//------------------------------//
// Chapter 19: Cave of the Rising Sun? 
// Story: Caverns & Cutie Marks: High School, High Stakes 
// by TheColtTrio 
//------------------------------//

Heart Burn smiled and thanked the nice young lady as he took the proffered ice cream cone. He took a lick of his treat as he stepped out of the ice cream parlor and set off down the sidewalk. As he ambled along, he smiled to himself. This world was certainly entertaining to live in. Sure, his selection of options had been rather small, but he was satisfied with his choice. The teen chuckled out loud. Messing with the purple barbarian and his compatriots had been most entertaining. It certainly made up for his current form.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his reflection in a store window. His biggest irritation was his height. Whereas he’d originally been around six feet tall, he was now only four feet six inches. Instead of towering over everything, he had to crane his neck to look at nearly everything around him. His muscles were gone too. High school freshmen seldom had muscles and with his stature, he wasn’t getting his back anytime soon. Something else that irritated him was his change in coloring. He liked being gray with that splash of green on his chest. It was impressive and mysterious. Now, he was just a little purple shrimp. On the bright side, he was a little purple shrimp that still had his power.
Heart Burn sighed, ending his reminiscing. He shook his head and resumed eating his ice cream. This was a new world and he had a new life. He really should let Bael go.
“You’ve been having flashes while you were asleep and during the day?”
“Yeah. I’m seeing things I’ve never seen before. Things that would fit better at a ren faire.”
Heart Burn blinked. Flashes? Ren Faire? He cast his eyes around the street, searching for the conversation he’d accidentally eavesdropped on. His gaze drifted briefly, only to lock onto a pair of teens loitering in an alleyway. They both wore matching uniforms that identified them as diner employees. Most likely on their break.
“A ren faire? How?” one asked.
The other teen shrugged. “I keep seeing wagons driving on a cobblestone street. Not exactly what you’d see in modern times.”
“Are you sure you weren’t at a ren faire?”
“Pretty darn. ‘Specially since the street I saw was right outside the diner. And the diner wasn’t even a diner. It was some pub filled with...” The teen stopped speaking.
“With what?”
“You’re gonna laugh.”
“Try me.”
“...Okay...” The teen swallowed and took a breath. “I saw ponies eating in there.”
Heart Burn jumped at the bark of laughter from the other teen. A smack echoed up the alley, followed promptly by a snickered apology.
“And that’s not all. I saw the diner tavern thing at night.”
“So?”
“So, I saw something walking outside.”
Another chuckle? “More ponies?”
“Naw. I saw this tall thing walking on two legs.”
“So?”
“SO?! It’s legs were backwards!”
Heart Burn didn’t stay around to listen to the other teen’s laughter. His previous good mood was gone, soured to a point that not even his ice cream could bring him back from. Pedestrians and their cries of irritation were ignored was Heart Burn strode down the street, eyes looking at nothing as he went on autopilot, his brain kicking into gear. Citizens were seeing the world he’d come from, the world where Bael was from. Why couldn’t he live in peace? He’d done is task, performed as expected, and when payment came due, he’d settled his purpose. And now, the game was pursuing him.
Heart Burn stopped on a corner, eyes acknowledging the red hand briefly before he fell back into his thoughts. No, it couldn’t be that. The game was just that, a game. It couldn’t follow him. He’d seen this world’s multiple versions of that insufferable chaos god and hadn’t been recognized. With a groan, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to think past the paranoia that struck him so suddenly.
“Are you okay, son?”
Heart Burn brought his gaze away from the pavement and looked next to him. There was a pair of legs clothed in police issue pants. The teen slowly craned his head up, taking in more of the adult. A frown tried to break out across his face but he stopped it, looking at the officer with a blank face. He recognized the officer. Of course he recognized the officer. He’d memorized the tell-tale features of his two compatriots back in the game world. Heart Burn met Just Duty’s gaze silently.
“Son?” Just Duty prompted.
Heart Burn shivered and smiled thinly.
“Hello, officer,” he greeted. “What can I do for you?”
