutes away and our train leaves in an hour; why aren’t you ready yet?” Lore said, tapping his hoof on the ground.
“Almost done, just let me get this pack on...” Tristan replied, hefting his large packs onto his back with a grunt. “You sure we can’t just wear our armor on the way? It’s not that uncomfortable...”
“The last thing I want to do is have a rift spawn, harmless or not, walking through the streets of Canterlot armed and armored,” Lore responded, exasperated.
“Whatever...just let me check here...alchemy kit, backpack, bedroll, combat gear...yep, got everything. Alright, let’s get moving,” Tristan said, checking off the packs on his back.
With that the two left the room, finding Krik already outside. They made their way out of the castle, stepping into the fresh air of Canterlot. Tristan had the urge to wander off and see the city a little bit but knew such an idea was foolish, instead following Lore as he hastily brought them to the crowded train station.
“Noble should already be onboard; we’ve got the rear car to ourselves. Just keep your packs with you; we won’t have them checked with the civilians.” Lore instructed as they finally reached the station. The train was painted in several garishly bright colors, and surrounded by droves of ponies all waiting to board.
Lore led them around the crowd, which seemed a great deal more afraid of Krik than of Tristan, and to the rear car. Sure enough, Noble was waiting right outside it. He gave a small nod to Tristan as he caught his eye and then boarded, at which the others followed. The interior of the car was lined with what looked like crosses between benches and cushions, obviously meant for ponies to be able to sit naturally on.
Krik immediately took a seat, folding his long spindly legs beneath him and intently staring outside the window at the waiting ponies. Noble and Lore began a conversation about how things were going to happen, talking about provisions for the journey and the accommodations for the nights. Tristan had the urge to say something to Noble regarding Keen but couldn’t find a time to say it where it would seem natural, and so did the same as Krik.
The train started moving after a moderate wait, and Tristan watched as Canterlot slowly fell to the horizon. The whole time he kept thinking about whether or not he made the right decision agreeing to help, but he knew he was in too deep to bail out now. His continued self-affirmations that there was nothing that could really go wrong helped a bit, but didn’t wholly quell his misgivings that had developed after how well his last outing went. Noble and Lore finished their conversation and took their respective seats, neither looking like they were in the mood for conversation.
Tristan found himself lying on the cushion of his seat, nodding away. The gentle bumps of the train along the tracks were comforting, reminding him of his time among technology in his life before Equestria, and they slowly lulled him into a light slumber. He didn’t check what the others were doing, and he didn’t care; he just wanted to rest in peace before his next adventure.
A sharp jolt of the train woke Tristan from his slumber, his eyes groggily opening to see that the sun was almost ready to set. He yawned and stretched, sitting upright and looking outside the window. “Dang...I was out for a while, wasn’t I? These cushions are more comfortable than I thought...” he commented to no one in particular.
There was no response, and so he looked back to see Noble and Krik staring out of their own windows, while Lore slumbered peacefully. “Hey, Noble...” Tristan said quietly, looking over to him.
Noble turned his head to look at him, his expression stoic and unreadable. “I just wanted to say...y’know...sorry. I know you and Keen went way back, and it was defending me and Lore that-” Tristan began, only to be interrupted by Noble.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he began. “We knew what we were getting into, and we both volunteered. Sometimes...sometimes good ponies die. Just one of those facts of life. No sense beatin’ ourselves up over it,” he finished, sounding as if he had rehearsed the whole thing.
“Yeah, well...sorry all the same. He was a good pony,” Tristan responded. Noble regarded him for a moment before giving him a nod and turning back to his window. Tristan stared at Noble for a moment longer before letting out a sigh and turning back to his own.
Well, at least that’s over with...poor guy. I’m glad he’s not bitter or resentful or anything, but still...ah, well, he knows what he’s doing. Big guy like that doesn’t need anyone worrying about him.
The rest of the ride was in complete silence as they regarded the scenery outside, which had changed from green rolling hills to what looked like a savannah, with tall grass and dotted trees that looked nothing like the type he had seen previously. Towards nightfall the scenery gradually changed once more, as the trees became more and more numerous, until it looked like they were in the beginning of a tropical rainforest.
The train finally halted a short distance into the rainforest, coming to station in a small town cut into the forest. Noble woke Lore and they all got off, and Tristan noticed that there were only about five others leaving the train other than them.
Huh...we must have made some more stops when I was sleeping. Anyway, rainforest, should have guessed. I wonder if they have malaria here...if they do, and it’s called marelaria, something is going to get punched. I don’t know what, but something.
Lore issued out a few instructions and got the others following him, bringing them to a fairly large inn. He went inside to check their accommodations, eventually leading them all up to their respective rooms. The inn seemed to be completely empty save for the receptionist, who didn’t even glance up at them as they made their way through.
Tristan had a room to himself, and though he had been sleeping for hours already, found that he had little trouble getting right back to sleep. Thoughts of being gored by jaguars and crushed by elephants filled his mind as he drifted off once more into slumber.
Tristan awoke the next morning without prompting, finding that no matter how hard he attempted to go back to sleep he was unable. He eventually gave up and elected to stare outside the window and observe the scenery outside until the others called on him.
What I wouldn’t give for a computer with some games right now...or even a good book. Strange how often I end up being bored when this is really the most interesting time of my life so far...
The sun had not yet breached the horizon and the cloudless night overhead illuminated the forest around the town, though beneath the canopy of the trees little light strained through. He could faintly hear the sounds of all sorts of animals, from the chirping of birds, to the buzzing of insects, to a single roar in the distance that sounded like some great cat.
He stood there gazing through his window until the sun finally peeked over the horizon. As if on cue Lore opened Tristan’s door and called for him to get ready, which he did, putting on his armor this time.
Alright then, into the rainforest...this should be...fun. Bitten by thousands of insects, kept awake at night by a multitude of noises, and drenched by pouring rain. I can see why they’re building a railroad through this, screw nature.
After his morning routine he hefted his packs onto his back, groaning as its full weight strained his muscles. He joined the others breakfasting in the lobby, where the receptionist was still getting over the shock of having a giant ant creature and now what seemed to be a mostly hairless ape walking around like they belonged there. Little time was wasted and they were off quickly, with Lore consulting a map and leading them to a wide road cut through the forest.
The walk wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as what Tristan had envisioned, as there were far fewer insects than he had expected and it wasn’t currently raining. The road was well maintained, which seemed to be a miracle given the dense growth on either side of it, but Tristan just chalked it up to magic and thought little of it.
They passed few other travellers on the road, those being another small group and a long trading convoy. Tristan noted that his legs were taking the journey much better than any he had made previously, likely because of just how often he had been walking in recent weeks. The first day ended without any troubles, and they camped on the side of the road in a circular clearing that adjoined the path. The night was as loud as expected but Tristan was so exhausted from the trek that it hardly hampered his sleeping at all.
The next morning came with the threat of a storm. Dark clouds enveloped the horizon and slowly inched forward, though Lore insisted that they still needed to continue. While Lore had the responsibility for the group and Krik and Noble were both hardened warriors and so didn’t mind the rain, Tristan wanted nothing to do with it. That didn’t stop them from forcing him onwards, though.
“Dammit, we’re going to get drenched...why couldn’t we have gotten a carriage, or something? I mean, we’re sent on this mission by the princess, of all ponies...why don’t we have a bigger budget? It’s like when the hero of a game is tasked with saving all of existence or something, and shopkeepers still make him pay crazy amounts of money to buy necessary gear,” Tristan whined, the others all ignoring him as they continued onward. “Fine, be that way...but wait up a second, I need to go take care of some business,” he said, making sure the others halted before venturing off in the undergrowth in search of a place to relieve himself in private.
Off of the path the difference in ambiance was jarring. So little light got through the forest canopy that it gave the illusion of night, and the undergrowth of fungi and decaying plant matter made walking difficult. After attending to his business he made his way back to the path, when he noticed something odd. While he could still hear things in the distance, all of the sounds of the forest had silenced around him, which sent all his hairs on edge.
Shit, shit, shit! There’s like a jaguar or something just waiting to pounce on me, isn’t there? Just gotta take this nice and slowly...get back to the trail without making too much noise...c’mon Tristan, you can do this...
He tried to make as little noise as possible as he crept back to the path, not daring to look behind him for fear of seeing a predator. What surprised him was that the danger lay not in the forest, but on the path itself.
“Yeah, you heard me, drop the fucking hammer!” an unfamiliar shrill voice yelled from the direction of the others. “Yeah, good, you know what’s best for you...Swift! Get me that damn ring already!”
Tristan’s heart skipped a beat as he halted for a moment, listening in on what was happening. “But what about the ant thing, boss? I think it’s one of them spawns!” another voice said, somewhat gruffer and deeper than the other.
“You fucking idiot, Swift. Why the fuck would a rift spawn be travelling with ponies? And speaking gryphish, too? Actually...how do you all know gryphish, anyway?” the higher voice demanded.
“We’re simply a group of translators, we mean you no harm. Now if you could just take that knife away from my-” Lore’s voice answered, the distress badly hidden in his voice, before being cut off.
“Yeah, like fuck you are, bet you expect me to believe that guard is just a translator too? And that big...ant...thing? Swift, go get the cage, and don’t screw it up this time!” the higher voice shrieked, at which Lore fell silent. Tristan took the moment to get on his hands and knees and edge closer, keeping himself hidden from view.
He finally edged close enough to see what was happening, his head mostly inside of some undergrowth. A single creature, which he could gather was a gryphon, had Lore held with a wicked looking knife to his throat. Noble and Krik were both just standing side by side, with Noble’s hammer on the ground, looking on at the gryphon. The second unfamiliar voice wasn’t present, and a small metal ring of some sort was fitted securely over Lore’s horn.
Crap, what the Hell is going on? Looks like Lore is a hostage...what do those guys want with him? Looks like they don’t know about me, so I guess I could always get away...no, no that’s not an option. No way I’m going to abandon them out here to their fates. But what am I supposed to do?
A few moments passed in silence as the gryphon kept nervously shifting his gaze between Lore, Krik, and Noble. Neither Noble nor Krik dared to make a move, lest Lore’s neck be sliced. Eventually some noises could be heard in the bush on the opposite side of the path from Tristan and another gryphon, this one larger than the other, came through dragging a large cage on big treaded wheels.
“Hey, you didn’t mess anything up this time, good for you!” the smaller gryphon sarcastically remarked. “Alright, you two, into the cage! Nice and easy, no sudden movements, or your buddy here dies!”
The larger gryphon reached into a bag that hung on his waist and unlocked a heavy steel lock on the cage, and Noble and Krik just stood there for a moment. “Did I fucking stutter? Get in the cage!” the gryphon shouted, pressing the knife closer to Lore’s neck, eliciting a small whimper of pain and a drop of blood.
At that the two obliged, slowly clamoring into the cage. The smaller gryphon edged closer to the cage himself, until he threw Lore in at the exact moment as the other swung the door shut and immediately locked it. Krik didn’t waste any time lunging forward as Lore was flung into the cage, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to make his attack before the door was secured.
“Got some fight in you, huh? Well don’t even bother tryin’ to get out of that cage, that’s enchanted steel! Wasn’t cheap, but hey, you lot will fetch a pretty good price!” the leading gryphon snidely remarked. “Alright, back to camp, Swift, before any other travellers come by. Hurry it up!”
Swift grunted his agreement and hooked himself back onto a harness, pulling the cage through the thick undergrowth with little difficulty. The smaller gryphon look around for a moment, spat once on the ground, and followed the other into the forest.
Tristan waited a moment to see if either would come back, finally emerging at about the same time as the animals started up their racket once more. He checked where they went off into the forest and found that the cage made tracks that were incredibly easy to follow, and so knew that he would have no difficulty tracking them.
Ok, need a plan, need a plan...I know I can’t just fight those two on my own. There’s no way I could pickpocket the big one, and if I got caught trying they’d just kill me or throw me in with the others. That leaves only one option...
He took off his pack, rummaging around until he found his alchemy book. After flipping through the pages a good bit he found one potion that looked like it would suffice: a heavy sleeping draught.
Alright, pinch of blood moss, teaspoon of ground willow root, and one moon flower petal...let’s see here...
Further rummaging around in his alchemy pack produced the willow root and a dried moon flower petal, but it seemed he was out of blood moss. After checking his pack again to make absolutely sure, he went to the index of his book to look it up.
Hmm...”Blood moss is a hardy strain, growing in almost every area of the world. It is characterized primarily by its distinct color: a deep crimson, as blood. Common uses include...” Alright then, seems it’s common. Better keep an eye out, and if I don’t find it I’ll just have to think of something else.
Tristan grabbed Noble’s hammer from where it lay on the ground and placed it in his pack, took a deep breath, and trudged into the wilderness, following the obvious tracks made by the cage. He knew that there were all sorts of animals around him, some of which that may have been hostile, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about that too much with his friends in danger. His progress was slow twofold, as the undergrowth hampered his movement and he kept looking for the moss.
After a full half hour of walking he finally had a stroke of luck, spying a red amidst the green of the undergrowth, clinging to a tree. Sure enough, it matched the description of blood moss. He took out a vial of water and his alchemy equipment and carefully followed the instructions on the spot, mixing the liquid from a red, to a reddish brown, and finally to a crystal clear colorless liquid, as the book described. With his new potion in hand he continued his trek, still going quite slowly so that he wouldn’t be caught if he caught up to them.
It didn’t take long before he heard voices anew. Not far ahead of him was a clearing, with a small campsite housing the two gryphons and their cage. In the center of the camp, with two logs for sitting on either end, was a pot cooking over a fire. From the pot came the delicious scent of cooking meat, which Tristan hadn’t had the pleasure of smelling for far too long.
Neither the gryphons nor the captives noticed Tristan as he stealthily edged his way to the camp’s perimeter while lying prone. From that point he waited and watched, trying to find the perfect moment to slip the potion into something they were going to eat or drink. The gryphons talked little, usually only doing so to throw an insult or taunt to the captives, or to talk about plans for selling them.
Tristan’s legs were starting to go numb and he was contemplating just charging in when something finally happened. “Hey, there’s a monkey! Get it!” the smaller gryphon yelled to the larger, who stupidly gazed towards the ground. “No, in the trees you retard! Dammit, don’t let it get away, that could be our breakfast!”
The two gryphons lunged into the foliage, the smaller yelling out several more choice swears as they gave chase to their prospective meal. Tristan jumped at the opportunity, literally, and ran to the cooking pot. He made sure to shush the others with a finger over his mouth, lest they give him away, and poured the entire contents of his vial into the stew. He then ran back to his hiding space and hunkered back down to wait.
It didn’t take long for the gryphons to return, the smaller chewing out the bigger for apparently making him lose their quarry. They argued for a while before eventually drawing up some stew from the pot and sitting down to eat it. Tristan watched with anticipation as they greedily downed their bowls, hardly pausing to taste their food. Within a minute they were both unconscious.
Tristan waited a moment to see if they would quickly recover, warily emerging from his hiding place when they didn’t. He came to the larger who had fallen asleep on his pack and drew his sword, making sure he would be ready to kill the gryphon if he woke up when Tristan moved him. He didn’t, however, and Tristan produced the key from the small bag.
“What was that you used? Are they just asleep?” Lore inquired from the cage.
“Yeah, sleeping potion from that book you gave me. Here, let me let you out...” Tristan responded, going to the cage and unlocking it, freeing the others.
“You did well,” Noble commented, clapping Tristan on his back after he got out.
“Thanks, oh, and I believe this is yours,” Tristan replied, producing Noble’s hammer from his pack. “Figured you might-” he said, stopping as he heard gurgling coming from behind him. He whirled around, having no idea what to expect, and found Krik with his stinger still in the neck of the larger gryphon, and a small pool of blood forming around the neck of the smaller.
“Woah, Krik, what the Hell?” Tristan cried out in surprise.
“What?” Krik returned, sounding like he genuinely didn’t know what Tristan meant.
“You just...killed them!” Tristan clarified, somewhat disgusted at the now somewhat large pool of blood.
“I get doing that if there was no alternative but...we did have a cage for them,” Noble added neutrally.
“If you expect me to allow those who imprison me in such a way to live, perhaps we should simply part ways,” Krik replied indignantly.
“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just...well, it doesn’t matter. The deed is done, and the forest will take care of the rest,” Lore chimed in.
After staring awkwardly at Krik for a moment longer Tristan looted the camp and the gryphons. Most of the things they had were of no use to him, except for a large money pouch overflowing with gold coins.
“Hey...Lore...since I saved you guys and all, I get to keep whatever I loot here, right?” Tristan slowly asked, unable to keep a grin off his face despite the deaths he just witnessed.
“I suppose we owe you that much at least, yes. Why? Did you find something?” Lore responded casually.
Tristan showed him the large bag of coins, at which Lore’s jaw literally dropped. “That’s...that’s a lot of money! They had all that on them?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, how much could this buy me?” Tristan asked, giddy.
Lore didn’t answer, going over to the smaller gryphon and producing a small metal rod from the gryphon’s pack, which he tapped to the ring on his horn. The ring split in two and fell off, and Lore grabbed the coin bag with his magic and hefted it up.
“My, this really is a lot...you could buy yourself a small house with this in Canterlot! If you went with a smaller town, you might even be able to afford a large one!” Lore exclaimed, placing the pouch pack in Tristan’s waiting hand.
“A house? Are you serious? If I hadn’t just been instrumental in the deaths of two sentient beings this would be one of the best days I’ve ever had!” Tristan said happily. “I was about due for some good luck, wasn’t I?”
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.
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.”
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.
“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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
“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.
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.
Tristan yelled out, attempting to run away from the voice that came from the bushes, vaguely recalling that he had reason to fear strange voices. Before he could get away, however, a blue magical aura enveloped him and held him fast, despite his struggles. Daring a look over his shoulder, Tristan saw not a faceless malevolent entity, but an alicorn that looked much like Celestia. Instead of white she was a dark blue, though her mane flowed in the same manner as Celestia’s, and she was adorned in similar attire. Tristan didn’t know whether to fear her or be thankful that she wasn’t some monstrosity.
“Please, stop! I wish you no harm,” she said in a calm voice, unlike Celestia’s in that it betrayed some emotion. “I am Luna, Princess of the Night, and Warden of Dreams.”
Tristan stopped struggling and was released from the aura, regaining control over his limbs. “...Warden of dreams?” he mused. “That’s right, I’m in Equestria, not home...”
As he spoke the world slowly dissolved away around him, and he found himself standing with Luna in an endless white empty expanse. Lucidity suddenly hit him and his thoughts cleared from the haze he hadn’t known they were in, as the memories of his time in Equestria suddenly returned. “Wait, what?” he asked to no one in particular.
“My apologies if I startled you,” Luna said, slowly trotting over to where Tristan stood. “I was simply excited to meet you; I have wished to do so for some time now.”
Tristan jerked his head her way, remembering that she was there. “Luna! I know you! You’re the one Lore told me about, that almost killed the sun!” he exclaimed. “But now you’re ruling with Celestia and oh crap I forgot to bow.”
With that Tristan immediately descended into an awkward bow, hoping that she wouldn’t punish him for his lack of decorum. “Nay, rise! Please, feel at ease! I come here in friendship, nothing more,” Luna quickly said, at which Tristan slowly rose. “Please, do not fear me, I simply wish to speak with you.”
“Oh, err, sure, whatever you’d like,” Tristan said awkwardly. “Uhm, what about? And why are you...y’know...here?”
“My purpose here is threefold: to affirm your connection to the magical field, to learn of your land, and to introduce myself,” Luna began. “As ruler of the night the domain of dreams falls under my purview, and I often walk among my slumbering subjects to ensure their rest is calm. I have not been able to do such with you, for you were outside my influence with your disconnection from the field. Was there anything else you wished to ask of me?”
“You’re awfully casual,” Tristan blurted out, eliciting a small giggle from Luna. “Wait, ah, I don’t mean that’s bad! Just that you’re royal and-” he was cut off by Luna’s speech.
“I take no offense, Tristan. My sister may need to adhere to the formalities of old, icon as she has become, but I can allow myself some flexibility. It is rather liberating, in truth, to be lesser known in this time. I did have some difficulties abandoning the old ways, once, but I have long since adapted.”
“Good to know...” Tristan commented, becoming somewhat more relaxed around her. “So, just to confirm, this is a dream here, right?” Luna nodded. “Uh huh. Well, that’s...that’s pretty awesome, actually! So that means I can pretty much control reality, right? Though...you don’t, y’know, visit every dream, do you?...”
“If you fear for your privacy do not fret; I have seen it all many times before,” Luna responded.
“That sure makes me comfortable...” Tristan muttered dryly beneath his breath. “Right, well, you came here for a reason, so I had better shut up and let you get to it!” he sat down on a cushy armchair behind him, which he had expected to be there, and so it was.
“Excellent! I have wished to speak with you for some time now,” Luna exclaimed, sitting down on a lush pillow that similarly materialized from nothingness. “We had decided that it was best for you to only see one princess for a time, lest we overwhelm you too early.”
“Well I’m here now, so talk away!” Tristan said, now swirling a glass goblet of Mt. Dew in his hand, and noting that he really needed to get back to practicing lucid dreaming to do this more often.
“I have read all of Virgin Lore’s reports on you thus far, and have found them fascinating. Could you tell me more of your world? Or better yet, show me?” Luna asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.
“Uh, sure? Like what?” Tristan responded. He wasn’t sure of if he wanted to show her wars and the like, but he supposed he’d have to if asked.
“May I see your home? The one you once lived in? I understand the technology your race has created far surpasses our own, at least non-magically,” Luna said, looking expectantly at Tristan.
Tristan gave a nod and closed his eyes, envisioning his home. When he opened them he saw his house in front of him, exactly as he remembered it. The walkway up to the front door was the same, the same plants lined the yard, and everything brought memories flooding back. He fought back the emotion, doing his best to remain stoic in the face of what he lost.
“Do you need a moment?” Luna asked understandingly. Tristan merely shook his head and motioned for her to follow him up the walkway and into the house. He opened the door, finding himself in the living room. It was always a bit of a mess, so it was no surprise to him that it still was, even in dream form. Luna practically bounced inside, scrutinizing every object.
Tristan walked around in a slight daze, running his fingers over his old furniture. He was amazed at how real it felt, a testament to how well his memories had captured his home. After a moment he became aware that Luna had asked him something, but he didn’t quite catch what. Emotions bubbled up inside him as he remembered Christmases in this very room, his family spending time together, the relief of coming home after an arduous day at school...
“Tristan? Are you sure you are well?” Luna queried, sympathy written across her face. Before Tristan could rebuff her again, she continued. “I understand what it’s like, you know. I was trapped for a millennia, during which time every pony I knew, save for Celestia, perished. I may have returned to Equestria, but it was not my Equestria.”
“At least you have one person left, though!” Tristan suddenly cried out, the emotions he was suppressing bursting forth. “I have nothing! All of my friends, all of my family, my house, my city, the degree I was working so hard for...gone!”
Tristan flopped down on the couch nearby, attempting to calm himself but failing. “And you know what? I think it’s worse not knowing if I’ll be able to get home! At least if I knew I was stuck in Equestria, I could just move on, get some closure, you know? But I can’t even get that!” he finished, cradling his face in his hands.
Luna let him calm down for a moment, looking on to him in pity. “If you wish for me to leave you now, I will,” she finally said. Tristan slowly wiped his hands down his face, composing himself as best he could.
“No, no...sorry,” he said, sniffing. “I don’t know what brought that on...”
“You are both close to the memories of your home now, and fully lucid to comprehend it. There is no shame in sorrow,” Luna advised.
“Just...just don’t tell Lore or anyone, alright? I can’t have them thinking I’m some kinda sap,” Tristan said, rising from the couch and clapping his hands together once. “Okay, moving on!” he exclaimed in a sudden change of demeanor. “I believe we had a tour to do, yes?”
“Let’s see...I can show you some of the rooms this way...” Tristan said, moving towards the hallway. As he walked by he passed a mirror that hung from the wall, and chanced a look at it. Inside it, he saw himself, yet twisted. His eyes were gone, replaced with the black holes of a skull on his gaunt face. His teeth were rotted and jagged, and his hair hung in ragged strands from his blistering scalp. The grotesque reflection mirrored his movements as though it was his true reflection, though the moment he stopped and comprehended it the image continued to move of its own accord. Immediately he screamed, falling backwards from the mirror.
“What is it?” Luna questioned, instinctively dropping down into a slightly defensive position.
“M-mirror, demon crap, wh-what the Hell was that?” Tristan asked shakily, attempting to calm himself, remembering he was in no danger, as it was only a dream.
“Oh, is that all?” Luna queried, sounding relieved. “You would be wise to avoid mirrors in the dreamscape. They can often show frightening things.”
“Damn, well I wish I knew that!” Tristan said, annoyed. “This crap is going to take some getting used to...”
With that the two of them toured through Tristan’s house, the uncomfortable business behind them for now, as he narrated to her about the various fixtures: from the television, to the dishwasher, to the computer. Though he didn’t know nearly enough about the precise workings of any of those Luna still seemed thrilled to hear about what he knew.
After a long nostalgic tour through his home, they wound up outside again. The whole ordeal had been somewhat painful for Tristan, though in an almost bittersweet sort of way. While he knew getting back to his home in reality was still an unknown, remembering parts of his life before his current troubles was somewhat comforting.
“Thank you for being such a gracious host, Tristan,” Luna said as Tristan sat down on a chair in front of his house. “Your life prior to Equestria was certainly fascinating; the things you could do with electricity are amazing indeed!”
“Yeah...” Tristan responded halfheartedly. “Hey, if you don’t mind, could I ask you a question?” he suddenly broached, looking at her with a serious expression on his face.
“Of course! It would be my pleasure,” Luna answered warmly.
“It’s about you and your sister. I never really had the chance to ask Celestia, and Lore never told me enough. The two of you seem nice, really nice for royalty. How was it that you just let so many rift spawn get slaughtered, even when there was no evidence that some of them were hostile? I certainly wasn’t hostile when I met that guard for the first time,” Tristan asked, the question having been on his mind for a while.
“That is...an uncomfortable subject...” Luna replied in a somber tone. “In truth, I was not initially for such a policy, yet my sister swayed me. During the initial quelling of the spawn I had great doubts and regrets about my decision, yet I trusted in my sister’s judgement on the matter.”
“Knowing what I know now, I believe the decision was the right one. Once mighty nations like Zebrica were brought to their knees when they failed to take adequate measures against the spawn, yet Equestria has largely been able to retain its way of life. The fate of the spawn is pitiable, yes, and it is terrible that things must be so, but...” she trailed off, faltering slightly under Tristan’s scrutinizing gaze.
“...But it had to be done, for the greater good?” Tristan finished her sentence. At Luna’s sorrowful look he continued. “Don’t worry, I get it. From an objective point of view, the logic was sound and the decision was correct. It takes some real strength to make choices like that. Usually, people can’t see how much stands to be lost by short term thinking.”
“That is true,” Luna replied. “Yet at the same time we must not harden our hearts to the point of forgetting the plight of those that suffer.”
“Yeah...alright, well, this is getting a little heavy,” Tristan said, standing back up. “I think that’s about enough of that for now.”
“Indeed. But before we move on, I feel I must ask...do you forgive us? While you are not without blame, we threw the first stone. Being one of the ones that was made to suffer, can you pardon what was done?” Luna asked, staring Tristan directly in the eyes.
“Oh, uh, of course!” Tristan said uncomfortably. “I just said I saw it from your point of view, didn’t I? My stance on the issue wouldn’t change just because I was involved in it.”
“Oh, joyous night!” Luna exclaimed, suddenly rushing up to Tristan and locking him in a hug. “We thank thee for thine forgiveness!” she said, before suddenly letting him go and backing up, looking embarrassed. “We - I mean, thank you, Tristan.”
Tristan steadied himself, immensely uncomfortable with the sudden physical contact. “Uh, you’re welcome?” he said uneasily. “That was really getting to you, wasn’t it?”
Luna nodded, blushing slightly. “It was the hardest decision I have made since my return, and has weighed heavily upon my thoughts for some time now. Your forgiveness brings great relief.”
“Well, glad I could help. Anyway, if I’m not possessed or anything anymore, I think I have a few things to talk about with Lore. How do I...y’know...leave?” Tristan asked, looking around as if for an exit.
“I believe I can assist with that,” Luna said. “Thank you for this meeting, Tristan. I look forward to our next.”
With that the world turned blindingly white, and Tristan woke with a start, finding himself still tied up in his room. Krik slumbered peacefully beside his bed, oblivious to his awakening.
Before he could wake Krik, the door opened, revealing Lore, who trotted up to Tristan. “I just got word that Luna was able to reach your dreams, so you should be alright!” he exclaimed, waiting for Tristan to speak before untying him.
