Chapter 28 - A Dark Reflection
Something crunched under him as he stirred. The world begrudgingly came back into focus around him, with every movement felt heavy and sluggish. He was, unfortunately, all too familiar to waking up to pain these days. He knew he shouldn't dick around however – he was in a fight with a servant of the Mistress no less. Thanks to his little issue with sleeping, he had no idea how long he had been out. Time was of the essence. He wanted to push himself up to get back in the fight, but found himself struggling to just roll over on the dry ground…
Hang on a minute.
He grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He looked down. All he could see was the mist, but as it cleared, little by little, he could make out his feet and the dried leaves, twigs and broken acorn shells littering the ground underneath him. Speaking of the ground, he felt off balance, like he was on the side of a hill. "Whirlwind, where are we?" he called out hopefully. No answer. He turned about. He couldn't hear anything apart from the rustling of leaves and saw nothing but the same white mist. A dark shape nearby and a groan enlightened him to the fact that he, at least, was not entirely alone. He carefully picked his way through the mist towards where the sound came from and found the bundle of pony that was the false Crimson curled up amongst the leaves against a rotten log, shivering, her torn saddlebag nearby. This only raised more questions. Where the hell were they? Where were the others? Why was everything so quiet?
He waited, perhaps for half an hour, for the mist to clear. Eventually, the looming darkness of trees appeared around him. He craned his neck to look up at them but found he could not back away far enough to see their peak. They were impossibly tall. He was briefly reminded of the redwoods of California he had heard about and seen in pictures, such was their immensity. However, their trunks were nowhere near as thick, and they bent and contorted in the manner of smaller, wilder trees. Despite the all-encompassing canopy far above, the forest floor was not all that dark and brimmed with life. At least there was plenty of floral life – he still didn't hear anything. No bird song, no rustling pitter-patter of small animals, nothing. Just the movement of leaves.
‘Crimson’ stirred, and Handy snapped back to attention. Carefully, and ignoring the aches he felt, he crouched down, pulling his dagger from the accoutrements at his belt. Mister Thunder did a number on him apparently, vampirism or no. He sat down next to a tree and placed her up against it, a hand pinning her gently to the tree, the other ready with the sharp implement. Time to get some answers. The pony stirred, blinking her eyes awake. The pendant was flashing frantically at her chest. Handy suppressed a smile. 'Looks like a certain someone is freaking out.'
The pony awoke with a whimper as she looked about with tired, bloodshot eyes, which widened when they saw Handy staring pitilessly back at them with his blank face of a helmet. She struggled, and he shoved, pressing against her and holding her against the tree as he brought his dagger up to her throat. "Where is Crimson!?" he demanded. The pony blinked before pulling a faltering smile.
"W-What do you mean sir? I'm ri—" She cut off quickly as the dagger pressed ever so slightly against her throat. "...She's safe," the imposter said. The pendant flashed a few times. "... You should be thanking me." Handy just snarled at her in response. The pony's ears flicked, but otherwise she didn't flinch. "What gave me away?" she asked at last, and it was Handy's turn to smile.
"Your blood smells wrong," he said. That certainly made her flinch. The pony was consumed by green fire, and Handy let his hand go of her with a yelp. Even though the flames licked his unarmoured left hand, it didn't burn. Curious. The changeling sat on its haunches before him, its eyes obscured by the same blue covers he had seen all those months ago on the faces of the Queen's soldiers. The changeling seemed amused by the human's reaction, and the pendant flashed rapidly in a manner Handy associated with the Queen herself laughing. It flexed its insectoid wings, and Handy quickly shoved the creature back against the tree bark, the dagger once again at its neck. It didn't really resist. "What do you want with her, changeling?" he asked. It didn't respond, and Handy just grew angrier. "Speak up, or I'll be eating changeling tonight." 'Well I won't, really, but your blood on the other hand...'
"We had to get close to you," the changeling said, almost too quickly, its ear flicking. "Without alerting the griffons," it continued after the pendant flashed. It only seemed to speak after it flashed as if... as if the Queen herself was telling it what to say. Not only that, although it was hard to tell with the buzzing echo behind the creature's voice, the changeling sounded infuriatingly familiar.
"Why?"
A flash. "Because it was necessary."
"Stop playing games with me, you fucking excuse for a faerie!" Handy snarled. For all their resemblances to bug ponies, his first impression of the changelings was unlikely to change. "Tell me the truth. And... where do I know you from?" he asked. Its ear flicked twice this time, its expression still stoic and unchanging. There were a few flashes from the pendant, and the changeling let out a short sigh. With a shifting noise, the eye covers retracted into barely perceptible slips in its skin, revealing its eyes.
Its chartreuse eyes.
Handy froze.
No way. There was no way Chrysalis would send the one changeling he'd be only too happy to tear a new, structurally superfluous asshole to tail him. And she'd been there this whole time? Handy shook with fury, but the changeling held his gaze. "Thorax," he almost spat out. "Scratch that, I will have changeling tonight." Thorax’s gaze faltered but then held firm.
"You wouldn't do that...," she said, the pendant now flashing slowly. "You wouldn't risk it."
"And how would you be able to know that?"
"I don't," Thorax said, now looking distinctly uncomfortable, her eyes looking downward as the pendant flashed more rapidly. "But my Queen does. She wants to speak to you."
"I don't exactly see her around..."
"No... she wants..." Thorax shifted uncomfortably, groaning and clenching her teeth. Her eyes screwed shut as she shuddered. "To speak to you...to speak..." Her eyes opened with a flash, and there was a dull, bluish glow from the whites of her eyes. Her irises were no longer chartreuse; they were instead a deep, dark green surrounded by a ring of lighter, yellowish green with thin black slits for pupils. "Now..." rumbled out the distinct, two-toned voice of the changeling Queen from Thorax's mouth. The changeling grinned, looking back at the human with a determined expression. "It really has been too long, Heartless."
The hairs on the back of Handy's neck stood on end as his skin crawled. How in the hell did she do that? Was it the pendant? Could she have done that to him at any time? "Chrysalis...," Handy said lowly. The queen herself was right here at his fingertips once more. In a manner of speaking.
"Oh? None of your excessive formalities? Really now, I'm wounded."
"What are you talking about? What do you want?"
"A lot of things, little human...," she said, a teasing tone in her voice which only served to annoy Handy further. Oddly enough, he found himself looking away from her eyes more often than not, thankful for the anonimity afforded by his helmet as uncomfortable memories surfaced of what he had almost done to her. But that was then, this was now, and he forced himself to meet her gaze. "And I was ever so hopeful I could've done all I wanted to do without you being any the wiser until I returned your precious little mage to you."
