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Chapter One: Atypical Day3,575 words
Chapter Two: Cerchens3,541 words
Chapter Three: Miasma of Gloom2,487 words
Chapter Four: Pills, Dolls and Lightning6,342 words
Chapter Five: Never Mess With Doc4,082 words
Chapter Six: "This is Industry"3,757 words
Chapter Seven: Before the Tempest3,728 words
Chapter Eight: The Tempest, Part 15,194 words
Chapter Nine: The Tempest, Part 25,271 words
Chapter Ten: Post Tempest2,881 words

Chapter Three: Miasma of Gloom

Narcissus grimaced at the metal choker around his neck,even needing to suppressing a cough as the necklace bit into his throat. The sterile light in the ceiling gleamed off the golden-steel of the necklace. The light seemed to twist itself, almost as it becoming its own entity.

His heart pounded and his veins threatened to rupture under the titanic pressure of his blood. Left ventricle, right ventricle – every pump physically shaking his body side-to-side. His pupils dilated, only to be forced back into line by the incredible shine of the beam of energy before him.

Sweat drenching his body, the beads threatening to drip into his eyes, Narcissus eyed the second beam of ‘energy’: a stream of pure darkness that sucked up the light around it like a blackhole. The beam bore into the six Gems of Clarity, its shadowy tendrils seeping out, slithering through the air and into all six gems, draining them of their luster.

“M-moi never put much faiz i-in Up Above,” Narcissus stammered, blinking the sweat out of his eyes, unwilling to so much as inch away from his position for fear of disembowel–no, disensoulment. “But now-” he gulped “-now moi ‘opes someone’s zere.”

The right corner of Cau’s mouth curled into a smirk. “Grim as ever, my friend? Do you still pray to your old god?” Cau shook his head, his amused expression contrasting so heavily with Narcissus’ expression that one could easily mistake the two for being in entirely separate planes of existence.

Narcissus scoffed. “No, she ees dead to moi, as ees everything from dzose times. You should know, your origin ees not unlike mine.”

Everything stopped. The coiled of blackness released themselves from the Gems, dropping them onto the ground, their luster gone and replaced by a stony gray.

“What ‘ave you done wis dze Gems of Clarity, godiche‽” Narcissus shouted, the choker around his neck no longer strangling him. “’Ow could you transform such etalons of beauty and grace into.... into ZIS?”

Cau rolled his eyes. “Are pretty things all you care about?”

“Moi-”

“Calm down, Wielder of Penury,” Cau chuckled.

Narcissus bit his lip, and if he were anything but an herbivore, the pressure of his bite might have broken skin. “Why, oh Déesse, mon elder goddess from the old lands, why? Why are you so cruel to me?” he whinnied, melodramatically raising a hoof to the heavens. “Why, oh why, ‘as moi received such a cursed gift?” he crooned.

“Let me guess,” Cau nickered, “because you’re the epitome of penury?”

“You are so cruel and mean, godiche! Moi was never bitter! Moi is the epitome of generosity!”

“Yeah, right, and my mother was the illegitimate spawn of Princess Celestia and a farmer.”

Narcissus frowned, groaning, “Eh, godiche, moi ‘ave forgotten that there ees no point in complaining to you.” His expression deadened, his posture relaxing.

“And spoken with such elan,” Cau cooed. His expression deadpanned in kind. “You’re such a buzzkill, Narcissus. Why did you start this entire drama in the first place?”

“Moi was not acting! Dzis is ‘ow moi feels!” Narcissus replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Look, I don’t care. The fact is that the Element chose you, and now you’re its wielder.” Narcissus sighed. “And it’s fine with me because now we have one fewer moron to find.”

“Anyway, beau, let’s move on. Danger’s passed. Time for dze real show,” chirped Narcissus, his affect utterly changing. “What are we going to do now? ‘Ow do you wanna find ozer wielders?”

‘Narcissus, Narcissus. You never change. As random as ever’, Cau thought.

“Well how do you think I was gonna find them?”

“Moi ‘as no idea,” Narcissus replied, giving an innocent jostle of his shoulders.

“We are going to search at random,” Cau replied, giving Narcissus a sagely nod of his head as he adjusted his glasses. He picked up an object, a triangular thing with fives seals planted in regular intervals, and brought it from a dusty table to his face. “This is my newest invention,” Cauterium beamed. “This little baby is capable of reading ‘my’ Elements, determining whom they choose via a process of-” He shut himself up as he caught Narcissus’ expression.

“Uh, and dzat means what, exactly?” Narcissus inquired, pawing a hoof at the ground.

Cau sighed. “Well, to put it in your language: dzis seals shall glow stronger the closer potential wielder ees, n’est-il pas?”