“You looked kind of out of it. The kind of thousand yard stare I see people get after something big happens. Entire world views shaken and all that,” Just Duty replied before pointing at the ice cream Heart Burn held. “Also, the top scoop of your ice cream fell off the cone a few feet back and you didn’t react in the slightest.”
Heart Burn’s ponytail swung as he looked over his shoulder. Indeed, a scoop of ice cream lay melting on the sidewalk pavement. He looked back up at Just Duty, shrugging. “I have more important things to think about than dropped ice cream.”
“The last time I heard a kid say that, he’d just went into foster care,” Just Duty said, trying to suppress the memory to focus on the here and now. “Is there anything you need to talk to me about? Maybe I can help and if nothing else, from personal experience, I can assure you just telling someone can be a lot of help.”
Heart Burn took a breath, eyeing the officer skeptically. Perhaps he could use this chance to fish for details, possibly deduce whether or not this was just a copy of the Just Duty he’d known except native to this world or if it actually was the justice driven pony he’d known.
“Actually, there is something,” Heart Burn hummed, flexing a speck of his power. His normally blue eyes flashed green. “Have you heard anything about people complaining about things they’ve never seen before? Like buildings that don’t exist now or people they think they know?” Just Duty suddenly let a sigh burst from his lips.
“You’re the second person to ask me about those today,” he replied quietly “Bartenders asking for gold coins. One person asked which way the Colosseum was, so I’ve heard, and it seems like every other week now I get someone barging in raving about the castle that wasn’t there yesterday.” He gestured with his coffee towards the castle just visible over the buildings down the road. “I take it you had or saw one of those happen then?”
“Nah,” Heart Burn answered, shaking his head. “Just heard some people talking about seeing a tall gray figure with backwards legs.” He frowned up at Just Duty. “Doesn’t that sound strange? I mean, a tall bipedal person with backwards legs. Crazy. They must think they’re seeing something out of a fantasy novel or video game.”
“Or religious. Sounds almost demonic. I’ll give you credit though kid,” the officer said, looking down at Heart Burn, “that was a new one I haven’t heard before.”
Heart Burn looked away, frowning. So this was the local version. Whether that was good or bad, he had no idea yet. He returned his gaze to Just Duty and smiled. “Well, I should probably be getting back home. It was nice talking to you, officer.”
“Yeah you too, short stuff. Keep a better watch on your ice cream in the future or I’ll have to write you up for delicious littering and inciting the birds to riot,” Just Duty replied with a smile and a small wave with his notebook before he turned away.
Heart Burn scowled, eyes flicking to the crossing light. It turned in his favor and he crossed. It stood to reason that there’d be local versions of his compatriots here, seeing as he lived under the same roof as Purple Heart’s doppelganger. Heart Burn had even met the local versions of those six ponies that Purple Heart and his two friends had run about with. He turned a corner and looked up from his musings. Bracketing the street was a selection of townhouses. A frown creased the teen’s brow. Must’ve taken a wrong turn. He made to turn back the way he’d came only to stop upon seeing a tall man unfolding himself from his car.
Heart Burn cocked his head, scrutinizing the older male. He was of middle age with skin just a shade off of the white his hair was. Said hair was slicked back, curling at the endings. A pair of rectangle spectacles rested on the bridge of the man’s nose. The man adjusted his suit and pulled a thin case from the passenger seat before locking the car. The man turned to from his car and for the briefest of moments, as the man’s head turned, their eyes met.
Holdfast. How fortuitous.
The teen cleared his throat and approached Holdfast as the man fiddled with the keys at his door.
“Excuse me, sir,” Heart Burn addressed, “but are you a professor at Crystal Prep?”
Holdfast paused before looking down at the teen. “Either that,” he drawled, “or there are some students who are getting a very unorthodox education. Are you another student from another school looking for some random information?”
Blinking rapidly, Heart Burn shuffled his feet and rubbed at the back of his head. ‘Well, he’s haughty like Holdfast was…’
“Ehm… yes? I was wondering if you could help me with applying to Crystal Prep. I’ve heard that the school boasts a reputation built off of successful graduates doing successful things in the community. I was hoping you’d be able to write a letter of recommendation for my application.”
