-----Chapter 5, Getting to the root of things---
Having realised he kinda needed that guy, Nicolas momentarily returned to the scene of the fight. He squatted over his counterpart, whose name has changed with such frequency that I have started to omit it. Nic was surprised to see it morph back to its original form. It was black and hole-ridden, like any dead body found in southern America prior to the abolishment of slavery. Nic picked up the unconscious creature which had imitated him and set off back toward the library.
Nic was unabated by his earlier rejection – no one in their right mind would turn down Nicolas Cage and an unconscious other in the middle of the night, and a magical horse was no exception to the rule.
Nicolas again approached the library, the creature under his arm let out a faint groan, a bit like the sound a cat makes if you drag it across glass paper. He knocked on the door of the tree with his free hand, making a teapot shape with his arms. The door began to open, and, using tactics learnt from countless evictions, Nic place his foot in the doorway. The unicorn on the other side of the door let out a sharp cry. Nicolas forced his arm through the gap in the doorway and threw the door open. Twilight’s horn glowed with angry fervency.
Her eyes leapt to the form under Mr.Cage’s arm.
“A changeling!?” Twilight withdrew cautiously.
“Oh, is that what it is!” Nicolas smiled his fake smile, “Well you were so friendly and warm that I brought it for you.”
“That thing is dangerous!”
“So are aliens, but I bet you didn’t get Knowing over here, huh.” The pony stared back blankly.
“Yeah didn’t think so…” Cage looked about the room, books stood in neat shelves all around the room. Nic considered if his autobiography ‘Uncaged: The Biography of Nicholas Cage’ would be there and reasoned that as the greatest book of all time, it would be.
“Put that on the table.” Ordered Twilight.
“What? The body?”
“NO YOUR JACKET!”, Twilight pulled a face that was strangely familiar to Nicolas, it seemed to say ‘You Don’t Say”. Nicolas did as prompted and placed the changeling prone on the desk.
Nicolas’ attention was suddenly usurped by a small purple dragon brushing against his leg, the sensation was equivalent to French bread being slowly dragged across ones face.
“Oh, you’re cute.” Began Nic in a tone that is often adopted by paedophile’s when opening a bag of Liquorish All Sorts invitingly in a playground. The dragon sped away at an understandable speed and Nic looked away, flushed. (Please don’t interpret this as a Rule 34 set up- I promise they won’t fuck!)
“Where did you find this?” Nicolas snapped back to reality, and pretended he had been listening. “It…uh, Attacked me when I was in the back alleys.” The unicorn nodded while scouring the shelves, searching for a pertinent book with an impressive urgency. Eventually the mare stopped and opened a dark blue, leather-bound book. On the face of the book was an emblazoned symbol, not quite a mare, not quite a bat. The symbol was all gold with the exception of the eyes, which were small blue gems. The pages inside the book were a frayed and bruised papyrus – like every page had been made of an unrolled scroll.