— Tempered by Flame —
– Chapter III: Dark Dreams –
The sound of flames sprung to life amid the buzzing forest, crackling loudly amongst the other sounds of life. Leaves, charred by the green fire that had suddenly flared upwards, crunched underneath Needle’s hooves as he hesitantly inched his way partially of the portal. Seconds passed as he simply stood there, casting his gaze this way and that, his entire face devoid of expression. Everything around him seemed to give off an almost impossible sense of life here. The bugs clinging to the plants, the animals hidden in the shadows, even the trees themselves seemed to hum with it. Of course, this hum cut off as soon as he took the final step out of the portal.
With a sigh, he sat down on his haunches and continued to stare at the wall of darkened blues and purples, taking in all of the scenery with a small smile on his face. If he could have gotten away with it, Needle would have spent hours simply watching the forest with that same faint smile. All too quickly though, his rumbling stomach and weak knees reminded him of the reason that he had even come here in the first place; a reason that, much to the “worry” of his family, he hated to no end. He was here to do what was necessary to feed both himself and the rest of his race.
He was here to hunt.
Shaking his head sadly, Needle tossed his head back and sniffed at the air. Once the faint, tickling scent that he was searching for had entered his nostrils, he stood up suddenly and began to trot in its direction. The dull, black rock that hung from the black necklace around his neck felt warm as it bounced against his chest with every other step. It was a portal stone, given to him just before he had thrown himself into the doorway back in his own world. Every hunter was given one before they had left, after being told that under no circumstances were they to open the way back without catching some prey first. Not every changeling who left returned but it was the only way to ensure that there was food for the entire village; the portal stones took a good bit of time to make, and were destroyed once they were used.
Needle continued down the unseen path with his nose still in the air, drawn forward by the smell of emotions drifting through the air. Even if they were faint, he could still detect the individual “tastes” that each one had. Anger was sharp and strong, leaving its taste on his tongue long after it had faded away. Happiness was bubbly and light, its taste being quite brief but no less satisfying. As he walked he continued to sort these things, barely noticing that the portal had closed behind him, as it was supposed to do that lest some random pony had the luck to discover it and went to alert the forces of Equestrian Royalty. The last time such a thing had happened the famine had nearly caused a riot that was quelled only when the portal door had been moved to a different location so that it was situated in a different part of Equestria entirely.
He continued forward under a veil of darkness, shielded from the moonlight by the rustling leaves that stretched far above him. The silence was nearly deafening as Needle passed through the forest, his corrupted presence bringing with it an aura of fear that seemingly pressed down on everything around him. Each echoing crunch that followed his every step only served to further remind him that he wasn’t welcome in a world full of life like this one. He was an unnatural, dark stain in a land of natural beauty. Though his thoughts grew darker with every thud of his hooves, the forest all around him began to grow brighter. Small, brief flashes of light trickled down from between the spaces in the rustling leaves, glinting off of his wings as he passed under them in the second that they were there. He found himself driven by some notion to trot faster, to leave behind the forest and enter the open land despite the fact that the dark reason he had come here.
He wanted to see the sky again.
Looking up into the great abyss above, being lost in the sheer depth of the fabric of the heavens above was something he always had to do before he went off to hunt. It was a calming thing, watching the stars shimmer all over that not-quite-black blanket that smothered the world in its embrace, complete only with the large, silvery moon that hung high as its centerpiece. While the rest of his brethren would have kicked him if they caught him doing such a thing, Needle preferred to stand in the pale light with his eyes cast up towards the sky. It wasn’t ever like this in his world, where the ground was cracked and the sky was always filled with grey ashes that floated endlessly in the hot winds that scoured the landscape almost daily.
His hooves pounded on the forest floor as he galloped out of the trees with a soft cry of happiness, casting his gaze skyward as he broke free of all the dark browns into a world of slightly bleached greens and blues. As he slowed to a stop, Needle couldn’t help but let his mouth drop open as he took in the canvas above. He stayed like this even longer than he did in the forest, though, just as before, he was drawn out of his admiration by yet another painful twinge of his stomach. If he didn’t hurry he knew he’d end up feeding as soon as he caught some random, but no less unfortunate, pony that happened into his path.
