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Chapter 14,994 words
Chapter 23,411 words

Chapter 1

Arric stalked through the forest quietly. In one hand was his notched, and trusted iron dagger that he had received as a gift when he told his friend Krieg that he was being allowed into the mage's guild, in the other hand was the raw magical energy that warmly pulsed as he used the basic fire magic to light his path. The moon hung over head, no shadows or craters could be seen, it was nothing more than a white orb that looked like it was almost low enough in the sky to touch. However he had other problems, it was reported that in the Forests of Kiar-Daidan that monsters were making a two-hundred year reappearance. The warrior's guild set their best recruit, Krieg Heim. The Mage's guild their best apprentice, Arric. The Church sent a shifty and nervous acolyte in the white and blue trimmed cleric robes, Cyrus.

Krieg was walking in the front, his great sword was out and glinting in the moon light as he held the sharp blade with respect. “Did the mages give you any background information? Like are we fighting mundane monsters that usually pop-up in back alleys, or are we fighting something that we are going to be glad to have him around?” He said gesturing to the cleric who walked with his hand on the handle of the mace on his belt and the other wrapped around his holy symbol. “Because if that is the case, I just wanted you all to know that I am so relieved knowing we have an honest to goodness Cleric of the Holy-Justicar with us.” He said as he kicked a rock into a nearby tree causing the flock of formerly sleeping crows to squawk angrily and fly away.

“I was told we are fighting a threat that re-emerges once every two-hundred years and that it isn't a major thing, supposedly the best warrior, mage, and cleric of our orders fought the thing when they were our ages so long ago.” Cyrus said rubbing the already well worn spot on his symbol. “I-I mean I don't think the order would just send me out here with you two to just die.” He laughed nervously. “However they have tried worse.”

Arric just walked slowly through the under-brush. He was sandwiched between the mousy cleric, and the brash fighter because if he hadn't stood there they would have ripped each other apart several times over by now. Well, at least Krieg would have gutted the poor Cyrus. “Some sort of undead, that is why they sent you, a Holy-Justicar acolyte. I heard that it was vulnerable to fire, which is why they sent me, a red mage specialized in evocation, and I dunno why they would have sent you Krieg.” he said stepping over a fallen log, a small snake curled itself around the branch and examined the travelers as they passed, its forked tongue tasting the air.

The three made it into a clearing when the saw it. A jar, a plain brown clay jar sitting on a small marble podium. “Well, go ahead Cleric, I believe undead are your thing.” Krieg said. “Run up and mention mumbo-jumbo about your god and blast it with holy energy and let us get back home.” He paused watching as the Cleric moved slowly, his holy symbol glowing as he stepped closer and closer to the jar.

“Judge, Jury, Executioner, Undead are a blight upon this land and are judged, the sentence. Re-death!” Cyrus cried as the holy symbol exploded with bright pure white light. The shattering of a vase could be heard. A scream, a dark, twisted and hateful scream echoed around the empty meadow and died as the holy symbol dimmed and returned to being nothing more than a fancy necklace.

“Snazzy.” Arric said taking off a pair of goggles with smoked-lenses. “ I see now why people believe the Holy-Justicar is a savior.” He turned around as the cleric trudged by. Krieg just laughed and sheathed his great sword. Muttering expletives about how he was expecting a challenge.

As they all were leaving they heard it. A thunk and a cough, suddenly Cyrus knew he had problems to deal with. Krieg lay dead on the ground, a spear lodged through his chest. He looked back into the clearing and saw something he was afraid of, truly afraid of. In the clearing stood the thing that killed his friend. In the clearing stood an Arch-Lich and a small army of newly-risen skeletons. “Mortals dare destroy my phylactery. Soon you will join my army.” It rasped through the linen bandages wrapped around its head.

“Burning of the air around them. Let the element of life and destruction bend at my will. Conflagration.” Arric said solemnly as the small ball of fire in his hand grew larger and flew a few feet a head and created a pillar of fire around Krieg's fallen body. “I know he would rather have his body incinerated then allow himself to be a mindless pawn of an undead scourge.”

Cyrus turned around his face red with rage over the fact that this creature was a blight on all humanity and the fact it didn’t have the decency to fight fairly. “Light, dance at my open palm, I command you to spear my enemy. For they are a sinner and have broken the laws of life!” He roared as suddenly a javelin made of pure light was generated in his hand. He quickly tossed it at the lich, nailing it the face, rendering it incapable of speaking, and thus preventing it from spell-casting.

