The Lion's Roar

by I Am The Night


Prologue

Deep within the confines of the Everfree Forest, a lone zebra, shuttered from the world, chanted into a cauldron, her eyes closed in meditation, as her wicked works came to life.

Against the wall of her small, isolated hut lay a creature, blackened in color and punctured across its body. Its eyes were closed, but it did not sleep. Merely, it waited, listening and mesmerized by the zebra's melody, if the swaying of its head were not indication enough.

It sighed, speaking in a deep, yet soft masculine tone. "Are you sure this will work?"

At first, she didn't answer him, seeming to be too indulged in her work to hear him. He decided not to say anything else, lest it hinder her efforts. Instead, he took the time to explore the hut by sight. His eyes glossed over many of the decorations scattered around the main room, typically trinkets and other objects he had no knowledge of.

The windows around the hut were slightly cracked open, allowing the smoke that billowed from the cauldron to escape freely and spare the creature's lungs. However, he couldn't help but let out a cough as an occasional puff crept his way.

He rested his head upon one of his fore-hooves, fighting the urge to fall asleep. He had never visited a witch before—or was she an enchantress? He couldn't remember—so he had no idea how long it actually took to craft a potion of this yield before. He had to have been here an hour already, and he was beginning to feel awkward sitting about doing nothing.

Not to say standing outside in the middle of the Everfree was a good idea, to begin with...

"I apologize for my silent duration," she then spoke minutes later, "but a mind-numbing spell can be a tedious creation."

He could never get used to the rhyming, even if he did only meet her yesterday. He wondered if she always did that.

"It's fine," he assured with his hoof in the air. "As long as the stuff works, I... Take as much time as you need."

"Very well, little one. I'll let you know when I'm done."

The creature was only slightly smaller in size compared to the zebra, roughly the height of an average pony. If he remembered right, this was the first time he ever actually came across a zebra, and an enchantress, no less! What luck!

He cracked his neck slightly, which seemed to trigger another yawn emanating from his throat. The creature shivered as cool air from the outside brushed against his skin. He contemplated changing into a random form, just anything with fur, if only to keep himself warm, but he decided to rather save the energy when the time finally came.

She saw him change, but she did not care, nor judge. He had never felt so relieved.

As he rested his head again, he decided not to fight against sleep. If he was going to be here longer than he anticipated, he might as well save his strength. He slumped over against the wall, licking his lips from time to time to keep the drool in. Within a few minutes, he felt the light behind his eyes slowly fade away into nothing.

And he saw it all over again.

The fires. The burning of trees and huts and holes. The flying of spears and screaming of the young and the old. Masses of blue, red, yellow, and every color he could conceive running and huddling together, fighting against the blackness.

And the bodies, scattered among the ground, their blood pooling around what was left. A scorched young one, shielded by a scorched mother, their mouths open in an eternal scream, as if begging for forgiveness. Corpses strung up against tree trunks, dry tears running down from their faded eyes.

Her.

HER.

HER—

"Wake up."

Then he was up, sucking in a gasp, and suddenly he was catching his breath. Where was he? Where did he—?

It didn't take long for him to see the zebra, standing before him, and he remembered. No longer was he in those woods around his fallen. Not now.

Thank the stars.

"Mmmgh... how long was I out?" the creature asked, scratching his nose to satiate an unwelcome itch.

"Only an hour; not too long," the zebra replied, but paused as she stared at him. "But your face... what is wrong?"

He hadn't noticed that he was making any kind of face, only preoccupied with the itch. He wanted to tell her what he was thinking, what he dreamed about. But as much of a help she had been to him, he wasn't looking to make any friends. At least, not yet.

"Nothing."

She chose not to pressure him and left it alone. The zebra then helped the creature to his hooves and led him over to the cauldron, and inside, the liquids were no longer glowing a bright green, but instead had simmered down to a relatively dim blue-green. She grabbed a nearby ladle and scooped up a sizable amount of the finished product, holding it up for the creature to observe closer.