With a wistful sigh, Needle Wings began the slow trot that would take him to the village that was a little distance away, his nose twitching as the various emotions filling the air with their enticing scents tickled at his nose. Within just a few minutes he found himself walking through the village outskirts, looking back and forth for anypony nearby. Though the streets were seemingly abandoned, he ducked behind a building and closed his eyes as emerald flames spiraled along his body. They held no heat in their flickering forms, only a special kind of magic that lingered long after the flames had faded away, rendering him visible only as an unassuming grey stallion to anypony else who happened to look at him.
His heart was furiously pounding as he cautiously stepped back out into the street, looking up and down said road to make sure that nopony happened to start walking by. Once he was sure that he was in the clear, his steps came a little easier, but still slow and cautious all the same. Enough stories of magical torture being enacted upon those who were caught had circulated among the village that Needle had enough sense to tread lightly in the hunting grounds.
He continued down his cautious path for some time, jumping at every errant sound or shadow. Rather, he did until a very peculiar and strong scent made him take a few steps towards it without his realizing it. It was a wonderful smell, filling his body with warmth as he breathed it in and nearly overwhelming him as it did so. It was a terrible smell at the same time, because he knew that it was exactly what he was sent to hunt.
It was the scent that a young pony gave off.
Needle Wings didn’t even realize he had reached the place where she was until he found himself staring at the door of the house. His magic sputtered and faltered as he tried and failed to muster up enough focus to unlatch the lock, though eventually the pieces of metal let out a muffled click as they came undone. Tremors ran down his spine and along his hoof as he pushed open the door slowly, and despite the fact he knew that he was perfectly capable of fighting off any possible threat inside the house, he stepped inside as quickly as possible and shut the door behind him.
However, he nearly ran right back out of it after he saw what was in the room ahead. There wasn’t a guard standing there, his spear leveled at his face, nor was there a mob of angry ponies that were hungry for his blood. There was simply room, a plain space with a set of couches in the middle of it with toys strewn this way and that. He recoiled every time his hoof brushed up against one of the things, fighting back hisses every time. They didn’t burn or hurt him, but they gave off the strongest scent of a filly that he had ever smelled. Each time he touched or looked down at one, he was reminded that he was here to hunt.
He was here to be the monster that he is.
As he slowly approached the wooden door that the tantalizing smells were drifting from, Needle had to force himself a little more every step of the way. His people always hunted the young ponies, despite it being that much more horrific, because they always gave up the most fear and pain when they were fed from. They offered up the most food, food that would be slowly pulled from them with a set of glistening fangs that sunk into their neck. That was the part that he hated the most, the bite. Not only did he hear their shrieks of pain and anguish, but he could feel it alongside their growing weaker. A pony with no emotions is as good as dead, which is why Needle always bit a little deeper so that the pony wouldn’t have to suffer such a fate for too long. Normally the prey die of their wounds, but some of the more barbaric changelings of the village liked to keep the emotionless ponies alive, to taunt and tease and abuse as much as they wanted to.
His hoof trembled against the wood of the door as he braced himself to step inside. Despite his mind’s shrieks at him to not turn around, Needle found himself staring back at the happy home that he had just spent what felt like an age walking through. Seconds ticked past as he simply stood there, looking over the room behind before he entered the room beyond, a cold shiver running down his spine as every single tick of the grandfather clock that rested against the wall clicked out into the air, his ears almost twitching with every one.
