After so much time had been spent fighting massive insects, saving diamond dogs from terrible storms, fighting dragons, and struggling to solve murder mysteries, Twilight Sparkle was surprised at the sheer normalcy of the day.
No, not even normalcy; an Equestrian day would have been more akin to the perils that she and her friends had encountered. If anything, the day was more abnormal than anything else. It had even gotten to the point where she’d started waiting at the door for the inevitable letter from Celestia, Luna, or some other important figure. Hay, even the case with Princess Luna had been temporarily put on hold due to a lack of evidence.
But still, even with all the joy and peace, Twilight couldn’t help but feel some sort of chill down her spine, as if something wicked was waiting behind the corner. The calm before the storm, so to speak.
Her hooves clacked against the dirt and stone path, and she held her head high. Twilight looked about the buildings – all of them looking strangely generic, she thought, compared to her and her friends’ abodes – with slow trepidation. If there were some sort of assassin or something running free, then it would do her no good to be unprepared. Anypony else may have called her paranoid, or said that she worried too much. But after the last week, Twilight knew that letting her guard down for even an instant would fatal.
Okay, maybe she was taking this a bit too seriously.
But even with all that had happened, Twilight could not deny the calmness of the day. Maybe, after all that had happened – and what was surely to come – a period of silence was just what she and her friends needed:
A chance to rejuvenate themselves before the winds of the storm inevitably blew through once more.
And if nothing else, she thought with a small smirk, it would give her a chance to finally get some research done without any interruptions. First, though, she had to find Gilgamesh…
-- An Epic for Gilgamesh --
-- Episode 9: A Chance to Breathe --
-- Written By ZaleAcon --
It was a quiet day. The sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds, but there was not a singular droplet of rain to be seen.
Gilgamesh stood outside his little house, simply staring up at the sky. How long had it been? One week? No, it had been even longer than that. The sheer fact that he had lost track of time absolutely stunned him.
Back then, that week ago, he looked upon the world around him as if it were entirely alien – which, to be fair, it was. But now he saw it as normal. That strange sort of peacefulness, save the obvious discrepancies, the friendly natives… Ah, if only he had a way to consistently fight! If only there was an actual way he could draw his sword and challenge someone to a duel, rather than something. Even playing the piano did little to aid his itching hands and the absence of that sense of power he held.
But those monstrosities, the events of that wretched storm, and even the attempt on poor Fluttershy’s life had been enough for the past several days, but the blandness of yesterday’s proceedings had made his blood burn even hotter than before.
Actually, now that he thought about it, why not go and see his newfound friends? His daily schedule had been reduced to a time of sheer boredom, so it would do him some good to meet with the others once more. After all, what else was there to do? Even his interest in the piano was starting to wane, and that was far from what he wanted. He needed something to fill that empty void at night.
Void… Why did that send such a shiver down his spine, even now? Certainly Bartz and the others had succeeded in their goal to stop Exdeath, no? Defeated him, avenged Galuf, and saved the world? Yes, of course. There was no point in denying it, after all.
But even the mere thought of Bartz’s name caused a small lump to rise in Gilgamesh’s throat. “One day,” he said to himself. “One day, I’ll return.”
Until that day, he would just have to contend with his fifteen hundred tangents and at least try to get something done. But when that day came, surely he would be able to stand face-to-face with his eternal rival. Yet who knew how far away that day was?
But one day he would. There was not even the smallest amount of doubt in Gilgamesh’s mind that he could return to his world. If he could be sent away from his own world to Equestria – or the planet that encompassed it, perhaps? He would have to ask Twilight about that one – then surely he could travel the other way. Yes, he knew he could. Again, there was no doubt in his mind. And then he would be able to fight to his heart’s content.
Gilgamesh blinked and pulled himself out of his trance, only to realize that he was standing in the middle of the town square. He blinked again and placed a hand on his forehead.
How had he even gotten there so quickly? It wasn’t as if he had been off on a tangent for too long, right? Oh well, it hardly mattered; he’d planned on travelling there anyway, so any way to ease the length of the journey hardly caused him any inconvenience. If anything, it did the exact opposite.
The townsfolk walked around him as if they were used to his presence. Gilgamesh smirked a bit at the thought. By that point, he was less of an outsider and more an actual person living in this place. Even if he was completely different from everyone – he absolutely refused to say “everypony,” even now – that hardly made any difference.
Now that he thought about it, the sheer amount of sentient creatures in this world far outweighed those in his own. Equines, griffons, certain breeds of canines, dragons, and what looked to be far more than just those were all present, and all had the capacity for a large amount of intelligence. Why, compared to the idiotic beasts in Exdeath’s employ, this world was a metaphorical goldmine of intellect.
The weirdest part about these beings, though, was that they seemed to live together in harmony so well. At least, judging by the information that he’d gathered on his own time. He had yet to see this in practice, but the mere thought that so many creatures lived with one another without constant wars or other types of fighting was absolutely astounding. Then again, they weren’t so different, save their appearances.
“Uh, Gilagmesh?”
Gilgamesh blinked again as he felt something press up against his leg. He suddenly came to, and glanced about him for the creature that was so intent on interrupting his all-important tangent.
He looked down, only to make eye contact with a certain lavender winged unicorn with a mane that happened to be filled with multiple colors that did not make logical sense seeing as–
Okay, it was Twilight Sparkle.
“You’ve been standing out here for the last fifteen minutes,” Twilight said. “And your eyes have been glassy the whole time.” Gilgamesh could have sworn that she’d muttered something like “Encrypted Glass” under her breath, but he could not quite catch it. “Anyway,” she continued, “are you alright?”
“Why yes, of course I am! I have never been more alright than I am in this exact moment in time!” He suddenly calmed himself down. “Yes, I was just… thinking.”
“Well, there’ve got to be better places to do it than out here in the middle of the town.” Twilight chuckled. “Oh, yeah! That reminds me, I wanted to ask you some things.” She paused. “Hang on – let’s go sit down first. Oh, I know! Why not Sugarcube Corner? I’m sure you’d like it there.”
