//------------------------------// // Chapter 29 - Lost and Found // Story: Bad Mondays // by Handyman //------------------------------// She lay there for some time after waking up. The world was still mostly dark even as somewhere far above the forest, the sun slowly rose in the sky. The warm early morning sunlight pierced the canopy far above her, tiny tears in the unending blackness like a smattering of stars on an artificial night sky. The sunlight, like celestial spears, pierced the air, diagonal columns of golden warmth stark against the twisting shapes on the unyielding trees that stood like the sentinels of ancient myth, eternal, undeniable, and immutable as living stone. She was warm as a particularly large shaft of sunlight spilled over her like a blanket as she shifted on the fine dust of the gentle decline she rested on. The soft dirt gave way as she moved her hooves experimentally, her movements sluggish and her mind foggy. Her throat was dry and her body felt lethargic and exhausted. Yet in spite of that, she was perfectly content to lie there, comfortable even. She didn't dwell on it; her thoughts were practically non-existent and her worries and concerns melted away with them. It was just her and this moment in time, watching the dust motes floating in the air, caught in the beams of light that descended from on high and looking out over the inviting, clean pond water in front of her further down the decline. She smacked her lips. 'Water,' the first coherent thought echoed in her mind. She tried getting up, a considerable feat considering her condition and just how warm and comfortable she was lying there... only to trip and fall over, hitting the ground with her chin hard. She groaned and tugged at her hooves, to find them restrained. Befuddled, she retracted the membrane that protected her eyes and scrunched her face in confusion. Yep, those sure were bloody, colourful cloths wrapping her legs together. She looked at them for easily five minutes, her weary brain slowly churning, trying to figure out why in the hell she was tied up in the middle of the forest and why she couldn't seem to recall anything for the last forever. Now, a normal person would be all kinds of freaked out at the implications of that last sentence, but Thorax was a changeling. Changelings looked at things differently. Instead of being concerned for her health, safety, or sobriety, as a changeling, her first concern was 'Damnit, I thought I got away with stealing that extra ration.' You see, stealing extra rations from the feeding chamber was a serious crime for a changeling, albeit one that did not result in banishment. Banishment was a terrible idea for a punishment in changeling colonies and clusters. It increased the risk of discovery, encouraged defection to other races or rival colonies out of desperation, and removed one more useful changeling for the colony. Instead, changelings were exiled, usually by being bound and dumped in a hostile environment and expected to return home with enough food to make amends for their trespass. It was not permanent exile; rather, it was a challenge and a means of redemption. Firstly, they need to prove they could survive to prove they weren’t a burden on the hive. Secondly, they had to bring back more emotion to contribute to the communal feeding chamber to make up for what they stole. However, given enough time, even the most important and punitive of traditions could fall victim to contempt, and in times of plenty, the punishment often fell by the wayside, or outcasts were placed in less dangerous scenarios than tradition otherwise demanded. Also, changelings tended to steal rations, pin it on someone else, and then volunteer with a couple of buddies to knock out the patsy and dump them in the middle of nowhere for shits and giggles. Changelings. However, having one's hooves tied was literally child's play to a changeling. They wouldn't have survived as long as they had as a species if they could be detained by this most rudimentary of means. She shifted her forelegs, back and forth, up and down, shimmying her binds until they fell into one of the gaps of her legs. The sudden slack allowed her to pull out her right foreleg completely and let the rags slip off before doing the same to her hind legs. She trotted over to the pond with more vigour than she honestly felt, feeling pleased with herself for disposing of her bindings with contemptuous ease. A moment she soon regretted as the sudden movements quickly made her lose balance as her head swam and the biting chill of the wind nipped at her withers. All this was forgotten, however, as she dunked her head into the clear water, quickly drawing it back with a gasp, letting the cool water run down her face to help wake her up before she returned her muzzle to the surface and drank deeply. 'Okay... what did I do... how did I get here?' she asked herself, trying to dredge up memories as her mind slowly woke up, aided by the gloriously fresh water. 'The last thing I remember was....' She stopped as she slowly opened her eyes again to look at her slightly distorted reflection in the water. The first thing she noticed were her own chartreuse eyes looking back at her, which was the first sign something was deeply amiss. Changelings never slept without their eye covers. Or at least soldiers, scouts, and infiltrators didn't. It was a defensive measure – the lenses of their ocular covers reacted to the light, which prevented changelings from being dazed or blinded, not to mention keeping their eyes clean and free of foreign material. In short, they were invaluable in their line of work. So if she woke up without them on, she had to have been knocked out in the first instance. Second, there was a very familiar, yet very worrying talisman about her neck, a pendant that sent a shiver down her spine at the vague recollection of the feeling of having your body move but not move to your own will. Thirdly, there was this curious stain on the side of her neck. And, all at once, the memories of the previous night and day flooded her mind. She took it about as well as you might think. She had to quickly extract herself from the pool of water she had promptly fallen into, with all the grace and precision years of military training and scouting could muster mind you. She totally wasn't flailing, shaking water off herself, spluttering, and coughing, nope. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts and gritted her teeth. See, biting someling's neck meant a number of things in changeling culture, which was understandable. Their own fangs were highly versatile creations capable of producing a number of toxins and venom ranging anywhere from paralyzing a victim and enervation to straight up knocking a pony out or causing various effects, including feelings of intense paranoia and minor audio-visual hallucinations. When used on prey, read, anything that wasn't a changeling, it was a tool. Use in changeling society on other changelings was strictly taboo, except in very specific circumstances. So the human biting her was the cultural equivalent of walking into a Catholic church and throwing up in the Baptismal font. Faux pas didn't even begin to cut it. The stub of a tail twitched in agitation, a bad habit. An almost silent, organic sound of a knife slicing through meat sounded as her covers slid in place back over her eyes once more. First things first, she still had a mission, and her queen did her work in getting him under her hoof. She was going to ensure he saw that through. Then, THEN, she would get back at him. She shook her head and got back to her hooves, looking around her to see for signs of the human's departure. Spotting his distinctive footprints, which would be hard for him not to leave in such heavy armour, she smiled to herself as she followed after them. She left behind the rags that had been used in a vain attempt to detain her and the torn saddlebags that were never hers to begin with. --=-- "Whirlwind?" Jacques asked groggily, his eyes barely parted and woozy as his vision swam. Wait a minute. Nope. His vision was mostly okay; it was his body that was moving back and forth. His head was killing him, and his horn felt like it was vibrating at a frequency of fuck-off-and-die. Or maybe that was just the nerves at the base throbbing like a hive of angry bees, or all the blood rushing to his head. Or all of the above with a side order eat-shit. His body was not very fond of him at the moment as you might be able to tell. "Yeah?" the far too familiar and far too joyful voice of the stag replied. Jacques couldn't see him, largely because Jacques couldn't take his sight off of the ground waaaaaay below him. Jacques managed to maintain a neutral expression despite the slowly rising panic welling up within him. He hated heights. "Why are we in a tree, non, how... are we in a tree?" he asked, teeth gritted, pupils shrinking, eyes widening slowly as they opened up. Jacques really hated heights. "Haha, well you see, funny story really—" "Whirlwind?" Jacques said with a little bit of alarm as he began struggling, his legs caught up in a delicate patchwork of interlocking branches from two impossibly tall trees that began shaking alarmingly as he moved. He froze, waiting for the trembling to stop. "…and we were losing, ra-haha-ther badly, I might add. You were down, the human was down. Really, you're lucky I was around!" "Whirlwind!?" Jacques said more urgently, his hoof placement awkward. His sword slipped out of its resting place in the crook of his leg and fell to the ground far below, spinning and whirling in the early morning haze as sunlight pierced the canopy that was still a good distance above them. "No!" he shouted, attempting to move forward but forcing himself rigidly back into place as the branches moved. "Monsieur Stabby!" he whined mournfully as his beloved sword disappeared into the underbrush. He turned behind him to see his charge lying on his back, suspended God only knew how high off of the cold, hard, unforgiving earth by little more than a bundle of ivy vines as he gestured with his forehooves explaining with copious enthusiasm the simply riveting tale of how they got up here. And how he had fought the mage to a standstill singlehoofedly. "–and he was all like 'This is not even my final form!' and then he charged at me, but I held him off! It got pretty close, I am not gonna lie, well okay maybe a little, but then I saw this... magic thing. Yeah, let’s call it that. It fell out of the unicorn's saddle bags. Not you, the pretty one, red fur, brown mane? Anyway, I accidentally broke it, and as you would say, voila!" he said, clapping his forehooves together for emphasis as he swung idly on the vines. Now, it wasn't exactly professional of him to do so, particularly since