A Novice Swordsman in the Canterlot Court

by DungeonMiner


14-Nightmares and Swordfights

Chapter 14

Alan held his sword close as he and his opponent circled. The mana pony’s stick was held level with its head, its designated point coming straight at him. Judgement gleamed in the evening light, the now white blade reflecting the moon’s rays and diffusing them in a chromating ring around the room.

Alan took the briefest second to ponder why the armor had faded, but Judgement had stayed the same since his run-in with the rainbow beam, before turning his attention back to the fight. It was bad enough that he had to keep focusing on his form.

Suddenly, Alan swung, his blade coming up before smashing down on the wooden blade, swinging like a windshield wiper as the pony’s guard broke.

Alan’s blade came down, and after a hardly noticeable jerk upwards, the tip of the blade rested, pointed down towards the floor.

Alan stood, his upper body completely exposed to the pony’s stick.

The magical opponent swung sideways at him, only for Alan to raise the hilt of the sword, blade still pointed down, catching the attack in a block.

Alan smirked. The attack had come from his left.

A bad mistake.

Alan’s wrist rotated, the blade swinging up in another windshield wiper motion, and he sent the stick flying to the other side of the room.

A downward slash split the mana in two, and the fight was over, just that fast.

“Not bad,” Twilight said from her balcony, picking up the stick with magic.

Alan nodded, before frowning. “My transition from the Krumphau to the Alber guard wasn’t as smooth as I liked.”

Twilight blinked. “You know, I still don’t know what those words mean.”

“They’re probably German,” Alan said, before sheathing Judgement.

“Are you done for the day?” Twilight asked, noticing the motion.

“Yeah, I think I did alright. I’ll have to practice some more though, but it can wait until tomorrow.” He rolled his neck, hearing a few satisfying pops. “Hey,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “you still hungry?”

“A little,” she answered.

“Do you want to go to Sugarcube Corner and grab a cupcake with me?”

“Sure,” she replied, coming down the stairs as she hovered the stick along the wall.

Alan smiled, before grabbing his coat and hat.

“Do you really need the hat?” She asked, “I mean, it’s dark out.”

“No, but it’s my hat,” He said. “Hats are cool.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “It’s pointless.”

“Oh?” Alan asked, adjusting the hat on his head. “You’ve been Rarity’s friend longer than I have; you tell me if she would think Style is pointless.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow, but didn’t answer.

Alan chuckled, heading for the door. Holding the door open, he gave a mock flourish.

“My Lady,” he said, holding it open.

Twilight gave him a gentle buck to the arm as she passed.

Alan chuckled again as he followed her out.

The dark evening sky met them as they walked outside, but it was still early enough that everyone was still awake in their houses, as evidenced by the long streams of light that fell across the road from the windows. Luna’s moon hung suspended in the sky, surrounded by stars. It was a very nice night.

Alan looked up, before laughing quietly to himself.

“What are you laughing about?” Twilight asked, walking next to him.

Alan shook his head. “Oh, I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Twilight asked, looking up at him.

Alan smiled. “The time you were trying to figure out Pinkie Sense.”

Twi rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. “Can’t imagine why you’d think that was funny. After all, you were the one who volunteered to distract the Hydra.”

“Volunteered?” Alan asked. “I was pushed, thank you very much.”

“By who?” Twilight asked, teasing.

“Oh, come on, it was you, Fluttershy, AJ and Spike. Who else was going to rescue you guys?”

“Ah, yes, and I’m sure the fact that you wanted to yell ‘Leroy Jenkins’ again had nothing to do with your act of selfless bravery.”

“It was more like an homage to the patron saint of suicide missions.”

Twilight shook her head, having a decent understanding of video games and the lore thereof from the geek.

“But what really got me was the fact you exploded into flames,” Alan said. “You looked a lot like another video game character.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, a Pokemon.”

“Weird,” she said.

Alan laughed. “What’s this? Twilight Sparkle is evolving! Twilight Sparkle has evolved into Rapidash!”

Twilight laughed.

“Twilight Sparkle used Magic Blast! It was super effective!”

Twilight shook her head, smiling as the jokes becoming too in depth for her limited knowledge.

Alan finished, chuckling.

“Hey, thanks for that little extra push you gave me then.”

“What?”

“You gave me a push over the ravine when I was trying to escape the Hydra, thanks for that.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.”