“Sugarcube Corner? Oh, right.” Gilgamesh nodded, the memories flooding back to him. “That bakery.” He was quiet for several seconds longer. “So you want to go eat there, or…?”
“Yes!” Twilight paused. “Wait, I mean, no! I mean, I do want to get something to eat there, but that’s not the only reason I want to go there.” She stopped for a second and cleared her throat. “First, I want to ask you some questions, like I said. Plus it’s been a long week; I need to get some energy back.”
“A fair point,” Gilgamesh said. “But what do you wish to ask me about? You’ve already bled me dry about Exdeath, and Bartz, and everything…”
“Well, yes, but there’s just so much that I want to know!” Twilight pointed her hoof over to one of the many paths out of the town’s plaza. “But first, why don’t we get going? This cold weather’s starting to get annoying…”
Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. The weather was not that cold, and he wasn’t even wearing anything over his chest.
Wait, it must have been his blood. Yes, the blood of the warrior, boiling in his chest, was keeping him from freezing out in the midst of the no doubt icy gale! But without the gale.
“Yes,” he said, in an effort to protect his tiny and feeble friend, “I’m sure that Sugarcube – ulp – Corner is quite… quite warm.” He had to fight to keep the bile from rising in his throat at the mere mention of the literally-sugar-coated name of the place.
Was there nothing in this world that was not intent on sapping away his warrior’s spirit? Or blood? No wonder Twilight was so cold, even when her body was covered in a layer of fur. Or was it hair? He couldn’t tell on appearance alone, and instead opted to–
“Uh… Gilgamesh? Are you feeling alright?” Twilight asked, snapping him out of his trance.
He blinked and pressed a hand to the side of his head. “Oh, yes, of course. Just doing a bit of thinking.” Before she could reply, he stood straight up. “Yes! Let us journey to this place of – erp – sugars and cubes, and… ugh. Let’s just go.”
Twilight stared at him for several seconds, a look of disbelief in her eyes, before she turned and trotted off in the direction of The Place With the Disgustingly-Cute Name. That should have been its title. No, from now on, Gilgamesh would call it that. Or something akin to it, at least.
As he walked behind Twilight, Gilgamesh could not help but admire the town around him. Every town in his world had been so small, only consisting of maybe eight or nine houses at most, and maybe thirty or forty people. But Ponyville was like a city, or a metropolis, and he had heard rumors of even bigger areas. How the creatures did not get lost in their own homes was a mystery to him, but not one that he longed to pursue.
Gilgamesh snapped himself back to reality, pulling himself out of his latest tangent. “So,” he said, in an effort at small talk, “wonderful weather.”
“Huh?” Twilight glanced back. “Oh, uh… yeah, I guess.”
“It’s strange.” Gilgamesh rolled the area where his right shoulders intersected, feeling the satisfying pop of his bones. “Ah… No matter where I go, there always seems to be the same sky.”
“Your world’s sky looks like this?”
“In a way. I guess all skies look the same. Sunlight, and all that.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you’re so knowledgeable about that sort of thing.”
“Eh, I find it to be interesting.” Gilgamesh rolled out his left shoulders. “I read about it once.”
“’Once’?”
“Maybe twice,” Gilgamesh quickly amended, before changing the subject. “Ahem… But I find it so strange that you – er, pegasuses – can control the weather.”
Twilight stepped back so that she was walking alongside him. “Pegasi, Gilgamesh. It’s pegasi.” She paused. “And why’s that such a surprise to you?”
Gilgamesh shrugged, his shoulders popping again under the minimal strain. “Well, it’s not so much ‘strange’ as it is… well, different. N-not ‘bad’ different, really, I mean, but…”
“I think I understand,” Twilight said. “Not about the ‘changing the weather’ thing, but the ‘different’ thing. Life’s a lot different when you see it from somewhere else.”
“I’ll say so.”
The two stepped forward in silence for several minutes, Gilgamesh unable to make any interesting conversation as he and Twilight solemnly marched on Sugarland or whatever. He wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about the name, but at least he would not be poked and prodded by Pinkie Pie again, now that he knew her better. Maybe.
They continued walking past the houses, and Gilgamesh found himself staring over the architecture with accrued interest. Buildings of stone, clay, brick, and wood of various colors gazed back at him, each looking fairly mundane… at least when compared to Twilight’s library house, the giant carousel-shaped clothing store, Candy Land, and whatever else there was of interest.
But the more he looked at it, the more questions arose in his mind: how had they built their houses without hands? Obviously, the unicorns could have telekinetically moved the stones and other products into place, but what of the other species? Diamond dogs could have helped, but the prejudice against them would clearly go against such important matters, and-
Wait, why was he focusing on such unimportant matters as the scenery or backdrop? Was it not the action that mattered? Maybe, but he could not say.
He blinked just once, and a sudden realization struck him. “Wait, how could any of them survive without hands… in a society that essentially demands hands?!” Even if the unicorns could magic everything into place, the pegasi and earth ponies still would be forced to use their mouths or bend their hooves into awkward shapes in order to perform basic activities. Even lifting a spoon, fork, or knife would require the deftest of movements in order to avoid dropping it. Perhaps they just stuck their faces into their food instead, but that only raised more questions.
Gilgamesh suddenly noticed that Twilight was staring directly at him, and remembered his outburst.
“Gilgamesh, are you, uh… are you done?”
“Yes, I… Um, yes.” Gilgamesh rubbed the back of his neck, his face suddenly feeling bright red.
Twilight nodded, though it was obvious that she was feeling uneasy. “Er… okay then. We’re here.” She gestured up with her hoof, and Gilgamesh saw the sign of Calorie World – a large image of a cupcake on a sign, which perfectly matched the building’s appearance and presumed policy of “will give literally anyone diabetes.” “We’ve actually been standing outside here for the last minute or so…”
“Oh, I-I see.” Gilgamesh made a new mental note to actually attempt to focus on what was going on around him. It was like he was a child in a candy store. No pun intended. “Well, let us go inside, shall we?”
