//------------------------------// // A Wild Hunt // Story: Worlds Apart: The Chosen of the Prognosticus // by GMBlackjack //------------------------------// “Nothing…” Twilight ground her teeth. “We can’t do anything. Sonic’s gone, our trap didn’t work, and the Hag took our emeralds!” She stamped the ground. “There’s a Void devouring the world and we’re supposed to stop it but we can’t even save our friend!” “Twilight…” Cosmo said. “I just…” Twilight drooped. “We can’t do anything. So what now?” “We keep pressing on,” Caspian said, pressing his hand to the hilt of his sword. “Press on where?” Twilight waved a hoof in the air. “Do we even have any more ideas!? That trap not only didn’t work, clearly the Hag was aware of it! If she planned for this, she can plan for anything we do. We can’t track her, we can’t predict her, we’re not even sure why she’s doing this! The combined efforts of four worlds has led to nothing.” She sat down on the ground hard enough to make her wince. “We’re brought low by some Hag. Not even a servant of Bleck, just some random…” “I don’t have answers for you,” Caspian said. “It may be hopeless. But even if it is—a belief I do not share—we should press on anyway. Because it is the right thing to do.” Toph flexed an arm. “Hate to say it, but Prince Charming’s got a point. We don’t stop. Not for anyone, not for anything, not for any reason. We’re gonna punch that witch in the face.” “I question how,” Data said. “To press on, we require a course of action.” “Data’s got it,” Twilight said, having to force herself to slow her breathing. “How can we press on when we don’t even know what to do?” Cosmo shrugged. “We just… keep doing what we’re doing? Maybe something will reveal itself.” Twilight glared at her. “Oh, so we just sit and wait?” “That’s not what I s—” “You might as well have.” Twilight sagged. “We’ve failed. Some heroes of prophecy we are.” Toph gave Twilight a knock on the head. “Ow! Hey!” Toph folded her arms. “You’re not thinking straight. Figured you might need a head readjustment.” “My head is just fine!” Twilight said, indignantly. “Good! Then maybe you’ll realize that what you’re doing isn’t helping.” Toph put her hands on her hips. “Actually, it’s making it worse.” Twilight looked down at the ground, ashamed. “...I don’t know what to do.” “You and me both, Twiggy.” Toph kicked the ground behind her, creating a pedestal of rock to sit on. “This entire world has been stupid, and none of the rest of you can see it. But you know what? I’m still pressing on. And I’m gonna press on until we find her. No matter how… ridiculous everything is.” “It… really hasn’t been easy for you here, has it?” Twilight asked. “Hey, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” Toph smirked. “I’m not falling for that trick.” Twilight smirked back at her. “Good ear.” Slowly, she stood up and ruffled her feathers. “So… I still have no idea what to do. I’m still very worried about Tippi. And I feel like I’m not worthy to be called a hero.” “Yeah. So?” “So…” Twilight twirled a hoof in the air. “So, I don’t know, nothing?” She let out a snort. “That sounds ridiculous.” Toph stood on top of her rocky seat. “See? Now you understand!” “I… maybe?” Twilight tapped her hoof on the ground. “I don’t feel like I need to scream at anything anymore. Still…” “We need a course of action,” Data said. “Perhaps we need to re-examine our readings, or go over our reports once more.” “I don’t think it’ll do much,” Twilight said. “But… I guess it’s something rather than nothing. And… Cosmo? What are you doing?” Cosmo had wandered away from the group, holding a hand to her eyes, looking into a seemingly normal patch of the forest. “I thought I saw something.” “What kind of something?” Twilight asked. “Not sure…” Cosmo took a few steps into the treeline, continuing with a hand to her eyes. “Hey. Cosmo.” Toph clapped her hands. “You’re wandering off.” “I can’t shake the feeling that it was important,” Cosmo said, looking around her—she’d lost whatever it was she had seen. “Like… I can’t describe it.” “There is strange magic in this forest,” Caspian offered. “Mayhaps you saw a will-o’-wisp. A bit unusual in the day, but not unheard of.” “Wasn’t that,” Cosmo said, frowning. “It’s not important right now,” Twilight said. “We should get back to camp, look at the records.” “I thought you said that probably wouldn’t help?” Cosmo asked. Twilight blinked. “Well… yes, but it’s something.” “And this might be something,” Cosmo said. “It can’t hurt to look for it.” With a shrug, Toph stomped the ground. “There’s nothing unusual anywhere near here, Cosmo. Just trees, us, a river, and talking animals having a picnic. Which, a few days ago, I would have called unusual, but they’re apparently all over the place.” Cosmo turned her head sharply to the left. “I just saw it again.” “There was nothing,” Toph grunted. “Her eyes dilated and her response was reflexive,” Data noted, pulling out his