he actually liked Whirlwind as a client, but it was at times like these when he sincerely wished the stag suffered a severe case of rash from the ivy that he hoped was maybe just a little bit terribly poisonous. Just, like, a little bit. "WHIRLWIND!?" "Yeah?" Whirlwind replied happily, swinging his hind leg lazily in the air beneath him, entirely comfortable in his predicament. Jacques looked up at him from his leafy precipice. "Can you. Get us. Down?" Jacques asked carefully, sounding angry. In truth, he was more terrified and trying his damnedest not to panic about the potential forty foot drop. Or was that sixty? A hundred? He wasn't sure – the ground would not stop moving and warping and oh Celestia why did he keep looking down!? "Oh sure!" Whirlwind said. "I forgot we had to do that." "F-Forgot?" Jacques sputtered disbelievingly. Whirlwind nodded resolutely. "And I was having such a nice time up here. Been a while since I took a swing in the trees; forgot what it was like. Oh! Can't you just levitate yourself down?" Whirlwind asked curiously, tapping the bottom of his muzzle with a hoof. Jacques stared at him incredulously before gesturing to his throbbing horn with the dried in blood around its base. "Oh! Right, right, out of commission for a while, gotcha. Anyway, would you be so kind as to let us down?" Whirlwind asked, turning his head away and flashing a winning smile at... the vines. "Whirlwind," Jacques began after several seconds of silence, "it’s a plant, it can't hear yo—" He was silenced by a raised cloven hoof. "Ap-bup-bup!" he said, nuzzling the bundle of vines. "Come on. Come on, wake up," he said gently. The vines seemed to shift and move, although Jacques was pretty sure that was just Whirlwind's movements causing that. Whirlwind frowned. "Don't be like that," he said, poking it with his nose. Something somewhere groaned audibly, creaking wood and something organic stretching. Whirlwind was lowered, physically lowered, by the vines which extended, growing and gently delivering the stag to the surface at a slow begrudging pace. Jacques stared, slack-jawed, as the stag hummed happily to himself as he was lowered. Then the leaves shook under him. "Woah, hey! Hey!" Jacques shouted as the leaves bent and lowered. He fell to his belly and gripped the branches with his forelegs, desperately clinging to the branch which was now shaking him to get him off. "Whirlwind!? WHIRLWIND!? WHAT DID YOU DO!?" "Relax!" Whirlwind shouted up from below. "They're just trying to help!" "The tree is trying to shrug me off!" "Yeah you'd do that too if you had a pony on your shoulder." He could hear the deer chuckle. Jacques let out a very unstallionly scream as he lost his grip on the branch— And promptly fell on top of several others with an "oof!" The rest of his journey to the ground was punctuated by the occasional high pitched scream and constant terrified whimpers. All the while, the stag hummed a little ditty cheerfully to himself. "Thanks!" he said the vines, which retracted to their original position after he rolled to his hooves as he got out of the basket of vines that he had landed in after being transported. The relic's presence in the human's possession, and how he was going to justify and explain to the elders his own wilful destruction of it, raised a lot of uncomfortable thoughts he'd really rather not dwell on at the moment. So he didn't! Instead, he thought of happier things! Butterflies! Honeymead! That earth pony lass who robbed him blind after he had one too many drinks! You know, most people, being sane and reasonable and not Whirlwind, would consider that last point to be a bad memory. But as far as Whirlwind was concerned, it was his own damn fault for not suspecting something was up when a stunningly beautiful mare miles out of his league sauntered up to him and started buying him drinks and seemed really interested in his life story. He didn't normally go for ponies but, well, she was quite a sight to behold. It was not as if he didn't get his own back, managing to track her and her thief buddies down outside of town. It was just he appreciated the effort and grace with which she robbed him and had to tell her so in person. Oh, and he had also wanted his stuff back, and she had best comply if she didn't want to take an antler to her pretty face. Needless to say she didn't, and Whirlwind was in quite a bit of trouble when her pegasus buddies had started ganging up on him. In fact, it was around about then that Jacques had showed up. Boy, was Whirlwind lucky he arrived when he did. Those thieves had scarpered and he had gotten his stuff back. Jacques was a great guy and dependable. He had offered to keep him company on his way to Firthengart, saying something about Whirlwind's grandfather being worried about him and hiring him via letter. Whatever, Whirlwind hadn’t cared much about being babied by his elder like some fragile fawn, but at least his supposed bodyguard was an amiable fellow. Speaking of Jacques... "Hey, Jacques?" Whirlwind asked, looking up, trying to see where his friend had gone. "You down yet buddy?" And right on cue, there was an 'oof!', a groan of pain, and a lump of pony lying sprawled amidst the undergrowth as the lower branches of the trees dropped him unceremoniously as close to the ground as they could reach. Basically, he fell nearly ten feet into a collection of bushes and shrubs that weren't nearly as comfortable to land in as one might think. "Aha! You made it!" he said, hopping in place. "Hey, guess what? I know where we are!" "Pooouurrrquuue..." Jacques moaned. "Uh, no, I don't know where Poor Cwaw is," Whirlwind said, chuckling, knowing full well what his friend meant but deciding to laugh it off anyway. Hopefully, he could get through this without Jacques asking too many questions about where exactly they were. "But I know where here is! And that means we can get out of here! Preferably as soon as possible!" "W-We?" "Yes! You me, the human over..." It was then Whirlwind realized said human was nowhere nearby. His antlered head snapped from side to side, eyes slowly widening, the gentle smile on his dirtied and bloodied muzzle becoming ever so strained. "Okay! New plan! We're going to find that human and the mare and then we're all going to get out of here and get ice cream! Sound fun? Sounds fun!" "Quoi?" "Exactly, good stuff!" Whirlwind said, helping his friend to his hooves. "Now come along, we have a lot of ground to cover, haha! And we don't even know which direction we should start looking! This is going to be fun, huh!?" "Where are we? Ugh..." Jacques held a hoof to his barrel, nausea threatening to spill what contents of his stomach remained. Also, he noticed that his cuts had healed up, or at least scabbed over. That was nice. "In the woods!" "What woo—" "Hey, is that your sword?" "My sw— Oh! Merde!" Jacques swore, suddenly twisting and turning around, looking for his fallen blade before diving into the underbrush to search for it. Whirlwind breathed a sigh of relief, the smile disappearing from his face as he rubbed his forehead with a hoof. How exactly was he going to find the others and get them all out of here without them asking too many uncomfortable questions about where they were or how he knew where to go? Or before other deer came across them? Or before the forest got to them? There was a reason deer were the only ones who could navigate the Greenwoods safely, and even that was not as much of a guarantee these days as it used to be. He looked up at the canopy, frowning. He shouldn't have had to kindly ask the vines to let him down; he should have been able to simply wish for it, almost without thinking. It was getting bad. He didn't want to see this place when winter came and they had no means of soothing the forest. Nodeer did. "So yeah, anyway, I'm thinkiiiinnnng…," Whirlwind said, hoof to the base of his muzzle, scanning the surroundings, trying to see the forest for all the trees. Literally. "They're that way!" he said, pointing somewhere that may have been westwards had they been actually able to see the sun. It was anydeer’s guess as to how any daylight reached the bottom of the forest floor. Whatever the reason, the ever-present haze that prevented seeing too far ahead of oneself was plenty bright due to the refraction of the sunlight. Whirlwind's nose shifted, his ear flicking and his head turning, eyes training on a collection of rags at the base of a decline to a crystal clear pond. Subtle and distinctly not deer-like, the hoofprints in the soft dirt led off in quite literally the opposite direction he was pointing. He sniffed again, turning once more and discovering torn saddlebags near the base of another tree. Whirlwind wasn't sure whether to laugh at or slap himself for not waking up earlier and avoiding having to track the human and the mare down. As it was, he lowered his right foreleg and then raised his left, all while Jacques was preoccupied with savaging the underbrush for his sword. "Thwy're whaf whay?" Jacques asked, mouthful of sword present as his head popped up from a rather large bush. Whirlwind reflected on how silly he looked without his hat and the receding green colouration of his facial hair he had received from a rather reserved mare who didn't take too kindly to his advances. Okay, he had to be honest, Jacques looked silly anyway, but he could at least pull off that whole dashing swordspony schtick rather well. "Yes." "What?" "Come on! We need to catch up. Look!" he said, pointing to the hoof prints. Jacques looked at them sceptically. "Alright, but you need to explain how you got us here," Jacques said. "And leave out the bits with the sorcerer por favour. What was this magic thing you used?" Whirlwind's ears flicked, but his pleasant expression didn't change. "I have no idea!" he said. "The human's ponyservant had it in her packs! We should probably find him and ask." Whirlwind walked over to the packs in question and threw them over his back. A few things fell out; nothing worth taking note of apart from a bottle filled with a strange, viscous, yellow substance. Probably nothing important. Jacques scrutinized him for a moment before exhaling through his nose and wandering over to the pond, analysing the evidence. "I suppose we should find them. Galaxy knows I could do with some answers. You said you know where we are?" "Yep!" "And you can get us out of here?" "Sure can!" "Well alright then. I'll go ahead and make sure the sorcerer didn't come along for the ride," Jacques said, sheathing his sword, wincing and rubbing his forehead just below the base of the horn. "Really, Jacques, I'm sure everything will be just fine." Whirlwind still had that smile plastered on his dirtied muzzle as his eyes looked around him at the forest bereft of life. At the body