Twilight stared at him for several seconds before letting out a sigh, and mumbled something beneath her breath. Without another word, she ascended the two flights of stairs that led up to the door of the cupcake-laden monstrosity.
Even on the first day, Gilgamesh had not been paying much attention to the décor of the land, but now he could see that everyone seemed to have a strange desire to cover their homes in whatever suited them personally. At least, Twilight and their friends did. He wasn’t so sure about everyone else, whose homes seemed almost generic in comparison to the villages from his world.
He walked up the stairs, feeling them creak slightly beneath his feet, and walked through the door that Twilight had so graciously opened. What awaited him was exactly as he remembered it from his first day: a floor paneled with wood, a large, circular, and yellowish rug that covered much of said floor, and that counter where dozens upon dozens of sugar-laced foods sat, waiting to be consumed.
Twilight turned to look at him. “So where do you want to sit?”
Gilgamesh placed a hand on his chin, and briefly pondered the question. Was this some sort of test? Clearly, he needed to ensure that both of them were satisfied with their seating conditions, but where would be an adequate location.
He scanned the store, narrowing his eyes as he looked about the various tables. So many options, and each of them looked viable for every occasion. The one close to the counter would lessen their time spent waiting for the food, but the table by the windows provided quite a nice view… or would he simply go halfway, and choose the table that would provide a medium amount of waiting time while still giving a decent view outside? But then there were the tables in between the center and the two sides.
There were so many options, but which was the right choice? They were all viable choices, but which one would provide the best ratio of food-to-visuals? Or maybe the best option would be to–
Again, he was vaguely aware of a hoof being waved in front of his face, and he blinked as he snapped out of that extremely concentrated state.
Gilgamesh stared in front of him, seeing Twilight’s blank expression before he noticed anything else.
“You know what? Never mind.” Twilight let out a sigh and tapped the top of a table directly next to him. “C’mon. Let’s sit here.”
Ah, so it was the halfway-to-the-halfway-point table that Twilight had wanted! If only he had suggested it sooner.
Gilgamesh obliged, pulling the tiny chair out from under the table before he sat down upon it. He was pleasantly surprised when it did not collapse underneath his weight, and even more so when his legs managed to fit underneath the table. He pulled himself in and rested his four left arms on the tabletop by their palms.
Several seconds of awkward silence passed before Twilight cleared her throat. “Um, so… I have something I wanted to ask you about.”
Gilgamesh nodded. At the very least, he figured that it would help him make up for his wretched table-based blunder. “Very well. What are you so curious about that you would bring me all the way over here to Candy Land?”
“Sugarcube Corner.”
“I know what I said.”
Twilight placed her forelegs on the table and nodded. “Ahem, anyway… So you know how you told me all that stuff about your world the other day? Back when Vinyl and Octavia showed up and dema- asked you to play at the Nightmare Night celebration?”
“Hmm… Yeah, I remember something along those lines,” Gilgamesh said. “You asked me about my world, I explained why the magic of where I come from is amazingly powerful… Oh, and I told you about Bartz and Exdeath, right? Yes, I think so.”
Twilight nodded, her face suddenly becoming a grimace. “Oh, yeah. It wasn’t very descriptive. At all.”
“Is that what you wanted to ask me about?” Gilgamesh was tempted to lean back in his seat, but a small voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise.
“Something along those lines. So I–”
“Excuse me?” said a new voice, and Gilgamesh turned to see the stallion from the first day – still orange, still tall, and still looking much different from the others – standing just behind him. “Can I interest you two in anything?”
Twilight blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh… I’ll just take a cupcake, if you don’t mind. Chocolate, white icing, and… uh… no sprinkles, please.”
“And I,” Gilgamesh said, “will take a cupcake as well. Um… same as hers, if you don’t mind.”
The stallion nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll have it out to you in five minutes or so.” He turned and walked away toward the cash register.
Twilight cleared her throat. “So, as I was saying, I wanted to ask you some questions about your world – specifically, I wanted to ask you about those things that attacked Equestria this past week.”
“I can’t promise you that I’ve got all of the answers, but I’ll certainly try.” Gilgamesh nodded. “Alright, ask away.”
“You’re not going to pass out again, right?” Twilight asked. “Because some of these questions might–”
“No, Twilight, I will do no such thing!” Gilgamesh declared. “As I said, ask away, and I shall do my best to answer from there.”
“Okay, then… First, what do you know about dimensional barriers?”
Gilgamesh paused and lifted one of his left hands to his chin. “Not much,” he said. “I know enough to help you in some questions, but I can’t say I’m an expert on the subject.”
Twilight raised a hoof. “That’s fine. That’s perfect, actually. I-I just have a few questions regarding your world. But we might be here awhile, so…”
“Not one problem. It’s not as if I planned on doing anything today, anyway. And anything is better than the drag that yesterday had become.” Gilgamesh grimaced at the memories of absolute boredom, sitting around in his tiny box of a room for hours by himself.
“A drag?” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Well, I wish I could say the same…”
“Why?” Gilgamesh sat straight up. “Did… did something happen?”
Twilight blanched. “O-oh, no! No, nothing really happened yesterday for me, either. Or at least, nothing that’s really important. Anyway, as I was saying… can you tell me about those creatures that came over to this world?”
“I believe so, at least with the insect.” He rolled out his shoulder again, but without causing it to pop. “I can’t say exactly where I saw it, but I know that I’ve at least viewed images of it somewhere. Or perhaps Exdeath told me about it? Well, I’m not entirely sure. I’m sorry.”
“No, no! It’s fine. But have you ever seen that dragon?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve never even heard of a creature as foul as that in my life. Well, save Exdeath, but that’s a given.” The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk. “But no, I’ve never seen anything like that beast before, but the way it split open…”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out, too.” She placed her forelegs on the table, and drew in a deep breath. “I’m not sure if this is correct, but I have a feeling that whatever monsters those were are to be made from kind of paper.”
