"If this damn rain keeps up we'll be sitting here till the last star goes out..." A sick, exhausted and exasperated adolescent muttered under his breath as he bundled up to avoid the chill of the wild winds. He and his companions had taken shelter in a hidden cave in an out of the way riven to wait out the horrendous storm. His brown cloak and hood was ragged and caked in dried dirt, his black boots were drying next to the bonfire burning brightly in the cavern, his shirt and trousers were wrinkled and scratched and his disposition was bitter to say the least. His unkempt brown hair was matted, his baby blue eyes glazed over and his ragged beard was in desperate need for a shave, The pale, frail and weary traveler was never a hiker or even an explorer and his globe trotting mission was taking a heavy toll on him. As he continued to flip through the dark green tome he'd borrowed from his former master he couldn't help but sniffle from the cold.
"Don't worry, we'll be high and dry before another one of them blinks out, so quit your whining and take this." A loud, deep and obnoxious sounding woman reassured as she stopped sharpening her valatite sword and chucked a small grey sack of medicine at the smaller, weaker boy. Her heavy, reinforced silver armour glimmered in the light of the fire, proudly displaying the lion rampant on her breastplate. She was noticeably taller, beefier and gung-ho compared to the only other Human in their motley crew. Her legs and arms were as heavily armoured and by her legs rested her valatite kite shield; the light blue and white of the metal emphasizing the orange lion emblazoned on it. Her closed helmet was resting on the rock she was resting on allowing the teen to see her mocking grin. Her short, self cut brown hair and yellow eyes suited her arguably cute or arguably rugged face. She had a few small scars and cuts on her left cheek and a small burn above her right eye yet she was far from menacing; if anything her oft calming smile and heroic aura inspired confidence. Her thin lips had a small cut obscured by the tongue she was sticking out in response to the glower boy's expression.
"I wouldn't be 'whining' about being cold if you hadn't knocked me into that swamp!" He barked back as he opened the pouch and swallowed the dry, red powder within and downed it with a quick swig from his canteen.
"You're just mad I got to kill the troll while you were swimming with the fishes; 'sides, if I hadn't you would've been plastered on a dozen trees or did you not see it swing its massive club at you?" She mocked, causing the man to stand up and walk over to her. Despite being a foot shorter he was still determined to stare the knight down.
"I suppose you've never heard of a magical shield before you dolt, I would've been more than fine." He scoffed as he rolled his eyes at her.
"You're only able to even cast those little bubbles because you seem to think spending all day and night cooped up in a musty tower is fun, how exactly are you suppose to be the future heir of our house when I'm a bigger man than you?" She teased with a challenging grin, causing the little man to growl and drop his book.
"Tough talk coming from a girl who's still scared of the dark AND chickens! You know how many cockatrices I've killed thanks to my books? I guess we can't all get stuck on boulder gnome duty like some 'renowned knights' I know." He remarked at her, causing her to go red in the face with embarrassment as she dropped her shining sword on the ground after placing it in its decorative sheath.
"Oh ho ho, you're going to regret that..." She promised as she took off her gauntlets and cracked her knuckles as her smaller rival merely hopped from foot to foot and raised his noodle like arms in a boxer pose. Before they could take their mutual hate out on each other's faces, a pair of large, yellow and furry hands grabbed them and pushed them away from each other.
"Now, now you two, siblings shouldn't fight! Look at those two over there, how come they can get along but not you?" The gentle giant of the group lectured as he used his hands as a barrier between the brother and sister, with nothing else to do they looked at Golden Hammer for a second or two before looked back at each other with scowls and thoughts of how they could've won the brawl.
For his part, Golden was somehow able to stay happy go lucky despite the horrid weather and feuding friends. His large, bushy visage was almost stuck in a beaming smile and his black beard was the scruffiest looking thing on his head aside from his flowing obsidian hair with a few braids around his fringe. His lengthy ivory horns were most likely sharper than his wit yet his gentle brown eyes held a wisdom unlike any other. Perhaps it was the years of battle, the good times he'd had or simply that he's an optimistic fellow but the eight foot tall Minotaur was easily the most insightful person in the lot. Despite his calm nature, the arguing Humans were growing on his nerves after two weeks of near constant battle.
"Listen you two, I don't like being a mean person but if you don't get along..." He stopped his little warning to pull out his massive, bloodied stone hammer off his back and dropped it into the ground for emphasis. "...I might have to just knock you two out and carry you to wherever we're heading and none of us want that." He finished with an alarming grin as he placed it away. The hammer was probably as old as the veteran Paladin, the black wooden handle weathered though still as strong as the day he snapped it off along with the solid block of blessed stone. The square stone block was ripped off, by him, from an old Celestial monastery and he believes it helps give him strength in the face of overwhelming odds; most simply chalk it up to his bulging muscles and years of training but divine intervention works as well. His gold and stone armour was dented from maces, burnt black in patches from perturbed mages, riddled with fixed holes thanks to archers and was generally seen as a wreck before his first crusade was over yet the bull mended it himself and still wears it proudly sans helmet and shoes.
"Come on Goldy, you know I could've taken him!" The mage's sister announced as he picked up his master's favourite book.
"Most likely, but we need a healer and it's been years since I so much as looked at a piece of divine text not meant to be used to inflict pain on the unholy." The guardian bellowed, half jokingly, as the apprentice nodded at him and walked off. He didn't want to stick around for when she inevitably walks away from Golden because he knew she'd come at him running. So, instead he decided to check in on the lookout. Walking up the jagged slope to the obscured entrance to the cave, he was shocked to see her missing. Panicking, he looked all around, on the ceiling and behind rock piles, before giving up.