of water that stood as still and clear as a mirror without so much as a ripple. At the rustling of the plant life that moved in the breeze that by all rights should not be blowing this hard in this section of the forest. There was a hard edge to his shrunken pupils and a strain on his ever-present smile as he tried to suppress his deep seated concern. "Just fine..." --=-- Honestly, she did not know what she had been expecting. Perhaps to find him doing something nefarious, or feasting on some small animal. Perhaps taking out a map or fiddling with that strange, thin, magic stone he kept on his person that lit up and played strange songs. She had not expected to find him on his knees. She had lost his trail once or twice since she began looking for him, growing increasingly frustrated. She had the sense to turn back to her pony disguise, just on the off chance someling else was hiding off in the trees that might spot her. Better to be caught as a pony than as a changeling after all. She was just about to take to the air and begin looking from above when she spotted something incredibly bright in the distance, an intense light that cut through the haze. Curiosity had rewarded her with her quarry. A thin beam of light piercing the canopy hit him across the back of his armour, causing it to shine intolerably bright. She kept her distance, a good fifteen yards or so, and circled around, keeping him in sight without giving away her position. He was mumbling something she couldn't make out. The helmet he wore now rested on the ground just in front of his knees. He clasped it with both his hands as he hunched over, pressing down on it as if trying to support himself with it. His face was dirty, and soot smudges covered his face, sprinkled with dried in mud. Thin streaks ran down his cheeks, disrupting the mask of filth, and he had dark, red rings around his eyes. His hair stood out in random tufts from where he had pulled at it. It had been an awfully long time since she had seen a look quite so haunted on someling's face, which unnerved the changeling for reasons besides the obvious. Question: you were a being who fed on emotion as a food source, referring to the actual feeling itself as it existed as a strange, mystical force, rather than simply feasting on the chemicals that rampaged through someone's neurochemistry when they felt happy. You, in fact, know that emotion was real in a sense that transcended the mundane, integral to everything living, to ponies, to dragons, to diamond dogs to plants, even to rocks in certain circumstances. You saw the world as others saw it, but with an additional layer, one upon which everyone was surrounded by a raging cataclysm of impossible colours that altered and changed according to how they felt, to their state in life. It was a vibrancy and energy that, to you, represented life itself. Now you come across a creature that completely lacked that. It had no such aura of emotion. Indeed, he seemed very much to not even be alive in your eyes because of this. Yet he walked, he talked, he joked and laughed. So you convince yourself that, somehow, he is mimicking these feelings, like an intricately well-crafted magical golem. An automaton of some sort, natural or otherwise, a mockery of intelligent life. Either that or he was hiding it somehow, which only changelings knew how to do, and even then it was imperfect. The creature was, in a very real sense, wrong. Now you see this very same creature display, very evidently, signs of despair and loss, to such a degree it shouldn't have been able to concentrate on maintaining any guise that could hide its feelings. It clearly expressed emotion on its own without concern for anyling watching, but with a complete lack of any accompanying aura. What do you do? Thorax was trying to answer that question to herself when she realized the human had turned and was looking straight at her. There was nothing more unsettling to a changeling than being spotted, despite her hiding place between two trees and underneath a large leafy bush. The human moved first, stumbling to its feet and hurriedly putting its helmet back on. Thorax cursed under her breath. She had been absolutely certain that she had remained quiet and unmoving, yet somehow the human had figured out her spot. "H-How long have you been there?" he asked. His voice was cracked and shaky, yet it made her ears perk up. There was something in his voice that wasn't there any other time she had heard him speak that drew her attention. She waited for a moment thinking, calculating. Automaton or no, the human appeared vulnerable right now. this would be a good opportunity to make up for the previous night's failings. She retained a neutral expression and strode confidently out of the underbrush, green fire washing over her body as she returned to her original form. "Long enough," she said, noticing the human reach for his chest suddenly, grasping something and stuffing it under his armour. Another pendant of sorts, perhaps? "Care to explain?" she probed, hoping that putting the human on the back foot would fish out some information. She had been watching from the inside of her own head as her queen manipulated the human. One thing she learned was to press her advantage with him for as long as she possessed it. And if he turned violent again, she could always take to the air and stay out of his reach. The human remained silent, to her chagrin, and just glared at her from behind the helmet. Another thing which annoyed her, which hadn't existed before, was that she felt something when he looked at her, an odd compulsion to look him in the eye which was absurd, given his eyes were currently covered up. She had thought she was imagining it until he looked away briefly and the feeling disappeared, only to come upon her again when he turned back. 'That’s not something I remember him being able to do,' she thought. 'What the Tartarus happened?' "I... have nothing to explain," Handy said. "Not to you." "Oh I think you do, Heartless," Thorax said sharply, doing an admirable job of remaining stoic. It was somewhat difficult considering the strange, unnerving, new authority the human possessed behind his words, the lethargy from blood loss she was still recovering from, and the general urge to run away or to just jump this ape in the dark and return the favour along with giving him a buck to the side of the head for his sheer audacity. She appeared quite calm and collected all the while. The key word being appeared. "None of your business." "You know, there's little point in trying to hide. I know there's something wrong." 'Come on. Get upset,' she thought to herself, deciding to take a step forward. The human took a step back, his hand clasped around the head of his hammer tightly. 'Good.' "I am warning you," he hissed. Alarm bells rang in Thorax's head, but she pressed on. "If you are worried about the Queen, she is not with us right now," Thorax said. This was a risky play, and she knew it, but if she was right and the Heartless really was no such thing, then that meant he was as vulnerable now as he appeared. Which meant if she played her cards right... "It’s just you and me here," she said, pointing a hoof to the pendant around her own neck. It was dead and lifeless, as the Queen had deactivated her connection for the time being. "I won't tell a soul." "You are a changeling," the human pointed out, "Even if I were to believe you when you said that, Chrysalis can take over your body-" "But not my mind," Thorax said, still with a neutral expression. "I retreat into myself. She can tell me what to say, but not read my thoughts." "Bullshit." "Believe what you like," Thorax said, shrugging, lifting her hooves to her neck. "What are you doing?" "Taking the first step," she said as she lifted the pendant over her neck, holding it out to the human with a hoof. "Now, if you just throw it away, I will go after it. I do need it in order to co-ordinate with the Queen so we can help ensure you fulfil your part of the geas, but..." She cocked her head to the side slightly. "I'm willing to let you control when I get to speak with her Highness." The human stood there for a moment as if deep in thought. In actual fact, from Handy's perspective, he was utterly dumbfounded. There he was, barely a coherent thought in his head, eyes long since dried up and mumbling utter nonsense. His prayers and desperate rationalizations had given away to wordless noise voicing thoughts that had no business being called such. Then, when he finally paid attention to that nagging pinch in his mind and found the changeling staring at him from the underbrush, he had a minor freak out which he managed to smoothly pass off as a mild stumble of surprise, hurriedly putting his helmet back on so she couldn't see the horrified expression on his face. Now here she was, seated before him on her haunches, the woman who the night before he had seriously considered murdering for the sheer pleasure it would have given him. To say he was perturbed that not only was she on her feet almost as if nothing had happened between them, but that she had actively sought him out and was actually calm and business-like in doing so, would be a bit of an understatement. There was no right way to react to that. He did not want to see her at all, for so many reasons. He wanted her gone. And now here she was, trying to bullshit her way into gaining some of his trust... He could only ask himself why? "...No thanks," he said shakily. Her ear twitched but otherwise she didn't move. "I think I'm better off not being anywhere near you, or that God forsaken pendant," he said, pointing at the offending object. "Should've broken it when I had the chance..." "You know I'm going to be following you anyway, right?" she deadpanned. "If you know what’s good for you, you'll do the exact opposite of that," he said, turning away, thereby unknowingly lifting the influence his gaze had on the changeling. He heard the buzz of her wings as she took to the air, landing on the large branch of a nearby tree. "I am trying to work with you here," she coaxed. "You are trying to manipulate me." "By what? Giving you my one means of contacting my Queen? Trying to build up some trust so I can fulfil my mission and ensure you fulfil yours?" she asked, taking flight once more and alighting on another tree. The human ignored her as he tromped off through the forest in a random direction, his pace quick and angry. "Clearly I'm being underhanded here." "Piss. Off," he spat through his teeth. She alighted at another tree. This branch was lower, only several feet above his head. "Clearly I'm not going out of my way or risking anything." The human turned away, and she took flight and alighted upon a large, mouldy, hollowed out, fallen tree beside him. "By all rights, I should jump you in the night and get you back for what you did to me," she hissed. The human recoiled, almost as if physically struck. Thorax blinked behind her eye covers, grinning inwardly. 