"Val! Move it! It's time for your patrol!" A commanding female voice shouted at the red stallion.
"Look, Cap, I really don't have time for petty patrols. I have more pressing matters at the moment," Val shot back, grabbing a spear from a nearby weapons rack.
"Sergeant! I made it very clear to you that last time you shirked your patrol it would be your last! Either you get your flank out here and do your job, or I'll have you removed from the guard!" She shouted, again.
"Cap, I wouldn't expect you to understand, nor do I want to tire myself explaining a matter that you wouldn't understand. Just get the formalities over with so I can go," Val remarked.
"I give you a single 2 hour patrol and now you tell me something is more important than protecting a ruler of Equestria!" She yelled into Val's face.
"A ruler of a mostly peaceful land that hasn't had harm come to her in years?" Val asked, but not angering the other guard any more.
"Look, Val, just give me the key to the barracks and your armor. I don't want to continue this quarrel any longer than I have to," she ordered, quietly this time.
"They're on my cot, Cap. I'll be taking my leave," Val finished, walking out the barracks door.
* * *
"So, let me get this straight. Crion went to another place which is now about to be destroyed?" Shrub asked, getting a hesitant nod from Rah'zalt.
"Eh, sounds normal," Shrub commented, fiddling with a gold coin in his left hand.
Sh'ragya shrugged and motioned for Shrub to follow her. They walked off a little bit, not hearing what was about to be said to the soldier that was travelling with them.
"Look, we gotta get out of here. There's no telling how long we have left here. Is there any way to follow the general?" The soldier urgently asked.
"Citrine, listen to me when I say this. Don't just shrug it off like everything else people tell you. There is a serious danger here, and I'm too weak to help Crion in his endeavors. Sh'ragya and Shrub can come with you. You're going to need the help. I cannot accompany you, I've been weakened," Rah'zalt explained.
"Weakened?" Citrine asked, getting a piercing glance from Rah'zalt.
"Look, I said I would explain, but I do not have the time to do so. Just know that I have imprisoned the shade that has entered me. It is far too taxing for me to keep it up much longer. Get Shrub and Sh'ragya over here so I can send the three of you to the dimension Crion has entered," Rah'zalt ordered.
Citrine saluted, running over to get the two.
"Oh, Crion, what have you started?" Rah'zalt asked himself, chuckling.
"C'mon guys, it's time to get going," the soldier ordered the dwarf and the scout.
The trio walked up to the visibly frail elf and awaited the transportation. Rah'zalt raised his hands, mumbled a word that they couldn't quite understand, and they were blinded by a flash of white light.
* * *
Crion awoke on his back, a bandage wrapped around his head. He was in a bed of some kind, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to get up or wait to see what was going on. In the end, he settled for raising his head, only to have a splitting headache cause him to set it back down.
"Crion, you up?" Kirileth inquired, getting a chuckle from the wounded general.
"Unfortunately, yes. What on Kirldan happened out there?" Crion asked back, slowly sitting up to avoid the majority of the pain from the headache.
"We were attacked. Val saved us. Not much more to tell, you were there," Kirileth hollowly answered.
"I don't have time to be bedridden. How much longer am I supposed to be here? A couple days?" Crion queried, getting a chuckle from Kirileth.
"All in due time, Crion. I hear one of the locals heard about what happened and wanted to offer their... help," Kirileth said the last word with a heavily sarcastic tone.
"Oh for... look. Don't wanna know," Crion raised his hoof a little, instantly regretting it.
"Before you ask, Sandrick and Val went to go get those weapons Val was talking about. I'm not sure if you remember that or not," Kirileth informed him, getting another chuckle out of him.
"Of course. Figures. Look, seriously, how long am I going to be here?" Crion asked again, getting a few second laugh out of Kirileth.
"Oh, you know, just a couple weeks," Kirileth replied with a grin.
"You're kidding right? Surely they wouldn't hold me that long for a... head injury, right?" Crion worriedly questioned.
"From my understanding, they don't really deal with any sort of injuries in Equestria. The worst I've heard of is a few broken bones," Kirileth affirmed, getting a scoff from Crion.
"Medicine. Dead with it, dead without it," Crion recited, finally going silent, for about a minute. At that time, a certain purple alicorn burst through the door of Crion's room.
* * *
A humanoid figure bolted upright, sitting on a bed of straw underneath it. Nearby, a nearly burnt out candle flickered on a desk. The figure jumped up and leaned against the stone wall closest to him before starting to mutter to himself.
“I’ve been delaying long enough. The general has been injured, which can only mean Rilu draws closer. I promised that I would not interfere, but I have no other choice. Visarn must take action,” the figure whispered, a deep voice coming out.