"Okay Chris, stop worrying me before I walk out into the sto-"
"Call me Chris again, let's see how long it'll take Golden to pry me off you." The two toned, sultry yet violent voice announced from behind the paranoid wizard, who in turn jumped in alarm.
"Goddess! Damn it Chrysalis, I can't have three people in the group threaten to kick the crap out of me in one evening." He shouted out in alarm as he turned to face the titular Changeling who simply giggled mockingly at his frightened dance.
"It's not a threat, though I imagine you have more to worry from me then with your blockhead sister; you have been practicing correct?" She questioned, wanting to make sure the only other spell caster she saw as competent wasn't going to die.
"Of course I have, I'm not going to get caught with my trousers down...Again." He said smugly before remembering that one time. To emphasis his point, he pulled aside the right side of his cloak to show his hidden scabbard and short sword.
"Changelings might have little in the way of metal but when they make a blade they make them well; keep it close and keep it sharp, just because you're casting spells doesn't mean they won't rush you like your moronic sister or that aging Minotaur." She cautioned with a surprisingly serious and not so condescending look. As lightning flashed outside, giving him a quick but well lit look at her, he couldn't help but wonder why she was always snarky and looked smug.
The Changeling, like almost all of them, had black and dark grey chitin that was almost as tough as armour and shinier. Her seaweed green hair was held back in a small ponytail and her fringe was unrestrained to cover a small portion of the left side of her face. She had large green eyes with slitted pupils that always seemed to watch you no matter where you were. Her fangs dripped with verbal venom and her face was almost always smirking at someone or glaring with contempt. Her body was rather lithe and her green carapace was hidden by a thick, warm set of black leather armour that covered the bulk of her body while leaving her head and most of her hole riddled limbs exposed. She had a variety of small bags and pouches full of an assortment of items, mostly poisonous, along with a multitude of knifes and blades, also poisonous. Despite being a head smaller than the little man she never failed to spook him.
"I still remember the vital points to hit and how to pierce armour, though an incendiary spell at that range could melt the armour onto their skin...Still, stabbing them does have a more pleasant smell afterward. Your watch should be over by now, want to go grab something from the larder? I'm famished." He offered pointing in the direction of the campfire.
"You're always hungry, and although I don't need food to stave off hunger I might have a small bite if we're not in dire need of supplies." She conceded as she led the way back to the small group.
"You know, I still can't for the life of me figure out why you came with us. We all got some sort of motivation aside from the treasure, but well...You're still royalty, what's it matter to you if you get more treasure?" He pondered aloud with a small air of suspicion causing Chrysalis to smile at him in a somewhat sweet somewhat patronizing way.
"You're a Hierophant's apprentice correct?" She countered with her own question, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, though I don't-"
"And how would you describe your life up until a few months ago?" She interrupted, stopping to look at him as she felt his emotions shift inside until he came upon a mixture of sadness yet pride.
"I'd have to say it's been pretty uneventful and sheltered; the grandest thing I've done was my first spell I invented and all it's good for is fireworks." He admitted with a huff of resignation as he flicked his wrist and formed a sigil in his hand using the strange wordless magic Humans were fond of to cause a small cluster of multicoloured explosions which impressed Chrysalis somewhat.
"A new spell, even a mundane one, is a remarkable skill for an apprentice such as yourself, but I digress. Now think for a moment, what kind of life do you think I've had as a Queen's daughter?" She asked him, looking him dead in the eyes. She felt him get uncomfortable as he looked away from her; she noted how he always loved to challenge people but never liked people trying to intimidate him or stare him down.
"Well...I guess it would've been pretty sheltered as well." He guessed, figuring out where she was going with this.
"Exactly. I've spent the majority of my life so far sitting in a gloomy castle being told what's to be expected of me and how to act and I'll tell you the same thing my 'etiquette instructor' told my mother. A royal can't expect to leave a grand legacy if she doesn't even know the world she's leaving a mark on. I didn't just leave for the treasure or to stick it to her, I did it so I could see the kind of dirt ball I'm going to rule over someday." She announced with no small air of arrogance and with a rather villainous cackle.
"You're, uh, dead set on being a conqueror?" He questioned, somewhat nervous he might be becoming allies with a future tyrant.
"Don't worry, I'll remember you when I'm sitting on the throne. Who knows, perhaps you could be the Royal Seer, ahahaha!" She joked with a flick of her deep green tail. He was peeved at her as it flicked him in the nose but he knew she'd most likely actually attack him if he tried something and unlike his sister he didn't know when she'd stop; sighing and shaking his head at his crazy group of friends, he went back to the campfire and sat down next to the last two members of the gang.
"Ah Alistair! Stopped whining about the cold have you?" The grey Earth Pony teased as she smiled at him, her soft and benevolent voice betraying her jerkish tendencies.
"No Tia, I've just got more things to worry about...Namely starving, pass the meat and veggies and I'll cook us some grub." He offered with a smile back at her as he decided to let it go so he could eat sooner.
"Hey Aurora, pass the food." She ordered as she looked at his sister, causing her to roll her eyes and hold up the magically protected bag.
"You're a working type aren't ya? Then get off your fat rump and do it yourself." She responded as she shook it at her, the whole group sans Celestia laughed in varying degrees as they watched her get infuriated over her one weakness: people pointing out her slight pudginess.
"You are indeed gaining an alarming amount of weight on this life or death quest sister, are you secretly eating double the rations? What do you think Alistair?" Her sister chimed in with a small, barely noticeable grin as she remained staring down at the scroll held in her azure magical grasp.
