[Blazing's Entry]
Vanhoover was... something.
I spent all my young life in Manehattan or at my family's weekend house in the flatlands around the city. I couldn't take a single step outside the manor without seeing skyscrapers, shimmer of street lights, or hearing the distant voices of ponies. Even after moving to Canterlot, a city which had less than a quarter of Manehattan's population at the time, it didn't change. I lived in an apartment complex, I met ponies in the castle or in the crowded streets every day. Heck, the short time I spent in Ponyville felt more cramped than the day I spent in Vanhoover.
The city is devastated... well, no, that's not true. From what I heard, Corrupted had no reason or reliable way to destroy buildings en-masse. The city just crumbled during the century of Corrupted rule under the simple pressure of time along with ponies who decided to stay put and starve rather than attempt escape and fail. Now, there are trees piercing the paved streets, vines crawling up the shattered skyscrapers, and several slightly renovated buildings which used to be small restaurants or other simple estabilishments. This far from most of re-industrialized Equestria and Crystal Empire, ponies don't have the materials to rebuild something as complex as fifty-story collosi of reinforced concrete. The city is like a small village in the middle of a thick forest, only the forest here are the remnants of a civilization long gone. Their own.
About fifty thousand ponies live in Vanhoover. A rather large village, I know. The number changes because anypony can just come and take residence inside anything unoccupied with a roof, and also because while wild Corrupted usually avoid the population centers most of the city is still a hunting ground. The vast majority of ponies in there are either miners or farmers neither of which is a particularly safe job. The mining shafts reach the iron deposits spreading from the northern mountains, there is coal along the way, and many many more raw resources. I got most of that from a simple pamphlet saying: "Tired of Canterlot snobs? Move to Vanhoover, the city of the common pony! No blueblooded unicorn would set hoof anywhere close."
So that's pretty much it. Farmers grow food either inside the city or in heavily guarded areas around to keep the ponies from having to leave. Miners mine fresh materials traded via long caravan treks with the Crystal Empire or Canterlot. Only a small fraction of the raw resources is refined here, main reason being the lack of ponies for a proper large-scale economy. The oldest job known to ponykind, whorseing, is also flourishing, because there is nothing hornier than a miner stuck for five days in some cramped space accompanied by other burly stallions, or mares who pass for stallions in the dim light of torches. Met a bunch of changelings who were practically glowing with stolen power of love, well, lust. Weekends in the city must be akin to some zebra fertility carnivals I heard about... ages ago. Speaking of zebras, Des told me that the corruption spread only across the Equestrian continent, leaving the rest of the world untainted.
However, when I got to the biggest gathering of ponies in a large square of Vanhoover, Desert Shade showed me around and even helped me barter with the locals for prices she considered decent. She herself got a seal from local Hex Guard branch along with commendation for catching the noble which she could trade for her reward when back in Canterlot. She said it was easier than carrying around a bunch of gold coins. We parted ways when she and her group took an exploration mission southwest along the seaside. Thankfully, we split on good terms. My wings are still useless even after being treated by a proper doctor, but I can at least keep them folded again instead of having them drag on the ground and gather dust. Rolled Scroll was itching all over after being repeatedly burned and electrocuted by her own reflected magic, and yet she still shook my hoof as we exchanged apologies. I didn't get to ask Des about her faint divine power, sadly, although I've been thoroughly instructed on ways to survive in the empty, corrupted landscape.
I bought everything Des and I considered important - saddlebags, updated map of caravan routes, compass, long-lasting supplies and some fresh fruit and vegetables for the next few days, sleeping bag that was expensive even with a rather large sum of money that was my promised cut, and some hygiene things. No reason to make it easier for Corrupted to detect you by smell. Sadly, there was nowhere to purchase the tainted berries Des' group used to placate or distract some Corrupted. As it turns out, transporting them over long distances costs a lot of money and requires magical items. When I asked about the price of Des' strange heater or the transport box, she said I would need to do some really lucrative and dangerous missions for several years before being able to afford those. Anyway, in the end I felt more like a packmule than a pony.