“Hmm.” Holdfast looked the teen over, then turned back to the door. “Schools don’t make successful graduates; studying does. Given your age, I’d recommend you spend more time on, say, math and English studies rather than accosting teachers at their homes.” A smirk flashed across his face for a moment. “And choose who you accost more carefully. I have no say in who gets accepted into Crystal Preparatory. Unless there’s something else burning a hole through your pubescent mind, I’d like to enter my house now.”
Heart Burn shrugged. “Nope, no more questions,” he replied, stepping back to the sidewalk. “Have a good day, s-” He paused, eyes widening as he looked down the street. There was a haze not unlike one induced by heat moving down the street. It shimmered and Heart Burn could see a brief glimpse of an ornate carriage pulled by two colored ponies. The passengers could be seen through the door’s window. One was a gold unicorn and the other a purple earth pony. Heart Burn shook his head and blinked at the apparition several times in disbelief. He swung around, truly confused and just a little bit scared.
“Ehm… did you happen to see that?” he asked Holdfast. The man was looking at the street.
“I did…” Holdfast tracked the carriage as is rounded a corner. “There must be some sort of event going on. An ad campaign or some such thing.” He looked back at Heart Burn for a moment. “Or perhaps a convention for young adults with a passion for cartoon horses. An odd sight, but nothing to worry about.”
“Hum...” Heart Burn’s eyes flashed green again when he looked at Holdfast. “Thank you for your time, sir.” He turned away and set off up the sidewalk, leaving Holdfast on his porch.
As he turned a corner, Bael muttered to himself, “So I am alone here...”


* * *


The door of Holdfast’s modest home swung closed behind him as he hung up his coat. “’Take a job at Crystal Prep’, they said,” he thought with a sigh. “‘It’s a good move to advance your career, and it keeps you away from Canterlot High,’ they said.” As he passed his desk, he dropped his briefcase off and loosened his tie. “Tell that to the three troublemakers who paid me a visit today,” he muttered to himself. “As if I can’t tell a Canterlot student when they walk into my office…”
One short stop at the refrigerator for an iced tea, and Holdfast set down at the desk and opened the case, retrieving several folders full of students’ research papers. He popped the cap off of one of his prefered pens and started working through the first folder, docking points and making notes as he went. “These children might be smart,” he thought, “but it would be nice to read one of these that doesn’t read like a machine wrote it. I’ll have to speak with the other teachers about encouraging creativity in the student body.”
He stopped at a particular paper, his eyes picking up on the trademark writing style of one of the few students with some character to him. Young mister Witstang’s writing might get off on tangents, and he seemed to have an tendency to use twice as many academic references as necessary, but his conclusions were sound. “If he ever learned any social skills,” he thought, “he’d show some promise.”
Holdfast frowned. Now that he was thinking about it, there was a boy who had reminded him of Witstang a few days ago. Physically, they had seemed similar, but their personalities couldn’t be any more different. He shrugged, chalking it up to one of the many strange coincidences that seemed to plague this city.
“Like those Canterlot High students coming to you, asking questions about things that obviously don’t exist or never happened?” he asked himself. After a moment of thought, he got up and retrieved the questionnaire the pink girl had given him from his coat pocket, sitting back at his desk as he looked it over. “How many parties must this girl throw to warrant this?” he mused, turning the paper over in his hand. “Seems like a lot of work for a child.”
The snow-white teacher paused. “Speaking of children,” he said, now talking aloud to the empty room. “Who asks a professor for a letter of recommendation to transfer high schools?” Between the child’s bizzare request, the strange carriage, and the reaction the former had to the latter, left Holdfast with only one reaction. “That child must be all kinds of trouble for his parents.”
“Oh, you have noooooooo idea.”
Holdfast whirled about to face the new voice, half rising from his chair. “Who-” He stopped, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.
