III - Descent Into Danger
A state of awareness describing a range of afflictions that usually associates with physical and/or mental weakness, though varying from a general state of lethargy to a specific work-induced burning sensation within one's muscles. There are two types of fatigue: physical fatigue, the inability to continue functioning at the level of one's normal abilities, a widespread thing in everyday life, but only becomes evident through exertion, particularly during heavy exercise; and mental fatigue, which, on the other hand, rather manifests in somnolence, or sleepiness.
At the current time, I'm almost preparing to break down from both: Physical fatigue from my long trek across the plains and small forests of Equestria - a trek that I calculate to have lasted about three hours, due to the suns's current position; and mental fatigue from how I spent all last night on Earth studying for my Psychology test.
Seriously, if I had known that I would be blasted away to fuckin' Equestria, I wouldn't've studied for that shit.
After rechecking the map and observing by surroundings, an uneasy feat from the darkness cast by the thick and heavy shading of the trees, I come to the conclusion that I only traveled a sixth of the way. I'm in another small forest that also isn't included in the map: perhaps the creator of the map overlooked these forests? Or maybe he didn't deem them important?
Either way, this'll be where I will stop for now. I undo the belt around my waist and let it fall to the floor, the backpack following shortly after. I grab them and hook their straps onto a low-hanging tree branch. The afternoon air had indeed gotten colder than I had thought. I rummage through the backpack for some sort of shirt or blanket.
Instead, I come across a black long-sleeve shirt, more red cloth, and a white jacket.
I want to put on the long-sleeve shirt first, yet my wings are way too big to even fit in the head hole. I fold my wings to that they wrap themselves around my face. Sure, I can't see, but putting on the shirt is much easier now. I'm a little more eager to wear the jacket, since I don't have to put it over my head. It is a duster jacket with a leather outside, and the bottom of it reaches my feathery calves. The sleeves of the jacket are shorter than my undershirt sleeves by a minuscule amount, the jacket's cuffs being as red as blood. The inside of the jacket is as smooth and soft as velvet, red as well. Apparently, Nut also shares my taste in video games, because the same black Legend of Zelda insignia that is tattooed on my back is now on the back of the duster, yet is outlined with red. Once the jacket's on, the red cloth comes next. I take it and wrap it securely around my neck, letting one end rest on my back while the other rests on my chest.
I want to see what I look like, though, in these new threads.
Why? Because fuck you, that's why. There's nothing more important in life than looking like a badass.
Finding a small pond a few paces to my right, I walk over to it to look at my reflection in the water. And only one word rings in my mind.
While I'm a little happy that I was now fully pimped out in my new duds, that same pang of exhaustion surges through me. I return to the tree and pop open one of the rations in the bag.
Who knew that I would be ravenous for a small BLT sandwich, a little bottle of water, and a banana?
After wolfing them down like there was no tomorrow, I lean back against the tree, content that my stomach is satisfied. I close my eyes in the hopes that I would fall asleep.
The time seems to melt away as my drowsiness increases. Before long, I'm sleeping like a baby.
Princess Celestia watches over the land of Equestria from atop one of the many spires and minarets of her snow-white castle, the light of the sun seeming to shine off of her alabaster coat. She has just received a letter from the infamous freedom-fighting pirate Griffin the griffin, informing her that he and his crew are on their way to the Grand Galloping Gala in a few day's time, and if she can provide tickets for them; the goddess of the Sun replies with a pass that would allow all of them to get into the Gala.
'It seems that he'll be here soon.'
A chill shoots up her spine all of a sudden, and while there is nothing there, the solar Alicorn feels a presence in her midst. But she has a feeling she knows who it is. "Nut? Is that you?" She asks.
"Indeed it is, princess," a heavenly voice says. Something begins to shimmer a few feet in front of Celestia. A form, once invisible, starts to make itself known by the naked eye. A tall woman, a head taller than Celestia, with midnight blue skin, long hair of the same colour that is dotted with constellations, and a dress woven from stars, appears. The Equestrian goddess of the sun looks into the blank and glowing white eyes of the Egyptian sky goddess with her elegant pink ones before smiling. The entity returns the smile with gusto.
"So how do you do, Nut?" Celestia asks.
"I am doing fine, Celestia," Nut replies. "And you?"
"Mm. Can't complain... I take it you have chosen your pawn?"
"Correct. Would you like to see him?"
"Of course." At Celestia's consent, Nut waves a hand in front of her. A trail of shimmering magic forms where her hand passes. The magic soon reveals the oddest creature Celestia had seen. For starters, it has the body of a human, yet its legs are that of an eagle's with black feathers on its lower legs, and it has very large bat wings on the sides of its head. It seems to be napping in a forest, its chest rising and falling with each breath. "What... what is it?" She finally asks.
"This creature is known as a Devil Imp, Celestia," Nut answers.
"D... Devil Imp? How did he get like that?"
"He had requested that he be a bipedal, yet have the ability to fly. However, I don't think he has mastered how to fly yet."
"Is it wise to bring him like that? Especially with my little ponies'... view… of other strange creatures?"
Nut dispels the magic scrying glass. "I believe he will be fine." Nut starts to fade out of Celestia's presence. "Take care, Princess Celestia." Just like that, the Sky Goddess vanishes, leaving Celestia in her lonesome.
"Farewell, Nut." Celestia turns to the east. "Please, watch over him."
Ah... well played, tomatoes. Well played.
I carefully get up from my spot. The angle I was sleeping in makes my back and neck rather sore. I start rummaging through my pack, looking for--
...Sweet baby Jesus, she didn't give me any toilet paper.