“Paper?” Gilgamesh leaned forward, intrigued by this new line of thought. “But how could anything so large be made from something like that?”
Twilight breathed in again, and said, “I’m not sure, but both the carapace of that big insect and the dragon’s hide were made from the exact same fibers, and those same fibers were found in paper. It’s a really weird theory – especially since those things were able to withstand so much pain, and especially because of that dragon’s ability to breathe fire – but it’s the only one that makes sense.”
“But monsters made out of paper?” Gilgamesh said, cocking his head to the side. “No offense, but it sounds a bit… silly, to say the least. Paper is easy to cut, and a monster made from it would be impractical, not to mention anatomically impossible! Where would its organs go?”
“That’s the other thing.” Twilight turned her gaze to the counter. “Those monsters were acting feral – maybe even suicidal at times. Almost as though they were completely berserk.”
“Mindless killing machines,” Gilgamesh murmured.
Twilight nodded. “Exactly. But they even had the same eyes: empty, emotionless… and then they randomly turned green.”
“So you think that some creature – from my world, most likely – sent those beasts here?”
“It’s a bit of a stretch, but… yeah, I think it’s pretty plausible.”
The two sat in that sort of awkward silence for what must have been a minute, just trying to comprehend the likelihood of such an event. Sending monsters would not have been too difficult, if the caster knew where he was – or even if it was just an accident, like his own banishment. But who would send such beasts? Exdeath seemed to be the most probable choice, but Gilgamesh was sure that Bartz, Lenna, Faris, and Krile had ended him long before either beast had arrived in Equestria.
But did they really? Could Exdeath have perhaps survived the encounter?
Could Exdeath have won?
Gilgamesh shut those thoughts away. No, such a thing was impossible. If Bartz’s group could best him in combat, then they could easily slay Exdeath. There was no point in letting any sort of doubt form.
Right?
Before Gilgamesh could mull over his thoughts any further, the voice of the stallion behind the register permeated his eardrums. “Here’s your order,” he said, followed by a small tray landing on the table.
On that tray were the two, sugar-filled, sugar-coated, probably-not-good-for-one’s-health foods. The two cupcakes were a dark brown, with spirals on top forming the icing.
Twilight looked up to the shopkeeper and pulled some of those strange coins from a little bag. “Ah… I think this should cover it?”
The shopkeeper took the coins, looked them over, and nodded. “Yep! It’s all here, alright.” He turned to Gilgamesh. “And you, sir, that’s… ah…” He placed a hoof on his chin. “Oh, sorry. Never mind.”
Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. “’Never mind’?”
“Yes, you paid for it the last time you were here, if I remember correctly. I don’t know what those coins of yours were, but, uh…” The shopkeeper rubbed his left foreleg with his right. “We had ‘em appraised, and got more than enough money to purchase… well… let’s just say they’re worth a lot of bits.” He grinned. “So from now on, you get to eat here for free.”
“What.” It wasn’t so much a question as just a flat, empty statement from Gilgamesh. His jaw dropped at the bold proclamation. “And just… how long does that last?”
“Until you can eat three-hundred cupcakes.” Without giving him a chance to react to that statement, the shopkeeper turned and walked away, leaving Gilgamesh with his mouth hanging open.
“Th-that was eight-hundred gil! Eight-hundred!” He held up his arms as if to accentuate the point. At Twilight’s confused expression, he added, “In my world, that sort of money is pocket change, but here…” He placed a hand on his chin. “I just… I can’t believe they’re worth so much…!”
“Is that… really such a surprise?” Twilight asked.
“I suppose it shouldn’t be,” Gilgamesh admitted. “Each coin’s made from gold, after all.”
Twilight’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Gold? Why would you make a currency out of gold?”
Gilgamesh shrugged. “What else is there to use it for?” He tapped the sword at his side. “Gold weaponry looks nice, yes, but it’s functionally useless! And gold armor’s the same, despite what some shopkeepers may tell you. So we may as well get some use for it, right?”
“I guess,” Twilight said, “but a currency made from solid gold also sounds really bad for the economy.” She began to prod at the table aimlessly. “I don’t know about your world, but it’s a pretty rare ore here in Equestria.”
“And what do you use it for?” Gilgamesh asked, genuinely curious. Of course, given what he’d seen at Rarity’s boutique, he already had some semblance of an idea what the answer was.
Twilight shrugged. “Well… jewelry, mostly. But we also use it in furniture, clothing, and other ways of decoration.” She shrugged again. “Like you said, it’s pretty useless, so we have to make do with what we can get.”
“Exactly!” Gilgamesh said. “I swear, though, the amount of traders selling ‘gold armor’ as something that is actually defensive is downright staggering.” His face contorted in disgust.
Twilight shook her head. “Well, I guess it’s good to know Equestria’s not the only place suffering from conmen,” she muttered.
“Doesn’t everywhere?” Gilgamesh asked.
“I’d be surprised if there weren’t…”
“So,” Gilgamesh said, changing the subject, “is there anything else you wanted to ask me about?”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah, I’ve actually been wondering about something for a while, ever since you told me about your world’s ‘better magic,’” she said, careful to make the hoof-quotes, “last week.”
Gilgamesh winced. “Er… yes, that may have been somewhat preemptive…”
“Only somewhat,” Twilight deadpanned. “Anyway! As I was saying, I wanted to ask you about that.” She glanced up from her cupcake. “You said that there were ‘multiple kinds of magic,’ right? Or something along those lines?”
“Yes… I think so,” Gilgamesh said.
“Well what are they?”
Gilgamesh took a deep breath. “We have, if I remember correctly, six types of magic in the world I come from. Whereas here, everything is labeled as just ‘magic,’ the different types in my world are each their own unique section, and are classified as such. First, there is black magic, or ‘attack magic.’” He paused. “You can probably guess that one’s function based on the name alone. The spells in it are your basic fighting spells – fire, ice, and lightning – and some others that can work to cripple your foes, such as poisoning them and sending them to sleep.”
