//------------------------------// // I came to know true madness... // Story: It Sleeps Beneath Foal Mountain // by the7Saviors //------------------------------// The directions Starswirl had provided in his letter were clear and concise enough to follow even without the aid of a map. I had no detailed map of Zebrica specifically, but the instructions written by the wizened old stallion and the world map given to me by Daring Do before our departure to Saddle Arabia was enough to get a general idea of where my next destination lay. Farasi Mweupe was the name of the village according to Starswirl; it was an isolated town whose small community barely classified it above the size of a hamlet—a fact that did not bother me in the slightest and, in fact, would make things easier should the worst occur. My intent was to appear somewhere unseen just outside the village and enter by inconspicuous means so as not to alarm the locals or Starswirl with my sudden presence. The rite I'd cast did indeed put me exactly where I'd expected to appear, but the moment I arrived, I could feel immediately that something was wrong. I'd touched down in the middle of a wide-open field of tall grass beneath the shade of an unfamiliar tree. The sun above beat down on me mercilessly and—while I still felt no real pain caused by the light of the sun's rays—my stomach churned with immense discomfort and I felt an unsettling sense of exposure as I took in the cloudless blue sky. The heat was somewhat mitigated by a slightly cool breeze that disturbed the relatively motionless tall grass, causing large patches of it to ebb and flow like a brilliant golden sea. It was a breathtaking scene to be sure, but my eyes were drawn not to the sea of golden grass before me or the lightly shaded backdrop of majestic mountains in the far distance, but to a large clearing several dozen yards away, sitting just on the edge of my vision. Within the clearing, I could just make out a small settlement surrounded by high, sturdy-looking uniform walls made from what appeared to be the local timber in the area. The thickly thatched roofs of several structures could also be seen peeking just above the surrounding walls, and seeing all of this, I was convinced I'd reached my destination. Still, something pulled at me, a strange sensation that I was being watched from a distance. Something called to me from that village, and I was certain it wasn't Starswirl. No, this was not Starswirl, but something wholly different and yet something I'd felt time and time again lately—an otherworldly force not dissimilar to that which permeated the depths far below the ruined temple back in Saddle Arabia. I didn't know who or what that sensation could've possibly come from, nor had I expected it in the slightest, but who or whatever it may have been, it was waiting for me. Wary of the situation, I began making my way towards the village moving around the settlement until I spotted a large set of wooden gates built into the walls. The gates were somewhat crude but looked no less solid than the walls around them, and seeing them, I began to wonder what such a small and remote town would need with such defenses as it had. From the outside, it looked almost militant, the impression not reduced any by the two burly zebra standing guard on either side of the current open gates. While they were adorned with the same kind of golden rings Zecora wore about their neck and biceps, they wore no actual armor—though, given their size, they hardly looked as if they needed it. Each guard was just as large as, if not larger than, Big Mac and resting on their withers were equally large spears—weapons that looked well-made and deadly as one could imagine. Their faces were hard as stone, their eyes alert and unflinching as they scanned the field for any potential threats. As I trotted into view a few yards away, they turned those unflinching gazes toward me, their suspicion as sharp and instantaneous as the spearpoints they snapped in my direction. One of the guards called out to me suddenly, his voice as gravelly as pavement and deep as a trench. I, in my lack of knowledge when it came to the Zebrican tongue, failed to parse his words and merely froze mid-stride. I couldn't tell whether or not they'd seen through the rite and glimpsed my true self, and was about to weigh my options, but then I noticed that the other guard was eyeing me strangely, his spear slightly lowered and a bemused look upon his face. A moment later his bemusement turned to recognition and he, in turn, whispered something to his fellow warrior. The shouting zebra paused in his incomprehensible tirade to listen, confusion twisting his countenance. While I could hear every word they spoke, I still was unable to understand the meaning, though one phrase did catch my attention as one of the guards seemed to put far more emphasis on it as he gestured to me. The more suspicious of the two looked surprised but nodded a moment later. He still looked somewhat displeased at whatever had been said but gave no complaint or argument. Once the hushed and hurried conversation was over, they both lowered their weapons and trotted inside the open gates, one of them silently motioning for me to follow. I followed obediently, relieved that the situation had resolved itself for now. As we entered the little town of Farasi Mweupe, I let my eyes wander to the scenery before me. Each structure seemed to be made up of a combination of finely sculpted bricks of light tan clay and smoothly cut wood. Zebrican reed was used for the thatching of roofs on most homes. It was clear by the intricate design that they weren't just simple huts, but neither were they the complete ideal of the truly modern structure you'd seen in most towns in Equestria, the older fashioned Equestrian settlements such as Ponyville notwithstanding. All in all, the masonry and woodwork of these structures gave Farasi Mweupe a rather odd bent. All around me—moving in and out of homes, tending to mundane tasks and everyday chores, chatting