Handy almost rose to that bait. He could have demanded to know where she had placed Crimson, but showing weakness in front of the Queen of the changelings struck him as a terrible idea. "Alas...," Chrysalis continued, frowning slightly as she studied him. "Things did not turn out as desired, and here we are." She looked around. "Wherever we are. What was it you're, ah, little deer friend called it? The Greenwoods? Hmm, I guess as much judging by these trees, never managed to get any changelings into this place. I wonder if the legends are true..."
"I am growing tired of this," Handy said truthfully with an exasperated noise. He pushed down harder on Thorax's body and pressed his dagger just a bit more against her throat. Chrysalis turned her head around to face him once more. "Yo—"
"I have her. You know, the unicorn," Chrysalis said, almost bored, her eyes half lidded, her raised eyebrows, and slanted frown indicating she really couldn't care less for the human's anger right now. She simply wasn't intimidated. "The one you swore to protect," she smiled, "after that simply delightful touch of manipulation you pulled in that inn. Really, I had chills watching that."
"I don't particularly care."
"Oh I think you do, Heartless," she crooned, leaning forward, forcing Handy to withdraw his dagger bit by bit so as to not cut her inadvertently. "I've watched you for a long time, remember? Seen things through your eyes, heard what you heard, and enjoyed every moment of it. And oh, how you made Celestia's brat squirm, using your fascinating story of your homeland to lull her into a false sense of security. Simply delicious. Every lie, every half-truth, the way you looked at the corpse of prince, oh what’s his name? Ah right, Geoffrey. The bird you murdered." Handy flinched. "You weren't wearing the pendant that night, but it was easy to put two and two together. I still heard everything while the pendant sat in your room. It really didn't take me long."
"What of it?" Handy said, not liking where she was going with this.
"I just found it amusing how you insist on King Johan trusting you, even though you didn't have the heart to tell him who really killed his brother that night."
"He probably already worked it out," Handy said defensively. "He's smart enough to. Geoffrey's days were numbered anyway."
"Then surely you must share everything with him, hmm? Like how you knew I could see everything through this pendant."
"What are you getting at!?" Handy said, pushing her back against the tree with both hands. Chrysalis winced with the impact. That was interesting. She could feel what Thorax felt while she was in control of her?
"Temper, temper, human." Chrysalis was still smiling, grinning even. "What I am saying is that we have a lot more in common than you'd like to think."
"I have nothing in common with you, fae."
"Really now? I was there when you transformed. I was there when you fed. I saw the way you looked at ponies ever since, as much as you may want to deny it and stick to your little casks of animal blood. You need to take from others to survive, just like us. You lie, you cheat, you steal, you use others, perhaps not as much as changelings must do, but enough that we can see a kindred spirit." She paused. "But not entirely. You see, I did notice something else about you."
"And what, pray tell, would that be?" Handy asked, angry yet unnerved by the changeling's analysis of him. He placed the blade against her throat once more.
"You keep your promises," she said smugly, "even when they are inherently disadvantageous to you. Even when it would be easier to slip away and ignore it, or did I imagine your whole consenting to be King Johan's indentured servant because of a broken promise?"
"That was something entirely different. I had other reasons to go through with that."
"Ah yes, you swore to your God. How very religious of you. Then tell me, Heartless." She leaned up again, and again Handy was forced to avoid cutting her throat prematurely. "Would you then willingly go back on your promise to wittle Crimson," she asked, placing a holed hoof on the human's fist which held the blade, "by killing my little soldier and thus forcing me to harm her?"
There was a long pause and a conflicted expression on the human's face. Eventually, however, he pulled his knife away, Thorax's hoof following his hand until it was out of reach. She smiled triumphantly. "Good boy~" she cooed.
"You could not have known I'd do that," Handy tried to say in his defence.
"Oh, but I did. I did ever since you had that delightful discussion with Crimson about how to send you home. Simply fascinating, I must admit. You found out she had the means to send you to your little, rainy, island home, alllll the way on the far side of the world through this veil nonsense, but you didn't let her because it would harm her. How sweet of you, Heartless~"
Handy's mind raced, recalling everything he had discussed about how he got here with Crimson. He knew he was from another world. Crimson definitely knew, but he didn't recall either of them explicitly stating that while wearing the pendant. 'She doesn't know yet. She still thinks I'm from this world... or she's pretending to for some reason.' That could be useful to him, even though he didn't know how to use that right now. "What do you want with her?"
"Her?" she asked, eyes wide in mock innocence, "Why, nothing~" Handy rephrased his question.
"What do you want with me?"
"There you go..." she said before looking to the side, idly studying their surroundings. "A little bird told us something we need was in the possession of... certain ponies, ponies who were also very interested in a certain human and that they might rear their heads at the festival. We needed a way in, if only to just identify who these ponies were and then track them down ourselves, and a way to stick close to you," she placed a hoof on his chest which he batted it away in irritation. She merely chuckled, "to ensure we found them. Imagine our surprise that it was this same 'Mistress' your little Crimson friend feared, and it was her they sought and that crown you took off of Fancy Pants they were after. All very interesting. I believe I'll have a few lings pay mister Fancy Pants a visit sometime soon. You really know how to end up right at the centre of a web, don't you Heartless? And I intend to exploit it."
"So that’s why you took Crimson?"
"Yes. As interesting as it would be to hold onto her and learn her magicks, I fully intended to leave her back in your care when I was done," she said. Handy just looked at her with an unamused expression, and she blinked. "Honest. I had no intention of ever having to meet you in person again, but circumstances being what they are, I think I'll hold onto her for a while. Collateral, you understand."
"You know I'll just come find her."
"Oh yes, which is why I'm going to make a deal with you."
"No deal. You release her now, or I kill this little changeling in front of me that you happen to be puppeteering."
"Oh, but then I'll have to respond in kind," Chrysalis said with a pout. "Wouldn't that just be terrible."
"You'd sacrifice your soldier this willingly?"
"Heartless, she volunteered. She knew the risks," she said. "Now, here's what I offer you: I will release your pony, unharmed, if you agree to find me what I seek from those you were going to hunt down anyway. Hmhmhm, I'll even pay you. I know how much you like our gold, and we do ever have so much of it which we aren't using."
"Why would I ever agree to that?" Handy asked. "I can't trust you to hold up your end of the bargain."
"Not even on my word as Queen?" she asked, looking at him sideways. Handy's helmet betrayed nothing. She smiled, rolling her eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, what to do, what to do. It would seem we cannot come to trust one another as we have no means of assuring the other will keep their word." Here it comes, the typical 'what choice do you have' shtick where the party who thought they had the advantage tried to strong-arm the other into doing what they wanted. Handy had a retort for that, and he was ready and willing to— "I suppose I have no choice but to place myself under a geas now, don't I?" she asked.
