//------------------------------// // 5 - Outset // Story: Exile’s Journey // by Meep the Changeling //------------------------------// Gentle Repose - 24th of Leaffall, 16 EoH Akabanian Forest - Griffon Kingdoms I had a small problem with my plan to avoid death. Not with the hastily improvised one to get Felling out of the country, but with the larger ‘don’t die ever because it’s scary’ plan. There wasn’t any literature available to me for comparing my experiences to other litches. For example, I knew something was not quite right with my phylactery. Not in any important way, but by lore, I should have been able to see and hear everything happening around it. Perhaps the extra work I had mine do caused the problem, but all I could sense around ‘me’ was movement and the vague positions of objects. Without an intact body, I couldn’t hear, see, or smell a thing. At least I could still feel emotions. I'd taken care to ensure that I would. Not that emotions were much help when I was draped across somepony's shoulders, being run through what I assumed was either a forest or a large field of upright cylinders, unable to know anything more about my surroundings or situation than those facts. Boredom kept emotions at bay for much longer than I had expected to be disabled. A few hours if I was keeping track of time correctly. And I was. Because I sort of live in a watch, and could feel its hands move. I'd had three hours of absolutely nothing to do aside from be upset that nopony had told me they returned my sister to her original grave. Glave had been an excellent commander. She did such a good job for father. I'd always been glad my transformation disqualified me from inheriting his position, simply because of how much better of a Commander Glave was in life. In undeath that of course remained, and the still living commanders knew it. She'd been taken to a training academy to assist in training around a hundred years ago. I had no idea they put her back. I'd have visited. Either they returned her this morning, or nopony had bothered to tell me she had been returned sometime in the last month. I had not been tending to the front of my section for the last twenty two days, it was entirely possible they had somepony else put her back. On a different note, her punches still hurt like nothing else I'd ever experienced. I could remember the first time she hit me. I had asked for it. Literally. I needed to know if my transformation had worked. It had, and she did punch me, but only because my eyes had turned from yellow to red and she had assumed I was a poorly disguised changeling. Ow. Great. The nerves were working again. At least my senses should come back soon. Can I cast spells yet? Finish up the regeneration myself and stop feeling like my face was punched into a crude bowl? I reached for my magic, but felt nothing. My horn was probably still impaled through the brain someplace. I wish I could punch like she did. Of course, she’d always wished she could pay attention to texts like I could. We all have our own talents. We all have our own cases of envy. My hearing came back with a loud pop, Fell’s voice immediately filling them mid ramble. “... that was the fourth battle I was ever in. First one where things got relatively bad for us. “You know, when I was younger, I used to believe that headshots were just as dangerous for changelings as they are for anything else. Stupid, I know. But you tell a young adult how to kill other things effectively, and barely cover other changelings and well… I think I’m allowed to misunderstand a few things at first. “My point is, I took a bolt through my head in that battle and spent the rest of it panicking and waiting to drop dead, only for a healer to call me an idiot and explain that insects don't work that way. But I almost killed myself by scrambling around leaking hemolymph everywhere and making the cracks in my exoskeleton worse. “Not a good time when it happened, but it makes me smile to think back about how green I used to be, you know?” I did know. I knew quite well, and this was exactly the sort of conversation I liked to be a part of. Especially when I was trying to ignore the fact that my entire life had just collapsed all for the sake of ensuring the safety of a friend. Not that I regretted saving Fell, not at all. I regretted the fact that I did not know where I was going to be sleeping tonight, or tomorrow, or for any of the days to come. The loss of what little equipment I had for my craft weighed heavily on me as well. A nice pleasant conversation with the friend I just sacrificed my home and all my possessions for would have been lovely to have. Unfortunately, my mouth was too damaged to function. Curse the rules of necromancy! If only a basic