Twilight nodded. “So I’m guessing that it’s more of a war-like mage, right?”
“In a way,” Gilgamesh said, “but a lot of adventurers teach themselves black magic, especially since there are a lot of enemies that can’t be harmed by physical attacks – or, at least, are hard to hit from close range.”
“Alright, I think I understand…”
“The second, and one of the most important to some people, is white magic. It’s basically the opposite of black magic in every way.”
“Let me guess,” Twilight said. “It focuses on healing, rather than attacking?”
Gilgamesh nodded. “Exactly. White magic is all about protecting allies, buffing their defenses, and getting rid of the damage dealt by enemies. It’s pretty self-explanatory, really.”
“It sounds like a lot of doctors would be white mages,” Twilight mused.
“Actually, yes. White magic’s extremely popular, since it can heal most injuries pretty easily and without any need for medication.” Gilgamesh rubbed the side of his head. “Of course, it can’t do anything about illnesses, but it makes up for that by having some minor status-inflicting spells of its own, like confusion magic and magic that sends fighters into a berserk frenzy.”
Twilight nodded. “Yeah… I think I can see how magic like that would be useful… Okay, what’s next?”
Gilgamesh rolled out his shoulder again. “After black and white magic comes red magic. It’s… red magic is basically just a simple combination of both.”
“That actually sounds really useful. Why do creatures from your world specialize when they could just learn that?”
“Because red magic, like I said, is just a simple combination of the two,” Gilgamesh replied. “Yeah, it gives access to both black and white magic, but it is severely limited when it’s compared to them. It’s good at first, but it can’t catch up after enough time’s passed. Overall, it’s pretty average.” He paused. “You know, it feels as though I’m just rattling off statistics…”
“Well, I’m fine with statistics,” Twilight said. “Just give me all the information you can.”
“Alright, then… did you get all that?” Gilgamesh asked. That cupcake was taunting him, he swore…
Twilight blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. What’s the next type of magic, then?”
“After red, black, and white… there’s blue magic.” Gilgamesh leaned back in his seat. “Blue magic is definitely the odd one out, even among all six types. Well… seven, if you count sword magic, but…” He trailed off at the end and shook his head. “Er… never mind.”
“So what’s so weird about blue magic?” Twilight asked.
“Blue magic isn’t something that a mage can learn through training, or even by purchasing magic books.” Gilgamesh began to roll out his other shoulder, but the bones still did not pop. “You remember the spell I used to clear away the rocks in front of the mines back during the storm, right?” Twilight nodded. “That was blue magic. It’s also the same kind of spell I used the other day when I fought that weird dragon-beast.”
“So you said that can’t learn it through training,” Twilight said. “Then how are you supposed to learn it?”
Gilgamesh picked up the cupcake and took a single bit from it before placing it back down on the plate. “Blue magic is acquired by experiencing it. In order to properly master a spell, you would need to be struck by it from either another blue mage or a monster that can cast it.”
Twilight placed a hoof on her chin, and her eyes seemed to light up. “Oh! So when that dragon hit you with its fire, and you turned around and shot it back at it… That was blue magic?”
“Yes it was!” Gilgamesh was certainly happy about her newfound interest in his world. “But blue magic is also ridiculously situational, unfortunately. Because it’s so unorganized compared to the other types of magic, it’s hard to find consistent uses for it. But when it’s useful, it’s incredibly useful.”
“Like for blowing up rocks?” Twilight deadpanned, and took a bite from her cupcake.
“Exactly. I could go into specifics about it, but I think I’ll save that for some other time.” Gilgamesh grimaced. “Magic is… Well, it’s complicated, and at least one type of this is one that even I don’t get entirely.”
“So what’s next?”
“Okay, let’s see… Red, black, white, blue… Oh, yes! The next type of magic is time magic. This is another weird one, just because I don’t quite understand the specifics of how it works… but I’ll try to explain it as best as I can. So time ma–”
Twilight looked over his shoulder. “Oh, hey Pinkie!” she called, completely cutting off his statement.
Pinkie Pie bounced over to the table, and looked between the two of them. “Ooh! Hi, Twilight! Hi, Gilgamesh! What brings you two to our super-duper-happy-awesome-corner-of-fun?” she asked.
“We just came here to get something to eat, and to talk,” Twilight said vaguely. “Wait – where have you been?”
Pinkie rolled her eyes, and pointed over to the kitchen. “I’ve been right over there, of course!” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I was keeping a super close eye on you two. To make sure you were enjoying yourselves!” she quickly added.
Gilgamesh rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s… not creepy at all.”
“And I heard you two talking about magic and stuff, and I wanted to come over and join you!” She paused. “Do you mind if I join you?”
The odds of her taking “no” for an answer seemed abysmally low, especially given who they were talking to, so Gilgamesh decided to take the smart decision. Not the logical decision, but the smart one.
“Of course, Pinkie,” he said. “But wait… won’t you get in trouble?”
She grinned. “Of course not! It’s my lunch break, silly!” She turned to Twilight. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me! Twilight, do you mind if I talk to you later? It’s super-duper important!”
Twilight blinked. “Oh, uh… sure, Pinkie. But after we finish up here, okay?”
“It shouldn’t take too long anyway,” Gilgamesh said. “We only have… two types of magic to go, actually.”
Pinkie sat down to Twilight’s immediate left and nodded. “Oh, yeah! I heard all about the other colors. So what’s left?”
“As I’d been saying,” Gilgamesh continued from where he left off, “the next type of magic is time magic. Like I said, this is a really weird one, but not for the reason you’d think… It doesn’t focus on time travelling or anything like that, actually. Time magic is all about changing the time around either allies or enemies… often with weird effects. The most obvious two are slowing down enemies and speeding up friends.” Something that he would never do around Pinkie Pie, he silently added. “But there are other things, too.”