“Wait, wait, don’t get up!” A pair of mismatched limbs—one a lion’s paw, the other a bird’s talon—pushed him back into his chair; the creature they were attached to was a bizarre mismatch of animal parts, with a grin on the face currently inches from the teacher’s face. “Oh no, no!” it chuckled. “Do not blink for yourself! Let me help you!” The ‘hands’ came up to Holdfast’s face, pressing against his upper and lower eyelids and gently forcing them closed. “Blink.”
In spite of the absurdness of current situation, Holdfast felt a spark of irritation towards the strange creature. “Get off of me!” he snapped, slapping the hands away from him. “What are you, and what do you want from me?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!” The creature seemed to slide back, giving Holdfast a chance to take in the chimera of a being before him. “I am the commander of chaos, the master of mischief, the harbinger of havoc…” It leaned in, offering a paw. “The name’s Discord. I’m your new boss.”
Holdfast stared at Discord for several seconds, his mind processing what he’d just heard. He put one finger against the artery in his neck, looking down at his watch and counting seconds. Discord blinked, his grin falling. “What are you doing?”
“One of those children must have slipped me a hallucinogenic,” Holdfast explained, not taking his eyes off his watch. “Possibly airborne and hidden in the pink one’s confetti. I’m checking to make sure I’m not in any immediate physical danger before I lay down and wait for this to wear off.” He took his finger off his neck and sighed in relief as he looked in a hallway mirror. “Heart rate seems fine, and eyes aren’t dilated. Possibly some sort of natural drug. Salvia? Psilocybin?”
Discord groaned loudly, bending over backwards. “Dear sweet Celestia’s cake-padded rump, you are a dull one, aren’t you? If I had known you were so boring, I never would have chosen you as a villain in the first place.”
“You’re giving me a headache, so this might be some form of peyote…”
“Oh for the love of-” Discord took a hold of Holdfast’s collar, lifting him off the ground and giving him a shake, which elicited a sound similar to that of a baby’s rattle. “I’m real. This is real. Now shut your pie-hole and listen to me. We’ve gotta get you back to the future, Holdy!”
“What are you even talking about?”
Discord sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his snout with two talons. “This is why I made those other three the heroes. They caught on so much faster than this.” He shook his head, then went back to holding Holdfast up. “Let me explain. No, that will take too long. Let me sum up. In an alternate dimension, you were a villain I created as entertainment in a role-playing game. One of your fellow villains SOMEHOW escaped into this world, and now I need you to go retrieve him for me before anyone realizes he’s here. Got it?”
Holdfast stared at Discord for several seconds. “So you created a childrens’ board game-”
“It’s not a children’s board game! It’s a highly advanced strategic combat simulation!”
“Sure it is. Essentially, you messed up, something got loose, and you want me to recover it. Is that accurate?”
“Surprisingly so. So you’ll do it?”
“Absolutely not.” Holdfast adjusted his glasses in an attempt to look dignified in spite of his current position. “Even if you were real, and not simply a hallucination, I have no interest in getting involved with extra-dimensional activities. I recommend you find someone else to do your dirty work. Perhaps some shut-in with no social skills.”
Discord glared at the teacher in his grasp, then rolled his eyes. “Fine. Okay. I see we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.” He reached behind his back, producing a small glowing ball. “Sorry, Holdfast, old boy,” he said, sliding the ball into Holdfast’s forehead, “but I’m going to have to replace you with someone a little more suited for this job.”
Holdfast’s body tensed, his eyes moving rapidly behind eyelids squeezed shut. After a moment, his body relaxed, and his eyes opened. “It took you long enough,” Holdfast sneered.
Discord tisked. “Please, have some respect for your alternate universe counterpart.”
“The fact that he couldn’t recognize you were a threat means he’s no equal to me.” Holdfast tapped Discord on the paw. “You can let me down now, like you have continued to do.”
“Ow, my quick. I have been cut to it.” Discord dropped the snow-haired teacher unceremoniously. “You know what your job is?”
“Yes, yes, I have ears. Even when reduced to an orb of magical plasma, I’m still tortured by your grating voice.” Holdfast stood, somewhat shakily on two legs. “So, this is a… what did you call them? ‘Humans’?”