The two of them were inseparable and insufferable to each other, like Alistair and Aurora but less physically hostile. Celestia was wearing a bulky, decorative yet powerful set of enchanted armour that covered her whole body without slowing the muscular pony down somehow. The platinum armour was a blazing emblem of her people's magic ancestry, power and to a lesser extent their vanity. Despite the Unicorn colours of platinum armour, purple fur lining around the neck and some dark blues it bore homage to all three races as all three contributed to its construction. The Pegasi gathered the raw resources from atop a treacherous mountain range, the Earth Ponies smelted them and constructed the armour and their weapons and the Unicorns enchanted the set. She wore a helm that protected the neck and sides of the head thanks to the wonders of chain mail and allowed her to see unimpaired. It might not be as protective or as dazzling as Aurora's helmet but for a keen fighter, even one as meager as Celestia, sight and clarity in battle is key. At her side rested an extensive, flashy halberd with a spear head at the top of the pole, ax head as the primary weapon and a small hammer head on the opposite side. Her other tool of survival was a large shield that seemed more like a wall of reinforced metal then a standard shield. Only the toughest of Earth Ponies could've lifted a pile of metal that sturdy yet somehow she made it look easy. On the crest of the shield rested the symbols of the three tribes: wind, earth and magic represented through a circle of emerald Earth Ponies, diamond Pegasi and Sapphire Unicorns galloping in a circle. It looked unnecessary and gaudy but that's Pony weaponry for you. Despite her helmet, her long and sparkly pink mane slipped through sometimes hiding her magenta eyes. Her smiling sun cutie mark was hammered into the flanks of the armour and decorated through the use of golden plates. She was almost as tall as Alistair and he found that particularly emasculating.
"Oh, I think from her size she'd be eating at least trip-GAH!" Alistair's jape shared with Luna was rudely interrupted by Celestia as she wrapped her hooves around his throat. As he was beginning to cast a fireball at her, they felt Luna's magic yank her off him.
"Sweet Sister, who'll be around to patch you up the next time you get broad sided by a Giant if you kill Alistair in this dank cave?" She rhetorically asked as he massaged his throat while Celestia glowered at him; Aurora gave her the stink eye and Chrysalis looked at Alistair disapprovingly.
"Do not make me knock you out cold as well! I may be older than all of you but I don't enjoy being a babysitter to a crowd of teenagers with weapons." Gold yelled, surprising the members of the group who couldn't read emotions.
"Yeah...Also, no one's allowed to hurt Alistair aside from me! It's in a contract he made me sign when we were kids and since a Hierophant authorized it it's technically a legal thing." Aurora cut in, causing me to chuckle at the memory of my 'sweets for punches' deal I chalked up.
"Worry not Alistair, your combative skills may be...Lacking, but while I'm around no harm shall come to you." Luna reassured as she looked up from her captivating scroll to smile at him. The mare was probably the nicest person Alistair knew aside from his own master and he thanked the Goddess for having one person in the team who's yet to hit him, accidentally or otherwise. She, much like him, wore a much more simple and bland cloak and light armour set common among travelling mages of all creeds. She wore a black cloak that hid her purple fur and silvery blue mane and horn. She wore a plain white button up shirt under a brown vest and her hooves were decorated with a series of charms and accessories; she also wore a silver circlet with a moonstone embedded in it that connected to her horn. Across her flanks were a pair of stitched on crescent moons like her cutie mark. Her cerulean eyes were always wide and curious despite her reserved and mellow voice. She always spoke politely as well so that's nice. Unlike him, she only kept scrolls, tomes and loose pages in her saddle bags that were applied as powerful conduits when she either can't remember an incantation or if a simpler spell won't cut it. Also, she had no healing or protective spells so the two of them standing side by side in the middle of the party during battles was a common occurrence.
"Here, you cook the food; you're such a hothead so it shouldn't take long to heat it up." Celestia tried to insult, only getting a laugh from him in response. He quickly dropped some meat, vegetables and some stock into a caste iron pot they lugged around and quickly began making a simple broth that had Golden and Aurora already drooling. As Alistair sat down between two good friends, watching Golden Hammer and his sister laugh over stories, listened to Luna go on about magical theories to him and saw Celestia train in the corner of the camp he couldn't help but grin with happiness. It didn't matter if they were sitting in a damp cave, it didn't mean anything to him that the stars were blinking out and the sun was going cold and the fact that they were being pursued by the Undead meant nothing...For the first time, he was seeing the world with a band of heroes he'd come to call friends...He was...Content and thrilled for the future...As he continued to cook the meal, he couldn't help but wonder where Chrysalis-
"You could've probably stabbed Celestia when she was choking you, you know, or is all my teaching for nothing?" Chrysalis scowled as she seemed to appear out of nowhere right next to Alistair, causing him to jump in fright once more and to cause Chrysalis to laugh derisively as well.
As light fluttered into the Lost Archive, illuminating both the newly restored and marvelous sights of the Archive and the rubble and ruin of lost glory, the Coven of the Last Hierophant began to stir from their slumber and rushed to perform their duties. The small alcove near the base of the colossal building had been refurbished into a base camp of sorts for the various groups who'd go on expeditions into both the cavernous depths of the Nox Magicae Archives and the precarious towers and wings of Celestial magic high above. The multiple holes in the ceiling had been covered by tarps and the ruined walls had been turned into guard posts as their alcove was the only viable way of entering on foot. The dusty, cracked floor was covered in sleeping bags, tents and even a few hovels that'd been torn down and set up multiple times; inside one of such shacks sat Faded Scroll. After what he'd heard last night sleep ended up eluding him and so he sat and meditated on what to do from this point onward. His small house of sorts was filled with artifacts of his life, the accumulation of his magically extended life and the heart of his beloved church. From his old tacticians armour, to the sword his mother gave to him, to his personal library of rare braille tomes to the most mundane and childish of toys from his youth...All of it felt hollow to him, like a sign that it was all in vain.