with friends and neighbors—were the residents of the village. Zebra of all ages roamed the village; mothers and fathers tended to their rambunctious young foals while the elderly did what they could to contribute to the village, limited as they were by their advanced age. Their traditionalistic wear of golden jewelry, coats striped in striking patterns of black, white, and even grey, and intricately shaved, tied, or wrapped manes and tails all smacked of a truly cultured community of creatures. Such a sight would have moved me deeply had it not been for their eyes, staring at me as I passed by with the same suspicion and accusation as the guard before. Everywhere I was led, the activity would cease momentarily and the air would grow just a little more tense—the world just a little quieter in my wake. In the ensuing silence, I would occasionally hear that same phrase the guard had spoken earlier whispered by the townsfolk. I watched with some minor consternation as husbands stood protectively in front of their wives or mothers hurriedly ushered their foals into their homes, all the while never taking their eyes off of me. I had the thought that this must be what it feels like to be treated like a dangerous animal or some lowly criminal. The idea amused me in a way, but I dared not let that amusement show, instead keeping my outward expression stoic and focused on the path ahead. Eventually, the guard escorting me through the village led me to the center of Farasi Mweupe, where what must've been the largest of the huts stood tall and imposing—easily reaching at least two stories. Like the other huts, this too was made of clay bricks, wood, and reed, but the rounded walls were adorned with a complex pattern of geometric shapes painted in various greens, reds, and yellows. What was more noticeable and of far more concern to me was not the design, but rather the fact that whatever strange force had called to me was coming from this hut. There was no mistaking that sensation, and this was where I felt it the strongest. I could feel the gaze of something pressing down on me, but I was unable to tell if it was malevolent or not. It was a vague presence hiding its intent, and that gave me pause. Intrigue and worry filled me in equal measure and I surmised that whatever this presence was, was the cause for the quiet yet palpable unrest I'd seen around the village. As much sense as that made, it still begged the question of what it had to do with their attitude towards me. I had some idea of what it could mean, but I dared not jump to any conclusions, although I couldn't help but wonder if those words I'd been hearing from the villagers also had something to do with the situation. Two more guards with short curved blades sheathed and strapped to their sides stood on either side of the entrance to the large hut, Zebrican mares who were smaller in size than my current escorts but no less intimidating for it in the slightest. As we came near, the mares looked our way and one of them called out to us, much like what had happened at the village gates. There was another brief conversation between each of the four guards and once it was done the two stallions retreated back the way we'd come and one of the mares stepped inside the hut, presumably to inform whoever was inside that I was here. Unsure of what to do, I attempted to follow the mare inside, only to be rebuffed with a rather rough shove and a harsh, if not fully understood, word by the remaining mare. It didn't take very long before the other mare returned, though this time she'd brought a familiar face with her. Stepping past the dark curtain that served to cover the doorway was Star Swirl the Bearded himself, dressed in his iconic bell-adorned cloak and hat. His gait as he trotted out of the hut was light but confident and his expression grim and slightly introspective. His dark violet-grey eyes met mine and a thrill of fear sent my heart racing. His gaze seemed to pierce through me, and for an instant, I was afraid he'd seen through my guise. Thankfully my fears were unfounded, as his eyes softened slightly a moment later and he graced me with a polite, if somewhat curt, greeting. "A pleasure to see you again, Twilight Sparkle, although I must admit I hadn't expected you to arrive so soon after my response to your rather troubling letter. I am curious as to how you managed to travel such a long distance in so short a time—and with no apparent issues in finding your way here no less. Not even I could accomplish such a feat as that, not without ample preparation at least. Ah, but such questions can wait for now. There are far more worrying events to discuss at the moment and I have a very good reason to believe your plight may be involved somehow. Come, before we talk I wish to... show you something." Leaving the two guards behind, he gestured for me to follow him inside the hut. I did so without hesitation, though I didn't fail to notice the inscrutable look he cast my way just before he turned away from me. Nervousness began to build within me but I pushed it down and focused on what awaited for me as the old stallion led me inside. As I expected, the interior decorations were reminiscent of Zecora's tree hut, if a bit more auspicious. Ornamental masks along with a minor assortment of flasks and other various bottles full of what I could only assume were unlabeled tonics of some sort hung from the walls or were stocked on different shelves or tables. Opposite the entrance was a set of wooden steps leading to a second floor and in the middle of the room was a fire pit that looked as if it had been recently snuffed out. Next to the blackened fire pit sat another zebra, this one an elderly stallion whose withered and shaking frame, long wilting grey mane, and thick drooping eyebrows belied sharp cobalt blue eyes shining with untold wisdom. Much of his frail form was hidden beneath a dark brown cloak that was a match for Star Swirl's own in terms of resplendence. His grandiose look was embellished with the