“Well, while I’m at it,” Twilight said, “Thanks for trying to help me escape the mob with the Gala ticket fiasco.”

“Pff,” Alan said, waving a dismissive hand. “That was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Twilight said, surprised. “You carried me on your back as you scaled half of Ponyville! How could you say that was nothing? Give yourself some credit here!”

“Well, okay, maybe it was something.”

Twilight shook her head. “Listen to you! The help you’ve given me alone could earn you a medal! And that’s not even mentioning when you helped with Discord.”

Alan nodded, before his brows furrowed. “You know, you never told me how you guys escaped his influence.”

“I was able to use a memory charm on them—it reminded them of the times we had together, and broke his spell.”

Alan nodded. “Alright, but how did you escape?”

Twilight eyes widened slightly, “Uh...” Her eyes wildly jumped around, looking around, looking for something. “Oh look!” she said, dashing forward. “We’re here!”

Before Alan could say anything else, Twi had already disappeared into the door of Sugarcube Corner.

Alan blinked, before shaking his head. “Women...or mares...whatever...” With that thought, he walked inside.

“Heya!” Pinkie said as soon as he walked in. “You two out on a nighttime walk?”

“And we were thinking about a nighttime snack,” Alan said with a smirk.

“Well you guys are in luck!” the Pink pony chirped. “Here’s the last batch for the day!” A plate of one baker’s dozen of chocolate and vanilla cupcakes was pushed in front of them.

“Thanks Pinkie,” Twilight said, raising her coin purse, only for Alan’s bits to beat her to it.

“My idea, I pay,” he said simply.

“Aw, thanks, Alan.” Twi said.

He nodded. “Go ahead and help yourself to one, Pinkie.”

“Yay!” she cheered before gobbling one whole.

Alan shook his head, before diving in.

Twilight smiled.

<<<|Ω|>>>

Twilight yawned as she got out of bed, feeling unusually more chipper than normal.

Stretching as she walked over to her mirror, her horn glowed as she levitated her brush to her mane, smoothing it out.

She was very happy this morning.

Maybe she should get cupcakes more often.

Her mane brushed, she gave herself a very quick look-over before heading downstairs for breakfast.

Her hooves clopped cheerfully as she went down the stairs, humming to herself.

“Good morning, Spike. Morning Alan,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

“Morning!” The young drake replied.

Alan stood, facing the window.

He did not answer.

“Alan?” Twilight asked, worry edging into her voice.

A laugh echoed in the room.

It belonged to him.

Alan, his skin and hair gray, turned.

His eyes were dull scarlet, and a frown turned his normally joyful face stern.

Twilight’s eyes widened as her ears flattened. She took a hesitant step backwards, “N-no.”

He drew his sword, the once white blade now black, and the gold now blood-crimson.

“No.”

He raised the sword, the blade resting against his right shoulder.

She continued to back away.

Alan was gone, and in his place was a monster.

Discord laughed again.

“No. No. No.”

The sword came up.

“No. No!”

And then it came down.

“No!” Twilight yelled as she shot up from her bed, her eyes searching her dark room wildly.

A dream.

Nothing but a dream.

Her breath escaped in ragged gasps as she gulped down air.

“Calm down Twilight,” she told herself, “It was just a nightmare.”

Nightmare. The word in itself could not hold the terror she felt in those sleeping moments. When the one she had counted on as a friend turned into a ravenous, devastating monster.

She had seen glimpses of it. There were times when Alan would almost lose himself in the swordplay. Where she could see the glint in his eye, that predatory instinct of violence and bloodletting.

It scared her.

She often wondered what kind of hidden creature lurked behind the normal mask that she knew as Alan; only for those thought to be slapped away by her conscious mind.

It’s no mask, she’d tell herself, masks took much too much focus; a pony, or person in this case, could only keep up a mask for three months without a break. Alan lived with her, had lived with her for almost a year and a half now, there was no way he could keep up a mask.

Besides, this is Alan we’re talking about. He carried Fluttershy up a mountain.

He eats meat.

He saved Rarity’s reputation.

He wears a fox skin for a shoulder perch.

He saved Appleloosa.

He threatened a pony with a knife.

He saved Ponyville from a Parasprite swarm.

He could kill everyone in the whole town and no one could stop him in time.

He helped Rainbow Dash earn her confidence back.

He manipulated all of you.

He helped...with...that...

Yeah...there was that...

