I wasn't sure how long I had been in the grip of the great phoenix. It flew for hours over endless waters beneath a ceaseless grey sky, never rising above the clouds even when it began raining. The journey almost would have been boring were it not so uncomfortable and frightening. The phoenix's talons were a constant ache in my side, and the perilous height was always in the back of my mind. The terrible weather conditions, fortunately, were less of a concern. The wind and rain should have left me soaked to the bone and shivering, but the heat of my captor kept the cold at bay. Fire danced over its feathers, and the flames were close enough that they should have burned me, but somehow they didn't. It seemed as if the creature could control the intensity of its own heat, and had mercifully chosen not to cook me just yet.
While I had been afraid at first, my fear subsided as the hours dragged by. After a while, I no longer expected the phoenix to suddenly drop me into the sea or attempt to eat me. More and more, I got the impression that it wanted something else from me, but I couldn't guess what. In the midst of the terrible storm, I pondered why it had killed every other pony and griffon at the Asylum, but had spared me, and instead chose to abduct me and carry me southwest across the Sea of Ghosts. I'd hoped at first that it was taking me back to the Griffish Isles, but we had passed them ages ago, so now I had no idea.
Still, I kept tight-lipped and clung to the phoenix's leg, basking in its warmth to take refuge from the rain and the chill winds. All I could do then was hope that in time, its intentions would become clear.
All throughout the journey, thoughts of Notch and my curse kept drifting to the forefront of my mind. Each time they did, I closed my eyes and grimaced, shaking my head until they went away. I couldn't think about it. Not once, not ever. It was just like sitting by that little green patch back at the Asylum. If I stopped to mourn, I would never stop mourning. Despair leads to hollowing. I couldn't let that be my fate.
I was not in despair. I would not hollow in the grip of the phoenix. My mind was clear of guilt and sadness. Whatever happened next, I would find new purpose, and I would never look back.
Everything was going to be fine.
Chapter 2:
With the Worst of Them
At some point I drifted off to sleep. In my dreams, I was back in Brittlesworth, Notch by my side once more. We would work and talk and spend time together, grumbling about inconsequential things and musing on the situation in the world outside our village. He visited my house to play cards, and there we talked of work and other mutual friends. It was a pleasant experience, but it lasted only a moment, flashing by in an instant in that odd way that dreams sometimes do.
But then a darkness took hold, and my perception of time slowed to something resembling normality. I was not entirely lucid, as I remained unaware for the moment that I was dreaming, but at the same time, the dream had ceased to feel dreamlike. No longer was I drifting without rhyme or reason through a series of vaguely related scenes from my life. Instead, I was anchored there in my home, sitting at that table with Notch as the light drained out of the room.
I didn't even know that I wasn't awake, but I knew with the certainty that only dreams bring that something was coming for me, even if I didn't know what that something was. An unearthly wailing echoed. Notch exploded in a shower of green gore that splattered all over me. I screamed. Then the Asylum demon smashed in my roof and chased me out. I stood back in the middle of the village, watching it crush the building into pieces.
Around me, Brittlesworth burned, even as the bonfire in the centre of the village died. Hollows and feral changelings were laying siege to my home, killing people and stealing their souls. I looked down at my hoof, and found it grey and rotten. Tears streamed down my face. Then I heard that horrible noise. It was like some huge and terrible beast was... not breathing, but instead just inhaling without end.
I slowly turned to the source of the noise. An equine spectre was manifesting before me. Its entire body was covered in metal armour, spiked on the knees and shoulders, but with motifs of bones elsewhere. A metal spine and ribs decorated the exterior of its armour. Beneath its hood, a mask fashioned in the image of a pony's skull stared unblinkingly at me. The spectre glowed with a foreboding blackish-red aura that made it the most visible thing amongst the carnage around us.
It marched over towards me. I did not see a horn glow from beneath its hood, but it nevertheless levitated a sword whose blade alone was longer than my body, and near half as wide. It pointed this absurdly large sword straight at me, and I didn't even try to run. The thing grabbed me by the neck with its hooves and pushed me down to the floor, and then it began choking me.
"What... are... you?" I gasped out.
The sword floated over me, the tip of the blade pressed to my forehead. I whimpered and tried to close my eyes, but like in any nightmare, my eyelids were transparent, and did nothing to hide the horror. The nightmare raised the sword.
Then there was a burst of light and sound from somewhere to my left. I looked over suddenly, and the monster did too. I could almost imagine a look of surprise underneath that mask. A wall of pink fire lit up the village, approaching us from the west, and the flames roared as they came closer. The nightmare turned back to me and raised his sword again, quicker this time, but the wall of fire hit us both as he brought it down.
The nightmare was burned away before he could finish me, along with all of Brittlesworth, and the monsters destroying it. His anguished scream echoed from the other side of the fire as I passed through it. For a moment, I fell through a void of blue starlight, flailing and trying to right myself. Then my descent slowed, and the world began to take form once more. Around me, grass and stone ruins appeared, and my hooves settled on solid ground. I now stood beside a bonfire, small and weak, just like the one at Woods' End.
I looked around at my new surroundings. The sky was as black as I had ever seen, moonless, despite all sense saying that now was Luna's time. I could only assume that an unseen cloud cover was obscuring the moonlight, because the alternative was too terrifying to contemplate. I could not see far, but the bonfire and I were in the middle of a stone pit, shallow and round, which had steps around its rim to sit on instead of benches. Grass grew everywhere outside the pit, but it looked trampled and flat. A giant dead tree towered over the area to my right, making root just beside the pit. On the opposite side was something that looked like a well, except lacking a bucket and winch.
What struck me most about the area, however, were the crumbling stone archways in front of me, forming a semicircle around the bonfire pit. Strolling over to these archways, I found that they had been built on the edge of a cliff. I didn't know how long the drop was, since it was so dark, but I could see tree tops below me.
"Hmph," I said, staring over the edge. "Well then."
Was I still dreaming? I didn't know. I knew now that the siege of Brittlesworth had been a nightmare, but was this the waking world, or was I still asleep? It felt real, but then again, a dream always does to a dreamer.
I turned around to go back to the fire, and froze in place. There was a new figure sitting on the steps by the edge of the pit, one who I hadn't noticed there before. He had the shape of a pony, and he was very big, as tall sitting down as I was standing. Black plate armour covered him all over, and he had a great square shield strapped to his back. It looked heavy, but his posture didn't suggest any kind of discomfort from it. In fact, he seemed almost relaxed. Not that I could tell for sure with his face obscured by that cylindrical helmet he wore. I noted his sword, half-buried in the ground by his side. It was massive, easily twice the size of the one that the nightmare had been carrying, which had itself been very impressive.
I gulped, causing him to finally notice me. He turned his helmeted head my way. For a moment, we both remained still, until he raised a hoof and beckoned me to come closer.
His apparent lack of hostility made my heartbeat calm again, so I approached and sat down next to the hulking armoured pony. He held out a flask of water, one which I could have sworn he hadn't been holding a second ago. Hesitantly, I reached out with my magic and took it.
