//------------------------------// // Chapter Nine // Story: Speak Now Or... // by The Tyrannical //------------------------------// There was not a single guard who wasn't actively exercising in the courtyard, and by extension, there wasn't a single guard who wasn't tired and aching. Their new captain had every stallion working overtime, whether it was running laps around the track or supporting their bodies with the tips of their wings. "Keep going, Grit! Push yourself!" he ordered a visibly exhausted stallion on the track. So far, Shining Armor was impressed by the crystal guard's endurance and ability. The numerous stallions had held out for longer than most of the guard back in Canterlot; certainly longer than he expected. Not one of them was lacking in the physical department. But that didn't mean he couldn't push them a bit further. With a bit more time, the Crystal guard could be turned into some of Equestria's finest troops. What he didn't expect to see were the two guards he sent out earlier, coming back from their mission just as tired and spent as everypony else. He spotted them coming through the door with heavy breaths, and with a couple dents in their armor. Seeing the two of them in their drained state gave Shining Armor some pause. With heavy steps, he approached the two scouts, and a foreboding feeling began to rise in his chest. Something told him he would not like what he was about to hear. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Suddenly, he had vision. It was blurred and fuzzy vision, but still, it was vision. It was a slow process, but everything eventually became clear to him. Objects took their normal shape, and undecipherable blobs regained their corners and edges. The long hall he awoke in was tinted multiple shades of a bland white, and many empty cots lined the walls. The window at the end of the hall to his left clearly showed that it was still bright and early in the day. The excruciating pain in his head was the next thing he noticed, but not by choice. When he attempted to lift himself off the rock-hard mattress of his own, the headache raged in his cranium, and he found himself lifting a hoof to feel the back of his head. He was a bit surprised to find the bandaging wrapped around his head when he attempted to do so. "Welcome back, dear," a cheery voice spoke from his right side. "Take it slowly, now." A quick look to his right found the source of the voice. A peach pegasus mare, donned in a nurses outfit. Surprisingly enough, she was the only other one in the long hall besides himself. "What... where?" he stumbled to ask. "Don't worry, dear. You're in the infirmary. You took a nasty blow to the back of your head and fell unconscious," she stated as though it was an everyday occurrence. "Luckily for you, it turned out to be nothing too bad. No damage to the brain or broken skull we could see." "How did I—?" he tried to communicate, trying to find the words. He felt like he wanted to throw up instead. "I remember being in the market, and..." The nurse perked up at that. "Oh, well I was minding my own business in here when a couple of raving ponies dropped you off here saying you were struck by a crystal. I think they were also shouting something about some sort of monster?" she shrugged her wings. "I'm not sure what it is they're worried about, but the whole thing has me worried, too!" she didn't seem nearly as worried as she claimed, but he guessed she was putting up a front for him. "A monster?" He lifted a hoof back to the bandage, this time attempting to remove it. If he found a mirror, he might be able to see how bad the injury really was. Plus he found the wrapping seriously itchy. "You shouldn't mess with that bandaging, dear. It's there to cover the staples." He froze. "Staples. Oh." That was enough to deter him from further tampering with the cloth around his head. "S-so, now what should I do, miss...?" "Call me Nurse Poppy, Dear. And right now you don't have to do anything but lay there," she smiled. "But what should I call you? I didn't get much information from the two who dumped you here before they ran off." The injured stallion ran a hoof through his short, messy mane before answering. "My name is Shamrock," he returned. "Who exactly dropped me off here?" "Sorry, dear. I didn't get their names." "Oh well. Maybe I can ask around outside and see what happened." Shamrock moved to get off the cot he was lying on, but the pain in his head begged him to stay still, and he fell back against the pillow. "Well Mr. Shamrock, I can't recommend you go outside yet. Not just because of your condition, but with the way things are out there, I fear it might not be wise to go outside," the nurse stated with a wary glance out the window. "But in the meantime, I'd like to run a few tests on your senses and make absolutely sure everything in your head is still functioning properly," the nurse advised, reaching for a stack of papers on a nearby shelf. Shamrock also gazed outside the window, confirming what Nurse Poppy said to be true. No ponies were trotting on by or talking outside. In his daze, the entire situation just now started to dawn on him. Whatever was going on outside, his injury must've been connected. Reminded of the painful days when Sombra ruled, he felt so helpless. It was as though he had no choice in the matter. A quiet rage started to build within him as his head pounded. Shamrock hated feeling helpless. "Okay dear! Now I'm going to hold up these cards and you're going to read all the letters from left to right," Poppy debriefed, with cards held in her wing. "Shall we?" "Do I have a choice?" Shamrock scoffed. Poppy didn't seem to care about the snide remark, if she noticed it. "Well, sure you do. I just hope you make the smart decision!" The injured stallion gave an annoyed grunt. "Fine." Her smile stretched even wider, "Alright, dear. Cover your left eye with a hoof and begin with the top row of letters." Shamrock nickered and complied. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Shining wasn't convinced. "You must be joking." "We do not jest, sir," Coral reassured. Shining Armor looked them over in disbelief. "I send you two on a simple mission, and you come back telling me that not only did whatever-it-was snap it's hoofcuffs in two, but it defeated two trained soldiers in battle and is now roaming around the city!?" "We told you sir, we couldn't come in direct contact with him." "And exactly why is that, again?" Coral hesitated, unsure if the captain would believe them. "Any physical contact with creature swiftly exhausted all energy from us, sir. Not only that, but the creature seemed to actively negate all magic used on it. When I performed a magical examination, I detected no magical properties from it. I'm not certain, but I believe these variables are all related." Silence fell upon the three stallions. Neither of the two guards could tell what Shining was thinking by his unreadable blank expression. "That's impossible," Shining finally responded. "It's the truth, sir," Dusty argued. Shining Armor remained unconvinced. "But It goes against everything we know about magic 101! What you're explaining could rewrite some of our most basic understandings of magic! A living thing without a magical essence is like an ocean without water, or a Timberwolf without wood! It just doesn't work." His sister must've been rubbing off on him quite a bit for him to fly off the handle like this. Coral was at a loss for words. "I don't know what you want me to tell you, sir." Shining Armor deflated. He immediately felt guilty ranting at them both, remembering that a good leader kept a level head at all times. A look around showed that most if not all the guards on the field had long since stopped their exercises to listen in on the conversation. Some looked worried, or afraid. Others were harder to read. He took a deep breath. "Nothing to be done about it now. Where did you two last see the creature?" "We found it ransacking the western marketplaces, but it disappeared after our encounter," Dusty Ore filled the captain in. "Very well," Shining Armor said before he turned to the onlooking crowd of eavesdropping guards. "All pegasi! Front and center!" At his command, a line of the numerous winged ponies immediately stood in front of him at the ready. "I want you all to scour the Crystal Empire to search for this creature. It is bipedal, wearing clothes, and roughly has the shape of a minotaur! If any of you do happen to spot this thing, report back to me on the double. Do not engage! You all hear me?" A unanimous "Sir! Yes, sir!" was their answer before Shining sent them off. "Stone Rend!" he called out among the clump of guards. "Where are you?" "Right here, sir," a gruff voice said behind him. Shining would've jumped in surprise, were it not for the masculine image he needed to keep up. Keeping a cool appearance, he addressed the former captain. "You sure are discreet for a large stallion." "Thank you, sir." "Stone Rend, take however many guards you need, and warn the citizens of this danger. Tell them to stay in their homes and lock their doors for their own safety." "Yes, sir," he loyally saluted. Shining turned before remembering to add one last detail, "And Stone? Do your best not to alarm them. The last thing they need right now is to worry about a powerful entity." Stone gave a knowing nod. "Trust me, sir," He replied with a determined glower. "We are all well aware of what they're going through." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I'm sure I've said it before, but I'll say it again: this is the worst day of my life. "Welp. Now what do I fucking do?" My adrenaline had long since worn off after my fight with the guards, and after realizing I still had no plan, my confidence soon went along with it. I soon found myself slumped in an alleyway that looked suspiciously identical to the one I was moping in earlier today. I decided that laying low would be my best bet for a while. I crossed my arms in thought, wondering how long it would take until the ponies sent their ranks out for my blood again. I may not be very smart, but even I knew that scrap with the two privates was only the beginning. And I'll be honest, they weren't half bad soldiers. They managed to get a few good licks on me, if the marks on my body were anything to go off of. It was right then upon examining my body that I found I had no such marks. The bruise on my face that should've been swelling up and making half my face numb? Non-existent. The scrape on my arm from when I was tripped? Gone. I wouldn't have to deal with any of the injuries I suffered in the past hour or two, because they had all gone and healed. On one hand, I should've been happy about that, but on the other hand, what the fuck was