physical structure composed of organic tissue were not required for an undead creature to possess a particular capability. “Well, here’s the old chapel,” Felling suddenly mentioned out of the blue. “Bit further away than I remembered it being. But it’s the right one. Caved in roof, soot blackened walls, overgrown with ivy… Huh, I know you can’t speak right now, but can you see it? “I think you’d like it. It’s a nice old building with that signature griffon ‘cuboid with octagonal spires capped with a dome’ design. I wish it wasn’t so badly ruined. I’d make sketches. I’d bet you’d have fun looking at the inside too. I don’t think many ponies know what the griffons worship. That’s right up your alley.” It was. I didn’t even know the griffons had a religion. Of course, nothing indicated they didn’t have some form of faith. Yes, some nations lacked a supernatural element to their culture, especially those with unicorns in them, but I’d imagine that superstition would thrive in a species unable to cast spells or sense magical energy. The world would likely seem much more mysterious and random. Come to think of it, griffons might not understand magic as a natural fasset of the world and think of magic itself as supernatural. This could be quite interesting and informative! Why did I not think to study non-pony cultures before? Ah well, it certainly was an activity to partake in from now on. This chapel had to be a fascinating trove of knowledge! Come on eyes, reform enough to work! I’d accept the hazy black and white vision an intact eye socket would provide as well. You can do it passive repair charm! … It can’t do it. I should have invested more time and power into the little thing while constructing my phylactery. “Okay, Reep, I’m going to put you down now so I can go dig up my armor,” Fell informed as I felt myself slowly shifted to one side and then set against the ground. “I’ll keep talking so you know where I am. Um… Unless you can see without eyes. “I’ve seen skeletons doing construction work before so uh, it would be cool to get sort of an overview of how you work. You know, when you can talk again.” Mmm, yes he was do one of those anyways. I’d most certainly- I felt the loud crunch of bone fusing back together just before I could feel my jaw again. The flesh connecting to it was definitely still mangled and detached, but with the jaw itself intact, I should be able to manage. Doing my best to push the magic animating my body to do as I willed I asked, “Is this comprehensible?” I would have winced if I were capable. The voice I could manage to produce was oddly warbly and static filled. Like a slightly mistuned radio. “Ahhh!” Fell yelped, a loud thump following his startled remark. “Bucking ponyfeathers! That sounds nothing like you at all!” “Of course not. I don't have a working tongue. I have to approximate everything with magic,” I explained. “Well um… If you’re not dead right now, can you magic it fixed?” Fell asked. “No,” I answered. “My horn isn’t remotely in the right location to be used yet. You could pull it out of my cranium and into rough place to speed things along, if you don't mind.” “Er, why don’t you?” He asked, clearly grossed out by the concept. “Neck’s still broken. I can’t do anything with my body at the moment. I should have anchored myself to the barrel not the head,” I lamented. “I could give you that explanation now, if you like.” “Please! Just um… Hold on, I’ll help you real quick,” I heard Fell say as he stepped closer. I heard him take a deep breath, followed by the slight slurp of cranial matter being disturbed. “There. I um, I think that’s better. Is it working now?” He asked. I went ahead and reached for my magic, not to cast any spell but just preparing myself to cast. “Is it glowing?” I asked. “A few sparks… But not glowing,” Fell answered. “Well, it should be working soon, in the meantime… How much do you know about undead creatures?” I asked, wishing I could do my usual ‘professor’ voice. “Er, that they exist,” Fell admitted, coughing lightly. “Y-you lived in Prance, and that’s all you know?” I asked, honestly surprised. “Well, yeah! I’d have learned more if I’d gotten into logging. I mean, I didn't get hired for that because you guys have undead doing all the grunt work,” Fell muttered bitterly. For the life of me I would never understand why a changeling who liked carpentry would attempt to disguise himself as a lumberjack. I’d need to ask about that later. “Very well, there are two types of undead,” I said, beginning my impromptu lecture. “The first are Mindless Undead. These are little more than animated remains a mage has created to do a specific task. They do not think or feel, they are magically powered mechanical apparatus which happen to be built