The now very awake figure ran over to the desk and sat down on the stone chair, pulling the flickering candle closer to the center of the desk. An ink vial and a quill were extracted from a nearby drawer, the top of the vial getting uncorked. The figure worked diligently, writing for a short period of time before setting the quill down and sealing the envelope with a wax stamp.
“I do hope it gets to you in time, Visarn. They’ll need you for what happens next,” the figure proclaimed, putting the letter underneath his hand and watching as it disappeared.
* * *
Before one can understand the workings of the temple that this scene takes place in, one must understand why it was built. Hournar Temple was built as a stronghold to keep the Planes safe. Now that the Planes are threatened by the shades, Hournar Temple’s protectors must do what they can to ensure balance is kept.
“Visarn! Long time no see! What’s going on?” A man in a cook’s outfit shouted at the heavily armored paladin.
There were ornately decorated counter tops laid out for a few yards, implying that a lot of people were served in the area. A weapon rack was also behind the counters, holding a range of weapons from maces to bows.
“I finally get to get out of the temple! My father wrote to me saying that I’m needed on one of the Planes,” Visarn replied, grasping the other man’s hand in a handshake.
The cook put the wooden spoon he was holding on the gray counter in front of him, brushing his outfit off a bit and speaking to the paladin again.
“Nice. Just be careful out there. We’re mortal when we’re on the Planes,” the guy in the cook’s outfit warned.
“Don’t worry so much, Pyto. I’ll be fine. All I have to do is help a few fighters along. I shouldn’t be gone long,” Visarn shot back, taking a mace that Pyto handed him.
Pyto nodded his goodbye to the paladin before turning back to a cauldron. There were several different cauldrons, all of which were bubbling at varying degrees, but you get the gist of it.
Visarn walked over to the door that lead outside of Hournar Temple, grasping the golden doorknob. With a deep breath, he twisted it and opened the door. Visarn was greeted with a blue and green expanse of stars. Laid out before him were the gateways to the 7 Planes: Riyara, Equestria, Kirldan, some kind of alternate Equestria, Siikara, Earth(which is mostly composed of water. Seriously, who names these things?), and Kelosia. He walked over to the Equestria gateway and grimaced.
“I really don’t like doing this. At least I have an amazing sense of balance as a horse, I guess that’s an improvement,” Visarn chuckled to himself.
Visarn took a couple steps forward, then jumped in.
* * *
“No way. You’re telling me the leaders of Equestria don’t have assassination attempts?” Sandrick asked Val, a look of pure disbelief on his face.
“Not for the last half a millenium. Apparently, one of Celestia’s generals was killed in her throne room, but she was untouched,” Val affirmed, twirling his spear as he walked.
“Now that is a system of leadership that’s needed back of Riyara!” Sandrick proclaimed.
“I don’t believe an oligarchy would work with your people. You seem to be… quite focused on war,” Val pointed out.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Sandrick sighed.
“Ah, perfect. There’s what we’ve been looking for,” Val said, pointing to a small building in the distance.
“A shack in the middle of nowhere?” Sandrick asked, a look of annoyance on his face.
“Yes,” was all Val had to reply with.
Sandrick scrunched his muzzle, but didn’t protest further. When they reached the small shack, Val motioned for Sandrick to stop.
“I don’t know how well he’ll receive me. I’d suggest staying away from the door,” Val warned.
Sandrick stepped back a couple steps, watching attentively as Val reached up his hoof to knock. As soon as his hoof hit the weathered wood, the door opened with a grizzled earth pony behind it.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying!” The elderly pony yelled out the door.
“C’mon Grolof! No ‘hey’ or ‘get off my lawn’?” Val joked, getting a grunt from Grolof.
“Valiant Defender. Course. Whaddya want?” Grolof inquired, throwing the door to the side.
“We need equipment. LIES,” Val blatantly informed him.
“Course. No one ever needs me for something useful. Get your companion in here and make sure he doesn’t touch anything,” Grolof angrily complied.
Sandrick and Val trotted into the ramshackle building, Sandrick having an offended expression on his face. Inside the shack, few furnishings could be found. There was a table with a broken looking chair in the right corner of the room, a stone fireplace in the center, and a kerosene lantern hanging from the ceiling. Grolof walked over to the lantern and pulled it down. The fireplace split in half and opened to reveal stairs leading downwards.
“Don’t touch anything,” Grolof repeated, making Sandrick a little annoyed.
“We heard you the first time,” Sandrick informed Grolof, making him let out a little chuckle.
“I know. It just seemed like you’re the type to not care about what you’re ordered to do,” Grolof shot back before descending down the stairs.
“What’s his problem?” Sandrick asked Val.
“Me,” Val answered with a grin before following Grolof.