Journeyman's Journal

by Journeyman

MLM: AtE Deleted Scene: Brimstone's Gambit

Author's Note:

I cut this scene from Chapter 14 of At the End for two reasons.

The first and lesser important was Daisy Showers. Daisy had, at the time, become a curse. Everything I tried to make her do, failed horribly. As you may recall, Sergeant Jetstream investigated some underground tunnels in Chapter nine and had four Senior Privates with him, one of which was Daisy. In my original draft, Brimstone makes an illusion of Daisy and kills her in the tunnels to frighten Jetstream, but I cut that scene. Later, I planned on having an intermission chapter that involved Daisy meeting Rarity and the possibility of her being possessed by Brimstone, but I needed to cut that one as well.

Now I had her possessed and written in, but I forgot one thing: Brimstone. If you hadn’t guessed, the more power Brimstone uses, the harder it is on its host body. In this scene, Brimstone uses enough power to render Daisy ill, ill enough that it draws the eyes of her superiors. I was ready to incorporate it into the story... but I couldn’t. The lingering thread of Equestria knowing about Brimstone, even partially, wasn’t something I wanted so soon. For one, Brimstone is more careful than that, and two, I didn’t want to overcomplicate things. There’s already so much going on at this particular point in time: Twilight and friends brainstorming for ideas, the attack on Canterlot, the arrival of Herobrine, the Crafter’s capture; I didn’t need the add headache of Brimstone. I already had enough to work with and didn’t want to drown my readers with unnecessary fluff.

The second was the reason to incorporate Brimstone had been rendered moot. While scripting the chapter, I wasn’t sure if I could make the Crafter’s willing surrender believable, so I wrote in Brimstone to nudge him in the right direction. I surprised myself without realizing it: The upcoming fight with Barricade and the following capture flowed well enough that the scene was no longer necessary. I wanted to include Brimstone; I like the character and its inherent creepiness, but Brimstone was no longer needed. I asked myself: “Does the scene need to be here?” No. I like it, but no. It was on that day I learned to listen to my gut, and I think I made the right choice.

So here we go. This scene takes place right after the Crafter leaves Lyra’s house. Brimstone interrupts him halfway, and tells him he needs to stop running from fate.

The creature screamed at the top of its lungs and pointed at me. The warmness at first contact and a brief reprieve from my running vanished like smoke. Replacing my sword with my axe, I swung it at the opposite wall and remove a cube of wall, revealing the moist dirt behind it. I heard Lierah call out and I turned for a moment, just a moment. The newcomer had it’s legs around Lierah and was fighting tooth and nail to drag her up the steps, babbling incoherently all the while. Lierah was conflicted, torn between the same desire of communication I had, and the likely need of conferencing with her associate.

I did not stay and watch the outcome of her dilemma; I returned to my digging and sealed the wall behind me.

I dug upwards and returned to the surface. It was a shallow basement, by my standards anyway, and I had no problem beating the newcomer to the surface. I started running back to my tunnel and heard, from the direction of Lierah’s house, the newcomer screeching in the street. I recalled my first experience with these creatures, the same one after I had attacked Lierah; if they made loud enough noises, others would come.

Oh, crap. I did not wish to face the soldier or the sovereign again. Not again. Not ever again. I barely survived the first time.

My memory, horrible as it was, was good enough to remember the path back to my underground tunnel. Turn at the cake house, run across the town square, past town hall, and back down the alley.

As I just said, my memory was pretty bad. It’s always been bad; I keep getting lost in caves and have to dig straight up just to get a point of reference. But I like to think my memory wasn’t bad enough to forget a solid wall of black nothingness in my path. My brain took a few moments to understand what I was seeing. It was just blackness. It was not like the Void Fog I saw in the bottom of the Overworld, it was just a complete lack of everything.

Perhaps I could find a way around the obstruction or void or whatever it was. I shifted to turn around.

“Don’t turn around.”

It felt like ice flooded my body. It was more than just having something sneak up behind me, not an easy task in itself, but I understood what it was saying perfectly.

I conjured my sword and prepared to turn.

“Don’t look at me! If you turn around, you will die.”

I froze. Dare I chance it? Would it be possible to get the jump on the creature behind me? The one I did not even notice until I was trapped?

Not this again. I felt like I was back in the cave, staring into the eyes of a terrifying beast all over again.

“Now... let me begin. Don’t look.”

My body was shaking. I don’t what it was about the creature’s voice that paralyzed my will to rebel, but it was most effective. It’s words were laced with command and authority, but there was a distinct shroud of menace and... an unclean belligerence surrounding it.

“What do you want, Crafter?”

I blinked. The shaking that had only just seeded my bones stopped due to the sheer mood reversal of the question. What was it talking about?

“Centuries you have lived in a world barren of any soul. Millenia. Eons. How old are you Crafter? Do you even know anymore?