“Ahh, moi understands now!” Narcissus exclaimed, and Cauterium facehoofed. “By dze way, you ‘ave used ‘n'est-il pas’ wrong.”

*****

The last of the apples rained down from the tree as Applejack stood beneath the canopy, panting, her legs burning from her work. She craned her neck around, her eyes basking in the menagerie of apples, the majority of which had almost all magically landed in her apple cart. A smirk crossed her face as she imagined the look on her brother’s face when he saw just how many apples she had bucked.

A bloom of sweat blossomed on the dirt below her as Applejack wiped the beads of midday sweat off her brow as she went about collecting the few stragglers who had avoided the vices of her cart. As she moved to attach the cart to herself, she heard a voice.

“Applejack!”

Applejack turned her head to an oncoming squad of three fillies as they galloped over a small hill to her. “What’s all the ruckus about?”

“AJ!” panted Applejack’s younger sister, Apple Bloom, one of three member of the notorious ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’. “Uncle Claude is coming to the Sweet Apple Acres!”

Applejack’s pupils shriveled into little beads. “D-did you say ‘Uncle Claude’?” She gulped. Lowering the volume of her voice to a conspiratorial murmur, she asked, “What in tarnation is he doing here?”

Scootaloo, another one of the infamous ‘CMC’ stepped forward.“Applejack! Is everything Apple Bloom said about that guy true? Does he really eat cute little rabbits for a dinner?”

AJ sighed. “You’ve been listening to Auntie Apple Juice’s stories again, haven’t you? Uncle Claude is a normal pony, he just-” She bit her tongue. “He just has some... uh, ‘personality issues’. That’s all.”

Sweetie Belle shot AJ an incredulous look. “If that’s true, then why did you have such a weird reaction, huh, AJ?”

Applejack blew a puff of air out of the corner of her mouth. “I was just a little… surprised, that’s all.” The three fillies looked between each other. “Anyway,” Applejack dismissed, careful to contain the vague hint of worry in her voice, “since a member of the Apple family’s here, we ought to give him a proper fancy greetin’!”

Apple Bloom frowned. “Sorry, girls,” she sighed to her three friends. “Seems like we’ll have to go try out water skiing later.”

*****

A fairly bulky stallion sat there, chewing a piece of straw-grass in between sips of his tangy apple cider. His sea-blue eyes lazily shifted about, going left to right as though there was nothing before him, during which time he ran a hoof through his short brown mane. Adjusting his green vest, itself the same color as his coat, he sighed.

The air around him was choked in a thick, invisible miasma. It strangled the senses and tore at the lungs, the swelter slowly drowning all but himself in its effects. Reflecting the thicket where the faces of the four ponies before him. Everypony sat in the penumbra of silence that marked the stranger’s own air.

Thoguh to Apple Bloom he was hardly more than a stranger, Aplejack knew him fairl well. He was Claude Gravenstein, and his name was as apt as anypony’s. The Gravenstein apple was renowned for its bitter taste and hard exterior – a grim reminder of the little jokes that destiny played, always cautioning you to name your foals wisely. Although where ‘Claude’ came from was anypony’s guess – Applejack had heard a rumour that his parents were crazy, which is where the name came from.

Applejack cleared her throat. “H-howdy, Uncle Claude! What brings ya here today?”

Claude regarded her with his eyes for what, to Applejack, felt like an eternity. It was not as if he hated her specifically, he was giving her that same look that he gave everpony – a look that, in Applejack’s opinion, was long stuck to his face.

He lapped up the last few drops of his cider, sighing at his sudden dearth of alcohol. “I’m going to Appleloosa,” he said. “On my way there, I came across yer untidy little town and decided ta pay a visit to my ‘relatives’.” Claude stuffed the empty bottle into a vest pocket, returning his critical gaze to each member of the local Apple clan.

“Look at yerselves,” he chided after short pause. “Where are yer manners, yer endurance? Yer shaking like maple leaves in an august breeze from just my gaze. And ya call yerselves workhorses? Pheh.”

Applejack, Granny Smith, Apple Bloom, and Big Mac all exchanged glances, neither willing to respond to Claude – if you don’t have anything nice say, don’t say anything at all. Claude sneered. “Guess ya can’t handle my pressure, weaklings?” He shook his head. “Then I got nothin’ to do with the lot o’ ya.”

He stood up, making his way to the door. As he was halfway outside, he turned his head around and lectured, “This society need discipline and respect. Equestria's heading into the abyss. If Celestia continues her policy of utter pacifism then we’s all gonna turn into a spineless sons-of-mules like yerselves.” His final gesture was to spit at the external wall as he left.