"Faded Scroll, are you-oh, you're awake." A large, husky Diamond Dog bitch with snow white, fluffy fur and a wild, shaggy mess of blonde hair. Her sleepy violet eyes watched her leader hobble out of his chair and walk over to her.
"Yes, I had an early rise and thought I'd meditate for a short while." He lied with a smile, trying to keep the group from panicking until he could formulate a sound way of breaking the news without also spreading mass hysteria and depression.
"Good, meditation is key to both physical and mental well being; even an old codger like yourself could use some of it." She lectured with a grin as she poked fun at her old teacher. The soft spoken Dog towered over most of the camp, even rivaling some of the tougher Minotaur guards, and slouched over so much that when she stops using her two, muscular arms to hold herself up and stands straight she's a beast of a Dog; though to most everyone's surprise the heavyset hound focused on her innate powers instead of her physical brawn. Her fur covered, cute visage was decorated with black lines facing upwards diagonally from her small eyes and red circles in a vertical pattern across her high cheeks. Despite her fur being warm enough to melt a snowman and their local, she still wore the thick, decorated and coveted garb of a Grandmaster, the highest position within the coven with only four living masters at any given time. Her body was wrapped in a dark blue robe with gold accenting and she also went the extra mile and wore a brown cloak and scarf that protected her from the environment but not much else. The only other items she wore were a pair of white, blessed scrolls she'd wrapped around her front paws. The pure white scrolls never seem to fade, get torn, burnt or damaged in any noticeable way. In her palm she'd painted on the black runic symbols of the earth, magical winds and inner strength. They seemed pretty to most people but were downright terrifying to one who adheres to the Last Hierophant's teachings; they were a marker of just how far she'd come as a master of her art.
"I know more about meditation then you do Snow, never forget who was your master after all." He reminded with a welcomed smirk as he was able to push the horrible night aside and simply enjoy a moment with his star pupil. Despite his tone and facade, Snowfall was able to see through his ruse and frowned worriedly as she followed the grey stallion outside.
"What's wrong Scroll?" She inquired as he limped onward towards the massive stairs that led all the way up to the Hierophant's study; it was a feat of athleticism that he was able to hike the twenty flights of stairs up into the increasingly unstable cathedral of knowledge.
"Nothing dear, just some hurdles involving our shared goal. Nothing to be worried over of course." He bluffed with a smile as he tried to climb his way back up. As she watched him wheeze and huff, his hunger, thirst and lack of sleep catching up on him, she smiled as she picked up the frail old man and walked up the stairs.
"You know I can see through your mask, the only real advantage to being trained by a Telepath is that I'm pretty good at reading people's minds myself." She jested as she smiled tenderly as Faded fidgeted in her grasp.
"Snow, you know how I feel about being carried around like a, like a baby." The wise old mentor muttered as he tried to carry the conversation while avoiding the subject and getting over the weird situation he was in. The beams of morning light falling in through the fractured stain glass windows of various hues high above them painted the sour man's face despite the hood he was fond of wearing.
"Oh, you're far, far, far from being a young babe, the wrinkles and crotchety attitude towards helpers gives it away; at your age you should be used to people looking after you." She said as she ignored her trainer's annoyed sigh.
"I'm used to it my dear, but I don't enjoy it." He clarified as he looked up and saw the long path ahead of them.
"Please, all you enjoy is a dusty book, rubble and boring kids to death with your lessons." She mocked, showing her deep and profound respect for the old geezer. "Come on, cheer up, this is a wondrous day! The first day with our true king among us!" She cheered triumphantly, unaware of the darker truths.
"Yes, it truly is wonderful..." He replied as her enthusiasm was only worsening his mental state as he continued to fret over the status of everything. Snowfall grimaced at his bizarre flippancy and stoic behavior but chalked it up to the pressures of running the tight knit and scholarly band combined with integrating the Lord Hierophant into the new world. A lot had changed since he'd died, the advent of modern magic, the Equestrians and the reemergence of the Crystal Empire, the Griffon's increase in raiders coupled with their increasing reliance of technology and warfare, the Changeling's increased aggression and...The fall of Humanity. As she contemplated the ramifications of how he'd react, stepping past rows of ruined statues, long since broken and hastily constructed ramparts, the smashed windows giving way to the stone grey, yellow and blood red of the shifting sands outside and the dust of partially ruined skeletons still manning their defenses she considered the future of her home and how the world would react to their rise in power.
After a short period of carrying the perturbed Telepath and wondering what was wrong, they came across the massive double doors of the main study. Though cracked, lined in vines and almost impossible to move without the use of Weight Manipulation magic it was now pristine, covered in Ancient Human script, the wood and metal door a varnished and healthy light brown with the lion and raven emblem carved into the center high above them. The stone floor, walls and even plant life surrounding it gradually changed from pure and tame to wild and archaic so gradually it almost looked intentional.
"Woah...This is...This is beautiful." Snowfall exclaimed in awe as she delicately put her former mentor down who in turn couldn't help but be impressed at his idol's powers. With a small amount of effort, she was able to push open the door and walk into the shimmering hall.