That took Handy off-guard. "A... A what?"
"A geas," Chrysalis said smilingly, "A kind of magi—"
"I know what a geas is," Handy said, wanting to pinch the bridge of his nose. The fae comparison was becoming more and more apt the more and more he learned about these changelings. In Ireland, it was just a part of the numerous tales and mythos of the 'Good People'. Here in this world? It almost certainly was a very real thing. "Why would I agree to verbal slavery?"
"Why, Handy, that’s only if you break your promise," Chrysalis said. "And it applies to me as much as to you. Would you not say that’s a good way to make me keep my word? I'm being awful generous to you here..."
"...Why would you risk it?" Handy asked. She smiled.
"I just have good reason to be confident. I fully intend to keep my word. This is just my way of proving it to you... and ensuring you keep yours."
"I thought you trusted me to keep my promises."
"There's nothing wrong with a little extra insurance, is there?"
"But your magic doesn't affect me."
"Just because I cannot feed from your heart nor affect your mind does not mean I cannot tie you to your own words. A geas works differently from other changeling magic." Her smile disappeared, and she looked at him with a serious expression. "You're already going after these ponies. This is just my way of ensuring I get what I want out of it and your way of keeping your promise to the unicorn."
"At the expense of my freedom."
"Only if you break it~" she sing-songed, "Otherwise you're as free as you ever were."
Handy thought for a good, long while. He was livid, and it must've shown as she began smiling more broadly. Chrysalis had him. He couldn't just walk away from this, not when she had Crimson. He needed the mare, she was his only definite ticket home if he ever got callous enough to exploit her submissiveness to spend more of her lifespan getting him home. More than that, if he didn't, she was his only reliable knowledgeable source on old magic, which apparently, he was woefully underprepared to face in a fight. Chrysalis was also lying, she had to be. What else was she getting out of this? She led him right into this trap with the geas, knowing full well he wouldn't trust her at her word. Why risk binding herself as well? Why would she want to do this? It couldn't be as simple as she said. What was he not seeing here? "How does this geas work?" he asked at last.
"You need to just look deep into my eyes," she said, her tone turning velvety, clearly enjoying this altercation. "Come on. Just do it and we can get a move on…." Handy look off to the side for some time, the changeling in front of him humming complacently. Sighing, he took off his helmet, eventually complying and looked the changeling in the eyes.
That was when the rest of the world disappeared.
All he could see were Chrysalis’ eyes and darkness around them. The eyes flashed periodically, and the darkness pulsed and distorted in tandem. He could hear her voice, but oddly enough, it was not the two tones he was used to hearing. It was... normal, almost. She insisted on speaking in that same, seductive tone, and he found he couldn't look away. "Do you wish to make a deal with me, Handy the Milesian?" she asked as the eyes pulsed, her voice like honey, worming into his ears, gently nudging, urging with an almost physical force. Handy felt compelled to reply but forced himself to take his time, to pick his words carefully. In legends, geases always worked out badly for the human because they fucked it up, didn't foresee pitfalls in the fae's wordplay, or let their mouths write cheques they couldn’t cash. Handy was all too aware how fond his mouth was of doing that last mistake and was determined to prevent that from happening.
"I wish to make such a deal with you, Queen Chrysalis of the changelings," he said. Chrysalis laughed at that, the sound ringing like crystal glass, glittering and beautiful. He grit his teeth, trying to concentrate his thoughts but finding it difficult.
"What do you wish to trade?"
"I do not wish to trade. I wish to make a promise for a promise," he replied. Chrysalis was silent for a moment. Her eyes and the blackness pulsed as they slowly drew nearer. The distortion of the surrounding darkness adopted a texture not unlike static, and his eyes hurt when he focused on his peripheral vision. Any attempt to focus away from her eyes was frustrated.
"What do you promise?"
"If Queen Chrysalis promises to release the unicorn mare, Crimson Shade, unharmed from her possession and does so immediately..." he heard a harrumph coming from the Queen and felt himself move, almost as if he fell back a short distance, but could not be sure "...I promise to retrieve for her that which she seeks from the one known as the Mistress and her servants." The last part was painfully vague, and Handy cursed himself for not having Chrysalis specify what it was she sought. His first mistake, he now realised, was initiating the deal himself. While successfully deflecting Chrysalis’ attempts to steer the conversation, he had only ended up being forced to specify what he was willing to do for her first. The eyes continued to pulse and seemed to be getting steadily closer as they spoke. Handy felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead, a strange heat flushing his head. Was this the magic at work?
"I will agree to this promise for a promise," Chrysalis said, her eyes barely inches away from his own, her voice ringing clear and increasing in intensity. Every word felt layered, heavy, authoritative, but still retaining that frustratingly seductive quality, "if Handy the Milesian agrees never to lay harm to me again." Ah, so that was it. The catch. She was still hung up on the shock treatment he had given her all that while ago. He could agree to that. "And to return what I seek to me, personally." Well, damn.
"I will agree to this if Chrysalis, in turn, promises not to harm me, or mine," he said as the eyes were almost entirely upon him, filling his vision. The heat on his face increased, and he realised he could smell something akin to freshly cut grass and honeysuckle. He felt a weight press down on his chest and her laughter was like gentle dewfall. God damn, he felt the familiar throbbing in his head whenever something ever tried affecting his mind, knowing that whatever effect this magic was having on him, it was mitigated and lessened because of whatever God blessed stroke of luck prevented him from being putty in her hooves. He had already struggled to keep his thoughts straight. He'd hate to see what it would be like if he didn't have any defence against their magic at all.
"Done," Chrysalis said at length. He felt breath hit his face as his vision was entirely consumed by the sea of green from her own eyes. Green which turned to a blue-tinged white surrounding her irises as the world returned, the sudden return of light almost a shock. He found himself resting back on the ground on his elbows, nose to nose with the changeling who pressed down on his chest. "Was that so terrible~?" she asked, a devious smile on her possessed muzzle. Handy's eyes widened in alarm.
"Get off," Handy said threateningly, more than a little uncomfortable by her proximity.
"Is that any way to speak to your Queen?" she asked, raising a hoof to Thorax's barrel. Handy shifted his weight, forcing the changeling off of him as he got to his knees and then to his feet. She stumbled a bit before righting herself on her hooves.
"You are not my Queen," he said, earning him a laugh.
"Oh, but would it be so terrible if I were? I understand how you feel."
"Do not assume—"
"Save us both the bother. You are just like us, Heartless. You feed on others, you take from them what you need and grow stronger because of it."
"I am nothing like you."
"Is that what you think? And what, pray tell, do you have in common with ponies more than us? Hm? Or griffons? They will not accept what you are, or what you need to do to survive. You helped us get our city back; you saved several of my changelings from captivity. You can make a good case for yourself here, with us."
