//------------------------------// // 24-2: 12 hours a slave // Story: Imbalanced: Legacy of Light // by Nameless Narrator //------------------------------// Harriet sat down on a bed covered in red, silk sheet after the door lock clicked behind her. The whole room was high-class, and smelled sweet. Was the air really so hot and heavy here? She rubbed her hind legs together. Something had to be wrong. With curiosity she hadn’t expected from herself, she noticed a pony-sized wooden cross hanging from the wall. with straps presumably for legs. “Sturdy,” she poked it. The heat was getting worse.  It clicked in her head in a moment of clarity shining through the pink mental haze covering everything. It was her, not the temperature or anything. After all, she was partially a dragon, even boiling water would feel only warm to her. She panted, and her tongue rolled out of her mouth all the way on the floor. “AAH?!” she bit herself in surprise. However, unlike whenever she’d bitten herself before on accident, it didn’t hurt at all, it only sent shivers down her spine. It felt… almost pleasant. Creepy, certainly, but sooo satisfying. Maybe if there was someone else to do it for her, it would be even better. Trying to avoid thinking about the tongue, she looked into a wardrobe which proved to be filled to the brim, revealing hangers with various articles of clothing. She grabbed the brightest one in random - a pure white nurse uniform… although a kinda short one, actually. “Mmmm, maybe for a pegasus or a unicorn? It’s so small,” it looked so inviting, though, as on her it would be so squeezing and figure-hugging, “Eh, can’t hurt to try, right? At worst I’ll have a little chuckle if I look like a ham in a too small container.” Okay, it did take some serious effort and breathing out to fit into the straining uniform, but just the way it almost crushed her chest and the short skirt made her backside squeeze outwards felt so good. Her hind legs and buttcheeks rubbed against each other so much better now, as she took few careful steps. She needed to see herself, how gorgeous she looked now. Some part of her brain overwrote all her worries of looking silly and fat now, leaving only space for words like voluptuous, curvy, thick and strong. Thankfully, there was a long mirror in the next wardrobe, placed on the door. Harriet saw herself, saw her own broad chest, and most of all - she saw hips jutting out of the uniform. “I want to sit on my own face...” she breathed out. Only then, the realized what the tiny voice in the back of her head almost drowned out by the screaming of her libido was trying to tell her. Her eyes were pitch black, leaving only bestial, yellow pupils of the Corrupted. All her scales ended up the black too, and now… now even her coat previously resisting was gone, shorter, oily-looking, and tightly copying her every curve. Her tail twisted in responce, and smacker her bottom, more flexible than ever before. She was a Corrupted now, there was no escaping it. Her body had accepted it fully, and its needs were bearing down on her quickly eroding sanity. She turned away from her own, perfect image. Warmth spread through her mind, as the room suddenly didn’t feel hot anymore, it was just right. The second wardrobe with the mirror was, thankfully, filled with toys and stallionhood replicas, some so comically oversized and strangely shaped to clearly be used for torture than pleasure. That didn’t matter to Harriet anymore, as her three tongues instinctively grabbed the biggest one, and in the next moment she impaled herself on it. She knew her body would easily take it. Finally, everything felt as it should be. The three, big zebra stallions who unlocked the door and entered, only saw the foaming and drooling visage of a dragonpony Corrupted lunging straight at them. *** Magpie wasn’t the only one to notice Pack Rat as the slaughter commenced. A pegasus running away from the main panicking group grasping for anything that could help them survive the heartless onslaught of the few slaves who decided that their survival was worth sacrificing their morality, if they had any in the first place. A brown griffon rushing towards Pack Rat in hopes of killing time before having to face the more determined killers grabbed a spear mid-run. He looked sinewy, like someone used to travelling through dangerous lands, or hunting. If he was experienced in combat, then it was a good thing the slaves weren’t allowed to fly too high or they’d get shot by the zebra archers immediately. That meant he wouldn’t be able to do the most dangerous spear move - a flying dive. After that quick analysis, Magpie charged straight at the other griffon, hoping to take him by surprise before he killed Pack Rat. “Oh, hello, mister hallucination,” Packy waved his hoof at the spear griffon, and resumed passively leaning against the wall. The griffon stopped, drew his spear back for a stab, and managed to barely turning his head when Magpie caved his head in with his mace. “Hi, Magpie,” Pack Rat greeted him dizzily. The griffon patted his shoulder, immediately turning around to see if anyone’s approaching. “Hey, Packy,” he said firmly in an attempt to push his words through the earthpony’s daze, “Keep looking around. If you see anyone approaching, call for me, okay?” “Okay, do you mean like that giant white spider watching us from the bleachers?” Pack Rat pointed upwards at nothing. “Just stick to ponies and griffons,” Magpie replied quickly. The original butchery was over by now, and the twelve slaves who remained were armed, mostly unharmed, and locked in combat. An earthpony who had just kicked a pegasus’ head so hard the pony stopped moving altogether looked around for any threats closing in, and noticed slowly approaching Magpie. Not waiting for