"The contents within will make you forget, whatever it is that your mind has fret."

The creature let a small amount of the liquid drip onto his hoof. It felt sticky, yet drippy at the same time, and almost as cold as ice, which genuinely surprised him, even coursing a shiver through his body. The zebra noticed this and seemed to laugh softly to herself.

After a moment of silence, he asked, "How long will this last?"

"If I have concocted your perfect dish..." She paused, grabbing the ladle and setting back into the cauldron before turning back to him. "... it can last as long as you wish."

As long as I wish...? he thought.

"So... do I just think how many years or decades I want it to last and it just... does it?"

She nodded. The creature sighed silently, scratching his chin with a hoof.

"... Do you mind if I think about it for a minute?"

"No, I don't at all mind. Please, take your time." With that, the enchantress retreated into the backroom, presumably her bedroom chamber, leaving the creature to ponder over her words and claims.

He had never considered exactly how long he wanted to forget everything. Sure, he could wish to forget for a lifetime and have it be that: Just live a full life like any other pony, making friends and falling in love and growing old...

But that was the difference between him and them. He wasn't a pony. He could look like one all he wants—a mare or stallion, a pegasus or unicorn or earth pony. Tartarus, maybe even an alicorn, if he was so daring! But deep down, he was never truly any of those things.

He was always going to be just like her.

And what would happen after the first time? Would he just do it over and over again until his time finally, truly came? There would eventually come the day that the zebra would no longer be with him, and he had no idea if these things could sit in a jar for a thousand years and still be drinkable. The thought of drinking a thousand year old liquid sounded repulsive to him.

But he had more than enough time in the world. Surely there would be more zebras like this one after she was gone. He couldn't help but sound selfish for thinking it, but she wasn't the only one in the world capable of doing something like this.

At least, he hoped. The world didn't stop at Equestria.

"I've made up my mind."

A moment later, the zebra returned from her chamber and stood by the creature. After a confirming nod to her, the zebra once again grabbed the ladle and filled it to the brim with the blue-green liquid. He hadn't noticed it at first, but it had a distinctive smell to it too.

Lavender.

The zebra dug through the creature's satchel and took out a beer bottle, pouring all the contents of the ladle into it. He remembered how confused she looked when he asked it to be poured into a beer bottle, but he knew that once he was finished downing the stuff, he wanted it to look authentic afterwards. He couldn't be asking questions. Ever.

Tightening the cap onto the bottle, the zebra then placed it back into the satchel. The creature grew curious, wondering how long it would take for the potion to kick in once he drank it.

"The power of even a simple potion is quite direct," she answered, filling the ladle again and holding it up. "It will need no more than a minute to take effect."

Only a minute? he thought to himself as he looked at the ladle. He felt lucky he didn't have a wagon to go back to, but at the same time, that meant he'd have to find someplace to hide himself beforehoof. He didn't need to wake up in the morning to find out someone snatched his bag because he passed out on the road.

Well, not like he'd do that anyway, but still...

"So, that's it?" he asked, answered by another nod from the zebra.

The creature grabbed the satchel and wrapped it around his form, careful not to damage or break the contents inside. Once it was strapped firmly around his body, he looked back to the zebra and held out his hoof.

"... Thank you, Zecora."

Smiling briefly, she shook him back. "You're welcome, little one. Now hurry back, before you see the sun."

Knowing what she indicated—and he was sure she really had to try to rhyme that—he let the hoofshake linger for just another moment, before pulling away and making his way to the door. Opening it, he turned back to her one last time and smiled.

"May we meet again."

Zecora said nothing as he left, only laughing to herself as she wished him good luck. As quick as he could, the creature began to make his way down the path he came in from. Judging from the desire path, and the moss coated on the rooftop of the hut, he figured the zebra had to have been living within the Everfree for the last several years!

According to folks around these parts, they don't take too kindly to witches. Though, she didn't really seem like that bad a witch. Then again, she didn't really seem like much of a witch at all. At least... not a bad one.