“Now, chain forth o’ brilliant energy, consecrate these poor souls!” He roared as the Javelin exploded in a bright flash of holy energy, the skeletons around the lich powdered immediately as the lich let out one last dying scream as it fell to the ground nothing but bones, rags, and musty bandages.

===

Cyrus pulled his virtual headset off, He felt numb and exhausted. He was alone in his apartment laying on his bed. He wasn't sure why the game was capable of riling him up so much, probably because it was actual people on both sides, the Arch-lich was another player, and both the mage and the fighter he was working with were real players as well. “I feel bad though, that dude, Krieg Heim was his IGN, I can't believe I was stupid enough to forget that it was a phylactery. I should have known it was, and I also should have known it was another attempt by the Order to get me killed.” He said throwing the virtual headset on the ground with a clatter as he sat up.

He got up off his bed and retrieved the abused technological device and set it down on his bed. He walked over to his window to look out at the gray cityscape that looked back at him. People below milled about doing their daily business, those that had jobs had something nice and those that didn't, well they were doing something to make it look like they had something to do. He sighed. “That game is a dick, Perma-death sucks balls.”

He quickly and quietly walked through his apartment, he could hear his socks rustling against the wooden floors with each step. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge, he popped it open with a hiss and sat down on the sofa in his living room. He turned on the three-vee and watched as it was the news. A blond reporter was seen standing on a boat, behind her was a small, iridescent soap-bubble like dome in the ocean.

“As you can see. The 'bubble' as some are referring to it, actually causes physical damage to people who try and get to close, first with burn-like injuries followed by coma, and then death. Unfortunately it seems that the North Amerizone scientist that thought the haz-mat suit would protect him was wrong.” She said before it cut back to news anchors back in the station.

“Now we could show you the graphic pictures but we aren't allowed to air that however if you have an ID number that identifies you as eighteen or older you can check out some killer shots on our holo-net page. Note we aren't responsible for what you see, and can’t be held liable if you attempt to sue us.” the Male anchor in the station said with a laugh before going on to talk about the weather.

He just shook his head, disgusted at the fact that the man referred to the death of an esteemed scientist so nicely, almost as if he were talking about how it was a beautiful day if you could get the smog-cloud that hung around the tops of the buildings to dissipate for more than a few seconds. Cyrus clicked the three-vee off. It was this sort of thing that made him upset at everything around him. People dying hungry and dehydrated, others doing horrible, terrible appalling things, while others could just sit in an apartment with not a care in the world.

===

weeks passed, the Holo-net was abuzz with news about the bubble and how it was growing, slowly, but still growing. Cyrus pulled his virtual headset off. “They finally did it. They had to send me against a wyrmling dragon, but they finally killed me.” He threw the earpieces connected by a visor against a wall and watched as it bounced harmlessly off the wall. “Fuckers, Bitches, and Cock-munches! I was just trying to be nice, I followed the tenets of the faith, I helped those that asked for it, and what did I get in return? I get roped into a group that thought it would be funny to send a level twenty cleric, with out any sort of back up against a level forty seven dragon!”

He jumped up off his bed he pulled on his sneakers, grabbed his wallet and trudged out into the city that he had spent so much time over the past few months staring at. He walked slowly around his apartment, he lived in a good neighborhood but that didn't mean that the police didn't report muggers and pickpockets on occasion. He just kept his head low, he didn't make eye contact with any other passer-byers and he quickly made his way to the cafe on the corner of his block.

He pushed the door open and walked in. A distinctly female voice from the kitchen spoke up over the general crowd. “Welcome to the Top-hat and Monocle.” the voice said as he sat himself down. The young woman walked out from the kitchen, she was wearing a black apron over her white dress. “I am Sandra, I will be your barista, is there anything that you are specifically wanting?” she asked with a big plastered on grin.

He didn't know her at all even though she lived in the same apartment building and was only three apartments down from his on the hallway, she left early in the morning and could easily pick up the sounds of him gaming through the thin doors. She had overheard a lot about 'the bastards' that had tried to kill him on a supposedly daily basis.

Cyrus pulled out a five bill from his wallet and smiled up at her. “I want a clean water, and maybe a small sandwich.” He said looking the dark haired girl over. 'will five still cover the cost of both a sandwich and water?' he thought idly as he waited. He began to fall back on a terrible habit he had, between tapping his fingers he found himself listening in on the conversations around him. Even though the cafe was small it was loud and quite easy to listen in on multiple different conversations.

“Y'know, we've been dating for almost three months now. Don't you think it is time to get a little more....serious?”