anything, he charged forward, noticing Magpie’s blunt weapon. The griffon had to admit that was a good move by the earthpony, because facing his weight and strength head-on would be a terrible idea. Magpie darted to the left, blocking the rearing earthpony’s kick. He hissed as the heavy, metal, combat horseshoe clanked against his shield, but managed an upswing with his mace which hit the earthpony’s other foreleg. The earthpony stumbled backwards on hind legs, and when he dropped to all fours, his eyes rolled back as the pain from the cracked fetlock caught up with him. Using the enemy’s moment of agony, Magpie smashed the mace into the side of his head, dropping the earthpony completely. He was probably still alive, at least until one of the other combatants noticed. “MAGPIIIIE! I THINK THIS ONE MIGHT BE REAL!” the griffon heard Pack Rat’s surprise scream, quickly turning around and noticing the addict bleeding from a long gash in his side and stumbling backwards along the wall, using it for support. The pain from the wound must have gotten through to him. Not responding in order to not alert the pegasus attacking Pack Rat, Magpie rushed back to help. However, now that the sounds of combat and screaming were dying down, the pegasus heard him approach, and immediately faced him.  The startled pegasus tried to jump backwards into the air, and hit the arena wall with his plot. Magpie simply bashed him with his shield, knocking the lightweight pony out instantly. “H-H-Hey… I think I’m really bl-bl-bleeding...” Pack Rat touched his side with his hoof, and looked at it. “It’s just a scratch, but I need you to stay up, okay?” Magpie shook him firmly by his shoulders, not putting too much strength into it, though, “Don’t sit down, just shuffle around or something, just stay awake!” Pack Rat smiled, nodded, but furrowed his brows, looking over Magpie’s shoulder. “H-Hey, I think that’s real too...” Magpie pushed Pack Rat to one side while jumping away to the other, narrowly avoiding some griffon’s axe but landing on the ground. The attacker ignored Pack Rat, immediately following Magpie’s dive, and raised his axe. On his back, Magpie could only raise his shield to block before his foreleg sagged under the blow. He kicked upwards with his hind legs, but the enemy was smart enough not to get caught off-guard so easily. In response, he kicked Magpie straight in the crotch. Thankfully, paws aren’t the best for kicking, so Magpie only grunted , and was able to block the following axe swing. However, he wasn’t in any position to get up, and the other griffon was about to kick him again. Suddenly, he field of vision cleared with a black blur. Magpie immediately jumped on all fours, in time to see the griffon shake Pack Rat off, and roll away. In an instant, he used the role reversal to get on top of the other griffon, and swing his mace down. The first blow broke the handle of the axe, and the second one either killed or knocked the griffon out. Magpie didn’t stay to check. Instead, he rushed to pull Pack Rat up. “Thanks,” he said to the dazed earthpony who just nodded, limping towards the wall as instructed before. Two more combatants remain- The last combatant remained. It was a unicorn, big surprise… The suppressor on his horn was clearly one blocking only casting spells and not telekinesis. Magpie narrowed his eyes as the unicorn levitated up a small, weighted net as well as a long dagger.  Magpie clicked his beak. That was going to be a problem without any armor. Even approaching would be a chore, as the unicorn kept backing away while his dagger kept making half-circles around Magpie. Unicorns were always such a pain to fight, but one rule was universal - giving them time to breathe was a bad idea. Magpie darted ahead, forcing the unicorn to backpeddle. He needed to watch for- NOW! The glow of the unicorn’s horn brightened only for a fraction of a second, which made Magpie immediately spin mid-step, and bash blindly with his shield. He heard the clank of the dagger being knocked out of the air, landed back on all fours, and charged at the shocked unicorn. He tossed the net at him in blind panic now, but at that point Magpie was already mid-pounce. Net or not, the sheer weight of the flailing griffon knocked them both into a ball of confusion on the sandy floor. Magpie easily used his weight and the net to tie the unicorn, and then punched him out. No reason to risk killing a fragile pony like that.  And so, he was the last one standing in the arena. “It’s over,” he called out to the silent crowd. “NOT YET,” said the announcer, and the zebras with crossbows aimed at Pack Rat, “ONE LEFT, CATBIRD.” Magpie walked over to the dizzy earthpony, and pushed him. Pack Rat simply keeled over, and remained lying. Three seconds later, when reality caught up with him, he mumbled:  “Ow.” Magpie stood over him, and raised his shield in case one of the zebras tried something funny. The crowd started booing him louder and louder, or chanting to kill Pack Rat. “IT LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE A WINNER, LADIES AND GENTLECOLTS! DON’T WORRY ABOUT THIS LITTLE REBEL, HE’LL GET WHAT’S DUE TO HIM EVENTUALLY. NO ARENA CHAMPION RULES FOREVER! HAVE A LOVELY DAY.” Six zebra guards walked out of a nearby arena entrance with a no-nonsense approach and, more importantly, hoof guns. Magpie held his position over Pack Rat as long as he could, mostly just for show, since he knew he couldn’t do anything in case they decided to shoot them both. So, eventually he had to take a step back, and breathed a sigh of relief as one guard simply grabbed Packy by his mane and pulled him up. Several minutes later, they were both inside their cages, where exhaustion and pain finally caught up with Magpie, upon which he promptly passed out.