"...Thank you," I said.
I took a drink, quenching a deep thirst that I hadn't noticed I had until that moment.
"You're new here." The pony's voice was deep and rumbling, but carried with it a gentle inflection that got an uneasy smile out of me.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm not even really sure where 'here' is."
He raised a hoof and gestured to the ruins all around us.
"This is the Fire-Keeper's Dream," he said. "It is a safe place. A bulwark against the nightmares that rule the rest of the dreaming world."
I blinked.
"So... I am still dreaming?"
"Hmmm..." He tilted his head. "Where are you from? You seem... foreign."
"Uh... the Griffish Isles."
"Griffish Isles... I've heard of them. That is east of here. Far east. You are new to Equestria. You've never been in the Fire-Keeper's Dream before, have you?"
I did a double take.
"Wait, Equestria?" I repeated, incredulous. "I'm in Equestria?"
"If you are able to reach the Fire-Keeper's Dream, then physically, you must be. Do you not remember being in Equestria back in the waking world?"
"I... I was..." Then it came back to me. "I was being carried by that phoenix..."
"Phoenix?"
"A great phoenix. Massive thing. It snatched me up and carried me away after..."
I stopped. Thoughts of Notch began resurfacing, so I shook my head and tried to bury them again. I didn't need to think about that right now. The past was behind me.
"You did not plan to be here," said the armoured pony. "You had an encounter with a Darkwraith, didn't you?"
I didn't answer him, and instead took another drink from the flask. I wondered if dream water ever ran out?
"If you were accosted by a hooded, spectral knight, then that was most certainly a Darkwraith you encountered. They rule this land, and terrorise us all across the dreaming world, unless one sleeps by a bonfire. I would wager that your phoenix dropped you off by one back in the physical world."
I sat up.
"So... who are you then?" I asked. "Another dreamer?"
"I'm nopony important," he said. "Just an old knight well past his prime."
"But what do I call you?"
He held out a hoof. "Sir Black Iron of Daylight."
I put down the flask and returned the gesture.
"Firelink Soul of Brittlesworth."
After we ended the hoofshake, I picked up the flask again and looked inside. Sure enough, the water had refilled. I shrugged and put it back down. There would be time to question the nature of dreams later.
"So what are the Darkwraiths? Why did they come after me?"
"They were already here when my fellow knights and I arrived, so I am ignorant to their origins, but I do know that whatever they are now, they were once ponies like ourselves. Whatever dark pacts they made, it gave them frightful power. And with that power, they gained a hunger for souls that cannot be sated. Always they crave more. What they have is never enough. One wonders what they even need it for, but alas, I cannot fathom their motives."
I stewed on that for a moment, thinking back to the monstrous creature that had nearly killed me.
"But they cannot manifest here? I'm safe if I sleep by the bonfires?"
"Your dream self is safe, yes. They cannot penetrate the Fire-Keeper's Dream. Harmony protects us here. But your body is a different matter."
"What can a dream do to my body?" I asked, frowning.
Sir Iron sighed. "Sadly, quite a lot. You wouldn't think that nightmares could menace the waking world, but you would be mistaken. After the night passes and the dreamers venture out from the safety of the bonfires, the Darkwraiths cross between worlds to continue the hunt."
My pupils shrunk.
"...They... can cross into the real world?"
"And so much more than that. They do not traverse this world by mere dream-walking. They are here in this world, physically, and so too may they physically appear anywhere in the waking world by crossing between the dimensions. Nowhere is truly safe, except the Fire-Keeper's Dream."
My jaw hung open.
"So you're telling me that these ponies can come after me anywhere, at any time, even when I'm sleeping, and that if they kill me they're going to steal my soul?"
"They are the greatest menace of our time," said Sir Iron, nodding. "Fortunately, there aren't that many of them. Maybe three hundred in all. You'll not see them that often so long as you sleep by the bonfires."
"Can't they kill me in the physical world while I'm by a bonfire?" I asked.
"It is possible, but highly unlikely. The Fire of Friendship burns with a magic that is anathema to their kind. They are of the Dark. To attempt to kill you while you rest in the Fire's light would be extremely painful for them. No single mortal soul could be worth the effort."
I slumped in place.
"Any other horrifying facts about Equestria I should know?"
"Nothing I would not presume you to know already. There are hollows aplenty all across Equestria, feral changelings abound in the south, and up in the north you'll find demons wandering down from the Lost Empire. There might also be a few monsters here and there, but they are nowhere near as aggressive as demons, so I wouldn't worry about those. You can just run away from most of them. Except the dragons. Do not antagonise a dragon. Ever."
I picked up the water flask again, trying to see if I could turn it into hard cider with pure willpower, because I desperately needed something stronger right now. Alas, no such luck.
"Sir Iron, I can't stay here," I said. "I don't know how to fight. This land is going to kill me, and worse. I don't want to go hollow out here. I want to go back home to my family."
He shrugged.
"I wish I could help you, but I do not know of any way out of Equestria now that we're here. I think that there might be a few cities on the east coast that are still inhabited... Manehattan is one. Baltimare is another. But the way I hear, they are all highly paranoid of undead. If you can get in, and they don't have you dissolved, you might be able to charter a ship, but..."
I sighed.
"Right."
"But I may be wrong. Once you wake up, you can try asking somepony else for help. Most inland towns are more tolerant of undead than the cities are."
"Will you be there when I wake up?" I asked.
Sir Iron looked away from me.
"I am far from where you are," he said, a sombre note entering his voice. "I will be here in the dream whenever you need me, but I'm afraid that once you're in the waking world, I can no longer help you. You will have to make your own way."
"But... Sir Iron, I told you, I cannot fight. If the physical world is as full of hollows and ferals and demons as you say it is, I'll get torn apart!"
"Do you have a weapon or armour?"
I bowed my head. "I lost my sword earlier. All I've got is a wooden roundshield."
Sir Iron looked at the ground too.
"Find another weapon, and find some decent armour. Pull them off of corpses if you have to. The dead won't mind. It's more important that you protect yourself."
"And then what?" I asked. "Even if I have all that, I still won't know how to fight. What do I do then?"
He slowly turned his head towards me.
"Get good," he said simply.
There was silence between us. Then the world around me began distorting. The colours started to blur and fade, and things started becoming indistinct. Even as dark as the Fire-Keeper's Dream already was, it soon became darker still.
I looked around in a panic, but Sir Iron was calm.
"You appear to be waking up," he said, his voice slowing. "Good luck, Firelink. I hope to see you again..."
"Wait...!"
A stiff breeze caressed my back as my eyes cracked open. Most of my body was pressed against cold stone, but my cheek rested on grass and earth. Above, an empty blue sky stared back at me. I rolled over and pulled myself up, and found that I was sitting on the edge of a stone pit with a bonfire in the middle.
Wait a moment, I thought.