“I can't believe that bitch Becca at the office, I heard she slept with the corporate branch's son for her promotion.”

“My Sister-in-law was stabbed yesterday on the Maglev over in New York. She will live, but the doctors are afraid that the man might have used a dirty knife.”

“Sir your sandwich.”

“I think I might just kill him. He stole her right out from under me. She found herself 'so in love with his beautiful eyes' how about the bastard take a shotgun blast to those beauties.”

“Supposedly they have two princesses that rule over everything, like moving the sun and moon and stuff...”

“AHEM, Sir your sandwich!” Sandra said loudly to get his attention. She dropped the plastic wrapped plate on the table with a clatter and handed the man a scotch glass of clean water, no ice. “I will need another two bills. The water wasn't cheap.” She said tapping her foot. “Quickly please, I am to go on break in about two minutes and I have some stuff on the holo-net that I need to look up.” she said.

Cyrus sighed and set two more bills down onto the table. “Thank you.” he mumbled. He unwrapped the sandwich and picked it up off the plate. He knew that everything except the meat was synthesized. The earth no longer supported the means to grow the delicious lettuce and tomatoes nestled between the synthesized bread slices

He found himself picking the slice of salami out of the sandwich and found himself drooling. Even synthesized he loved the flavor of lettuce and tomatoes. He had asked time and time again to see if they could just make him a synthesized veggie sandwich but they just responded that it was all cookie cutter production and that they didn't do special orders.

He finished his meal, and was thoroughly unamused at what he was overhearing in the small cafe, and quickly set off for home. It was getting dark out, but he didn't care. He had no more money on him and at worst the criminals would just kill him. It might be a blessing if they did. He continued to walk slowly, before he heard it.

A psst from a nearby alley. He lifted his head only to realize he made eye contact with the man standing in a leather long coat his hands tucked under his crossed arms. “Hey...Kid...” He said out loud glancing back and forth, as if he was expecting to be tackled by a police officer at any moment.

“M-Me?” Cyrus squeaked as the man stepped out from the shadows. It wasn't uncommon for drug-dealers to worm their way deeper into the city but this man was far more fidgety and far more...on edge than they usually would be. The man walked slowly sort of twisting, the sound of clinking glass vials could be heard. 'Liquid steroids?' he thought to himself as he watched the man move like some sort of predator on the move. ‘He seems too edgy for it to be steroids, some sort of stimulant maybe?’

“I-I uh, Got some stuff. Good stuff. Not stuff I usually sell, because well...drugs aren't going as well as they used to...” he said one hand nervously going up and looking like he was trying to flatten an errant strand of hair only to have the hand jitter back and forth messing up his hair even worse. “So uh, Instead, I got something else. Somethin' hot.” He said opening his jacket revealing his bare upper torso, large almost-hand sized blisters had formed on his sides and across his chest. “Hehe, yeah, uh. Want one? I say no charge, cause this shit is starting to do some damage, fuckin' up my vision and shit, I swear I am starting to see stuff.”

“N-no thank yo-” Cyrus started only to get interrupted.

“C'mon bro, It's free, and well shit if you don't mind a few blisters you see some cool shit.” he said glancing around handing him a small vial containing maybe four ounces of red glowing liquid. “I heard it does some wicked shit if you drink it too, but fuck man, it burns through the glass vials, I ain't brave enough to drink that shit.” the man suddenly started laughing. “Oh man, I-I gotta go. I hear singing man. Voices, in my mind saying shit that I don't understand.” The man suddenly turned around and dashed down the alley way tripping over himself as he went.

The man quickly turned the corner and was gone. The entire time singing along to a song that seemed so familiar and yet so foreign to him. Cyrus just stared at he vial in his hands. It seemed to hum, and almost throb. The vial also gave off a faint glow, the same color as a freshly synthesized cherry onto of an ice cream sundae. The longer he held it the warmer it seemed to grow.

===

Cyrus had shoved the vial in his pocket and as he had walked it felt like it was slowly heating up in his pocket like if you left a nine-volt battery at just the right angle to sit against a nickel. By the time he got into his apartment he pulled the vial out and set it down on his coffee table in his living room. “FU-” He screamed as he looked at the silver dollar pancake sized blister that had developed on his thigh.