“Human. Singular.” Discord dusted off his paw where Holdfast had touched it, rubbing it with a disinfecting wipe. “Try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Send a letter to Crystal Prep saying you’re taking some time off or something.”
Holdfast waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, I’ll keep suspicions off of me. You will have to excuse me if I take some time to enjoy being fully corporeal again. Though...” He looked at his hand, seeing the scar that ran from his palm up to disappear beneath his sleeve cuff with a look of disgust on his face. “Hmm. Another reminder of my failure. Lovely.”
Discord narrowed his eyebrows at Holdfast. “Don’t get any funny ideas, okay? No plans for world domination here, or else.”
“Believe me, your ‘reprogramming’,” Holdfast made air quotes with his whole hands, “was unfortunately quite effective. I shall endeavor to play nice.” He paused for a moment. “So long as the Wits Ends of this world do the same.”
“Great, good to know you’re on board.” Discord sighed and shook his head. “Listen, I have to get going. Find Bael, and contact me once you do. I’ll swoop in and take care of it, and then we all get out of here. Get it?”
“Got it.”
“Good. Ciao!” Discord snapped his talons, vanishing into a pink cloud.
Holdfast, now alone in the home of his alternate self, looked around and took a few careful steps. “Two legs,” he muttered. “What am I, a monkey?” He reached one hand out to brace himself against a wall. After a second of realization, he looked at his free hand. Slowly, he spread his fingers apart, bending each one individually. “Dear sweet Sol Eater…”


* * *


For being in the process of handing over control to my successor, I’m doing an annoying large amount of paperwork, Just Duty thought as he signed his name for the twentieth time.
‘That is because you can’t simply pass the paperwork off to someone else or somewhen else,’ the inner detective voice as he’d begun calling it-replied, prompting a sigh as he continued to fill out the needed sections of the paperwork. He glanced occasionally towards some of the pieces of paper he had related to his investigations of the weirdness of Light Patch.
The more I look into that, the more it feels like there’s actually two of them running around. Mine and someone else's,
	‘What if there was two?’
	Then the world is at the mercy of whatever greater powers be, he thought with a small smirk as he reached out to his long cold cup of coffee, bringing about a reminder of the strange encounters of the day. The first was his interesting encounter with some of the new friends of Light Patch. The encounter itself wasn’t all that strange, the loss of his beverage was annoying, but given some of the other issues he’s had to deal with, certainly more preferable. The fresh instance of the strange memory issues perturbed him, as well as the very strange way the purple half giant had acted after having been asked. He was sure he wasn’t getting the full story but didn’t think to ask anything further.
The strange memories are worrying. He pulled over some of the written statements from a couple of the reported incidents. One minute they are going about their usual business, but then like walking through a portal, they act like someone else in a different world... As if they were being replaced with someone else who looks exactly the same.
	‘I- We’ve been lucky only a few have gotten injured at all,’ the smaller voice in his head commented.
The worst part is I know most of these incidents are going unreported, making it much harder to tell when it all started,
‘Perhaps with this duplicate Light Patch-’ Just Duty immediately dismissed that idea with a shake of his head.
Nah. The first reports of the memory incidents start a few days before he started acting weird. Although… His thoughts trailed off as he stared at the file and mulled over the evidence making it seem as if there were two. The dual Light Patchs could be a longer running symptom of the memory issue, he thought, earning a surprising silence from the voice. I should try to get more details from that purple giant, or even his little brother, his thought finished, bringing up his second strange encounter of the day.
Ah, that reminds me. He pulled out a piece of paper and added the story about the strange figure to the list of other rumors. Grey, bipedal and reversed legs likely like a chicken legged mech. Sounds almost demonic, he idly thought as he wrote down what he knew.
‘Bael,’ the voice said, venom hinting it’s voice as an image of the alleged creature hazily came to Just Duty’s mind. ‘But this world holds no equivalent, and I have not yet introduced one,’ it continued, the pitch and tone of its voice gradually changing.
What? Who’s Bael? I swear I haven’t heard that name before, Just Duty thought, addressing the voice, worrying about the strange tangent it was on.