Anyway, that’s not the point. Alan couldn’t have a mask.

The Alan she knew was the Alan that was. That was all that was really important.

“You sound so convincing,” her subconscious jabbed.

Well who asked you?

“I don’t think you trust him.”

Of course I trust him. I trust him with my life.

And then her mind issued its challenge, one that would tear at her for the next three days.

“Prove it.”

<<<|Ω|>>>

Alan, his sword resting against the right shoulder, held his stance. Alan really preferred having the blade against his shoulder rather than over his head. Both were technically correct, but he felt holding the sword overhead made the vom Tag look stupid, and while the style wasn’t necessarily about looks, it never hurt.

Alan took a deep breath, double checking his stance, balance and form quickly before launching into his strike.

A horizontal strike, about neck level flew through the empty air in front of him. The Thwerhau, or, as best Alan could figure, the “Thwart-hew”, was designed to break the vom Tag guard, and would otherwise be useful for attacking taller enemies.

Alan grimaced before returning to the vom Tag. The hew just didn’t feel right. There was something about it that didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t know what, but that would come in time, he was sure.

He tried it again, practicing against the air, trying to hone his form. Twilight was busy today, doing something or other, so he had to fight alone.

Well...the audience didn’t count.

“Do something awesome already!” the young filly pegasus yelled.

“Scootaloo, he’s practacin’! Ya can’t just go and ask him to do stuff.”

“Sure I can! I came here expecting awesomeness! What I got instead was the same move over and over.”

Alan stopped, a frown on his face.

He really shouldn’t do this.

Arthur had said time and time again that flashy moves were neither useful nor advised. They did not help a knight with the sword, they did not help him fight better, they didn’t help at all.

But at the same time...

Alan sighed.

Sometimes you just can’t win.

Alan dropped his stance, his shoulders sagging before throwing Judgement high into the air. Spinning quickly, Alan tossed one of his throwing knives after the sword. The two clashed, the now magical blade causing sparks to fly off the knife.

Scootaloo’s eyes widened at the sight.

Before she could say anything though, Alan moved, tossing his sheath knife in the air. The knives hit each other in the air as Judgement began falling back to earth, rainbows of light reflecting off the blade. Judgement fell first, Alan catching the sword by the handle. The knives were next, Alan catching the throwing knife before tossing it up to catch the other. Juggling the knives in one hand, Alan sheathed Judgement before pulling the other throwing knives and adding them to the juggling act.

The hardest part was the sheath knife. The heavier blade could quite easily throw off his juggling, a talent which he had learned back in high school for a talent show that never happened. So, grabbing the blade in one hand, and juggling the three knives with the other, he began to balance the knife handle on his nose.

Then with three quick throws, he tossed the three throwing knives at Twilight’s house, where they dug into the bark of the tree.

Grabbing the last knife off his nose, Alan took a bow as the Cutie Mark Crusaders burst into applause.

“There!” the pegasus cried. “That’s what I’m talking about! That was Awesome!”

Alan chuckled before standing, noticing a stoic, silent red pony nearby. “Big Mac, it’s been a while,” he said, greeting the large red farmer.

“Eyup,” the draft pony replied.

“Here to pick up Applebloom and the others?”

“Eyup,” he said again.

"Aw,” Scootaloo groaned, “but it was just getting to the cool part!”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Hey, need any more help at the farm?”

“Nope,” the pony answered.

“Alright, well call me if you need some help.”

“Eyup,” he said as the Crusaders followed him back to the farm.

Alan shook his head. As expected, he hadn’t gotten any other words out of Applejack’s brother, but not for lack of trying.

But he could get back to that train of thought later, he had some guard breakers to get back to. Maybe he should practice the Scheitelhau.

What interested Alan the most was how Arthur seemed to ping-pong back and forth between German and Italian (the latter he recognized readily thanks to one too many hours playing Assassin’s Creed).

Dui Tempe, for example, was the name of one of the tempos, the defend and counter attack tempo, or “two time.” It was definitely Italian, no ifs, ands, or buts. However, he then turned around and talked about the guards in what he assumed was German.

Well, whatever, let’s just get on with it.

Holding the sword up, resting on his shoulder, Alan twisted it around in an odd-feeling horizontal strike.

Alan grimaced.

That was bad, really, really bad.

Note to self, never, ever use the Scheitelhau.

Considering that it was supposed to be a downward strike, that was not good.