"Goddess be praised..." Snow prayed as she bared witness to the greatest collection of lost text and scripture she'd ever seen. The marble floor covered in stakes of newly restored yet homeless books stacked neatly, the shelves of old world magic touching the floor and roof in perfect symmetry row after row and level after level. The valatite chandelier high above offered illumination to the top levels, its blue candles burning perfectly but never melting. The walls were lined with rich tapestries detailing the rise of Alistair and his sister accumulating in the gut wrenchingly beautiful murals depicting Humanity's rise, dominion over magic and the act of Alistair's ascension. The room was almost like a gift wrapped perfectly to the coven, a prize for the grueling and costly work they'd all put into bringing the lost world's true custodian of magic back from the brink. The same custodian who was lying on the floor, unconscious, next to an overturned table and chair and surrounded by unknown and burnt sigils. Alarmed, Faded Scroll ran forward unnaturally fast for a man his age.
"My lord!" He exclaimed in fear as he dropped down next to him and felt for a pulse, only to breath out a sigh of relieve when he heard Alistair groan in annoyance and being woken up.
"Damn it all, it wasn't a dream..." He muttered darkly, softly enough so Snow and Fade couldn't hear. Snow also took a knee beside her god and reached into her large white satchel full of general supplies and pulled out a huge, Diamond Dog sized skin of water.
"Lord Hierophant Alistair, are you alright?!" The overstrung Dog asked in a soft yet worried tone while offering the container. As he opened his two toned eyes, he laid them on the bottle, took it from her hands softly and took a long, deep gulp of the cool spring water.
"Physically yes, thanks for asking...You guys want any?" He reassured with a stoic expression before he offered the flask only to receive two polite nos. "More for me." He stated with a despondent expression as he downed half of it before looking back at them.
"If I might be so bold, my lord, why were you sleeping on the floor? We had a cottage constructed in anticipation of your revival while you waited for us to clear the rubble to your chambers." Faded Scroll queried as he cocked his head slightly while Alistair rose and popped his back into place with a grunt.
"Never liked walking down those stairs and I didn't want to use the magic necessary to lose this form to bother you people, besides I only just fixed the floor so I felt like breaking it in....Though historically that's always been a two person job." He lied before joking to himself to try and distract his brain from the crushing reality of his situation. "I'm sorry, have we been formally introduced? I think I would remember a Diamond Dog as lovely as you." Alistair complimented with a slight smile, trying to act like everything was normal, as he nodded at Snowfall while stretching his arms. His simple words still caused the looming Dog to blush slightly, not yet used to immortals flattering her.
" N-No Lord Alistair, we've not been formally introduced to each other. I'm Grandmaster Snowfall, a member of the council that guides your flock and former pupil to Faded Scroll. I-I'm honoured to finally meet you face to face." She said with a deep bow that looked somewhat awkward from a Diamond Dog. Not one for formality, Alistair placed a hand on her shoulder and offered a soft grin to calm her nerves.
"The pleasures all mine, I owe a lot to you and Faded and I'm glad to meet you finally. Also don't bow to me please, I never liked it when people treat me differently and last night was enough fan fair for me." He tried to lighten the mood by acting humble and it seemed to work on Snowfall who was genuinely ecstatic to talk to her idol, though Faded who was watching from the side was deeply conflicted. He never liked watching someone lie or being dishonest...But the truth, and Alistair's blunt words, would crush her...
"Ahem, Lord Alistair, the envoy's are soon to be under way; would you like to see them off?" Faded Scroll informed then offered, derailing their little meet and greet, as Alistair turned away to look at him and to a lesser extent rub the sleep out of his eyes and yawn.
"Yeah sure, why not. Lead the way old timer." He ordered as he watched the younger mage pass him and walked slightly behind him with Snowfall who was absolutely giddy despite her soft voice. As Alistair mentally fortified himself for several minutes of wearing a mask and acting cool, he couldn't help but wonder how fucked the rest of the archive was. Stepping out into the shattered grand hall, seeing the broken statues of Human mages of lore, the shattered ceiling high above, the collapsed stairs leading to nowhere, the shanty town below and the sight of the harrowing desert beyond the broken windows he had to suppress a wail of lament and resigned himself to a prolonged, painful sigh. The others said nothing in response, unsure how to console the Hierophant.
"Well, at least this problem I can fix with some magic and grit..." He calmly announced, as he nodded for Faded to lead him down the old and familiar yet crumbling stairs to his once splendid entrance way. Snow, ever excited, went to ask him all kinds of questions of his past life but as she went to say something, she heard a soft voice in her head.
"Don't, he seems agitated by something." Faded Scroll communicated, knowing damn well what was wrong. Alistair, unbeknownst to the two of them, heard his little message and scoffed slightly figuring that he hadn't broken the bad news yet. The long walk down was quiet, tense and unpleasant but only Alistair fully knew why. As he cleared the last flight of stairs, holding onto the railing for a semblance of emotional support and a connection to his dead world, he couldn't help but notice the hundreds of eyes staring at him. Hundreds upon hundreds of thoughts ran through their minds...Hope, prosperity, divinity, wonderment, youthful spirit and a sense of fulfillment and belonging...He could break it all with a single, painful message...He was tempted, so tempted, to simply kick them all out and start from scratch, isolated in his small pocket of existence, but figured it was kinder to let them loiter until he constructed a proper residence for them and a school for the young, starry eyed colts, fillies, pups and so on...Perhaps, he thought, he could finally go through with his age old project of constructing a proto-city around the Immortalis Bibliotheca. Of course he'd need more followers to populate said town which he hated the thought of but if he honestly wanted his cherished archive to be the beacon it once was he'd need to raise it above its former stature...Which meant spreading the news of its and his revival...Which meant attracting former enemies, new ones and possibly more fanatics or possible greedy, malicious leeches who'd use his magic for evil...But also meant saving the only thing he had left to fret over aside from the handful of cultists gawking at him. Putting a peg in the inevitable conundrum, he decided to strike up an important conversation with Faded Scroll.
