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// Where There's Smoke 
// Story: The Substitute Demon 
// by Reykan 
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	Father. Blur, the little yellow mare he'd found to be so undyingly loyal, had called him her father. Not only that, but she'd apparently viewed him as such for a while now, possibly from the incident in the ritual room. The mare had willingly housed a changeling despite the fears most had of the bug-ponies, and now that he thought about it, she'd almost called him such just as they'd left. In hindsight, there wasn't much else he could imagine she'd almost said besides father. Was he worthy of such a title? Ted didn't think so, but that would not stop him from doing his damn best to fill that role.

A father guides, a father protects, a father comforts, a father provides.

He already did these things, and while he felt that he still fell short of the title, he would do all in his power to rise to the level his ponies needed him to reach. So he picked up the weeping Pegasus, and carried her down to the ocean. He washed the blood from their fur, and hummed a soothing lullaby, one his mother had whispered to him so long ago. The words were lost to him, but in the memory was love, and in the melody was peace. Sure that he'd done all he could, and reasonably certain he'd calmed himself down as well, he set the mare on the ground amid the gathered ponies, before mindlessly looting the bodies. 
It disgusted him to turn to such practices, but the ponies were desperate, and anything helped, even the twisted cudgels of the bandits. It didn't take him long to sort through their gear, and there was not much of use, or at least not much that he wished to touch or would let his followers use. A few gems in small pouches, a rusted sword and two cudgels, some strange salve that he didn't know the origin of in a few tubes, and several salvageable metal plates from their armor was distributed amongst the gatherers, adding to whatever else they'd found amongst the wreckage. afterwards he ordered the bodies gathered and burned in a small pit in the sand. This village may have been abandoned by its previous inhabitants, but it could be useful in the future. Close to Home, small, some of the buildings were not too rundown, and if he managed to expand his following enough, he would need a port under his rule. Why clear a new area when the place was already set up? Thus he didn't want the problems that came with several corpses scattered around the town while rotting and spreading disease would bring.

The ponies looked decidedly green as they followed his order. One unfortunate stallion even vomited when the gnoll he tried to pick up turned out to be less attached to it's leg than the pony suspected. Eventually the clean-up was finished, and Ted called the ponies back to him, before picking up the sleeping form of Blur and settling her on his back. Doing one last headcount, he led the way back to the Temple, his mind awash with the details of the fight. It had gone well, ridiculously well, in fact. He'd nearly wiped the bandits out when one had scratched him. What bothered him was the placement of the strike.
The claws had struck the armor, he was sure of it. Even now his flesh throbbed in silent agony of the perceived damage, but not a single drop of blood flowed from any wound. In fact, according to memories of Luna's fights, the alicorn should be able to endure even worse injuries with little to no discomfort. Thinking back to one of her fights, he remembered she was stabbed by a rogue cryomancer's horn, and she had whipped around and crushed the idiot with her armored hooves, not even slowed by the injury. So why did such a glancing blow incite such pain? Why did the pain seem so much worse than it was? The only difference between Luna's fight and his was the armor.

The armor.

The damned armor that the Nightmare had crafted, that left all of his senses and abilities amplified. That had to be it. The bastard had for some unknowable reason left it as an absolute all encompassing amplification effect, including pain. Why though? What good was armor if it left the bearer in agony every time it did its job. It wasn't like the Nightmare could simply shunt the pain elsewhere, right?

Oh...

The more Ted learned of this creature, the more certain he became that if he ever found it in any incarnation, its suffering would be incomprehensible and eternal.


<-(0)-> 


The walk back to the temple was again quiet, though seeing how he had the scent of blood on him, and not his blood but the blood of several other creatures, it seemed most predators identified him as not worth the trouble. That or his flickering aura of anger and the deepening of the shadows as he passed scared the piss out of even the more fearsome creatures they passed.

Ted's mind was working overtime, imagining new and wondrous things he'd do if he ever found that damnable parasite, and the ponies following him only did so out of fear of being left behind in the jungle and knowing that his anger didn't seem directed at them. They just made certain to stay several paces behind the alicorn as his tail flicked in agitation every so often. No need to kick the hornet's nest, after all.

Drawing closer to the Temple, Ted found himself growing more agitated as time passed by, and several ponies noticed the odd glow of his cutie mark, the light intensifying as time dragged on. The alicorn's senses went on high alert; something was wrong. 
Picking up his pace, he started weaving through the woods at a light trot, but the knot in his stomach persisted. Faster. The cultists were now running full speed trying to keep up with the dark alicorn. It still wasn't fast enough. Gripping the mare to his back with his wings, he took off at a full gallop through the forest, cushioning her against the impacts of his pace with is wings and magic. Finally, he caught sight of the Temple and his ponies.