"Enough."
"Come now, don't be like that~" she cooed. "I hardly ever tried to kill you after what you did to me, not even a little bit after you survived the Badlands. You impressed me, so surely you can—"
"Enough," Handy said. Had it ended there, had Chrysalis stopped her goading, he may have come to terms with what she was saying and dismissed it for the clear attempt at manipulation that it was. He would have calmed down. She did not, however, and slowly he began tuning out what she said, but the buzzing two toned sound of her voice grated on his ever fraying nerves as he paced before the changeling. She was enjoying antagonizing the human, switching to insults when goading him about his nature didn't prove enough to get him to react, pausing only once to wince as she nicked Thorax's fetlock on a nearby bramble. And after everything that happened that day, as much as he would've given anything to have just been left in peace to sort out his thoughts, he found himself struggling to keep down his anger but... found he couldn't bring himself to think of harming the Queen.
No, there was something different this time. This wasn't his usual guilt. He literally could not think about it, the thoughts melting away and his anger fizzling to nothing. He stopped mid pace and looked confused. Chrysalis smiled. "Something the matter, Heartless?" Handy shot her a glare, and her toothy grin widened. "Certain thoughts coming to mind? Or rather not, I'd imagine?"
"What did you do?"
"What did you do?" she parroted, breaking out into a laugh. "That's how the geas works, human. No matter who initiates the spell, it’s a two way street. I bind myself to my words and you bind yourself to yours. I just wanted to make a little demonstration to show you how it works."
"By pissing me off?"
"A crude way to put it, but yes," she said before her grin fell to a mere smirk. Handy just stopped and stared at the changeling for some time as she continued blathering on, preening, gloating about how much she was 'enjoying the shoe being on the other hoof'. He wasn't paying too much attention.
Now, dear reader, put yourself in Handy's boots for the time being. For the most part, on the sheer balance of things, he'd been having, for lack of a better word, a rather excellent week. Plenty of chances to blow off steam in a violent manner? Check. Time off duty? Check. Petty vengeance on a smarmy princely bastard? Check and check. Then, in the course of a single day, he lost his favourite cloak, which was literally the best cloak, he got axed in the back, and got a close and personal experience of what it was like to be dying slowly and painfully. He also got a better appreciation of how easy it could be for his vampiric nature to outright usurp control of his body... or drive him mad with fear. Which meant he was long overdue for a good hard look in the mirror in his near future about exactly what he was, which he was not looking forward to. He had the shit thoroughly kicked out of him, by a wizard no less, magic resistant armour be damned. And now he was in the middle of God only knows where, hopefully only miles away from festival grounds where, you know, all of his money and goods were. And his friends and his king had no fucking idea where he was. He had his freedom of thought and action subjourned by agreeing to a fae spell he had tied himself to in order to safeguard Crimson's release so that his one and only sure link to the Mistress and her magicks, which he needed now more than ever, wasn't lost to him. And now... Now, the person responsible for that last addition to the shitheap that thoroughly ruined Handy's mood was tittering at him like a schoolgirl.
And you know what? Fuck that. 'If she wants to fight wits with wits, then two can play at that game,' Handy thought viciously. She had been acting creepy this entire time, obviously enjoying putting the human on the back foot. Turnabout was fair play. 'Earlier she cut her fetlock... She felt Thorax's pain… She feels whatever she feels. You know, had she sent some nameless changeling that I didn't know, I might feel guilty about this next part,' he thought, grimly remembering how Thorax had kidnapped him and the pleasant stay he had had in the changelings' care as a result. 'But seeing as it’s this particular one...' He started laughing.
Chrysalis' ear flicked. "What’s so funny?"
"You know," Handy said, crouching down till he was eye level with the changeling Chrysalis had possessed. "You should really think your deals through more clearly," he said. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"That’s generally what one does when you make a geas, human." Chrysalis deadpanned. "I didn't put in any obligations I did not want."
"I know, I'm just saying...," he said as he placed his hands on her withers.
"W-What are you doing?" she asked, eyes darting to the hands as she raised a hoof to her barrel.
"Proving a point," Handy said, smiling lightly. "Particularly yours."
"What?"
"You say I'm like you, right? More than I'd like? Deceptive, sneaky?"
"What are you getting at?" she asked, turning her head to the side, looking at the human suspiciously. He was quiet for a moment, not directly answering the question. Casually eyeing a certain piece of her anatomy, almost admiringly.
"You know, you have such a lovely neck," he said, eyeing the body part in question. She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"It's not my...," she said before her eyes widened in comprehension. Handy's smile widened. Revealing his two little friends.
"That's what’s so funny."
--=--
She gasped as she shot up in bed, eyes wide and darting.
"My Queen?"
"AH!"
"Ahhh!" the nursemaid yelped, sending a silver tray with some kind of soup sitting atop of it clattering to the floor. She bowed low to the ground, covers sliding into place over her eyes, staring up at the Queen's eyes when she yelled at you being an immense faux pas in Changeling society. Also, that only applied when she yelled at you specifically. At anyone else, or at the room in general, you were solid. So that was why when her sovereign Queen shot upright in bed, screaming, the nurse maid barely blinked. Someone else's pain really wasn't their concern unless food was involved. However, if she was yelling at you? On your knees, motherbucker.
Changelings.
Chrysalis ignored her, instead wondering when the hell she had gotten into bed and why was the side of her face warm. She lifted a hoof to wipe the drool from her muzzle. God, she was glad noling else was around to see that. The nurse was bad enough. "What happened?" she demanded, glancing around her bedchambers. Everything seemed to be in place, but that wasn't the reason she was looking around imperiously as she got up from the bed.
"M-My Queen, you should probably res—"
"What happened?" the queen repeated more forcefully, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice. 'Okay... Okay, I'm back, this is my body, this is the palace, this is Lepidopolis. I'm fine,' she reassured herself, idly checking a few things, moving odds and ends around with her hooves, just to prove she could. She had tried possession several times before using similar pendants and her most trusted changeling guards. There was always a sense of disorientation when she got back into her body, but she had never felt anything this... intense. It was all she could do to keep her composure and not freak out.
"Y-You were found on the floor by your viewing crystal," the nursemaid said, pointing a hoof to the crystal orb in one corner. Chrysalis looked. It was still glowing blue. Squinting, she noticed a few tell-tale floating patterns within the crystal made up of magical light. It took practice to read, but it meant that Thorax was still alive... at least for now.