happening to me? I inspected the rest of my body on instinct, trying to locate any old scab or wound so I could find out I was just going crazy. Upon lifting my shirt, I find nothing that would indicate I had ever been injured. Not even... "Oh, hell no," I mutter in shock. "Where's my scar!?" "Maybe it wasn't so bad," Brian tried to comfort. I scoffed at the suggestion. "You weren't there. The guy wanted me out of his office as soon as possible." Neil smirks as he lifts his drink to his mouth. "Can't say I blame him. You're pretty horrible." "Fuck you, too." I've had a pretty bad day. On top of waking up late for a job interview and nearly getting run over by a semi truck on the way there, I botched said interview so terribly that I'd rather not say how. Things only went downhill from there, and now I'm in the middle of explaining it to to Neil and Brian at our regular spot in the bar. Truth is, I didn't even expect to see them here tonight. I walked in here hoping to drown my sorrows, and there they both were, waving me over. "Pretty busy here tonight," I casually remarked, observing the crowded place. Brian nodded. "Eeyup. Can't remember the last time it was this busy." "Okay, so how exactly did you botch the interview? I doubt you're stupid enough to go in there unprepared," Neil asks, genuinely curious. I sigh heavily before answering. "No, it wasn't because I was unprepared. See, it all started when the guy's wife—" Our conversation was cut short as a loud crashing of chairs gains the attention of everybody in the bar. Us included. All eyes are on the three men in a face-off. Two of the men are both glaring daggers at the scruffy-looking guy. Their chairs were toppled on the floor, obviously the result of them both standing up in anger. The man with an admittedly impressive goatee put his hands up, obviously in an attempt to cool things down. "Hey, hey, let's all just settle down now." "Not this time, Greene!" one of the other two guys bark. Assuming these dudes had their fair share of alcohol, I knew where this was going. I had seen it all too many times during my time as a bouncer. It wouldn't be long before the fists started flying. Speaking of bouncers, does this place even have one? And if so, where was he? It was about time for him to come break it up or throw these guys out. I must have blinked, because before I knew it, the two goons were on the goatee guy, (Greene, I think was his name.) intent on beating him to a pulp. The bartender is yelling something at them all, probably trying to tell them to scram. The lone, bearded fighter was putting up a decent fight in defense, but it was a hopeless situation for him. One of the two brutes was holding Greene in place while the other wailed on him. Cowards. If you can't fight by yourself then don't fight at all, I say. Among the panicked cries of the crowd, I decided I had seen enough. If nobody was going to put a stop to this, it would get out of hand, and I didn't see anybody stepping up. Those two guys needed to go. I took off my hat and placed it on our table before I leaned in closer to Brian and Neil so they could hear me over the noise, "Have I ever told you guys I used to work as a bouncer?" They only have time to gawk at me for half a second and blurt out "You're not seriously going to—" before I'm out of my seat and stepping towards the ongoing fight. I can feel the eyes of the customers on me as I lumber towards the spat. I guess it is pretty hard to miss someone of my size. Unfortunately, this means that the jerk holding "Greene" spots me approaching and warns his partner. Dang, and I was hoping to catch at least one of them off guard. Oh well. "Fuck off! This isn't your business!" One of them tries to intimidate me by advancing slightly. Time to work my magic. "Either you and your friend leave now, or I make you both leave with headaches." "Fuck you!" he says, throwing a punch at me. There are a million ways I could turn this punch around on the guy, but just for kicks I decide to go full on intimidating. I let his fist connect with my jaw. I don't make any grunts of pain or anything, even though it did sting a bit. Sluggishly, I turn my head back around to blankly stare back at the guy who felt brave just mere moments ago. Oh yeah, he looked afraid now. I flex my hand before clenching it into a fist, and with all the power I can muster, I fire my arm at him. As soon as my lightning-fast punch hits, he falls to the floor and writhes in pain. He was being over dramatic, I didn't even hit him as hard as I could've. That just left the other guy still holding onto his struggling victim. He doesn't seem phased by my show of strength as he throws his hostage to the side. He just looked really pissed that I took out his butt-buddy. In his drunken stupor, he charges and wildly swings his arm towards me. I easily caught it without a second thought and held onto it. While he attempted to get his right arm back, I headbutted him. I swear I heard Brian let out a cheer as I did so, as if he was getting a kick out of this. I love Brian and all, but I swear that guy's a little off his rocker. Well, that took care of them. Both of them are on the ground and it doesn't look like they're getting up anytime soon. All that was left to do was make sure "Greene" was alright, and throw these jokers out of here. The whole room is silent as I walk over to the victim, who is getting up by himself already. I offer him a hand, and he accepts it with a ghost of a smile. "Are you alright?" I ask him. Greene cracks his neck. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright. I didn't even feel it." "Well, that's good to he—" "Watch out!" He suddenly blurts, pointing behind me. My eyes follow his finger just in time to see one of the brutes had got back up, and was now lunging at me with a switchblade in his hand. I hear a few screams right before he thrusts it at my gut, intent on turning me into a shish-kebab. I try to dodge out of his way, but it's not enough for the blade to miss entirely. A lash of pain shoots through my body as the knife slashes across my left side, cutting deeper than I would like. Over my own grunt of pain, I hear a few more cries of fear and my name being shouted. Probably Neil or Brian. Okay, here's the thing: Getting slashed by a knife hurts a lot more than I let on. Especially when the side of your torso is the area affected. You can hardly make any movements without experiencing sharp pain, or possibly making the injury worse. So I'm not in the best position here, anymore. Shit, I should've payed more attention. Idiot! I berate myself. The switchblade guy wastes no time, and intends to push his advantage while one of arms is wrapped around my side to cover the bleeding. I can't let this happen. Have to disarm him! To the brute's surprise, (and mine) Greene had managed to sneak around behind him, giving the goatee stranger the perfect chance to smash an empty bottle on the back of my attacker's head before either of us can do anything. That gets a few more screams out of the audience, and the bogey goes down for good this time. It all happened so fast. "This is what I get for wanting to handle things maturely," he frowns before looking towards the audience. "Someone call the police," he says before examining me in my state. "...And maybe an ambulance, too." Hustled, nervous chatter seems to return throughout the room and my two friends rush to me and start talking my ear off in concern. I shake my head. "It's nothing, I'm fine. I'm okay!" Brian chimes in as he moves next to me. "Like hell you are! You lose too much blood, you're going down. Doesn't matter how big you are." How did he know that? "It's not bleeding that much," I lied. In reality, I didn't know how bad it was, since I was too afraid to move my arm from the wound. But if the mere action of turning my torso slightly to the left gives a good lash of pain, then I should probably keep pressure there Neil pops out of nowhere and gives his two cents as well, "Andy, it's like something out of a horror movie. There's blood soaking through your clothes, for god's sake. That's cool to see and all, but not on you." Aw fuck, it was. Never mind the fact that there's definitely a gaping slit in the side of it from the knife, but the surrounding area of clothing was painted red. I really liked this shirt, too. Brian grabbed a white rag when I wasn't looking, and hands it to me. "Keep pressure on the wound. We don't need ya bleeding out." Bleeding out? The cut wasn't that bad. Regardless, I grab the rag, and quickly press it against my injury. Damn it hurts, and I'm sure everybody knows it from the hiss of pain I give. "Don't do that again, you fucking dipshit. You nearly got yourself killed," Neil politely reminded me. "You really do care," I half-joked. "Besides, I could've taken him." Greene doesn't interrupt our conversation, which really could be called "Neil and Brian scolding me for nearly getting gutted like a fish." I kept telling them that I knew what I was doing, but they both remained unconvinced. The two dumbasses that started the fight had been dragged off somewhere else, hopefully to be restrained with rope or something in case they woke up before the cops get here. The once full bar now only held a fraction of the customers. I guess a barroom brawl can really kill the mood. Neil and Brian somehow get wrapped up in their own little conversation, keeping within arm length of me. After being silent for so long, Greene inches over to me and quietly speaks up, "Hey." "Hey," I parrot. With an unreadable expression, he continues, "Thanks for the save. I... I'm sorry this happened to you." "Not your fault. You were trying to calm them down, I saw. What was all that about, anyways?" Greene avoids eye contact, shuffling around nervously. "They were... old acquaintances of mine. I wronged them both, and I waited too long to try to make things right." He pauses for a moment before subtly adding "I didn't want it to happen like this..." It was a vague story, but that was all I needed to hear about it. He obviously didn't want to talk about it much either, so I wouldn't press him. "By the way," I get his attention. "Thanks for saving me, too." He cracks a smile at that. "Oh, it was nothin'. The least I could do." I let out a sigh. "I almost lost a fight. And more with it. I can't remember the last time my enemy got the upper hand on me." I run my free hand over my head, feeling the short bristles of my hair. "I feel ashamed." "Hey, it could've gone a lot worse, right?" "Yeah, it could have," I spit. "But it I shouldn't let it get that bad in the first place. I should've been able to handle them both easily, but... I just—" "Hey, hey, come on now," He cuts me off. "I was there to cover you, and everything turned out