'Well... that's an interesting reaction.' She kept up the angry visage. The human had stopped now, but he was still looking away, which helped rid herself of the impact of whatever the hell that glare of his was doing before. She pressed the matter. "What?" she asked harshly. "Why'd you stop now?" She took a few steps forward till she was on edge of the fallen tree, less than a metre away from him. He didn't respond. "I'm not going to go away. You will tell me what’s wrong if it’s going to affect the mission." "Stop..." "You ju—" "DO YOU REALISE HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO BE ALIVE!?" Handy exploded. Thorax took several steps back, a hoof raised defensively and her wings splayed, ready to take flight. "How easy it would have been for me to have ended you, then and there?" "You wouldn't have..." "Oh, believe me, little changeling, I would've." "The queen's geas—" "Never mentioned you," Handy interrupted. Thorax bared her own fangs in irritation, her wings twitching, creating an occasional, brief, buzzing noise. The human was glaring at her and she was feeling the full weight of the power behind his gaze and words. If it wasn't for her own hostility towards him, she wasn't sure if she wouldn't have done just as he said and fled. She had never seen the human have this effect before. What changed? Realization hit her, and she felt a chill run down her spine. The queen had briefed her on the human’s abilities as far as she was aware, which basically boiled down to him getting power from blood. Putting two and two together was an uncomfortable revelation. 'I'll be keeping that to myself,' she thought, resolving not to reveal exactly what changeling blood afforded the human. The last thing she wanted him to learn was how useful her blood was. If he could turn that power on an unsuspecting sap... "So that’s why you bit me?" she probed. The human flinched. "What’s wrong? I thought you said you would've killed me?" He looked away and she relaxed a bit as the gaze was taken away from her once more. "I wanted to..." "Why didn't you?" "What are you getting at?" "Why. Didn't. You?" she pressed. The human was visibly shaking, probably from anger, probably from something else. "I had every right," he hissed, "I save you from the pony rangers and then you kidnap me. Have me tortured." "We were just trying to put you under!" "Good fucking job you made out of it." "Alright fine then," Thorax said through her teeth, allowing her own anger to flare. Being a changeling meant she was a master class at controlling her own emotions. She wasn't in any danger of losing control, but a show was a show. She jumped down from the tree and marched right up to Handy. He took several steps back, and drew out the war hammer from the loop in his belt. "Stay back." he said, his voice resounding with that authoritative subtext. She gritted her teeth all the harder and made herself press on. "Kill me then." "I said stay back." "Do it," she said, not slowing down her advance. Handy nearly tumbled over an exposed root as he backtracked. "Either do it or tell me why you didn't if you want me dead so badly." "You kidnapped me!" "And you sucked my bucking blood!" she shouted. "And all I am asking in return," she said, retracting the covers and looking up at the human with her natural eyes for the effect, "is to know what’s wrong." Her voice adopted a calmer tone. 'That’s it,' she thought. The human seemed unsure of himself, his hammer raising and lower at his side by mere inches as he seemingly debated with himself. "No. I don't really care," she said, honestly enough. "Not about you. Not really. I care about my mission, which you are now a part of." She stood at her full height which came to an oh so intimidating three and a half to four feet. Taller, nearing five or above if she reared on her hind legs, sure, but she didn't want to push it. She closed her eyes and sighed. "And if this is going to be a problem," she gestured with a hoof between the two of them, "I want it resolved. Now." "I... I can't. It’s not that simple." "No," she said, nearly snarled. "It isn't. But we're starting somewhere." The human rounded on her, and it was all she could do to not take a step back. "Don't you dictate to me, Thorax," he hissed. He seemed... darker somehow. His armour was dull, a much darker shade all of a sudden. The slit of his helmet seemed to have this subtle, red glow from somewhere beneath the helmet, illuminating the dark fabric that obscured his face. Thorax felt her dermis prick up and down back, a shiver threatening to undo her. She blinked rapidly, shook her head, and looked back up at the human. Nothing. He was still standing there, leaning towards her threateningly, but the illusion was dispelled. 'Was that... how did he...' "I am trying to help you," she managed, regaining her nerve once she rid herself of the illusion. 'Another thing he does not need to know. I don't think that was intentional.' "You are helping yourself!" "Yes! I am! And in order to do that, I have to make sure you don't break down in the middle of a bucking forest over nothing!" she shouted back. The human seemed to slump after a moment's silence. She calculated the effect and let the silence hang a bit longer than necessary. Let him stew on it for a bit. "...It’s not nothing," he protested. She had to resist the urge to smile. "Then what is it?" she asked simply, her expression annoyed and her eyes uncovered. Funny how he was now avoiding looking at her. He didn't reply, not that she expected him to, not right away. After all, this was just about building up trust. Handy started when something hit him in the chest with a metallic clang. The pendant fell to the ground at his feet. "Take it." "I don't want this thing anywhere near me," he said, staring down at it. She allowed herself the indulgence of rolling her eyes. "I don't want you to wear it, idiot. I want you to just hold onto it for me." "Why?" "So we can build up some bucking trust," Thorax said. "I need to communicate with the Queen so we can co-ordinate with the outside in case other changelings find information relevant to our hunt. It’s our one constant relay without trying to find a local cluster or, heaven forbid, a rival colony." "There's more than one group of you?" "What, you didn't think Chrysalis ruled all changelings, did you?" she asked, not bothering to wait for the human to reply. "And I know that wouldn't be acceptable to you if I did try to lead us to more changelings. So, you want to find the Mistress for your own revenge? Fulfil your end of the geas and be free from it?" she asked pointedly, indicating the pendant with her hoof. "There lies our one solid source to a continent wide intelligence network. The Queen couldn't communicate with you when you wore it, but she can with me, which means I need it more than you do," Thorax said, replacing her hoof on the ground. "And I am willing to let you control when I have access to it." "Pick it up, throw it away," she continued, "or bring your hammer down on it and destroy it. You'll only be getting rid of an advantage, and I'll still be right here, following you around, because then I'd be the only way to ensure you get your job done right," she said. The human was clearly thinking about this situation. Time to place some sweetener on the deal. "I won't tell her, you know." The human’s head snapped up. "Of course you will," he practically spat. "No," she said resolutely, "I will not. In fact, that you control my access to the pendant, you can ensure I won't. When I wear it, I need to speak for my Queen to hear what I say, she can speak into my mind, but not read it. You'll know what I say because you'll hear it." "How can I trust you?" "How can I trust you?" Thorax turned the question around. "You've openly admitted thinking about killing me, you fed on me," she said, enjoying the subtle flinches the human gave to those little reminders, "and left me tied up in the wilderness. And here I am, willing to put some trust in you, for the sake of the mission. I think I deserve a little in return, Heartless." "... Handy," he said at length. "And... I swear." He turned to the changeling again. There was that image again, the illusion lurking just beneath the surface. She was ready for it now, knew he could conjure it up somehow. Somehow knowing about it lessened its effectiveness and cohesion, like being aware you were in a dream and watching it melt away around you. "Tell Chrysalis any of what you've seen—" "I won't," she said, "that I promise." Understandably, the human did not want her highness to know him to have any vulnerabilities, none more than she already did of course. Thorax had every intention of keeping that knowledge from her, however. The less she knew, the less she could interfere with Thorax building up the human's trust. The less she interfered due to her ignorance, the more the human would trust her, therefore the more progress they could make on the mission. She had no doubt Chrysalis would like to speak to the human directly again, but she would do so unknowing of what had transpired between the two of them this morning. She glanced down at the pendant, still lifeless and dead. It had been a hell of a gamble – had Chrysalis popped in at any point while they were talking, this entire exercise might have been for nought. Eventually, finally, Handy bent down, his eyes on Thorax, as he lifted up the pendant again. Opening up a pouch at his waist, he dropped it into the pack he carried at his side, right beside the forgotten painted leaf the griffon child had given him. "Now," Thorax began, "what happened back there? Why did I find you on your knees?" "I... I was... Nothing." "That was not nothing." "Just never mind..." "No, I won't. I put my trust in you. Will you not give me at least a little good faith in return?" she asked, looking up at him harshly. He looked at her, again that unnerving feeling hitting her. Okay, you know how changelings can visibly see and taste emotions? It was not uncommon for a stare filled with emotion to have a pronounced effect on them. As previously mentioned, Handy was a dead zone in that regard, so his glare having an effect in spite of this was like walking into a pitch black room yet being able to see everything clearly as if the darkness was brighter than any light. It was just... wrong. However, she couldn't dwell on that now, couldn't allow herself to react. She needed this human to trust her, and that meant not revealing what power he currently held that affected her. Not right now anyway. She had been working him over for a good hour