'That. Bucking. Human.' She ground her teeth as she idly rubbed the side of her neck, the phantom feeling of two puncture wounds fresh in her memory but, thankfully, absent from her dermis. "Y-Your lingservant discovered you this morning. You had been asleep for some time. My lady, are you alrigh—?" The nurse shut her mouth quickly and slid her covers back over her eyes once more as the Queen looked at her. The nurse's mane had been curled up in a bun ontop of her head. Not being a soldier, she, like most changeling civilians, didn't have to shave their manes and tails off.
"I am fine," the Queen insisted with finality. The nurse made to enquire further but ceased as Chrysalis maintained her glare.
"Y-Yes, my Queen. My apologies. I-I'll clean up and g-go."
"See that you do," she replied as the servant bowed before cleaning up the fallen soup and hurrying out of the chambers. As she left, Chrysalis closed the doors with her magic. Turning, she closed the doors leading to a balcony and drew the drapes. One more spell, and the room was silenced. No one would hear her for the next hour. She couldn't afford anyling finding out about what she was going to do next. She took a deep breath to calm herself at last as she gathered her thoughts.
And then Chrysalis squealed like a filly covered in worms, hopping from one hoof to the next.
"Stupid, blithering ape! How dare he!?" she fumed, shivering, rubbing the sides of her neck with her forehooves. Of course, of course there would be something she had to overlook. It was too good an opportunity to miss that she didn't think, didn't even consider that he'd figure some way to get back at her. She had felt everything, absolutely everything Thorax did when he sank his fangs...
She shivered. It... It was surprisingly pleasant... which just made it so much weirder. Changeling fangs did not do that to a lng afterall. She had largely come to terms with her feelings of fear towards the human, having watched him and learned that he did, in fact, have some semblance of guilt over what he had done to her. He had a weakness, something she could exploit, and that had given her confidence. Confidence enough that when her plans went awry, she had taken the opportunity to face the human, look him in the eye, and bend him to her will. Well, that and to prevent him from killing one of her changelings, but no ling needed to know about that little motivation. All that, only to have him turn on her, a bolt of terror shooting down her spine when she realized what he was doing. A veritable nightmare coming to fruition.
It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it'd be, to be honest.
She shook her head to dispel the thought and snarled. He thought he was so clever? Fine, maybe she would give the order to have that precious unicorn of his shaved, and that was just for starters, then... then she could... She felt the thoughts melt away and the anger fuelling them evaporate. She blinked dumbly in confusion before letting out a strangled noise in raw frustration and flipping over a vanity table with her magic. "Grrragh! Of course the geas would still be intact! That little—!" she shook with fury, rearing up and shaking her forehooves impotently, her breathing deep and hurried before calming down.
She sat on her haunches, idly rubbing the side of her neck as she looked at the fallen mirror on the ground that thankfully hadn't shattered. She bore a thoughtful expression as she brought her hoof away from her neck and looked at it, contemplating. A small smile crept across her muzzle.
'Its fine,' she said to herself, thoughts swarming in her head. 'Everything is just... fine.' The geas was quite clear where it mattered. Whether he wanted to or not, the human would bring her that which she sought from the Mistress. In person. Then she would be able to secure her position as rightful Queen now that all those pretenders from rival colonies were landing in Lepidopolis. The human would regret that stunt of his in due time – she would make certain of that. For now, however, he was useful.
"Yes..." she said quietly, idly rubbing her neck again as she looked out the balcony window, the narrow slit afforded by her closed curtains giving her a limited vision of the lit up, very much alive city below. "It'll be just, fine."
--=--
Well, he could rule out the possibility that he was anywhere near Ironcrest anymore.
He had seen the countryside from the airship when they had arrived. There were no forests anywhere nearby that had trees this huge. Or could have possibly been this quiet. There was no way this forest wouldn't be crawling with griffons after that debacle if it was anywhere nearby, and the forest on the festival grounds was far too small to compare to this place.
He looked up to the expanse of the canopy above him. Somehow, the moonlight still shone through that impenetrable expanse of black, casting the undergrowth in subtle hues of blue and gentle greys and causing the crystal clear water of the pond next to him to sparkle and dance as the remnants of the mist that earlier pervaded everything clung to the ground, ghostly fingers tickling the surface of the earth and swimming between the roots and stones. Not that he could appreciate it at that moment.
He had left her there, setting her down near the pond, having used the rags he had covered his arm and back with to tie her hooves. She wasn't going anywhere. He had waited for the fog to lift enough that he wouldn't lose her location as he crested the hill to get his bearings. Yep, he sure was lost. Nothing but endless forest wherever he looked. He called out, to see if anyone could hear him, but got nothing in response. Not even the sound of disturbed animals. That was eerie. No birds, no rustling of the underbrush, no buzz of insects, nothing but the swaying of leaves.
He felt uncomfortably aware of how devoid of life this part of the forest was. He could... tell where Thorax lay, even though the hill now stood between the two. He could feel where she was, a strange, burning sensation that pulled him... No, that wasn't the right phrase. It was more akin to a pinch that only let up when he turned in her direction. Was this an effect of changeling blood? It probably was – he couldn't make out anything distinct other than her location and her condition, which was slightly agitated sleep.
He huffed and turned away, walking. He was done with today, in so many ways. He was tired, yet thanks to his little 'snack', sleep wouldn't be coming for some time yet.
It had tasted like liquorice, if you must know, with a tangy, sizzling aftertaste and gave him a burning sensation in his head. He was reminded of the pungent smell of fecund earth after rainfall and the smell of strawberries. This was honestly one of the strangest things about his condition, he decided, the tastes, the 'smells' which only came to him when he was drinking, the feeling he got in his mind's eye. He figured he was only making these connections as the closest reference his mind had to what he was experiencing. Or at least he hoped that to be the case. It didn't make sense otherwise, but it was still strange as all hell.
What was interesting was that despite being able to feel Thorax's presence, he didn't particularly feel all that much stronger. He certainly didn't move nearly as fast as he would with other blood or perceive as much. Certainly, all these abilities were heightened more than he was naturally capable of, but the effect was woefully under par by comparison. He could feel the difference based on the residual thestral blood still in his system. Although… he felt possessed of a strange confidence that he couldn't quite place, a surety of purpose and direction, which was ironic since he was pretty damn lost.
Whatever, it had tasted good, he felt refreshed and full of life, and he got one over on Chrysalis. He could deal with not having any impressive powers this time around.
And with those thoughts, his mood darkened and his pace quickened. The creeping fog grew thicker and rose ever so slightly as he walked. The Queen's words weighed down on him as he went, and as good as it felt to knock her down a peg or two, that little stunt of his just... well, it just proved her right, now didn't it? He was sickened with himself. The Queen had hit closer to home than he ever cared to admit, and it had only been a day or so since he had actually contemplated engaging in, for lack of a better term, 'hunting'. The temptation of drinking living blood was just... It was intoxicating. He would often find himself grimacing and thinking about it each time he partook of an animal's blood to satiate the lust, recollecting the immense satisfaction and pleasure it gave him when he took from another living person. The intensity of the moment as he scraped his fangs along skin, searching for what he knew to be there, relishing in the anticipation, enjoying the apprehension and shuddering fear of those underneath him as he prepared to feed… It was exhilarating.