“Like what?” Twilight asked.
“Well, first of all,” Gilgamesh said, “I still don’t quite get it – even though it’s one of the types I use – but I think I have a… basic grasp of it? Yeah, I think so.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Time magic is used to treat wounds by speeding up an ally’s recovery time, but the weird thing is that it’s also used to manipulate space.”
“Oh! Oh!” Pinkie waved her hoof around in the air. “I have a question!”
Gilgamesh sighed on the inside. “Yes, Pinkie?”
“So when you say ‘space,’ do you mean like outer space?” she asked. “Like the planets, comets, and things like that?”
“In a way, yes,” Gilgamesh said slowly. “That’s certainly a part of it. One of the spells even brings down comets, but…” He shook his head. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Anyway! It also refers to matter in general. I think.” He placed a hand on his chin. “There are at least two spells that alter gravity, and time magic’s also where the spell Exdeath used to banish me comes from, Twilight.”
Twilight nodded. “I see…”
“Pfft, and you say that you don’t understand it,” Pinkie said. “That sounds pretty ‘understanding’ to me!”
Gilgamesh shook his head. “A-anyway, as I was saying. The final form of magic that I know of is summoning magic.” He frowned. “Again, self-explanatory, but it’s basically the ability to call forth elemental spirits to fight for you. Unlike the others, this one is incredibly complex because, like blue magic, you can’t learn this one through simple practice alone.”
“So how do you learn it, then?” Twilight asked. “I’m… I’m guessing that you don’t just get hit by summoned beasts to learn that one?”
“Well… kind of?” Gilgamesh said. “Technically, you do need to get hit by summoned beasts in order to gain access to the magic, but… Well, I’ll just explain it as best as I can. So in order to summon a powerful spirit, you need to make a pact with it. Unfortunately, that isn’t as simple as it sounds.”
“I’d imagine!” Pinkie said. “There’s probably some secret ritual, and you probably have to surrender something you love and cherish so that you can get the power to–”
“Actually,” Gilgamesh interrupted, “you just have to hit the spirit. A lot.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “As long as it takes them to acknowledge that you are clearly ready to wield their power, at least. Some of them might just jump in your pocket, but for the most part, it seems that almost all of them want to fight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
Of course, he’d never summoned an elemental spirit himself, but Gilgamesh occasionally sparred with Carbuncle, a beast in Exdeath’s castle, in order to better his abilities at piercing reflect barriers. He often wondered why Carbuncle decided to spend his days mulling about in a castle of skulls when he clearly was not trapped there like the others, but he was not going to complain or risk driving away a powerful foe. And just the thought of his duels was causing his blood to yearn for a duel with a powerful opponent.
“So, do you understand that?” he asked, quickly pulling himself back to reality before another tangent struck.
“I think so,” Twilight said. “I mean, I guess it makes sense that a spirit would want to test your power before they join up with you. I mean, imagine if you tried to summon a monster and it was too much for you…” She shuddered at the mental image, and Gilgamesh felt a chill run down his own spine at the thought of an inexperienced summoner trying to bring forth Bahamut or Leviathan.
“Then that’s it,” he said. “There isn’t much more that I can tell you regarding magic, besides some specific spells. Is there anything else you wanted to ask me, then?”
Twilight paused for a moment. “Um… no, I think I’m good for now. Thanks, Gilgamesh.”
He waved a hand. “Not a problem,” he said. “If you have any further questions, and it’s a convenient time when I’m not sleeping or fighting for whatever reason, please do not hesitate to ask me for anything else!” He needed something to do, after all.
Pinkie tapped Twilight’s shoulder. “Okay, Twilight! Now I have to ask you something! Um… do you mind coming back to the kitchens with me? This is, uh… This is a pretty important thing.”
Twilight blinked. “Huh? Oh, uh… sure, Pinkie.” She glanced over at Gilgamesh. “Alright, Gilgamesh. I guess I’ll see you later. Thanks for this!”
“Thank you,” he replied, and stood up.
Gilgamesh grabbed the not-yet-half-eaten cupcake and took another bite from it, before turning to leave Candy Land. He walked out to no resistance, and stepped off into the distance from the only interesting thing that would happen that day, even if it was literally just rattling off statistics like some sort of business meeting.
Oh well, at least he had a piano.
Night had fallen across Equestria, bathing the land in a dark cloak. The Canterlot Police Department, however, had remained as active as ever, especially given the recent events that had transpired across Equestria.
Chief of Police Dreadnaught entered into the small room, and sat down on a wooden chair. It was not a big room – at roughly twenty-five feet long, fifteen feet wide, and eight feet tall – but it would suffice. The room was entirely built from stone, with the door on one of the long walls and a small window on the opposite side. The floor was partially covered with a white, ovular rug, and a small bookcase sat on one of the shorter walls, with a bed beside it.
The denizen of the room looked up. He was an older-looking stallion, with a very dark gray coat and a yellow mane and tail. His cutie mark – Dreadnaught grimaced inside at the mention of such a term. Did Celestia have no pride? – was partially obscured by the table, but was a single black sixteenth note that nearly blended in with his fur.
The stallion looked up from the table and grinned. “Oh, Dreadnaught!” he said, in a deep yet quiet voice. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”
Dreadnaught smiled in turn, and laid the two mugs he’d been carrying on the wooden table. “Don’t worry about it.”
“So,” the stallion said conversationally, “how’s your daughter?”
“I think you’d know better than I would, Nacht,” Dreadnaught said jokingly. “She’s fine, though. And yours?”
Nacht chuckled. “She’s… doing okay, I think.” He paused, and looked up with a serious expression. “So… has anything new been found?”
“Not since I checked on you last, no.” Dreadnaught tapped the side of his mug. “But you already know what we’ve found.”
“Yes,” Nacht said, and took a swig from his mug. “Hmm… Cider?” He looked up. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nightmare Night’s in two days,” Dreadnaught replied, and drank some of his own. “I figured you should enjoy what you can, right?”