now, doing her damnedest to get this creature to open up to her enough to edge her way in. To get him talking. If she could only just get him to trust her enough that they could work together and not have him out her as a changeling at the first opportunity he got, then she could go further. A plan formed in her mind, of possibilities, of lies that she might have to say, but if she was right, she could get this human as an asset for the kingdom’s use for far longer than just this mission. It’d just take some investment. But all of that was speculative and hinged upon the here and now. All she needed was a hoof in the door… Handy looked at the ground, searching. It was some time before he said anything. “Shame…,” he said at last. She perked up, but didn’t speak, letting the word hang and forcing the human to follow up on it. “It… I was overcome by shame. Alright?” he said. She smiled a reassuring smile that she wore in place of victorious grin she honestly felt like showing. Still, she had an inclination that he was not telling her everything but it was a start. “Shame over what?” she asked. The human just glared at her for a long, painful moment. “This does not leave this forest. Am I understood,” he said between deep breaths. It wasn’t a question. She paused for effect before nodding. He let out a breath. “Your Queen… Chrysalis. She was right… about me, I mean.” “What? That you’re like us?” she asked. The human looked at her, causing her ear to flick in agitation. “I may not be able to speak to her when she controls me, but I can see and hear just fine, Handy.” “No… not quite.” He looked away. She couldn’t make out all of what he said next, for he said it more through mumble than speech. “…worse…” “I’m sorry?” "Look just, I'll tell you about it some other time," the human said, shifting uncomfortably. "It... It won't happen again." "Are you sure?" Thorax asked sternly. Handy nodded once. "It had better not," she said, relenting on pressing the matter. She'd get him to open up eventually. Pushing too hard would likely force him to clam up, and she had done this enough times before to know when to push her advantage and when to back off. "So," she said, continuing, sitting down on her haunches and looking about disinterestedly, “where are we going?" "I... I thought about just wandering until I find a river. Rivers usually lead to civilization." He still hadn't put his hammer away, but at least it wasn't held ready to strike anymore. 'Progress,' Thorax noted. "I don't hear any running water." The human nodded. "I don't hear much of anything. Except the wind," he said. "Chrysalis mentioned these might be the Greenwoods. What do you know about them?" Thorax shrugged. "Not much more than any other ling. It’s ruled by the deer and big enough to be its own country. Probably is one too. Ponies and griffons generally avoid it." "Why?" "Because the deer make them," she said. "We've never had much luck infiltrating it. Changelings who manage to latch on to deer who venture outside of the forest and get in that way are never heard from again. Or at least if they are, the other colonies aren't sharing what they found." "So... what? If you get out of here, that makes you the first changeling to do so?" "Yes, now you can see why I am so eager to get you out of your state," Thorax said, giving the human an unamused expression, "The ratio of changelings going into this forest alone and coming out is not exactly stellar. I'd like to stack the odds in my favour." It was a half-truth but hey, it was just selfish enough that the human might buy it. "I'm not exactly a deer either," Handy said. "I'm not likely guaranteed to get out either." "Better than nothing." She spread her wings and took to the air, alighting on a high branch to look around. "I can't see too far!" she shouted down to him. "The haze gets too thick about forty hooves out!" When the human didn't respond, she looked down, to find him staring up at her. She sighed. "Oh for God's sake, I'm just trying to help!" "It’s not that…” "Then what is it!?" she asked irritably. There was silence for a moment before he responded. "How far is forty hooves?" Thorax blinked before running a hoof down her face. The next ten minutes consisted of Thorax teaching the human the exact measurements of a 'hoof', which amounted to three quarters of a foot in human terms, roughly equating forty hooves with thirty feet. Handy explained his confusion, much to Thorax's relief, confirming he wasn't an uneducated idiot, merely raised to teach of the world in radically different measurements. And so finally, after all of that, she felt like they were actually getting somewhere. --=-- They were getting absolutely nowhere. Handy was understandably frustrated, even more so because he couldn't really blame either himself or the damn changeling. Let us take a step back for a moment. As it stood, Handy had a few more hours remaining on his high, meaning he could tell where Thorax was in relation to him and her state of being. Neat, right? Know what was not neat? Knowing she was behind him, turning a bend in the forest and then bumping into her from behind as if she had been ahead of him, with his supernatural sense doing a complete one eighty about where she was in relation to him only when he had bumped into her. It was like getting whiplash for your hippocampus. And nothing else. Needless to say, they got a good scare out of the first time that occurred. By the third, it was getting old. Thorax took to the trees to avoid the issue, but this only served to make the problem worse. Handy continued on the ground and got subjected to occasional bouts of dizziness when suddenly Thorax would disappear from one direction above him, materializing elsewhere without a second passing in between. He cursed, eventually electing to just stand still and let Thorax wander on ahead. Sure enough, after a while, her signal disappeared and rematerialized behind him. He groaned in frustration and turned around to see a very alarmed and confused Thorax hovering in place a foot away from him, looking behind her and back again, trying to figure out how in the hell the human had gotten ahead of her so quickly. He didn't. It was when they had passed the same tree stump for the fourth time that they started arguing. "My fault!?" "Yes! I've been following you!" Thorax shouted. "I've been leading only after you pointed out the way from the trees! "Well how do you explain the fact we've been going in circles!?" she accused, pointing a holed hoof at the fallen tree. "I don't know, you've been leading the way for the past hour!" "Only because you keep sneaking up on me!" "You are a changeling! You are literally the sneakiest thing!" "Well maybe it’s because I can't sense you, remember? Hmm?" "That’s no excuse for you to be zipping all over the place while up above and giving me a migraine trying to follow you!" Handy shouted, gesturing at her with his hand. "I've been doing no such thing!" "Yes you have! You even doubled back on yourself! I caught you flying up behind me!" "I didn't! I mean, I wasn't! I was flying straight ahead! You– You teleported or something!" "Now you're being ridiculous!" "Grarrrgh!" Thorax said, vocalizing her frustration as she trotted off before sitting down on her haunches, facing away from Handy. The human threw his hands up and sat back against the tree stump. They sat in silence for a while, Handy taking off his helmet to rub his face. His head was foggy, as if it was filled with cotton, and it was an effort to think clearly. He idly scratched his wrist. Frowning, he looked it over again. Sure enough, he had a rash, a bad one by the looks of it. His vampiric healing was doing nothing for it either. He needed the salve, wanted it. That would calm him down, help him think more clearly, help him sleep tonight. It would stop the itch and heal the rash. It would feel good. Why didn't he have it out already? He fumbled at the pack by his side. Sure enough, he felt a bit of warmth. The pendant was active. Well, Thorax didn't need to know that, did she now? He kept quiet about that as he rooted around but failed to find the bottle he was after. Maybe it was in Crimson's saddleba—"Thorax." "What," she said harshly. "Where'd you leave your saddlebags?" "Oh gee," Thorax said, "I must've forgotten to take them with me, what with being tied up this morning and all. How absentminded of me; not as if I had other things to worry about or anything." "This is important!" Handy said, suddenly standing up, patting down his sides, the small pouches hanging off of his belt, checking over his side pack again. "What's the problem?" she asked. "You looking for your little... medicine capsule?" she said with a touch of venom. Handy stopped to glare at her for a moment. "No. Salve." "Why, you hurt?" "No. Yes. Sort of. Don't question me! Have you seen it!?" "I packed it the other day," Thorax said, eyeing the human curiously. "But I haven't seen it since." "The packs travelled with us, they were by the... the tree..." "Oh, well, good luck finding that place again, Thorax said, rolling her eyes. "I need to find it," he said, hurrying off. "Hey... Hey wait!" Thorax shouted after him, her wings buzzing as she followed in his wake. "Stop, you're just going to get lost!" "I'm already lost." "My point exactly!" Thorax said, flying in front of him to stop him. "You're hardly going to be finding it again. You can get more when we get out of here," she reasoned. Handy scratched the back of his neck, fidgeting. "... I uh, actually can't." "Why?" "It's not exactly... legal," he confessed. Thorax glared at him levelly. "I thought it was some kind of magical healing potion?" "It is!" Handy protested. "Then why would it be illegal?" 