‘It’s possible memories from the lost world could have bled through, but I’m sure Bael kept itself hidden only revealing itself to the heroes and the other two of it’s little pack,’ the voice continued, ignoring Just Duty’s increasing panic. ‘The only way the short one could have known about Bael is if… it was Bael.’
	‘Why did we not connect the dots before?’ a second voice said, sounding the same as the first at the beginning, but sounding unique at the end of it’s sentence.
	‘Yes, the ease of our entrance	into this world,’ replied a third.
	‘A hole had already been torn,’ continued the second.
	‘And a bridge formed,’ finished the first.
	‘We could not locate Bael as he’d already fled. And like fools we followed him.’
	‘But did he know? Did he set a trap or was it just chance that we unknowingly followed the same path from the end?’
	You’re not my subconscious are you, Just Duty asked, his whole body shaking as he stared at the top of his desk.
‘We never were, detective. And now we need your body,’ the first voice replied, just before Just Duty felt his body begin to grow numb and tired. ‘We must find Bael. We must spring his trap before it springs on us,’ Just Duty heard before he watched his body slump onto the desk. ‘The transformation must not be interrupted now,’ Just Duty heard as he watched his body resume it’s sitting stance. He tried to call for help, but all that happened was his arm unlocking and opening a drawer on his desk and pulling out his badge and gun.
‘We shall not be forced to flee again! This time we shall stand! Our! Ground!’


* * *


“I now have control,” the pink scaled head spoke. “I still think we would have been fine with the subtle suggestions. Having taken direct control, I’ll now have to maintain constant vigilance so as to not lose it.” The head put as much distance between the others and itself as it could, “Do not bother me with minor things.”
“That is acceptable. We will try to keep the distractions to a minimum,” replied another of the hydra’s heads, its lavender horn catching just a bit light from its hiding place.
“What do we do about Bael?” asked the red-eyed head.
“First we must find him,” spoke a fourth head, idlying preening the orange spines of the currently sleeping head.
“Yes, but when we find him what do we do? Have our detached head simply kill it? Or do we wish to trap him?” questioned the third head.
“That is indeed the question,” said the horned head, sounding deep in thought.
The spined head snorted derisively, opening one eye. “Is it? It’s not as if we need his power to complete our plans. Kill him and let his body become the stuff of fairy tales and urban legends.”
“That would be unwise,” cut in the head with violet fins. “Bael is a tricky sort. He could have integrated himself with some local culture. Some family could be keeping him as a pet of some sort. Perhaps a particularly ugly canine. Outright killing him could lead to an investigation.”
“And investigation could lead to us,” the horned head finished, eliciting a nod from the finned head. “Then killing should be a last resort. Capture him alive if possible, and craft a plausible story for anyone involved with him. The detective will make an acceptable mouthpiece, so long as he doesn’t draw the ire of the populace.”
“He is well liked, and respected, as long as I do not push his actions too far we shan’t lose that.” the pink scaled head chimed in.
“Anything else then?” the head with blue tusks asked. “If not, it would be best to not cause distractions during this bout of mind control.”
The red-eyed head rolled its head from side to side. “What of that feeling earlier? Something has changed. There has been an… awakening.”
“It is nothing.” The horned head turned away, idly scratching an itch against a nearby rock. “Simply another piece of this world becoming rewritten, as is part of the plan.”
“This felt different,” the red-eyed head said, more emphatically this time. “It was familiar, and not in a good way.”
“We are the ones doing the rewriting,” the head with violet fins mused. “It would be worrying if we weren’t familiar with it.”
“If it truly is so worrisome,” the orange spined head growled, “send another pawn to investigate. Check in again in a few days, and we shall have our answer.”
The red-eyed head let out a short breath through its nose. “Fine.” It closed its eyes for a moment. “Who shall we send?”
The blue tusked head rolled its eyes. “My, my, sooooo many choices. Send the young girl meant to distract the short one. She is skilled in finding what makes them different.”
“Very well.” The red-eyed head was silent for several seconds before it opened its eyes again. “It is done.”
“Finally,” the spined head muttered, curling back in against its own neck as it fall back asleep.