Their thrilling gasp of pain and shock as his fangs puncture skin and artery, the jolt of their bodies underneath him as they froze stiffly before relaxing, melting away into his embrace as he drank deeply, greedily, hungrily, each ounce of vital essence a shot of ecstasy through his own body. Every intake of breath through his nostrils filled him with the scent of their spilled blood, sending him wild. The smells, the feeling, the sheer psychic rush that flooded his intellect, the primal euphoria as something wild within him was sated by the barbarism. The raw pleasure he felt as he took from them...
How easy it would be, how often he longed for it, how often he pushed those thoughts, those desires to the back of his mind, out of sight where he could not think of it. How he could not bear to dwell on how good it felt, on his shame at how much he enjoyed it all.
How easy it would have been, he wondered, to have bitten Shortbeak?
She had been right there, curled up against him, inebriated, sleeping peacefully as he had listened to the steady, rhythmic pumping of the blood through her veins. How easily he could've just bent down, opened his jaws, and just taken from her. Wondering how she would taste, how she would've felt? How he had to suppress that very thought on the night beneath an avalanche of raw guilt and self-hatred.
How much had he wanted it anyway?
How tempting, how easy it would have been, to take from that young alicorn when he had her right where he wanted her? After having spent hours getting her alone and compromising how she felt so that she wouldn't have been in a position to resist had he actually went for it? He had a goal that day, he achieved it by scaring her, but the temptation to have gone further was... almost overpowering.
It was there, always, at the back of his mind, lurking, waiting, contemplating, wondering, surfacing only from time to time. Forcefully when he was hungry, willingly when he had fed recently such as right now. Always thinking, always wondering.
When he was in the book store in Canterlot. The mare behind the counter.
On the train to Ifrendare. The distracted stewardess. The young griffon lass by the window seat.
In the witch's hut in the cavern beneath the farm.
The irritable Countess he had dealt in the course of his duties as sword of the king.
The butcher, the baker, the alchemist...
The young servant griffon he had held under his cloak as the dragon fire had burned down the refreshment tent around them.
The injured mare in the burning arena with the emerald eyes...
It was there. It was always there. It had never gone away, no matter how successfully he had ignored it. It was a part of him. It was him. And Chrysalis saw that, she used that to get under his skin, and he hated her for dredging it to the forefront of his mind.
But now that it was here, he was having a harder time dismissing the thoughts. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to, not after what he had done. To think Joachim had warned him against taking from any more living people, for both his sake and theirs. What did he know!? He had no right to demand that of him! So what if he was his king!? He could do as he wished and damn the consequences! He had needs and he shouldn't be restricted from the nectar of life and subsist on living off of the dredges of butcher shops because of the fear of a bunch of walking wineskins!
That's what they really were in the end, weren't they? His friends, his servants, and the people he knew – they were food to him, and no amount of pleasantries and civilization was going to change that. They were food, they were power, it was his pleasure, and his right to take from them what he needed, what he wanted, to lose himself in the act and reap the spoils it gave him! In fact, why didn’t he do just that?
Thorax was still back there. She still had plenty of blood left – he had made sure of that. He contemplated doing it, relishing in the feeling of the changeling when he fed on her, the unique, elastic texture of the strange psuedo skin they had. The feeling of shock and fear giving way weakly to acceptance, the immense rush as he feasted on her blood, the memory of it still fresh in his mind's eye, the sheer thrill of it. How he didn't want to stop, the dark temptation to drain her dry, sucking every precious milliliter of her life’s blood until he felt her heart give out!
--=--
It took him a while to register the pain in his unarmoured left fist. It was caked in his own blood despite that his wounds had healed over near instantly. He had spent the better part of half an hour punching an indention in the ancient, unyielding wood of the tree. He hadn't even realised he had been doing it until the pain it caused finally broke through. He blinked, and the darkness that had shrouded his thoughts lifted, registering the pain he was inflicting on himself to clear his head.
He withdrew his hand from the tree, splinters lodging in his skin as he painfully uncurled his fingers, stiff from the constant force of impact they were under. His hand was shaking. No, he was shaking as he steadied his wrist with his other hand, noticing it was just as bad. Water dropped on his stained hands, smearing the dried in blood and dirt. He looked up. It wasn't raining. He felt something cold and wet on the side of his face. He rubbed it away, only to discover his own tears.
He was so lost in his... thoughts would be one word for them, that he did not know where he was going. He didn't even register he had been punching the tree, nor why. His body, or something in him, had taken over, trying to inflict pain to drive away the dark thoughts, to establish some kind of control over himself. To put a stop to his own worst impulses.
Only now after the fact did he realise that he so very desperately never wanted to think about such things again.
Ever.
He fell to his knees, continuing to shake, finally admitting to himself that he was, in fact, a monster. Not an opinion, but an actual, tangible fact. He had to forcibly control himself, to watch himself always or else... or else that would be him. That would be what he became, that would be what he would do to everyone around him. He'd become something less than human, less human than the world full of foreign races and species he now lived in. He'd become a debased creature who would tear open the throats of those who trusted him and watch them die in his embrace, revelling in it so long as he got what he wanted out of it.
And that scared him more than anything else he could imagine.
"God...," he said weakly through shuddering breaths, his mouth suddenly dry as his voice croaked. "God, I'm sorry... I am so sorry..." he said, fumbling at his breastplate, reaching up and into it through his gorget, pulling out the small chain and the cross upon it. The left arm of the cross had broken off at some point. He hadn't even noticed until now.
"Please, help me. I'm... I'm sorry, I don't... I don't really want this, these things. Please!" he pleaded, the gentle rolling fog covering him up to his waist as he knelt there amidst the undergrowth. "It’s not my fault!" he said more forcefully, a shaking hand taking off the helmet and letting it fall to the ground. "It’s not my fault; you can't blame me!" he shouted, his voice carrying for some distance in the unearthly silence of the dark forest.
"I... I can't... It’s the temptation. I can't be faulted for the temptation! It was put upon me. That was not my fault! That was not what I choose!" he protested weakly. "I don't... I don't act on it, not always... I put it out of my mind like… like I'm supposed to with every other sin!" He gripped the cross in his unarmoured hand more forcefully, imprinting it into his skin. His words sounded hollow to his own ears, in the face of what he saw within himself. What vileness he was capable of, what a part of him wanted, what he wanted.