“You sound so grave about it,” Nacht said with a grin. He shook his head, and the grin fell off. “But… maybe it would be for the best at this point…”
Dreadnaught pressed a hoof to the table. “Don’t talk like that!” he snapped. “We… we’re almost there, I can tell!”
“Really? Two days left, and we have nothing substantial.” Nacht took another swig of cider. “Don’t waste your time with something like this – with somepony like me. It’s not healthy.”
“Tell that to Quill.” Dreadnaught shook his head.
Nacht grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve heard what he’s doing… The idiot’s going to wind up killing himself over this stupid case…”
Dreadnaught nodded, but stayed quiet for several seconds. “Are you nervous?” he finally managed to ask.
“If I’m going to be honest?” Nacht paused, and lowered his head. “Yes. I-I’m terrified, really… But I should have known this was coming since the start. I… I hate to talk like this, Dreadnaught, but I don’t think you’ll make it in time.”
“Yes… Even I’m starting to question it, myself.”
“But Dreadnaught,” Nacht suddenly said, “even if you can’t do it, I want you and the others to do something for me.”
“What is it?” Dreadnaught asked.
Nacht nodded and leaned in close. “Whatever happens to me, you have to catch that monster. He – or she, maybe, I don’t know – is still out there.” His eyes turned alight for a second. “And while I don’t care what happens at this point, you have to make sure that whoever is responsible for this mess meets with the justice he or she deserves.” He paused and sighed. “No… No, that’s not true. I do care what happens, but I…”
“Yes, I know,” Dreadnaught replied. “And I will do everything in my power to catch the true criminal. Just as we all have been for all these years.”
“Hard to believe that it all went by so quickly…” Nacht shook his head. “I was hoping that it’d be over faster, that it could all be done with…”
“I know,” Dreadnaught repeated, and took another drink from his cider. “If worse comes to worst, I’m prepared to go to extremes.”
Nacht grit his teeth. “Don’t even think about it,” he growled. “I’m not going to let you of all ponies do something stupid just because of a mistake.”
Dreadnaught slammed his hoof into the table, causing the two mugs to rattle. “I’d hardly call what happened a ‘mistake,’ Nacht!” He calmed himself down. “All anypony wants is for this tragedy to come to an end. I’m not turning you into a martyr like a certain organization has.”
“Constellation?” Nacht guessed.
“Do I even need to say it?” Dreadnaught replied. He sighed. “Nacht… I’ll do what I can, and I can’t promise you any more than that.”
Nacht stood up and walked over to the window. “I-I know,” he said. “And I’m not going to ask you to, either. This whole thing is ridiculous, and I don’t want to waste anypony’s time with it any longer. The sooner it can just be left in the past, the better.”
“I just hope we can end it off without any more trouble,” Dreadnaught said gravely. “Quill and Prosecutor Dire are already having hard enough times as is, and then there’s Vinyl and Octavia…”
Nacht’s face became pained. “Yes… I know.” He shook his head. “But if anypony can make it past this, it’s Fenrir. And Vinyl, Octavia, and Sullivan…” He pressed a hoof to his forehead. “I hope they can, too.”
“Me too,” said Dreadnaught. He reached for Nacht’s mug, but looked up. “Are you still drinking this?” Nacht shook his head. “Alright… Then I’ll just take this out of here with me, if you don’t mind.”
Dreadnaught stood up and held both mugs by his side. There was no point in leaving it, after all, especially given Nacht’s current situation.
He turned to look at his friend. “Nacht,” he said slowly, “are you going to be alright?”
Nacht blinked and looked back at him. “I’m…” He paused, placed a hoof on his chin, and swallowed. “Y-yeah,” he said at last, “I think I’ll be fine. I’m sorry for all of this.”
“There’s no need for you to apologize,” Dreadnaught said, and turned to leave the room, but suddenly glanced back. “Do you need anything else?”
Nacht shook his head. “No, I think I should be fine. Thank you, though, Dreadnaught. This was…” He paused, as if he was trying to find the correct word. “This was fun. A shame we can’t do it more often.”
“Who knows?” Dreadnaught replied. “Maybe we’ll get lucky. We’ve still got time to find out the truth, so who knows what’ll happen next? Until then, though…”
“Yeah,” Nacht said, “I’ll see you some other time. Whenever it’s convenient.”
Dreadnaught simply nodded and exited the room, slamming the cell’s door behind him as he went.
Gilgamesh stepped into the small box that made up his home, muttering to himself about the past several hours. Rather than go straight home, he had been led around Ponyville by a serious of increasingly-banal activities that did nothing more than drive him to the point of exhaustion. Even if he had the opportunity to speak with his newfound friends, it did little to aid their relationships.
He reached for the switch that turned on the light, and flipped it on so that he could see what was going on in the darkness…
… only to be greeted by the visages of seven very happy-looking creatures.
“Surprise!” they called, throwing their hooves into the air in recognition of some sort of celebration.
Gilgamesh, surprised by the preemptive strike, looked around the house quickly, and noticed things that looked completely out of place – balloons with little strings and words, streamers that looked as though they were flat-out stapled to the ceiling, and a large table with a massive, rectangular cake, drinks, plates, and other eating utensils.
“What is all of this?” he asked, finally able to act.
Pinkie Pie bounced her way over to him. “Well, duh! What do you think it is?” she asked, and pointed at the cake. “It’s your ‘Welcome-to-Ponyville’ party, of course!”
Sure enough, the large cake had “Welcome to Ponyville” written on it in green letters and decorated with green flowers, and it had a small picture of a little Gilgamesh fighting a little dragon in one corner. It was adorable.
Pinkie rubbed her hooves together nervously. “I know it’s a bit late but, uh… Well, whaddaya think about it?”
Gilgamesh looked back at the group of ponies behind him. All of his friends were there; even Discord was present and accounted for, though Gilgamesh presumed that was more because he had to make sure that no creature was trying to kill Fluttershy.