from the remains of the once living. “The other is Sapient Undead. These are magically powered mechanical apparatus which contain the consciousness of a living being, and as you can see in my case, can be almost indistinguishable from a living person at a glance.” I heard the sound of a shovel biting into dirt. “Like vampires?” “Well, yes and no,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to get too far off topic. “Vampires are only technically undead. Vampirism is transmissible due to it being caused by a virus which has some natural magic power of its own. Porphyric Hemophilia, to be specific. As the person who becomes a vampire does die and is then reanimated by the virus, they are technically undead, but they are closer to a living organism.” “But they die, and then come back, right?” Fell asked, sounding very confused. “The vampire dies briefly, yes, only so the virus can take over the systems their body uses to keep them alive and restart them, causing the person to live again using systems the virus creates. Their ‘death’ only lasts for a few seconds. Like how swapping the managem in an enchanted item for a different one will ‘kill’ the item for a while. Vampires are therefore classified as living creatures, specifically symbiotes, and are the product of biomancy, not necromancy.” “Well, you seem alive. Soooo…” Fell prompted. I chuckled. “Liches are proper undead. We are not common enough to be accurately studied. But we are undead. You can completely destroy my body, and I will keep existing. My existence doesn't depend on my biology. This makes me undead. A vampire, however, will die if they do not feed. That’s the difference. Well, the reason for different classifications anyway. I am extremely different from a vampire in lots of other ways too. “Let’s start with, well, me. This body is a puppet. That’s the best way to describe it. What I am, is the original person who lived in this body. I gathered every thought, emotion, and memory which makes me who I am and after copying my brain’s architecture through arcane means, transfered my ‘self’ into my watch. Uh, I used it because the gemstone set into it- nevermind. That’s not important.” “Sooo… The watch is you?” Fell asked curiously. “My watch is me, yes,” I confirmed. “My body is linked to my ‘self’ via magic. It works just like it used to. Mostly.” “Mostly?” Fell asked, grunting slightly. “Stupid root…” It was rather embarrassing to admit, but, well, I did owe Fell the explanation. “I-I’m certain you've noticed how I can easily become lost in thought? I’ve always been a thinking pony, my special talent is lateral thinking after all. But… As I am now, I can easily become distracted and forget to make my body do things. I’m sure you have seen me-” “Stand staring at the wall for several hours then feverishly jot down like five pages of notes?” Fell asked with a small giggle. “Yes. That,” I admitted, feeling my ears droop. Oh good! Those muscles were attached again. “So, if I understand this right, you’re saying that you put your brain into your watch. Right?” He asked. “Yes,” I confirmed. “And my body is a blank shell which I operate remotely. Not that it feels like I am literally controlling a puppet. See, most liches immediately go insane upon their transformation because it does feel like controlling a puppet for them. I fixed that. “I- I was very afraid of dying and could find no other easy means of living as long as I wished to, so I did my best to solve as many problems with the phylacteries functionality as I could. It took me twenty years, and lots of custom built enchanted devices to aid in the transition, but I managed to create the current me. A nearly seamless stable link between my consciousness and my body, while keeping them separate. “There are some major drawbacks. The range limit for one. If I go beyond a certain radius from my phylactery, the ‘link’ breaks down and my body will die as the magic animating it can’t be transmitted that far. If destroyed, or beyond my reach, I take much longer than the other known liches to form a new body. I also am only half as powerful as the one litch I was able to get an actual thaumaturgic reading on. See, the main reason a unicorn might become a lich is the great boost to arcane power.” “But not you?” Fell asked. “No, not at all. I was already plenty powerful for my needs. I just don’t want to die,” I clarified. “Nopony wants to die, but most of us don’t turn into a watch to avoid it… Well, my sister turned into an anvil once. But that’s different. Cuz changebug,” Fell said half to himself. Ponyfeathers… How to avoid sounding like the biggest nerd in the universe as well as the most pathetic dweeb? “Um, I thought ‘changebug’ was a racial slur,” I informed wearily, hoping