He cautiously walked around the coffee table, almost as if he were expecting the vial to suddenly leap up and try to attack him. He sat down on his couch and just stared at it. It was a plain cylindrical glass vial with a plastic and wax twist cap. The liquid inside seemed like it was carbonated as it seethed and bubbled. “Crazy drug-dealer hands you a glass vial, and runs off obviously high or something, and you don't throw away the shit he gave you? Jesus, I must be crazy.” he said out loud

He covered his face with his hands. “I am talking to myself. That is it. I've lost it.” He quickly stood up and left the vial sitting on his coffee table. He turned around only to find himself staring at the vial again. “He did mention that it was messing with his vision. Obviously it is a hallucinogenic, but at the same time he also said it wasn't a drug.” Cyrus found himself sitting back down. He bridged his fingers and sat with his elbows resting on his knees, holding his hands in front of his mouth.

He mentally battled back and forth between throwing it out, or jumping the gun and downing it. He sat there, on the couch, for who knows how long. Several times he reached his hand out only to have it snap back to rest on his knee. No matter how many times he repeated this action he couldn't move away, he just sat staring, nagging curiosity versus his common sense, and it seemed that his mind was at a stalemate. He wasn't the most adventurous, hell he didn't even enjoy using medication when it was prescribed by his doctor, why now was it that this vial of more then likely illegal substance weighing so heavily on his mind?

“I have an idea, I do some research on the holo-net, if I fail to find anything about it, then I follow my curiosity and well. Down it. However if I learn that it is some sort of super-addictive, and deadly drug, then I dump it down the sink.” He said getting up to walk and grab his virtual headset only realize that he stopped and his hand grabbed the vial, the warmth instead of burning was comforting this time. Like holding your hand to a gentle camp-fire. “This shit is going to kill me isn't it?”

===

Cyrus threw his hands up in the air, and quickly ripped the headset off. The vial laid down on the pillow nearby. “Jack-shite.” he said looking at the liquid. “two hours of searching and I don't find a single mention of a 'red glowing liquid'. I even checked on several less than savory image boards only to get responses back like 'lololol, from a shady drug-dealer? Drink it.' I scoured page after page on addictive substances outlawed by the governments around the world, I even checked up on drugs that don't exist anymore.”

Cyrus just stopped, his hand was wrapped around the glass vial. “No. I don't think I will drink it. Not tonight.” He felt his hand moving again, setting it back down only to nervously pick it back up. “I found nothing on the Holo-net about it. Surely it can't be that bad can it?” he asked himself rhetorically.

“I mean an obviously crazy drug-dealer practically throws it at me after showing me his burns and runs off singing. Then by the time I get it back home I also had a nice blister going on...This shit is totally legit and certainly not harmful.” his other hand was moving this time, it quickly twisted the lid off the vial, the scent of artificial cherry filled the air.

“Screw it. If I die, then I'll go in peace knowing that I died from doing something so stupid as drinking a liquid handed to me by some stranger.” He said drinking the liquid like a shot. “Tastes exactly how I expected it to...like synthesized cherry flavor.” He said, he sat and waited. Drumming his fingers on his knees expecting to suddenly start tasting sounds and smelling colors, yet he sat there and nothing. Sort of to his disappointment he stripped down and began to crawl in bed when he suddenly passed out.

===

He stood, naked, in total darkness. The only thing he was able to see was his nude body standing in total blackness. He took a few steps forward only to feel a burning pain as dark clawed hands reached up and began to tear at his ankles. He tried to to run only to fall flat on his face. He watched as the dark hands began to tear and crawl their way up his legs. They continued at a steady pace, he tried to scream only to have his voice fall silent in the oppressive darkness. He watched as his own florescent blood pooled around him, it seemed to glow in the darkness. He could feel the claws sharpening themselves on his leg bones.

Some clawed further up, others just stayed and clawed at his bones that they exposed through ripping, and tearing at his flesh. After a while the ones that had been so preoccupied with scratching his bones began playing with the broken remnants reshaping them into a shape they desired.

He stretched out an arm to try and crawl away only to watch as more of the dark hands wrapped their way around the outstretched arm and pull it down onto what ever surface he was lying on. He felt a single hand grasp his face, it engulfed his eyes before long he could feel them, the hands, everywhere clawing, scratching, shaping.

Before long Cyrus found himself staring down at a dark writhing mass of pale skin covered by stretches of black hands. Although he didn’t personally move, He found himself floating. He stared down at what was his body in horror as the black mass of hands were working at frenzied pace ripping, tearing and rearranging.

He was nothing more than a glowing white blob, sitting on something lumpy and warm after a few moments of travel. Off in the distance he could see a large mass of whirling colours moving gracefully through the air. He heard laughter and voices speaking in a language he couldn't understand. He noticed two of the colour-blobs moving away from the group and envelope him in something. 'Are they trying to smother me with feather-dusters?' he thought to himself as they flew away.