Next, I had to choose between taking a caravan, either as a guard or a passenger, or going on my own through the wilderness. The desire to find Crom as soon as possible overcame my self-preservation instinct and decided that one. The earliest caravan to leave for central Equestria was two days away, and these kinds of trade or transport companies usually travel slowly and take detours spanning out of the way settlements. So I went with the direct route.
Almost.
I realized that if Twilight is still alive, and so are Chrysalis, Luna, Cromach, Celestia, then Guiding Light and the dreamlings might be around as well. They have never really thrived in large cities, but perhaps my little mutant changeling daughter is still alive in her hive under Pine Hills. Going there will lengthen my travel by a good chunk, but it's definitely worthwhile to know if she's alive. Because if she is, then this new, unfamiliar world might not be as different with Crom and Guiding by my side.
I'm getting too optimistic for my own good, and optimistic is a synonym for droolingly dumb.
So, with the map firmly in my hooves (not now cause I'm writing this entry), I planned the route like this:
Starting in Vanhoover, I should follow ancient train tracks east through the Unicorn Range. The caravaneers I talked to said there were both tunnels leading through the mountains and a beaten path through some valleys I could use. After that I'll go east through the dangerous part of central Equestria where Cloudsdale used to be before fleeing north and anchoring above the Crystal Empire. The train tracks split northwest of Canterlot, on the border of Corrupted territories belonging to Queen Nightshade and King Chilly. It's supposed to be safe there. Next step leads south through Nightshade's territory and Ponyville, then east through the Everfree forest to Pine Hills. What I'm going to do next depends on what happens there, but if the town is either in ruins or completely gone, devoured by the forest, I'm heading northeast through the Foal Mountains, Hollow Shades, and further to Manehattan.
It's gonna be one hell of a trip.
[End Entry]
Going down the main road east through the ruins of Vanhoover, I breathe in the fresh air and mentally prepare for such a long journey. I am completely alone again, the core populated area being several hours of walking behind me. No caravans, no ponies, thankfully not even any Corrupted, although I could hear shuffling from time to time in alleys around. It's a beautiful spring morning, crisp but with warm wind ruffling my mane. With eyes closed, three-sixty vision of my tracing spell enabled, and focusing on getting used to it, I breathe in and out slowly to push away the nausea and headache. With every step, the all-around vision confuses me a tiny bit. Ponies are not meant to see everything around at once, our head isn't made for it, but all it takes is practice. I just need to get back into my groove.
A noise like a hoof slipping on a piece of rubble coming from an alley ahead breaks my concentration.
As aware as I am about me never being quiet enough to avoid being spotted by a Corrupted, I creep forward and poke just the tip of my horn out from behind a corner. Gotta admit, not needing to use eyes and shove half of my head into a possibly dangerous area is a good perk. A female Corrupted lying on a flat piece of concrete reflecting the soft sunlight is watching a young earthpony stallion carefully walking over to her, obviously trying to look non-threatening. As he gets closer, she raises her head and six tentacles sprout from her back, wobbling like grass in the wind. She is lean, with long limbs, and not much bigger than the approaching earthpony, so she must be the Hunter kind of Corrupted.
The stallion himself is just an earthpony to me. The tracing spell doesn't show anything other than a set of white lines on black background. No unusual size, no unusual features, just a young earthpony, probably a fresh stallion. The Huntress bares her teeth as he leans down to her and pokes her tentacle which wraps around his foreleg. As soon as he nuzzles her, three tentacle tongues dart out of her mouth and bury in his. He just wraps his legs around her and answers the kiss.
I know what this is. I've been told about it both by Des and by Vanhoover citizens I've talked to.