I quickly dive behind a nearby bush, for my stomach is reacting violently to the tomatoes I had eaten less than an hour ago. While I am in no mood to use the greenery as a makeshift ass-wiper - I still remember that poison ivy incident from ten years ago - I don't have much of a choice. After digging a small hole in the ground with the help of Nightlock, I drop my trousers and squat, a large leaf in hand.
...I should've brought my iTouch to kill the time.
Three minutes crawl by. Once done with my business, I clean up and redress. I use my clawed feet to cover the hole with dirt like a cat in a litter box. I then use Nightlock to slice out-of-reach branches down so that I can strip them of their leaves and make a small mattress out of them.
Curling up in my makeshift bed, I try dozing off again, yet it takes a much longer time than before. But with my sword at my side, nothing can possibly go wrong... right?
...I spoke too soon, didn't I?
My eyes shoot open to see a warthog the size of a Hummer. Brown in skin color, black tuft of hair, angry red eyes, and tusks that made Sephiroth's katana look like a butter knife...
And it's charging my way.
"Pfft. looks like I'm having ham for dinner tonight!!"
At least... I think I try to say that. But in truth, I think it comes out more as a:
Yeah, you get the general idea.
I roll out of the way before the warthog can trample me. I quickly grab my stuff and get out of there as fast as I can. The warthog turns around and starts chasing me down, even after I leave the forest. After several failed attempts at trying to fly, I reluctantly perish the thought and keep legging it across the grassy plains, the warthog still hot on my tail.
"Jesus Christ, what'd I ever do t' you, Pumbaa!?" Where the fuck is a slingshot with a little red bird when I need it?!
Unluckily, in my avian-weaponry-induced stupor, the warthog speeds up. It tosses its head to the side before swinging its large tusks into my waist. The crushing blow knocks me off course, sending all my possessions other than Nightlock scattering. I fall painfully into the grass and roll a few times before I unsteadily get back on my claws. I unsheathe Nightlock and point it at the warthog. It will do me no good to try and run away again. The warthog and I walk in circles, our eyes never letting up on one another, scanning for any weaknesses or chinks in the proverbial armor.
Unfortunately, the chink in my armor come in the form of faint, yet somewhat audible, shrieks of agony from the Great Southern Rainforest that ring through the sunset-cast sky like a gunshot.
It sounds like a group of men and women. And they're in serious trouble.
But the warthog, sensing my sudden loss of attention to it, paws the ground before charging at me, tusks poised to gore me.
I barely get out of the way before I became shish-kebab. I roll to the left side, the warthog's right tusk nearly grazing my leg. Just like my fight against the three bullies, my senses and motor skills send themselves into maximum overdrive. The warthog turns around in mid-dash and comes for me again. My legs are tensed, and my hand is gripping Nightlock's handle so hard that the knuckles are white.
Right before the warthog can skewer me again, I buckle my legs and leap over it, my wings flapping to help me get a bit more air time. I land precariously on its back on my belly. I turn around so that I face its direction and I bury my talons into the overgrown swine's flesh. The warthog squeals in pain and tries to buck me off like an enraged bull would its rider. I exclaim and holler with every upward jolt. I grab its messy hair to make sure I didn't fall off. After regaining what little balance I can, I flip Nightlock in my hand so that it was in an upside-down fashion. I cock my arm back and bury the blade into the warthog's skull.
The large beast practically roars in agony. The sword has no trouble getting into its skull, but it's now stuck there from how badly the warthog jostles himself. I held on with both hands as it tries bucking me in the attempts to get me off, but its attempts get feebler and feebler every second. It finally keels over, dead. I remove Nightlock from its cranium, letting the blood drain from its body. I relinquish my vice grip on its back and get off of it, cleaning the long and thin falchion on its skin.
This is my first time killing something. I don't know what to make of it, either. My hands are shaking and my breath was rattling, the adrenaline my heart was pumping finally wearing away. I was shakily sheathing Nightlock as I stare at the fallen beast. I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, but whatever it is, it's new....
"HA!!! GET ON MY LEVEL, BITCH!!!"
And it feels amazing. I undo and redo Nightlock's strap, this time over my back. I grab my pack and carefully swing it over my back so that it rests on top of the scabbard. I remember the screams that came from the Rainforest... I want to go check it out... but I have a feeling that there are stronger monsters in there than that warthog.
Nonetheless... I have to see if the victims were alright. But I can't keep walking the whole way.
I had to learn how to fly. I close my eyes, concentrating on taking to the skies. My wings slowly responding with regular-paced beats.
*FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, FLAP-*
I beat my wings harder, yet at the same metronome-like rate. I feel the floor disappear beneath my claws. I open my eyes and look down, a little grin plastered to my face.
That's right, bitches. I'm flying now.
Albeit, I look really stupid right now, but I'm flying.
With some difficulty, I turn around to face the Great Southern Rainforest, getting ready to help whoever had been screaming.
As I lean forward to take off towards the forest, my thoughts came back to the warthog I killed, the rush I got, the sensation I received.... the experince of it all.
I was so scared then. But, in a way, it was really fun. I mean, back home, every boring day had always been the same for me.
But this... this is the beginning of a new adventure.
Shadow: I do not own Griffin the griffin, or his merry crew of badass pirates. They belong to BlackWing. Also the woman who had screamed was the Lacuni tribe members that Skeleton Jack killed. She also doesn't belong to me, for she (her parents watched too much Nightmare Before Christmas) is Forevermore's character.
The new chapter will be out soon, but in the meantime, I shall be working on my other two fictions.
Hope you like this chapter, everybody!