I turned in place to take in my surroundings. This place looked exactly like the Fire-Keeper's Dream, except illuminated by sunlight now. There was the bonfire pit, the well, the dead tree, and even the semicircle of stone arches on the edge of a small cliff overlooking a forest. Except that now, in the light of day, I could see beyond the forest. And what I saw was magnificent.
In the distance, beyond the stone archways and the forest, was the tallest mountain that I had ever seen in my life. It rose an impossible distance, piercing the sky itself, clouds obscuring its tallest peak. At its highest point, it was capped with snow, but most of the mountain was exposed rock. And on the mountain's right side, a waterfall cascaded down to a place beyond the forest. I imagined that it formed a winding river that would go on for miles.
But what most caught my eye about the mountain was the city. It was like no other city I had ever seen. It almost hung off the mountain face, positioned halfway between the base and the peak. The city was a grand structure, built of smooth white marble with motifs of gold. Unlike the efficient, square structures of Port Cruelsea, or the humble abodes of the villages which I had visited, this city was all spires and domed rooftops, with circular towers and castle walls.
Most mesmerising of all was how the whole city glowed in the sunlight. I felt drawn in by it, like a moth towards a flame. I even reached out with my hoof, attempting to touch it, but reality quickly came crashing down, and I realised that the distance between us was simply too great. I let out a little whine, and tried to rein in my disappointment as I lowered my hoof.
I want to go there.
I spent several minutes there, gazing longingly at the white and gold city, but it was useless to just sit there and stare all day. Now that I was awake, I remembered, I needed to get to work on a survival plan. I turned my back on the city and surveyed the rest of the area.
On the other side of the bonfire pit from the forest were several ruined and crumbling walls, which had more archways leading through them. The closest walls were the lowest, either because they were the most ruined or because they just hadn't been built as high, but the more distant ones rose several storeys into the air. More dead trees, just like the one next to the bonfire, also rose out of the ruins.
I started towards the closest wall and passed through an archway. On the other side, the ground was just as grassy, and I found one of those dead trees, so I kept walking on in hopes of finding the interior of whatever structure had once been here. Passing through another arch, I found it.
I now stood in the middle of some kind of flooded square hall. The roof was gone, as was the wall to my left, but above me were the remains of a higher floor, including a walkway or balcony that circled the upper levels of the room. I took a closer look at the walls, and found them inscribed with murals of winged and horned ponies, the alicorns of legend. Two in particular, which I recognised as the goddesses Celestia and Luna, were depicted striking down a bizarre-looking chimera. Was this some kind of church? A place of worship for the Four?
There was a screeching noise somewhere above me, and sound of giant wings beating with it. I put my hooves on my head and cowered, and the great phoenix swooped low over the ruined hall. It fluttered over and landed on the balcony of the upper level, scratching the ancient brickwork as it gripped on with its talons. The bird spread its fiery wings and turned its full attention onto me.
Since it didn't seem to wish me harm, I uncurled and stood tall. I took a moment to stop myself from trembling. Then I ran my tongue across my now dry lips, and tried to think of something to open with.
"So... thanks for not eating me," I said.
The phoenix screeched once more, folded its wings, and cocked its head.
"...I gather you must've brought me here for a reason... This is Equestria, right?"
It didn't respond, instead cocking its head the other way and giving me a blank look. I wondered if I was crazy for trying to talk to a bird. Phoenixes were supposed to be pretty smart, so I had no doubt that it could understand me, but it wasn't like we could actually communicate. I didn't speak Phoenix, and this thing didn't have the means to teach me.
"Well, look, thanks for rescuing me from the Asylum and all... if that's what you were trying to do... but I can't really stay here. I need to get home. You understand? Home. In the Griffish Isles. I don't suppose... you can take me back there?"
The phoenix lost interest in me, and started preening itself. I sighed.
"Oh well. Thanks anyway."
Not wanting to wade through the flooded hall, I went back the way I came and out into the grassy, open area. I looked back over my shoulder and watched the phoenix rise out of the church hall, flapping its way up to the higher levels of the ruins. It came to rest near what looked like a giant nest. I raised an eyebrow. Now I was even more confused than before. If the phoenix had its nest here, then what had it been doing at the Changeling Asylum? And why had it attacked the Inquisition but not me?
I shook my head.
"Crazy damn bird..." I muttered under my breath.
What was I to do now? Sir Black Iron had given me some advice in the dream, hadn't he? I was now struggling to remember it. From the Darkwraith's appearance onwards, my sleep had been far more lucid than it normally was, but my memories of it were still slipping away from me. I trotted over to a particularly crumbled section of wall and looked over it towards the bonfire pit, in hopes of solidifying the memory in mind.
Sir Iron had told me a few things. I ran through the major points of his advice. Sleep by the bonfires to avoid the Darkwraiths. Be wary of demons in the north and changelings in the south. Don't ever antagonise a dragon. And... yes, now I remembered the important bit. Get armour, get a weapon, and then get good.
Well, all things considered, it wasn't the most daunting task. Fighting with a sword or a spear was just another skill, like harvesting apples, or playing the lute. I could learn, given enough time, couldn't I? How hard could it be? After all, I hadn't been doing too badly against the Asylum demon before it...
No. I wasn't thinking about that right now. Maybe I wouldn't ever think about it again. When my father died, the grief had driven my grandfather hollow, and even as young as I was at the time, I always remembered how empty his eyes had been on the day we found him. It was the same grief that we had all felt at the time, the same grief that Mr. Quiver was now living with, and would probably carry with him for the rest of his life. That couldn't be me. I was not grieving for Notch.
With a shake of my head, I forced myself back into the moment.
And that's when I heard the voices.
"...Explain to them such nuances..."
"...Sure won't... difference..."
I followed the voices, going over towards a different archway, much larger than the others. To my surprise, this one led into another hall with its roof and all its walls intact, the darkness inside kept at bay by burning torches. Cautiously, I poked my head around the corner to look inside. At the end, two ponies stood by some pots.
One was a white unicorn mare, her whole body except for her face obscured by her white and gold robes. The other was a red stallion with a blond mane trimmed in a bowl cut. His loose-fitting barding and heavily padded shoulders made him appear much larger than he was, but his armour left his legs exposed, so I could see that he was actually quite skinny underneath it all. He was in the middle of saying something when I looked in, but both he and the mare stopped talking and turned my way after a few seconds.
I pulled back out of sight, taking a sharp breath. They'd seen me.
"Hello?" the stallion called.
Well, it was no use now. They knew I was here. All I could do was hope that they didn't feel inclined to have me dissolved, or whatever other horrific things they did to undead in this country. I gradually inched out of cover, and found the two still standing where they were, waiting in silence. Steeling myself, and taking care to cover my darksign with my tail, I walked over to greet them.
"Um, hello!" I said, trying to sound casual. "I'm, uh... a little lost, I guess? I don't suppose you two could help me at all?"