Desperate ponies sometimes walk into unprotected areas, unarmed and without supplies, to seek an extremely pleasurable end in the hooves of Corrupted. Contrary to popular belief, being killed by Corrupted is fairly rare if you don't fight back. Turning into one of them is akin to death, though. The earthpony has no backpack or anything, so this is likely the case. I am not here to question his decision, I don't know the circumstances that led him to completely disregard his self-preservation instinct, so I'll respect his choice. Heck, if I didn't feel the faint glimmer of hope that Crom is alive, I would probably be in the stallion's place myself.
In the minute or so of me considering the situation, the earthpony now growling and wildly mating with the Huntress grew in size, familiar tentacles sprouted from his back, and his neck thickened to accommodate the long prehensile tongues Corrupted possess. With a wet squelch, he pulls out of the happily mewling Huntress who sits up and looks with her refocusing eyes at me. The new male Hunter sprouts claws on his forelegs, jumps on the side of the building, pounces forward using a window hole to propel himself, and in less than a second he clears the entire alley and lands in front of me, baring his teeth. There is nothing left of the earthpony. The Huntress trots over quickly and with far less aggression, and circles around me.
I stand there, nerves twitching, but frozen in place. Desert Shade said never to run away from Hunters, they chase, hence the name. If they aren't hungry, you aren't invading their territory, or you don't offer a fun hunt, they are more likely to just let you go and return to casual mating.
Corrupted territories are a strange thing, and I didn't understand much from Des' explanation, but the soil itself somehow provides their owners with nutrients for regeneration and increased power. However, the really deeply tainted areas have a distinct look about them. The city ruins don't look transformed too much aside from the slightly mushy ground and black vines coiling around anything still standing, so I doubt either of the Hunters is any more powerful than a normal Hunter would be. No, that's no consolation but for some dumb reason I'm starting to look on the positive side of things, even if the side is completely pointless. I doubt I could fight off one in my current shape. Two are completely out of the question.
Stepping away as the Huntress pushes her muzzle under my tail and takes a deep breath, I try to show her I'm not interested in joining their fun. She tries again, so I sit down and push my forelegs against the male sniffing my ears. Familiar faint phoenix fire burns away darkness of my semi-blind world just like before at the place of the touch, and the Hunter steps backwards. Before the colours of the real world fade again into black, I see a light brown coat quickly being covered by black goo seeping into the 'wound' I caused. My touch can't be hurting them, because neither this one nor the Breeder mare last time turned hostile after, but in both cases it seemed to surprise them.
Finally realizing my complete lack of desire for their company, they trot off back to the warm rock where the Huntress was sleeping, curl together into one oily circle, and enjoy the sun again. I can't help smiling. If the earthpony was just lonely and lost in the big, unfriendly world, the new chapter of his life will at least leave him happy. With nothing threatening me anymore, I follow the main road marked by makeshift signposts out of Vanhoover.
It looks like I can burn away corruption then, at least to a very minor degree. If I ever regain a sizable portion of my pre-death power this might be a thing to consider. Maybe Harmony's desperate attempt to destroy me completely left some of his purifying power behind. It doesn't feel like it, though. I think it's something different, something new and old at the same time.
Oh well, no reason to dwell on it. I've been alive for less than a week, so who knows what might happen...
The caravan road joins the abandoned and barely visible train tracks on the outskirts of the city. The path used by caravaneers is side by side with the rusty steel rails, and with the city finally behind me after noon, I once again take my steps into the wilderness.
Several hours later, my tracing magic reveals a solitary unicorn quickly approaching from behind. He's not trying to be sneaky or anything, and as I walk at slow pace through what looks like a tunnel cut through a dark green forest I have no trouble tracking his movements. A bandit? A traveller? A courier? Anything is possible out here, on the road leading through the woods. He slows down when he comes closer, tilting his head curiously. To him, I must be just a unicorn wearing a light grey robe with tightly packed bags.
He looks like a warrior type, mid-length, slightly curly mane combed straight away from his face, broadly built, and carrying a sheath with a greatsword on his back along with two saddlebags as bulging as mine. An experienced and prepared traveller it seems.