tricorder. “She saw something.” “See? Data knows.” Cosmo said. “I am currently scanning your brain waves for evidence of hallucinatory influence.” Cosmo rolled her eyes. With her hands on her hips, she started marching off in the direction she’d seen the thing. “Wh—Cosmo! What are you doing?” Toph waved a hand. “Hellooo?” “It can’t hurt to go see what it is,” Cosmo said, crawling over a fallen tree. Twilight flew over to Cosmo’s side, falling in step with her. “What does this thing… look like?” “It was golden, maybe silky? But also fast. It was like… It knew I saw it and didn’t want to be looked at directly.” “I cannot find evidence of anything in her mind,” Data said, closing the tricorder. “I suspect she actually did see something.” Toph grunted. “We’re chasing after a sunbeam, mark my words. Wild goose chase, here we go…” “There it is again!” Cosmo picked up her pace, entering a brisk trot through the forest. “This way!” “I saw nothing…” Data said, glancing around. “Curious. I have a perfect record of all light hitting my eyes during that time.” He paused, going over the data. “And yet she physically reacted as if something were really there.” “Just tricks of the light,” Toph grunted. “There was no beam directed toward her face.” Data cocked his head. “Are there entities that can show themselves to certain individuals in this world, Caspian?” Caspian nodded. “Yes. No doubt the Hag could, but Aslan himself has done it as well.” “Aslan!” Cosmo clasped her hands together. “That’s who it is! Golden, silky, powerful—” “Uuuuugh,” Toph facepalmed. “Ridiculous. I can’t believe this.” “It could be a trap,” Twilight said. “The Hag leading us… somewhere.” “Then why would she only appear to me?” Cosmo asked, still moving through the forest in the direction she’d last seen the golden thing. “It’d be a lot more effective if more of us saw it.” “Maybe we’d be able to see through the trap?” Toph suggested. “Or are blind?” “She still has a good point,” Twilight admitted. Cosmo twisted to the left. “There! Definitely a lion!” “Fascinating…” Data craned his head to examine her. “You are definitely seeing something.” Caspian smirked. “I believe he wishes us to follow.” Toph glanced from Data to Caspian. “Twilight, tell them they’re being ridiculous.” “Maybe, maybe not,” Twilight said. “But… even if it is a trap, if it’s a trap set by the Hag, it might give us an opportunity.” “This doesn’t seem like something she’d do.” Toph folded her arms. “We’ve seen her pattern of capturing people.” “Ah, but this is something Aslan might do,” Caspian said. “Shortly after we have exhausted our own plans, giving all our effort into the hunt but still willing to give more—then he offers his aid.” “Hey!” Toph shouted into the forest. “If you want to help, just talk to us! No need to be all cryptic?” Twilight scratched her chin. “Actually, if I’ve learned anything from Celestia, sometimes you really do need to be cryptic and let people figure things out on their own for the best results.” Toph facepalmed. “Not you too…” “Leadership is a complex equation,” Data admitted. “There!” Cosmo shouted—this time taking off into a run. Caspian must have seen it as well because he took off after her. “He’s right this way, trust me!” Cosmo called back. Data took his tricorder out and pursued them… leaving Twilight and Toph back. “Idiots,” Toph grumbled. “They’re going to get captured.” “Exactly why we need to follow them,” Twilight said, glancing back at Toph. “Ugh…” Toph kicked the ground. “I’m not being part of this.” “Look, we don’t have time to argue.” Twilight levitated Toph onto her back. “Wh—hey! Let me go!” Twilight kept Toph firmly planted on her back with her telekinesis as she flapped into the air. “I’m not leaving you or them to get captured! We stay together!” “I want to make it very clear that I wanted nothing to do with this!” “Noted!” Twilight flew over the treetops, spying bits and pieces of Data and Caspian through the canopy. She couldn't make out Cosmo, but she was the same color and texture as most of the plants, so that wasn’t surprising. Twilight made sure to stay above those she could see, keeping careful watch on them. “Hey, Data!” Twilight called down. “How’s it look down there?” “I am following Caspian and Cosmo!” Data yelled up. “Both have reported seeing Aslan!” “Have you?” “No—but that may be because of my positronic net! I am still watching carefully!” “Keep it up!” Twilight kept her position above them. She realized that she felt hopeful. She found it hard to believe that this wasn’t related to their quest in some way. Be it a trap of the Hag they could turn against her, some helpful denizen of the world, or perhaps exactly what Cosmo claimed it was; either way, it was something other than nothing. And Cosmo seemed so convinced… and Caspian agreed, and he was in a position to know. Maybe there really was some truth to it. At least, Twilight hoped so. “C-can we stop flying now?” Toph