After several seconds of careful deliberation, Gilgamesh nodded. “I think it’s perfect.” He paused. “Wait… is this why you all carted me all over the town today?”
Rainbow Dash rubbed her neck. “It… took us a lot more time than we wanted it to.” She rolled her eyes. “’Cause a certain egghead wanted us to – Ahem! – ‘perfectly measure out the distance of the streamers.’”
Twilight flushed. “I’m sorry, but we had eight streamers and this house is perfectly square! I wanted it to look really nice!”
“That doesn’t mean you had to make it into a math problem!”
“In any case!” Twilight quickly said, prompting Rainbow Dash to roll her eyes, “I’m sorry about how much stuff you had to do today, but, well… I hope you enjoy the party!”
Gilgamesh grinned. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He could already tell that this day would be one of the greatest in recent memory, without even having the party yet. “Come, my friends! Let us enjoy these great festivities!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, his newfound friends all joined him in what may have very well been one of the greatest parties Gilgamesh experienced in his entire life. Then again, he had grown up without much of a use for partying, so this was one of the only parties he’d experienced. And, so he thought, the simple acts of talking, exchanging stories, and just being with his friends was more than enough for him to acknowledge that it was one of the greatest days of his entire life.
And it was there, in that room, where he first wondered if he really wanted to go back at all. But only after getting a picture of little Gilgamesh fighting the little dragon to frame on his wall. That was a keeper.
The soft beeps of a heart monitor echoed in the white room of the Canterlot Hospital. The line was steady, if somewhat slow compared to a normal beat, but that was to be expected, especially given the room’s current occupant.
Luna felt her eyes open slowly, her mind groggy from unconsciousness, before the scenery of her current location came into view. Her head was sore, and there was a stinging pain in her face where something had cut into her, but she couldn’t quite remember what it was.
“P… Princess Luna? You’re awake!” came a cry of relief and joy, and Luna turned her head to see one Encrypted Glass, staring at her with tears in his eyes.
“Glass…?” she groaned. “What happened…?”
“You don’t remember, Princess?” Glass asked, his face suddenly becoming terrified. “There was… you were attacked in your room and I… I was so worried about you…”
The memories came flooding back: a dark room, the sound of the closing door, and that monstrous creature’s voice.
”I wonder what color an alicorn bleeds. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to find out, see?”
Luna shuddered, and felt the pain in her skull increase. Of course, she’d crashed into the wall, and then that assassin had tried to kill her…
“I… I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Glass said, his normally-proper tone completely dashed, “so I came here to check in on you… Yes. I did.”
“How long have you been here?” Luna asked, ignoring her incredibly dry throat. Why had she only just noticed that?
Glass shook his head. “I, uh… I came here yesterday, a few hours after you were attacked, and I’ve been here ever since. Yes. I have.”
“You’ve been here for a whole day?!” Luna suddenly sat up, the sharp pain in her skull intensifying. “G-Glass!”
“I-I’m sorry, Princess!” he said, shrinking in his chair. “I-I just… I just wanted to make sure you were okay…”
As he was now, the royal messenger uniform looked too big on him, even more so than usual. The hat seemed to be swallowing his head, and the jacket hung a bit off his chest. It was almost as though he were a child trying on the clothes of an older sibling or parent for the first time.
Luna shook her head. “Glass – you… you do not have to apologize. Really, I should be the one apologizing to you,” she said, retaking her more formal tone of voice. “I should not have pulled you into here in the first place.”
“No, no!” Glass said frantically. “I came here myself, Princess. Yes. I did. You shouldn’t be apologizing.” He glanced away. “Especially given what happened…”
“You’re right,” Luna agreed, and lay back down. “The one at fault is that creature who attacked me. That coward of an assassin.”
Glass nodded. “Yes. I can’t believe anypony would do something so terrible, especially to a princess…”
Luna shuddered again. Clearly the attacker had been enjoying itself in its assault, but why had it attacked her in the first place? Had it been just a spur of the moment decision to try and kill a princess, or was there something more behind it?
Glass’s expression suddenly changed completely, and he held a hoof to his head. “Ugh… I-I’m sorry, Princess. My head’s… Ugh…” He groaned, and Luna noticed, to her shock, that his eyes were actually starting to turn up in his skull.
“Glass, do you want me to call for the nurses?” she asked, already poised to press the button.
“N-no, Princess,” Glass groaned. “I-I’ll just… walk home, if… ugh… if that’s o-oka-okay… Y-yes. I… urk…”
“Are you sure?” Luna asked. “I could very easily–”
“No, I’ll be f-fine… ugh…” Glass clutched at his skull. “Please, I’ll… I’ll just get going… Ugh… Princess, I’ll… I’ll see you when I… when I get the next chance…”
Without giving her a chance to respond, Glass stumbled over to the door drunkenly, groaning in agony as he walked out. Luna sat back in her bed and sighed to herself. She could relate to Glass’s pain, but if it were so bad, she would put in express order to get that medicine herself.
But all she could do now was wait in silence for the next day, when she would likely be released, and when she could raise the moon again.
Gilgamesh’s house was oddly quiet, save for the notes of the piano. The party had ended around an hour ago, and he now sat at the edge of his new hobby and foe, playing the keys to the best of his ability while also yearning for the events of the past.
His stomach was full of adorable cake, the streamers had been torn off the walls – much to Rainbow Dash’s not-so-subtle protesting – and Twilight had gone over magic even further with him, because that was apparently necessary.
Gilgamesh sat back from the piano, and nodded his silent approval at his increased skills. Was he an expert? No, not by a large margin, but that would change in time.
Perhaps he would keep the piano after the concert was done, he thought. It could be a fun little distraction from his usual grind of doing nothing. Yes, that sounded like a good idea, and he was sure that Vinyl and Octavia would be more than happy to agree to such a thing.
But first, he would have to find something else to do.