“Yeah, I met her. Could you get these off me, please?” Tristan asked, at which Lore complied. Freed of his ropes, Tristan stood and massaged the areas where they had bound him, finding himself quite sore. “Damn, that feels nice...” he said airily.
“We need to talk,” Tristan beat Lore to speech, addressing him in a suddenly serious tone. “This,” he began, motioning over his body. “Has got to stop. No more adventures, no more stabbing, no more poison, no more crap. Alright?”
Lore looked at him, somewhat surprised. “So, you don’t want to work with me, or the princesses, again?” he said, sounding almost hurt.
“Not if it means going into forbidden forests, hostile refugee camps, dark jungles, outside...” Tristan said, counting off on his fingers. “If you want to chat with me, sure. If you want to run a noninvasive test or two, sure. But if you want me to do anything that requires me to put on armor, no go.”
“Ah, that’s all?” Lore said, looking relieved. “I was going to speak against any more of that stuff, myself! You’re not exactly lucky, after all.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Tristan responded in mock indignation. “Glad we’re on the same page, though.”
“What of me, then?” a voice suddenly rang out from behind them, as Krik unfurled his legs. “I refuse to give up my quest of returning to my queen.”
“No, no, we’re still working on that! We’ll just try to do it in a bit less dangerous way,” Lore hastily defended. “There are many things you could do here to help us further research on the rifts.”
“Very well then,” Krik replied, apparently satisfied. He then looked to Tristan, eying his unbound state. “It is good to see you have recovered so promptly, Tristan. I wish you well.” With that, he left the room swiftly.
“Uhh, thanks...” Tristan said, after Krik had already left. “Err, where were we?”
“You were telling me that you didn’t want to be hospitalized again,” Lore deadpanned.
“Oh, right! Yeah, no more of that crap. I just want to live a nice, peaceful life, without getting mauled to death by something,” Tristan deadpanned back.
“I suppose you’ll need to speak to the princess, then. It would be better for you to tell her. But for now, you should get back to bed. We’ll speak more in the morning,” Lore responded, letting a yawn escape. “I believe we could both use the rest.”
“Mmm...yeah, that does sound pretty nice,” Tristan said, seeing that it was still night outside and running his fingers over the soft bed sheets. “Alright, we’ll talk more tomorrow. ‘Night!”
With that he flopped backwards onto his bed, immediately throwing the sheets over himself. Lore gave a small smirk and a nod, bidding Tristan goodnight and leaving.
So that’s it, then...no more crazy adventures, no more creepy voice, no more counting tiles in the hospital. I wonder what I’ll do instead...
Tristan fell asleep easily, and slept dreamlessly.
Tristan awoke slowly, enjoying the fact that he could now take things more easily. For some time he simply lay in bed, basking in the calm of the room and the softness of the sheets. His reverie was eventually interrupted by Lore, who casually trotted into the room.
“Are you awake?” Lore asked, noticing Tristan was completely entombed within his sheets. At a grunt from Tristan he continued. “I’ve managed to arrange an audience with the princess about your new arrangements. We should be going fairly soon, so please get yourself ready.”
Tristan gave a few more mumbles, having found himself close to sleep once more, and violently thrust his sheets off of himself. Rubbing his eyes blearily, he made his way to the restroom, not bothering to even glance at Lore. Once he was done he exited, a good deal more refreshed and energized, to find Lore waiting for him.
The two left, navigating their way through the winding passages to the throne room. Unlike previous audiences, it seemed Celestia did not feel the need to meet with him privately, so he was simply sent to the front of the line of ponies and zebras that were waiting their turns. It gained him a few glares, but he had a hard time feeling bad about not waiting.
Inside the throne room was as regal and magnificent as ever, with Celestia flanked by several guards. Despite the seriousness and pretence she smiled warmly, beckoning them to come.
“It is good to see you well, Tristan. I understand you wished to speak with me?” Celestia asked warmly.
“Yes, I did, your highness,” Tristan began, remembering his manners and giving a bow, by now comfortable with the idea of meeting with royalty. “I just wanted to say: I’ve had enough. Things have been too stressful, dangerous, and overall terrible. I’d just like to settle down, make a honest living somehow, and stay out of danger. You said I’d be free to leave if I wanted to after the first time I helped you, so after two times it shouldn’t be any sort of a problem, right?”
Celestia didn’t take much time to respond. “Yes, you are free to do as you will. Do not think that I have not noticed all of your sacrifices, Tristan. You have already done more for Equestria than most citizens ever will within their lifetimes, risking life and limb not once, but twice.”
Awesome! So that means I’m really off the hook, I’m free! And no strings attached, by the sounds of it. These princesses really aren’t bad.
“Furthermore,” Celestia continued. “As compensation for your extra troubles in Zebrica, and in the interest of your continued stay in Canterlot, I have an offer for you. I understand that you have great interest in alchemy, and you recently acquired a large sum of bits during your travels, correct?”
“Err, yes, that’s correct...” Tristan responded, uncertain of where she was going.
“Then I shall personally match any sum you spend on a residence or shop in Canterlot with my own private funds, as thanks. Do you find that agreeable?” Celestia said genially.
Tristan stood in silence for a moment as the information sunk into his brain. After a few seconds Lore gave him a nudge, spurring him to speech. “U-uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds...that sounds good! Good! Thanks!” he sputtered.
Celestia gave a knowing smile and addressed Lore. “I trust that you will be able to help him with this?”
“Yes, your highness!” Lore responded, managing to keep his composure nearly perfectly.
“Very well then. Take this scroll as proof of what I said. It should be enough for the good ponies that handle the deeds to work with,” she said, levitating a scroll she had next to her over to Lore, who accepted it. Tristan thought it was odd that she had such a thing already prepared; she must have known about this. “If that is all, there are many things I must attend to today. Zebrica, citizens, you know.”
“Yes, we’ll be right off!” Lore said, immediately pushing the still dazed Tristan along.
“Thanks again, your highness!” Tristan managed to yell as they were leaving, before being shoved through the door by Lore. He immediately wanted to talk about what she said to Lore, but seeing the still hostile glares of those waiting in line, opted instead to wait until they were a bit away.
“Can you believe it? You said that money was a lot before, and now its doubled?” he said excitedly, almost giggling.
Lore gave him a serious look, before softening it. “Yes, it was very generous of her. You should be very thankful for all that she’s doing for you.”
“I am, I am, but I did have something like this coming, didn’t I? I mean, I almost died three times because of her,” Tristan responded, as Lore led them through the halls. Lore didn’t reply, and they eventually made their way to a relatively large office, where several mares fiddled with documents of all sorts. Upon their arrival the work stopped, as every one of them gawked at Tristan.
Lore cleared his throat loudly, at which they all went back to work, pretending nothing had happened, save for one mare who trotted over to greet them. “How may I help you...gentlecolts?” she said, scrutinizing Tristan.
“We’re interested in buying some property. Furthermore...” Lore said, levitating the scroll over to the mare. She read it, her eyes widening at the end, and then nodded her head vigorously.
“But of course! Did you have something in mind?” she asked.
Lore looked to Tristan, who realized he needed to say something. “Err, no, not really. We just came right here from our meeting with the princess, so I don’t know what I want yet.”
“Not a problem!” the mare said, trotting behind her desk to rummage around and bringing them back a scroll. “This map has pretty recent listings of everything that’s for sale across Canterlot. There’s not many spare houses, and I expect most of them to be sold when those zebras get worked out, so you had better get one quickly!”
Tristan unfurled the scroll, seeing a basic looking map with red crosses over several buildings dotted all over the city, with annotations of their price and zoning. “This looks perfect, thanks!” he said, giving the mare as thankful of a smile as he could muster.
“My pleasure. Was there anything else?” she asked. The two responded negatory, and she bid them farewell. With that they left the office and once more began navigating the halls.
“So, what will it be?” Lore asked, looking over to Tristan who was poring over the map.
“Hell if I know,” he answered, handing the map over to Lore. “I was thinking about setting up a shop for alchemy, but I need somewhere to live too. Know if any of those shops for sale have a place to live upstairs?”
Lore scrutinized the map as they walked, somehow still leading Tristan in what he hoped was the right direction. Before long they found themselves at the entrance of the castle, with the streets of Canterlot splayed out before them.
“There’s only one listing here that matches your price range and has both a shop and residence integrated, but there’s a few that are just shops that might work. You could always stay in your room at the castle, you know,” Lore said as they started off down the main road.
“I suppose that could work, but I’ve always wanted a place of my own. Let’s check out that one, and if it’s really terrible, perhaps we’ll look at the others,” Tristan said. Lore nodded and gave a cursory glance at the map before leading him further down the main street, to the primary market district.
Though he was getting much of the same reception as before, with ponies generally being either haughty or intimidated, Tristan didn’t really mind it much anymore. He wondered if it was just because he had been going through so much that such minor trivialities didn’t even register any more, or because he had simply stopped caring and come to accept it as normality. Eventually they got to the far outskirts of the market district, away from the primary hustle and bustle of the street, to an unassuming two story shop with a for sale sign on the front of it.
“This is it!” Lore announced, as they both analyzed the building. It had a large glass window on the front of it, which had become somewhat dirty without upkeep, walls of the same white stone that was so popular around Canterlot, and a single smaller window on the second story. Tristan could barely make out a place where a sign was once attached to the wall; but it was there no longer.
“Shall we take a look inside?” Lore asked, trotting up to the door.
“Don’t we need to get the key for it first? Or a real estate agent or something?” Tristan asked, not yet following Lore.
“Why would we need to do that? It shouldn’t be locked,” Lore said, bemused.
“Well that’s just asking for squatters and looters...” Tristan mumbled beneath his breath, though he followed Lore inside. The first thing that Tristan noticed were the rows of shelves that lined the walls. He didn’t know what they had been used for before, but they were spaced about a foot or so apart from each other vertically, which he thought was perfect for potions. Other than that there was a large counter, a door behind the counter leading into another room, and stairs leading to the second floor. As they proceeded Tristan noted that there was a thin layer of dust over everything, though it didn’t look like it would be too hard to clean off.
The second floor was large and open, with only one separate room. There was no furniture save for a stove and sink in the corner which was apparently meant to be the kitchen area, and the only light came from the small window, casting dark shadows over the corners of the room. The separate room turned out to be a small restroom, with a basic tub, sink, and toilet.
Damn, I miss normal toilets...I wonder how much they would cost to make custom? Don’t any of the other races sit normal?”
“So...what do you think?” Lore asked, coughing a bit from the dust.
“Not bad, I suppose. A bit musty, and kinda bland, but not bad. It would have been nice to get something a bit closer to the main marketplace, but I suppose this will be better for getting to sleep without the noise anyway. You said this was within my price range?” Tristan asked.
“Yes, and you should have enough to spare. It’s seven thousand bits, and you have roughly five thousand. If the princess is matching what you spend, that’ll be three and a half thousand for your half, and one and a half left over. More than enough to get this place furnished and purchase the necessities,” Lore replied.
“Well what’s the point in waiting, then? Let’s get it!” Tristan said, already excited.
“What? Don’t you want to look at the other places?” Lore asked.
“No,” Tristan responded, already making his way down the stairs.
“But you might...” Lore began before stopping himself. “Fine. I suppose it’s not too bad of a place.”
The two made their way directly back to the office they got their information from, as Tristan’s excitement steadily grew. The thought that he might have a place of his own, to do as he wished whenever he wished, was amazing to him. By the time they paid for the place and were given the deed and key he was practically giddy. That giddiness began to fail, however, when he realized that they were going to have to buy every bit of furniture he would need all at once. With Lore guiding him to the shops he’d need to buy from, they got to it.
Hours later, all of the furniture was bought and either moved to his new home or scheduled to be shipped soon, and all of his things from the castle had been moved to his new home. He was even able to find some old alchemy equipment in a curio shop, and had ordered a much nicer set from a specialty company in Manehattan. Finally, he bought a variety of different basic ingredients that he knew he’d need for alchemy in relative bulk, and brought it all back to the store. Having seen to all of Tristan’s settling in, Lore was finally ready to bid him farewell.
“So you’ll be alright to stay here on your own tonight?” Lore asked, noting the slowly setting sun outside.
“I don’t see why not. I’ve got a bed, working plumbing, a crazy fridge that runs off magic...what more do I need?” Tristan responded, gazing upon his sparsely furnished new home.
“I suppose that’s the basics of it,” Lore answered with a shrug. "Very well then, I’ll be off. Stop by the castle any time you’d like, and I’ll be by from time to time to check up on you,” Lore finished, looking hesitant to leave.
As he turned to leave, Tristan spoke up. “Hey, Lore?” Tristan said, at which Lore looked up at him. “Thanks. I really do appreciate all of this help. You may be an ass at times, but you’re a pretty cool guy.”
Lore looked like he was about to answer, but the words died within his throat. “My pleasure...well, goodnight, then!” he finally responded, leaving immediately after.
Well, that’s it then. On my own. Nobody to tell me what to do, nobody to worry about but myself, complete and total freedom. But the question is...what am I going to do with it?
With that Tristan locked the door, went upstairs, and clambered into his new king size bed, which was more like an extra wide twin for him. The sounds of the city never truly died down outside, and after a bout from a screeching cat, he drifted off to sleep.
The morning dawned noisily, to the sound of two stallions yelling at each other about something directly outside of his shop. With a luxurious yawn he hoisted himself up and began to walk, scratching himself and reaching for the knob to the restroom, but finding only wall. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, confused, he realized he was no longer in his old room, but his new one. Thankful that none had seen his mistake, he made his way to the restroom and began the day.
His belly rumbling and pockets full of about half of his remaining five hundred bits, he decided to check out the city a bit for himself. As he left the store he breathed in deeply, intending to invigorate himself for the day. Instead, he got a whiff of a full garbage can from the shop neighboring him, and had to stifle a gag. Ponies nearby gave him odd looks, but he figured they were doing that before anyway, so it didn’t really matter. With that, he was off.
Without a map he aimlessly wandered, keeping to the more busy streets so that he wouldn’t get too lost. He had never been much for people watching, but found himself fascinated at the interactions of the ponies all around him. There was always something happening, regardless of where he went. Whether it was a particularly vocal merchant hawking their wares, a theater advertizing its next show, or a troupe of street performers.
Eventually he came across a shop that was displaying wares he knew very well - candy. He immediately rushed inside, to see mountains upon mountains of the stuff in every form imaginable displayed all over. Fighting the urge to gawk, and remembering his money wouldn’t last forever, he picked out a bag and filled it with all sorts of confections. To the shopkeeper's merit, he didn’t seem frightened of Tristan at all. Musing that he was having candy for breakfast, Tristan made his way back outside.
Well, I’m not going to get much done if I’m just wandering aimlessly...even if it did get me some sweets. It’s strange not having Lore here, guiding me and telling me what to do. Not that I became dependent on him, or anything...
Resolving to just ask a random pony about points of interest, he picked out one of the less pompous looking stallions nearby and attempted to strike up a conversation in the only way he knew how.
“Hey there...nice weather we’re having?” he asked, at which the pony just gawked at him. “Ehehehe...hi?” Tristan ventured awkwardly, rapidly regretting approaching a stranger.
“H-hello,” the pony said uncertainly, scanning the crowd as if searching for an escape route.
“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you or anything!” Tristan exclaimed, catching on to the pony’s discomfort. “I’m just looking around, seeing the sights a bit, but I don’t know where I should go. Do you have any suggestions?”
The pony seemed at a loss of what to say, just staring at Tristan for a moment as if he was wishing he would go away. Tristan noticed some ponies were looking their way, and a few other stallions had stopped themselves and were intently watching how things turned out. After some time the stallion worked up the courage to speak.
“You could try...the statue garden, maybe?” he said, sounding downright hopeful with the questioning tone in his voice. Tristan merely sighed, growing annoyed with the situation.
“Sure. That sounds great. Want to point me the way?” Tristan asked, trying to keep a polite tone of voice.
“It’s right by the castle, you can’t miss it,” the pony ventured.
“Alright, well I know my way there. Thanks for the info,” Tristan said, trying to put on a nice looking smile for the pony. When the stallion failed to respond, he merely sighed a second time and walked off in the direction of the castle, not even bothering to look back at what became of the pony.
I didn’t do a damn thing to scare him, and there were ponies all around us! I dunno...maybe he was just a coward. That shopkeep didn’t seem to mind me. Still, if enough ponies are like that, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep a shop of my own running. I’d have to move back into the castle! It’d be just like having to move back in with my parents after leaving...how humiliating.
Before long he arrived at the castle, seeing the entrance to the statue garden along the side opposite where he had his room. None of the guards paid him any notice, neither hindering nor helping him, and he just walked right in.
Inside were statues of all imaginable shapes and sizes, most with polished plaques describing who or what they commemorated. Every single one was in pristine condition. Impressed, but not necessarily entertained, Tristan slowly strolled through the garden. Several times he read something interesting, or thought up what he thought was a particularly witty joke, and almost commented before realizing he was alone. Soon, the quiet that was relaxing was getting a bit lonesome, and he made his way back out.
Nice place, I guess, but it’s getting boring by myself. I’m going to run out of things to do real soon if I don’t make some friends or start up a hobby of some sort. It's kind of funny, now that I think about it. I get thrown into another world, filled with adventure and mystery, and here I am, trying to open up a shop instead of exploring. Yet, I have the feeling I wouldn't last much longer if I kept that stuff up. My luck can't hold forever, and I've had enough close calls...but eh, what's done is done; for now I’m just going to keep on relaxing.
Now somewhat melancholy, Tristan made his way back down the busy streets, the aversion of the ponies around him now getting to him a little bit. He felt like an outsider, and while he knew he was, he wished it wasn’t so.
“Tristan? Tristan!” a familiar feminine voice rang out, coming from a nearby outdoor cafe. Spurred out of his musings, Tristan looked over to see Nightingale, sans her nurse hat, sitting at a table with two other mares, waving at him. “Over here!” she cried, beckoning him forward.
Not wishing to be rude, Tristan complied, walking over to where she and the other two mares sat at a table. “Girls, this is Tristan!” Nightingale said, motioning to Tristan.
“Yes, I do believe I caught that one, he’s not hard to miss. Name’s Thunder Muffin, nice to meet you,” one of the mares, who had a light brown coat and yellow mane, said amicably. Tristan noticed her cutie mark seemed to be of a muffin, but with lightning bolts coming out of it for some reason.
“Thunder Muffin?” Tristan asked in nigh-disbelief. At a look from Nightingale he immediately backtracked. “Oh, yes, Thunder Muffin! Lovely name! Nice to meet you!” he said. She didn’t seem to mind his original greeting, and gave him a smile.
“Yes, Nightingale has told us all sorts of things about you” Muffin said, giving Tristan a look that he couldn’t place.
“Well don’t be shy, dearie, come sit with us!” Nightingale said, motioning to a free seat at their table. “Oh, and this is Ruby Shine,” she motioned over to the other mare, this one with a deep red coat and light red mane. Her cutie mark was of a gold ring covered in shining rubies.
“Charmed,” Ruby said in the somewhat posh accent that was so prevalent in Canterlot, looking at Tristan with still judging, yet not hostile, eyes.
“Err, likewise,” Tristan said, awkwardly sitting down among the trio. “It’s nice to see you again, Nightingale,” he commented, happy to see a face that wasn’t just neutral, but friendly.
“The pleasure is all mine! I sure didn’t expect to see you out of the castle though, I must admit. What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?” Nightingale asked.
“I guess you haven’t been talking with Lore, have you?” Tristan questioned, which she confirmed. “Well, it just so happens I moved out of the castle! I just got my own place yesterday, and I’m going to be setting up a shop!”
“That’s wonderful! What will you be selling?” Nightingale asked enthusiastically.
“Oh, an entrepreneurial stallion, how robust,” Muffin added in, still looking at Tristan in a strange way.
“Oh, uh...it’s alchemy stuff. I figured it’s something I’m good at, I find it interesting, and it seems like it should be easy enough to produce things to sell, so it seemed perfect,” Tristan responded.
“I don’t recall having ever heard of someone setting up an alchemy store before. That is the craft dealing with the creation of potions and elixirs, correct?” Ruby asked.
“Right. It lets me mimic the effects of a lot of spells, in an easy to carry and apply liquid form,” Tristan answered, feeling a bit like a salesman already.
“We use potions and salves made from alchemy all the time in medicine,” Nightingale said to her friend. “Though, we got most of our supplies from Zebrica. I don’t know what will happen now...”
“I’m sure some ponies will fill that void in the market, so long as there’s money to be made,” Tristan said. “But I hope I’ll be established before that.”
“Well I’ll be sure to stop by and check out some of your wares. I’d love to see what sort of magic you could cook up,” Muffin added.
“Well I’m sure I could use all the business I could get, Thunder Muffin. Thanks,” Tristan said, giving the semi-forced smile that he was getting better at everyday to her.
“Please, you can just call me...Muffin,” she said, putting a strange amount of emphasis on the name.
“Alright...” Tristan responded uncomfortably. “Anyways, I’ll leave you three to your lunch, I don’t want to intrude.”
“Nonsense, nonsense! You simply must stay! Ruby here was treating us to lunch, I don’t think she’ll mind one more, will you dear?” Muffin said, looking over to Ruby.
“It would be my pleasure,” Ruby said, to which Tristan immediately began to protest. “No, no, I insist. I understand you have some stories to tell, though, so count that as your contribution!” she said firmly.
“Alright, well thanks, I appreciate it,” Tristan relented. “You know, you two are pretty nice; some ponies are still terrified of me...”
“Don’t you worry yourself about them, dearie!” Nightingale said. “When the word spread that you were going to be walking about Canterlot a lot of ponies were worried, since they’d heard so much about nasty rift spawn. But Celestia vouched for you personally!”
“That was all it took for me to assure me of your integrity,” Ruby said, while Muffin nodded in assent. “I will admit that it did not hurt that Nightingale has told us so much about you already, though.”
“Celestia vouched for me? Really?” Tristan asked, somewhat warmed by the idea. “Well, that was nice of her...I’ll have to remember to thank her sometime.”
Before long a waiter came by and took all of their orders. Tristan realized that this was his first time in a pony restaurant and he had no idea of what to get, so he decided to play it safe and just order a pasta. The four chatted amicably during their meal, as Tristan and Nightingale spoke of old topics from the castle, and he filled the other two in on a bit about his history and his recent adventures. They were all interested but none seemed more enraptured than Muffin, who wouldn’t stop staring at him the entire time, hardly taking the time to blink.
“...So we were running out of the gate at full speed, or at least everyone else was since I couldn’t move, and the most terrifying, grotesque thing came straight at...” Tristan said, to be interrupted by the waiter’s return. The stallion gave Ruby the check, who immediately paid for it with a large bag of bits and then looked to a clock on the wall.
“Oh my, is it two o’clock already? Muffin, our appointment at the spa!” Ruby exclaimed.
Muffin’s eyes bulged wide open as realization struck her. “We’re going to be late! Sorry you two, but we’ve got to be off!” she said, rapidly gathering her things as Ruby said her farewells as well. They were quickly off, leaving Tristan and Nightingale sitting alone at the table.
Tristan scratched his fork along the bottom of his now empty bowl, swirling some sauce around absently. “Nice friends you’ve got there, Nightingale. That Muffin seems a bit odd, though...” he remarked.
Nightingale giggled slightly, prompting a questioning look from Tristan. “Oh, you really couldn’t tell, dearie?” she said, eying Tristan in a peculiar way.
“Nooooo...” Tristan said slowly, urging her to continue.
“She likes you, of course! She’s always been into the adventurous and exotic types, so I thought she might fancy you,” Nightingale said cheerily.
“Wait. Wait. What do you mean? ‘Likes me’? Like, ‘Likes me likes me’?” Tristan asked uncertainly, to which Nightingale just nodded. He took a moment to process the information, before stifling a retch. “That’s disgusting!” he exclaimed.
Nightingale suddenly got serious, all of the mirth draining away at once from her face and voice. “Well that’s not very nice! Muffin is a nice mare!” she said, almost angrily.
“Sure, sure, I don’t doubt that! But she’s a mare!” Tristan exclaimed.
“...Ohhhhhh!” Nightingale said after processing for a moment, apparently catching on. “I didn’t peg you for the type, but I suppose cultures must differ between dimensions, after all. Well, I do have this stallion friend who-” she was cut off by Tristan.
“Nonononono, no! Not like that! Damn, not like that!” Tristan interjected, rapidly becoming sick with the subject matter. “It’s not just mares, it’s ponies! I’m not into ponies! Why the Hell would I be?”
“Oh, that was my second guess,” Nightingale said sheepishly, becoming somewhat uncomfortable herself.
“I get that you have more than one species here, but is it really just that, that...normal? Like, minotaurs and ponies will regularly?...” Tristan said queasily.
Nightingale took a moment, then caught on. “Oh. Oh! Well, yes! It’s not that strange, really, if they love each other.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Tristan said, motioning her to stop and facepalming a little. “While you ponies may act a lot like humans, you don’t look like them. When I see you I still see...well, an animal. And I know you’re not! But that’s just not even anywhere near on the table, okay?”
“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this, dearie,” Nightingale said, slightly embarrassed now. “I’m sorry that I brought it up, and I’ll go have a talk with Muffin for you. Does that sound alright?”
“Yeah, that’d be fine. Thanks. It’s just...” Tristan gave a slight shudder. “Just no. Just...just no.”
The two sat there in awkward silence for a moment before Tristan dared to speak. “Aaaanywaaays...” he broached uncomfortably. “I suppose I’d better head off, then. Nice talking with you and all.”
“And the same to you, dearie. I’ll have to stop by that shop of yours when I get the chance. Where did you say it was again?” Nightingale responded, getting up off her chair.
“On the edge of the market district, south side. I’d better get a sign for it, now that I think about it...anyway, if all goes well I’ll give it a shot tomorrow,” Tristan answered.
“I’ll make sure to stop by when I have the chance. Until then!” Nightingale said, trotting over to Tristan and starting to go in for a hug, before stopping herself.
“It’s not like I’m repulsed by ponies, you know,” Tristan said, going in for the hug himself. “Just...not like that.”
Nightingale merely smiled in response. They parted ways, waving each other off.
Well, I’ve been stabbed, gored, sliced, crushed, and all sorts of other crazy stuff since I got here, but that had to be the most unpleasant of the lot...eh, I suppose it could have gone worse, though. Figures the first female that’s attracted to me since junior high is a pony. Come to think of it...will I ever date? Unless I manage to get back home, I’m just going to be a virgin for life...great. Oh well, at least I get to be a wizard when I turn thirty. Then maybe Lore can show me some real magic!
Tristan chuckled to himself a bit, continuing to walk down the street. He figured he ought to get a sign if he was going to open up tomorrow, but he was certainly in no rush to get one. As such he found himself wandering for nearly an hour through different parts of the market district, perusing windows and the like, before finally coming across a woodworking store. Several minutes and bits later he was out, with a large sign that read “The Golden Elixir” and had an engraving of a bubbling flask, along with everything he’d need to nail it up. Before leaving he realized he’d need a sign that read “Open” as well, so he got that too. Despite the fact that very few of his potions were golden he thought the name sounded catchy, so he ran with it.
After buying a sandwich he thought would preserve well for dinner, Tristan made his way back to his new home. Humming to himself, he nailed the new sign in the most prominent place he could find over his shop and made his way inside. Feeling particularly industrious and noting that the sun was still up, he spent some time cleaning up the small room downstairs and turning it into an alchemy lab. Pride surged through him as he surveyed all that he now owned, and all of the things he had going for him.
He got started concocting all manner of different potions, making sure to prepare quite a few doses of what he expected to be the more popular ones. Figuring that he ought to label them as well, he scribbled the names of the potions on paper labels, attaching them to their respective potions. Finally, Tristan was done for the day. After scarfing down his sandwich from earlier he went to bed feeling accomplished, and not even screeching cats kept him from sleep.
Tristan awoke suddenly to a pounding at the door downstairs. Cautiously he rose and dressed, half-expecting some crazy pony outside. A peek through his upstairs window assuaged his fears, however, as he saw Lore standing impatiently at the door, tapping his hoof.
He rushed down the stairs and unlatched the lock, welcoming Lore in. “Lore! It’s good to see you and all, but could you at least have waited until like, noon, before stopping by?” Tristan said, rubbing some of the crust from his eyes.
“Aren’t you going to be keeping a shop here? I’m afraid starting your day at noon would be a terrible idea if you are,” Lore said, trotting inside and eying a few of the potions Tristan had arrayed on the shelves. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Huh? I might be able to help out...but it depends on the favor. What’s up?” Tristan asked cautiously, not eager to get himself hurt again.