After several minutes walking down the path and hopping through the bushes in which the path stopped—which was intentional, she said, to keep anyone from following—the creature finally found himself outside of the forest, and able to breathe the fresh air, letting out a sigh that could be seen in a puff of whiteness. But despite seeing his own breath, it was actually warmer outside the forest than inside, but he chalked it up to the cauldron's excess heat.

The creature paced a bit, walking along one of the paths that encompassed a nearby village. He had heard about this particular one from folks all across the nation throughout the years; not very often, but not so rarely, either.

It was perfect, he thought. It was no podunk little town, nor was it some posh city full of ignorant "rich fellows" that looked down at anyone that had less than a thousand bits in their bank accounts. And the fact that it was relatively small, as well as far enough from most major population centers—well, excluding the nation's capitol sitting on top of a mountain in the distance—made it perfect to just hide away and live out his life in complete normalcy!

Well... as normal as a changeling's life could be these days. But that's what the potion was for, right?

He let the air escape his nose as the memories flooded back. Soon, they wouldn't. But first, he had to find the right spot to pull this off. The satchel had everything he absolutely needed to make it work here. Well, he'd hoped 1500 bits was enough to at least buy a house.

If only he didn't need to use the rest to buy actual food these days.

After walking along trails and paths for ten minutes, the changeling eventually found a small clearing, hidden beneath an open set of bushes and far enough from sight, should anypony come along. It was a good spot.

As soon as it came to mind, the changeling reached into the saddle and took out the bottle carrying the desired product. He stared at the contents intensively; the color hadn't changed, and he was sure the scent hadn't either. Once he opened the bottle, he took a quick whiff, and... there it was again.

Lavender... his forest used to be full of it. Surely it grew back by now... right?

But he couldn't drink it yet. There was one more thing he had to do.

He removed the satchel from his body and set it down against the bush, bottle next to it, and stood a good five feet away. With a nosy sigh, the changeling closed his eyes and began to focus, concentrating all of his energy into his body. His horn glowed a sickly green, the tip flickering with sparks as his magic began to take hold. He felt his body glow brightly into the night, so bright that anypony in a thirty foot radius could see it.

Then, in an instant, his body became engulfed in a green, fiery blaze that ran from top to bottom. The changeling could feel parts changing and shaping to his heart's desire, hair suddenly grown where it wasn't before, the holes in his body becoming whole again, and his withered tail flourishing with lively vigor.

He had become used to it, and yet the feeling was always new for him.

Once it was over, what stood in his place was no longer a black, hollowed out husk of a bug, but an average, yet tough earth pony stallion. His mane stuck up in the air, like a mohawk, but it was jagged and rounded instead of flat on the top; beside the main gray aspect of it were the bits of dark-gray on the sides and stripes on the tail. The way it contrasted with his tan coat, or even the greens of his eyes, always appealed to him in some way.

He'd fit right in, he felt.

The stallion once again grabbed the bottle and stared into it, letting the smell slowly seep into his nose, as he contemplated Zecora's words earlier. All he had to do was think of how long he wanted its effects to stay, and as soon as he swallowed it, it would be done. No more memories. No more fires, no more bodies, no more scorched remains or hanging screams...

As long as he wanted.

Clenching his eyes shut, he finally settled on it and shut his mental trap. He knew what memories he wanted to keep, and which ones he wanted to get rid of. Add on top of that some discernible skills he fancied that he "borrowed" from a couple ponies throughout the years, and...

"Bottoms up."

Lifting the tip to his mouth, the stallion began drinking the liquid, swallowing it as fast as he could. Expecting it to taste foul and rancid, he was surprised when it actually more resembled soda. Dr. Ponka, perhaps?

It didn't take long for him to finish off the potion, letting out a quick belch in response. Pushing out a deep breath, he felt a yawn come on, He stretched and cracked his back as he set the bottles down onto the ground.

Wait... bottles?