Catching sight of them as they were led out of their Home by a large group of gnolls, bound by ropes and chains. Finally his eyes fell across the foals, locked in a small cage on the back of a large gnoll who every now and again poked a pony with its weapon, prodding the stallion along. Treating him like a slave, like an animal. Attempting to break his followers.

His children.

His vision went red, and Ted knew no more.



<-(0)-> 



Pain was the first thing she noted as she came back to consciousness. It was odd, as it had been a long time since she'd suffered from physical discomfort. Lifting herself from the large bed, she gazed around her. Her armor was set upon a stand, though it's magic seemed off to her senses, and she seemed to be in a temple of some sort, though she had no memory of entering it.
'Strange. Though we do wonder to where our sister hath wandered. We cannot detect her.' Rising from her bed, she felt odd, heavy, too large and bulky from what she remembered. Looking in the mirror, she nearly screamed. A stallion? Why? It made no sense! Why was she-

'It's not right.'

"Reveal thyself, intruder, lest we unleash our wrath upon thee!" She spoke to the voice, shaking the nearby windows.

'I'm not her. She's not me.'

There it was again! Looking around the room, the alicorn could not find the speaker. On the verge of blasting the room with a powerful spell to rid herself of the pest, her eyes fell upon her, no, his flank. An oak tree with a strange circular symbol on it.

'Too far. Went too far, almost drowned.'

It wasn't her mark. The name that came to her mind when she saw it was not hers either. Cimmerian. Darkness. What was going on? Why was she so weak, why were her memories so damaged? She took several deep breathes, closing her eyes, and focusing on her mind. There was a partition. A wall. Focus there, yes, almost.

The next moment, he opened his eyes, and lurched backwards onto his bed. He'd fallen so far he'd nearly not been able to come back, nearly lost himself in her. Shaking, he looked himself over, confirming that he was once again in control of his body. There was no time anymore. Even if it had saved him earlier, the memories had to go. God help him if he fell that far again. There would be nothing left of him to protect his po-

Before the thought had even finished, he'd rushed out of the room, pinging the life detection spell and following it to the greatest concentration of beings in the area. All of them were gathered in the dining hall, and he raced there at full speed, ramming the door off its hinges as he forced his way into the room. He looked around at the gathered ponies, all eyes upon him. He counted as many as he could, noting every face he recognized. Even the griffon and the thestrals were there, though the griffon looked like he'd been through a mulcher. Before he could ask for Shadow, or even a head count, every head lowered in a bow. Some went further, prostrating themselves before him, others muttered praises into the cracked stones of the hall. Finally, his gaze fell upon Shadow Weaver, though the pony seemed to be trying to melt into the floor the second his gaze met Ted's. Slowly, the dark alicorn picked his way through the gathered ponies, taking note of the bandages some bore, the cuts, the black eyes and bruises. Every injury was noted and filed away. Mirage was in a corner, openly weeping but not shoving away the nymphs hysterically clinging to her side. He would need to talk to the changeling after the incident was concluded. She was already weakened by her experiences in Equestria, and would need the support.

"Is everyone accounted for, Shadow?"

The cultist shakily rose, pointing a hoof at Gleam who had a small ratty notebook in her hooves. Turning to her, he took a few steps closer to the mare, the foals around her looking unsure at his approach. The mare took what was supposed to be a steadying breath, before she spoke.
"A-all are accounted for, Father."

"Any injuries worth noting?" He asked flatly.

"No, n-nothing more than cuts and b-bruises. Amald received the worst of the damage, though Tulip's poultices seemed to work." At his inquiring gaze, she explained. "After she lost F-fast, she started studying in the lab. She's a natural herbalist, and became adept at creating a potent healing paste. She said the ones m-made with the larger aloe seemed stronger."

Ted nodded. "And the gnolls? I do not remember much of what happened."

"We haven't seen a trace of them... e-even the, the ones you chased into the Temple." The mare said, just barely suppressing her tears.

"Alright. Bar the doors tonight, and I'd like those who are least injured to rotate guard shifts tonight. I must retire for the night. I have things I need to sort out." The alicorn said. With that he turned and left the ponies, many not rising from the floor till long after his hoof-falls had faded from their hearing. He'd been there when they needed him. When their hope was lost He'd appeared, wreathed in blazing shadows, terrible and wonderful to behold. He'd scattered their tormenters, driven them off like simple thieves into the night. The Nightmare guarded them, he protected them. As he left, they thanked any deity who would listen for their Father. Some offered their thanks directly to His name.

And the Pegasus, Blur; she spoke. As soon as she found her voice, the yellow mare spoke, a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. She spoke of their wonderful Father, who watched them, who loved them, who would make any sacrifice to keep them safe. The One who would comfort them in their troubles, who found joy in their happiness, who would wipe away their tears and drive away their fears. He who loved them all, regardless of past or race. He who protected all those who willingly called Him their Father.

The mare spoke, and those gathered listened. And none listened more intently, more fervently, more zealously, than Shadow Weaver.