Even in the low light, I noticed the mare's eyes flick briefly to my flank. Despite my attempt to disguise it, she must've seen the darksign anyway, as a sympathetic grimace crept over her features. At least it wasn't the look of loathing that I'd feared seeing. The red stallion had clearly also noticed, but he remained dispassionate.
"Lost, are you?" he said, speaking in a soft but pronounced tone. "Most unfortunate. But I believe we may be able to help you. What do you need?"
Seeing their reactions, I relaxed my tail and looked around the hall, wondering where to begin.
"Right, well... Okay. I suppose I should start by asking where I am now?"
The corner of the stallion's mouth twitched.
"You stand now in the ruins of the Shrine of Sunlight, one of the first churches built in honour of Celestia, who is called the Lord of Sunlight."
That got a slight head-tilt from me.
"Lord? In my homeland, the Church always said that Celestia was a princess. We're not talking about different sun gods here, are we?"
The mare chuckled. The stallion smiled as well.
"Ah, well, she is both, really," he said. "To be sure, the Four were all once princesses of Equestria, but Celestia in particular was also described as a lord in the inscriptions found in the Shrine. The term was used in a gender-neutral sense, we believe. Some in the faith argue about the canonicity of the Shrine's murals, but in Shorebreak, the Way of White believes that the Sisters did have special significance, above even Princess Twilight and Princess Cadance, and that Celestia was ruler of the gods."
"Uh... huh..."
I resisted rolling my eyes. Normally, I couldn't have cared less about what the Way of White considered a canonical scripture, but I had been the one to ask, and it was pretty evident that these two were deeply religious. Now that I had a closer look at them, I could see that the mare was wearing a metal sun symbol around her neck, and the stallion had a red and blue kite shield on his back that sported a similar emblem.
"Out of curiosity, you wouldn't happen to be a Cleric-Knight, would you?" I asked the stallion.
"What gave it away?" he said, smiling and holding out a hoof. "Sir Penance of Shorebreak."
I took his hoof and shook it.
"Firelink Soul of Brittlesworth."
Sir Penance gestured to the mare as we broke contact. "And this is Sister Pilgrimage, also of Shorebreak."
Pilgrimage did not offer a hoof, so I instead gave her a slight bow, which she seemed amused by.
"So what are a Cleric-Knight and a Sister of Solace doing here? This shrine doesn't look like it's still open for worship."
"We are waiting for some new arrivals," said Sir Penance, speaking now with a conspiratorial whisper. "A pair of minotaurs are coming here from the east to meet us. The four of us are to go south to join up with a warband of Chaos Paladins. They're planning another crusade into the Everfree Forest to fight King Aspen's scourge."
"I... Hmm." I cleared my throat. "I beg you pardon, but... what's a Chaos Paladin, and who's King Aspen?"
"The Chaos Paladins are followers of Discord." For the first time, it was Sister Pilgrimage who answered me, speaking with an earnest sweetness to her voice. "They believe in freedom above all else, so they choose their own battles and fight for any cause that they feel like fighting for. Some fight demons, some fight Darkwraiths, and some fight random ponies. But this warband we're joining fights the forces of Order, as they believe their father would have wanted, and King Aspen and the deerfolk are followers of the God of Order. We are to join them in their crusade."
I tried to articulate a response to that, but I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know much about the Way of White to begin with, besides the basic stuff that everybody knew, and I knew even less about Discord.
"So... are the Chaos Paladins a part of the Way of White or... what?"
Pilgrimage gave a modest laugh, as ladylike as could be.
"No, no," said Sir Penance, shaking his head. "They're just... temporary allies. Or certain factions within them are, at least. The Way of White stands for Harmony, the balance between Order and Chaos. We must keep the peace and balance the sides. Some of the Chaos Paladins have shown willingness to work in harmony with us, just as Discord once worked with the Four in ancient times. Aspen and the forces of Order, however, have not. And so they must be pacified."
I looked around the ruined hall and frowned.
"You know, with all these demons, hollows, and feral changelings everywhere, it seems to me like Chaos is the side that's winning. Are you sure it's a good idea to be going off to crusade against Order right now?"
"Trust me, child," said Sir Penance, "a world of nothing but feral changelings and hollows would be very orderly indeed. Chaos comes with life. It makes noise. When all is dead and still and forever unchanging, it is Order that has won. Rest assured the Church has considered the implications of supporting the Chaos Paladins on this, and that the decision was not made lightly."
In all this talk of religion and crusades, I'd almost forgotten my original purpose in talking to the two. But as I tried to make sense of their words, it came back to me.
"...Anyway, all that aside... directions?"
"Oh, yes. Quite. Well, where is it you want to go?"
"I need to cross the Celestial Sea and reach the Griffish Isles. Is there anywhere I can find a ship heading that way? Or a pegasus sky chariot? Anything?"
Sir Penance and Pilgrimage gave each other furtive looks. Pilgrimage now wore the same grimace that she'd had after first noticing my darksign, while Sir Penance pursed his lips and looked at the ground, furrowing his brow in thought.
"None of the remaining east coast cities would let an undead like yourself within their borders, as far as I know, so ships are out. There is merit in the sky chariot idea, but I don't know where you'd find one, or a pegasus willing to fly it that distance... I'm sure you can find one somewhere in one of these inland towns, but I wouldn't know where. You'd be better off asking a local about that."
"Well, where might I find a local?" I asked.
Sir Penance idly tapped a hoof on the ground.
"The closest inhabited settlement is Sweet Apple Acres, due south of here. It's past the ruins of Ponyville. That's where we're meeting the rest of the warband later. I'd start there."
"Well, that sounds excellent," I said. "May I accompany you and these Chaos Paladins there?"
"If you wish. They should be arriving sometime in the next few hours. Though I must ask first... you appear to be lacking in proper equipment. Are you much of a fighter, sir?"
I looked down at the broken wooden roundshield, still attached to my leg. It was so dinky that I'd barely noticed I still had it.
"I can fight if need be, but I am no warrior," I answered, drawing my eyes away from the bloody shield. "Is this a problem?"
"For you, it may be." Sir Penance's frown gave me an impression of deep concern. "Understand, the ruins of Ponyville are infested with hollows. There are safe places, but if you cannot fight, it is likely that you will be killed, even with our protection. And if that does happen, we shall not wait for you to revive. We will leave you where your body falls."
I blinked. "But...if you do that, I'll be alone in the middle of hostile territory."
"If we carry your corpse along with us as an act of charity, you may spring back to life as a hollow in the heat of a battle and stab one of us in the back. We do not know you, Firelink, so we have no way of knowing how close you are to hollowing. We cannot risk our own lives for your sake. We each have only one."
"So you'll leave me for dead surrounded by hollows just on the off-chance?"
I looked to both of them. Sister Pilgrimage averted her gaze, but Sir Penance was not afraid to look me in the eye. He gave a grave nod, and I sighed.
"For what it's worth," he said, "I doubt you shall have too much trouble. We will kill any hollows in our way and clear a path through Ponyville. If you do revive with your faculties still intact, then you merely need to follow the trail of corpses."