Looking down at the dirt, he inspected the bottle before him, and sure enough, there were two instead. Nope, wait, make that three. No, four! Six? Twelve?! What?!

He made the mistake of reaching down to grab them, if the series of 16 simultaneous hooves was any of an indication. He stepped back, as if trying to defend himself against the sudden siege, only to stumble and fall against the dirtied ground, groaning in what he thought was pain. Or was it just annoyance?

"Wellllll," he slurred, "I guesssshsh it worrrrrrked."

Maybe both.

With a quick lean back of his head, he was gone.


"Ggnnnah..."

What a way to start a morning, right?

"Mmmnnn... my head..."

The stallion moaned and groaned, slowly twisting his body left and right as he felt himself waking up with what felt like one of the biggest headaches he had ever felt. He found himself reaching his hooves out, as if trying to grab something. He was anticipating a blanket.

He didn't anticipate suddenly holding a chicken.

"Wait... what..." he questioned as he looked up. In an instant, his groggy, tired eyes were filled with confusion, as he came face to face with the clucker itself.

"Chicken."

Before he could question it, the chicken shook itself out of the stallion's grasp, shrieking in confusion and average cluckedness, before running off behind a series of bushes and down a nearby dirt road. He eyed the fluffy creature, his face still contorted into perplexity, as he wondered what had just happened.

"Pfft..." he trilled his lips, "... okay..."

Now embraced in what felt like the morning sun, the stallion began to stretch his arms and legs, shivering as a cold sensation ran across his body, brought on by the popping and cracking of bones. He laughed raggedly, cherishing the feeling.

A yawn left his throat. "What happened last night...?"

As he scratched insatiable itches and cracked his neck, he began to look at his surroundings. He found himself to be in a small clearing, surrounded by bushes. If he stood on his hind legs, no doubt anypony wandering by would at least be able to see his head. Inspecting the ground, it didn't take him long to see the beer bottle, open and empty, and already he had a thousand guesses as to what happened.

"Great. I got plastered and somehow ended up in the middle of nowhere." Then he stopped. "Wait... dirt path... means..."

He took a peek from behind the bushes, and sure enough, a town stood not too far away, loud enough that he could even hear the ringing of bells and laughter of children, presumably on their way to school.

The stallion retreated back to the clearing and lifted the bottle in his hoof. A few drops fell to the dirt and quickly dried.

"... Why did I think I was gonna be able to drink that?"

Suddenly, a smell caught his nose. He noticed it had been coming from the bottle, and took a few quick whiffs.

"Lavender?" He raised an eyebrow. "... Weird."

Not wanting to just leave it sitting on the ground, he looked around to find his satchel, which had been propped up against a more fluffy variant of the bushes surrounding him. He quickly opened it and dumped the bottle into it, anticipating throwing it in the garbage once he got into town.

Despite this, he couldn't help but open the bag fully again, just to make sure everything was inside it. Sure enough, nothing was missing. His money, some provisions, and even an ID, should he decide to need one, were all still packed tightly inside. He was lucky multi-bit coins were a thing, otherwise he might as well be lugging a treasure chest on his back.

He let out a sigh of relief and proceeded to wrap the satchel around his barrel. Once it was secured, he took one more look outside the bushes, looking left and right, before emerging fromOh, dear Celestia, the sun is bright this morning!

"Damn hangovers," he mumbled, wishing he bought some sunglasses before getting drunk. He was lucky there was at least a bottle of water to help accommodate both the hangover and his dry mouth.

By the time he reached the town limits just a few minutes later, he had already downed the water bottle, and his mood was far better than earlier. The fact that the town was still only just waking up probably further sweetened that mood.

"Wow," he said as he found himself gazing at everything.

There were very few words to describe exactly what he thought of the town. From the bustling market, to the pristine park grounds, to the bakery settled near the center. Sugarcube Corner, it read.

He felt his tongue run around his lips at the idea of some fudge right about now, but held off the temptation. He had to do at least one thing before he downed fattening amounts of chocolate.