to dodge the question. “It is if you don’t know us and call us that. Because it’s a term of endearment. It’s rude to use it if you’re not close,” Fell explained. “So, why the extra big fear of death.” I felt my windpipe uncrush, allowing me to sigh. “Do I have to say?” I asked pleadingly. “Yes!” Fell practically shouted. “I need to know.” Tartarus… Even my sister thought I was a total idiot after I explained myself to her. This would not end well. “When I was thirty two, which was about five hundred and thirteen years ago, the astronomer Star Chart invented the reflecting telescope and decided to look in detail at the wandering stars. Or as you know them now, planets,” I began. “I like to know things. And as I learned there are more worlds than our own, I realized we knew nothing about the new ones. “Like the big burnt orange one, why is it orange? Is the haze around it a magical aura, or some trick of the light and air? What sort of creatures might live there? Have they invented a better kind of drink than us? Is the airspeed velocity of an unladen pegasus consistent across different planets? Why the buck do measurements collapse a quantum wave function?! “I-I have too much curiosity to let those questions go. I also realized I would never get to learn the answers to my questions even by reading books. They would not exist before my lifetime was over. That realization snowballed into ever growing dread as I realized I would never be able to sate my curiosity because I would always die with unanswered questions. And that horrified me. So I fixed it.” “Okay,” Fell said in a normal and accepting tone of voice. “Okay?” I replied in honest surprise. “Yeah. I don’t feel the same way, but you were clearly so scared that you carved your brain out of your head and stuck it into a watch. It’s also not just an arrogant power hungry reason… And I don't think I’ve ever heard you swear. So I know you’re serious,” Fell said the sound of a shovel hitting something hard punctuating his sentence. “Mmm… Yes, pardon my Equish. It’s just, well, have you ever tried to figure out why they collapse? It’s perhaps the single most confusing, infuriating, and yet, fascinating phenomenon in all of nature,” I grumbled. Stupid waveforms. Not working with any semblance of logic or sense… “Can’t say that I have,” Fell replied. “Last question for now. Because I imagine you have questions for me. You said that you are not always undead, but that kinda contradicts-” “Oh! No no no!” I said quickly, hoping to cut him off before his train of thought caused a conflict with my explanation. “I, me, the consciousness, am undead because I do not depend on biology to exist. My body on the other hand, can be composed of living tissue if well cared for. It can be alive if my magic keeps it in good shape and it gets fuel. If it happens to be damaged, or otherwise die, it then becomes undead and animates so I may keep using it, assuming that it is relatively intact. “I can restore it to life later via repair as well. It’s just meat. I on the other hoof, am technically not my body. And as I am not biologically driven, yet alive, I am undead.” “Ohhh! Got it,” Fell exclaimed. “I um… It’s hard to think of a mind and a body as separate things.” “Yes. It is. It’s hard to think of myself that way non-academically,” I admitted. “Well then, your turn. I understand why a Sapphire changeling would not reveal themselves as such, but why are you here? Why are you not-” “Rotting in the desert with the rest of my mind slaved kin, helping to feed whatever creatures can live out in the sands?” Felling asked bitterly. “Oh… Yes…” I said timidly. “I’m sorry, I forgot they were killed.” “It’s for the best,” Fell sighed. “I’m here because very early on, I deserted the hive. I left during the Canterlot invasion. It’s the first thing Chrysalis led us on. And was the first time she used what she called a ‘battle coordination spell’ to ‘enable’ us to act as one. Yeah no, that was a blatant mind control spell. Same one that the Overmind used to control all of our ancestors.” “Overmind?” I asked curiously. “I’m afraid I haven’t studied Changelings in much detail.” “Hang on, I gotta pull the bag out of the hole,” Fell said before grunting with effort and then dropping something remarkably light next to himself. “There. Now to make sure it’s all okay. I’ll keep talking while I work.” “After two years it should be quite rusted. If you wait I can clean-” “No need, this stuff doesn't rust,” Fell said, cutting me off. “So a long long time ago, back before pony civilizations were a thing. Our species either made or just have always had an overmind. To make a long story short, we used to be way more like ants than ponies. Then a unicorn kicked the Overmind’s ass, not that