"How many in your coven suffer from a loss of limb, sight, hearing, a disease, etcetera?" He asked, snapping the two leaders to attention.
"fifty three, myself included. Why?" Faded Scroll stated without a hint of confusion before questioning him.
"You people brought me back to life, I didn't want to come back and this world is somehow more bothersome and terrifying than the one I died in, but you people still did a lot in my name...I owe it to you people to fix any immediate problems and I'd say a debilitating illness or disability would be a good start." He clarified, his face was expressionless but his voice conveyed a sliver of gratitude.
"Lord Alistair, that's beyond generous..." Snow exclaimed in surprise, her often calm expression shifting to immense shock and relief. Faded Scroll was unable to connect a sentence, dumbfounded at his sudden act of kindness combined with visions of his prior meltdown and total abandonment of his organization; he was able to shake of the sudden, yet growingly common sense of confusion and beamed at him joyously.
"You humble us with your promise, my lord. I'll notify the injured, elderly and ill." Faded Scroll praised with a deep, respectful bow.
"Think nothing of it...Oh, and halt the envoy going to contact Chrysalis' hive." He ordered with a blank expression.
"That'd be mine, why?" Snow inquired, cocking an eyebrow at the sudden cancellation of her hand picked teams deployment.
"Well, she's Chrysalis and if I remember her right she hates most people and would probably either turn you away or attack you since you're a rogue element in the vicinity of her 'land'. Also, I feel like if anyone should tell her I'm alive it should be me..." He informed before going silent for awhile, letting his true emotions show for a short while as a concoction of pain and nostalgia flashed before being muddied by a blank canvas.
"You know her?" She pressed, finding it queer that he'd know a supposed tyrant.
"I hope so. I need an updated map of the area and nothing more." He ordered straight forwardly and was pleased when Snow merely opened her cloak, revealing the solid stone breastplate underneath with runic etchings, and pulled out a large cloth map. As he nodded his head in appreciation, he mentally prepared himself for a blunt update on his treasured lands. He breathed in, opened the map, and held his breath in a somber lack of surprise. Nothing. The map was littered with nothing. There were small landmarks like the Archive, a few ruined towns and farm houses that marked the sandy, ash stained plain. Among the incoherent cluster of debris were markers and constructs from his former home that still stood strong, like Martik's Spear, the great, valatite mesa jutting from the center of the barren wastes. As he glimpsed at the depictions of his former home, he noted the rough location of his old friend's hideaway a few hours north of Martik's Spear and closed it. He knew where to go.
"Thank you, that'll be all." He announced with a solemn, yet quivering voice, that broke Faded’s heart and caused Snow's confidence in his iron will to weaver.
"L-Lord Hierophant, are you-" She started as she reached out to grasp his shoulder with her soft, yet muscular hand to try and sooth the shaking figure only to see him brush it off.
"I said, that'll be all. I'll be back before nightfall." He barked at her as he turned and glared at her. She wasn't afraid of him, she wasn't afraid of anything that could be killed with enough grit, but something in his eyes...Something primal caused her determination to falter.
"Faded, see the envoy's off for me. I would've liked to myself but if I'm going to make it there before night sets I'm going to have to set off early." He commanded with an even voice as he walked forward and sat on the sot covered ground as cultists watched him in anticipation of something.
"But, this trip would take a single person with no transport at least a week...How are-" His logical question was brushed off as his revered leader burst into a light violet flame and dissolved into nothing once more, before morphing into a giant, armoured and robed silver raven. His feathers changed colours like his mystic form, his unblinking eyes shone azure and infernal and his silver body was covered in a blank robe and plated metal.
"Simple, I'll fly. Keep the place clean while I'm gone and don't trash it more than it already is." He interrupted telepathically with a cocky tone, almost excited to use his favourite form. With a flag of his cosmic wings, he soared into the air and flew through a ruined, circular window and out into the free world; he left behind a trail of dissolving feathers and stardust as she flew. As Faded Scroll watched him soar of, unsure whether to take solace in his ability to keep moving on or to hover on his words of despair, Snowfall watched the god like being fade out of view and began to wonder what would have transpired in the events prior. She wanted to warn him of the outside world, but from his tone, his body language and the malice in his every move...She knew he already knew long before she saw him.
As she watched him fade away, she pitied whoever would test his patience.