"No!" he said quietly, his voice soft, desperate. "I'm sorry... I just... I just want help. God, please... Why...?" Nothing stirred but the idle plant life in the gentle, almost non-existent breeze that flowed around him, the mist that sat with him rolling by peacefully, ignorant and uncaring of the storm of fear and despair raging in the heart and soul in their midst.
"Please," he begged, thoughts coming unbidden of those who he assaulted, and those he had killed. Justifications and rationalizations turned to ash in the face of the reality of the evil he had committed. The wind blew, the trees stirred, silence reigned in the wake of his voice.
"I'm so sorry."
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Haaaandy! <3. Oh, the love I have for you, Handyman, for writing such an excellent story.
Is it a bad thing to say that its a good Monday when Bad Mondays updates?
Poor handy, being pace force to live like this for the rest of his undead life...
4835480 Thanks. Glad you're enjoying it.
4835485 Yes. Yes it is bad. And you should feel bad.
4835561 Fun fact, Handy needs to go through the same shit regular mortals do in order to survive. Food, warmth, shelter, vampirism doesn't remove those needs. Make of that what you will.
That was a powerful final scene, damn. Actually made my heart rate quicken a bit.
Also, GG
oi61.tinypic.com/14idaps.jpg
For all its hilarity, Bad Mondays is wonderfully mature.
This Monday was made slightly less shittier by the fact that Bad Mondays updated.
Vampires are always bad people.
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I have a huge respect for Handy dispute the shit he goes through, he still clings to his faith.
thanks for the update!!
well shit
So Handy is starting to have a total breakdown. I wonder who's going to be the one to snap him out of it.
Also, I really hope that Handy finds a way to crush all of the ambitions that Chrysalis has.
Indeed, vampires are bad. That is why I can never play as one in Skyrim even. It just revolts me. Also, damn all Twilight vampires, may their sparkling asses burn in hell.
Jesus Christ: hey, isn't there someone who calling you?
God: Hmmm, oh that just another addict.
"And man raised his fist to the heavens and shouted 'WHY ME GOD?', and God whispered back 'Because I don't like you'." Kinda hope the guy gets some kind of closure by the end of this or at least see's Earth again.
4837215
which is nuked to shit
Excellent story, excellent chapter, except.. God. Boo.
4835714 Glad you think so, I am rather tired of HiE stories where the protagonist never really faces the genuine moral quandries of their inevitably changed nature (lets face it, most of them get powers or do questionable shit eventually), so I had this carefully built up over time. Handy may or may not come to terms with his new circumstances, but he had to face the reality sooner or later, even if I had to break him down to do it. If theres one thing I take seriously, its a character's mental state, I don't care how funny the story is.
Also I am honoured you placed BM up alongside Hood's masterpieces on your page, I'd be lying if I said his work wasn't at least partial inspiration for BM's continent spanning shenanigans.
4835781 Are saying it was a .... Good Monday?
4835959
4836055 But... I have no feels
4836077 He's not the most religious person I've written, if I am honest, since I wrote him as a quite obviously lapsed Catholic. He was much more religious when he was younger and I put signs of that throughout the story (previous devotion to St. Jude of the Impossible cropping up, even though it was sarcastic, in Lepidopolis when he killed the dragon, the fact that he listened to theological podcasts in university as mentioned in the itnerview with Twilight as the source of his 'ass-pull' of an explanation as to why humans say 'everyone' rather than 'everyhuman', he has gregorian chant and plainsong on his phone which he used to help him relax and study which, lets be honest, most ordinary college kids simply wouldn't consider doing) but that isn't really relevant to bring up in the story at this juncture, likely may not ever be a moment to bring it up, but mentioning it here gives the neccessary background as to why he'd reach for God in his darkest moments, when he is alone and afraid.
4836096 You're welcome!
4836445 Suddenly, drama!
4836621 He'd have to know what those ambitions are first, that's a long ways off however. I can garauntee, he'd be more than a little surprised by some of them.
4836821 Vampires are an inherently creepy and unsettling concept. They're meant to be, no matter the interpretation or spin placed upon them, how powerful, how balanced or how 'human' they are, they are an unnatural force and should be respected as such. Bram Stoker's portrayal of Dracula as an Anti-Christ in the archtypical literary portrayal of the vampyr is immensely instructive in this, (basically the vampire's entire existence was anti-Christic; deceptive, clinging to darkness, unliving, subsuming off of the blood of others so as to prolong his unnatural life as a direct inversion of the eucharist and the blood of Christ, etc, etc, etc), even in stories where such a creature is the 'hero' this should by default be recognised. That way readers will actually feel like they're dealing with such a creature, no matter its portrayal.
4837015 Addiction is certainly one way to look at it.
4837215
4837518 Just clarifying, the story has so far not confirmed events on earth one way or another since Handy got yanked through the veil, only what Crimson and the Mistress 'saw' of earth before attempting to steal a weapon. Indeed, by mistaking Handy's car for the weapon in question, a war may have been avoided entirely (there's no way people aren't going to panic when all of a sudden a storm erupts inside a nuclear facility and one of your bombs ups and vanishes. Some asshole on a country road going missing however? Meh) There certainly were no bombs being lobbed about while Handy was still hopping about the place unless he REALLY wasn't paying attention to the news that week.
That being said, closure is a precious commodity and may or may not be available when sought. I'll leave it at that.
4837964 This is fimfic. I know bringing God into the matter in any unironic manner (regardless of wether or not He actually exists in universe) is just asking for dislikes, but it didn't make sense not to do so in this scenario. Someone like Handy in Handy's position would eventually start crying out to the heavens in desperation, particularly after such a deep seated revelation about themselves as one last desperate attempt to keep themselves together while breaking down. Wether or not God hears and answers, or even exists in the first place, is immaterial to the fact that the character believes so.
4837891 ...Are you sure?
I mean think about this for a minute, are you actually, genuinely sure you want me to do this?
To unleash Lyra on my poor poor readerbase on a quasi-regular basis?
With her shitty fanfiction?
I mean, I will if that's what people want its just...
Are you sure you're sure?
I thought that it was THE reason for him being drunk as shit.Nyeegh, the end is nigh!
Sometimes it's good to be bad.
4838354 He wasn't drunk, he just thought he was when he woke up in the everfree originally; massive hangover, no idea where you are, evidence of apparant passage of time (grown hair, unshaved stubble, etc) it was his natural first conclusion despite at that point in time not being the sort of person who went and got wasted.
It was eventually revealed by Crimson he was yanked through the veil, the effects he suffered were just the consequences of such a violent translocation between worlds, his last memories were of him driving home early one night and getting caught in a sudden storm.
That said, timeline wise, Handy left earth during the height of the Ukrainian crises in Eastern Ukraine so you know, maybe its the end of the world.