it had one, and we became like we are now. Independent, free-thinking creatures. Rather than a singular organism made up of lots of lifeforms. “Chrysalis was old as tartarus. Her mom was one of the first thirteen Queens, and she was the first of the second generation to hatch. She must have learned the control spell back then… Don’t know why she never used it on her own hive though.” “Her own hive?” I asked. “She wasn’t always the Saphire’s Queen?” “No,” Fell said flatly. “What color were her shell and eyes?” “Uhh…” I thought back for some time, eventually deciding on. “A pale green if I was told correctly.” “Right. She was meant to be the Emerald changeling’s Queen. Changelings are not like ponies. Our colors mean things. A lot of us go a bit nuts trying to work out what pony colors mean when we first leave the hive. I was convinced that teal maned ponies were designated as law enforcers until I saw some working construction… Uh, sorry. Bunny trailed. “Anyways, our colors are not natural, or rather, original. Old changelings were all black. After Princess Celestia used the Elements to scatter our species thousands of years ago, we developed our colors. And some of us managed to become Queens. “Our original Queen was nice, her name was Jiira. You can tell she isn't from the original 13 Queen’s family because she has a Changelish name, instead of a Royal name. But yeah, she was cool. Kind, conciterate of everyling. Enjoyed our holy task of guarding the temple-” “Wait, temple?” I asked curiously, hoping Fell wouldn’t mind the interruption. “Mhm. We found an ancient temple and made it our new hive after the Dispersal. I’ll tell you more about it later,” Fell said, pausing for a moment as a few things clicked. “Oh good, those were just stiff. Anyways, Queen Jiira welcomed Chrysalis to stay with our hive when she sort of wandered in out of the cold without her hive one day. She claimed they had all died in the desert, save her. “That was total ponyfeathers right there, but we didn’t know it at the time. Four months later Jiila ‘mysteriously’ is infected with cordyceps fungi and dies. Chrysalis is made our new Queen by vote because she contained the fungi before it spread. A few months later, she proclaimed that our Lord had spoken to her and that we must take back control of the sun from Equestria. “I didn’t buy it, because as part of the Distortion Corps, I spent a LOT of time guarding the inner sanctum and yeah, the gods may speak through their alter on rare occasions, but noling I know of knows what the buck they are saying because it’s ether gibberish or a language no one alive knows anymore. “Problem is everyling else did. Well, not everyling. But most of us did. The Amber hive wasn’t too far from us, and we traded with them. Especially livestock they had some VERY well bred po-” Fell quickly cut himself off with a loud cough. “I um, not that I think you're a rabbit or something. It’s just um… That’s the closest word for ponies we would keep in the hive…” “Were they mistreated?” I asked simply. “N-no. Of course not. We eat love. If anything, they were some of the most pampered and cared for ponies who ever lived! Each one of them had to feed at least six of us on their affections,” Fell objected. “Did they want to leave?” I asked. “A few were curious about the outside world, but well, they grew up in the hive. Most ponies saw themselves as a part of it. You, you seem okay with this. Are you okay with it?” Fell asked in concern. “Yes. Everything living needs to eat. It would be one thing if you enslaved them, but I can’t object to a species doing what it needs to in order to live. So long as it’s not hurting sapients,” I said comfortingly. Fell let out a deep breath. “Oh thank the gods! I-I lost my last lo-friend when he learned our hive didn’t do ‘farming’. Sure, our ancestors did kidnap a few of the starting ponies, but most of them were abandoned foals, homeless ponies who were just happy to not be rained on, that sort of thing… Anyways, the Amber Hive learned Chrysalis planned on attacking Equestria, and since that went SOOOO well for her mom and totally didn’t buck over our entire species they decided to stop her. “They did not… I herd there is one Amber changeling left alive. I’m happy about that. I like to think it’s the one I let run away. At least they took a lot of us with them, the war was unjust. We deserved the heavy losses. I got hurt bad and was put into hibernation to heal. Cuz we had like, five soldiers left and I was the only elite left standing. So I don’t know anything about the time after that. “It took our hive a few centuries to build our numbers back up. But once we did, I was woken up and then the whole Canterlot thing happened. Chrysalis used her spell to control