The chilling, desert air that brushed against his feathered form would've been a welcomed respite from the turmoil within were it not for the missing scent of pine and screeching Wyverns to remind him this was Valatorian air he glided on. The barren, blood stained and ashen land below him was like a bitter, hateful reminder of the ultimate injustice; a painting solely in place to mock him. Every ransacked and broken building scattered to the wild, so haplessly placed and nondescript you'd be forgiven for thinking it was one giant ruined unit, a message that all his efforts were in vain. From the fact that his haven was now merely a speck on the horizon he wagered he was now over Teriq lands. The Teriqs always complained at the sight of his castle turned archive, ragging on his experiments and always coming around should a creature escape or test go awry, and now he'd give anything to have their spiteful lineage back. The last shred of proof of their being he could spot was a collapsed rampart bearing a white and torn banner that would have once been theirs. He tried not to think, not to painfully envision, the few members of House Teriq he respected in their final hours. Did the Equestrian's kill them in combat? Did they rot away in a cell somewhere? Did they swallow poison or feel the air rush past them as they refused to be taken prisoner? Or did the final insult inflicted by the crown wipe them out? All the same, the blank banner said enough to him.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours and the hours whispered madness into his mind. Miles of sand. Miles of rubble. Miles of beasts and miles of dead beasts wearing the skin of people. The land was death incarnate. The sky was empty sans the cruel sun, the ground was barren and salted and the horizon showed nothing but a solid structure of corroded valatite. Mistake upon mistake. Massacre upon massacre. House upon forgotten house. Eight, he'd passed eight different markers of former castles and all of them were indicated through memory alone and all of them chastised him for his failed efforts to save them all. They were all proud, all pious and all noble in their own right. They were Human and now he was the last living thing who knew of their glory. He didn't know if it was the cold wind of the dunes or the ghosts of former lords, but either way they told him everything he didn't want to hear.
They told them how his land was razed.
They told him how his people burned alive.
How they suffered as he slept peacefully.
How they all perished because he was too slow.
Because he wasn't willing to act.
He struggled not to tell himself their deaths were his fault.
Their protests told him otherwise.
The mental assault and voices halted as he physically impacted against the deteriorated and crumbling Spear of Martik with a soft thud. The once radiant metal long since lost its luster. The tip showed signs of erosion and the base, which was rapidly approaching, held feeble marks of insects trying to mine the last great symbol of Mankind. As he smashed into the ground, losing form either from incoherence or pain, he shaped himself back into his Human body and simply stared. He got up and stared. He despised the clump of metal that defiantly jutted from the ground. He always told them how it wasn't an act of gods, how it was most likely caused by magic long ago, but they still saw it as a sign of Martik the warrior god's favor. They worshiped it, they prayed to it and eventually the fools built a city around it. They built churches with pillars that touched the sky and connected them to the monolithic mound through the use of multi coloured rope. They taught naive children and the idiots of Mart that Martik fought against the Demons of Chaos and plunged his spear into the leader's heart where their city was constructed. They boasted about how their metals and weapons were blessed by their god. They forced recruits of the local militia to scale the Spear in a haze to sort out the weak from the strong, so many weak bodies were squashed against the ground like his should've. The vanity of Mart, the stupidity of Mart, the zeal of Mart and the hubris of Man was all symbolized in this one, benign piece of metal. out of all the idols of the Goddess and Gods, all the cities, all the lost institutes of knowledge, all the houses, all the lands...This useless, obscene and vile structure still stood. It was broken, hacked at, crumbling and forgotten yet it still stood. All of his trials and tribulations, his dead friends and slain enemies, his fallen countrymen and lost childhood amounted to a crumbling Archive, a field of nothing and whispers and a pillar of everything wrong in the country he fought for.
He laughed in spite of himself. He guffawed loudly for all the nothing to hear. He cheered with the wind and collapsed into the ash as he yelled out at nothing but the Spear. He laughed, and laughed until it turned into a cold, malicious roar of mirth and as he approached it he kept laughing. As he placed his hands on it and watched it turn a pale blue and turn back to the normal rusted shade of metal he pounded his pale fists into it with all his might. Chunks of metal went flying and the pillar threatened to collapse as he kept pummeling one of the last landmarks of Humanity. His laugh was louder then the sound of the crumbling shine as blow after blow on the useless structure took foot after foot off it. He kept laughing in spite.
"Ha...Ha...Hahaha..." He bellowed out. His throat raspy and his fists bloody. In front of and around him laid piles of broken, rusted valatite. His matted hair was filled with shavings, his teary face twisted into a maddening grin. The mud below him was stained red from the blood that dripped onto it and the tears that fell as well. His robes were disheveled, the armour sizzled against his skin and his runes softly hummed. His eyes burned with loathing and his breaths were ragged. The pain, the pillar and the nothing...It was so damn funny to him. His frustrations dented yet still whole, he shook unevenly as he stood up tall and casted a simple spell onto his body to mend the torn open knuckles. As he turned to walk away from the destroyed metal, he sighed and placed his hand against the base and muttered a simple incantation. His runes almost burned themselves out granting him the extra power necessary to reconstruct the symbol of hubris yet he was capable of it. The metal reformed itself, the rust burned away and the valatite shined with never before seen luster. It was once more complete and looked like an actual spear of valatite. He abhorred it yet saw it as one of the last, mythical symbol of Humanity's existence and that was enough for him to allow it to exist. With his energy spent on his mindless yet calming rage, he decided to walk the rest of the way and hoped the afternoon sun would be kind to him for once.
As the dwindling light of the afternoon kissed the horizon and the hills, he came across the supposed entrance to Chrysalis' new home. The outside looked like a normal cave entrance though through years of learning and studying alongside a few of them he'd come to spot the subtle signs of a Changeling lying in wait. A slight distortion of colour or light, a shape seemingly out of place or an object you couldn't quite make out in the shadows; all of them a Changeling merely hoping you'll be stupid enough to approach them. They couldn't hurt him, at least not as an incorporeal being, without serious magical reserves though he also didn't want to offend their Queen by murdering them so he simply assumed his incorporeal form behind an outcrop of orange rocks and slipped by then by using a simple spell he'd devised to temporarily assume the colour of the world around him. The purple sky, yellow sands and orange rocks gave way to darkness and a soft, sickly green radiating from small clusters of crystals commonly found in Changeling hives. He pressed onward, relieved to be out of the sweltering sun and giddy at the encroaching events. Slipping past patrol, ambushes and the occasional sleeping soldier he soon found his way into the heart of the hive after a few embarrassing wrong turns into dead ends or resting points. The ceiling was covered in illuminating crystals, the air was alive with the sound of wings buzzing and below the concert of busy workers and soldiers patrolling and in the center stood a massive, black, spiky and heavily fortified citadel.
