//------------------------------// // Lean // Story: Through the Nether // by StormDancer //------------------------------// Celestia was waiting when Twilight Sparkle teleported back into the hallway some three minutes later. Unlike when she had left, however, Celestia was no longer alone. Instead her sister, Princess Luna, was waiting along with one of her personal Guards Twilight wasn't familiar with. Blinking back her initial thoughts, Twilight cleared her throat and ran through a mental checklist to assess the situation. First: Celestia looked pensive at best, downright concerned at worst. That kind of look generally preceded a call to the Element Bearers or at least to a contingent of the Guard (whichever happened to be 'on shift' at the moment). Second: Luna's presence implied a certain level of danger given Celestia's expression. While Celestia wore her emotions behind a carefully crafted facade, Luna's centuries of solitude had gifted her with highly atrophied social graces... leading to some very uncomfortable moments in relation to disagreements. That Luna was looking a mix between worried and hostile did not bode well for whatever had transpired in her absence. Third: one of Luna's Guard being obvious meant, in no uncertain terms, that there was a hostile element within the Castle walls. When Luna chose her Guards, she was meticulous in her selection. She did not choose based upon experience, build, race, or even evidenced skill, but rather what her instincts told her would be important. While Luna's methods were.... difficult to categorize, Twilight had yet to discover even a single Guard who had been less than devastatingly effective when pressed. While they might not all be fighters in the traditional sense, each one had possessed some particular trait that had lent itself to creating an even more effective whole. With that thought in mind, Twilight quickly scrutinized the Guard. The mare was one of the batponies, the exceedingly uncommon breed thought to trace its lineage back to before Luna's banishment. Her mane was pulled back in some form of tight braid and kept in place by a thin strand of some sort. Her coat was the same matte charcoal as the other Night Guard, but upon her peytral was a small silvery crest denoting a mark of position. Slitted amber eyes caught her own as Twilight's gaze lifted... with recognition: one of Luna's personal Guard, selected for specific, though undeclared, talents. "I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting," Twilight said after a moment, "What's happened while I was away?" -~oOo~- The yard before her was open to the sky and frustratingly devoid of cover as she assessed it from the edge of her bush. She had been crawling along for nearly half an hour, creeping along whenever the coast was clear and bunkering herself whenever a patrol drew near. Her remaining clothing was barely even identifiable under the stains and rips, and she knew her hair probably resembled a rat's nest more than the careful sweep she preferred whenever she had the time. Wherever she was, however, simply hadn't afforded her the casual opportunity to primp and preen as she would like. Admittedly, her version of primping normally involved dragging her dagger-like fingers through the thin mass of hair once, checking a few stitches to make sure things wouldn't fall out 'in the moment' and donning an enchanted crown or hat before careening into battle - but it was the thought that counted. Her appearance aside, the situation was looking to be less and less viable the longer she waited. There were simply no easy places to hide out there. The bushes and decorative fountains that had offered her cover since waking simply ended before the span of several hundred feet of open, carefully manicured, lawn. She could see, far across the expanse, more garden-like bushes and at least a few statues but, between her and them, nothing but open sky and bare grasses. Even that she would have been willing to risk if not for two very important issues: a lack of legs for which to sprint, and the preponderance of the flying horse patrols that seemed intent on causing her no end of headaches. She had just shuffled around to backtrack and try the other side of the place when she heard the flapping of dozens of wings and the soft thuds of hooves touching down nearby. Bracing herself, she set to slowly turning her head so as not to draw unwanted attention, and beheld a truly terrifying sight. Less than twenty feet away, a full cadre of those flying horses in armor had landed... but worse yet, the three abominations she had first seen upon arriving were standing amidst them. The tallest had a coat the color of spent charcoal under the moonlight, almost white save for the gray-blue tint of reflected stained glass windows. Its features bore a curious mix of long-practiced calm and the faintest hint of concern. Though it was easily the largest creature she had seen here so far, it seemed more the type to command rather than directly engage. The armor it wore was simply too ornate: a small unadorned peytral, gold plate cuffs upon its legs, and a tall crown of the same metal. Were she not to know otherwise, she would have assumed it to be some noble's carefully bred mount... something to be taken out and shown, perhaps suffering a quick trip out amongst the common folk on a rare visit. Its mane and tail shifted and slithered through the air, a thing alive and seeking prey while hiding behind a veneer of soft pastel colors, dulled to faintly tinted grays in her sight. Overall, it appeared impressive, though not threatening... an image that was at odds with her personal knowledge. It appeared almost pretty, in a fey sense - not the arcane monstrosity that had participated in her summoning and subsequent execution in a more agonizing fashion than realizing her own flesh had been poisoned and set to drag her to the grave. The smallest, a shadowy purple smear until its horn lit in a magenta glow, had also been there. Where the white one was massive and somewhat imposing by its size alone, this one was small and even slightly pudgy. Where the white one was impressive in its grooming, this one was prim but clearly interested in utility. It wore no armor of any kind, and its mane was cut short, ending in a straight cut above its eyes. Similar to the other horse-things that had landed, this one's mane and tail seemed mundane, if strangely colored. But where it was small and unarmored, she felt a thrill of uncertainty. For such an apparently weak creature to be allowed within the presence of the other, clearly powerful, creatures, would imply a similar degree of threat. Perhaps it was some form of minor noble or specialist... a healer or summoner of some sort. Perhaps it was a child of one of the other two. The third, however, was the creature that filled her with the greatest concern. Where the white one was huge and the purple one small, this creature was somewhere in between. It stood taller than all but the white one, and wore a similar crown and leg-plates, however, that was where the similarities ended. Its coat was the color of blotted ink on a moonless night and its mane and tail leapt and snapped as if a thing ravenous, all while displaying the endless night of the fallen Draenor. Where its armor appeared similar to the white one, there were no smooth edges, favoring its blueish metal with almost blade-like cuts. Where the white one stepped gracefully, almost flowing across the grasses and the purple one almost trotted to keep up with its taller counterpart, the dark one stalked with the intensity of a predator. She waited, silent in the sparse cover of her bush, and weighed her options. Fighting, simply speaking, wasn't an option. Hiding seemed equally pointless given their arrival. Fleeing would be best but, with no cover except along the wall she had crawled, it wouldn't take long for them to discover her and then it would all be over. She waited a few moments longer as their gazes roamed the yard, clearly looking for her. The white one turned its head, leading her gaze not unlike a game master leading an act with carefully choreographed intent. The purple one searched with its eyes, darting quickly every time it looked to a new subject.... analytical. The dark one, its lurid gaze slid like the march of the inevitable: unflinching and uncompromising as it passed over the yard in a long, slow, sweep violating the secrets of every shadow or nook as it went. As the dark one's gaze drew near, her mind was set as she sunk her fingers firmly into the soil and silently pulled a lump of sod from the ground. Lump after lump, fistfuls of moist blackness were wrenched from the earth as she dug a hole for her much smaller frame. She dug desperately for, in the dark one's eyes, there was only anger.