asked—having gone from defiant to clutching onto Twilight’s body for dear life. “I can’t… there’s just you.” Twilight winced inwardly. I should have teleported us. It would have been easier on her than a flight. “Soon as I find a place to land…” It just so happened that Caspian and Cosmo stopped running at that point—having emerged from the treeline to a decently sized canyon running through the middle of the forest. It was an impressively sized gash upon the earth, but it looked completely unremarkable otherwise. Twilight landed next to them shortly after Data arrived, letting Toph off to plunge her fists into solid ground. “Thank goodness… ground.” “Sorry,” Twilight said, lowering her head. “I didn’t think about you up there… it must have been terrifying.” “It was just fine,” Toph said, shaky. “I’ve been on spaceships and sky bison! So what if they’re bigger and more stable than you? It’s… fine.” “Again, sorry.” Twilight turned to Cosmo. “Cosmo…?” “He’s across the canyon,” Cosmo said, pointing. “He’s beckoning to us.” Twilight squinted, seeing nothing at all. “I don’t see him beckoning,” Caspian said. “Why would he?” He looked down the cliff. “That’s a mighty large drop.” “Why are we here then?” Cosmo asked him. “He wouldn’t have led us here without a reason, right?” “That reason could be anything. We dare not assume we know what he wants.” “There’s nothing there,” Toph said, standing up—still a little shaky. “This is just some canyon. That’s it.” “Toph, I believe it is reasonable to assume there is more than that at this point,” Data said. “Two people are certain of what they see, and they are reliable sources.” “And they can’t even agree if he’s beckoning them or not! This entire thing is fishy, dumb, outrageous, two sandwiches short of a picnic, an—” “Toph, why are you angry?” Twilight asked, cocking her head. “Because this is all stupid!” “I don’t think it’s stupid,” Twilight said. “Neither does Data. I’m a little concerned about what’s happening, that’s for sure. We need to proceed carefully.” Cosmo jumped off the edge of the canyon as Twilight said those words. “Cosmo!” Twilight, Toph, and Caspian gasped in unison. Twilight ran to the edge of the cliff face, ready to levitate Cosmo back up… only to find that Cosmo was perfectly fine, standing on something invisible. “Why were you concerned?” Data asked. “She has the ability to drift with the leaves of her dress.” “Oh…” Twilight blinked. “I forgot about that.” Toph shook her head. “She’s… she’s down there?” “It looks like it,” Twilight said. “Something invisible…? My scans aren’t picking anything up.” “I can’t feel anything at all,” Toph said. “There’s something here!” Cosmo called up. “I’m standing, aren’t I?” She took a few steps back, still on the invisible ground. “Jump on down, you can trust me!” Caspian had already jumped, entering a roll until he made it to her. “Strange place… I have never encountered anything like this.” Twilight glanced to Data. “You’re not detecting anything, are you?” Data shook his head. “They appear to be supported by nothing.” “The instant we’re all down there, it’s going to give out,” Toph said. “Or this is all some kind of trick. Or…” Data jumped, landing on the bridge without an issue. “Are you all insane!?” Toph blurted. Tentatively, Twilight stuck a hoof out over the edge of the canyon. “Don’t do it,” Toph breathed. “I… I thin—” “Don’t do it,” Toph demanded. “Fly over, or something.” “I… don’t think that’s how the rules work here, Toph.” Twilight frowned. “I think we’re supposed to trust.” “Trust some lion we can’t even see!?” “No,” Twilight said, shaking her head. “That would be insane. We’re just being asked to trust our friends.” Toph held out her hands in exasperation. “Who are following some lion illusion thing!” “We know our friends aren’t insane, Toph.” Twilight took in a deep breath. “This is our test. A test… just like one of Celestia’s old tests…” At this point she was talking more to herself than Toph, drawing on her memories of her mentor. Many, many time Celestia had taken the indirect approach in order to help her subjects grow, and that had included Twilight more often than not. So many missions of friendship, growth, and understanding. “We just…” Twilight jumped off the edge of the canyon, eyes closed. She fell down, down, down… but she didn’t scream. Calm, Twilight. Calm. Breathe in, breathe out. She opened her eyes. In reality, she wasn’t falling at all, but resting calmly on the invisible ground. “We just jump,” Twilight said with a smile. “Toph?” “No,” Toph said. “There’s nothing there.” “Toph…” Twilight frowned. “We need to find Tippi,” Cosmo said. “He’s taking us to her. We need t—” “I’m not leaving Toph here,” Twilight interrupted. “Toph… just come down.” Toph stood at the edge of the cliff, wind blowing through her hair. Twilight gestured to Toph with a welcoming hoof. “I know that you’re angry, even if… I don’t really understand why.” “I don’t