“It’s Shauku, that zebra foal. Apparently he hasn’t been getting on well at the refugee camp they set up, and since we brought him in, I was approached about it. Seems he’s been asking for you,” Lore elaborated.
Shit! I forgot all about Shauku and that stuff! Damn...I’ve been out here having some fun and he just lost everyone, as far as I know.
“Why has he been asking for me? Like, specifically?” Tristan asked.
“No idea, but I think you should talk to him. The vast majority of the zebra population worldwide died in that city, his whole family along with them. He needs someone to talk to, and apparently he chose you,” Lore answered. “I’m not going to force you to, but I do believe it would be the right thing to do.”
“Right, yeah, it would be. He must be going through a whole lot right now. Do you think you could bring him over here? I’d rather not go to a refugee camp filled with zebras that just had their homes taken away by rift spawns, again,” Tristan said, keenly remembering the poison dart from earlier.
“I could do that, yes. I suppose I’ll be off to see to it, then...” Lore began, before taking a closer look at some of the potions on the shelves. “You wrote on them? You do know that will only work for ponies within the radius of a translation enchantment, don’t you?”
A moment passed, and then it hit him. “Oh, dammit! That’s right! But I can’t write whatever the Hell kind of language you all use.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Lore said dryly. “Anyway, I must be off! I’ll be back in a short while with Shauku.”
Tristan bade him goodbye and shut the door behind him. He figured he could just tell ponies what potions were for, but he knew he’d have to learn how to write their language eventually, or at least get a translator that could write for him. Sighing, he occupied himself by double checking the colors and consistencies of the potions he made with the descriptions from his books.
About an hour later, as judged by the new clock on his wall, Lore returned with Shauku in tow. “Alright Shauku, here he is!” Lore said, opening the door for Shauku.
“Tristan!” the zebra colt shouted, running towards him and hugging onto his leg.
“I’ll just leave you two to it, then,” Lore said with an amused grin, leaving and abandoning Tristan to his fate.
“Uh, hey Shauku,” Tristan said uncomfortably, not sure of what he should do with the small colt wrapped around his leg. “How have you been?” Shauku immediately unlatched himself from Tristan, looking upset. “That bad, huh?”
Shauku just nodded sadly, and Tristan kneeled down to his level. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m right here. I won’t force you, of course, but it’ll do you some good.”
Shauku stood there for a moment and looked like he was about to speak, before the potions on the shelves caught his eye. Though some of them were too high for him to reach he rushed to the ones he could see, his eyes filling with tears as he looked upon them.
“They’re just like Grandpa used to make...you even put the labels on there,” he said quietly, picking up one and swirling it around.
“Ah, yeah, I’m going to be opening up shop pretty soon. I’ve just had enough adventures, and I want to stay away from all of that stuff,” Tristan said, walking over to where Shauku was. “I don’t think I’ll get to be quite as good as your grandfather, but I should be able to make a living.”
After a few moments of silence while Shauku examined the potions Tristan felt the need to speak up. “Sooo...” he began slowly. “Lore said you wanted to talk with me a bit. What about?”
Shauku looked towards Tristan, then quickly away again. “You’re...you’re my only friend left,” he finally said, barely audible over the sounds from outside. “I don’t know what to do! No one cares about me in the camp!” he suddenly burst out, frustration overcoming his sadness.
Tristan was taken aback, feeling very much that he wasn’t anywhere near qualified to deal with issues like this. Nevertheless, he knew he had to try. “I’m sure they do, Shauku. They’re just going through a lot of stuff themselves,” he offered.
Shauku didn’t look consoled in the slightest, so Tristan sighed and brought himself down to Shauku’s level again. “I don’t know how much help it’ll be, but I can at least lend you an ear. Just talk to me a bit and you’ll feel better, I promise.”
Shauku took a moment, before his voice finally burst forth as a flood. He lamented about the loss of his family, home, and friends, the apathy of the refugees, and the loss of his people as a whole. The entire time he kept getting less and less coherent but Tristan let him speak, knowing that him listening was more important than him understanding. Eventually, Shauku seemed spent and plopped down on the floor, sniffling.
“I just don’t know what to do...” he said between sniffs. Tristan looked upon him in pity, not really knowing what to say. Much to his dismay, Shauku looked up to him pleadingly, as if looking for an answer.
“Well, I don’t know...” Tristan said, unwilling to commit to anything. “If you could choose what you would do, what would it be? Would you leave the camp? Stay with the others and rebuild?” he asked, hoping to start a bit of dialogue.
“Well...” Shauku began, eyes drifting lazily upwards in thought. “I guess...I guess I’d want to become an alchemist! Like what you’re doing!” he declared, sounding as if he just discovered all the answers to life’s mysteries.
“You are pretty good at alchemy, I’ll give you that,” Tristan said, pondering on how he could help the colt. “I suppose you could stop by and help me out here from time to time, if you wanted.”
“You mean it?” Shauku asked excitedly, his eyes suddenly lighting up.
“Well, I suppose...yeah, why not?” Tristan answered, unsure of if he was breaking any rules. “Would that be going against child labor laws or something, though?”
“Child labor laws? What are those?” Shauku asked, confused.
“There aren’t any-” Tristan began, before stopping himself. “Alright, good, I guess. I’m not here to advocate social reform, or anything...”
Shauku just looked confused, so Tristan decided to keep to keep the conversation going. “Tell you what. You help me in the shop today, and I’ll pay you some bits for the work. Sound good?”
“I’m getting paid?” Shauku practically shouted in excitement, his sorrow forgotten.
“Yeah, why not? You’re not my kid so it’s not like you’d be expected to help out, and if you’re doing good work then you ought to get something for it,” Tristan said, unable to suppress a smile at Shauku’s jubilations.
“I’ll work hard! I helped Grandpa out a lot in his shop, so I know how things work!” Shauku said happily, now trotting around the shop and looking at things.
“Well then you might be better than me at this. Frankly, I’ve got no idea where to start! I figured I’d just let ponies in and see if they liked anything,” Tristan said, contemplating how ill-prepared he really was.
“Do you know how much you’re going to be selling these for?” Shauku asked, to which Tristan shook his head negatory. “Well, Grandpa always said to sell things at three times what the material cost. Then you can have specials and still make money!”
“Right, I remember most of what went into what, so that shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. Anything else?” Tristan said gratefully.
“Uhh, I wanted to ask, why are they all written in Zebrican? Shouldn’t they be written in Equestrian? You do know how to speak Equestrian, right?” Shauku asked, examining the bottles.
“They’re not actually written in Zebrican,” Tristan said, at which Shauku just looked puzzled. “It’s just the translation spell that’s on this pendant I wear,” he showed Shauku the pendant that still hung around his neck. “It’s kinda complicated, but it pretty much means if you understand one language the best, when you’re around me everything sounds like, and reads in, that language.”
“That’s so cool!” Shauku exclaimed, getting a closer look at the pendant. “So you can’t write Equestrian, then?” Tristan shook his head. “Well I can, they taught us in school! So if you want, I can write stuff for you!”
“That...that would be perfect, actually! You’re earning your bits already!” Tristan said happily. “Tell you what, you do that, and I’ll double check the material costs. Once we get them all labelled, we can open up for the day. Sound good to you?”
Shauku vigorously nodded, searching around until he found Tristan’s quill and ink that he was using and vigorously scratching away at the labels. Tristan smiled at his enthusiasm and made his way to the back room, verifying how much he paid for things from memory and how much of each went into each potion. After a while he returned to the main room and told Shauku how much each was, which was added to the labels. Grinning at all the progress, Tristan flipped the sign to open and waited for his first customer.
They continued to wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
Hours of increasingly depressing boredom passed as the morale was sucked straight out of them, leaving them talking idly behind the counter. Unexpectedly the door opened and Tristan hastily scrambled to his feet, rushing to greet the customer. The pony looked to be exceptionally important, with a styled blue mane and mustache, white coat, fancy suit and monocle. His mark was of three crowns, so Tristan knew he must be rich.
“Welcome to The Golden Elixir, how may I help you?” Tristan said, recalling the generic line of every NPC shopkeeper ever.
“I say, so you really are a rift spawn running a shop right here in Canterlot!” the pony said in a posh accent. Tristan’s enthusiasm sunk for a moment, as he realized he might have just been visited to be gawked at. “Oh my, where are my manners? My name is Fancy Pants, and yours is?...”
“Oh, um, It’s Tristan. Tristan Davis. Nice to meet you,” Tristan said, unsure of whether or not he’d actually be making a sale. He saw Shauku peeking his head from behind the counter, but keeping his distance.
“Tristan Davis? What an exotic name! You’re not at all what many ponies have been making you out to be. But I digress; you are running an establishment here,” Fancy said, eying some of the potions on the walls. “What manner of elixirs is it that you sell, exactly?”
“All sorts!” Tristan said, rushing over to the shelves to show his wares. “These potions are essentially spells in a bottle, with all sorts of effects! Would you like to sample one?”
“I don’t see why not,” Fancy said, apparently quite trusting of Tristan. “Let’s see here...” he continued, browsing through the wares. “‘Draught of Vitality’? What does this one do?”
“That one will make you feel energized and awake nearly instantly with just a small sip,” Tristan said, recalling that he made several of those, as he expected them to be popular. “Please, allow me,” he took the flask off the wall and uncorked it, presenting it to Fancy.
Fancy sniffed it, though it had no aroma, and levitated it over to his mouth for a small sip. He stood there for a moment, apparently contemplating it, before his eyes widened slightly and he shook himself vigorously. “I say! That really did work!” he exclaimed, trotting around a bit. “I feel as though I just awoke from a short nap!”
Success! For a moment there I thought it might poison him or something...but no, no, I got these potions right. I checked them!”
“I’ll take a selection of your recommended potions, and I will most certainly be telling my friends!” Fancy said, at which Tristan’s heart skipped a beat.
“H-how many potions would you like?” Tristan said, daring to hope.
“I’ll take one of each, and three of those draughts that I sampled!” Fancy said, glancing over to the shelves.
“One of-” Tristan began, surprised. “Oh, yes! Of course! One of each, coming right up!”
He took the necessary potions from the shelves and stacked them all in one of the sacks he bought along with his ingredients, tallying up the expenses. Some of the potions were fairly expensive to make, and so were even more expensive to sell. “Your total will be...one hundred and seventy four bits,” he figured, adding them all up in his head.
“That’s all? Why, that’s practically a steal!” Fancy said, levitating a coin purse out of his suit and extracting two hundred bits. “Keep the change, my boy, for the most excellent service!” he said amicably, levitating up the sack. “I do believe I have quite the story to tell now, meeting a rift spawn such as yourself and discovering such delightful novelties.”
Tristan was working hard to keep his composure after the purchase and tip, and managed to make his way to the door to open it. “My pleasure, sir! Thank you very much!” he said, putting on a large genuine smile.
“The pleasure is all mine! Thank you, sir!” Fancy said as he walked out of the store. Tristan closed the door slowly before exploding.
“Two hundred bits! Two hundred bits from one customer!” he yelled over to Shauku, who seemed just as happy about it as he did. The two celebrated for a moment before getting back behind the counter to await the next customer with renewed morale.
No new customers did come, however, and the day ended with Lore stopping by to pick up Shauku. “I see that some potions are missing; I take it that your first day went well? Or perhaps you were robbed?” Lore said, noting the smile on Tristan’s face.
“Har har. But really, it went great! Well, kinda. We only made one sale, but it was one Hell of a sale!” Tristan said, flipping his open sign to closed for the day. “Shauku here was a great help. We talked a bit, and I figured he could help me out here.”
“I don’t see why not,” Lore said. “Though you’ll have to pick him up every day, or he’ll have to come here himself. I won’t have time to ferry him back and forth.”
“Aww,” Shauku pouted, looking at the two. “I don’t want to go back to the camp!” he exclaimed, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. Lore didn’t seem to be affected, but Tristan thought it was adorable. “Can’t I just stay here with Tristan?”
“Wait, I can’t adopt you or anything!” Tristan said quickly, fearing his intentions were misunderstood. “You’re a good friend, but I don’t want to be tied down like that.”
“What if I was just a, umm, what are they called...” Shauku pondered, desperately searching for the correct word. “A zebra that rents out a bed!”
“You mean a tenant?” Lore chimed in, at which Shauku vigorously nodded. “Well, I don’t see why not, if Tristan is alright with it.”
“I, I don’t know...” Tristan said, unsure of if he wanted to have to watch out for Shauku all the time. As if he predicted his thoughts, Shauku spoke up.
“I won’t be a burden, I promise! I can look after myself, and help in the shop, and cook my own meals, and everything!” he said, the hope overflowing in his voice.
“You really don’t like it at that camp, do you?” Tristan asked, to which he shook his head. “Tell you what, then. We’ll try it. I’m not saying it’ll work out, but we’ll give it a shot. Alright?” Tristan said, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.
“Sure, yeah, that sounds great!”, Shauku said, bursting with excitement. “I won’t be a burden, I promise!”
Lore smiled slightly, apparently amused with the whole situation. “I suppose I don’t need to take him back, then. I’ll tell the refugees where he went, so they’ll know he didn’t get lost. They were pretty crowded over there anyway, so I doubt they’ll mind.”
“Alright, works for me, I suppose. I guess it’s worked out, then!” Tristan said.
Lore just nodded, turning to leave. Before he left he took one more glance over at the two and a small smile escaped his lips, then he was gone.
What did I just agree to?...
“Thank you thank you thank you!” Shauku shouted, causing Tristan to cringe from the noise.
“Yeah, you’re welcome, but keep it down a bit, please! I generally like my silence,” Tristan said.
Shauku said nothing, instead just motioning his hoof over his lips as if zipping them. “Well, it’s been a long day, so I think I’ll get to bed. Let’s see what we can work out for you up there until we get you a real bed,” Tristan said, making his way up the stairs.
Seeing no other alternative for the night, Tristan ended up giving Shauku his pillow to sleep on, while he went without. Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to process both his first day of operating his shop and the things that happened with Shauku, but eventually the thoughts died down as drowsiness overtook him. With a last look at Shauku, who was already fast asleep in the corner, he closed his eyes and slept.
The days that followed the opening of Tristan’s store flew by. It seemed Fancy Pants held even more sway than Tristan could have ever hoped for, and soon The Golden Elixir was selling out of potions as quickly as Tristan and Shauku could produce them. Before long, Tristan had amassed enough money to upgrade his furnishings and buy some things for Shauku.
Shauku was getting along well and, though he fell into melancholy from time to time when he thought of his home and family, he seemed to be slowly coming to terms with things. Further, he was proving to be a valuable asset to the shop, showing what Tristan thought was a surprising work ethic for one so young.
The one thing in Tristan’s life that wasn’t flourishing was his social life. The dedication required to run a store, as well as the associated fatigue, kept him from getting out very much. Though he still spoke to Lore frequently, and even had a few more outings with Nightingale, he found himself spending most of the free time he had alone, reading. However, he did have at least some social life, and so he was happy.
This lifestyle continued for almost a full month, before the atmosphere in Canterlot began to change. What began as rumors were quickly confirmed to be true, as large organized groups of rift spawn began attacking small settlements along Equestria’s borders. Survivors from such attacks were few, but all spoke of terrible massacres. Every time Equestria responded to a threat the attackers had already dispersed, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.
Though Tristan attempted to speak to Lore about these things he could never get a straight answer, as Lore consistently told him that the events happening didn’t concern him; but there were plans in the making for a defense. Any attempts to contact Krik were in vain, as the formian was always away from the castle for some reason when Tristan stopped by.
Eventually Tristan decided it was best to simply let such worries be dealt with by those who made it their business to do so, opting to distract himself with his work instead. Large orders from the Equestrian military for potions which could be used in combat began pouring in, considering that the main supply line from Zebrica was decimated, and so he never found himself without something to do. Still, the conflict troubled him, and the increasing frequency of attacks worried him more and more each day.
Tristan walked out of his store for his lunch break, shooing out a few stragglers from inside that didn’t want to leave. He’d recently taken to going to the same sandwich shop at the heart of the market every day, and had become somewhat of a regular there. Humming himself an idle tune, he made his way through the crowds.
Most of the crowd ignored him, having long since come to accept, or at least tolerate, his existence in the city. A few ponies he recognized as having been to his shop waved to him, and he returned the gestures. However, some ponies made an effort to avoid him on the street and shot him glares of unmistakable anger or dislike. Tristan had been encountering those types more and more frequently as of late, though none of them had ever approached him. He didn’t let them bother him, though, and paid them little heed.
Eventually Tristan found his way to his destination and bought his meal, slowly savoring it outside the shop. As he leisurely chewed his sandwich he mused upon how much his outlook had changed in recent weeks, as he spread his roots in a new life. While he still missed his old one, things weren’t too bad for him. Nearby, a small colt was yelling something and handing out fliers, but he hardly even noticed.
The wind suddenly picked up and the stack of fliers near the colt was caught in the wind, blowing everywhere. Amid the distressed cries of the colt a flier made its way over to Tristan, twisting in the current of the breeze around his head and landing beside him. Tristan idly reached down to pick it up, and was distraught by what it read.
“EMERGENCY EVACUATION CONTINGENCY PLAN” written in all capital letters on its front, with guidelines listing down the page. His sandwich forgotten, Tristan intently read the print, which stated that plans had been made in case of an attack directly on Canterlot.
But...they shouldn’t be this far into Equestria, should they? No, this has got to be just some backup in the case of a worst case scenario...right? There’s no way Canterlot would fall, anyway. What with the princesses, guards, and magic that they’ve got here, those walls in Zebrica were nothing in comparison. But still…
Tristan finished the document, which assigned different sections of town meeting areas and detailed the plans to use old mine tunnels within the mountain itself to escape if worst came to worst, and began to make his way back to his shop. As he walked the wind picked up once more, however, and blew the flier from his inattentive grasp.
After unsuccessfully attempting to snatch it back up before it got away, Tristan found himself chasing the flier down the street. Time and time again the paper evaded his grasp. Each time he was about to get to it the wind blew it farther, or it temporarily stuck to a cart, or it was juggled between the throngs of ponies on the streets. He finally caught up to it on a side street and snatched the tattered document in his hand, panting from his short exertion.
Should have just gotten a new one, damn thing. I’ve gotta know where to go just in case the city gets attacked, and Shauku will want to look this over too...wait, where am I?
Tristan looked around, finding that his chase had led him quite a bit astray from his usual path. He didn’t recognize the part of the city he was in, and he noticed that while he could still hear the crowds on the main street, he couldn’t see any of them. The area directly around him looked to be deserted. Slightly uncomfortable with his situation, Tristan began to make his way back to the main street to find his bearings.
However, before he had made a scant two steps, he heard a voice yelling in his direction. Not catching the words, he slowly turned around, to see a rather large stallion charging straight at him. Eyes suddenly widening, Tristan cried out in surprise and began to run the opposite direction, but was overcome before he could even begin to escape. The mass of the stallion handily bowled him over and he hit the pavement heavily.
“You!” the stallion roared powerfully.
“Shit, who the Hell are you?” Tristan yelled back, turning over from his face down position to face his attacker. “What is wrong with you?”
“Quiet!” the stallion yelled back, snorting in Tristan’s face. “My name doesn’t matter, but what does is her’s!”
This guy is insane! Who the Hell is “her”? If I can just get free, or get some help…how hasn’t anyone heard this yet?
Tristan attempted to scream out for assistance, but seeing him draw in the air for it, the stallion roughly struck Tristan across the face. The hoof felt like a brick and his vision blurred. Shocked by the blow, Tristan was temporarily cowed, and he began to taste copper.
“Meadow Song! Do you know the name?” the stallion asked forcefully. Tristan was still dazed and didn’t reply, to which his attacker stomped on his gut. “Answer me!”
“N-no!” Tristan sputtered out, his fear scattering his thoughts.
The stallion stood glaring at him for a moment, before softening his gaze. “She was beautiful,” he said in a suddenly calmer tone of voice. “Most beautiful mare I’d ever seen. And she was mine,” he continued, his voice becoming somewhat dreamy for a moment. “But now she’s gone! Gone because of the likes of you!” he shouted again, his anger returning as swiftly as it faded.
“Look, I didn’t do anything! Just let me go!” Tristan said, not feeling up to being particularly diplomatic.
“Let you go? Let you go?” the stallion said forcefully. “So you can go back to living your happy little life here, while she’s dead? You don’t belong in this world, monster!” he finished, striking Tristan’s face again. A resounding crack accompanied the blow and pain blossomed from Tristan’s nose, as blood began to run freely from it.
Before the beating could continue the now heavily dazed Tristan heard a second voice, this one of a mare. “What are you doing to him?” the mare cried out.
“You stay out of this!” the stallion roared, taking the opportunity to stomp on Tristan’s left hand, from which more cracks could be heard. Tristan yelled out in pain, unable to defend himself with his attacker pinning him down.
“You let him go!” the mare said forcefully. “What did he ever do to you?”
“Are you blind? Look at him!” the stallion snarled. “He’s a rift spawn! Haven’t you seen what they’ve been doing? They’re all monsters!”
Tristan heard several more sets of hooves drawn to the attention, and more ponies gathered around the display. Many told the stallion to get off Tristan, though he vaguely heard a few egging his attacker on. The stallion roared once more in rage and began to repeatedly stomp on Tristan, knocking out what little breath he had with each blow. Before the onslaught could continue several ponies burst from those that surrounded the fight and knocked the stallion clean off of Tristan.
His thoughts a blur, Tristan lay upon the ground, soaking in his own blood. He could vaguely process the stallion bellowing out something non-coherently, and saw the shapes of ponies crowding around him. One hefted him on top of it and began to move him from the area, and though Tristan knew he should have been feeling a lot of pain, shock had taken over and given him numbness instead.
He was loaded onto a cart and wheeled off. As he turned his head from side to side he saw sympathetic eyes all around, and attempted to speak. Doing so caused the pain to spike again, however, and he ceased his efforts. Before long he was at the hospital, and after an indistinct prick on his arm, he lost consciousness.
Tristan groggily awoke, finding the back of his throat to be extraordinarily dry. He attempted to breathe but found his nostrils plugged by something, and instead opted to use his mouth. As the world slowly came into focus around him he noticed himself in a bed, fully clothed, back at the hospital. He dryly noted that this was becoming far too familiar a scene for him. Luckily, he wasn’t nearly as injured as the previous times he’d been hospitalized, as evidenced by nothing but a cast on his arm, some bandages, and whatever they did to his nose. Further, he felt very little pain, and his thoughts were reasonably clear.
Before long an earth pony nurse with a light green coat made her way in to check on him. “Finally awake, are we?” she said chipperly, as she proceeded to examine his bandaging.
“Yeah,” Tristan said, noting how nasally his voice sounded with his clogged nostrils. “What’s the damage?”
”What’s the damage”...I get my ass kicked, I get hospitalized again...and I’m this calm? Huh. I can’t believe how used to this scene I’ve gotten. I suppose that’s just what comes with having been an adventurer for a while…no point in making a big deal about everything.
“Nothing too bad, just a broken hand and nose. You’ll need to stop by for treatment daily for about half a week, but after that you should be right as rain!” the nurse said, apparently satisfied with her examination. “You should be fine to check out whenever you’d like.”
“Thanks. But now that that’s done with, could you tell me what the Hell happened back there? Who was that stallion?” Tristan asked, testing his legs in the bed and finding them unharmed.
“O-oh, right. Just let me go get your file,” the nurse replied, apparently taken aback by the direct questioning. She left the room, and Tristan was left with his thoughts.
I mean, really, I get out of the adventuring life, I settle down peacefully, and I don’t do anything to make enemies. So why am I still getting into situations like these? Gettin’ real tired of this crap…
The nurse returned, a crisp manilla folder held in her mouth. She opened it up and read through it before speaking. “We weren’t told who the stallion was that attacked you, but the ponies that brought you in here said they found you being assaulted by him. Other than that there’s just the medical report.”
Well that explained nothing…
“Right. Thanks. Was he at least arrested or something?” Tristan asked, to which the mare just shrugged. “Well, thanks for your help. You said I’m good to go, then? What about my nose?” he asked, gingerly probing his nostrils with a finger to find something malleable lodged in them.
“Yes, you can leave whenever you’d like, but you should take things easy. The doctors put some sponges in your nostrils, so that the cartilage would set correctly around them.
“But I don’t need any meds or anything? I just go about my life as if nothing happened?” Tristan asked.
“No, we’re quite good at what we do, I promise you!” the mare said. “You’re right on the road to recovery, just take it easy for a few days. Come back and see us tomorrow.”
“Well, you’re the boss…” Tristan said, hoisting his legs over the side of the bed and steadying himself into a standing position. He cracked his back, noticing only a vague numbness from his injuries.
“You don’t have to go just yet! You could still use some rest after all of that!” the nurse said, motioning him to sit back down.
“But I don’t have to stay, right?” Tristan asked, to which the nurse shook her head. “Then, no offense to the lovely food here, but I’m out. I’ve had enough damn hospital time…”
With that Tristan walked right past the mare and made his way out of the hospital. He didn’t even care about the strange looks he was getting from patients and staff alike, and merely grunted as the receptionist at the front asked him if he was alright. He staggered out into the city proper, finding it to be close to dusk already. Muttering to himself about how crazy ponies were, he found his way back home.
At his shop he found Shauku waiting for him. “Tristan!” the colt shouted, bounding from the counter to him. “I heard about what happened!”
“Yeah, well, I’ve had worse…” Tristan muttered, noting that more than anything, he was just cranky right now. “You hear about that whole evacuation thing?”
“Yeah…” Shauku said sadly. “But it’s not going to really happen, is it? Not here!” he asked hopefully.
“I doubt it will. Better safe than sorry though, right?” Tristan responded, snatching a restorative potion from a shelf and downing it in one gulp. A warmth spread through his body and he felt a little better instantly. “Hey, I’m going to get an early night, alright? Think you can close stuff up?”
“Yes, sir!” Shauku said in his most serious voice. Tristan found himself chuckling slightly, and wished Shauku goodnight before making his way upstairs and plopping onto his bed.
All things considered, I guess I should have seen that crap coming. It was too much to think they’d all be fine with me staying here after such a short time...but that doesn’t mean I have to let that happen again! From now on, I’m keeping some potions on me. Maybe if I’ve got some liquid that causes temporary blindness with me ponies won’t mess with me. Yeah...I can see that working…
Tristan fell asleep entertaining himself with thoughts of the stallion from earlier ramming senselessly into walls. He thought it odd that he was as accepting of what had happened as he was, but figured it was really for the best. He knew anger would get him nowhere.
The next week began terribly, and ended worse. Mixing potions turned out to be a terrible pain with limited use of his hands, so work turned into a chore. Further, he was told that somehow the stallion that assaulted him “got away” and they couldn’t find him. The anger he felt at the injustice was diluted by the feeling that he should have been prepared in the first place, and he eventually came to terms with his attacker getting away.
Three days into the week, as soon as Tristan got his cast removed, the worst came to be. The bulk of the army of rift spawn were inexplicably on Canterlot’s doorstep overnight, with only a meager warning from scattered scouts. Luckily, Canterlot’s defenses were easily erected, as a large team of unicorns were set to shielding the entire city day and night. Panic spread quickly but was somewhat dissipated by the fact that the rift spawn weren’t actually doing anything.
Instead, the entire army seemed content to just sit outside of the city. Supply lines of mobile spawn kept the army fed, and so they just sat there. What began as a mood of outright terror quickly turned to complacency, as ponies grew more and more confident that they were safe inside their shield. Other than the inability to leave and the subtle gnawing feeling that the worst was yet to come, life proceeded as it always had. However, food was not unlimited, and many ponies feared for their families that lived elsewhere.
One week to the day after the rift spawn had originally come to the city, Tristan began hearing mutters in his shop. Ponies were speaking in hushed voices about something that everypony apparently thought to be a secret, but everypony apparently knew anyway. Something was going to happen that day, but none seemed to know exactly what. Tristan didn’t bother any of his customers about the issue, but he overheard enough to get the gist of it. A sense of malaise crept over him as the day continued, though he tried to not let it show.
That evening he decided to close early, as the business he was getting had dried up almost completely throughout the day. Ponies everywhere were bracing for something, and the air was positively electric. As Tristan walked into the street he saw few ponies outdoors, and those that were tended to be intent on hurrying to their destinations. All of this was getting to Tristan, so he decided to go pay Noble a visit and see if he knew what was going on.
Though the sun was still high overhead, only just beginning its slow descent, his walk was completely unhindered by ponies. He wondered if they all knew something he didn’t, or if they were all just getting spooked by others who were getting spooked at nothing, and a chain reaction had happened. Indeed, none of the ponies he attempted to ask about what was going on even answered him, all electing to ignore him and hurry along their way. Before long he made it to the castle.