several gold necklaces of various sizes and shapes hanging around his neck, most of which were inlaid with jewels of differing colors. If I were to hazard a guess, I would've assumed the stallion to be the Elder of the village, or at the very least, somepony of great respect. The zebra stallion wore the same kind of look as Star Swirl—a look that only grew more grave as he laid his sleepy eyes on me. Before I could think too much on the matter, Star Swirl spoke again, motioning to the elder zebra. "Twilight, I would like you to meet Alemayehu. He acts as the village Elder, storyteller, and oral historian here in Farasi Mweupe. You'll have to forgive him if he doesn't greet you directly, despite his oratorical roles, and while he can speak and understand both modern and old Ponish perfectly well, he rarely speaks at all unless he feels it necessary to do so." As if to prove Star Swirl's point, Alemayehu merely gave a slow inclination of his head, a quiet greeting which I returned with a very slight smile, just wide enough to be considered a polite gesture. I was about to return my attention to Star Swirl when the Elder spoke, his voice soft but clear, and carrying with it a certain power and weight that sent chills down my spine. "The Janga Jeusi... I feel its foul presence stirring within you, filly... just as it does within her... she is gone, lost beneath the roiling black sea... but there is still hope for you yet... do not let it consume you as it has her... or we shall all suffer a terrible fate..." Janga Jeusi, the words that seemed to strike fear and wariness into each and every villager that uttered them aloud. I still didn't know what the phrase meant, but given new context, I now had an idea and could see all too well why it would evoke such a response. That aside, who was this other creature that the Elder spoke of? Another victim suffering from the same circumstances? And what's more, whoever it was, they'd apparently fallen farther than I had... but how? Who was this victim? Who could it have possibly been? Were they waiting upstairs? I voiced my inquiry to Alemayehu, but he gave no answer, save a slow, sad shake of his head. The ancient zebra continued to stare at me with his impossibly deep gaze, but evidently had nothing more to say, so I instead turned to Star Swirl. The stallion's frown deepened, but he too had nothing to say on the matter. It almost seemed as if he'd expected the Elder's words, though it appeared he was expecting me to wait and see for myself. Rather than answer my questions on Alemayehu's behalf, Star Swirl silently beckoned me once more before making his way up the wooden steps to the second floor, the old zebra watching us intently as we began our ascent. I followed after, left to ruminate on Alemayehu's ominous warning in the tense silence. Before either Star Swirl could make it past the second step, however, there came a sudden cackle from above. Behind Star Swirl I stood frozen in place, my eyes wide with shock and bewilderment. The laugh was far from what one would consider normal; it was a twisted sound full of desperation and madness, and as its sickening peal floated down from the floor above, recognition began to mingle with the initial surprise and confusion. I knew that laugh, and as the horrid sound died down, the voice that replaced it only confirmed my growing suspicion. "Finally... finally, S-She's here! It's Her isn't it, Star Swirl? You've... y-you've finally brought Her here to see me haven't you? Yeesss, She has c-come to me at last! I can f-feel it... I can feel the... t-the Dark radiating off of Her... in waves! Quickly, bring Her to me! I've waited so long... t-too long... She'll know what to do... S-She must! She is Blind... She can See! She c-can show me the way! I... I know it... I feel it!" The mad raving once again devolved into laughter unhinged enough to make my blood run cold. I wanted to turn away, to flee from the insanity that awaited me at the top of these steps, and yet I couldn't. I knew who I'd see once I reached the top, I knew she was the last creature I wanted to see, and yet I had to. The call was too strong, the pull too powerful to ignore. Even as I continued to resist I was already pushing past Star Swirl, practically flying up the stairwell in my haste to reach the one waiting for me. In seconds I'd made it to the upper floor and what I saw was who I expected, but not at all what I expected. Standing before me in the center of a room bare of all but a series of complex sigils painted upon the floor was Chrysalis, the former Queen of Changelings. The insectoid mare was a horrendous sight to behold; the crown upon her head had mutated and elongated into a mass of twisting black tendrils that entwined themselves into her dark cerulean mane. Her insectile wings had vanished, replaced by two sets of skeletal black wings and several more flailing tentacles that had grown from beneath her blue-green carapace. Each of her hooves was bound to the floor by brilliant white shackles borne of magic, and a white ring of that same magic had been affixed to the base of her jagged black horn—both spells presumably of Star Swirl's own design. I had thought myself a grotesque abomination, and I was, but this was far beyond the pale—too far. It was an unforeseen development so hideous and outlandish that I could only stare on in a twisted sort of awe. Her expression was the epitome of ecstasy and agony, a look made all the more disturbing by her eyes, or rather the lack thereof. It looked as though the former Queen had, at some point in her madness, torn out her own eyes, leaving nothing but empty sockets from which spilled forth a foul black mist. If this was who Alemayehu had been referring to, then he was right in his assertions. Chrysalis was far gone, even further than I was... but how had this come to be? What path had Chrysalis taken to change so drastically? As I pondered the answers to these questions, that sad, desperate, broken laughter continued to echo endlessly throughout the room.