"Blazing Light, in the name of the Silver Sun and grandmaster Cromach you shall be purged from this world!" I hear him proclaim in a self-assured, firm voice.
What?
The?
Fuck?
I wasn't hit by a hammer, but I may as well have been.
"Time for a system restart, buddy, he's pulling out his sword... and it's a huge one."
What?
I'm trembling just from the words.
"Alright, old Blaze would be having a breakdown right now. Show me you've grown at least a little, please."
But Des said Crom waited... that he waited for so long... for me...
It was some years ago, though. Something might have changed.
"There is literally NO WAY that he would want you dead, not without at least trying to talk to you. This guy is bullshitting you."
But he knows who I am. Five days after I was resurrected SOMEPONY KNOWS WHO I AM! Somepony who presents himself to be tied to the only living being who MIGHT KNOW ME!
"Granted, that's a little too much to be a coincidence, but still. It's Cromach. You know him the best."
KNEW him...
It would make sense, though.
"What? No, don't start with this again. I thought we were over it."
I always brought bad luck, unhappiness, conflict. I was a target, never in peace, fighting forever. I almost brought the end of the world.
"Nope, you stopped it, circumstances about insane family members being manipulated by an evil god aside."
Huh... you are right, somewhat.
"Good, so how about we beat the snot out of the unicorn and then start asking real questions? Fire included... for persuasion."
Yeah, Crom might want me dead, he might have a really good reason to. After all, he's been alive for so long he must have seen if the gods or any other entity tried something again. He would never, NEVER just send an assassin to do his job, and most of all he would want to explain to me why.
Unless he couldn't bear doing what he had to do himself - ending me for good.
"I liked the first part more, although both are possible. Let's go with presuming this guy is evil and Crom is somewhere out there warming up his butt for us, how about that?"
Ohhh yes.
The unicorn flourishes his oversized blade, and I feel an influx of magic flowing into his horn. I quickly let my saddlebags slide from my back.
"Some enchantment aimed at the weapon."
His spell fizzles, confusing the unicorn shaking his head greatly. I quickly but carefully close the distance as much as I can. I'm guessing he'll try his magic at most twice before realizing I'm stopping him from using it and just swinging at me. My telekinesis has never been good, and his horn is long, so I'll have a single chance at best to divert his blow. I have to get into melee range and pummel his face.
Damn, I forgot to buy combat horseshoes. Let's hope I'll get a chance to remedy that.
"He's trying the same spell again!"
He grunts and looks at me only four pony lengths away now and closing in fast.
"Attribute enhancement - speed aimed at his legs."
Oh boy, he's giving me all the answers himself. I steal the spell...
...and everything spins.
My muzzle hurts.
Vision spell gone.
Focus, focus, focus!
"AAAAAAAAAH!" I scream as liquid fire burns a line through my chest and stumble backwards.
Tracing spell is back up.
I must have underestimated the power of the stolen spell and rammed head-first into an armored pony at crazy speed. He recovered faster despite being on the ground, though, as the blood dripping from his levitating sword and the deep, heavily bleeding cut right where my neck meets my chest tell me.
"A bit more up and you were back in the ether for another two centuries."
Always the optimist, my head.
The floating sword arcs overhead into an executing blow as I barely stand up, still fighting agony shooting from my chest. He's not really burdened by being immobile because he's a unicorn and that's cheating. This is the one chance I'll get.
The greatsword slices straight down until I push it just a little to the side with my telekinesis. Dirt shoots everywhere as the wide blade buries itself deep into the ground. I pounce and land on the unicorn still lying on his back, unable to get up as fast as I did due to his platemail.
"Should have worn a helmet with the armor, dollface," I punch his head with all my might. It's less effective than I hoped. He must be really used to getting pummeled despite looking like a noble participating in some jousting tournament. He thrashes around, trying to throw me off or spear me with his horn.
Right, horn. Crap...
"From behind, lean left!"