Unlike the rest of the city, the castle was the same as it ever was. The guards were as stone-faced as ever, and none of the patrols showed any perturbation at the strange mood that permeated the city. Tristan asked one of the guards where he might find Noble, and he was given directions to his friend’s current post within the castle. He thanked the nameless guard that assisted him, but the guard didn’t respond.
After a short walk through the castle Tristan finally saw Noble standing guard at a heavily fortified door that Tristan had noticed several times but never inquired about. At seeing Tristan, Noble raised a single eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t show that he noticed his visitor.
“Hey, Noble? Sorry to bother you, but I thought you might be the best pony I could go to right now...Lore hasn’t been very helpful lately. Can we talk for a moment?” Tristan broached, while Noble stood as still as every other on-duty guard Tristan had passed on his way. At the lack of response, Tristan tried again. “Seriously, something’s happening, but I don’t know what it is, and it’s making me worried. Can you just talk to me for a moment?”
Noble gave an almost imperceptible sigh and finally responded. “I’m on duty, Tristan. You’re free to wait around until I’m off, which will be soon, but please do not disturb me right now,” he said in a low voice, while keeping his face as stoic as possible.
“Sure, I can do that. Thanks,” Tristan said in a similarly low voice, though he didn’t know why he was speaking so softly. He then proceeded to lean himself against the wall opposite Noble, who was back to being a veritable statue.
I can’t decide whether I respect the guards for that stoic stuff, or if it’s just annoying...then again, Noble never was much of one for goofing off in the first place. I bet Keen used to have an absolutely fantastic time with that duty...no wonder he was so happy to take on that assignment with us. Poor guy…
After what seemed like hours, but was almost certainly much less, another guard came by and relieved Noble from his post. “Trot with me,” Noble said casually as he turned down the hallway they were in, not even looking at Tristan. Tristan hurried to comply and walked by Noble’s side.
“So what is it that you want, exactly?” Noble asked bluntly, as he led them through the castle.
“I just want to know what’s going on. Lore’s been stonewalling me all month, but I know something’s up. Everyone knows something’s up, more than just the army out there. Is the shield going to break soon or something?” Tristan asked.
They reached a remote dead end of a hallway and stopped, as Noble turned to Tristan. “If I tell you what’s going on, you’re going to have to stick with me today. No leaving me to go blabbering. Understood?” Noble asked.
“Uh...alright? Are you going to go spilling government secrets or something to me?” Tristan asked hesitantly.
“Something like that…” Noble said. “You know about the elements of harmony, right?”
“...Yeah, Lore wouldn’t shut up about them for hours, back when we were first exchanging information. They’re currently held by some random ponies, and Celestia’s protege, right?” Tristan replied, recalling the stories of the return of Nightmare Moon and Discord.
“...Right. They’re here, right now. Tonight they use the elements on the army,” Noble said, after looking around to see if anyone was watching them. “I don’t know what it’ll do, but at this point, it’s the best option we’ve got. If this fails, there’s no way we’ll be able to stop those things. Every one of them fights in a different way, and their numbers keep getting bigger while ours get smaller.”
“So they’re sending in like what, five ponies, to fight off that entire army? Just how powerful are these elements?” Tristan asked skeptically.
“There are six of them, and that’s the thing. We don’t know,” Noble replied somberly. “Nopony quite understands how the elements work. What we do know about them is that they work to restore harmony, and that likely means destroying things that don’t belong here.”
“Destroying things...wait, you mean like me? This stuff isn’t going to end up killing me, is it? Should I be leaving the city or something?” Tristan asked, his mind instantly picturing himself being killed in a huge flash of light, along with all of the other rift spawns.
Noble didn’t reply for a moment. “We don’t know,” he finally said, averting his eyes from Tristan.
“Well what do you mean you don’t know?” Tristan asked, his voice raising in fear. "I need to leave, then!”
“We both know nopony can leave the city right now. Not even through the tunnels, not until that shield is down,” Noble replied. At Tristan’s look of despair he continued. “But there might be some hope for you, if we’re right. You were connected to Equestria’s natural magical field earlier, weren’t you?” Tristan nodded. “Then that might be enough to keep you safe. And remember this is all just theory; the elements have never been used on the spawn before. Too risky. So really, anything could happen.”
Tristan stood there in silence for a moment, scrambled thoughts whirring inside his head. “Then...I guess there’s nothing to it, is there? I just have to say goodbye to everyone in case something happens, and-” he was cut off by Noble.
“No! This is highly restricted information, Tristan. Until the elements have done their job and safely guarded again, ponies aren’t allowed to know what’s going on. We already have enough trouble keeping them safe from the rift spawn, and the last thing we need is for civilians and nutjobs to be getting involved. That’s why I said you’re staying with me until it’s done with tonight,” Noble said with a look that invited no reproach.
“Alright, I get it! But if something happens, you’ve gotta be the one that tells Shauku,” Tristan said. “Little colt, lost all of his family already, being told that his new life is going to be taken from him as well, without even getting to say goodbye…”
“I know!” Noble exclaimed in a much louder voice than normal. “Do you think I want to let that happen? You know as well as I do that it’s out of my control. Don’t make me regret telling you in the first place.”
“Alright, alright, sorry! When is this going to happen, anyway?” Tristan said, somewhat taken aback from the initial outburst.
“Soon. Right now I’m supposed to get Lore and Krik so they can watch what happens.” Noble replied.
“Wait, they were already going to watch? And I wasn’t told? What gives?” Tristan asked, slightly offended.
“They’re both still working on the rift problem constantly. You’re off running a shop. You stopped being involved in the stuff that might be dangerous, remember?” Noble answered.
“Well...good thing I sought you out, then. Should we get going?” Tristan queried, to which Noble just nodded. They set off to a familiar part of the castle: to Krik’s room.
As they neared the door they could hear yelling coming from inside. “...Don’t care if they offered you the chance! It’s a suicide mission! You’re far too important to gamble like that!” Lore’s voice shouted, obviously distressed.
“I cannot stay here and rot while the city gives way,” the voice of Krik replied, almost too quiet to be heard through the door, but still audible. “I am going to do this, and you will not stop me.”
Tristan reached his hand to the doorknob to find out what was going on, but Noble shot him a look and his arm fell limp. Noble rapped sharply at the door, and after a somewhat startled invitation to come in from Lore, they entered.
“So it’s finally time to...Tristan?” Lore said, noticing one more visitor than expected.
“Hey,” Tristan said nonchalantly, giving a small wave.
“Tristan will be joining us tonight. He’s got a stake in this too, so he should be able to come,” Noble said.
“Well that’s just…” Lore began, before sighing. “Alright. Welcome back to our little club, Tristan. I don’t suppose this means you’ll be joining us more frequently?”
“You mean like into forests and crap again? No. But this should be pretty safe, right?” Tristan replied.
“From the spawn at least, yes,” Noble said.
Krik, who had just been looking at Tristan the whole time, spoke up. “It is good to have you along again, Tristan. I trust you have been faring well?” he said in the same strangely pleasant voice as always.
“Uh, yeah. Thanks for asking. And you?” Tristan answered.
“I have been adequate,” Krik said. “Shall we be off then?”
“Yes. This thing is going to happen whether or not we show up, so we can’t be late. Follow me,” Noble replied, setting them off at a brisk pace. As they wound through the castle to the entrance Tristan noticed that there seemed to be fewer guards around than there were not long ago.
Though Tristan still hadn’t heard any official proclamation or seen any instructions posted anywhere, the streets were now completely deserted. He felt strange, walking through the city in broad daylight while the streets lay barren. His thoughts turned momentarily to Shauku and what the colt was doing, but he dismissed them, knowing the zebra would be fine on his own. He noticed some ponies peeking out of the windows of their homes, and was reminded of the scenes in old western movies where everyone hid from an imminent gunfight. His companions didn’t share, or at least didn’t show that they shared, his uneasiness, and instead just walked resolutely forward.
Before long they got to the edge of the city, where the great magical shield that protected the city met the ground. While there were normally small patrols around the circumference of the shield, today it seemed half the guards in the city were posted there. None of the guards accosted the group, and the quartet made their way to the edge unhindered. There they stood waiting in silence.
Would have been nice if they filled me in on how this works beforehand...but no one looks like they’re up to talk about anything. And there’s Krik, not worried at all, while we might just end up dying! I wish I could be a little more confident about this…
Tristan looked uneasily over the giant mass that was the rift spawn army, which stood no more than fifty feet from the barrier. There were so many creatures of so many different sizes out there, from creatures no larger than squirrels to those far bigger than elephants, that the resulting mismatch looked like one teeming blob. There was very little movement from them as they stood there. There were no roars, no fidgeting, no sounds whatsoever. Though some of the monsters looked like they would have been apex predators in their worlds, none of them showed any of the behavior he expected from such creatures. Instead, they were all staring blankly at the shield, as if waiting for something to happen.
Tristan took to idly playing with the hem of his shirt, unable to continue looking at the horde. He wished something would happen, or that someone would speak, but none did. Then, there was movement.
All eyes turned to the sky, and Tristan saw a large chariot being pulled up by several pegasi, moving towards the top of the shield. A vast company of pegasi, at least fifty strong, buzzed around the chariot. Inside Tristan could make out what looked to be six mares of varying colors, five adorned with something upon their necks, and one wearing what seemed to be a crown.
A small hole appeared in the top of the shield to let the convoy through, and soon the entire host was hovering slightly above the shield. Mesmerized by the event, with no idea as to what was about to happen, Tristan’s eyes were locked on to the group. After a short while the mares began to glow, and strange lights bounded from their forms.
They were levitated into the air, hovering above the chariot without using wings, and a light so bright that it hurt Tristan’s eyes even from his distant vantage point encompassed the group. Suddenly, a gigantic rainbow erupted from the mares, shooting high up into the sky and coming crashing down on the army below.
It’s a giant...rainbow? Their secret weapon is a rainbow...a freakin’ rainbow…why am I not surprised?
As the rainbow hit the ground it expanded in an emanation in all directions from where it hit. It expanded through the shield and washed over Tristan, giving him an incredibly strange warm feeling that affected his entire form. Though he knew he very well might die, for some reason Tristan wasn’t afraid of the feeling. Then, even more quickly than it happened, it was over.
For the briefest of moments, nothing happened. Then, chaos ensued. The entire army turned on itself, erupting in a cacophony of every sound imaginable. Many of the great beasts immediately attacked those next to them, and the sounds of death joined the sounds of confusion. Tristan briefly felt elated, as he saw all of the creatures beginning to attack each other, but then he noticed something changing.
It was as if a wave washed over the horde, as the army calmed down, first from those farthest away from the city, and quickly those closest to the city. Then there was silence once more, as all fighting was stopped. This silence was soon broken by a single screech, coming from the direction of the mountain that Canterlot rested upon.
Some winged creature, colored perfectly to match the rock it clung to, sprang forth from its hiding place on the side of the mountain. As it flew through the air its rough exterior rapidly pulsated with color, keeping it nearly perfectly in tune with its environment with less than a second of delay. It rushed towards the large group of ponies that still hovered above the shield, and immediately went for the mares they protected.
Tristan felt his mouth fall agape as he saw it reach its mark in the confusion, snatching up the orange mare from the carriage with its gigantic claws. The guards, quickly coming to their senses, all immediately took after the monster. The chariot was quickly taken back down through the hole, though the cyan mare it held sped off of it in the direction of the monster.
Tristan could hear the screams of terror from where he stood, as the creature tightened its grasp on the pony and crimson blood rained down on the shield from above. Before her screams were silenced, however, the entirety of the pegasus forces were upon it. All manner of blades cut into the beast at once, provoking a terrible screech of pain. The mare was dropped, though she didn’t fall far before being caught by the same cyan mare that came from the chariot.
Unable to fight off such a tremendous number of foes, the spawn was quickly slain. Its great mass impacted bluntly on the shield below, and it slowly slid off, leaving behind a thick trail of white blood. The cyan pegasus stayed hovering in place in the air, obviously distraught over the orange mare she carried. Soon the other pegasi ushered her into the shield, and the hole was closed.
The spectacle finally over, Tristan turned to look at those that surrounded him. The normally stone faced guards had their emotions plain upon their faces: various looks of despair, sadness, or outright terror. A few let frightened exclamations escape their lips, and none looked nearly as stoic as they were before.
“Tristan. Tristan!” Noble shouted, gaining Tristan’s attention from the scene around them. “We need to go!” he commanded. Tristan noticed that Krik and Lore were both already heading towards the castle, and hurried to join them. With nary a word between them, they made their way back up to the castle. Their journey was far from silent, though, as crowds of ponies billowed out from their homes. Many pointed towards the blood that was smeared on the shield high above them, exchanged thoughts with those around them, or simply blubbered incoherently.
They were able to fight their way through the crowd, with Noble leading the group, barking out commands to make way. Eventually they made it to the castle, only to find it in chaos as well. Ponies, guards and civilians alike, ran this way and that, and others babbled to each other openly in the halls. All the while a feeling of panic, ignited by the initial debacle and stoked from the reactions of the ponies around him, had overtaken Tristan. He was able to keep himself with the group, but adrenaline involuntarily pumped through his veins, urging him to give in and panic.
Eventually they found their way to Krik’s room, where Noble and Lore told Tristan and Krik to wait until they came back. Before either could protest, the two were off, leaving Tristan and Krik to wait. Remembering the stallion that accosted him not long ago, Tristan wasn’t about to begrudge a safe haven in such a time of upheaval, and gladly joined Krik in his quarters.
“So...is this it, then?” Tristan asked Krik, who was standing watch over the closed door, as if expecting some enemy to breach it. “If that was their big plan, and they really can’t fight off the spawn, what hope is there? We’re done for!” he lamented, letting panic get the best of him for a moment.
Krik stood silent for a moment before responding. “There is one hope left for us, Tristan. All is not yet lost,” he said calmly. “Perhaps now Lore will see that there is no other choice.”
“What the Hell are you talking about? Is this that thing you were going on about when we came to get you?” Tristan asked.
“So you heard that, did you? Yes. It is something that may only be done by myself. Though, perhaps, there is one other…” Krik responded, turning to face Tristan.
“Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” Tristan said.
“Very well then,” Krik said, turning back to the door and becoming silent.
After a short while Tristan burst out again. “Alright, tell me! I didn’t mean that seriously!”
Krik turned back around and though Tristan couldn’t really read his face, he could have sworn Krik was messing with him intentionally. “Have you been told what I’ve been doing this past month, Tristan?”
“No. Lore hasn’t been telling me anything. It’s been kind of annoying, really…” Tristan responded.
“I have been out doing field work, so to speak. I wished for a more active role in learning about the circumstances of these rifts, and I was granted a chance to have one,” Krik began, still watching the door. “I have had the chance to personally slay scores of spawn on the borders of Equestria, and I have learned a great deal about the tactics our enemy employs. However, there was one particularly important thing that I learned.”
“In one unfortunate battle, the ponies that accompanied me were all slain. I fought off the remainder of the spawn without difficulty, but I found myself alone. Not wishing to return to Canterlot quite yet, I continued with my endeavors. One night I came across a company of spawn and prepared myself for a fight. However, it did not come.”
“I had set myself in the path of my enemies, but when they came upon me, they did not fight. Instead, they all continued past me, some even diverting their paths to not coincide with me. It was as if they didn’t even notice me. It seemed that without ponies around, they were not hostile,” Krik finished, finally turning back around to face Tristan.
“So what you’re saying is...they wouldn’t fight you? But they were fighting you earlier, weren’t they?” Tristan asked.
“Indeed,” Krik said with a nod. “Upon returning to Canterlot I divulged this information to Lore. His hypothesis is that as the spawn are so varied, they cannot distinguish other spawn as friend or foe. Instead, they are hostile to specific races.”
“So like a blacklist, instead of a whitelist…” Tristan mused. “So you’re saying that as long as we’re not with ponies, or other things they’re trying to kill, they won’t attack us? Shouldn’t that thing recognize us, though?”
“I believe so, and I am unsure of why they don’t seem to recognize us. Perhaps the influence exerted upon them is not always total, and they do things automatically. Given the evidence, we cannot be sure,” Krik answered.
So if I ditched the ponies, I’d be safe...but then, there’s plenty of dangerous stuff other than rift spawn, I’m sure. And it’s not like I can just abandon everyone now. Other than that just being a dick move in general, they’re still my best and only hope at possibly getting home. Still, knowing I won’t get hunted down by spawn if I run is pretty comforting.
“Well, that’s good to know and all, but how is that our last hope? I mean, it may be for us, sure, but we can’t just leave the ponies to get slaughtered,” Tristan said, noticing that he was still standing and taking a seat.
“It’s quite simple, actually. We have the ability to go as we please through enemy territory. We may address the problem at the source,” Krik responded, not taking his eyes off Tristan.
“At the source? So the spawn have a base or something now?” Tristan asked, befuddled.
“They may, but that was not the intent of my statement. If we are able to find it, we may be able to neutralize the source of the control. We need to kill whatever it is that attempted to control us,” Krik answered.
Tristan groaned as he realized what Krik was getting at. “‘We’...you want me to come along for this? What good could I even be?”
“You may do as you will, Tristan. But there are many things that may go wrong with such a task. Given that if I fail you will be just as badly off as I, why not join me and exert some control over your own destiny?” Krik said.
I told myself I wouldn’t get involved in any of this crap again. I just...don’t want to get hurt, or die...but he’s right, isn’t he? What am I going to do, go live in the wilderness away from ponies for the rest of my life? Live with passing up my chance to help make something better? I don’t want to be a coward...but I don’t want to die, and this sounds crazy dangerous…
Before Tristan could respond to Krik’s offer, there was a knock at the door. Krik called for the visitor to enter, and Lore stepped in, looking disheveled.
“She’s alright, thank Celestia…” Lore said, closing the door behind him and leaning up against it. “The element of honesty, Applejack, the one that got attacked: she’s going to live…”
“Wait, so the elements can do that again? We don’t have to go on a suicide mission?” Tristan asked excitedly, perking up immediately.
“No, they’re not going to...wait, did you say suicide mission?” Lore said, looking to Krik. “Don’t you go dragging him into this! Do you even know what you’re looking for? At best, you’d find nothing and come back without having accomplished anything!”
“Lore,” Krik said, his voice incredibly even and devoid of emotion. “Your elements have failed. This city will fall. Those facts are not disputed, are they?” he asked, while Lore remained silent. “If the spawn have their way, chaos will reign, and I shall never return to my hive. Your kind will be eradicated, and Tristan here will live his life alone. This is the only option for us.”
Lore stood there for a long while with a slight grimace upon his face. Eventually, he sighed. “Very well. It’s not like I could have stopped you in the first place, anyway...but we’re going to make sure you’re ready first, alright? We’re going to need to plan this out so that you’ve got the best possible chance of success,” he said, sounding defeated.
“That is acceptable,” Krik said, turning away from Lore and back to Tristan. “And so I ask of you once more, Tristan: will you join me?”
Tristan looked to Lore for guidance but found none in the harrowed stallion’s face. Thoughts buzzed through his head, countless scenarios playing through his mind, but he came to an unhappy realization in the end. Krik was right, and he didn’t see any other way. “Alright,” he said in monotone, steeling himself for more hardship. “I’ll do it.”
Tristan decided to stay in his old room at the castle for the rest of the night, afraid to go home. Lore had assured him that Shauku would be told where he was so that the colt wouldn’t worry, and so he sat in his room, listening to the sounds coming from outside.
The initial panic that was roused by the ineffectiveness of the elements and the fall of one of their number was slowly dying down. Tristan wondered what kind of lies the princesses must have been telling their subjects to keep them hopeful and manageable, but didn’t really care so long as the city was relatively safe for him again the next day.
More than anything, a sense of despair and anger coursed through him now. Despair at the imminent loss of what life he had managed to make in Canterlot, and anger at the hand life had dealt him. Hardship after hardship had plagued him, and he doubted that he’d make it through the new task he had set before himself. With those cheerful thoughts, Tristan resigned himself to sleep, wondering how many nights he might have left.
Tristan awoke early the next morning, his stomach rumbling as he wistfully recalled memories of breakfast in bed served by Nightingale. It seemed no such feast was to appear before him today, and so he hoisted himself out of bed to tidy himself up and await Lore’s all-clear to leave the castle.
He didn’t have to wait long, as Lore walked, uninvited, into his room while he stood looking out the window. “It should be alright for you to leave if you want, Tristan, but it’s still not completely safe out there for you.” Lore said flatly.
“Was it ever, really?” Tristan dryly mused as he turned to face the unicorn, who was red in the eyes from an apparent lack of sleep. “I have some potions on me in case I get attacked, so I’m not going to let myself live what time I’ve got left in fear of ponies that are out to get me.”
“You say that like it’s a foregone conclusion…” Lore noted. “I’m not saying that what you’re going to be doing will be safe, but in reality, you might just be safer outside fortified cities than inside them at this point.”
“Yeah, that’s comforting,” Tristan said, slowly stretching and making his way out the door. “For now, I just want to talk to Shauku and see to my shop. Just come get me when you need me.”
Before Tristan could leave, Lore raised a hoof to stop him. “Wait, there is...one other thing,” he said uncomfortably. “Most ponies aren’t going to be told until later today, but...now that the elements have failed, the evacuation is going to happen.”
“What? Why?” Tristan asked.
“That shield isn’t invincible, you know,” Lore began. “With how many spawn are out there now, I doubt it would hold for very long. If we started the evacuation when they started attacking, it’s doubtful that the entire city could get out before the shield was destroyed. So, we’re starting now.”
“How would it even help, though? Instead of having a bunch of ponies inside a fortified city, you’d have a bunch of ponies wandering in a giant unorganized mass across open ground. That just sounds stupid!” Tristan asserted.
“There are plans for that. I’ll just leave it at that for now,” Lore responded. “For now, just organize your things as well as you can. You’re only going to be able to take what you can carry, so make it count.”
Tristan didn’t respond, but felt a twang of extra hate at the rift spawn for making him lose all of his new things. He knew that, compared to everything else, the loss of material possessions was nothing, but that knowledge didn’t stop him from not wanting to abandon his nice things.
“I’ll just be off, then. Thanks for the heads-up, I suppose…” Tristan said, moving for the door. Lore nodded somberly to him as he left, and he wound his way through the familiar castle to the entrance.
As he stepped outside he saw that the streets were populated, but only with a ghost of their former commerce. As he walked home he cast sorrowful glances at places he’d been to: the sandwich shop he frequented, the furniture store where he bought his bed, the candy store he stopped at the first day he acquired his freedom. He knew those days were already over, and hated the spawn all that much more for taking them from him.
It’s just not fair...none of this is! Not for me, and not for any of these ponies! All my time here, what did I do wrong? What have I done to deserve this? Nothing! But that damn...whatever it is, that thing that’s controlling the spawn, is screwing everything up! I really hope Krik and I find it, and I hope I can run it through myself.
Left to his own devices, Tristan was just getting angry about everything, but he found himself back at his shop before he could work himself up too much. As he opened the door he spied Shauku faithfully attending the counter on his own, but the moment he caught eyes with the colt Shauku’s post was abandoned, as he rushed to meet Tristan.
“Tristan! You’re back!” he cried, obviously overjoyed at Tristan’s return. Tristan thought his demeanor was pretty similar to that of a dog meeting its master after a long day at work, and found the comparison adorable.
“Yeah, I’m back. Hope things didn’t go too badly while I was away,” Tristan said as he smiled down at Shauku.
“It was scary!” Shauku bluntly asserted. “When you didn’t come back yesterday I left to go find out what was happening myself, but nopony would tell me!”
Yeah...I know just how that goes.
“Then, when I came back here, I heard ponies shouting about the elements of harmony! I ran outside to see what was going on, and I saw them! The elements!” Shauku said, somewhere between excited and scared with his story.
“Heh, yeah, I saw it all, Shauku. Sorry I couldn’t have been there with you when it happened. But I heard that the one that got hurt is going to be okay, so there’s that at least,” Tristan said, not up to hearing a retelling of the last day’s events.
“Oh, that’s good! It looked like she got hurt bad!” Shauku commented. “So now everything will be going back to normal, right?” he asked, voice full of hope.
“Err, well…” Tristan said hesitantly. At the look from Shauku’s expectant eyes he felt he need to continue. “I...don’t think so. I’m just going to be straight with you. It’s not over yet. The evacuation is going to happen soon, but don’t spread the word just yet.”
I feel kinda bad for being so blunt, but what good would lying to him be? It’s not like he won’t have to leave with everyone else. What good is false hope, especially if it’ll only last a day or two?
The hope immediately faded from Shauku’s eyes. “Oh,” he said softly. “Are we at least gonna be okay?”
“Sure we are,” Tristan answered as reassuringly as he could, despite his own misgivings. “Plans are already made, and those spawn won’t be catching us. We’ll be just fine.”
Shauku didn’t look particularly reassured, but he put on a brave face regardless. “Alright then! What do we need to do?” he said determinedly.
“We’re just waiting for now. Though, it wouldn’t hurt to get ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We can’t take everything, but we ought to bring some of the lighter alchemy equipment and as many potions as we can. At least you get a chance to bring something along this time, right?” Tristan said, wincing at the end as he realized his lack of tact.
Shauku’s gaze fell even lower than it was before and sighed. “Yeah…” he said, determination apparently lost already.
Tristan raised his hand and began to say something reassuring, but couldn’t think of anything. So, he let his hand fall and Shauku slowly trotted upstairs.
Damn, I’ve never been great with kids, but...damn. I am not cut out for this crap. But if not me, who? Someone’s gotta look after the little guy, and I can’t deny that he’s quite the help. Still, I wish there was someone else to talk to him at a time like this…
After thinking about what troubles might come from having an open shop today, and the imminent futility of bothering to earn money, Tristan flipped the open sign to closed. As the day was still young he sat behind the counter, idly watching ponies walk past the shop. A few peered in, apparently confused on why the shop was closed, but most just trotted by with their heads hung low. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, the sun was still shining brightly outside, unhampered by the translucent shield.
Today would be a wonderful day for rain…
The rest of the day passed slowly as Tristan idled in his shop. Shauku never came down from upstairs, presumably because he was sleeping. Tristan spent his time reminiscing of the times he had over his short, but relatively pleasant, stay. He ran his fingers over the cool wood of the counter and shelves, examined potions that lined the walls, and slowly cleaned his equipment. When he could think of nothing else to do, he retired upstairs.
As he suspected, Shauku was fast asleep on his small bed. Not tired enough for sleep just yet, Tristan fixed himself a small meal and laid himself upon his bed. Any cheery thoughts his subconscious threatened him with were instantly quashed by reality, and he spent some time just feeling sorry for himself. Eventually, despite the earliness of the day, the comfortableness of his bed managed to draw him to sleep.
Tristan woke with a start to a loud crashing noise. He jerked up in bed, rubbed his eyes groggily, and saw that it was already night. On the floor lay shards of broken glass from the window, as well as a stone brick with a note on it.
Well aren’t they original…
“Tristan! What’s that?” Shauku yelled, startling Tristan, who had forgotten he was there.
“Ah, shit! Err, it seems to be a message. Mailman sure is getting brash these days…” Tristan said, carefully avoiding the broken glass as he reached for the brick. “Let’s see here…`You are not welcome. Get out.`” he read calmly.
“Oh no! What are we gonna do?” Shauku asked fearfully.
Tristan stood for a moment as he read and re-read the note, stress and anger swiftly boiling up from inside of him. “What are we gonna do? What are we gonna do?” he said with increasing loudness. “I tell you what we’re going to do! We’re not gonna give a shit!” he declared.
“We’re...what?” Shauku asked hesitantly.
“Do you know what this means?” Tristan asked, to which Shauku slowly shook his head. “It means there are ponies out there that likely want me dead! And that is, well, not really a surprise! In fact, I already knew that!” Tristan exclaimed.
“Are you...feeling alright?” Shauku questioned, apparently uneasy at Tristan’s demeanor.
“Alright? Fine! I’m fine! I’m just at a point in my life where I get what amounts to a death threat and I don’t give a shit! That sounds pretty fine to me! Just dandy!” Tristan said, hysteria creeping into his voice. “This is exactly where I want to be in life! Oh yeah!” he finished, waving the brick in the air randomly.
Shauku shrunk away from Tristan, seemingly frightened of him now. “I, uh...maybe you should lay back down?” he ventured. “You’re scaring me…”
Tristan spun in a needlessly dramatic fashion to face Shauku directly. He looked at the colt beneath him, fear evident in Shauku’s eyes. Slowly, he relaxed, his mind coming back to the moment from wherever it just was. “I’m...I’m sorry…” he said meekly, plopping back down on his bed as the sudden energy rapidly drained from him. “I just, never really thought I’d ever go through something like this…”
Shauku stood silent for a moment, before gingerly making his way over to Tristan, avoiding the broken glass, and hopping onto the bed. “It’s okay...I’m scared too,” he said softly.