"Won't the hollows you kill revive just like me?"
"Yes, but I shouldn't think it a problem," said Sir Penance, almost casually. "How many deaths have you suffered, dear boy?"
"Uh... two."
"You're fine, then. Revival time near-enough doubles with each subsequent death, dependent on damage sustained. Third deaths last forty-five minutes, assuming a basic stab wound, but most of these wretches in Ponyville have been killed so many times that they'll be down for weeks, at least."
"O-Oh. Okay."
I actually did not know that about undead. I knew that more deaths meant it took longer to revive, but I didn't know that the time increase was so exact. This was useful information. As long as I kept track of how many times I died, I could calculate how long would pass between deaths. I now worked out that I'd probably spent about half an hour total being dead at the Asylum, so I hadn't lost much time from that... though I didn't know how long I'd been asleep for.
I stared at the floor as I tried to work out a timeline in my head.
"So... unrelated question," I said. "What time is it?"
Sir Penance looked to Sister Pilgrimage, who lifted the sleeve of her robes to glance at a watch.
"Quarter past nine," she answered.
Quarter past nine? In the morning? That couldn't be right; I'd arrived at the Asylum at six. There was no way that my entire adventure there and journey here had only taken a little over three hours, especially if I'd spent half an hour being dead and yet more time asleep. Unless she had meant meant nine in the evening, and it had actually taken somewhere in the realms of fifteen hours? But then, that seemed like too long.
"Um... Sorry, AM or PM?"
"AM," said Sir Penance. "Rising day."
Well, if it was still morning on a rising day, then either I'd slept for three days straight, or Equestrian clocks were a few hours behind Griffish ones. All things considered, the latter seemed more likely to me. At least my waking still roughly coincided with the beginning of the day, despite my multiple deaths and apparently crossing into a different time zone. Small mercies, I supposed.
"...Right," I said. "Thank you. Lost track of time for a bit there."
"Happens to the best of us," said Sir Penance with a small smile. "So, do you still intend to accompany us to Ponyville?"
I was still lost in thought for the moment, so it took me longer than usual to respond.
"...Oh! Yes, of course. I accept the terms."
"Splendid. If you wish, we can seal our agreement by making a covenant with the gods?"
"Thank you, but no need," I replied, turning to go. "I'm going to look around the Shrine a little more. See if I can find some better gear for the Ponyville trip."
Sir Penance raised an eyebrow.
"I would warn you against desecrating the graveyard behind this site. I don't begrudge you the occasional heresy if you really must pillage from the dead, since you are one of them, but please restrict such barbarism to the unburied and the hollowed. The graveyard is a sacred place. Don't disturb what little peace still remains."
I got the feeling that I had offended him by snubbing his offer. Perhaps making a covenant was a bigger deal than I'd thought. Regardless of my feelings on the Way of White or Sir Penance, I resolved to make up for my faux pas by playing along in future. Whether I was a believer or not, if it was just considered common courtesy here, then it did me no harm to indulge them, and no favours to spurn them.
I nodded to them both. "Very well. I promise it shall be untouched."
Sir Penance eased up, and Pilgrimage smiled again.
"I'll be back soon," I said, waving goodbye as I trotted out of the hall. "Vereor nox!"
"Praise the sun," they both replied in unison.
As I left the hall and emerged into the rising day sun, now out of the way of Sir Penance and Pilgrimage, I let myself have that eye-roll that I had suppressed earlier. Nothing like the Way of White to leave a pony confused and uncomfortable.
A few minutes after my first meeting with Sir Penance and Sister Pilgrimage, I was already trying to find a way to the upper levels of the ruins. In the flooded hall, I stood at the water's edge, and stared up at the balcony overlooking it, particularly the place where the phoenix had landed before. Was there still any way up there, or had the stairs used to reach it already crumbled away? If I'd still had my grappling hook, the question would've been irrelevant, but after my murder and robbery by Patches, I was now much less vertically mobile.
As I pondered, my thoughts strayed back to my meeting with the White followers, since at least that way, I wasn't thinking about Notch again. Getting to Sweet Apple Acres was imperative if I wanted to return home, and that required a trip through Ponyville, but I did not like the thought of going accompanied by fanatics. I did not have anything against the Way of White per se; almost everypony followed it to some degree, including most of my family. But the Church's Cleric-Knights were a whole other story.
In my lifetime, I'd heard terms like "crusade" and "holy war" a lot, both from the stories that the old-timers would tell, and from gossip about events in distant lands. Whenever the Cleric-Knights of the Way of White got it in their heads that the Four were willing them to go out purge evil, all one could do was hope that they picked a deserving target.
In my homeland, they were mostly demon-hunters, and very occasionally were also called upon to put down hollows or feral changelings. But in other kingdoms, they sometimes went way overboard, hunting down all undead, or all changelings, or sometimes just those that they considered heretics, depending on how much power and freedom the kingdom granted them. For example, New Griffonstone had given the Cleric-Knights more or less free rein to deal with the hollow problem however they saw fit, and they had ended up founding the Inquisition as a result.
Sir Penance and Sister Pilgrimage didn't seem that bad; they were both amiable enough. But nothing they'd said about the deer had made it sound like they deserved to die, while everything they'd said about these so-called "Chaos Paladins" made them sound ominous, to say the least. Maybe it was just my prejudices at work, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I would one day regret meeting Sir Penance and his minotaur friends.
I waded through the water and out through the destroyed wall. On the other side was open air, as I emerged onto another cliff overlooking the forest. The floor was still there, and there were still foundations close to the cliff's edge. So this had once been another room...
Looking to my left, I spotted some crumbling stone stairs, so I climbed them and emerged onto the balcony overlooking the flooded hall. That was easier than I'd expected. For some reason, the walls and floors on the balcony's level were mossy and grimy, unlike the lower level, where they were merely faded with age. I briefly wondered why the lower levels weren't similarly filthy and overgrown. Maybe some pilgrim had come by and cleaned it off to preserve the murals? Sir Penance had made it sound like the Shorebreak branch of the Church cared about this place, at least.
I circled the room and came to a crumbled piece of wall on the opposite side of the hall. It was low enough that I was able to lift myself up over it, depositing myself on the roof of another building. I was now standing atop the hall where I had met Sir Penance and Sister Pilgrimage. The brick beneath my hooves felt solid, so I sauntered over to the edge and stared out at the mountain city again.
What was that place? It was beautiful, but it was also perplexing. The way it was built into the mountainside was like a work of art, but it couldn't have been practical to build a city there. Had it been built by magic, perhaps in some distant age when magic had been a much stronger force in the world? People had always said that Equestria at its peak was a very advanced civilization, far eclipsing our own. Looking at that city, I believed it.