'Good question,' Handy thought, idly scratching his wrist again. "It's a tad addictive," he explained. Thorax eyed his wrist. "I see," she said. She was thinking to herself when the human suddenly turned, stiffened, and looked off into the distance. "Listen, human, you shoul—" "Shh!" "Don't shush me!" "Shhhh!" he hissed, putting his hand up. "Listen, do you hear that?" Thorax paused, perking her ears up. She was so caught up in the moment that she hadn't been paying attention to anything else. They listened for a moment, trying to hear anything past the constant rush of wind and shaking foliage. Then they heard it clearly: the sound of rushing water crashing upon rocks. "A river!" she exclaimed. "Get in the trees, see if you can spot it.” She wasted no time as she went to do just that, buzzing away to the higher branches as Handy tried following the noise on the ground. Five minutes into the search and Thorax did her routine again, appearing one place above him, then another. He gritted his teeth and bared with the agitation. He only had a few more hours of the high left; he could last that long. For now, he focused on following the noise. It got louder and louder as he pushed through thickening trees and bushes, climbing over immense, exposed roots as he made his way towards it. Thorax was somewhere behind him now, but he didn't care, she could catch up. Pushing forward out past one last copse of trees, these ones noticeably thinner and smaller than the giants that dominated the forest, he was rewarded with his prize. It was a relatively large river, easily ten to fifteen feet across that flowed gently, the water level with the ground he stood on. It was the sheer immensity of the water being moved that caused the noise. He smiled widely. Finally, some fucking progress. "Thorax!" he called, turning to face into the forest. She called back; he felt her presence close by. "Found the river!" he shouted as the wind picked up behind him. He kept facing the forest and calling out to the changeling, helping her follow his voice. She eventually emerged from the forest, seemingly haggard. "Where've you been!?" she exclaimed. Handy frowned. "I just followed the noise of the river." "Yeah, I know, so have I! I lost you for an hour!" she said. Her eyes were covered over. "...I've only been separated from you for about fifteen minutes." Thorax tried to laugh but decided it would be better to try breathing regularly again. "Look, just... whatever. Where's the river?" she asked, looking about. Handy gave her a curious look from behind his helm before turning and gesturing with his hand. "What? Are you blind? It’s right.... here..." He turned to see what had once been a river was now a very deep ravine. He stood at the edge of it, looking down into the darkness below. The sound of moving water was still present but much more distant now. Handy's eyes widened, and a slight chill ran down his spine. "What in the fuh..." Thorax sighed. "Well, I was looking forward to a drink...," she said, lying on the ground and kicking a stone with her forehoof. The pebble fell off the edge and disappeared into the abyss below. "I suppose we can still follow it. Can you tell what direction its flowing?" "Impossible," the human breathed shakily. "Or you know, completely blow off my reasonable question. That's cool too," she said, placing her head on her hooves. The wind was blowing fiercely now, following the path of the ravine. With no trees to break it, the wind was funnelled and magnified in strength. Handy fumed, refusing to accept he had just imagined a massive river and completely missed the gigantic fault in the earth that lay before him now. Thorax was saying something but he was not listening. He took a step back from the edge of the ravine. "Not possible," he said. "I dunno, a break might actually be a good thing. You sure you're feeling alright?" she asked. "Wait here," he said, stepping back from the changeling and the ravine. Thorax groaned in frustration but was reluctant to get up. "Handy, wait, we're gonna get split up again,” she said, lazily getting to her hooves. He didn't respond and turned around. And almost stumbled off the edge of a ravine. He caught himself with a start, his boot crunching the edge of the ravine, clay and stones tumbling away into nothingness as his arms spread wide for balance. His mind struggled to rationalize what had just happened. He stepped back slowly, turning to look behind him. The forest stood silent and immutable behind him, right where the ravine should've been. He turned back, disbelievingly to look at the ravine, then back again. Then he looked up to the other side of the ravine after hearing his name being called. Thorax was over there, back to the ravine and shouting after him into the forest. "T-Thorax?" he called. She didn't respond. "Thorax!" She turned, and her jaw fell open. "What? How did you—" "Thorax, stay there!" he yelled, holding his hand up "Just stay there!" His mind raced, possibilities building on possibilities. None of this was possible; none of it could be possible. Not without magic. But if it was magic, why wasn't his armour reacting? Unless... 'I'm going mad.' The thought came unbidden. Perhaps he had been leading them in circles, perhaps he was gone an hour when he had thought he spent fifteen minutes, perhaps he did just imagine the river in place of the ravine. The alternative didn't bear thinking about. Now thoroughly spooked, he backed away again, this time keeping Thorax and the ravine in his sights. "Hang on!" she shouted, spreading her wings and taking flight, only to be blown back to the ground by the wind, digging her hooves in to prevent being blown away completely and off into the ravine. "S-Stay there!" Handy shouted. "I'll come to you!" 'If I don't completely lose myself first...' Thorax protested something, but he didn't hear her over the wind. He'd find her, he was sure of it, so long as he did so within the next few hours. He felt two new tugs on his mind, two new sensations, and he felt a rising, inexplicable panic. Looking up at her, Thorax's ears perked up as she turned around, looking into the forest. At the last moment, he saw green flame consume her as she adopted her Crimson disguise once more. She shouted into the forest before turning back to Handy, shouting at him again. But it was too late. He had already fled into the forest's embrace. --=-- His head swam, the trees blurring one after another as he passed them. He didn't meet the ravine again, nor Thorax. He didn't care if he passed by the same thing twice or thrice – he could no longer tell. His breathing was deep and heavy, his palms sweating, and a creeping, oppressive, paranoid fear grabbed him, refusing to let go, growing more and more intense the longer he ran. There was nothing ahead of him but the endless forest, masked as it was by the haze that had not let up during the entire day. The identical trees, the anonymous flora of the forest floor, the treachery of exposed roots and the omnipresent darkness of the canopy above, the howling, unceasing wind, and the false stars that permitted the sunlight to invade this forbidden realm of lifelessness and growing madness. He tried to get a hold of himself, he really did. Reminding himself he was not in the best of mental states to begin with, that he was overreacting. There had to be a cause, a reason for the events. Sorcery, some kind of trickery perhaps, something. The changeling blood, maybe it was a hallucinogenic? Was that a thing? Yeah that was it, it had to be it. That would explain everything! 'Then how did it get you from one side of the ravine to the other?' he asked himself. He chose to ignore the question, preferring the illusion of having an actual reason instead of questioning it. He did not know how long he was lost. The feeling of sensing Thorax grew progressively weaker, to the point where he could no longer sense her again. His stomach growled, the vampiric suppression of his metabolism wearing off, his tired body demanding food. Actual, physical food. He was thankful for that, for he wouldn't need to worry about his other hunger bothering him for a week now. That brief reassurance was quashed as the realization of it crushed the mental crutch that was his excuse of blaming the changeling blood for hallucinating things. He was still lost, his head still feeling as if it was full of wool. There was a growing ringing in his ears, and the very world seemed to shake as he stumbled. He clutched his head as he fell to one knee, his heart beating a mile a minute, desperately willing the world to stop moving as he reached and groped for anything that made sense, screwing his eyes shut. "Stop...," he whispered, the spinning sensation only increasing. He swayed, putting a hand on the ground to steady himself as the ringing in his ears increased in pitch and volume. "Just stop." And just like that, it did. The ringing ceased, dying off and disappearing, as if retreating away into the distance. The world became more stable, spinning less and less and... then he heard it. It was brief, close yet distant. As if he were in one room and the child to whom the laughter belonged stood in another next to him. He started, and his fist clenched, grabbing a handful of gravel on the ground beneath him where once there had been dirt. He opened his eyes slowly. The world still seemed to sway and shift but that mattered very little in comparison to what he saw now. The forest had given way to a road. It was a long, wide, winding path paved with gravel and small stones, bordered with uneven rocks demarcating it from the steep inclines on either side, leading up to the impenetrable forests either side of him. Mist seeped among the trees, strange shapes and forms winking in and out of existence but never spilling over down into the road below. The trees soared high above him like buildings, still and peaceful. The wind, for once, was missing. The trees reached towards one another and came together in an arc above him, the canopy's false starlight peppering the ground with tiny orange sunspots in the dying light of the evening. But the road. The road was clear, stretching off into the distance and disappearing briefly as it dipped before climbing a distant hill. On and on it stretched, never obscured by haze or mist, no tree blocking its path. "W-What?" Handy breathed, turning around. Behind him, the road stretched on much as it did before him, onwards, leading into eternity. "I-I don't... I don't..." A flurry of whispers caught his attention, and he spun back around, fist clasped firmly by his waist around the head of his hammer. Nothing. No one was there. There was nothing but the road. Everything else was mist and trees and lies. He stood stock still, his head still feeling full and uncomfortable. The world swayed this way and that, as if he were on a boat at sea. The whispering became more prominent, though still he could not pin its source. Perhaps he should... follow the road. "I... I don't..." It was the only way. Everything else would only get him lost. "I shouldn't..." He shook his head, looking up the banks on either side. Distant chuckles and snippets of conversations he could not hear fluttered on the periphery of his hearing. Follow the road, Handy. "But..." One step in front of the other. Roads lead to home. Don't you want to go home, Handy? "No... No, I do!" he said to no one, for no one was there. The whispering increased but became more unintelligible. He tore off his helmet, rubbing a gauntleted hand through his hair then over his face. "I just... W-What...?" Don't block the road, Handy. It’s rude. Others need to use it. You should move on. He shook his head. There was a shout from somewhere behind him, sudden and forceful. Just as it came, it left, leaving an echo and the sound of chuckling children that died away. He glared into the distance