Tristan looked over to Shauku and their eyes met. “Yeah. I know,” he said, eventually putting his hand on Shauku’s back and pulling the colt in for a hug. Shauku returned it, and the two sat there for a moment, absorbing each other's warmth. Though it felt like he was hugging a dog or the like more than anything, it was exactly what Tristan needed.
“You’re a good kid, you know that?” Tristan said to Shauku as they stopped hugging. “A good kid.”
“Thanks. And you’re a good…” Shauku said, trailing off as he searched for the right word.
“I get it. Thanks,” Tristan replied. "What say you we spend some time doing something fun before we have to leave? I think we could both use something to raise our spirits.”
“Yeah!” Shauku exclaimed, his demeanor changed in an instant. "Oh, I know the perfect game! Wait here!” he said before dashing off to a small chest he kept for the toys he bought with his wages. Tristan felt a smile creep onto his face at the colt’s sudden enthusiasm.
They spent the rest of the night enjoying themselves, playing several different games of Shauku’s choosing. By the time the morning came both of their spirits were raised, and though Tristan was still painfully aware of what was to come, for the moment, he allowed himself to be happy.
However, the moment wasn’t fated to last, and the peace and simplicity of night was broken by a knock at the door. Expecting some early customer who wanted him to open up, Tristan went downstairs to shoo them away. However, it was no customer that came knocking, but rather Lore. Tristan let him in, noticing that he came with a large bundle wrapped in cloth.
“Tristan,” Lore said in curt greeting as he walked into the shop. “I have your things here for you, as well as some extra equipment.”
Shauku appeared from the stairs, looking up to Lore and to the package before Tristan had a chance to respond. “Oh. Hey there Mr. Virgin,” he said innocently, before retreating back upstairs at Tristan’s gesturing for him to leave. Lore’s face reddened, but he continued regardless.
“Have you been giving any thought as to what provisions you’ll require for your journey?” Lore asked flatly, as he unwrapped the bundle to show Tristan’s armor and pack.
“No...was I supposed to? Isn’t that more your job?” Tristan replied, shuffling around the room to get a better look at what was inside the pack.
“Yes, of course…” Lore said absentmindedly, looking as though he was thinking of something. “I have some more things to take care of in preparation for the evacuation, so I’m afraid I need to go. There will be a pony by later to enchant any items you plan on taking with you for your task, so get them ready. I’ll be back some time after that.”
“Enchant?” Tristan asked quizzically.
“Mmm, yes. Featherweight charm. It’ll help you quite a bit, since you’ll have a ways to walk. Now I must be off; try not to get into any trouble!” Lore said dismissively, leaving as he spoke.
“Bastard never gives me a chance to ask any questions…” Tristan muttered beneath his breath. “Hey Shauku! You can come down now!” he yelled in the direction of the stairs, at which Shauku instantly bounded down.
“What’d he bring you?” Shauku asked, picking up and prodding Tristan’s scaly breastplate.
“My combat gear, and some extra stuff apparently,” Tristan said, opening up the pack to peer inside. In addition to the mounds of rations and other basics that he expected, there was a small blue gem on a silver chain, an unassuming pair of boots, and some strange looking goggles. “This stuff could either be really disappointing, or really amazing...but I don’t think I should wear any of it until Lore tells me what’s up.”
Shauku didn’t seem to hear him, being too transfixed on the shiny sword that sat beside Tristan’s armor to listen. Before he could pick it up, however, Tristan’s arm shot out to stop him. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that,” Tristan said.
“I’ll be careful with it, I proooomise!” Shauku said pleadingly. Tristan merely shook his head, and Shauku dejectedly went back to examining his armor and shield. With Shauku thus distracted, and after picking up his sword to ensure it stayed safe, Tristan went around his shop and gathered up whatever he thought he might need.
The bulk of his provisions were potions of all colors and consistencies. While he had most of the types he wanted on hand, he decided to use some of his dwindling alchemy supplies to create a few of the more dangerous potions that he doubted would have been legal to sell. After experimentally stuffing his pack to make sure everything would fit, Tristan took to waiting.
Nothing happened for some time, so Tristan and Shauku fixed themselves something to eat. Then, there was another knock at the door. Waiting to be let in was a frightened looking unicorn mare, dark blue in coat and light blue in mane, and with what looked to be a picture of an explosion on her flank. Tristan opened the door and the mare swiftly let herself inside, eyes darting around as if she was looking for some unseen assailant.
“Uh...hey?” Tristan broached awkwardly. “I take it you were the one Lore was talking about?”
“Hmm? Yes. Yes! Of course,” the mare said joltingly. “Sorry, I’m just a little on edge...what with everything going on, you can never be too sure of when something is hiding right behind a counter waiting to attack you!’ she yelled, horn glowing threateningly.
“Wait, wait! I’m friendly!” Shauku yelled from behind the counter. “I don’t wanna come out, though!”
“Hey, stop that!” Tristan said forcibly. “Just do what you’re here to do and leave! I don’t want anything, or anyone, getting messed up in here!”
The mare’s ears instantly flattened to her skull as she looking dejectedly downwards. “Sorry…” she said, slowly trotting over to Tristan’s pack in a needlessly dramatic fashion. “Uhm, you need to get out whatever I’m supposed to enchant.”
Tristan moved to his pack and unloaded all of the provisions he had selected. After confirming that it was everything, the mare’s horn lit up once more, as did all of Tristan’s things. There was a small popping noise and flash of light, and then it was over.
“Hey, it worked!” the mare said happily.
“What, you didn’t think it was going to work? What did you think was going to happen?” Tristan asked, becoming more and more uncomfortable with the mare by the moment.
“Oh, nothing! Nothing at all. Go ahead, pick one of them up!” she replied.
Tristan eyed his gear for a moment before deciding to comply. Picking up one of the potions, he found that its weight couldn’t have been more than a tenth of what it was previously. “Hey, it did work! Thanks!” he exclaimed, marvelling at how light it felt.
“You’re welcome! Now, I’d better leave before anything bad happens. Bye!” the mare said, giving a strangely large smile and rushing out of the door.
Is Lore working on a budget here or something? I’d like to think that there are some better ponies around to do something like that with volatile, dangerous potions...but I suppose it worked out.
“Is she gone?” Shauku asked from behind the counter.
“Yeah. She was a strange one, wasn’t she?” Tristan replied, re-packing his things. “I don’t know when we’re going to have to leave, but you ought to get your stuff ready too. I think this is going to be all I’ll be taking, so feel free to take any potions left on the shelves. I’ll help you with some of the taller ones.”
Shauku nodded dutifully and trotted upstairs to pack. Tristan hefted his large pack onto his back, finding it to weigh about as much as an empty backpack.
I could get used to this! Why didn’t we get this done for those earlier trips? I sure wouldn’t have minded it then!
A few more hours passed, and despite the circumstances, Tristan began to feel rather bored. He was all set for another adventure, and yet all he could do was sit and twiddle his thumbs. It made the whole thing seem rather unreal to him, like some distant obligation that had no bearing on him yet. He wanted to go talk to Nightingale, fearing that it may be his last chance to do so, though never did, as he had a dreadful feeling that if he was to leave his shop someone would try to harm him. Then, in the dying moments of the day, with as much warning as ever, Lore was suddenly at the door once more. Tristan let him in, finding the stallion to be as haggard as ever.
“Tristan,” Lore began seriously, not even waiting for a greeting. “We need to go. Now.”
“What? Right now? Why?” Tristan asked, his heart speeding up as reality caught up with him again.
“Scouts have reported another large bulk of spawn on their way to the army already outside the city. This could be the attack we’ve been waiting for,” Lore said worriedly. “We need to get in the tunnels before anypony else, since it won’t be safe for you with the masses. Shauku can come too, but we need to leave now.”
Tristan stood in silence for a moment before calling for Shauku to get down from upstairs. When the colt found his way downstairs he began to equip his armor and backpack. “It’s time to go, Shauku,” he said as he fit on his boots. “Get your stuff.”
Shauku didn’t respond, but his expression grew serious and he went to get his things. Tristan glanced outside to see that the sun must have been setting, as the shadows had grown longer and the magical lights that lined the streets had lit. He had always enjoyed the nights here, when the hustle and bustle of the city began to die down. Despite the circumstances, that day was no different.
“Hey, Lore?” Tristan said as he finished donning his armor and began rummaging through his backpack to double check everything. “These things you brought me, what are they?” he asked, drawing out the boots, pendant, and goggles.
“Didn’t I tell you about those?” Lore said impatiently, obviously ready to get moving. Tristan shook his head and Lore sighed. “Those are all magical, and very expensive. So don’t ruin them!”
“I figured they were magical, but magical how?" Tristan asked, picking up the boots. “These must have been made just for me, unless you have something else around that wears boots, but I wasn’t sure if I should wear them yet. What do they do?”
Lore looked at the waning light outside, then up the stairs to where Shauku had disappeared, then sighed again. “The boots will keep you comfortable in hot or cold, the goggles will let you see in the night, and the pendant will expedite healing. They’re all safe to wear, so you might as well put them on. Now we need to get going!” he said forcibly.
“I’m almost ready!” Shauku’s voice resounded from above them.
So I have night vision goggles...some magical healing factor...and some crazy boots of endurance? Score! I seriously wish I could have had these earlier! This is like superhero gear or something!
“Damn, well thanks for this stuff!” Tristan exclaimed, eagerly putting on the boots, pendant, and goggles. As soon as he put on the goggles all color was drained from the world. He looked out past Lore and saw nothing but black and white without the slightest hint of color, but he noticed there were also no shadows. As far as he could see, darkness didn’t impede his sight at all. “This is so coooool!” Tristan said, looking at his hands in awe. The boots and pendant, however, didn’t seem to be doing anything.
“They are not toys!” Lore shouted suddenly, at which Tristan shrank back and pushed the goggles off of his eyes.
“Alright, chill out!” Tristan said defensively. Before things could heat up any more, Shauku came downstairs, with saddlebags stuffed to the brim.
“Ready! Let’s go!” Shauku announced, his hooves energetically pacing the floor.
“It’s about time,” Lore said, breaking his attention away from Tristan. “Follow me.”
The three left the shop for the last time, Tristan locking it out of habit. As they left he cast a glance back to it, the clean windows and pristine sign filling him with a final swell of pride at what he had. There was no time for reminiscing, however, as they wound their way through the familiar Canterlot streets.
Shortly before reaching the castle, their path diverged. They made their way off of the nice paved path onto a dirt one, towards the mountain that Canterlot rested upon. Despite the apparent lack of anything interesting around, several guards stood stationed at odd places. Soon they came to what looked to be nothing more than a dark, gaping hole in the mountainside.
“Well, here we are!” Lore said, sounding relieved. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Tristan stopped, eyeing the dark opening. “That’s it? That’s the big escape plan? Some dark tunnel?” he said skeptically. “There’s no way the spawn won’t just be waiting for us wherever we come out, anyway…”
“I told you, things are taken care of,” Lore said knowingly. “Now come on!” With that, he cantered over to the opening and went inside. However, the moment he entered, he disappeared.
“Wha-?” Shauku said, confused. “Where did he go?”
Tristan ran his palm over his face and shook his head. “Why can’t he just give me the whole plan for once?” he muttered under his breath, as he trudged towards the opening. “C’mon, Shauku. It’s just some magical something-or-other, just like everything else around here.”
He strode confidently into the opening, finding himself to be vindicated by a brightly lit passage behind it. Looking out he could see the world perfectly clearly, so whatever illusion was in place must have been one way. Shauku still stood outside, looking somewhat hesitant. After a moment of deliberation he galloped towards the opening at full speed, not stopping until he was safely through.
Lore conspicuously cleared his throat. “Are we ready to continue?” he asked, leading them farther down the tunnel.
The tunnel itself was incredibly wide, and though the walls were rough, the floor was even. Shortly after they began to descend, the walls turned from plain stone into crystal of some sort, with sharp edges protruding everywhere. Tristan had the urge to ask Lore about the place, but reconsidered when he recalled Lore’s mood. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel to see a gigantic chamber, easily a thousand feet long and half that wide, below them.
Inside the vast chamber were hundreds of ponies. Some of them were guards, while others were mostly all tending to strange features that lined the walls of the chamber. Near one such group stood Krik, who was speaking to some nervous-looking ponies. The crystal on the walls had been carved to create huge circular openings, at least twice as tall as Tristan was, extending a few inches into the wall. Each opening had strange text circling around it, which was conspicuously unreadable, despite the translation effect Tristan knew was still in effect around him. The size and complexity of the operation was enough to boggle Tristan’s mind.
“I told you things were taken care of, didn’t I?” Lore said with a slight grin. Tristan gave him a noncommittal shrug in return, while Shauku just kept looking around the place in awe. “We’re going to make the spawn think that we’re just taking a tunnel out. However, in reality, everypony is coming down here. We’re going to temporarily re-activate the old portal network, dispersing ourselves all over Equestria.”
“Well, damn…” Tristan said, impressed. “So, where are we going? And when?”
“We’re not going to be staying long, just long enough for the final preparations to be made for your task, but it’ll be to Stalliongrad,” Lore replied. “Ponies there have had some experience with you in the past, so it’s likely that you and Krik won’t cause a riot. We can’t go just yet, though, since the portals aren’t active.”
“Stalliongrad…” Tristan said, memories flooding back to him.
Right...that was where I fought Mecha-Bull, almost killed Iron, and nearly died. Funny, it just seems so long ago...like a lifetime away. Back before I knew anything about ponies, and was just trying to survive...I sure have come a long way, haven’t I? I can’t say I expected any of the stuff that happened since then to happen, that’s for sure.
“What do we do until then?” Tristan asked.
“There’s nothing much to do, so just stay out of trouble. Do you see Krik over by that portal there?” he answered, pointing a hoof to Krik. “That’s going to be the one to Stalliongrad, so you should stay by that one. Other than that, just please don’t make a mess of anything.”
“You say that like I’m always causing trouble. Just because things are happening to me it doesn’t mean I’m the one causing them to happen…” Tristan said. “But alright. Shall, we, Shauku?” he finished, looking down to the awestruck colt beside him.
“Oh, um, yeah!” Shauku replied, gathering his wits. “I haven’t seen Krik since we got here!”
With that the two made their way over to where Krik stood examining the portal. Tristan waved to him and he returned the gesture before going back to his study. Thinking better of causing any more commotion than needed, Tristan took a seat on the ground next to Krik and bade Shauku join him.
There, they sat for some time, watching the ponies go back and forth every which way. Large waiting areas marked off by rope were set up next to each portal, with signs designating where they were to at their entrances. Before long, noises could be heard coming from the tunnel, and a teeming mass of ponies billowed forth from the opening, their cacophonous din breaking the relatively steady sound of work.
For a while Tristan entertained himself by watching the ponies, but quickly grew depressed from the spectacle. Many of them were crying, looking for friends and loved ones, or shaking from fear. They didn’t stop coming, and soon the gigantic waiting area was nearly filled with ponies.
Finally, the hordes of ponies stopped flowing from the tunnel. An explosion was heard from farther up the tunnel, and a hush fell over the crowd for a moment. Then, princess Celestia came from the tunnel, flying above the crowds. As she flew the portals each sparked to life, a strange blue swirling mass coming into being in each of the prepared indentations.
“Alright, we need to go!” Lore said directly behind Tristan, who jumped at the sudden noise.
“Shit! Don’t sneak up on me in here!” Tristan said, his hand measuring his racing heartbeat. “I think Celestia is going to do a speech or something; we should stay!”
“After she’s done the rest of the ponies are going through, so no!” Lore said firmly. “We need to be clear of the exit by the time that happens, so we need to go now!”
Tristan grumbled his displeasure, but obeyed nonetheless. With a look to Lore, Shauku, and Krik, he stepped up to the portal. He hesitated for a moment, staring into the swirling blue light. Lore gave a sigh, stepped up beside Tristan, and resolutely went forward. Sure enough, his entire form disappeared through the portal as if it was any other opening.
Well...here goes…
Tristan steeled himself, closed his eyes, and stepped through. He didn’t feel anything at all, and so opened his eyes, finding himself to be safely through. He was inside of a large building that was filled with ponies. Right next to him Lore stood impatiently tapping his hoof, motioning for him to step away from the portal. As he did Shauku and Krik stepped through together, Krik holding Shauku’s hoof. Immediately after they came through, Shauku wrenched his hoof away from Krik and pretended it wasn’t there in the first place.
“We’re not done yet. Come on!” Lore said. He quickly lead the others out of the building and onto the streets of Stalliongrad. Unlike the last time Tristan visited it, there was no snow to be seen, and the air was as comfortable as it was in Canterlot. However, he did notice Shauku shivering slightly beside him.
They walked in silence, as the ponies on the streets around them all gawked or shrunk back in fear. Tristan had been becoming accustomed to at least some ponies being friendly, so going back to square one was grating. However, he knew it wouldn’t be for long, and so he kept his mouth shut and his head down.
“Now, as to where you’ll be staying, we needed somewhere to keep you two away from the rest of the refugees,” Lore began. “So, we asked the ponies you came to know here if they knew of anypony who would take you two in, Tristan.”
“You mean Iron and Motley?” Tristan asked, his spirits perking up at the thought of ponies that didn’t necessarily hate or fear him. “And where would Krik be staying?”
“Yes, those two,” Lore said. “And Krik will be staying with you.”
“But what about me?” Shauku chimed in. “Where am I gonna stay?”
Lore looked to Shauku with a trace of pity in his eyes. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to stay with the rest of the refugees. These two are going to be doing some things that it would be best to keep quiet, so the less ponies, or zebras, that know, the better.”
At that, Shauku stopped in his tracks. “But I don’t wanna go with the rest of the refugees! Tristan’s my friend!” he said resolutely, stomping his hoof to the ground.
Damn, if that isn’t adorable...I can understand where Lore is coming from, and really, he’s right. Even if I like Shauku, it’s best he stays out of this. He’ll be safer with the others, anyway…
Shauku looked to Tristan for support, and Tristan averted his gaze. “I’m sorry Shauku, but it looks like it’s out of my hands…” Tristan said, still not making eye contact.
“But I...I don’t want to be alone again!” Shauku cried, tears welling up in his eyes.
Oh damn, think quick, something, c’mon…
Tristan could feel himself getting somewhat emotional as well, but did his best to maintain a stoic face. “I’m not going to be gone forever, you know. When all of this is over with, I’ll see about opening a new shop, and you can be my assistant again. How’s that sound?” he said, putting on a smile.
Shauku stood there for a moment, apparently thinking. “How long are you gonna be?” he finally asked.
“I’m not really sure,” Tristan said, looking to Lore, who stayed silent. “But when I’m done, I’ll find you.” Shauku apparently wasn’t convinced and stood looking at Tristan, as if scrutinizing him. Tristan sighed and reached into his pack. “Tell you what. I’ll let you hang on to this until then. If I don’t come back for you, it’s yours.” He produced his fat sack of coins from his pack and tossed it to Shauku.
While he had hoped that Shauku’s eyes would light up, they didn’t. Instead, he just looked sad. “Alright…” he said, picking up the sack and hefting it into his own bags.
The four stood there awkwardly for a moment longer, as a small crowd of whispering ponies began to form in a perimeter around them. Finally, Lore gave yet another sigh and began leading them forward once more.
“As I was saying...we asked your two ‘friends’ if they knew anypony who would take you in. One of them, a Miss ‘Iron Striker’, volunteered,” Lore said.
“We’re going to Iron’s?” Tristan asked, recalling his memories from her home. He remembered breaking in to search for food and supplies, and the debacle that followed. “She’s really willing to let us stay after everything that happened?”
“Well, she is being compensated, of course…” Lore said in justification. “But yes. Being on the outskirts of town, her house is ideal, as you’ll be as far away from the public eye as possible. You’ll be staying there until the plans for your departure are complete, in, say, another week or so.”
“What do you know of this ‘Iron Striker’, Tristan?” Krik asked.
“Oh, she’s, err, nice, really. She and I had a bit of an...encounter, when I first got here, and I sorta have her to thank that I wasn’t killed. Her friend, Motley, was the one who gave me this pendant,” Tristan answered, fingering the small translation pendant which sat upon his chest, next to the newly acquired regeneration one.
“You will have to tell me this story in full later,” Krik said passively.
“Sure, it sounds like we’ll have long enough…” Tristan said. “It seems we do a lot of waiting, don’t you think?”
“Quite the contrary. I have been quite busy for most of my time here,” Krik said. “I have explored the land, slain scores of enemies, and learned much. My time has been anything but idle.”
“I suppose it must help that you heal wounds, like, instantly. I’ve spent far more time than I’d like recovering from injuries,” Tristan commented, now fingering his new pendant. “Hey Lore, will this thing work like that? If I lose an arm or something, will it just grow right back?”
“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Lore said with a chuckle. “It will simply speed up your natural healing processes. Wounds should heal more quickly, and you should be more resistant to infection and disease, but fatal wounds will still be fatal.”
“Oh…” Tristan said, disappointed. “Still cool, but not that cool.”
They finally arrived at their destination. Iron’s house was still familiar to Tristan’s mind, its image burned into his memories by the tumultuous emotions he associated with it. Lore approached the door, straightened his mane, and curtly knocked.
After a moment the door opened, revealing a small unicorn colt. “Mooooom!” the colt cried out, immediately shutting the door again.
That must be her kid, the one I smacked with that sword! I hope he doesn’t remember that…
The door quickly opened again, revealing Iron Striker. “Oh, you must be Virgin Lore!” she exclaimed. She proceeded to peer around him, a flash of recognition in her eyes as she spied Tristan, and a flash of fear as she saw Krik. She didn’t seem to notice Shauku at all next to the others.
“I’m afraid that I’m just going to have to drop these two off with you for now, Miss. I have some things I need to attend to,” Lore said. “I assure you, neither will cause you any harm. You have been briefed, correct?”
“Yes, of course!” Iron replied nervously. “One moment, please.” She shut the door in Lore’s face, and Tristan could hear her yelling something to her children inside. After a moment she opened the door back up, looking somewhat more flustered. “Alright, you two can come in now!”
Lore looked to Tristan and Krik, his expression a warning that no shenanigans would be tolerated. He then looked to Shauku, who was beginning to tear up again. “Come along, Shauku. I’ll take you to the others,” he said, trotting off in the opposite direction.
Shauku looked to Tristan. “Promise you’ll come back, okay?” he said pitifully.
Tristan looked him in the eyes, and then away. “I’ll try,” he said softly. Shauku stood watching him for a moment more, then bounded off to join Lore without a look back.
“Do you...want to come in?” Iron said uneasily.
“Yes. Thank you for your hospitality, Miss,” Krik said courteously. Iron seemed taken aback by the smoothness of his voice, but moved to allow them inside nonetheless.
They entered, and Tristan saw that the place was exactly the same as he remembered. From the entry he could see a hallway, kitchen, a living room, and a family room. Neither of Iron’s children could be seen, so Tristan surmised they had been locked away in their rooms for the time being.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable…” Iron said, motioning for them to go into the living room. “I’ll make us some tea, and we can talk about how things will work around here.”
Tristan and Krik both nodded, Tristan taking a seat on the couch while Krik stood by him. Iron came shortly with some refreshments balanced upon her back, which she set down on a table near them. “So,” she said in a casual voice that almost masked her nervousness. “How have you been, Tristan? I see you’ve gotten yourself a very nice set of armor there. You must be doing well for yourself.”
“I’ve been…” Tristan began, searching for a way to summarize his time in Equestria. “Well, it’s a bit complicated. I’m still alive, and for that I’m grateful.”
“Oh dear,” Iron said worriedly. “Things must have been rough for you. I had hoped that you’d be able to stay out of trouble, but I guess that’s not very likely for one of your…stature.”
Iron sighed and took a seat beside the two. Tristan noticed that she was avoiding eye contact with Krik, choosing instead to focus the majority of her attention on Tristan. Krik didn’t seem to mind being ignored, though, and stood patiently to the side.
“You said you wanted to talk about how things were going to happen around here, didn’t you?” Tristan said, attempting to restart the conversation.
“Yes, that’s right,” Iron replied. “I won’t lie to you. I have some doubts about the two of you staying here. Just please, be very careful around Buzz and Moon.”
“Those are?...” Tristan asked.
“My foals,” Iron answered. “If there’s anything you need me to pick up from the market for you just let me know and I’ll see what I can do. The government wasn’t stingy in their budgeting for you two, so it shouldn’t be any trouble at all. Besides that, I’ve been told to ask you two to stay indoors as much as possible. I can’t stop you from leaving, but I’ll do what I can to make staying here as pleasant for us all as possible.”
“You are very kind. Thank you, Miss Striker,” Krik chimed in. “I shall do my best to avoid disturbing the order of your home.”
Iron chanced a glance at Krik before looking back away. “Thank you,” she said softly, as if he would take offense to a loud voice. “I’ve prepared the guest room for you two, as best as I could at least. I’m not sure if you’ll fit in the bed, though…”
“Fret not. I require no special accommodations, merely adequate sustenance,” Krik said.
“Please, just relax a bit,” Tristan said, noticing that Iron was still very much on edge. “I’ve known Krik for a bit now, and I can promise you that he’s a good guy. I know he looks a bit scary, but give him a chance.”
“...A-alright,” Iron said, a look of determination suddenly setting in on her face as she turned to face Krik in full. “Well then, shall I show you to your room?”
Tristan and Krik both nodded in assent. Iron led them to their room, which Tristan noticed was the very same one that he woke up in after Iron knocked him out so long ago. The inside had been set up with two large beds and a single desk, leaving little open space. After showing them to their room Iron left the two to go check on her foals.
“It’s not the castle, but it’s not bad, eh Krik?” Tristan commented, sitting down on the bed to find that it was incredibly soft.
“It will do. We should not become too comfortable, however, as we shall be leaving soon,” Krik responded, climbing atop the other bed and folding his legs beneath him. “You mustn’t let yourself become softened from comforts, lest you be found lacking when you find yourself without them.”
“Or you could just take things easy for once and just, I don’t know, enjoy life a bit…” Tristan said sourly. “Look, I know we’re going to have this big thing in a few days. I get that we need to be ready for it. But for right now, I really don’t want to think about that. At least for a while, could you just lighten up a bit?”
“I do not ‘lighten up’, Tristan,” Krik responded neutrally. “However, if we are to be confined to this abode for some time, I suppose there is little sense in being too anxious over what is to come. For the time we shall not speak of our task, if you wish it.”
Urgh, I don’t get why Krik is getting to me...he’s not even doing anything wrong. I guess I’m just trying to ignore the future. Like, it’s real, and I know it’s real, but it just hasn’t “clicked” yet...funny, how even thinking about how something hasn’t “clicked” while knowing it will eventually doesn’t make it any more real. I’m not complaining, though…
Tristan took off his armor and proceeded to sit in silence for a while. Eventually Iron came back, announcing that dinner was ready. They left the room, finding a table set for six. Sitting at the end of it was Motley Trade, the unicorn Tristan had come to know during his previous visit.
“Tristan!” Motley said amiably. “Iron was just telling me about you two. It sounds like you’ve had quite the time out there, haven’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s one way of putting it,” Tristan replied, finding himself a chair as Krik selected a spot next to him. “This translation pendant you gave me has sure come in handy. Thanks again.”
Motley waved his hoof nonchalantly. “Think nothing of it. Least I could do after you helped out with that rampaging spawn! And I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, have we, Mr. Krik?” he finished, turning his attention to the formian.
“No, we have not. I am Krik, but I believe you already know as much,” Krik responded, watching Iron working in the kitchen nearby.
“And I’m Motley Trade. Good to meet you,” Motley responded with a smile.
“You sure weren’t so nice when we first met…” Tristan mumbled beneath his breath, though Motley apparently heard anyway.
“Those were completely different circumstances. You were an intruding rift spawn, which we thought were all mad beasts, that almost killed Iron. He’s a welcome guest. What do you expect?” Motley commented.
“Right. Sorry,” Tristan said quickly.
After Iron yelled for her foals to come to the table she served dinner. Her foals were unusually quiet, but continually stole glances at Krik and Tristan. Figuring them to be under orders to not cause a fuss, Tristan didn’t press the issue.
“So…” Tristan began, trying to start a conversation. “Do you have dinner here often, Motley?”
“Yes I do. Iron has been needing a lot of help lately, what with her foals and all, and I’ve been happy to help,” Motley responded.
“That’s awfully nice of you. At times like this, I’m sure your help has been invaluable,” Tristan said.
“I’m not sure what I would have done without him, to be honest,” Iron said. “I’ve had my hooves full just running this smithly lately; without any help there’s no way I could keep a household at the same time. But enough about me, you must have many more interesting stories to tell, I’m sure.”