I turned around and headed back across the roof, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the knight slumped against the wall of the other hall. I'd passed right by them while climbing over and hadn't even noticed. They didn't react to me, not even looking my way. I suspected that this armoured pony was actually a corpse, but just in case, I crept over and waved a hoof in front of them before using my magic to lift their visor. I gasped and stepped back when it revealed a horned skull underneath, with its jaw hanging limply open, and its eye sockets staring out at nothing.
The skeleton slumped even further, now lying on its side. I recovered quickly from my shock, but remained still for a while, staring at the body.
The armour it wore covered almost everything, but the steel appeared old, scratched, and damaged, particularly on the lone left pauldron. Despite its age, however, it still looked very fancy. The leggings and helmet were bare steel, but the rest of the body was covered by a gold-trimmed blue surcoat, and a different, tougher, brown material covered the neck. The flank and chest areas were also adorned by heraldry of a star-tipped rod imposed over a crescent shape, which was stitched carefully into the fabric with gold thread. It was a little torn in places, but it was all surprisingly clean. I had to wonder how it had survived relatively unscathed while the armour's occupant had rotted away to nothing.
Next to where the skeleton had been sitting, I found a shield, a sword in a scabbard, and a pair of old saddlebags. I ignored the former for now and picked up the latter. They were decorated by the same starry crest as the armour, except that it was blue on the saddlebags, while on the armour it was gold.
I opened them up and emptied their contents onto the roof. First, there were a few obvious travelling supplies, such as a pair of binoculars, a map, and a compass. Made sense. There was a bag of Equestrian coins, all still gold and shiny after however many years they'd been here. I found a quill and inkpot, some loose paper, and a few empty envelopes. There was even a little brown book. I briefly flipped through the first few pages, but I didn't recognise the language, so it was pointless trying to read it. Much like the surcoat of the armour, I had to wonder how all the paper contents of the bags were in such good condition.
"Hmm," I said. "Interesting."
I picked up the knight's helmet to inspect it. It seemed designed to cover the whole head, but unlike the cylindrical helmet that Sir Black Iron had worn, it was fairly round and had a liftable visor, which protruded slightly from the helmet to make room for a pony's muzzle. I lifted the visor and tried to put it on. To my surprise, it fit my head perfectly, even having room for my horn. Lowering the visor, I also found that it didn't obscure my sight as much as I'd feared. To be sure, my peripheral vision was impaired, but I could see enough of what was in front of me through the helmet's slit.
My bigger concern was the weight. The helmet was fine, but a whole suit of armour built like this was going to be heavy. I wondered if I'd even be able to move in a full set of it. Equine plate armour was originally designed by earth ponies, so unicorn knights were supposed to be very fit to keep up in it. I was no slouch, but I wasn't exactly an athlete, either.
Lifting the visor again, I looked back down at the skeletal knight and sighed.
"Well, only one way to find out..." I muttered. "Sorry about this, friend."
I lifted the body with my magic and began to remove the armour one piece at a time. It was grim work, but I reminded myself that Sir Iron and Sir Penance had both conceded the necessity of the act for me. It hadn't done this poor soul any good, but maybe this armour could at least save my life. Finally, once it was all off, I laid the skeleton down, gently propping them up against the wall where they'd been before.
I removed my wooden roundshield and began trying on the rest of the armour. The suit was indeed heavy, but not as heavy as I'd been expecting. I took a few stumbling steps, but adjusted soon enough. I could move just fine. I sure wouldn't be doing any long-distance running, and even walking would probably exhaust me after a matter of hours, but I still had free movement. And it wasn't like I couldn't ever take it off again to rest.
"Okay. Armour, check. Now, weapons..."
Looking over to the skeleton again, I went back to pick up the shield. It was a steel kite shield with a rounded top, and much like the armour, it sported a gold rendition of the starry crest over a blue background. I wondered what it was meant to represent. Obviously, it had been somepony's cutie mark at some point, but I couldn't tell if it was the cutie mark of this nameless knight, or if it was the mark of somepony else that they'd fought for. At the very least, the elaborate design of the armour suggested that the knight had been a pony of either great wealth or great prestige.
With a sigh, I hooked the shield onto my side and strapped on the scabbard. I removed the sword from it to see what kind of blade I was dealing with. It was a mouth-grip broadsword, fairly big and heavy, but like the armour itself, manageable in the short term. Still looked sharp, too. I sheathed it again, hoping I wouldn't have much cause to use it in the near future.
"...Check."
After a moment's hesitation, I also put all the loose items back in the saddle-bags, and put those on as well. Once I was done, I spent a moment in silence, standing there before the dead knight. Finally, with a bite of my lip, I gave a half-hearted bow.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
I didn't stop any longer, instead climbing back over the crumbling wall. I didn't feel like spending any longer on the roof.
I came back to the hall where Sir Penance and Sister Pilgrimage were waiting half an hour later. I'd briefly explored the graveyard in the intervening time, but it had turned out to be uneventful. It had been interesting to see all the ancient cutie marks on the headstones, but I couldn't read the writing on them, as it was in the same strange language as the journal and letters I'd found, so none of it really meant anything to me. I'd toyed around with the idea of digging a new grave for the knight whose armour I had taken, but I'd figured that I wouldn't have enough time before the minotaurs arrived, so I went back instead.
The minotaurs in question were already there when I returned. Sir Penance and Sister Pilgrimage looked quite surprised by my appearance, but my visor was lifted, so they recognised that it was me. Sir Penance gave a suspicious frown as I approached, my new armour rattling and echoing off the stone with every step. I gave him a half-smile and a shrug.
"It wasn't taken from a grave, I promise."
He seemed to take my word for it, clearing his throat and turning to the minotaurs, who so far had taken no notice of me, and were busy speaking to each other in their own tongue. They stopped and looked to Sir Penance, and he gestured to me.
"The undead I mentioned."
The minotaurs both stared at me. The bigger of the two narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, while the smaller one just blinked, dumbly. They looked almost identical, both being huge, bipedal bulls with blue-grey fur, yellow eyes, and nose rings. They even both wore the same patchwork armour, cobbled together from bits of scrap metal and what appeared to be snakeskin leather. I could only tell them apart by their size and their weapons; the bigger one carried a mace, while the smaller instead had a battleaxe.
"Firelink, this is Paladin Great Victory..." said Sir Penance, indicating the big one first, "...and Paladin Small Nicety."
I nodded in response, making Victory snort. "Pleasure to meet you both."
Nicety mumbled something, but I couldn't tell what. He wasn't speaking that foreign language anymore, but his words were still indistinguishable.
"Um... Paladin Small Nicety is not the most confident speaker," said Sir Penance. "You must forgive him."
"Of course."
Victory came closer, and I suddenly had flashbacks of the Asylum demon as I craned my neck upwards to meet this looming giant's gaze. Somehow I kept my composure, but I still took an instinctive step backwards.
"You, undead pony." He had a voice like thunder; I shrunk away. "Penance says you want to come with us?"
"U-Uh... Yes. Just to Sweet Apple Acres."
"He says you cannot fight. Is this true?"