Navigating his way through town via map, and with the help of some more than helpful strangers, he eventually came across what seemed to be a small office building, with a sign out front that read 'Real Estate's Home Estate, est. 6849FE.' If word of mouth from neighboring towns was correct, then this meant the town was founded nearly a century ago! Practically an infant, architecturally!

The stallion walked up to the door and slowly opened it, inching his head inside and looking around. The interior of the building was fairly small, as a typical office seemed. At the front desk sat a unicorn mare of middle age, with her mane combed downward and a wad of gum in her mouth.

"Uh... hello?"

Luckily, he remembered not to judge a book by its cover, as the mare looked up with what seemed to be the most truthful grin in the entire world.

"Well, good morning!" she mare exclaimed, levitating her gum to a nearby trashcan. "How can I help you?"

Speaking of trashcans...

"Yeah, um, I was told by some folks around here that this was the place to purchase a house?" The stallion stopped as he grabbed the empty beer and water bottles and carried them over to the trash. "Well, finalize a purchase, at least."

"Well, you were told right! Real Estate's Home Estate is responsible for ensuring every newcomer can get settled straight away! You already have a deed of residence, I assume?"

He nodded, retrieving from his bag the mentioned deed, as well as his ID, to which the mare levitated out of his grasp.

"I wasn't sure if I needed the ID or not."

"It doesn't hurt to have one, at least," she replied, smiling as she overlooked the document, then eyed the ID card.

For several moments, it was silent, apart from the distant chatter and the mare's mumbling of bits and pieces from the paper as she attempted to verify everything.

The mare looked up, still smiling. "Full name?"

"Lyon. Just Lyon."

"Well, Mr. Lyon, I'd say everything is in tip-top order!"

"Really?" The stallion known as Lyon tilted his head. It couldn't be that easy, ri—

"Yep! All we just need is an official signature and your forward payment!"

... It was that easy.

"Uh, yeah, sure!"

Lyon walked over to the table and observed the paper the unicorn pushed out in front of him. It was a Document of Quartering, meant to finalize the purchase of a new home, at least he recalled from what he could remember during his school days. At least, what he cared to listen to.

Grabbing the pen in his hoof, he signed his full name and pushed the paper back over to her. He then reached into his satchel and pulled out 2 and a half stacks of hundred-bit coins.

"1500 bits, right?"

"I'm afraid you're a bit over the amount," the mare answered with a laugh. "Just 1200 is enough."

Letting out a sigh of relief once she progressed that sentence, Lyon looked over his stacks of bits, taking out the 3 unneeded coins, before giving the rest over to her. She hovered the bit stacks and paper into a small, wide folder, then slid it back into the desk.

"Well, that's it! You're all set for your new home here, sir!"

The mare grinned and held out her hoof, anticipating a hoofshake. Lyon smiled back and returned the favor.

"Thank you so much," he said. "I'm real new to this stuff, so I wasn't sure if there was anything more than that."

"Nope! We like to keep it curt and to the point here!"

Lyon laughed. "That's good."

After another quick check-over to make sure everything was properly settled, Lyon grabbed his belongings, the required set of house keys and documents, and made his way to the door.

"I hope you have a good day today, sir!" the mare yelled. "Oh! And Mr. Lyon?"

He turned back to her, hoof on the knob.

"Welcome to Ponyville."

With a grin and a 'thank you,' Lyon left the office and was back into town. A few minutes of walking later, he eventually came across a small house, decent in size compared to the rest around him. Two floors, a small porch, a steady looking balcony! But what about the inside...?

Inserting and turning the key, as soon as he heard the click, Lyon pushed the door open, only to reveal an empty interior. Of course, he only just got here.

And yet, already he could see where he wanted everything. A radio right over there, the couch there, an assortment of Vincent Van Hoof paintings on that wall! Maybe a bit of tan and blue paint, and he was sure this place would really shine!

Oh yeah. He couldn't stop grinning.

"Well... let's get started."