The rest of the meal was spent with Tristan and Krik regaling the ponies with stories of their adventures, slightly censored for the foals. It seemed that Iron was quickly becoming accustomed to her two new guests, and soon the conversation was as lively as it could be. After dinner Tristan and Krik retired to their room, quickly falling asleep from the exhaustion of the day.
The next morning began with a commotion outside. As Tristan woke his heart skipped a beat, memories of the day Mecha-Bull attacked flashing before him. He quickly snapped himself out of that train of thought and brought himself into the moment, calming down as he remembered that Mecha-Bull had died long ago.
It was already morning, so Tristan decided to get up to see what was going on, fearing that rift spawn were already attacking the city. Krik was in the exact same sitting position atop his bed that he was when they spoke the previous night, and whether he was asleep or not was unclear. Ignoring him, lest he cause a panic due to an unconfirmed suspicion, Tristan made sure he didn’t stink too badly from the previous day, put a few potions on his belt for safety, and made his way outside.
Some ponies were gathered in the streets a good bit away from him, watching and pointing at a large flock of something high overhead. For a moment Tristan thought they might have been rift spawn, but the guards that wandered through the city were doing nothing, and the fliers were all of the same shape and size. Seeing that their path was taking them closer to the heart of the city than he was, Tristan decided to make his way to where they would land.
Though no ponies made any sort of hostile moves towards him, Tristan made sure to keep his hand near his defensive potions at all times while he walked through the city. What little crowds there were parted for him, and he was able to make it to near where the flock was due to land before they did so. As they came closer, Tristan noticed that they were gryphons, clad in light armor and wielding spears.
A crowd had formed around the area where they were landing, and an important looking guard stood to meet them. Tristan kept himself to the edge of the crowd, not wishing to attract attention to himself. The gryphons executed a perfectly choreographed landing, all standing tall, alert, and silent.
They’re nothing like those two from the jungle...so not all gryphons are bad, then. I suppose there’s just bad apples with them as there are with us. These ones must be allied with the ponies or something, or this would be going a lot differently.
The guard made his way to the gryphon at the front of the formation and began to talk. Tristan somewhat regretted his position at the outskirts of the crowd, as he couldn’t hear a thing over the mutterings of the crowd. Eventually it looked like the two came to a consensus, and the gryphons made their way through the rapidly parting crowd towards another part of the city with the guard.
I suppose it makes sense. A nation like Equestria is bound to have some allies, and they’re certainly in a time of need. Those gryphons wouldn’t do much against the army that was at Canterlot, but if that army split up to go after different cities, perhaps they could help. I wonder if they have magic…
The crowd, apparently satisfied that nothing was going to go wrong, slowly dispersed. Tristan waited around for a little longer, not wanting to cause a disturbance by weaving through the dispersing crowd. Eventually things quieted down and he made his way back to Iron’s.
The rest of Tristan’s stay in Stalliongrad was peaceful. Yet again he found his greatest enemy was boredom, as interesting happenings were few and far between. Iron was an accommodating host, though, and he never found himself lacking for a good meal. Finally, on the sixth day of his stay, Lore came to the house.
“It’s time,” was all Lore said as he stepped through the door to where Iron, Tristan, and Krik were chatting. While Tristan knew his time there was to be short, he had been trying not to think about its imminent end, choosing to just enjoy himself. That time was over.
Krik stood up immediately. “My thanks for your hospitality, Miss Striker. I wish you well,” he said, leaving before Iron could formulate a response. Tristan, however, just kept sitting where he was.
“So the plans are made, then?” Tristan asked, though he knew the answer.
“Yes. Everything is set, and I’ll explain on the way. There’s no sense wasting time now,” Lore responded. “Thank you again for your help, Miss. I hope they weren’t too large a burden on you,” he said, turning his attention to Iron.
“O-oh, no, they’ve been fine. I couldn’t have asked for better guests…” Iron said. “Do you really need to leave so suddenly, though? Perhaps I could put on some tea, and-”
“No, I’m afraid time is of the essence here. Every moment spent waiting is a liability,” Lore said sharply, cutting off Iron. “Tristan, get up.”
Tristan let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “Thanks again for everything, Iron. Say goodbye to Motley for me, would you?”
“Yes, of course,” Iron responded. “Please try to stay safe out there.”
“Sure,” Tristan said neutrally. With that he went to his and Krik’s room to get his things. Krik was nowhere to be seen, though the bag that he kept his rations in was missing. Tristan donned his armor and pack and tidied up the beds for Iron before leaving the room, to find Lore waiting for him. He was shown outside, to find Krik waiting patiently for them.
“Come on,” Lore said, walking off towards the center of town. Krik immediately followed him, but Tristan hesitated for a moment.
Doesn’t anyone here have any emotion? We just spent like a week here, and they’re just running off like it was nothing! What I would give for a nice quiet life right about now…
Tristan followed the two through the streets, finding himself at the very same building that housed the portal that they arrived through. The place was well guarded, though none of the guards did anything to hinder their progress. Inside they found that, save for the active portal, there was no activity.
“Alright, it should be safe to talk freely in here,” Lore began as soon as they entered. “Things have been going badly. Very badly. We’ve lost Las Pegasus.”
I’m not even going to comment on that pun...but it does make it a lot less real when you hear that everyone died in a place called “Las Pegasus”...
“The army didn’t split up and go after different cities as was hoped, but kept together. Within a matter of days they’ll be to Vanhoover, and there’s no way we can fight them off. This little expedition of yours needs to hurry up, and it needs results,” Lore finished. Now that Tristan had some time to examine the unicorn properly he noticed that Lore was even more haggard than usual, to the point of looking like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Don’t you think you’re putting a little too much faith in this? I mean, we’re just going to be looking around for something that may not even be on this side of the planet!” Tristan objected.
“That may be, but we don’t think so,” Lore began, sucking in a deep breath for his imminent explanation. “After Canterlot fell we sent out pegasus scouts all over Equestria to observe the rift spawn. They found two things of note. One, that the main army is nowhere near the entirety of the spawn. Other such groups are marching towards the gryphons, the minotaurs, and even the dragons.”
“Two, we found that while almost all other spawn are near populated areas, presumably for swifter offenses, there are a large amount in the badlands to the southeast. There’s nopony living out there, but the spawn patrol endlessly. Any efforts to get more intelligence on what’s going on there hasn’t ended well for those sent to find out,” Lore finished, his face downcast in a grim look.
“So you believe that our target is there, in these badlands?” Krik queried.
“I...I really don’t know, to be honest,” Lore said, what composure he had rapidly deteriorating. “This is our best bet here, but really? I have no idea where this thing is! Nopony does! And we’re gambling damn well everything on it being there, and you two finding it!” he finished, his breathing intensifying.
Lore’s growing hysteria was getting to Tristan, who found himself pacing the floor. Krik, however, was as calm as he ever was. “Then we must do this as soon as possible, as you have said. There is no point dallying,” Krik said evenly.
“Yes, you’re right…” Lore agreed, calming down and taking a moment to run his hoof through his mane in an attempt to tame it; to no avail. “The princesses are waiting on the other side of the portal. They can tell you the rest.”
“The princesses? Both of them?” Tristan asked. Lore just nodded, and Tristan found himself suddenly cognizant of how disheveled his own look was. There was no time to prepare for a royal meeting, though, so he thrust such thoughts to the back of his mind. “Best not keep them waiting, then.”
The three turned to look at the portal, its swirling blue surface illuminating the room in a pulsating light. Lore urged the others in front of him, and they stepped through. This time Tristan kept his eyes open, finding that while it looked like the portal had some thickness to it, the very moment his eyes touched its surface he could already see through, as if it was no thicker than a razor.
Waiting on the other side, as promised, were both Celestia and Luna. Tristan had never seen Luna outside of his dreams, though he found that she looked exactly the same in life. Instead of Celestia’s normal smile and motherly countenance, she was looking tired and old. Luna fared slightly better, but looked grim as well.
“Tristan, Krik, Lore, thank you for coming,” Celestia greeted, a slight smile breaking its way through the gloom.
Tristan got down into a half-bow before quickly rising. “I didn’t expect to be greeted by the two of you,” he commented.
“And why not?” Luna said. “Our kingdom lies in ruin, and you are our best hope! It is our duty! Matters of state, pressing as they may be, may wait for a moment as we speak with you.”
“We are here now,” Krik cut in. “So what is it that you wish to say?”
“We wanted to wish you luck, and to give you something…” Celestia said, the smile on her face already gone, replaced by a grim look of determination. “Luna.”
Luna nodded and her horn glowed, a small pack to the side of them levitating towards Krik. He reached out to grab it, undoing the clasps and finding a brilliant white orb, about the size of a bowling ball, with a small steel case next to it. Krik opened the case, to find a thin white rod tucked inside generous padding.
“Is that…” Lore said, bewildered. The princesses both nodded.
“Yes. If there was ever a time for it to be used, it is now,” Celestia said darkly.
Tristan, noting Lore’s shocked expression, grew worried. “Just what is that thing? he asked.
“It is, for lack of a better term, a bomb,” Luna said. “It has never been used, and we had hoped it never would be. It was created ages ago, as a potential way of combating Discord, but luckily it was never needed. It has been kept secret with us ever since.”
“How powerful is it?” Krik asked, calmly running his hand over its smooth surface.
“It has never been used, so it is not known. However, it is estimated to be enough to level an entire town. Its creation took decades, and only this one was ever made. Should you find yourself against this foe, without a way to defeat it, perhaps this will give you a chance,” Luna responded.
So, it’s like a magical mini-nuke? I’m not even sure how to react to that...on one hand, it’s awesome, and if we find this big bad and can’t beat it normally we can use this. On the other, I don’t feel very safe carrying this thing around with us…
“It is activated by breaking the rod. You’ll want to get as far away as possible before detonating it; at least a few miles,” Lore added in.
“You knew about this thing?” Tristan asked.
“As the forefront researcher on rift spawn, yes. Its use has been contemplated before, but as collateral damage is estimated to be colossal, and we only have one of them, it’s been kept in reserve,” Lore answered.
Krik secured the detonator in its case and put it and the bomb back in the pack, slinging it over his shoulder next to his ration pack. “Very well then. Was there anything else?” he said calmly.
“Yes. We have this to guide you,” Celestia said, levitating a map to Tristan. “This map will help you navigate through the badlands, and it has all sightings of spawn marked on it. As you can see, there are many more sightings near the east, so that may be a good place to conduct your search.”
Tristan looked over the map, finding it to be beautifully detailed with landmarks and terrain. Small red dots denoted rift spawn sightings, and indeed, there were far more dots on the eastern side of the badlands.
“We both wish you two luck,” Celestia began. “What you’re doing goes above and beyond what I would expect from one of my own guards, and you have our thanks for this. Should you return victorious, know that you will be honored as some of the greatest heroes Equestria has ever known.”
No pressure, right?
“Err, thank you. We’ll try our best…” Tristan said uncertainly, not feeling like he was cut out for such things.
I’m not some great hero...I’m just a guy! Why does it have to be me who’s doing this? I just want to go home, or at least live quietly here...why can’t anything ever turn out the way I want it? But I suppose there’s no choice now...I’m in too deep. This needs to be done.
“Then we shall be off,” Krik said. “Which way must we go?”
“We have somepony to guide you out of the city,” Luna said. On cue, Noble walked out of a nearby hallway and towards the group.
“Tristan. Krik,” he curtly greeted. He looked little better than the princesses or Lore, his normally stoic visage downcast and grim.
“Noble!” Tristan exclaimed, worry forgotten for a moment. “I didn’t think I’d be able to see you again before we left!”
Noble sighed. “Well here I am. Please, let’s just get going.”
“Okay, then…” Tristan said, Noble’s forlorn attitude quickly bringing him back to reality.
“I’ll be staying here with the princesses. There are some things that we need to discuss,” Lore said, looking uncomfortable. “And for what it’s worth, you two...thanks. It’s been an honor,” he finished, his voice low.
“You too, Lore. So, this is goodbye?” Tristan asked, to which Lore nodded slowly. “At least for now, right? Hell, we’ll be back before you know it!” he said with as much confidence and cheer as he could muster, which wasn’t much.
“Then let us be off,” Krik restated. Tristan, Krik, and Noble bade the princesses and Lore a final goodbye and stepped outside the building. A cheery billboard that read “Welcome to Manehattan!” was erected directly outside of the building they were in.
Despite the circumstances, the streets were still busy and full of life here. Many ponies stopped what they were doing to gawk at the newcomers, though, and Noble urged the group onwards on a southerly route.
The crowds before them parted, as they often did when Tristan or Krik were around. Their walk was silent, the weight of the moment pressing in on all involved. Finally, they came to the outskirts of town, where a great deal of guards patrolled endlessly around the city. Other than the usual pony ones, Tristan spotted what must have been several minotaurs within the guard’s ranks. They were patrolling with the usual pony guards, adding a bit more of a menacing presence.
“You’ll want to go directly south. It should be obvious when you get near the badlands,” Noble instructed. “And I wanted to say...good luck,” he finished, snapping into a crisp salute for a moment.
“Thanks, Noble…” Tristan said. He felt that he should have been getting emotional about parting with Noble, as well as about the parting with Lore, but couldn’t find the will to do so. The looming task before him overwhelmed all else, making him feel empty inside.
The three shared no more words, just looking at one another for a moment. Then, Krik turned and began to walk to the south. Tristan quickly followed him, and the two set off. As they left, Tristan glanced backwards, to see that the whole of the guards patrolling the city had stopped walking, instead standing in one unified salute for them. He smiled and turned back to Krik.
This is it, then. The gamble. It’s not called a suicide mission for nothing, but...if we make it back? If we beat this thing? We really will be heroes. I’ll be able to well and truly retire from this stuff, just live a normal life...maybe even go home. But first...first there’s this. I can only hope there’s something after…
Tristan and Krik’s journey began peacefully. They travelled well-marked roads southward, and though they never encountered any other intelligent creatures, the wildlife was undisturbed.
They had no need to use their rations, as Krik had no trouble foraging and hunting for them as they went on. Tristan felt that it was hard to be upset and anxious amid the idyllic scenery of their walk, instead finding himself heartily enjoying the landscape. Even the nights were comfortable, as way stations dotted the road at regular intervals and they never had to compete with others for their use.
After two days of walking they finally began to near a large settlement. Several signs pointed them the way to a town named Mareced, and it looked like the two were due to reach it before their third night.
“If there are ponies there, don’t you think that they might be hostile to us? We don’t have Lore or Noble with us today, after all,” Tristan mused as they neared the town.
“I am unsure if there even are any ponies there. If the spawn have indeed come so far as to threaten major cities, it’s unlikely a town near what may be their leader’s location would be allowed to survive,” Krik said calmly.
“So we’re just going to check up on them?” Tristan asked. “Seems the most likely outcomes are hostile town or rift spawn infested town. I say we just avoid it altogether.”
“Either outcome may yield useful intelligence. We’re going,” Krik said flatly. “If things go badly, I can protect us both well enough.”
“...Fine, but you’re leading. I’d like someone else to be the one taking the brunt of the damage this time,” Tristan relented. Krik nodded, and the two continued on towards the town.
They soon reached their destination, to find that the latter of Tristan’s foretold outcomes was true. Dead ponies littered the streets, some partially or wholly devoured.
“I knew it was a bad idea to come here...alright, let’s avoid the place, then,” Tristan said, stifling a gag at the stench wafting from the bodies.
“We’re not done here yet. Let us investigate,” Krik said, entering the town without a look back.
Dammit, aren’t we supposed to be partners in this or something? Why the Hell is he the one calling all the shots like this? I kinda want to just hang back...but I suppose I’m safer with the highly trained warrior than without.
Tristan hurried to catch up to Krik, muttering complaints under his breath. The entire town was eerily quiet, the only sound being the whistling of the wind and the buzzing of the flies that fed upon the corpses. As they neared the center of town, Tristan heard what sounded like incomprehensible nonsense being spouted from the inside of one of the buildings. Figuring it to be a traumatized survivor, he went to investigate.
The building was a shop, with general wares littering the shelves. The sounds were coming from a back room, and though Tristan was getting closer, he still couldn’t understand any of what was being said. As he neared the open door to the room that presumably held the pony he began to notice another sound: the ripping and chewing of flesh.
Suddenly cognizant of how much sound he had been making, Tristan quietly began to back up, only to find himself bumping into something behind him. He yelled, fumbling with his sword, and spun around. It was only Krik, however, staring down at him with an unreadable expression.
“Are you quite alright, Tristan? What was the source of the sounds?” Krik asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Tristan stammered, his heart beating furiously from the surprise. “It sounds like something is being eaten in there, though.”
They stopped talking, only to notice that there was now silence coming from the room. Krik dropped down to a more defensive stance and motioned for Tristan to get behind him. Tristan was all too happy to oblige and took cover behind his companion, watching the doorway.
Something was squelching around in the room and finally flowed out of the doorway. The creature was a disgusting amorphous blob, its fleshy exterior completely covered in mouths and eyes. Each of the mouths and eyes continually sunk inside the creature and reformed elsewhere, causing the mass to continually change.
Upon seeing the two intruders the monster immediately began its gibbering anew, each of the mouths spouting nonsense. It slowly flowed towards the two, yet Krik made no motion to attack it. It came near them and then passed them, leaving the shop altogether.
“That. Was disgusting,” Tristan commented, the vision of the reforming eyes and mouths seared into his mind.
“Disgusting, yes, but also informative. There is no doubt that it was a rift spawn, yet it attacked neither of us,” Krik commented, going inside the room to see what the thing was eating.
“Hey, that’s right! So we really are safe from them!” Tristan exclaimed. He went to join Krik inside the shop, and his momentary happiness at finding that the spawn wouldn’t attack him immediately ended.
There was a dead dull green pony lying on the floor, covered in bite marks. Little flesh was missing, but the pony looked emaciated, as if it was close to starvation prior to death. Tristan gagged, turning his head away from the sight.
“It seems that spawn drained this pony of its fluids. What an interesting specimen...but chaotic at a base level. If circumstances were different, I would end that aberration of a creature,” Krik said, turning away from the sight and leaving the room.
“Can we go now? I don’t think we’re going to see much more. It looks like most of the spawn are already gone, anyway,” Tristan asked as they left the shop.
“I suppose. It would not be good to sleep within the town, lest we risk ponies coming to avenge their fallen and finding us. We shall continue,” Krik answered, leading them south out of the town.
Even after being in the town for a while, Tristan still hadn’t gotten used to the stench. If anything, the whole place seemed more grotesque as they continued on. The bright and cheery sunshine of the day was in harsh contrast to the overall scene, and served as a foil to the terribleness of it all. Finally they emerged from the town, a cool wind bringing fresh air into their lungs.
“That place was just a massacre...it didn’t look like they were able to put up any sort of a fight, even. Either that or the spawn ate their own dead. I don’t get what kind of creature would cause all that to happen…” Tristan said as they walked away.
“There are many reasons for such atrocities,” Krik began. “The motives of our foe could be anything. Even in a single world there are bound to be many that you cannot understand, and our enemy came from a world completely different from either of ours. It could potentially have no concept of what we know as morality to begin with.”
“It certainly didn’t seem moral when it was in my head, that’s for sure…” Tristan said. “The world will be a better place without it, regardless of its motivations. We’ve just gotta make sure it can’t do anything else like this.”
Krik nodded, and they continued down the path. As the sun began to lower the terrain slowly changed, from rolling hills and trees to short grass and rocky terrain. Soon the night forced the two to camp. Tristan’s sleep that night was haunted by nightmares of dead ponies and countless eyes.
The following day marked the end of the easy trek through Equestria proper and the beginning of the badlands. Gone were the maintained paths and idyllic scenery, replaced by steep rock faces, shallow valleys, and generally uneven terrain. There was little wildlife, though Tristan did spot a few rabbits scurrying about. The going was hard, and Tristan found himself asking for breaks more frequently.
“How are we supposed to find anything in a place like this?” Tristan began to whine as they climbed yet another steep slope. “This thing’s hideout could be right behind any of these rock faces, and we’d never know. This is pointless!”
“Patience, Tristan,” Krik responded, unfazed by Tristan’s negativity. “This is merely the first day. We could be out here for weeks before finding our target, so take care to not let your morale fall too low just yet.”
Tristan mumbled further complaints under his breath but continued going. He found himself longing for his soft, comfortable bed in Canterlot, for a warm and relaxing meal eaten with Shauku, and even for the noise of the city as he tried to sleep.
It’s funny...I’m thinking so much of Canterlot, but didn’t I have it even better back home? It’s just been so long...I can’t even remember the last time I touched a video game. It’s like my life then was just a happy dream, and this is real life. I wonder if this is what it’s like for people who go off to war for months without contact back home…
As the sun was close to its zenith they finally spotted some movement. A rift spawn, flopping around on three limbs, was making its way across the badlands. It seemed to notice Tristan and Krik as it stopped for a moment, before continuing onward. Its presence spooked a small rabbit, but it did not chase the rabbit as it ran.
“Seems they were right...rift spawn in the middle of this wasteland, just walking around. And it didn’t attack us, either…” Tristan pondered.
“Yes, it seems their intelligence was correct. Other than the protection of their liege, I cannot fathom what purpose they would serve in such a place as this,” Krik agreed, watching the spawn for a moment longer before changing their course eastward. “Did you notice that hare, Tristan?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tristan answered.
“It did not pursue it. One would think it would have, for sustenance at the least, but it did not. Curious,” Krik said.
“Perhaps it was just a herbivore?” Tristan asked, looking to the short grasses.
“Perhaps. It’s likely nothing, but we must acquire as much information as possible as we can from such meetings with their kind. Know your enemy, down to the smallest detail, and you stand a greater chance of defeating them,” Krik said.
“Well I’m sure glad you’re here to know all that stuff. I’m beginning to wonder why I’m even here...you could go faster without me,” Tristan said. “I’m just ‘plan B’, and a bad one at that. If you go down there’s not much I’ll be able to do.”
“Even if you increase the likelihood of success by very smallest percentile, you’re still an asset,” Krik said flatly. “But, for the record, I estimate that you’re adding on at least twenty percent, which is a substantial number.”
“Thanks, I think,” Tristan responded. “I suppose it’s just a bit depressing, being out here. It’s like everything I do turns to shit. My life back home, my life in Canterlot...and now we’re here on this bleak little mission. None of it is even of my choosing, really! I’ve just been railroaded from one debacle to the next!”
“Life is not always fair, Tristan. Yet, perhaps there may be a pleasant ending to your troubles. How are you to know if you do not continue with your struggle?” Krik said, continuing to lead them along.
“Easier said than done…” Tristan muttered sourly. Krik didn’t respond and kept walking.
Their search continued for five more days, as they combed the badlands for any trace of their foe. They encountered many rift spawn on their way, all patrolling much like they were, and none hostile. A feeling of futileness was creeping up on Tristan, and despite his best efforts, it was beginning to take hold. The task of finding an enemy that they didn’t even know the description of was becoming too much. Then, hours into the fifth day, Krik noticed that something was amiss.
“Tristan, we must be at least seven hours into the day, correct?” Krik asked Tristan, as he stared up at something.
“I lost my watch ages ago, but sure, that sounds about right. Why?” Tristan responded, looking up to see what Krik was looking at, but finding nothing out of the ordinary.
“The sun should be much lower than it is, then,” Krik said, apparently staring directly at the glowing ball above them.
Tristan took note of the sun’s position, and found that it wasn’t where it should be at all. Though the day was progressing the sun hadn’t come near its zenith. “Well, Celestia is the one that ‘raises the sun’ around here, apparently, so she must be busy or something. I hope things are going alright with them…” Tristan said, trying to stay somewhat optimistic.
“Yes. That could be it. Let us continue,” Krik said, beginning his march anew.
The two continued on for a few more hours, and every time Tristan looked back to the sun, it hadn’t moved at all. He tried to put it out of his mind, but nearing the time that nightfall would have come, he was unable to ignore it.
“Do you think...she’s dead?” Tristan broached suddenly.
“It may be,” Krik said flatly.
“What would that even cause?” Tristan said. “I mean...sunlight, twenty-four seven? And on the other side of the planet, nothing but night?”
“I would imagine that they have some backup plan in case of their leader’s death. They would be foolish to be otherwise,” Krik offered.
“Maybe…” Tristan said sadly. They spoke no more, continuing along their way. When fatigue set in they slept in the shadows of a valley to avoid the sun.
Their search continued for another two agonizingly boring days of neverending sun before they finally found something of interest. From their vantage atop a tall rock formation, they spied three rift spawn standing somewhat near an otherwise inconspicuous cave. While all the other spawn that they had encountered were patrolling endlessly, seemingly never even stopping to rest or eat, these spawn were completely stationary.
“Should we check out the cave?” Tristan asked, as he lay prone beside Krik from their lofty vantage point.
“No,” Krik said quietly. “There could be any number of traps or fortifications inside that cave. For now, we must watch it, to see if our enemy emerges.”
Tristan nodded seriously and continued looking at the cave. Hours passed, though Tristan had lost interest and allowed his mind to wander within the first half hour. Finally, Krik nudged Tristan to rouse him from his inattentiveness, pointing towards the cave opening.
A weasel, which they had seen several of during their journey, had made its way near the cave opening. It skittered around in the grass, seemingly looking for something. As it neared the entrance, however, all three of the rift spawn immediately sprang into action. There was no chance for the small animal, as the spawn immediately tore it to shreds, before going back to their watch.
“So...these spawn are hostile to neutral entities, it seems. We may not be able to walk inside unchallenged,” Krik assessed.
“Wait, so we have to fight...all three of those things?” Tristan asked, fear beginning to form within him as he looked below.
“It very well may be. Which one do you want?” Krik asked.
“Which one do I ‘want’? I don’t ‘want’ any of them!” Tristan protested.
“You may take the weakest of the three, then,” Krik said. “Look to the one on the left…” He pointed towards the one farthest from the cave.
The spawn in question moved about on a single slick tentacle, which rapidly undulated beneath it when it moved to attack the weasel earlier. Above the tentacle was a flesh colored uneven lump of a body, with countless other shorter tentacles, which grew to a red at their tips, protruding from its midsection. Directly above those tentacles were many circular mouths and yellow eyes, which somewhat reminded Tristan of the spawn from Mareced, though these did not recede and reform. From his vantage, Tristan couldn’t accurately judge its size, but believed it to be roughly human sized.
However, the other two that were closer to the cave were no better. They seemed to be worse, if anything. The first was huge, standing upon three legs as thick as tree trunks. Atop those legs was a greenish, round body, with a huge gaping mouth rowed with sharp teeth in the middle. It was topped with three long tentacles, two of which had spikes on their interiors, and one of which had several eyes of varying shapes, all with sharp blades on the exteriors of them. The entire thing must have been at least twice Tristan’s height.
Finally, the middle spawn was lower and sleeker than the others. It ran about on four legs which each ended in terribly long claws. It was the fastest of the three, bounding to the weasel earlier in a flash. Its body was dull grey and armored, with a single fin atop its back and an equally armored tail behind it. Its head was elongated and aerodynamic, with a large mouth and two beady eyes. It looked to be at least the size of an alligator.
“Do we have any choice? Couldn’t we just use the bomb?” Tristan asked, trying to find any way out of a fight.
“The bomb is too large a variable; there’s no way we can extrapolate what effects it will have. It may be sufficient, or it may not. It could potentially cave in the opening, leaving too much to chance,” Krik responded.
“So what you’re saying is, no, we don’t have a choice,” Tristan said. “Well, I suppose I didn’t bring this stuff along for nothing…” Tristan ran his hand over his sword and took off his backpack, unpacking several potions and arranging them on his belt for quick use. “When are we going to do this?”
“I would say under the cover of night, but I do not believe that will be an option,” Krik responded, as he slowly rose up to his full height. “We must be swift in our fighting, lest we give our foe too much time to prepare for us.
“I’ll do my best…do you think that I should keep potions in reserve for later, or use them all up now?” Tristan said, as they crept away from the ledge and made their way down towards the cave.
“Use some, but not all. Of course you will wish to use what is needed to survive, though any to make the fight faster would be helpful as well,” Krik answered, leading them down a narrow ledge.
Tristan fingered a potion on his belt, making sure it was fastened correctly. As they continued on, his heart began to beat faster, the anticipation of the fight setting in. The day was clear and silent, save for the omnipresent sound of the wind rushing through the varied rock formations. They neared a corner that would take them into the sight of their foes and Tristan drew his sword and shield, affirming and re-affirming his grip on each to make sure that everything was ready.