The slab of oak didn’t creak as it swung open to reveal a room that had every inch of space practically covered in soft pinks and yellows. The floor was smattered with a generous helping of stuffed animals, all of which came together to form a hazardous minefield of toys that protected the centerpiece of the room. They all radiated from the fluffy, overly puffy bed just like the nearly overwhelming smell that the pony hidden in its covers gave off, though the toys didn’t go straight into his nostrils and draw him closer to her. Everything else seemed to fade away as he stalked up to the side of the bed, his vision filled with the sight of the gently rising and falling lump that was underneath the blanket. He lifted it back to reveal what he knew was already there: an innocent, sleeping little filly with a yellow coat. She didn’t stir as he leaned in to softly whisper to her. “I’m sorry.”
With a flash of emerald flames, they were gone.
A weary sigh broke through the dull buzz of the forest as Cherish let the makeshift rope of vines fall limply from her mouth, her body exhausted from dragging along the changeling behind her. Her eyes followed the tangled mass of green to rest on the still unmoving creature that was sprawled loosely out on the very broad leaf that she had taken from a nearby tree to better drag him along with. Despite the fact that she had been with him for a few hours now, Cherish’s legs couldn’t stop trembling as she stepped towards him for a closer look. The slightly-luminescent green stuff that had been leaking out of a few places in his shell had finally stopped flowing out, but the amount that did rendered the changeling’s body a neon-green color that shone brightly in the near-blackness that continued to press against their little circle of light.
She found herself slowly reaching out with a hoof to gently brush along one of his pitted legs, nearly recoiling at the feel of the cold and slightly slick shell. Despite her mind shouting at her to run away, she continued to gently rub at the green-blue fluid in hopes of getting it off of the changeling’s body, though her efforts only managed to flake off a little of the stuff. “Looks like it’s dried on already.” Her eyes slowly moved over to stare at his face, which was contorted in what looked to be pain, but it was too dark even with her horn being lit for her to be certain.
As Cherish took her hoof away, a soft murmur left the creature’s lips, breaking through the dull, monotonous drone of the forest once again. Any thought of recoiling away was quickly and entirely taken from her mind as a flood of worry filled it instead, her hoof now resting on his shoulder as she leaned down close to get a better look at his face, concern lighting in her eyes as she stared intently, though she didn’t have a clue what she could do to stop any pain if she saw it. After a few moments of silence, another quiet set of words left his mouth. “No... No I won’t do it, Flame Horn. We aren’t supposed to be this.”
She couldn’t help but lean in closer to hear what else he was saying, though she couldn’t hear the words over the drone of the forest. “Supposed to be what? What won’t you do?” Silence was all that greeted her words as she stood there, leaning down as close as she could, though that swiftly changed when a flash of white reminded her that he still had those very dangerous-looking and sligthly-bared fangs that seemed like they could easily bite through her coat if she accidentally startled him if he woke up.
From her new spot a few steps away, Cherish sighed heavily and made to pick up the vines again, though she stopped when a howl in the distance nearly made her jump out of her skin and actually made her neck pop when she jerked her head around fearfully to look off into the blackness in the direction of the terrifying sound. Seconds ticked past as she stood poised to gallop away from whatever it was that had howled like that, though eventually she realized that nothing was coming for her and she shook her head at her own silliness. “Not everything here is out to get you, Cherish.” She could just imagine her sister telling her that, if she were walking beside her right now. “No need to jump out of your skin at every little thing, silly.”
Of course, she nearly screamed out loud as she stepped forward and heard a loud, strained groan from beneath her hooves, though she swallowed hard to prevent the noises from escaping her throat. “I’m sorry!” Her flustered apology was interrupted by yet another groan from the changeling by her legs, a worrying one that went on for even longer than the last. Cherish knelt down beside him and rested her hoof on his own, and even though he couldn’t hear her she still spoke in a soft, breathy whisper. “H-How can I help you?” There wasn’t any response save for the slightly hoarse and labored sounds of his breathing.
She got to her hooves as an idea clicked in her head. Before she knew it, Cherish was trotting off in the direction of a stream that she had seen just a few minutes ago when she was busy trying to untangle the vine-ropes from a tree root that was very knotted and curled. “Stay right there, I’ll get some water and wash you off!” The darkness seemed to close around her as she trotted away from him, kept back only by the light of her horn now.