The flying sword only scratches me as the unicorn is unable to swing it well with two hooves smashing his face into the ground over and over. Too bad most of the blood around is still only mine.
He will outlast me as I'm bleeding really badly due to all the movement. Adrenaline will wear off soon. I will die. Again. Without having a chance to see Crom.
A rock is nearby, just one fitting into a hoof.
I don't want to kill him, but I'm running out of options here.
Crack.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Stillness.
Head spinning, I stand up from the motionless unicorn...
...and kiss the ground.
Damn, legs are giving out.
At much slower pace, I pick myself up and check if the unicorn is still not a threat. Good, unconscious but not dead, definitely a broken muzzle and fractured skull. He won't be waking up any time soon.
"Check his bags. If he's used to travelling alone out here, he might have some things you missed."
Limping over to the body, I pull his two bags a bit away and then go through them.
Spare horseshoes, food, water, first aid kit-
"Use it, now!"
Not in the mood to argue with the little voice inside my head that knows the right thing to do, I put the unicorn's medical supplies to good use. With both cuts cleaned up and bandaged, I return to scavenging what I can. Spare bandages and desinfectant could be useful-
Screw it, supplies as well. I can carry all that even in this shape.
I take both of his saddlebags and rearrange what's inside evenly between the containers. The bastard is a day's worth of trip away from Vanhoover, he can get there without his baggage and I could use a second set of everything.
Spare horseshoes, cool, and they even fit. Hmm, they shouldn't, judging by the unicorn's size. I must be a little bigger than before I died, not much though.
"What is this?" I mumble, pulling out a small steel tube out of the last bag, "A scroll case?"
There is indeed a rolled piece of parchment inside. It bears the official Silver Sun seal I remember well. After all, I used it day after day for a year before I was killed.
Lord Heart,
I have recieved news about the possible resurrection of the cursed alicorn Blazing Light. The alicorn of Despair will bring death and destruction if left unchecked, and is absolutely vital that he is destroyed as soon as possible. Don't negotiate, have no mercy. This threat must be dealt with before it grows into something we cannot handle.
You are not the only one on this mission as we need to cover a lot of space quickly. Under no circumstances are you to prevent the operation of my other agents. In fact, team up if possible when you get a good lead to the alicorn's location.
I know an outstanding member of our organization such as you understands the severity of divine threats to this world, and as such you will fulfill this order quickly and without questions. However, a bounty of five hundred thousand bits will be split between all parties responsible for the cursed traitor's demise. The bounty is not for general public, so avoid involving new agents in this. I don't want needless loss of life.
When you are done, return to Manehattan.
- Cromach -
Under the order, a perfectly accurate description of me.
"It can still be fake..."
The seal is the real deal. Crom's signature... probably? I don't remember it that well but it looks familiar.
Crom... please...
Why?
Am I really that bad?
I know I've always said I was the worst thing that happened to you...
...but deep down I believed what you told me...
...that I was just being an idiot.
Still not entirely mentally all there, I pick all four saddlebags up, load them on my back, and keep walking east.
Crom wants me dead.
No, that can't be right. I refuse to believe it.
Crom NEEDS me dead, that's a big difference.
Or maybe he wants me gone forever so that his past doesn't catch up to him and he can live his life without the burden of me.
I'm not really sure how much time has passed with me just following the caravan route on autopilot, but the circle of sun hanging above my monochrome world is long gone. Light and darkness mean nothing to my tracing spell. I can barely walk anymore, though.
Hissing in pain, I drop my bags in a forest clearing a short distance off of the beaten path. No reason to risk getting robbed by a passer-by.
Damn, Desert Shade recommended one good sleeping bag. Soft, warm, zips almost all the way up. If only the cold bothering me was coming from the outside and not the inside.
Oh well, good night.
It doesn't matter in the end. Nothing has changed. I will find Crom, we will talk, and if he has a good reason to want me gone, then...
...then I will help him find a way that stops me from coming back ever again.