Finally they came out into the open, to see all three of the spawn exactly where they had been previously. None of them made a single move towards the two, so Tristan and Krik slowly edged forward, Tristan staying farther to the side in an attempt to attract his designated target. All of the spawn were unmistakably looking at them, but none had yet charged.
Tristan and Krik exchanged no words, instead directing their full attention on their targets. They edged ever closer to the cave entrance, waiting for any movement from their enemies. Then, as if on cue, all three sprang into deadly motion at once.
As they had hoped, the two that were closer to Krik charged for him, the sleek grey one meeting him in the blink of an eye while the larger one thundered towards him. Tristan’s foe slithered incredibly quickly towards him, its many eyes all locked on to Tristan. While his first thought was to run, Tristan quickly crushed the notion and steeled himself. Having been in such situations before, while he knew the threat was real and his heart was beating out of his chest, he was able to stand his ground.
The monster stopped its rush right before it hit Tristan, who had readied himself against its charge. With incredible precision it lashed out a single tentacle not at Tristan, but at his shield, ripping it away. It flung the shield far to the side and backed up to dodge one of Tristan’s slices.
Shit, it got my shield! This thing isn’t like the other stuff...it’s smart enough to prioritize! Gonna have to be careful…
His hand now freed from his shield, Tristan grabbed a potion from his belt and unstopped it, holding it ready to drink. He and his foe circled in silence, the monster’s many mouths at times opening and closing, revealing sharp teeth, but never making a noise. However, Krik’s fight was anything but silent, as Tristan heard one of the beasts roaring out in either pain or defiance.
Understanding that his enemy was waiting for him to strike first, Tristan decided to surprise it. Instead of lashing out with his sword he swiftly chugged his potion. Before he could make an attack, however, the beast used the opening to lash a tentacle forward, which wrapped around his arm and pulled him forward with terrible strength.
Before the monster could begin biting him, Tristan felt a heat rising up from his throat. As he had expected, he belched forward a stream of flame, directly on to his foe. Its silence was broken as it screeched in pain, though it continued to pull Tristan in closer. Tristan used the moment of confusion to hack at the tentacle that was pulling him, managing to cut it off and free himself. For a moment it let loose a spurt of white blood, but the wound sealed almost immediately.
Miraculously, the creature had not caught fire, yet it was obviously covered in crispy burns. It immediately withdrew several feet, scraping at its singed flesh frantically. While it was distracted Tristan grabbed another potion off of his belt and threw it at his enemy. It shattered, releasing a vibrant blue liquid over its target, which began to audibly sizzle.
The eyes that were not burnt shut previously were now melted shut from Tristan’s concoction, so Tristan ran forward to finish off his foe. However, as he made his first slice, it turned around completely, revealing plenty of unharmed eyes on its other side. A tentacle flew to meet Tristan, knocking him to the side and on to the ground.
Luckily, the monster seemed too distracted by its own pain to immediately pursue its foe, and so Tristan was able to get himself back up. Behind him he heard what sounded like the dying scream of one of the other spawn, though he did not chance a look.
This fight isn’t going that badly...I’m a bit roughed up, but that thing has got to be hurting right now! Just gotta keep on the pressure!
This time it was the spawn’s turn to attack first, as it flew towards him on its bottom tentacle. It began to spin around, all of its appendages whirring about it at speeds that Tristan couldn’t keep track of. Taken off guard by this new attack, Tristan thrust out his sword, finding some purchase in his foe. However, he was still hit by a tentacle directly across the face, and again found himself sprawled across the ground.
Dammit, how am I supposed to kill this thing? It doesn’t even have a head to cut off, and I can’t get past the damn tentacles! I was hoping to save this one, but I suppose I need to use it…
With a practiced hand Tristan drew yet another potion from his belt, this one a dark brown in color. He immediately downed it, before even getting up, and its effects were instantaneous. As he warded off his enemy above him, his skin turned from a pale tan to a hard grey, cracking along joints like stone. His movement was uninhibited, however, and he was able to continue fighting. A hard strike came down on his face again, though this time he only felt the impact, not the pain.
It worked! I wasn’t sure if that would even translate for humans, but it did! I’m not dead!
Tristan took a chance and righted himself, sword held out directly above him. The spawn tried to knock him down again but he managed to keep himself steady, hacking away with his sword the whole time. Finally, he rushed towards his enemy, plunging his sword through an opening in its defenses and meeting its fleshy body. The sword cut through easily, sinking almost up to the haft. He must have hit something vital, for the thing gave a final shriek, before becoming still.
Hoping that it really was dead, Tristan withdrew his sword and hacked off another tentacle for good measure. He turned around to see how Krik was doing, seeing the smaller rift spawn dead on the ground, while Krik was actively riding the larger one.
It continually tried to slice at Krik with the blades on its tentacles, though Krik was always fast enough to dodge. His repeated stinging was causing the beast to become sluggish, but it wasn’t dead yet. Tristan hurried to aid his ally, though a moment before he was able to make it, the monster gave a final deep bellow and fell twitching to the ground.
Not wanting to take any chances, Tristan hacked off all three of its tentacles while it was down, watching as their stubs sprayed yellow blood everywhere. He backed away from the body and turned to face Krik, who was making sure the third spawn was dead as well.
“We...did it,” Tristan said between pants, fatigue rapidly setting in as his adrenaline faded. He noticed that his skin was also returning to normal, changing from its rock-like texture back to normal.
“Indeed. Well done, Tristan,” Krik said calmly. “We mustn’t tarry, our enemy is likely inside. We can celebrate later!”
With that Krik went to the largest of the spawn and snapped a spike off one of its tentacles. He then regurgitated some strange liquid onto its tip, which was a pale white in color.
“Eurgh, Krik, what is that?” Tristan asked, finding himself slightly nauseated at the display.
“A light source. Myrmarchs such as myself can see with almost no light, but we still need some. This will shine just brightly enough,” Krik said casually, looking towards the cave.
“That’s...still really nasty,” Tristan said, unable to take his eyes away from the globby substance on the spike. He then looked to the carnage of the fight and shrugged, figuring that if he could get through a fight like that without being nauseated, there was no reason for him to worry about some strange feature of formian anatomy.
Tristan retrieved his shield from where it lay and proceeded to the cave entrance. They looked down, seeing that save for what light was afforded by the sun, there was no light within the cave itself. Tristan pulled out his goggles and put them on, seeing that the cave actually wound downwards and to the right, out of sight.
“So, this is it, then...either we emerge from this cave as heroes, or we never emerge at all...it’s a pretty anxious feeling,” Tristan said to Krik, who was examining every detail of the cave from where they stood.
Krik didn’t respond and moved slowly into the cave, apparently satisfied that there were no visible traps. Tristan flipped on his goggles, took a long look at the sunlit day, sighed, and continued after Krik. They made their way silently through the cave, finding it to be unassuming and mundane. There was no sign of habitation, and for a moment Tristan worried that they wouldn’t find anything at all.
As they rounded the first bend they noticed that there was indeed something alive in the cave, though not what they had expected. The walls of the cave abruptly changed from smooth stone to what looked to be some type of fungus or mold that completely covered all surfaces in the cave. Krik halted before stepping on it and rubbed it with a single finger, before nodding to himself and walking upon it. Tristan gingerly stepped on it as well, finding it to be dry and soft.
Without warning, the cave began to shake slightly, causing Tristan to almost lose his balance. He worried for a moment about a cave-in, but Krik stayed silent and waved him onward. Out of fear of alerting their foe to their location Tristan silently complied.
They continued onwards through several twists that Tristan figured must have been caused by an underground stream at one point. Finally, after several minutes of walking, the relatively narrow passage opened up into a great chamber, far larger than they had expected. The strange covering was still all over the walls, and Tristan could see several stalagmites that could still be discerned even under the growth.
By chance Tristan looked up, spotting something large and moving above them. He yelled to Krik as the thing dropped down silently upon them. Krik looked up in time and dodged out of the way of what looked like a gigantic spider, longer than Tristan was tall. Both Tristan and Krik immediately attacked, resulting in a successful sting and one of the monster’s legs being sliced clean off. However, before they could strike the killing blow, it spoke.
“Wait!” it shrieked in a feminine tone. “Don’t kill this one!”
Krik and Tristan stayed their attacks out of surprise, but did not lower their guards. The monster lay pitifully upon the floor, ooze coming out of the stump of its severed leg. Now that he had a moment to examine it fully Tristan noticed that it had what looked like an eerily human face, with two normal eyes and six smaller ones dotting its forehead.
“We seek the one that controls the spawn. Tell us where it is!” Krik said forcefully, while Tristan kept his sword near its other legs.
“This one is not the one you seek!” it cried loudly. “You will never find the one that controls this form, and legions hurry here to slay you before you escape!”
“So why the Hell would we let you live?” Tristan yelled, the threat bringing to the surface his fear of death.
“This one is useful to me, and I do not wish for it to be slain. I can help you as those accursed ponies never could, if you will spare it,” the spider said, its voice becoming somewhat pleasant now that it was calming down.
“How could you possibly help us, creature?” Krik asked.
“This one is useful in many ways, but one way greater than the rest! Let me move, and I will show you!” it pleaded, taking on a pathetic tone.
“I don’t know, Krik, we can’t trust this thing. If it really is useful to our enemy, we ought to just kill it,” Tristan said, not taking his eyes off it.
“Perhaps we can work this to our advantage. We should let it show us what it will, and kill it if we find what it offers unsatisfactory,” Krik said. Tristan gave a hesitant shrug and Krik motioned for the creature to rise. It did so, hobbling around on its remaining legs over to a wall.
There it began to work, spinning a strangely glowing web from its abdomen. It spun it in a circular motion, leaving a near perfect circle about six feet in diameter in the center. It stood still for a moment and then screeched out a terrible noise, causing both Tristan and Krik to recoil slightly.
A small pinprick of light had been lit at the exact center of the circle. The light began to expand until it filled the entire area, and a picture began to take shape on the other side. A craggy mountainside could be seen through it, with no life in sight.
“Is that a…” Tristan asked, dumbfounded. He looked to Krik, who was staring intently at the phenomenon. “Krik? Krik!” Tristan shouted, attempting to get his friend’s attention.
“In exchange for your leaving, I offer you the one thing ponies never shall,” the spider-like creature said softly. “So long as this one lives the portal cannot be disrupted without breaking the thread, so it is safe for your passage.” It backed away from the portal and stood watching the two.
“Krik, talk to me here. Is that your home?” Tristan asked worriedly. He kept his gaze on the spider, fearing that it had tricked him and somehow incapacitated Krik, though before he could mull the idea over for long, Krik spoke.
“...Yes,” he said dreamily. “This is...my home. I hear them, my brothers, ringing within my head! They call to me!”
That must be the hive mind thing from earlier...this is what Krik’s been wanting. But we can’t just leave now! If we go, the ponies, and everything else here, are completely screwed!
“Krik, you can’t go through! We have a job to do here! I can’t do it without you!” Tristan pleaded, stepping between Krik and the portal. “Focus!”
“I...I’m…” Krik stammered, his usual demeanor completely lost to what seemed like shock. “My queen…”
“Krik! You can’t be serious!” Tristan said, before letting out an aggravated yell. “Fine, if you won’t close the damn thing, I will!” he shouted, stepping towards the portal to slice the web. Before he could get to it, however, Krik grabbed him from behind.
“Tristan,” Krik said sadly. “I have no choice. When my queen calls me, I must answer. I do not expect you to understand.”
“But...you can’t just…” Tristan stammered. “What about the mission? And everything we’ve done here?”
“If he wishes to leave do not hamper him! It is his choice to make!” the spawn called from the side of the room, where it was already spinning another web. “Go to your home, to your queen, Krik! They are waiting for you!”
“I am...sorry, Tristan,” Krik said, stepping towards the portal.
“You can’t! I can’t do this alone!” Tristan implored frantically. He knew that he needed Krik to stay with him, and didn’t want to be left in the cave alone. However, even as he hung on to his friend, Krik moved forward.
“If it was my choice, Tristan, I would stay and aid you. Please, stay strong. Perhaps the bonds of your home are less stalwart,” Krik said, as he reached the portal. He then proceeded to take off his pack and put it on the ground next to Tristan. “I have no need of such things where I will be going. Goodbye, Tristan Davis. May you walk with discipline and honor for all of your days.”
Krik turned around, facing the portal, and took a deep breath in. Then, without another word, he stepped through. He walked out of the vision the portal gave and was gone.
Krik...no...just like that? You’re just going to leave, just like that? Didn’t any of this mean anything? We’re in the damned base of what we’ve worked so long and so hard to kill, and you just leave?
Tristan felt his morale slipping away as he turned back to the spider. It sported a wide, strange grin, and stood next to another portal frame. “What other choice would you have him make, Tristan? He is happy now! And you shall be as well! Do not let the dilemma of those ponies weigh upon you so heavily! Soon, you’ll be home!” it said smoothly.
“What kind of a person do you think that I am, anyway?” Tristan asked angrily, as he swiped at the thread that held Krik’s portal and severed it, confirming his suspicion that the portal immediately disappeared. “What kind of a person would put themselves above the lives of thousands?”
“Don’t delude yourself!” it said. “It is as I told you before, they are nothing but animals! Weak, fragile, pitiful! They do not feel as you do! If you were of no use to them, they would- your enemy is the flesh of the cave! Hurry!” it shrieked, its tone suddenly changing at the end to something completely foreign.
What was that? Was that just...the original mind?
“A-as I was saying...” it stammered, composure rapidly returning.
“Wait. Just what was that?” Tristan asked, looking from the monster in front of him to the walls of the cave.
“Nothing! Now listen, I can take you home! With the knowledge I have of you, I can find it! You can put this all behind you!” it yelled.
Tristan didn’t respond, but took a flask of acid off of his belt. He then uncorked it and poured it over the ground, where it hissed through the covering on the floor. Immediately the cave began to shake as it did before, and the spider yelled out.
“Stop! Fine! You have found me, the one you call your enemy! But there’s nothing you can possibly do to destroy me before help comes!” it shouted hastily. It then shrieked again as it did before, and another portal coalesced beside it.
The anger that Tristan had been feeling ebbed slightly as he saw what was through the portal. His home was directly in front of his view, much as he remembered it to be. He was at a loss for words, as the longing he had been feeling for so long became palpable. Birds twittered softly on the other side, apparently oblivious to the strange occurrence.
The spider limped slowly away from the portal to the other side of the room, away from Tristan. “Go now. Your family awaits you,” it said calmly. Tristan could discern a note of smugness in its voice, as if he had already left. Tristan felt himself drawn to the portal, as his legs automatically carried him close to it.
Home...I can go home...no more danger, no more pain, just...just...augh! No! I can’t just, just leave! If I go, everyone here is dead! I can’t just leave them! Lore, Shauku, Noble, Nightingale...Iron and Motley...the princesses...I can’t just leave them! But, if I don’t go...if I don’t…
Tears began to well up in Tristan’s eyes as the barrage of emotions made itself apparent upon his form. He fought them back as he heard a voice, which sounded both familiar and yet foreign.
“Tristan! Tristaaaan! Fuck, is that you?” a voice came from the side of the portal, outside of its view.
“E-Eric?” Tristan said, flabbergasted. Sure enough, his old friend rounded the corner around the portal and was thrust into full sight. He looked almost exactly the same as Tristan had remembered him as, save for a missing arm and the beginnings of a scraggly beard.
“We all thought you were dead! What the Hell is going on? And where did you get that snazzy armor?” Eric said, as he reached forward to the portal, before twitching his arm back, as if afraid.
“Eric, it’s just so good to see you…” Tristan said softly, the world around him dulled, though he still listened for any movement behind him. “It’s been…” he continued, before the tears he was holding back broke forth.
“If this thing is like the last one, you need to get through! Where are you, anyway?” Eric urged, putting his remaining hand near the portal out to clasp Tristan’s.
“Go to your friend, Tristan! All of your torment is over! You’re free!” the spider urged him from behind.
“I-I-I can’t,” Tristan choked out. “I wish I could, but I just...I just can’t…”
“What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?” Eric asked. “Dude, I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you need to come through that thing right now! Do you have any idea what your parents have gone through? They need you, man!”
Tristan’s sobbing intensified as memories long suppressed came back in full force. “You don’t understand! I have something I need to do!” he yelled, wiping tears from his eyes. “I want to! I really do! I just can’t!”
“Tristan…” Eric said sadly, confusion evident in his voice. Tristan noticed that one of his neighbors had opened their door and stood pointing at the portal, while dialing something on their cellphone.
“Don’t be a fool, Tristan! Do not delude yourself into believing you can make a difference here! All that awaits you is death if you do not pass through!” the spider yelled from behind him.
“Quiet!” Tristan roared behind him. “This is all your fault! And I won’t let you get away unpunished! I’m sorry, Eric. Tell my parents...that I love them. Goodbye!” With that he swung his sword at the thread holding the portal open and sliced it.
“You imbecile! Do you believe I was the one to bring you here? This tool of mine came later!” the spider shrieked.
“It’s not just that!” Tristan yelled, wiping the remnants of his tears from his eyes. “The pain you’ve caused, the suffering, and for what? Because you couldn’t control them? You’re just a monster!”
“You have no idea what I am, worm!” it hissed out. “I am beyond you! Lesser creatures must be made to serve, or they do not deserve to live!”
“Enough!” Tristan screamed, as he grabbed his last flask of acid from his belt and flung it at the spider. It hit it directly in the face, causing it to begin shrieking in pain. “You’re the one who doesn’t deserve to live!”
Tristan ran to the screaming creature, slicing at legs as he went. As it fell to the ground he stabbed with all of his might at its head, and his sword slid neatly into one of the eye sockets. It gave a final shriek of pain, and was silent.
What have I just done? That was my only chance home...my only chance! Why can’t anything ever be simple for once?
Tristan stood there, panting, and dropped his sword. He trudged over to the pack that Krik left and rummaged through it, finding the magical bomb and detonator tucked safely inside. He hefted the bomb up and put it in the center of the cavern, keeping the detonator with him.
“You think I can’t hurt you, huh?” Tristan yelled out furiously into the cave. “Well I don’t know if you can hear me, but I can! Your days have come to an end! And it’ll be brought about by me, that little worm you were taunting!”
In response the cave began to shake once more, this time even more violently than the last two. “Oh, are you scared now? Good! I’m about to teach you a lesson in the dangers of hubris!”
The silence of the cave was broken as footsteps came from the entrance of the cave. They were still resonating on pure stone floors, so Tristan knew he had some time, but he also knew there was no getting out.
Well, that’s it, then. End of the line. Game over. The end. There was still so much I wanted to do…
Tristan walked over to the side of the cave, slouching himself against the wall as he heard the footsteps coming closer. He unfastened the box that held the detonator and cradled the rod in his hands, knowing that the moment he broke it the bomb would go off.
To think...not so long ago, I was ready to kill ponies to get by. And here I am dying for them. I hope they turn out alright…
The sound of footsteps was coming ever closer, as they stopped resonating on the stone and became more muffled by the fleshy interior of the cave.
It’s funny. I’ve been scared of dying all this time, and right here, right now...I feel kinda peaceful. All the struggle is over. All I have left to do is snap this one little rod, and then that’s it. No more worries, no more stress. I wonder if this really is the end, or if there is something that comes later. I suppose I’ll find out…
Tristan gave a wistful smile, recalling for a final time his moments both on Earth and on Equestria. The good times and the bad blurred together, and though there was a lot of pain, there was a lot of happiness too. He slowly sighed, and noticed that the footsteps were almost upon him.
“Well…” he said quietly. “Here goes nothing.”
He took the rod and broke it over his knee. For the briefest of moments there was a searing heat and pain.
Virgin Lore rose from his desk with a sigh. The sun was already beginning to wane, and it was about time for him to be heading home for the day. He took a look at the immense pile of paperwork that was still incomplete and decided to forget about it for the time being, choosing instead to try to enjoy himself for a while.
He opened the door to his office and stepped into the hallway of Canterlot Castle. Guards and civilians were milling about as usual, all going about their business as they always did. He hummed himself an idle tune as he trotted out of the castle.
Figuring that he had enough time before he needed to be home, Lore decided to take a leisurely walk around the castle grounds. Since the crisis that nearly destroyed Equestria years ago, his life had been hectic, as the demand for research into the rifts had increased exponentially in the interest of preventing another disaster. From time to time he found himself needing time to escape from all of that and just be alone with his thoughts, away from work.
He elected to start his leisure with a trot through the statue garden, which he had been frequenting for some time. The statues all stood exactly the same as they always had, completely untouched by the war. He pondered again their old foe’s battle strategy, and the apparent decision to leave the city of Canterlot itself completely untouched after its capture. It seemed that the spawn had no interest in pillaging or otherwise ravaging the city, so when the city was reclaimed it was found in impeccable condition.
As he passed by the statues of the heroes and celebrities of old he mused upon their stories. Having always loved learning about new things, he knew at least the basics of the stories of every statue in the garden. Soon, he began to near one such sculpture that held special meaning for him.
Carved from a gigantic block of fine marble, a statue depicting Tristan and Krik stood towering over him. Tristan was in a heroic pose that Lore had never seen him actually take, with a sword in one hand and a potion flask in the other. Next to him stood Krik, who was also wielding a sword, despite the fact that he had never done so. Lore recalled arguing with the sculptor about that issue, but the sculptor was dead-set on their new hero holding a suitable weapon.
On the base of the statue was a plaque in their honor. It read, “In memory of the rift spawns known as Tristan and Krik, who proved to Equestria that some spawn can be trusted. They gave their very lives in heroic sacrifice to protect Equestria during its darkest hour, giving as much as any native-born Equestrian would have.”
Even after all these years, it seems like just yesterday that I was working with those two. It wasn’t easy dealing with them, but I’ll admit, I do miss them. Everything from Tristan’s sarcasm to Krik’s stoicism. I suppose it’s just natural, after having spent so much time with them, and after almost dying alongside them. For all their faults, they turned out to be quite the interesting friends...I wish that they were still here. But if they didn’t do what they did...well...I remember all too well what was about to happen…
Lore watched sadly as Tristan and Krik walked away. Celestia and Luna stood by him as they watched Tristan, Krik, and Noble leave the room. Lore wondered if he would ever see them again, and found himself doubting that he ever would.
“Do you honestly believe they’ll make it?” Lore asked the princesses quietly. Neither of them responded.
After a brief moment of silence Lore began to speak again. “Well, princesses, I believe we still have matters to attend to, don’t we?”
Celestia and Luna both snapped their attention back to Lore, having both been lost in apparent thought for a moment. “Yes, that is correct,” Celestia began. “It has been decided that losing Manehattan, as the current largest city in the country, would be a deadly blow to all of Equestria. So, this city is to be defended at all costs.”
“I understand. How do you want me to help, Princess?” Lore responded in the most dignified voice he could muster.
“While you have talent on the battlefield, I believe you’d be of far more use as a researcher than an active defender of the city. Quarters have been arranged for you, with all the provisions you’ll need to continue your work. All available office space has long been claimed, so I’m afraid your room will have to do. I trust that you’ll find such an agreement acceptable?” Celestia said. Lore noticed now more than ever how detached Celestia sounded, the motherly intonations of her voice all but lost.
Canterlot falling has been hard enough on me, but I can only imagine how it has been for the princesses. I don’t envy their position, having to take responsibility for everything that’s been happening. Yet, if there’s anyone that could get Equestria through this, it’s them.
“That will be fine, Princess. Thank you,” Lore responded.
“As soon as he’s done with his current escort, the guard Noble Cause will be back to show you the way,” Luna added. “We are afraid that we will need to leave you now, as there are still many pressing matters to attend to. We thank you for your continued service, Virgin Lore.”
Lore didn’t respond but sank into a kneeling position as the princesses left the room. As soon as they were gone he stopped kneeling and simply lay upon the hard floor, his energy nearly exhausted from the day already. He soon recovered himself, so as not to let Noble see him in such a state.
Soon Noble came back, looking forlorn. Neither spoke, and Lore followed Noble outside. The streets of the city were packed, and though Lore had never been to Manehattan before, he imagined that it couldn’t possibly be this crowded normally. Noble lead him silently through the streets, past the tall buildings and noisy crowds that seemed to be everywhere. Finally, they came to a fairly nice looking building that jutted towards the sky. A large sign on its front read “The Mareiott”.
As soon as they entered a frazzled mare, apparently the receptionist, ordered them to halt. “I’m afraid that I don’t care what your story is or how badly you need a room! We just don’t have any left!” she said harshly.
“This is Virgin Lore. The princesses arranged a room for him,” Noble said wearily.
“The...oh!” she replied, a mix between recognition and fear on her face. “Right, yes! Sorry about that!” She quickly trotted behind the desk and withdrew a key from somewhere, which she tossed to Lore. “You’re room four-twelve, on the fourth floor!”
Lore muttered a half-hearted thanks as Noble cleared his throat. “I believe that you can handle yourself from here. Take care of yourself, Lore,” Noble said.
“Yes, I should be fine...and take care of yourself too, Noble. It’s dangerous out there,” Lore responded.
“I know,” Noble said flatly as he turned around and left. Lore lingered for a moment, watching him leave, before going up the stairs to find his room.
He’s going to have it as bad as Tristan and Krik, if not worse. I don’t envy anypony that’s going to have to fight that army. Still, Noble is a stout fellow...I’m sure he’ll be fine.
Though he had heard that The Mareiott was supposed to be fancy, and the general decor proved as much, he began to notice an unpleasant odor as he ascended the stairwell. It was something between rotting food and feces, and it caused him to gag a little. As he exited the stairwell on the fourth floor the reason was made apparent, as he saw heaps of refuse piled outside most of the doors.
Either the hotel can’t keep up for some reason, or there must be something wrong with the trash pickup in general...I really hope the smell doesn’t reach my room.
He quickly found his room and unlocked it, finding that it smelled much nicer than the hallway, likely due to a window that was currently open. The room itself was quite nice, with a large bedroom and a sitting room that already had papers and data for him to process lying on a large table. It had some amenities as well, including a small refrigerator stocked with food and a radio.
The sheer amount of work to do was enough to make him want to rest before getting started, so he decided to ignore it for now, instead trotting over to the window and looking down. The view was pleasant, with a good view of the streets below as well as the neighboring buildings. Had he been here for any other reason, he figured it might have been a nice stay.
He left the window open to keep fresh air flowing into the room and trotted over to the restroom to attend to his needs. As he finished he chanced a look in the mirror and saw just how terrible he looked. His eyes were bloodshot and his mane a mess, his lips dry and cracked and his coat dirty.
I...saw the princesses...looking like THIS?
Lore let out a long anguished yell, provoking somepony into banging on their ceiling below him for him to shut up. He slammed his head once against the mirror and let his head slowly slide down it, only making sure his horn didn’t scratch it out of instinct. “I swear, if the rift spawn don’t do it first, this workload is going to kill me! I just...need some sleep.”
He stepped away from the mirror, noting that there was a trail of oil from where his soiled mane had slid down it. His lips formed a scowl at the sight of himself again, but he couldn’t bring himself to tidy himself up just yet. He walked over to the bed and jumped on it, throwing the sheets over himself. For now, all he wanted was sleep. And that was what he got.
The ensuing week was filled with the paperwork, tests, and data analyzation that Lore was so very accustomed to. This cycle was only broken once, when the familiar face of Nightingale came by to check up on him. Despite her protests that he looked terribly unwell, he shooed her away, insisting that he was fine. The routine he fell into consisted of new data being delivered to him several times a day, which he had the task of making sense of. While there were others doing the same thing as he was, he knew that none of them had the same experience with the spawn as he did, so the pressure of his task never abated.
While before most of his findings were about the behavior of the spawn as they adapted to Equestria and the physiology of specific specimens, now he was being tasked with finding things of direct relevance to fighting the spawn. The useful information he gleaned off the reports he analyzed was painfully little, as there was only so much uniformity and predictability to be had in such a diverse collection of creatures. Still, from cross-analyzing the new information with his prior knowledge of the spawn, he was able to put together at least some useful information on how to better combat the army.
A full seven days into his time in Manehattan, Lore’s work came to an abrupt halt. The army was already at the city.
The first sign Lore noticed of the rift spawn army’s arrival was the screaming. As he looked out from his window he could see ponies going through the streets announcing the news, though they didn’t seem to be doing so in any official capacity. Nevertheless, hysteria immediately ensued, and from the vantage of his window Lore had an excellent chance to witness the pandemonium in full.
Since most of the guards were at the outskirts of the city attempting to ward off the army, there were far too few within the city itself to maintain order. Ponies ran to and fro in the streets, mostly screaming their heads off. There was little in the way of violence, but Lore did see quite a few ponies get knocked underhoof in the panic. While his own heart had already jumped into his throat, Lore found their behavior irrational and foolish. While their days might now be numbered, it would do little good to panic.