The issue was, he was supposed to use the “short” blade, the one that faced away from his enemy.

Maybe he should look at some more of the Italian attacks.

“That worked great,” the voice of the lavender unicorn said behind him.

“Yeah...I noticed...” Alan said, turning toward her.

She wore a very smug look on her face as she watched from the balcony.

“So are you done with your errand or what?”

“Yeah, I’m done for today,” she answered. “Why, you want some opponents?”

Alan nodded. “I need some practice with my grappling as well as some tempo practice.”

“Alright,” she said, “they’ll be waiting for you once you get inside.”

Alan nodded before heading inside the house.

Instantly upon entering, Alan was attacked by three of the nearly immaterial equines.

Opting for a low guard, Alan brought his sword up, under the attack of one of the ponies, stopping him dead in his tracks. The other two, however, were quick to move in, throwing him off balance, and off of his tempo.

Right now he was in a bad situation. He was on the defensive, and his opponent was controlling the fight.

Good, he needed it.

Wow, that sounded arrogant.

Stuck in Dui Tempe, Alan was forced to counterattack after the opponent attacked. Dui Tempe was the slowest tempo, also the easiest to use. It was also the easiest to break. The issue was, of course, that since he was facing two opponents, they could stagger their tempo to essentially always be on the offensive.

Which, of course, they did.

Twilight was smart like that. After all, she had read the material.

Sidestepping, Alan isolated one of the enemies, before binding their blades. Forcing the other pony around, Alan had just enough time to reach with his left hand for his enemy’s hilt. With a quick tug, Alan yanked the blade away from the pony’s magical grasp, before turning both blades on the now defenseless enemy.

Now it was just him and his opponent.

Alan and the mana pony circled, Alan always moved the blades as he did, moving from guard to guard; low, middle, high, middle, and low again, but never the same guard twice. Alan went to another low guard, before suddenly making an uppercut move, hitting the ethereal pony’s own guard, and sending the blade up.

Twilight’s puppet parried, pushing back on Alan’s sword as it went passed him.

Alan’s sword, going much farther than he wanted, would simply take too long to get back into position.

With that in mind, and Twilight’s stick sword coming very close to his chest, Alan jumped backward, a very long movement in the tempo, but necessary. Of course, now that there was no consistent tempo, he could start one. Jumping forward, but not closing the distance entirely, he hoped to start Mezzo Tempo, “half time.”

Half time was the tempo of attacking an enemy before he finishes his own attack. It was the fastest of the three tempos, however, also the hardest to use.

Might as well aim high, right?

The pony went in for an attack, and Alan returned with his own slash at the pony’s head, just as the pony had wound up his own swing.

“Not bad, Alan,” Twilight said from the balcony, coming down the stairs. “You managed tempo really well.”

“Thanks,” Alan said, before sliding Judgement home, “but you didn’t do too bad yourself setting up that fight, trying to keep me off balance.”

“Thanks.” she said. “But...” she hesitated, her gaze falling.

“What?” Alan asked.

“Well...I, um...I was actually kind of hoping to spar against you...you know, so I can improve, and ultimately, help you get better.”

Alan cocked his head. “What? Why? Aren’t you getting enough practice already?”

“Well, yes, but...I thought that this would be a good experience for me. Besides, I know you won’t actually hurt me. Because...I trust you...” She mumbled the last sentence, so quiet that Alan didn’t even hear her.

“Well...alright...” Alan said, before picking up one of the sticks that lay on the floor, handing it to the unicorn’s magical grasp. “Well then, where do you want to start?”

“The beginning is as good a place as any.”

Alan nodded. “Alright, well then, I guess the parts of the sword then...”

Drawing his sword, Alan held Judgement carefully in his hands, “To start with the obvious, we have the Hilt, composed of the pommel, handle, and quillons.” His hand went from the grip to the blade, “Moving outward, we have the Forte, the strongest, and slowest part of the blade. The Forte can take more punishment than the rest of the blade, and because of this, you always have to use the Forte to defend.” He moved his hand down to the tip of the blade, “The point, referred to as the Foible, is the weakest part of the blade, however, it is also the fastest, able to make attacks much faster than the Forte. So, always attack with Foible, defend with the Forte. And then finally we have the Mezzo, meaning ‘middle’, which can be used for both offense and defense.”

“Ok,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes, “We can skip ahead a bit.”

“Alright,” Alan said, heading up the stairs, “then we’re going to spar.”