behind him, seeing nothing but more of the road. Go one way, or go another. "What was that?" he called fearfully. "Who was that!?" Don't block the road, Handy. "What's...? What is...?" he tried to say, turning around and taking one step forward. The whispering eased, becoming quieter, gentler. He still could not make out what they were saying, as if he were in a hushed room where everyone spoke through the collars of their jackets. Follow the road, Handy. He took another step. There was another chuckle of a child, and the whispers quietened. The world still swayed. The road appeared to move and stretch. "W-What...?" There is nothing but the road. "That's not—" It'll take you home. You're safe here. "That's..." Stay on the road. His eyes grew distant. It became harder to think. His arms lay limply at his sides, his helmet held onto by only two fingers of his left hand. He took another step. "Handy?" The voice cut through his fatigue like a hot knife. He blinked rapidly and spun on his heels, almost tripping over himself to face the source. Up in the trees of the bank to his right, there was a golden glow obscured by the thick fog. A silhouette stood beneath it, moving closer, bringing the light with it. He recognised the voice from... somewhere, but for the life of him, he could not place it. Follow the road, Handy. "W-Who... what?" he called intelligently, blinking. "I'm... I'ma... I need to..." Follow the road. "Follow the road...," he said. The form by the trees seemed to stop in its tracks, no longer making its way towards Handy. "Handy. Come here. You need to come over here, right now." Don't leave the road, Handy. "I can't... I need to stay... on the road." "Get off the road, Handy," the voice said sternly. It wasn't shouting; rather, it was a calm, measured voice. The kind one would use to reassure a grieving relative. Follow the road Handy. He took another step. The whispers increased; he heard individual voices now. "Handy!" the voice of the light bearer shouted. Handy stopped. The whispers increased and he gritted his teeth in pain. Don't block the road Handy. "O-Others... need to use the road... too..." "Get off the road!" the voice shouted. Follow the road, Handy. There was a sound of horses whinnying. Handy boggled. Ponies? What were ponies doing out here? He turned. The failing light made it difficult to see but there was definitely... something coming up the road behind him. He heard the jostling wood of a wheeled carriage at speed and the distant, heavy, clop of hooves crunching gravel under them. A black carriage barrelled down the road towards him. The large, earth sized equines at its fore bore no resemblance to the ponies of this world. The lack of flesh kind of ruined any comparison for starters. "What... What the hell?" Stay on the road, Handy. "Handy! You need to get off the road, right now!" Do not listen to the liar. He is from beyond the road. "Listen to me!" The road is all there is. "You need to listen to me!" Everything else is lies. "Handy!" Stay on the road. The carriage drew closer, black smog following in its wake, obscuring all light as it drew closer. Both it and the horses drawing it towered over Handy even though it was still a great distance away. Something was driving it – he could not make it out – but the sight of it shot fear through his heart. He took a step to the side of the road. No. "Yes! Come closer!" the voice shouted, sounding overjoyed. "Wh-What is that thing!?" the human shouted. He drew his hammer on instinct but the action felt futile. He was hearing shouts now, the whispers louder than a storm, threatening to overcome him. Stay on the road, Handy. "Never mind that now, come along! You're almost there!" the voice shouted, barely heard above the roar of the unintelligible noise and the shrieks of the oncoming carriage. It was closer now, too close, traveling at a speed that no carriage had any business moving at. His feet felt as if they were connected to the ground, his body almost refused to obey him. Stay on the road, Handy. He fell over onto the ground, his helmet bouncing away from him, rolling to the edge of the road. He scrambled, the shock of the fall seemingly wakening his body to the very real danger. Stay on the road. "NO!" he roared, getting to his feet just long enough to leap over the edge of the road. The carriage thundered past him. He dared not look back at it as he felt it disturb the air as it passed as well as the sensation of something swinging out and missing his leg by a mere inch. He heard an awful, unnatural, piercing scream that would likely haunt his memories for some time. But right now, he was busy landing. Thankfully, there was something large and fuzzy to break his fall. That went by the name of Whirlwind. The human barrelled into the stag, and the two went sprawling, tumbling into the underbrush one over the other until the crashed, bodily, into a tree. "Well!" Whirlwind chirped, lying back first against the crumpled form of the terribly distressed and discombobulated human, his antlers glowing faintly along their carved contours. "That was fun, buuuut for your sake, let’s not do that again, alright? Alright! Glad we had this talk." "What..." Handy pushed himself, and by extension, the deer, up until he was on his knees. "What the fuck was that?" he said, his voice shaky, as his head cleared and the full reality of what he just experienced dawned on him. "What the actual fuck was that!?" "Hm? What was what?" Whirlwind asked amiably, getting to his own hooves and dusting off his chest fur. Handy grabbed him by the antlers and made him face him. He blinked in surprise as he stared into the manic eyes of the human. "Do not fuck around with me on this!" Handy yelled, putting the question of where the hell the deer had come from behind much more pressing concerns. Like confirming whether or not he was going mad. "What was that!? All of that? T-The forest getting us lost, separating me and Thorax for an hour when it only felt like fifteen minutes, the rav-river, the ravine! I just... I just turned around and then I was on the other side! As if… As if I... I just appeared there or something! That is not possible. I cannot do that, not while wearing this," he said, banging a fist on his chest plate. "And…" he took in a breath, almost painfully "…the road, what... what was that!? What is the road!?" The stag opened his mouth to interrupt a few times before closing it again, seeing the desperation in the human's eyes and considering his words. "I don't know," he said. Handy shook his antlers violently in frustration, eliciting a yelp from the deer. "What do you mean you don't know!?" "Handy that's enough!" Whirlwind shouted, shaking his head and dislodging the human's grip. Handy grunted as he was forced against the tree behind him by the stag's foreleg. "Listen to me! You need to calm down." "Calm? Calm!?" Handy laughed, more than a tinge of hysteria present in his voice. "What is there to be calm about!?" he shouted, clutching his hair with his free, unarmoured hand. "Look!" Whirlwind pointed to the forest around them. "And listen. Just listen!" "To what!? There's nothing to listen... to listen... to..." Handy petered off as he heard it. An animal call. Bird song. Movement of bushes and all the ambience that had been missing since he arrived in this forest. It wasn't just the signs of life that drew his attention. Everything seemed different. The towering trees no longer seemed as menacing, and the foliage and the bushes of the forest floor seemed more vibrant somehow, more full of life, even in the dying light of the evening. There was no longer an ever-present haze that obscured the distance, allowing him to see much farther and far clearer than before. Handy's breathing slowed as his mind slowed down to try to process this. It was an almost alien experience to what the forest was before, and he could not be certain he wasn't transported somewhere else altogether. "What?" he managed, backing up against the tree, as if he could hide from the world behind its bark. "W-What is this?" "The Greenwoods. The real Greenwoods. Relax, you're safe," Whirlwind said, eyeing the human cautiously and taking a step back. Handy snapped his attention back to him. "Safe? Safe?" Handy hissed. Whirlwind held up his forehooves defensively. "Hey! Hey now! Easy!" he said. "Easy! Look." He jerked his head to gesture behind him. Handy tore his attention away from his face long enough to look over his shoulder, at the copse of trees and the small clearing behind it, nothing more remarkable than a lonely dead bush to be seen. Certainly not a road. "W-Where... where did the road go?" Handy asked softly, staring at the area. The stag looked at him for a while, considering his words. "There is no road." Handy turned to him and was about to reach out to grab him before Whirlwind took another step back. "Listen! Look! I was being honest. I don't know what that was. What that really was. Nodeer does. I just know I can't protect you and the others from it so long as it’s still in your mind." Handy had so many questions to ask about that. His mouth opened and closed several times trying to give word to his thoughts, but in the end he just... didn't. He was exhausted and just... he needed to rest. "Is... is it all in my head?" he asked as he was seated against the tree, with his knees drawn up, cradling his head in his hands. Normally he would never dream of allowing himself to be caught in such a position by anyone, but he had long since run out of fucks to give in that regard. "Was that real? Was any of that real?" "...It was and it wasn't." "What kind of answer is that!?" Handy snapped. "The only one I have!" Whirlwind protested. "If... you want. And I mean really want to, I can bring you to my grandfather. He's an elder; he could explain it better to you. It’s just... we're not supposed to let outsiders remain in the forest. Much less bring them to our homes." Handy didn't reply. "But for now I need you to say there is no road." "What good would that do? It’s real. Wishing it away won't make it unreal." "But it'll keep it away from you. I need to hear this from you, human." Only now did the human really take note of how his antlers were glowing, emitting faint golden light from the swirling carvings all along its lengths and many spikes. "I... It’s... not real?" "There is no road," Whirlwind repeated. Handy looked at him for a long moment. "There... There is no road." "Is there?" Whirlwind asked, looking sideways at the human. "...No. No there is not," Handy said. And just like that, the warm, jovial smile returned to Whirlwind's face. "Alright then!" he said, hopping back to his hooves. "Well, all that unpleasantness aside, we're alive!" he exclaimed, standing on his rear hooves, forelegs spread wide as he let