“Millions of years of absolute power, and what did you do? Build monuments to your own vanity? Slaughter countless animals to suit your needs? Reshape the land in your own image? For what!?”

The creature spat the last sentence with enough venom to make me jump. I imperceptibly shifted to be ready to turn and either fight or run, but it was still noticeable to the beast.

“I’m warning you only once more, Crafter,” it growled. “My patience has already been tried by cowardice, I do not wish it to be tested by blind fear. You will live through this, as long as you listen to my words and follow this order:

“Don’t look.”

I didn’t know what else to do, so I nodded to the blackness.

“You are every bit the coward I think you are, but you have the capacity for a stout heart. That will be needed, in time, but now, I have much to say.

“Think on these words carefully Crafter. What do you want? You are as eternal as the sun and sand, but all you desire is all you have ever known: construction. You build and build and never stop building. Have you ever questioned why?”

Why would I even question? It’s all I have ever known.

“Ponder this, Crafter. You have something worth living for. Do you have something worth dying for?”

What?

“If I were to kill you at this moment, would you consider your life a bountiful one?”

Don’t kill me...

“You build, you live, you survive, and the cycle begins anew. Have you ever questioned the existential horror of it all? You build because you know how to build. You live because you can. Have you ever thought about what would happen if you were at the end? What would you do if you ever faced death in the eyes? Would you stand tall and firm as an equal, or run and hide like some gall-less fool?

“You exist to prolong your existence. At the end of your journey, when all has come to pass and all debts are settled, your spirit will still be imprisoned in the quagmire of time. An eternal path in the twilight is not isolation.

“It is oblivion.”

I... really didn’t know how to take the creature's words. I built because I am good at it. Did I really need a reason? No, but then why build in the first place if the act itself serves no purpose? I never thought about that. All along, I built... because that’s what I did.

“A journey only begins when it ends. All your accomplishments will be realized, but will they be worth it? What purpose is there to build without a purpose? You live by instinct. Live by purpose!”

I lowered my head in thought, but before I could contemplate its words any more, the creature behind me continued, “You hold a power greater than any other: the power of creation itself.” I felt something cold stroke my right arm. “You hold the right hand of God, the ability to reshape reality itself to your will. This is a power greater than individuals, greater than kings and the stars themselves. You must make a choice Crafter: become something greater, or sow the seeds of your own destruction. You have the power and the will to become something so much more. Not just a creator, but a legend.

“So run and hide, lonely miner. Dig to the planet’s core and cower amongst the dirt and the dark. Alone. Forever.

“Or...” I really did not like waiting for the creature to speak. Every second of anticipation weighed on my heart. I felt an undeniable sense of fear at this creature’s mere presence. Not of what it was doing, but what it could do. If this creature could blockade me so easily, why didn’t it just kill me? Why only talk?

“Or would you make the critical choice?The stage is set, and the game has begun. Make a choice, Crafter. Will you choose to greet the darkness and unknown as a friend, or run? Judgement is coming, and the angels are starting to sing.

“What do you really want, Crafter?”

The creature sighed. I thought for a moment and discovered a peculiar fact about myself: I was no longer afraid of the creature. It’s unique aura, as terrible and forbodding as it was... was somewhat comforting. This... thing, this monster or creature or whatever it may be, had a power far greater than I understand. It was a grand and complex type of sorcery, but the creature did not intend to hurt me. As foul as the creature felt, I felt safe and under its temporary protection.

“Now I must tell you, Crafter, that I was incorrect; there is another order you must follow.”

Oh no, oh no, oh no...

“Run. They are coming for you.”

I looked up once again. The path was clear and the entrance to my tunnel was in sight. I bolted, fleeing from both the unseen threats and their harbinger. While the creature had been talking, I had completely forgotten about what I was running from in the first place. This place is making me lose my touch.

The sound of wind blasted my ears as I entered the street. The wind had picked up and howled ever so fiercely. Rain pelted my shirt and I nearly lost my footing as I hydroplaned across a small puddle.

It happened again. For an instant, I felt a small pressure in the back of my head, and then a vision forced itself on me for a second time.

I was following something. No, I was chasing something, but I could not feel my limbings moving in the slightest. I couldn’t see; darkness was all around me, yet I was still moving. How was that possible?

Darkness. Movement. Fear. Not mine, something else’s. The Darkness...

...No... not darkness. Fog. Tiny, almost imperceptible, wisps off black fog. The Void Fog. Again? What was it doing here?

For a brief moment, the fog parted and I saw my quarry for the first time: the cream-colored creature with pink hair.

Comments

[Reader Review]

Clearly Brimstone has something of a trollish sense of humor.
What with having a terrifying heart to heart with the Crafter, while he is clearly trying to make tracks. XD