The green glass windows were fortified, the grounds were littered with drones lollygagging or working and the black, pike covered walls seemed impenetrable to one incapable of flight and turning invisible. As he flew over droves of drones and workers, he couldn't help but notice the abundance of heavily armed and armoured ones; it almost caused him to be shocked if it weren't for the times Chrysalis bragged about her people's smiting abilities so it was expected she'd want the best arms for her loyal forces. After sneaking onto the castle grounds and admiring some of the black bush decorations, he used his magic to assume his rarely used and tricky to pull off Changeling form. Like all races, there were subtle things that could tip people off and for Changelings it was the connection to a hive mind. The visual disguise would work flawlessly but if they stopped him they'd figure him out. With a brief flash of colours, a somewhat tall, black chitin covered, green haired changeling covered in an obscuring robe walked out of the shadows and walked into the castle with no problems. The guards seemed fooled by his 'look over there' firework spell.
"Where is she, where is she..." He muttered to himself as he walked down rows after rows of corridors only to come across a pair of heavily guarded doors that touched the chandelier adorned ceiling. Figuring there was nothing left to do but say fuck it, he walked over to the dozen or so guards and smiled.
"Is her majesty inside?" He asked calmly, confusing the mask wearing guard captain notable by his green and black armour that hugged his form.
"Of course she...Wait you're-"
"Thank you, that'll be all." He interrupted as he pushed open the doors with his magic, snapping the guards to attention and notifying everyone inside to his disguised arrival.
The throne room was everything she told him it'd be, carpeted with emerald cloth, adorned with black and green tapestries of her lineage, lined with loyal and scarily massive elite guards, rows of workers at her beck and call, stain glass windows displaying a biased account of her past featuring him and his sister at points he noted. All of these splendid features, including the obsidian statues and trophies she'd hoarded, led up to the 'crowning jewel', meaning her. She sat lazily upon an padded and comfy looking obsidian, emerald and chitin throne that was lavishly padded to make resting on it a luxury. As he approached, uncaring of the guards barking at him, the elite's snapping at attention and Chrysalis herself looking irritated at his arrival.
"I don't recall sending for a scrappy looking worker drone, so why are you?" She loudly addressed, sounding more bored and tired than angry at her disguised friends arrival, her two toned voice stunning him slightly as memories flashed through his mind.
"Just wanted to catch up with an old friend." He answered, his two toned changeling voice disguising his voice somewhat yet still caused her to question herself.
"I'm no friend to an unknown worker drone...Especially one who isn't a member of my own hive! Who are you?" She demanded once more, becoming irritated now at the insult of having a mindless drone in her hall, as she stepped down from her throne and stepped in front of the row of silver, obsidian and emerald armoured Changelings who stood at attention with great, haunting masks with wild green plumes atop them.
"Well, I'm not really a drone Chris. Come on, you remember me right?" He teased with a smarmy voice, eliciting a rise out of her as he was surrounded by the guards as he finally got too close to her for their liking.
"...What did you just call me you whelp?!" She snapped in anger as she thought of the only other person who used the age old insult and walked away. At such a close proximity, Alistair marveled at how similar she was to his memories. She was much taller and more slender, befitting a Queen, yet her seaweed green hair was mostly the same, albeit more elegant and lengthier, her fangs seemed longer and her chitin seemed thinner yet stronger as well. Her hateful, malicious look and jagged horn glowing a neon green didn't detract from the natural and somewhat unnatural beauty given to a Changeling royal. The tall, noble, violent, deceitful Changeling was almost exactly how he remembered her. For the first time since waking up, he had a genuinely warm smile.
"Oh come on Chris..." He started, segmenting his sentence as he removed his cunning facade with a blast of ethereal light to reveal the pale, handsome, immortal Human she'd thought dead. "...Can't you tell an old friend when you see one?" He finished, tearing up as he tried to stay confident in front of his last living friend.
She was paralyzed. Her magical dissipated all together, her hateful look gave way to one of surprise and long dormant sorrow. Her body language shifted so dramatically it was odd and her Changelings saw it.
"A-al?...Leave us, immediately." She commanded sternly, her subordinates flooding out of the room in a wave, leaving them alone. Her emotions gave way and for the first time in a long, long time, she wept openly.
"You...You're..." She muttered, dumbfounded at the sight of her long since buried and mourned friend. She felt a mixture of pain, distrust, fear, sorrow yet an overwhelming amount of joy. She tried to hold back the river as she watched Alistair give into his own emotions.
"I'm alive Chryssie...I'm alive again..." He reassured with a sad, discouraged smile as he approached his confidant and all but collapsed into her. "Out of everything that's warped in this world...I'm glad to see you're still the same conqueror I knew..." He joked with a choked up voice as he felt the waves of barely suppressed emotions pour out into his tired hug. The same broken and confused feelings Chrysalis was able to feel and all of them mirrored the confusion and pain that was being rediscovered deep within her.
They stood there for a long while, Alistair broken and Chrysalis wondering if this was all a long desired dream.