As soon as he was out of earshot, everpony gave a collective sigh.

“What a troublesome pony he is,” Granny Smith opined to nopony in particular. “Good things he leaves if you’re quiet, ah, Big Macintosh?”

“Eeyup,” replied Big Macintosh.

Applejack shook her head. Her uncle had always dismayed her. She had wanted to be his friend, but he was just so unwilling to accept friendship. In a way, he reminded her of Twilight Sparkle – if Twilight had been aggressively mean, nasty, and a self-absorbed holier-than-thou narcissist.

After a minute of curious silence, AJ turned to her big brother and said, “Hey, Big Mac; told ya I could do all that applebuckin’ by myself! Ya owe me five bits!”

*****

Claude Gravenstein grumbled incomprehensible curses as he cantered down a dusty, gravel road all by his lonesome. The very atmosphere around him seemed to tear itself apart as it tried to blow away from him. The birds, no matter the species, halted their songs as he came within earshot. Even the sun seemed to shy away from his as it darted behind the trees that dotted the countryside.

A feeling crawled along the back of his neck, a feeling he knew only too well; the sense of being watched. It was not the first time he had been watched from afar. Ponies who were often too cowardly to approach him often found themselves staring from afar. But this time was different.

Under normal circumstances, all those looky-loos and gawkers were just that. They seldom paid attention for long, and even more seldom paid attention to him after he had left their presence. But to be watching – no, following – him for a good ten minutes was downright unheard of.

And it was ticking him off.

He stopped himself, spinning around to face where he thought the prying eyes were, bellowing, “Show yerselves. End this charade. I know yer here!”

Somewhere from the foliage came the sound of laughter, eliciting a snort from Claude. Out of the bush walked two stallions: a nerdy-looking unicorn with glasses, and a green sissy – at least that was Claude's first impression. They casually, almost menacingly, approached him.

“See? I told you that he’d find us sooner or later,” chuckled the nerdy-type stallion. The sissy didn't reply, he just stood there with a wry smile on his effeminate lips.

Claude eyed the two strangers. “And just who in tarnation are y’all?” To his admitted chagrin, his usual miasma of gloom didn’t seem to bother the strangers in the least bit. To Claude, this meant they were no weaklings, their looks being deceptively deceiving.

The unicorn whipped out a strange, shimmering object. It had five seals of it, one of which was flashing with an almost epileptic fervor. “Greetings. You may call me… Domenus.... Domin... Domi..." He paused for a brief moment, mumbling under his breath. "Er, Aenigmat - yes! You can call me Aenigmat!” Claude rolled his eyes at the atrocious attempt at lying. “Say, friend,” he said in a tone that was almost seductive, “ever had the desire to, say, I dunno, change the country for the good of all of us?”

Claude continued to glare at the two stallions. “I don’t understand what yer talkin’ ‘bout, skinny freaks. Who are ya anyway? And that hay’s with greenie’s stank?”

‘Greenie’ winced. “’Ow dare you, bourru‽ Dzis is my best everyday perfume!”

‘Aenigmat’ chuckled.

“Perfume? What are ya? A filly?” Claude scoffed.

“Ze fact dzat moi is a stallion doesn’t mean dzat moi must stink like a bucket of manure!”

“Yer disgusting,” Claude spat.

“Calm down, Narcissus,” the nerdy-type stallion chided. “We’re not here to talk about just how girly Narcissus is or isn't.”

“And I know yer name ain’t ‘Aenginamterg’ or whatever,” Claude said.

“‘Ees name is Cauterium,” Narcissus offered, giving the named stallion an evil grin.

Cauterium closed his eyes as he took a long, hard breath. Opening his eyes, he turned back to Calude. “You wouldn’t just so happen to be displeased with the current affairs of Equestria, would you, Claude Gravenstein? Is that not the opinion you expressed so thoroughly back at Sweet Apple Acres?”

Claude gritted his teeth, stopping just short of grinding them. “So, what of it? What do ya want from me?”

Cauterium grinned. “We want nothing. But you on the other hoof, you could use something from us – and we offer our gift free of charge.”

“Ain’t no such thing as no free meal,” Claude replied, his tone seeping acid.

“But of course, Gravenstein. But you see that we just so happen to share the same set of ideals. My ‘price’ has been prepaid in full by your very nature-” he paused for effect “-Wielder of Gloom.”

Out of the clear blue sky came the frantic sound of flapping wings, followed by a strange pegasus with a blue mask storming through the treetops.

“Seems like we shall be having of the company this hour, beau,” Narcissus sighed, not even bothering to notice just how little sense his sentence had made, which he did entirely for ‘climatic’ effect.

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