“Then why are you going upstairs?” she asked.

“You’ll see!” he said, before disappearing into his room. He reappeared a second later, holding something in his hand.

“I know you’ve got some skill, Twi,” Alan said, “but now you have to physically move to press your advantage.”

“Why did you bring down your clock?” she asked.

“It’s called an iPod,” he said, flipping through his library. “I’d figure you’d know that, considering how many times I’ve asked you to charge it.”

“And why did you bring it down here?”

“Workout music.”

She blinked.

“Aw, buck it, just go for shuffle,” Alan said, before picking up one of the other discarded sticks, and slipping into a low guard.

A slow metal guitar came from the small thing’s speaker.

“Oh, man,” Alan said, “it’d have to pick their slow song.” He moved to change it, but was quickly interrupted.

“Hang on, I want to hear that.” Twilight said, as the vocals began.

“So why don’t you come with me?
Take a trip to the other side.
Where you, you and I, we can sing, we can fly
We can dance as the stars go by.

And if the heavens should open up
With a vision inside Jah love
The earth and the moon and the sun will align
With the voice from the sky above, one love

So come on and shine with me
Like the beautiful star you are
So come on and shine with me
Shine with me.”

The chorus struck a chord with Twilight, not that she really understood why, but she really liked it.

“Float through the sky and look through my eyes
And then you will see what happens
Nowhere to hide, look deep down inside
In life you must take your chances

And come with me
And you will see

My love is like
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la”

Ok...that was pretty pointless.

“And come with me
And you will see
One love

So come on and shine with me
Like the beautiful star you are
And leave it behind with me
'Cause forever is not that far
So come on and shine with me
Like the beautiful star you are
And leave it behind with me
Shine with me.”

Again, that chorus.

“Shine on, shine on, shine on, one love
Shine on, shine on, shine on, one love
Shine on, shine on, shine on, one love
Shine on, shine on, shine on, one love

So come on and shine with me
Like the beautiful star you are
And leave it behind with me
'Cause forever is not that far
So come on and shine with me
Like the beautiful star you are
And leave it behind with me
And shine with me
Shine with me, shine with me”

The song ended, and Twilight was silent for a while.

“Well?” Alan asked.

“I liked it.”

“Good. Now let’s get to the fight, shall we?”

<<<|Ω|>>>

A day or so later, Twilight was getting another lesson.

“Alright, Twi, as you know, Arthur frequently mentions ‘The Path’ in his book.”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding bored.

“The Path is how the sword moves best around your body, keeping momentum and allowing smooth movement. It is not to be confused with the resistance that a sword will produce, but rather, it is resistance from one’s own body.”

“Yes, yes.”

“You have a major advantage in this,” he said, tossing one of their sparring sticks at her, which she expertly caught with magic.

“Since you control your sword with magic, you do not have the same limitations of arms and hands; you are able to contort the sword in ways that would break my arms.” Alan circled her, “However, with this advantage, there comes a disadvantage.” As he came across her he snatched the handle of the sword, wresting it from her magical grasp. “You’re more easily disarmed.”

“Yes, yes, let’s get on with it, already,” Twilight groaned.

“As you wish,” was the only reply before cold steel ripped through her.

Pain erupted from her nerves as she stared face to face with the red-eyed man. Discord laughed, and she could only gasp for breath.

Twilight sat up in bed panting.

Another nightmare.

She slammed her pillow with a hoof. “Come on! This is the fourth night in a row! Let me sleep!”

I will...once you prove that you trust him.

“I do trust him!” she said aloud, before a half-asleep groan from Spike’s basket reminded her that he was there. “Fine,” She whispered to herself, getting out of bed. “You want to see me trust him? I show you trust— I will put myself in the most vulnerable position I can think of, then we’ll see who’s trusting here.”

She stopped in front of his bedroom door, before her brain managed to catch up with her.

What are you doing? Did you seriously come down here to ask if you could sleep with him tonight?

“Well...that sounds a lot worse when you put it that way.”

You were about to go in there and ask if you could sleep with him tonight.

“Ok, yeah...that sounds bad...”

Alright, assuming that he doesn’t take this the dirty way, you expect him to give you room in what he has already described as a horribly crowded bed, and snuggle with you as though you were some massive teddy bear?

“Well...”

And if, Celestia forbid, he takes it the wrong way, do you realize how many ethical issues would be brought up?