for the better, so what's the point in moping about it?" "Well... I mean..." "Why don't you lighten up a bit? The stress can't be good for your cut down there," he smirks. Well. Maybe you don't always have to fight alone. I could hear the faint sound of sirens coming closer, and seeing as how everybody is turning their heads towards the noise, I'm not the only one who notices. The police were finally here, and not a moment too soon. I'm was starting to feel a little lightheaded. "By the way, I never caught your name," Greene insists before I can do anything else. "I'm Andrew. And if I remember correctly, you're "Greene", right?" I grin at him. "Trevor is my first name," he corrects. "I'd prefer you called me that." It was unbelievable, really. Every bruise, scratch or scar I've ever had had disappeared or faded away. Even the bad-ass scar I got when I met Trevor. You might find it strange, but I was pretty miffed about that. That scar was like a trophy to me; the day I saved Trevor from an ass-whooping, and he did the same in return. But now it was just gone, and it just felt wrong to me. "What the fuck is happening!?" I screamed, only to remember I was trying to lay low. "This place is giving me some super powers or some bullshit and it's freaking me right the fuck out! "I'm not supposed to just heal every cut and wound instantly using magical Disney powers of imagination. I'm not supposed to be on a world of talking alien horses. I'm not supposed to be here!" I kick the nearest object, and the poor metal bucket sails high in the sky with a new dent in it's side. I watch as the pail eventually falls from it's remarkable height, bounces off one of the rooftops and lands with a loud clang nearby. Closer inspection of the area the bucket landed in revealed something I hadn't noticed before; A cellar door, covered in grime and dust. I'd somehow completely overlooked it in the past. I shamble on over to the wooden doors in the ground to get a better look. One of the handles was missing, and a keyhole was underneath the one handle that remained. One attempt to open it tells me that the doors were indeed locked. I give a quiet grunt. "Oh well. Wasn't like I needed to get in there anyways," I say, walking away to see what's happening outside my hiding spot. No matter where I looked, I didn't see any ponies walking around. I had at least expected some more of those guards to be looking for me right now. I highly doubted they would just forget about my little run-in with Tweedledee and Tweedledouche. Once again, I hear the gibberish language, but not where I expect it to be. A glance in the air tells me everything I need to know. "No. Fucking. Way." They had wings. The guard ponies had wings, and they were flying around calling to each other. And damn, there was a lot of them. There had to be at least ten of the fuckers flying around, and those were just the ones in sight! "What the fuck is with this place? Next thing I know there's gonna be ponies that can burst into flames at will, or shoot lasers out of their eyes!" I say a little louder than I should've. I cover my mouth immediately with one hand, hoping I wasn't heard. But I can hear all the nearby pegasi rattling on in response. Probably saying things like 'What was that noise? Go find out!' I was gonna be caught if I didn't get out of there, and I don't think I could fight my way through a gang of foes I couldn't even reach. I had to retreat for now, but if I left my cover between these two gem houses, I'd be spotted immediately. What could I do? Logically, my attention turned towards the cellar door again. But a quick tug at the one handle reminded me that I needed a key. The voices of the ponies were getting closer. In desperation, I ready one of my legs. "I'll give you a key..." I remark at the cellar. One good stomp, and the doors burst open inwards. One of them even flies off it's hinges. Thanks super powers, I guess. There's no way the guards didn't hear me break it open, though. And if they're smarter than a fifth grader they'll put two and two together and know something went in here. I don't know what I'm expecting to find in here, a weapon, a good spot to hide in, anything. just need something I can use to my advantage. I hope it doesn't come to violence right now, but... I don't think there's gonna be any cooperation from either side right now. It's best if I just continue to lay low. More gibberish language in the distance is all the convincing I need. Hopefully my phone wasn't dead, because I'd be needing the light. I clamber on down into the hole, thankful I can fit through the damned thing. Wouldn't want to get stuck trying to escape from the aliens. That would just be embarrassing. With the pace I'm fleeing at, I reach the floor in no time, though it's nothing to sneeze at. The entrance must be at least 20 feet above me. I waste no time turning on my phone flashlight to see in the darkness, and I'm shocked by what I see. This wasn't some sort of wine cellar or anything like that. It was a giant tunnel, carved out inside the earth. The path extended both to my right and left, and the pitch blackness in either direction told me that there was no end in sight. Suddenly I grew weary about this plan, but I hear the chatter of the ponies up top, and that's all the motivation I need to get the heck out of dodge. I turned to my right, and hustled into the darkness.