"I can fight," I said, defensively. "I'm just not a warrior."
"No..." Victory leaned in closer, his glare only becoming more intense. "You look like a knight, not a warrior."
My eyes flicked briefly to Sir Penance, and then back to the paladin.
"...Is there a difference?"
The minotaur's mask of indifference broke into a wide, maniacal grin. He slammed his hand down on my shoulder (or rather, my pauldron) and threw his head back, giving a long and hearty laugh. His companion joined him, though Small Nicety's laugh was nowhere near as bellowing as the other paladin's. Victory doubled over and held his chest as he let go of me. My eyes still flickering between them and the White followers, I began to join in with some nervous laughter of my own.
"You're funny, pony!" Victory slapped my shoulder again and laughed some more. "'Is there a difference?' Haha!"
I didn't get it.
"Come now, Pilgrimage!" he said, turning to the White followers. "Time to go!"
I blinked. "Now? We're going now?"
The Chaos Paladins started walking without another word, though Victory continued chuckling to himself. Sir Penance shrugged and followed, while Sister Pilgrimage just proceeded ahead with a smile. I hung back a little, and walked alongside Sir Penance as we emerged from the ruins.
"What was that about?" I whispered.
"Chaos Paladins delight in the unpredictable and the nonsensical," he said. "It doesn't matter to them whether it comes from themselves or others. Perhaps what you said was truly unexpected and amusing to them, or perhaps they just laughed to confuse you. Either is possible. Do not look too deeply into anything that they say or do. Many of them are quite mad, anyway."
"Are these two mad?"
"I couldn't say. They are friends of Sister Pilgrimage, not of myself."
We passed the bonfire pit, and Sister Pilgrimage led the minotaurs down a small stairway behind the stone arches that I hadn't noticed before. As we followed down after her, descending into the forest, I looked back at the bonfire by the dead tree. A thought occurred to me just then, something which hadn't even crossed my mind until that moment.
"Hey, Sir Penance? Have you ever been to something called the Fire-Keeper's Dream?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"Just trying to confirm to myself that what I experienced was real. I've never been to Equestria before today. Last night, I think I was attacked by a Darkwraith, but then... then I ended up in the Dream. First time either has ever happened to me. Is that really what it's normally like here?"
"Oh, yes." Sir Penance nodded grimly. "It's a sad fact of life in Equestria. If you wish for a good night's rest, you must stay by a bonfire. Sleeping in the wilderness is foolhardy for even the bravest of warriors."
We reached the forest floor. The ambient noises of the forest and the snapping of sticks as they were trod underhoof joined the clinking and rattling of my armour. The sunlight was spotty, filtered through the treetops overhead, and the earthy smell of nature filled my nostrils. Despite all that I had been through, I smiled.
"Something amusing?" asked Sir Penance.
"Oh, no. I was just admiring the forest. It's... nice."
Sir Penance joined me with a smile of his own.
"It is, isn't it? It's called White Tail Woods. Or, I think it is, at least. It's mostly unnamed on maps."
"You've seen a lot of maps, have you?"
"A few. Adventuring Cleric-Knights are expected to know the landscape."
"So, do you know what that city is?"
"City?" Sir Penance stared blankly at me for a second, before realisation dawned. "Oh! You mean Canterlot?"
"If Canterlot is the white and gold city up on the mountain, then yes."
"Yes, that is Canterlot City, the old capital of Equestria. The mountain is Mount Canterlot. And the area west of the mountain, including this part of White Tail, is called the Canterlot Hills, or the Unicorn Range, depending on the map."
"I see. Is Canterlot still inhabited?"
"Difficult question. Nopony truly knows."
I furrowed my brow.
"How come?"
"The way there is treacherous, and none survive the journey. Trust me, it's not worth going there to find out. The pathway up the mountain is littered with corpses and hollows."
I tried to shrug, despite my very real disappointment, but it was more effort than it was worth in the armour. So instead I just nodded and went quiet.
It was going to be a long trip.
Within a few hours of our trek through the forest, I had been drawn into a conversation with the minotaurs and Pilgrimage. Away from Sir Penance, Pilgrimage was much more willing to speak up, and she laughed along with the Chaos Paladins whenever they randomly decided that something I said was hilarious. Small Nicety never stopped mumbling, but the others seemed to have no trouble understanding him.
I didn't say much, except answering a few simple questions when they took interest in me, but they talked a lot about themselves. I was able to gather a few things from context through their chatter, such as that the minotaurs were brothers, and that Pilgrimage had met them many years ago when their warband visited Shorebreak for some reason.
I took the opportunity to ask a few basic questions of my own, but sometimes, I got more than I bargained for, and Victory would go into an off-topic lecture about things I didn't really understand or care about. The minotaur was eager to talk about a lot of things, but honestly, I was only really interested in the Chaos Paladins themselves. As an organisation, they were a definite curiosity. Luckily enough, the subject did come up frequently with the right prodding.
"...And it is true that chaos is self-destructive, so disagreement and strife is encouraged in the Chaos Paladins. We are no united force. We have no hierarchy. There is only the cause of chaos, and we must interpret that for ourselves. No two paladins fully agree on who the true enemy is."
As Victory finished his speech, we arrived in a small clearing in the forest. A fallen log provided a convenient place to sit and rest, which Nicety, Pilgrimage, and I did. Sir Penance wandered to the edge of the clearing and into the forest, while Victory remained standing and crossed his arms.
"Well, who do you believe is the true enemy?" I asked, removing my helmet to wipe the sweat from my forehead.
Victory snarled. "The accursed Darkwraiths! The Dreamscape should not be a wretched black abyss, as it is now in this age of nightmares! It should be full of colour and life! It is one of the Realms of Chaos by right, and we must take it back from them!"
"Uh-huh... so... if you think the Darkwraiths are your enemy, what are you going off to kill the deer for?"
Small Nicety mumbled something.
"Shut up!" Victory roared, turning on his brother.
There was more mumbling, and Victory took a deep breath. He looked back to me.
"My brother would rather I not tell an outsider, but he forgets that I do not care about his opinion. We seek to destroy King Aspen and his deer for many reasons, but for us, the true purpose is the treasure that lies in Thicket. The deer have many trinkets hoarded away in their stronghold, but what Aspen has that we want is a collection of red eye orbs."
I raised an eyebrow.
"They are magical items," Victory continued, "which are able to physically transport someone between the Dreamscape and the material world. The Darkwraiths use them to terrorise ponies in two worlds at once and escape when they know they're beaten. I and many other Chaos Paladins want to use them to invade the Dreamscape and destroy those foul creatures."
"Uh... wow. My hat's off to you. I hope you succeed."
In destroying the Darkwraiths, anyway. I still wasn't sure about the deer.
I looked over to Pilgrimage. "So, I'm guessing that the Way of White also wants in on this Darkwraith thing?"