“Ok, look, it wasn’t my best idea, alright?”

I’ll say.

“But I am still going to do it.”

What?

“I’m going to prove that I trust him,” she told herself before quietly opening his door.

Woah, woah, slow down, Twi, this is not appropriate.

“Don’t care right now,” she thought back, tip-hoofing to the bedside.

Her subconscious was about to reply with yet another excuse, but Twilight cut it off. “Alan?”

The figure under the blanket shifted.

“Alan?”

A moan answered her, as a hand reached for his iPod. The screen flashed to life, and Alan groaned again. “Twilight, it’s three in the morning.”

“I know, I know...it’s just...” she paused, looking down at her hooves, and blushing. “I just...I can’t sleep. I’ve been having nightmares for the past few nights, and I was just wondering if I could...well, sleep with you tonight?”

Alan didn’t reply, but simply moved over and opened the blanket.

“Thank you, I’m sorry about this, I really am, thank you.”

“Just go to sleep,” he answered, trying to sound as gentle as possible while being so tired.

She nodded as she got close to him, one of his arms falling over her.

She didn’t mind that much.

And then, finally, she went to sleep, a deep, dreamless sleep.

<<<|Ω|>>>

Across the sea, in the Empire of Gryphus, General Markus Ironclaw checked over his uniform. Ironclaw’s brother, King Bloodfeather, would only expect the best from his general.

Ironclaw quickly stifled the need to strangle said sibling, before taking a deep breath. Holding it for a second, he exhaled, before nodding to one of the guards.

The Guard opened the door, and Ironclaw entered his older brother's throne room.

King Bloodfeather laughed as his general entered, enjoying some joke that one of his many viziers told him.

Bloodfeather’s viziers had the hardest job, Ironclaw thought, keeping his moron of a relative happy on a 24 hour basis.

“Ah!” the King said, raising his golden goblet, sloshing the wine in it. “My General! Back from the battlefield of politics, I see!”

“It was a crime scene,” Ironclaw deadpanned, “An assassination of one of your highest ranking nobles.”

Bloodfeather waved a dismissive claw. “Politics, like I said.”

Ironclaw’s eye twitched.

“So what have you learned from your dive into...what’s the word?” he asked one of his viziers.

“Forensics, your Highness.”

“Yes!” he cheered, “forensics!”

Ironclaw briefly wondered what power had caused him to be born second of a set of twins, with that moron on the throne by two minutes and twenty three seconds. “Well, your Highness, we have been able to determine who was in fact guilty for the crime.”

“Good! Give him a fortune, and then behead him!”

Ironclaw did his best not to sigh. “Your Highness, there is a slight issue.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Ironclaw reached into the bag he had carried in with him, and pulled out a plaster mold. “The creature that killed Lord Goldbelly, left this print.”

“Let me see.”

The general approached, handing the mold to the king.

Bloodfeather looked it over, his eyebrow rising. It looked similar to a claw, but its five talons were not deep, but rather much longer, with the exception of the fifth, which seemed stubby by comparison. “And what manner of creature leaves a print like this?”

Ironclaw smirked. “Only one. A Human, and there is but one human in all the world.”

--------------------------------

I am so sorry.

This chapter was much too long in coming.

There are a few reasons for this, the first being writer’s block for my first story, then I was waiting for my new research material (a few books on swordsmanship), I lost my internet connection on Saturday, and finally, I recently got myself an editor, and there were a few scheduling issues.

So anyway, say hi to Count Calamari, or Sir Squidfish, or whatever you want to be called.

“Hi Fishie!”

“Uh...thanks...Pinkie.”

You get used to it.

“I noticed you have a lot of italics in this chapter.”

Yeah, I may have gone a little overboard with that.

“Oh, so it’s supposed to be like that? I thought my head was crooked.”

Well anyway, guys, I’m sure after a long wait like that, the last thing you want to hear is that the next chapter will take longer, but...

“There’s just no easy way to break it to you, but smile anyways, because Fishie and DM here are going to be hard at work!”

Yes we will, the Count and I are going to be editing the previous chapters to make your reading experience all the better.

“So, do be patient, we’re going to be busy, but the next chapter will be good.”

“I second that!”

Motion carried, it will be awesome. In the meantime, thanks for reading, and See you guys later!

“Oh! One more thing, the super-awesome song Alan played can be found here!”

“Bye guys, and have fun!"