Lore was torn, half of him wanting to go outside and gather information on what exactly had happened, while his other half wanted nothing more than to stay in the relative security of his room. The latter half won over, and he spent a few hours ignoring the piles of work and sitting on the couch, playing battles between the spawn and the guards in his head. The guards didn’t win frequently.
Finally, somepony came in to see him. It was a messenger who only stopped long enough to deliver a note to him before galloping off to do something else. Lore looked over the note, which simply told him that the army had arrived but hadn’t attacked, and that he should stay put.
So I’m just supposed to wait this out from this room, hoping that things go well? And if they don’t, am I meant to just cower here while the victorious spawn raid the city? But...what other choice do I have? I might be able to fling a few fireballs at the army, but I’m no trained soldier...I’d just get in the way out there. So I suppose all there is to do now is to sit...and to wait. I just wish I could at least know what was going on. I’m so used to being in control, at least somewhat. Not even knowing what the plan is, it’s...discomforting.
Lore checked the door to make sure it was locked and went back to his window to see what was going on. Over the last few hours the streets had quieted down, resuming what seemed to be an extremely uneasy normalcy. Ponies walked around with their heads to the ground, and there were far fewer of them on the streets than before.
A feeling of futility enveloped him as he glanced over to his unfinished work. He had been putting all of his effort into his job, and yet it had accomplished precious little. For all of his worry, all of his stress, it seemed nothing he had done would amount to anything. He turned his attention back to the ponies milling about in the streets.
And what of them, then? Is this truly the end for them all? So many lives, so many stories...will they all end in one fell strike? It doesn’t seem fair...though, I suppose life doesn’t generally care much about fairness. If it had, then none of this would have ever happened.
After gazing inattentively at the ponies below him for a long while, Lore finally tore his eyes away. He began to trot away from the window and to his bed, but stopped short when his hoof grazed a paper on the table. He turned absently to regard it and stared blankly at it for a moment, scanning over all the figures and descriptions that covered it. It all just seemed so pointless. He let out an involuntary snort and kicked his leg forward, causing the offending paper to flutter slowly to the ground. He trotted to his bed to sleep, and didn’t look back.
That night, Lore heard more screams. He was instantly roused from bed, trotting over to the window before he had even fully woken up. Outside, he could see ponies running around on the dimly lit streets, and for a moment he thought he spied a black shape dart between two ponies.
Wait, they...they attacked? They got past our defenses? Then...but that means…no, if this was all of them, there would have been more commotion. These must be scouts, or the like...yes, they must be...
Lore immediately shut the window, but it couldn’t drown out the noises from outside. He felt helpless, absolutely powerless to do anything to help anypony. He cursed his weakness as he sank down to the floor and leaned against the wall, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. The commotion lasted for several more hours, the sounds of screaming intertwining with the sporadic sounds of battle. It didn’t end until the sun came up in the morning, when the spawn apparently retreated.
That day Lore didn’t work at all. He hardly ate, electing to only nibble on a bit of leftovers from the previous day. His papers sat where he had left them the day before, and it seemed that it was just as well that they did, as the messengers that had been supplying him with new work and taking away his findings had dried up.
The city outside was eerily quiet, with only the low murmur of voices down below him. Lore didn’t know what they were talking about, and he didn’t care. All he knew is that everything that was happening was out of his control, and that the chances of defeating the spawn was slim to none.
It seems Tristan and Krik really are our only hope. All we can do now is try to survive as long as we can, but it’s ultimately pointless. Unless they accomplish their mission, there isn’t any chance of actually winning, just prolonging the inevitable. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for it to be like it was just a year ago, even...or better yet, before those blasted rifts started opening up! We didn’t know just how good we had it, then...and now those days are gone.
Try as he might to change them, Lore’s thoughts never diverted from their gloomy path. Despite the sun shining brightly outside, he could see no light at the end of the conflict. In time he began to cry, all notions of his dignity lost, as the stress of the conflict reduced him to nothing. Seemingly oblivious to the state of the world beneath it, the sun lazily crossed the sky as it always did, and eventually night fell again. Though Lore could feel the dark bags beneath his eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep.
Just as they had begun before, Lore heard screaming on the streets. This time, he didn’t even get up to open the window and see what was happening. He knew all too well that the spawn had returned to wreak more havoc, using the cover of the night to infiltrate the winding alleys of the city.
If they wanted to, they could just attack us head on, and we couldn’t do anything about it. Yet they attack in small groups in the night, for Celestia knows what reason. Are they just toying with us, now? Or do they want to minimize casualties so that the army can march right on to the next city? Are we just that insignificant to them? That they aren’t even willing to give us a fair fight?
Lore’s anger built up inside him until it finally came to burst. He let out a scream and turned to the table that was still covered in his scattered notes. “All I ever wanted to do was learn!” he shouted as he flipped the table with his hooves, magic seeming too precise for the matter at hoof. “A life of peace!” He stamped down on some of the papers. “Quiet!” he threw a broken leg of the table through the window, which shattered easily. “And tranquility!” He finally fell to the floor, clutching his throbbing head.
“What have I ever done to deserve this?” he muttered, his anger nearly spent. “I just...I just want to go back to how things were…”
Lore awoke to the warm sunlight on his fur. He groggily rubbed his eyes with his hoof and looked around him. Remembering the previous night, he gave a small scowl at his theatrics, but didn’t bother berating himself. He rummaged through the mini-fridge and retrieved some food for his rebelling stomach and ate it in silence, his attention directed at anywhere that wasn’t the broken table or window.
They must have forgotten about me. Nopony has come to check on me for some time. Is that how it goes? All this work, and when it starts getting really bad, I’m abandoned? Have I just outlived my usefulness?
Lore let out an undignified snort and went to the window, using his magic to instantly clean up the broken glass on the floor, as well as the jagged glass that still remained attached to the window frame, and dumped it in a nearby trash bin.
It’s just as well, I suppose. Not like they’d be able to do anything for me. Perhaps I could get myself evacuated from the city; my research has earned me that much, I’m sure. But even then, the princesses were right...if this city falls, and if our forces are defeated, fleeing won’t do any good. It’ll just delay things…
Lore paced around the room for some time, the lack of exercise getting to him somewhat. He was no stranger to long stretches spent in his office, but over a week without leaving the room wasn’t helping his stress. He periodically glanced out the window, though the scene never changed. The same depressing thoughts ran through his head again and again, as he had nothing to distract himself with.
Some hours into the day, he noticed that something was somewhat off. The light that the window cast into his room hadn’t moved in at least two hours. He stuck his head incredulously out the window to see where the sun was, and found that it was nowhere near where it ought to be. For a moment his heart dropped into his stomach, as he instantly pictured Celestia laying dead, assassinated by some spawn.
Celestia, did they...no! No, that doesn’t make any sense! Even if Celestia was killed, Luna would still be around to move the sun. And there hasn’t been any force inside the city strong enough to kill them both at once...has there? What would we do if they did die, though? Unicorns haven’t raised the sun or lowered the moon in millennia...even I don’t have any idea of how to do it…
Lore’s pacing quickened around his room, as he trotted in the same circle repeatedly. He wasn’t willing to believe that both princesses could have been dead, and so he convinced himself they stopped the sun for a reason. Despite that, a small smidgen of doubt and fear about the matter wouldn’t quite let itself be quashed.
Finally, Lore retired to his bedroom, after hours of muddling around the sitting room, attempting to distract himself. He lay motionless on the bed, wondering just how much longer this was going to go on. Through one eye he kept watch over the sunlight that streamed into his room, and he never noticed it moving at all. Finally, the comfort of his bed lulled him to sleep once more, despite his worries.
When Lore finally awoke his room was exactly as he had left it, though the air was markedly warmer than before. As he suspected, the sun hadn’t moved at all since the previous day. A glance to the clock on the wall told him it was what should have been early morning.
So the night passed, and there wasn’t a commotion outside. Regardless of the reasoning for it, then, the sun staying up worked out well. Without the darkness to sneak in under, no spawn would have had a chance to attack...but if they can’t do that, what will they do? Seems all I can do, once again, is wait...
He didn’t bother getting out of bed. He knew there was nothing out there for him to do, and he’d just end up returning to bed in the end. So he lay there, shifting to and fro in the sheets, not knowing what it was that he ought to be doing.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, something happened. Sirens suddenly began to blare, causing Lore to jerk his head up abruptly from his bed. He hastened his way to the window and looked outside, to see that ponies on the streets had already begun to run aimlessly around.
Sirens? But there weren’t any of those the previous nights when attacks were happening. Does that mean the main army has finally made a move?
Lore continued his vigil from the window, watching as things unfolded. It didn’t take long for everypony outside to rush indoors, leaving the streets eerily devoid of all movement, save for a few small papers fluttering in the wind. Lore could barely make out the sounds of fighting going on from far to the west, near where the armies had been standing off.
So they did attack, or somepony started something with them. Well, at least the waiting is likely over…
Rather than feeling fearful, Lore felt empty at the prospect of the rift spawn invading the city in earnest. After being nigh hopeless for so long, it seemed like the inevitable end to things. Even so, he still mustered the will to at least push the heavier furniture in front of the door and the windows, to avoid attracting spawn, and, if they did come after him, to hold them off.
The room was darker now, as the windows were now almost completely covered by furniture. The sounds of fighting, which had already been faint, were now almost imperceptible. The only other noises he could hear were the sound of his own breathing, coupled with the muffled sounds of hushed speaking in the room below his. There he sat, waiting for something to happen.
For several hours, nothing did. He sat there silently, his eyes rarely leaving the slivers of light that escaped through the cracks, having nothing else to do. Even the sounds below him completely stopped, leaving a ringing silence and nothing else. Lore couldn’t will himself to move, though even if he could, he saw little point in it. There was still nothing to be done.
Then, finally, after what must have been at least four hours, there was sound from outside. He could faintly hear the frantic yelling of ponies, though he couldn’t make out a thing. Still he sat; the only movements he made were those of his ears as they desperately tried to hear what was going on. Not long after the yells of ponies had begun, there were the cries of spawn.
The cries were met by an increasing number of wailing screams, as the spawn quickly passed by. Soon the sounds rose to an absolute bedlam, the discord of noises leaving each individual part absolutely incomprehensible. Lore trembled slightly where he sat, but he still did not move. Then, slowly, the sounds died down, going off into the distance. Apparently, the spawn were still moving in at least one large group, and had not yet come to stay in that section of the city.
While true silence did not return, as screams and wails could still be heard coming from inside the building and on the streets, it was nothing as it was before. Lore didn’t get up to check, not daring to unblock the window to see what was left in the wake of the spawn. He thought about everything and nothing, no particular thoughts rising to dominance over the din in his mind. He stayed that way for an indeterminate amount of time, the static light level disorienting him even further as to the passing of time.
Then, without warning, there was a pounding on his door. In an instant Lore’s attention was regained, his whirr of thoughts snapped back into absolute lucidity. Something had come, and it had chosen his door to take first.
“Lore! Open up! Please, open up!” a familiar voice shouted from outside.
“Nightingale?” Lore said absently. “Nightingale! Just a moment, I’m opening the door!” he shouted out, rising to his aching legs for the first time in hours and using his magic to hastily throw aside the dark shapes of furniture that barricaded the door. Then, using his magic to unlatch the lock, he opened it.
There stood Nightingale, one wing bleeding profusely, looking as if she was about to collapse, her white coat splattered with blood. Lore quickly lit the lights in the room, which had been neglected until now, and beckoned her in. As soon as she was inside, he slammed the door, locked it again, and moved the battered furniture back into place.
“Just what do you think you’re doing here, Nightingale? And what happened to you? Your wing!” Lore questioned, his attention turning to her mangled wing. Two long and deep gashes ran over it, the feathers around the wound hopelessly out of alignment.
“They went for the hospital, Lore! They just, they just…” Nightingale spat out, only barely finding her way to the couch before collapsing on it. “They’re all dead! All the patients, the other staff members...they just came in and…” She shuddered, face visibly wincing at the thought.
“So they went after the hospital? But why did you come to me?” Lore responded, feeling oddly calm given the situation. The emotions he felt at their encounter didn’t quite mask the emptiness he had been wallowing in, which kept him oddly grounded, in an almost dreamlike state.
“I just didn’t know where else to go...I only just got away, and I galloped as fast as I could. I’m lucky this was the only injury I got. If I wasn’t just coming back from running an errand, I wouldn’t have been so fortunate!” Nightingale replied, her attention turning to her wing. She tested it slowly, her attempt quickly quashed as the movement elicited a drawn out exclamation of pain. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fly any time soon. If I don’t clean this quickly, I might never fly again...”
“It’s not like it will matter, anyway,” Lore said curtly. “Do you think those spawn are going to stop after taking out our defenses? They’re just going to keep coming, and they’ll eventually find us. Even if they didn’t, I don’t have very much food, and the water won’t keep running indefinitely without maintenance. There’s no hope for us left.”
“Don’t say that!” Nightingale exclaimed, a sudden movement on her part eliciting another wince. “The princesses are still alive, so there’s still hope! There’s always hope!”
“So, they are still alive, huh?” Lore said, calmly slouching back down to a sitting position. “I thought they might have died. What with the sun and all.”
“Oh no, that was just to keep the spawn from attacking in the night. Hadn’t you noticed?” Nightingale said, her eyes scanning the room, locking position for a moment as they stared at the barricaded window.
“I figured as much. But you know as well as I that they aren’t invincible. Either they’ll flee, or they’ll die. It’s as simple as that,” Lore responded.
“But, they wouldn’t just…they must be able to do something!” Nightingale exclaimed. “They must have some sort of plan!”
“Hah! Do you know what the big plan was, Nightingale? What all of our hope has been hinging upon?” Lore laughed out, which instantly gained Nightingale’s full attention. “Tristan and Krik! Those two, trying to take out their leader alone! Other than that, we’ve got nothing!” he finished, his demeanor becoming increasingly unstable as the unspoken stress of the past few days was made manifest.
“Tristan?... But, if the princesses sent them, they must know what they’re doing!” Nightingale began. “They wouldn’t send those two out without good reason!”
“Don’t you get it?” Lore snarled back. “The princesses aren’t perfect! They’re doing what they can with what they’ve got, but they don’t have much of anything! We tried for the one-in-a-million chance, and look where that got us! It’s already over!” Tears began running down his muzzle as he halfway attempted to choke back his emotions. “It’s been over since the elements failed!”
Nightingale didn’t immediately respond, but looked away from Lore. Her eyes were drawn once more to the slender beams of light that escaped past the barricade that covered the window. “...If they’re our last hope; I’m just going to trust them. It’s all we can do. I’m just going to trust them…” she finally said, her voice trailing off.
Lore looked at her for a while, then turned his gaze away. “Your wing. We’ll need to bandage that up, if it’s ever going to get better. The adrenaline will leave you soon, and the pain will be setting in,” he said calmly. Nightingale slowly nodded, and so Lore arose once more and prepared some wet towels at the sink.
As they cleaned Nightingale’s wing, neither pony spoke, though Nightingale visibly fought to hold back her pain. Lore hardly thought at all, letting his mind fall into the bliss of distraction as he worked. Soon Nightingale’s wound was properly bound and cleaned, the risk of infection minimized. Nightingale offered a quiet thanks to Lore, which he accepted with a grunt.
There they sat, neither having anything to say, as they waited for something to happen. The commotion outside had slowly but surely died down, but they could hear what was unmistakably fighting elsewhere in the city. Each time a door slammed within the hotel, or a scream rang out nearby, Nightingale would jump a little from her seat. Lore had begun to zone out, the tension of the day causing him to mentally flee from the situation.
Eventually, after what was almost four hours by the clock on the wall, the sounds of major fighting elsewhere in the city had died down. There had been no cheers or the like, so a victory for the defenders was unlikely. Soon after that, while the sounds of fighting in earnest did not return, the screams began to pick up again.
Nightingale began shivering, her eyes clenched tightly shut as the screams continued growing nearer. “All those ponies getting hurt…” she mumbled. “They need me. Lore, they need me!” she suddenly exclaimed, her eyes growing wide as she arose from her seat with shaky legs.
“Sit back down!” Lore barked at her, which caused her to freeze. “I won’t have any of your nonsense now!”
Nightingale said nothing but looked pleadingly at Lore, before eventually slumping back down, her gaze turning to the blank wall.
“You know as well as I do that there’s nothing you can do for any of them. I don’t want to restrain you, but if you’re going to keep that foolishness up I will, for your own good,” Lore said resolutely as he looked at her with a hint of disdain.
“Don’t you feel anything, Lore?” Nightingale asked dreamily. “All of the ponies dying out there, don’t you feel anything for them? Don’t you want to help?”
Lore was silent for a moment. “We don’t get that choice. We don’t have that luxury. It won’t do any good to pretend that what we might do matters…” he finally answered quietly.
Nightingale’s eyes began to water, tears coming close to falling. As Lore saw it, for a moment he felt contempt for her weakness, but then he began to think.
Can I really blame her? All I’ve been doing is sitting here wallowing in self-pity for the last few days...she just wants to help. It may be simple naivety, but in truth, I suppose that’s an envious state. When you know too much, when you think too much, hope can be hard to come by. I shouldn’t shoot her down...not in our final hours…
Lore’s expression softened as Nightingale’s tears began to fall, her hoof covering her eyes as she attempted to wipe them clean. He gave a sigh, got up, and slowly trotted over to where Nightingale was. It seemed as if she hadn’t even noticed him. He clambered up onto the couch and pressed himself to her, which caused her to choke away her crying.
Nightingale turned her head to face Lore, but before she could speak, he cut her off. “Don’t say anything. Just stop your damned blubbering,” he said with a hint of a smile. Nightingale stared at him blankly for a moment before returning a halfhearted smile of her own. Though the screams grew nearer, and the cries of the spawn were becoming clearer, neither pony shivered or cried. Together they sat, awaiting their end.
Soon the sounds made their way into the very hotel they were staying at, as the walls shook slightly in accompaniment to the sound of the main doors being smashed open. Being on the fourth floor, they knew they still had a little time left.
How thorough are they even being? Will they clear every door in this sweep? Will they just take a few? Will they even ascend the stairs? I almost hope they’ll find us...death might be preferable to waiting, at this point.
Hysterical screaming was coming from downstairs, though Lore didn’t even flinch. He stared resolutely at the door, as if expecting something to burst through it at any moment. His gaze was not a harsh one, waiting for an attack, but a weary one. He knew that if something came inside, he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight, and even if he could, it wouldn’t matter anyway. The only thing left to do was accept death with what shreds of dignity he had left.
Lore turned his gaze to Nightingale for a moment. Her eyes were tightly closed shut, her head resting on the couch as she was halfway curled up. At each crescendo of screams she shook slightly, and Lore could see the muscles in her face stretched taut as she grit her teeth in an attempt to deal with the stress.
She shouldn’t have to go through this. She may be a bit too soft, but really, is that bad? Is the world really better for hard, grim ponies like me, instead of soft, kindly ponies like her? All of my hard work and seriousness has amounted to nothing, but she’s managed to save lives on a regular basis. She deserves a bit of kindness in return…but it’s too late for that now.
Lore’s gaze returned to the door as he returned his focus away from his thoughts. There was something amiss now, though, something he couldn’t quite place. Nightingale still lay next to him, screams echoed through the city, the lights on the walls emitted gentle hums, but something was missing. He just couldn’t quite place what it was.
“Nightingale…” Lore said softly, to which she rose her head. “Do you hear any spawn?”
Their ears both sought out the sounds of spawn, and they eventually heard some farther away. However, it was nothing like how it had been before. While it seemed every single spawn in the city had been intent on being as loud as possible previously, now their noise was all but gone. The screams that plagued the city were also dying down, to be replaced by sobbing.
“What happened, Lore? Did they stop? What’s happening?” Nightingale asked uncertainly.
“I...I don’t know,” Lore said. He turned to the barricaded window and removed the furniture from it with a single burst of magic, letting the sunlight re-enter the room. He thrust his head outside and looked to the street below them.
At ground level there was devastation. Bodies littered the streets, both of guards and spawn, though the corpses of the former vastly outnumbered the latter. Windows had been smashed, signs had been uprooted from their foundations, and blood ran freely through the street.
Towards one of the buildings he saw a single spawn. The thing was quadrupedal and covered in scales, and seemed to be sniffing around for something. Then, another spawn, this one larger than the first, emerged from a nearby entryway to a shop and immediately charged at the smaller, which couldn’t get away in time and was snapped up in the maw of the larger. Lore immediately withdrew from the window and collapsed on the floor.
“What was it? What did you see?” Nightingale questioned, apparently afraid to go to the window herself. Lore sat there dumbstruck, his brain failing to process what he just saw.
“There was carnage out there, and a spawn...a single spawn...it got attacked by another one!” Lore said slowly. “One of the spawn, it attacked another spawn! It attacked another spawn!”
Nightingale immediately ran to the window and looked out, before almost instantly turning back with a queasy look on her face. “I didn’t see any spawn out there, but those bodies...I’ve seen a lot but, those bodies…”
Wait...Lore, you’re better than that. There’s an exception to every rule, and you only saw one spawn do that. That doesn’t mean they’re all turning on eachother. But then, the cries just stopping, the screams dying down, and that, all happening so quickly...that couldn’t just be coincidence, could it? But then, why? How? What’s going on?
“You said earlier than Tristan was going off to do something, to try to take out their leader, didn’t you?” Nightingale said, hope rising in her voice. “Do you think they did it? Could this be it?”
“Tristan and Krik? Well, if the leader died, then maybe...but they set out over a week ago? Could they really have?...” Lore said, trailing off as he was lost in thought for a moment, consolidating the new information in his mind. “They must have. They must have done it. Nightingale, I think they’ve done it!” he shouted, energy suddenly returning to him.
For a moment the two embraced each other as they involuntarily burst out laughing. Lore noticed what he was doing quickly and disengaged himself from the embrace, but didn’t dampen his spirits.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself here, but if they really did, there really is hope! There’s more than just hope! We might just have won!” Lore exclaimed.
“But wouldn’t there still be spawn left? Even if they killed the leader?” Nightingale asked.
“If they were working together that’d be an issue. But now they’re just animals! Beasts! Without cooperation, they don’t stand a chance! And with how many were travelling together...they must be massacring each other!” Lore answered.
Suddenly, they heard more commotion from outside. Lore craned his neck out of the window while Nightingale stayed back, and he saw several rift spawn fighting each other on the street. More interesting than that, though, was the group of ponies coming from farther down the street. Guards, beaten and battered but still alive, were charging down the street, bellowing their fiercest battle cries. They crashed into the embattled rift spawn and swiftly slew their enemies.
Lore let out a cheer for them, though it seemed to be unnoticed. Upon closer examination, he noticed that he recognized one of them. Wielding a great bloodsoaked hammer was none other than Noble Cause, currently stomping the neck of a dying spawn. Lore cried out to him but Noble apparently didn’t hear, as one of the guards barked out some order and the group rounded a corner to another street and disappeared from view.
“It’s really happening! The guards are already pushing back! And Noble’s with them!” Lore exclaimed gleefully. “Equestria is saved! The next time I see those two...well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be good!”
Lore and Nightingale spent the rest of the day still locked in Lore’s room, but for the first time in months, Lore felt secure.
Lore snapped himself out of his reminiscence, taking note of the sun’s position in the sky and realizing that he needed to get home for the night. He gave one more long look at the statue of Tristan and Krik before trotting away.
It would have been nice to see them again. When I heard that the bomb had been used, and that they never came back...that was hard to take. Harder than it ought to have been, what with all the ponies dying back then. I must have grown more attached to them than I realized at the time…
Lore wound through the streets, passing through the main marketplace on his trot. The area wasn’t nearly as crowded as it was during earlier parts of the day, with only a few ponies doing some last minute shopping. They were all going about their lives so peaceably, so happily. Lore let a small smile creep onto his face as he continued onwards.
Sometimes it seems like none of that ever happened. Like it was all just some terrible nightmare. We’re not exactly where we were prior to the rifts, but the way ponies act these days...it’s like they’ve finally come to peace with the things that happened. I suppose five years is quite the long time, especially for the younger generations.
He was out of the main marketplace now, getting to the fringes where some of the less posh shops were kept. Many of them were still closed, their owners having died during the crisis. Shops nearer the main marketplace were all open, but that was due more to new ponies wanting the prime real estate than any discrimination on the part of the spawn. One shop, still doing business despite two closed shops adjacent to it, caught his eye.
The Golden Elixir stood clean and well-maintained, a drastic contrast to many of the shops that were rapidly becoming shabbier by the day. It still sported the same sign above it, nailed in the very same spot where Tristan had put it so long ago. On a whim Lore entered it, and he was immediately greeted by the zebra inside.
“Welcome to my humble store, where I’m sure I’ve got just the thing to make your spirits soar!” a grown Shauku greeted happily, before realizing who it was that walked in. “Lore! I had not expected you to be coming through my door!”
“I was just in the area, and thought I’d stop by,” Lore responded, taking in the shop. It was much the same as it was when Tristan worked it, save for a few Zebrican decorations that now adorned the walls.
“I’m always glad to see a friend stop by. Perhaps there might be some potion of mine that you’d like to try?” Shauku asked, motioning to the potions that sat on the immaculately clean shelves.
“Still going at that rhyming thing, are you? You’re getting better,” Lore commented as he examined a few of the potions.
“To keep my kin’s culture alive, I must honor it in all the ways which I may contrive,” Shauku responded without missing a beat.
Lore finally decided upon a potion that sounded interesting, which promised to help the imbiber to recall things forgotten. He lifted it from the shelves with his magic and swirled it around in its vial, its dull orange color contrasting to the blue of his magic.
One would think a potion like this wouldn’t exactly be in demand. There’s a lot ponies these days just don’t want to remember.
“What can you tell me about this one?” Lore asked Shauku, presenting the potion to him.
“Ah, with one drink of that potion of orange, memories lost shall be...shall be…” Shauku began haltingly. “I always fall for that one…”
Lore chuckled slightly and put the potion back. “Seems you’re not quite as good at rhyming as most zebras just yet. But don’t worry about it right now; frankly I’m rather tired of formalities and procedure at the moment. Can we just speak plainly?”
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind a break from that. It’s hard!” Shauku said, trotting over to the window and flipping the sign to closed. “What did you want to chat about?”
“Just...things. I’ve been thinking about it again,” Lore said solemnly.
“You know you shouldn’t be dwelling on the past, Lore. Weren’t you the one that told me that?” Shauku said knowingly, trotting behind the counter and retrieving stools for them to sit upon.
“Yes, I suppose. Those days still haunt me, though. I think they always will,” Lore said sadly, taking a seat. “I find myself thinking about Tristan and Krik more frequently now, as I’m getting reports of new intelligent spawn being found. Sometimes I want to get a chance to examine one, but I think it might be a little painful…”
Shauku looked at Lore expectantly for a moment before speaking. “It’s not your fault they’re gone, you know. You did everything you could. Their legacy will live with every sapient species in Equestria, and especially with every intelligent spawn that now survives.”
“I don’t think they’d have cared much about legacy. Tristan just wanted to get home. And I wasn’t able to help him do it,” Lore said sadly. “I should have tried more. There must have been something I could have done. I was just so caught up with trying to save Equestria, I didn’t think enough about their wellbeing.”
“You’ve really changed, Lore,” Shauku said suddenly. “I remember when you were all about business and efficiency, to the point of always being cold and blunt. As I recall you thought of Tristan more as something to be researched than as a friend. Now look at you; you’re practically a normal pony!”
“And what’s that supposed to mean? That I’m not efficient now?” Lore said haughtily.
“No no, don’t get me wrong!” Shauku said with a small laugh. “You’re still plenty efficient, what with all the work you’re still doing. You’re just, well, nicer.”
Lore was silent for a moment. “I blame you lot. Before you, and Nightingale, and Noble, and Tristan...and to some degree Krik, I didn’t have to deal with so many ponies being sappy. And non-ponies. You’ve all been making me soft.”
“Believe me, it’s an improvement! And I mean that in the nicest way possible!” Shauku assured. “Even coming here is an improvement; it means you’re coming to value friendship!”
“I suppose so,” Lore said, his eyes turning to the window and noticing the waning light. “But all the same, I had best be off. It’s going to be getting dark, soon.” He arose from his stool and started to trot to the door.
“Don’t be a stranger, alright? I went through a lot of the same things. It helps to talk,” Shauku said as Lore left, not yet standing up.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Lore said as he opened the door and left. The sun was in the process of setting as he looked to the horizon, half of its mass already below the horizon. Lore watched it for a few moments before turning away and beginning to trot home.
That day, I had given up all hope that the sun would ever set again. That life would ever return to anything like what it was. But it did, and it has. Despite everything, we’ve pulled through. And dammit, we’ll thrive!