She smiled and nodded. "That is correct. Sir Penance and a number of other Cleric-Knights will help the warband in taking Thicket, and will then lead the crusade into the Dreamscape. We expect it to be a long campaign, but with our champions behind it, we have faith that we will succeed."
"Truly, there is no greater glory than slaughtering servants of the Dark," Victory said with a laugh.
"So who are these champions then? You lot?"
Again, Small Nicety mumbled something I couldn't understand, while Pilgrimage chuckled to herself.
"Well, no, we're just participants," she said.
"The champion of the Chaos Paladins is the Legend," said Victory. "A personal hero of my brother and I. His mastery of chaos magic and his skill with a greatsword are unmatched."
Pilgrimage nodded. "And for us, we have—"
"Sir Daybright," said Sir Penance, emerging from the trees and walking over to us. "Wielder of Grant and Sanctus, leader of the Order of the Cleric-Knights of Celestia, and undefeated in single combat. Somewhat of a hero himself."
When Sir Penance rejoined the group, he gave us all a grave look. We all paused, waiting for him to continue the conversation, but instead, he changed subjects.
"We have a problem," he said in a hushed tone.
I sat up. Nicety and Pilgrimage leaned in.
"What is it?" I whispered.
"At the edges of clearing, out in the forest. We've got ferals."
My heart began thudding. I gulped. Even Paladin Victory looked far more serious than before.
"How many?" he asked, as quiet as I'd ever heard him.
"Three that I can see, but that means the actual number is likely closer to ten."
I forced myself to give a slight chuckle. "Th-That's not so bad, right? If we each kill two of them..."
Pilgrimage gave me a look that I couldn't decipher. It seemed... expectant, somehow. Then I remembered that the Sisters of Solace were pacifists by oath, and I mentally slapped myself.
I was about to say something, but then Sir Penance gasped at something he saw behind me. Nicety looked back over his shoulder and then leapt away from the log, while Victory grabbed his mace and backed up. All this happened in a matter of seconds, and I had no time to process what was happening before something rammed into me from behind.
I hit the ground, face-down in the dirt, with the weight of two hooves pressing down on the back of my armour. My helmet rolled away from me and my shield fell off. I tried to look back at my attacker, but as soon as my head was turned, the feral changeling leaned down and sunk its fangs into my exposed neck. I screamed.
More ferals came out of the forest, driving the Chaos Paladins and the White followers back into the centre of the clearing. Pilgrimage hid behind the others as they drew weapons and engaged the changelings. I was getting no help, so I grabbed my enemy by the head with my armoured hooves and tried to pull it away. However, its teeth were sunk deep into my flesh, and trying to force it off nearly made me tear my own throat out. All throughout, I kept screaming loudly.
I started simply punching the changeling in the face, trying to make it let go on its own, but I was already feeling woozy, and every passing second I grew more frightened. Finally, I remembered my broadsword, and used my magic to lift it out of its scabbard and raise it above us both. I intended to bring it down and decapitate the changeling, but as soon as my horn lit up, it noticed. It let go of my neck, and before I could even try to move away, it instead bit my horn, renewing my screaming and causing me to drop the sword before I could strike.
My sword came down, just not with force. It grazed the changeling's neck and slid off onto the grass, making the changeling hiss and finally back off from me. A small amount of green bled from its neck, which it held with a hoof, but my own was now a river of red, my vision was getting blurry, and I was more terrified than I had ever been in any of my lives. I knew what this was. This was changeling venom, an emotion-amplifying toxin. And right now, it was turning my already extreme fear of death into something maddening.
I rolled over onto my stomach and tried to crawl back onto all fours. The changeling got ready to attack again, but was then suddenly splattered into chunks of black chitin and green fluid, some of which hit me in globs. Paladin Small Nicety removed his axe from the ruin that had once been a changeling. He smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I had no idea what the gesture meant, nor did I really care at that moment, because I was delirious and covered in dead changeling.
"No...! Noooo...!" I moaned, writhing in the grass as I tried to scrape the changeling gore off myself. "Notch! Nooooootch!"
I kept trying to get up, but I kept collapsing. I couldn't lift my hooves, either because of the blood loss, or because of the changeling venom. But there was no doubt which of the two was causing the hallucinations. The Asylum demon was crushing Notch into paste again right before my eyes, and something must have overloaded my brain, because suddenly I was also having spasms, and my screams turned into choking and gurgling. Or maybe that was the hole in my neck?
I'm not sure how long it took me to die. My last moments were completely incoherent. Noise and colour and feeling all became random, and when it finally all began to fade, I welcomed the peaceful oblivion.
I woke up feeling like I was on fire. The first thing I did was open my eyes. The second thing I did was scream again. This time, at least, I was able to roll over in the grass and run my hooves over myself, trying in vain to locate the source of the pain and stop it. I couldn't, of course. This was phantom pain from the last thing my body was feeling before I died, in this case, changeling venom coursing through my veins. It was funny, really. The venom didn't hurt when it was actually in me, but now that it was presumably gone and no longer affecting my emotions, it was agonising.
Eventually, it faded on its own, and I lay face-down in the grass again. I stayed there for a few minutes, breathing heavily, before eventually trying to pick myself up. The pain had passed, so I was done crying and screaming. Now I was groaning instead, at the general misery of it all. I sat on my rump and blinked in the sunlight, disoriented by it now that I could finally see properly again.
I was still in the clearing. My companions were gone, but the forest floor was littered with changeling corpses in various states of dismemberment. There must have been at least fifteen. The paste that had once been my attacker was right where Nicety had left it. I instinctively flinched when a memory of Notch's death flickered across my thoughts. My sword, shield, and helmet all lay on the grass still, and my saddlebags were over by the log, having apparently fallen off in the fight. They hadn't robbed me, at least, but Sir Penance had apparently held true to his promise to abandon me if I died.
"Praise the sun," I grumbled to myself, going over to pick up my things. "Praise the bloody sun."
I shouldn't have been angry about it. I'd been warned that this would happen, and I had accepted the risk before coming on the trip. It didn't stop me from feeling betrayed anyway. But they had killed the changelings for me, at least, and as I discovered when I picked up my sword and sheathed it with my magic, they hadn't allowed the ferals to devour my soul, either. I took a deep breath and tried to let my anger go. They'd done nothing wrong by me. I had to remember that.
"Okay..." I said, putting my saddlebags back on. "Lesson learned. Don't ever let my guard down."
I put my helmet back on and lowered the visor. From now on, I decided, I wouldn't ever take it off unless I knew for a fact that it was safe. No more carelessness. If I was going to survive here, I needed to foster a healthy sense of paranoia.
"Right... Now... which way to Ponyville...?"
After a minute of uncertainty, trying to determine which way we'd come from, I finally picked a path and began walking in what I hoped was a southern direction. This time, there was no laughter, no conversation, and nobody to explain things to me. There was only the sounds of the forest, and the clinking and rattling of my armour.
"Hm? What have we here? You look awfully raggedy... Times are grim; the least you can do is look sharp. Don't you dare meet M'lady like that!"