himself fall back on bed of flowers on the undergrowth. Handy blinked. Flowers. He hadn't seen a single flower since he arrived here. Now that he looked properly, the ground was practically covered in them, which just didn't make sense for another reason altogether. Wasn't it autumn, with winter was on its way? "I mean, for a second there, I was worried that pony would completely crush us. You know, having sent you and Jacky to la-la land there several hours early." For the second time, Handy blinked. Whirlwind suddenly transplanted himself from the ground to leaning back against the tree at Handy's side, waving a foreleg around as he blathered on. That one could go from a life-or-death situation involving some pretty fucking sketchy horseshit to joyful and talkative at the flip of a switch was jarring to witness, to say the least. Handy shot up to his feet instantly. "Where ya going?" "Nowhere just... just don't do that. Not right now," Handy said, thoroughly shaken. He really didn't need more surprises right now. "Just... Where did you come from? H-How did you find me? How did we get here?" Handy asked, and just like that, the questions came like a torrent of water from a burst dam, his mind eager to find something else, anything else to focus on. Whirlwind, for his part, happily indulged the human's little inquisition, unfazed by the occasional threatening tone he took on as he paced back and forth. It was as if he knew Handy was just working off his anxiety. To be fair, that wasn't hard to guess as he constantly wringed his hands, scratched his left wrist, and generally gave off signs of progressive and excessive agitation. Apparently, the answer to how he found him was 'because he was a deer', as if that was supposed to actually answer the question. Same thing to why the forest seemed so alive now when it hadn't before. So that was also how Handy got the low down of how they got here, namely magical transportation via a crystal that the deer had smashed underfoot. Which just raised more questions. Did the sorcerer do something to his armour? How the hell was he transported at all while he was wearing it? Had the damage it sustained ruined whatever effect counteracted magic? Idly, he found a sunny spot on the ground as the deer blathered on and placed his foot on the ground. Sure enough, when the light hit the metal of his armoured boot, it lit up like a magnesium flare, and he had to shield his eyes and turn away, removing his foot from the spot. "–So we were like, 'Oh hey, that sure is a big ravine. How did he get all the way over there?' Oh, which reminds me, where did you get that crystal again?" "What?" Handy asked, distracted. Mission accomplished in that respect at least. He was going to need quite a bit of time alone to just sit and... process the sheer fuckery that was this day. But in the meantime? Making sure he didn't lose it was the bigger concern. That meant taking the deer at his word about quite a bit. At least for now. "The little crystal," Whirlwind said, holding up his hooves to indicate the size of said crystal. "Clear, had this yellow cylinder in the centre." Although he still had that gentle smile, there was a curious, hard glint to his eyes at odds with his relaxed posture. Handy considered making up a story about how he had come into possession of some kind of super magic crystal capable of warping them to the middle of the forest of 'fuck-you-and-the-horse-you-rode-in-on' in order to hide his connection to the witch. But as previously stated, he honestly couldn't give a fuck right then. "A witch gave it to me at the festival," Handy said. "Griffon, said something about mists. I gave it to Tho– Crimson, to hold onto. I don't know who the witch was or why she gave it to me, nor where it came from. I assume thou wouldst know?" Handy’s voice was still shaky but recovered enough to at least put on his airs. 'Keep the mask. Keep it on. Something to focus on. Keep focused...' Whirlwind seemed to study the human for a bit, his expression unchanging. Then he let out a sigh and rolled to his hooves. "Nope!" he exclaimed. "Just wondering. Now come on, the others are waiting just a ways over there," Whirlwind said, practically bounding off into the forest. Handy waited for a moment before following, taking in the forest all around him. He turned back to look at the clearing where, logically he had to have been standing when that... when that thing almost ran him down. When he was on the road that... was no longer there. If it was ever there to begin with. Thinking about it only raised a clammy, paranoid fear that slowly gripped his chest, forcing him to shake his head and turn away. "There is no road...," he repeated, walking off into the forest after the stag. "There is no road." --=-- "Crimson, catch." "Wha– AH!" 'Crimson' flinched, screwing her eyes shut and raising a hoof to her chest defensively. Her horn lit up a green colour, trying to catch the object currently flying her way. There was a tremendously bright flash, signalling her failure and spelling her doom as the silvered steel helmet clonked her on the head, sending her sprawling in a daze. She got back to her hooves, cursing and glaring at the human as he strolled casually over to pick up the fallen helmet. "What the Tartarus was that for!?" she demanded. "Just testing something," Handy said. His face bore a thoughtful expression as he lifted the helmet, looking into its 'face'. His attention was drawn to his left as the familiar voice of Jacques could be heard humming something unforgivably French-sounding as he returned to the little camp. "If it makes you feel any better... Jacques, think fast." "Que?" he said as he emerged from behind a large tree, eyes widened, horn alight to catch the offending helmet, only to be blinded for his trouble and then received a welt on the side of his head as he dazedly tried to keep on his hooves after it connected. The helmet bounced and rolled back to the human's feet as Crimson broke out into a laugh as Jacques let loose a flurry of incredibly sophisticated sounding expletives that meant nothing to the human who had only a vague passing understanding of French. "Yes yes, sorry," Handy said absent-mindedly, dusting off the helmet, thinking deeply as he ignored the unicorn's protests. Thorax said something to him and soon the two were engaged in conversation. Whirlwind was busy stoking the fire with a branch when Handy decided to go for one last throw. "Whirlwind, head's up." Whirlwind turned around, eyes wide and curious, branch still held in his muzzle. He turned his head and caught the helmet on an antler. It proceeded to glow faintly as it settled on his horns. "Hey– Hey! Did I win?" he asked brightly, dropping the branch. Handy looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before smiling lightly. "Yes, thou hast. Well done," he said as the stag threw the helmet back to him with a cheer before turning back to the fire. Handy was more than happy to leave fire duties to anybody else and walked off, slinking down and sitting upon a log with his back to the fire, studying the helmet in his hands. The four of them had been reunited for at least an hour now and had been filled in by Whirlwind's series of events, which Jacques swore was more exaggerated than the first time he heard. Now they shared the common goal of getting out as soon as possible, Jacques because he would prefer not having to spend the rest of his life in this godforsaken forest, paid to follow Whirlwind around or not, Handy for the same reasons. Also, he had a mite bit of terrible vengeance he wished to unleash upon a certain Mistress. 'Crimson', because, of course, she was the knight's servant and would follow him and had no ulterior motives whatsoever. Whirlwind? Well he was just an honest-to-God adventurer and didn't like being stuck in one place for too long. "So what was that about?" Thorax asked. He turned to look at her. Despite being framed in shadow as she was, the fire highlighting her and sharpening the shadow, she dropped her disguise enough for her chartreuse eyes to show through instead of Crimson's green ones. Jacques was busy sharpening his sword with a whetstone while talking to the ever cheerful Whirlwind as he cooked... something over the flames. "Trying to determine if my armour was broken," Handy said, knocking on his helmet with his fist, "Turns out it’s not." She looked at him, eyeing the rent in his back and other damaged parts of his armour. "It has seen better days," she said, glancing behind her at the other two. "You said it wouldn't be a problem." "What?" "You broke down. Again," she said, turning back to him. "You said it wouldn't be a problem." He looked at her hard for a moment before responding. "I take it you've talked to Whirlwind about how he found me?" "He said you were in hysterics." "...I nearly was." "If we don't solve this right now, I'm—" "He didn't tell you what left me in hysterics, did he?" Handy interrupted. Thorax bit her tongue. "There's something... wrong about this forest. You saw me at the ravine. There was no way I could've gotten across it in an instant. You remember being lost? Going around in circles?" "...The Greenwoods is hardly the only magical forest, Heartless." "It’s the first thing I came across that can get past my armour without it so much as making it sparkle. And I... saw something that almost..." He trailed off. "Almost what?" Thorax pressed. "...Nothing. I'll tell you later. When we're not in the forest anymore." She sighed. "Must you be impossible?" "Must you be impatient? Relax, we have someone who can guide us out now. We'll be fine." Sure enough, as he said that, there was a clatter and a crash and Whirlwind started running around in circles with his flank on fire. Jacques had a resigned expression on his face and gave the two a small, apologetic smile as he removed his cloak, tackled the deer, and began smothering the fire out with practiced ease. "... Mostly." She gave him a wry look. "...And food?" she asked after a bit. "I'm sure we can find something to eat tomorrow." "You know what I mean, Handy," she said, watching the shenanigans with an amused mask. Handy gave her a stony look before turning back around. "Whirlwind knows what I am. He saw me feed. Safe to assume Jacques knows now too." He paused. "I won't be... I won't be doing that again anytime soon." Her ear perked and rotated towards him. "Won't that weaken you if you don't?" "I don't care. I'm... not going to do it again. I'm not going to be feeding from my traveling companions. Is that clear?" he said quietly. Thorax kept her eyes on the stag and stallion across the fire from her as the pair began bickering, particularly lingering on the unicorn. Her eyes briefly flashed a bright green as they returned to Crimson's eyes. "Crystal."