Before long he was on the ground, as far as he could see he was moving in a crowd of colour-blobs, these ones weren't flying instead they were running on thunderous hooves. He could make out the vague shapes. They were obviously horse-shaped. He could make out the sun hanging in the sky above him, no smog and no buildings obstructing his view of the azure sky. He felt peace and was truly happy. He found himself laughing, and enjoying the warmth but before long he felt himself moving again.

When he stopped whirling he was in a secluded forest, the moon hung in the sky and several more of the horse-figures moved about, horns on their head glowing as rocks, logs, and even some of the stars seemed to move at their will. They spoke again in the language that he had no understanding of yet he knew something. He felt belonging for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was home. Even though he knew this odd forest, surrounded by these odd creatures that he wasn't home.

Upon noticing him the creatures stopped, their horns no longer glowing and the objects dropping to the ground. One stepped forward, and pressed it's horn to what Cyrus assumed was his forehead and his vision suddenly cleared completely. He found himself looking into a familiar yet foreign face of concern. The unicorn spoke softly barely above a whisper in the language of the creatures. Cyrus just shook his head sadly, feeling a new foreign sensation of things moving in ways they shouldn't have. However before he could find out the cause he moved one last time.

Before long Cyrus found himself in what looked like a ballroom dominated by a single throne, the walls had evenly spaced stained glass windows depicting the sun, moon and stars. A mythical creature sat on the only throne in the room. Her white wings were outstretched as she stared down at Cyrus who just sat in stunned silence.

He was happy that he could see now, however he was also sort of disoriented by what he was seeing now. A blend of pegasus and unicorn, a unipegicorn, or a pegicornicus! Cyrus tried to cover his face with his hands only to have two circular appendages hit him in the face. ‘I am possibly dying and I am busying contemplating what exactly to refer to the creature that is currently presiding over my soul?’

He stopped only to realize that he was being watched by the pegicornicus. ‘at least I think it is a pegicornicus.’ he thought to himself only to watch her smile. ‘smiling....how is...it’s a horse-thing how can it be smiling?’ he continued to think only to watch as she began laughing. ‘Now it seems to be laughing at me. I have an obviously mythical creature laughing at me.’ He watched as the creature just laughed harder.

“Oh my, I don’t mean to be rude, but I am Princess Celestia, and you my newly converted guest are sitting in my throne room, or at least in spirit.” She said, her voice melodic and soothing, with a strong dose benevolence. “You are? Don’t try and speak, just think your name and I will hear it.”

Cyrus just stood rooted in place. He found himself unable to coherently think for a short period. ‘I-I am Cyrus. I am not entirely sure what just happened but, uh. Hello.’ he finally found himself thinking after shaking off the fact that she had addressed him, ‘After reading my thoughts.’ he found himself thinking again only to watch her face look sort of confused.

“Oh my, how disconcerting, you aren’t sure how you got here?” She asked raising her hoof to her mouth as if she were trying to cover her shocked expression. “Please tell me that they gave you the serum after explaining everything and you just happened to forget after the magnificent trip you had figuring out where you fit in as a pony.”

‘I uh I um. What?’ was Cyrus’s only well thought out comment. ‘Serum? I-I was handed the...red stuff, by a crazy man who was high or something, and...what?’ Was his follow up comment.

“Well, this isn’t good.” Was all the Princess said before Cyrus felt himself moving again. “When you wake up, don’t be alarmed, and don’t be afraid. My sister will be there shortly to guide you.” She said a look of caring and concern was easily seen on her long face. “Do be careful, I know for a fact the majority of the populace isn’t very receptive of my people right now. I would suggest making yourself scarce until she arrives.”

===

Cyrus crawled out of bed, he opened a single eye to look around his apartment. His head throbbing with even the slightest of movement. He immediately noticed something was off, way off. For starters, he noticed that his pillow was hanging above his vision, not levitated, but stuck there. Two he was a good three feet shorter than he should be, and three, he wasn’t human.

Cyrus looked down at himself. He noticed immediately that he was standing on four legs. what used to be his arms were now hoofed appendages. He was covered in a coat of what his mind instantly referred to as cream coloured. “I-I don’t under-” He started only to stop when he heard the sound of his own voice. “What the buck!?” He said only to stop. He felt his hooves move to the sides of his head as he dropped to his apartment’s floor. ‘I can’t...I can’t even say....that word.’

He opened an eye and looked at the pillow still flopping around in front of his face. “Horse feathers.”

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