want it to be true,” Toph said. “Huh?” “If there really is some lion who did all those things in the stories, was oh-so-perfect, and could defeat anything he wanted just by yelling at it… why is there any need for heroes like us!?” She threw her arm to the side. “We have those stories in my world too, about the Avatar! But he’s just a guy, a guy who had to learn, had to grow, and had no idea what he was doing! He’s just like us! This lion… this Aslan… is nothing like us. If he’s exactly what the stories say he is, why is there a massive void threatening to eat all worlds? Why is there a Hag kidnapping people? Why is there any of this?” She lowered an arm, shaking, to her side. “If he really is what they say he is, he could do our job for us—but he isn’t! We’ve been called to save the worlds, which means he hasn’t let out a big old roar and made everything better.” Twilight blinked. “I… hadn’t thought about it like that.” “And… I hadn’t either.” Toph sagged, letting her arms drop to her side. “I didn’t even know why I was angry. I just… was.” She shook her head. “I hope it’s the Hag doing this and it all turns out to be some trap. It’d be better than knowing there’s a lion out there who could solve everything, but lets us suffer anyway.” Twilight closed her eyes and nodded. “I believe I’ve mentioned Celestia before. She is a wondrous leader who has the ability to control the very sun itself. Many of the problems my world faced could have been solved by her with ease. But she… didn’t. And I’m glad she didn’t because my friends and I would never have struggled and grown as people without it. Maybe… maybe this is similar. I’m not sure. I do know I should trust my friends—Celestia already taught me that.” “There is another thought to consider,” Data said. “The Federation has a code: the Prime Directive. We have promised to never interfere in the affairs of societies far below our own, barring extreme circumstances. That means we do not interfere with their wars, their diseases, or their tragedies, even though we could solve most if not all of their problems easily.” “I… don’t think that explains him,” Cosmo said. “No. But it is an example. Not doing the obvious good deed may have a deeper reason behind it—be it noninterference or an attempt to let others learn.” Data looked up to Toph. “Does that help?” Toph sighed. “No. Not really.” “Ah. Perhaps I shall try another illus—” “Don’t bother.” With an exaggerated shrug, Toph jumped off the cliff—and started screaming a moment later. She continued screaming when she hit the invisible platform, holding her head in panic. “I knew it, I’m falling, I’m falling! I’m falling!” Twilight grabbed Toph’s shoulders with her hooves. “You. Are. Not. Falling!” “I… I…” Toph pressed her hands downward, touching the invisible ground. “There’s… nothing there. I…” “But we can stand on it anyway,” Twilight said, helping Toph to her feet. “Can you…?” “I…” Toph swallowed. “I’ve never been… completely blind before.” Shakily, she took a step forward. “I can always… feel the vibrations. And…” “...You don’t have to walk alone.” Twilight levitated Toph onto her back. “You made the jump. You trusted us. Whatever kind of test this was… that had to be enough.” Trembling, Toph grabbed Twilight’s neck as hard as she could. “You… should get moving. Before I barf on you.” Twilight let out a snort. “I’m serious.” “Oh, uh…” Twilight turned to Cosmo, expecting to ask her where to go. Instead, she saw him. Standing a short distance away from them on the invisible platform was the lion. A powerful, golden beast with a tremendous mane that flowed as he moved, as though it were partially liquid. The calm eyes met Twilight’s own—nodding in understanding. Twilight bowed slightly to him. With a twitch of his head, he gestured for them to follow. All of them moved toward him. “...You all see him now, don’t you?” Toph asked. “Yeah,” Twilight said, careful to walk slowly so as not to upset Toph’s stomach further. “Well, I can’t,” Toph grumbled. “Maybe… we’ll finally get some answers.” “I do have a lot of questions,” Twilight admitted. Aslan stopped but didn’t turn around. “Child, there will come a time when all your questions will be answered. That time has not yet come.” “O-oh.” Twilight couldn’t help but sag a little in disappointment. “The Hag’s lair is in a hidden cave at the end of this invisible path—it is of her construction. A perfect retreat. You must go now, alone, to face what is inside. You understand why I leave it to you rather than ending her myself.” Twilight took a deep breath. “Okay, Aslan. We will.” “See that you do.” Slowly, but surely, the lion turned to look at each of the heroes with his face, eyes telling of a being that was so much more than just a Lion. He stopped on Toph, trembling as she held onto Twilight. He looked… sad. And then he was gone. Twilight took in a deep breath, setting her hooves on the invisible ground. “Let’s get Tippi back.”