us all in the hopes of that lessening casualties, and I broke free of it when she ordered us to begin capturing ponies to take back and use as livestock so we could breed more warriors. “I-I like ponies. I didn’t mind our hive having pseudo-captives because they didn’t mind feeding us. Most of them were our friends, like, genuinely our friends. But to actually take slaves, and civilian slaves at that… It felt wrong. It went against everything I had ever stood for and loved about our people. “That shock to the system snapped me free from her control… I went a bit berserk, killed a few of my brothers… Then ran when I realized what I’d done and was happening… I went full red haze, even realizing we were all mindslaved vanished for a bit. And that’s what pissed me off in the first place.” I searched for the most appropriate wording I could find to lend Fell the comfort and understanding his bitter, depressed, and angry state deserved. “That sucks,” I said. Wow. Fail. “Yeah. It did,” Fell agreed. Oh thank goodness! Suddenly, the nothingness around me turned into patches of light and dark. I had eye sockets again. That meant my skull was probably intact enough for my horn to work. “One moment,” I said, reaching for my magic again. This time I felt a slight tingle in my horn. It was working. Taking a deep breath I focused myself as well as I could and cast a hooffull of repair and healing spells, sculpting my face back into it’s proper shape. A few minutes of hard work later, and I could properly see. And feel my legs. And also stand. It was nice to be able to stand again. I had fully intended to investigate the chapel as soon as my sight returned, but as I stood up, Fell came into view from behind the mound of dirt he had dug up. And so did his armor. I’d never seen anything like it. And I worked with military hardware and assets for the last five hundred years. At first I thought it might be a shed exoskeleton fashioned into armor, because it was mostly composed of smooth black plates which were extremely form fitting. But that was not the case The sleek plates were metal, flat black with a white stripe edged in blue going up Fell’s right foreleg and stopping on his shoulder. He had a third of the armor on his body, his normal changeling body, and side by side you could tell it wasn’t chitin. The armor also didn’t have straps. It seemed to have a series of locks which provided seamless gap-free protection, while maintaining almost all of one’s natural flexibility. Whatever that armor was, it was certainly mastercrafted, and expertly designed. As I realized the armor’s plants were curved in such a way as to optimise the armor for protection against ranged attacks, I knew the chapel would have to wait. “What sort of armor is that?” I asked. “Er… I don’t know. It’s really good though. The Gods made it for us. But only one hundred and eighty nine, then they stopped. So only the Distortion Corps got some,” Fell rambled locking the second arm into place. “Seems like everything is still working.” “Wait, your gods made it?” I asked, brain swimming in curiosity. “How?” “Queen Jiila asked for protection for her warriors at the altar and these materialised in the armory. That’s not bullshit, they were not there before. We’d already cleaned it out,” Fell answered. “Wait, that’s conjured armor?” I asked, head tilting. “How old is it?” “Older than me. It was my mother's before me. And fathers before her,” Fell answered. “Sooo maybe two thousand seven hundred years? Why is that important?” “Because conjured items should break down into dust within thirty years!” I objected. “The stability of conjured matter has never been known to exceed-” “Magic didn’t make these,” Fell laughed. “We’re not stupid, or superstitious. The gods made these for us, and they didn’t use magic to do it. Our shamans tried for ages to work out what they do to make items like this without magic, but well… They can’t. Magic isn’t used to do it. But here it is. It’s impossible. So we call their creators gods since they can do things we can’t.” “Huh…” I said to myself slowly. “Is there any chance I could get to see your old h-” “Hello the camp!” Somepony called. I wheeled around. There had been no noise, nor scent, nor anything else to alert us to anypony coming. And yet just a dozen yards away from Fell and I stood a jet black pony pulling a cart. A cart which seemed to be built with a wooden cage in the back, currently covered up by darkly stained tarps, with a few wooden bars of the cage below showing through. He had one color. Black. Short cropped black mane, short cropped black tail, flat black fur. The only non black part of him were quite literally the whites of his eyes. And even they seemed to be more gray than white. The stallion had the look of a noble, with the smug smile of a salespony spread thinly across his face. The sort of pony you imagine the boogeyman to be. “Er- Hi?” Fell asked, mildly confused. “You have a very quiet waggon, sir.” “Of course I do! What traveling business pony working in the griffon kingdoms wants a waggon that makes noise?” The newcomer asked. “If I might say, it’s awfully rare to find a pair of traveling changelings in these parts. I assume you two are heading south for the winter?” Oh. An enchanted waggon would make sense. I wouldn’t want a creaky wheel to announce my presence to hungry griffins. Still, he gave me the creeps. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Friends call me Dawn,” he replied casually, the smile becoming painfully disturbing as he stretched it further. “I have quite a few friends in these parts. You’re not too far from a few griffon villages, and well, there’s quite the market for food in these parts of the world. Which is why you shouldn’t be heading north. “You see, during the summer and fall, there is enough game in the mountains and valleys to mostly sate our feathered friends, but once winter hits? Well… The food all goes south, and the griffons follow it. If you are going south, I suggest you come with me. I know the safe routes and can get you where you need to be faster than anyone you know.” I looked over at Fell, giving him an uneasy look. He returned one just as uneasy. I nodded. Fell nodded. “No thank you, sir,” Fell said firmly. “I think we will be fine on our own.” Dawn shook his head slowly. “I’m afraid you won't be. In a few short days this entire fiefdom will be flooded with seasonal nomads. You’ll be eaten alive.” “Then we’ll just head north,” I decided. “We could head around the Great Sea and catch a train to Equestria. Shouldn’t take longer to do that then a month.” Dawn chuckled. “You have never seen a Griffonese Winter have you? You’ll be frozen solid within in a week. Come, hop in my cart. I can take you as far south as Venisneighla.” Fell reached back into one of his saddlebags, whipping out a combo axe and holding the weapon entirely incorrectly to fire the harpoon. While I stood in shock at him having a Knight’s side arm, Fell growled and pointed with one hoof to the south. “How about you hit the road, slaver?” He suggested. Dawn rolled his eyes. “Oh please. No need for that. Well, if you want to die in the tundra, be my guests. Farewell.” The creepy stallion turned, walking away from us and quickly vanishing into the thin treeline. How the buck… “Good call, Fell. Did you see how that cart just vanished?” I asked. “Yeah, those trees are way too thin for that,” he said worriedly. I nodded to myself. “How about you put on that armor and we get far away from this chapel?” I asked. Fell nodded firmly. “Good idea. How about you also tell me what this weapon is and how I use it?” He asked. “That’s a combo axe, a model… Goodness sake!” I exclaimed, noticing the little carving of a pegasus holding a heart on the stock. “That’s my sisters!” Fell nodded. “Yeah she gave it to me. And a cloak too.” “I-but… Why?” I asked. “She wouldn’t part with her weapon for... Anything! This is an antique. I thought it was a replica of the- It’s a famous model,” I summarized awkwardly. “Er, she wanted me to keep you safe,” Fell said equally awkwardly. “You didn’t steal it did-” Fell laughed loudly. “Buck no! I saw what her hoof did to your face. Now seriously, before that guy comes back with a whole slaver crew, how do I use this?” “Hold the stock with your fetlock, flex your hoof to pull the tiller,” I explained. “The axe blades will unfold into a crossbow-like shape and it will fire a half meter long harpoon. Should punch through most armor. You get one shot per ten seconds, as it conjures its own ammo and has no external power source. It only charges on ambient magic or the energy your personally feed it. You can also chop things with it like any other hoof axe.” “So, hit them with it, or point and click?” Fell asked in confirmation. I nodded. “Yes, all of the Knight class sidearms are simple and efficient.” “Good. I like that. Keep an eye out while I get the rest of my armor on. Can you run all night long?” He asked. I nodded. “Yes. Undead do not sleep.” “Cool. Want to just go north on a zigzagging hard to track route from now till sunrise?” Fell asked. “Seems like a good plan,” I agreed. I turned to keep watch while Fell slipped his armor on. It looked like we had a dangerous trip ahead of us. But I’d make sure he got to someplace safe and sound no matter what. If only I knew why I needed him to be safe and happy in order for me to feel safe and happy. No! Bad Repose. Don't get distracted, there’s most definitely a slaver about. Eyes open, ears up.