4838361 Some men do, in fact, just want to watch the world burn.
4838305 Red leader, standing by.
4838299 my point still stands. Anyway good story so far.
Man, I just love Chrysalis in this story. You write her so perfectly!
Hope to see more of her soon.
Huh, not a bad story at all. What grabbed and kept my interest is the worldbuilding you manage. Very few authors have the creativity to make a balanced, complicated world, but you've managed it very well. I especially enjoy the subterfuge where everyone is trying to use Handy because of the thought out, reasonable history and motivations they have. And not 'because the plot said so, shut up.'
I have to admit, I'm a sucker for changelings. I'm not quite sure why Handy carried around the amulet for so long, before and after discovering it's uses. Subconscious respect for their queen? Because he could? Masochism? I'm hoping he and Chrysalis turn a little less antagonistic over time, and you keep the changelings in the 'dark but reasonable and not pointlessly evil and stupid' category they seem to have settled in. I can't get a scene out of my head:
Handy: Here's your magic item. The threats and indentured servitude were lovely, but I'm off.
Chrysalis (Annoyed): As if I could get them any other way.
Handy : Asking politely typically helps. I do work for gold as well.
Chrysalis opens mouth, raises hoof. Closes mouth. Thinks.
One of the only things I don't really like is the vampirism angle the story takes from time to time. It makes for neat powerups, but.. something just feels wrong about it. Personal preference, I suppose. I admit, Handy seems to skirt the edge of Gary Stu from time to time, but a slightly overpowered protagonist works in the situations he keeps jumping into. I am a fan of the trope where the protagonist's reputation is his greatest weapon, which is very much a thing here.
One thing I wonder about is what Handy is working toward. He wants to get home, but more often than not he seems to deliberately run into entangling political disputes rather than researching or manipulating for information about leaving. He doesn't work to make friends and almost casually makes enemies, so there's always the crushing loneliness and constant danger of attack. He has a large influence that is only growing, but he doesn't seem to be using it for anything, choosing instead to just coast along with the griffons. Maybe I'm looking at it wrong.
4839181 You're not imagining things.
The thing one has to bear in mind is that Handy is hopelessly ignorant of the world he is in, everything is new and potentially dangerous, and things that were once mildly dangerous are now apocalyptically lethal, (fire for example), the thing is Handy has tried to find a way home. In fact that was his entire motivation for intimidating and subverting Crimson from the mistress' control after learning she was the one who brought him here, once he had her out of Equestria and somewhere safe (among the griffons) the first thing he did was grill her about how and why he was brought here and how he can get back. It was revealed he was brought over at a time of great magical conflux, allowing her to use absurd levels of magic to pierce the veil, (and even then, did so poorly), and at the expense of some of her lifespan.
However she still can send him home and is willing to, the problem being that the time of the convergence of magical winds has passed and the next nearest similar phenomena is not due for at least a century, meaning if she does it, she will summon absurd levels of magic and basically light herself up like the times square Christmas tree, sending alarm bells across magical radars hundreds of miles away, drawing the attention of oh, lets say, the princesses who will doubtlessly be alarmed at the sudden powerful surge of strange magic... as well as the court wizards of the High King and most of the minor kings and queens of the griffons, numerous magical creatures, monsters, and wakening the occasional hibernating dragons in neighbouring mountains.
Meaning Handy has a ready means of getting home on hand, the only question is not how to use it but whether he has the moral courage of asking a poor girl with a broken slave mentality to sacrifice more of her life for his sake and do so with the possibility of the ritual being interrupted by serious magical heavy hitters.
More to the point, he had a freebie means of getting home no farther in than chapter three of the story where the voice offered him nearly anything he could've wanted in return for him merely breaking the stone, including, specifically, hurtling him back across the veil to earth if he so wished. But the shame he felt at the unicorn Warm Night's selflessness in freeing the trapped miners and Joachim's own saving him from falling down the collapsing tunnel forced him to wish for their salvation first.
And again in Ifrendare he deliberately utilised his position as Sword of the King to investigate a petty dispute in a duchy because the word 'necromancy' was being bandied about, hoping such 'forbidden magic' might help his little pet mage figure another way out for him. Only to be frustrated yet again.
Its not that he isn't trying to get home, its just that all three times only reinforced the reality of how exactly difficult that process can be and given what little he knows of the nature of the veil between worlds (from what little Crimson understands), 'normal' magical means aren't going to do him diddly either if the mistress' own supposedly rule breaking magic has extreme difficulty, (earth pony Thunder throwing around spells like it was going out of style for example). He barely understands how magic actually works at its most simplistic level himself, so its not as if he can dedicate the next 40 or so years of his life learning about it to try to figure something out, (though the thought crossed his mind),
There is also the worrying possibility that he'll be importing honest-to-God vampirism to earth if he does make it back, which he is currently trying very hard not to think about. Especially after recent events. Right now he is currently banking on the extremely dodgy logic of 'There's no magic back home, right? This disease is magical, right? If I get home the magic will go away, its as good as a cure... right?' and 'E-Even if it doesn't, I can't pass it on, can I? I mean, none of the people I bite in this world turn, it doesn't seem transmissible, I can't infect other humans with it... right?' He has nothing to base these assumptions on other than slim hopes, which makes his search for home not only difficult but potentially wildly irresponsible.
He has a growing influence true, one he deliberately cultivates but its not one that's exactly helpful to outsourcing research. Handy was found studying a book of Equestrian law by Luna, who immediately drew the worst possible conclusions. An outtake with one of my editors regarding this:
So imagine what Luna, or anyone else even, would do if they learned this same adventurer was putting feelers out for exotic, dangerous or forbidden magicks? That at least Handy is wise to, he likes being insulated from the extremely powerful pony princesses who are distrustful of him.
Which segues nicely into the griffon problem. Which is one I have acknowledged since March.
Now, it is worth noting the timescales here, this story started, in universe, in early summer, it is now mid autumn. he has been with the griffons, despite the wordlength, a comparatively short time in real life terms, and it is perfectly logical for him to remain with them in universe at that given time. Note he was perfectly fine with being a mercenary and adventurer up until he found out that Equestrian royal guards had deliberately sought him out while he was a passenger on a train for suspected shenanigans around Spurbay (which he was responsible for, mind, but they didn't know that, but they knew he was involved somehow, which is why they sought him out for questioning) not wanting to be dragged before fucking royalty regarding the clearly evil voice and stone of power he shattered, ( you dont have to be genre savvy to know you done goofed there, even if he was desperate at the time), he gleefully took Joachim's offer of employment as the get out of jail card it was, remaining with the griffons kept him out of pony hooves. Even if this choice hurtled him headlong into a succession dispute in Gethrenia, it was the consequence of actions he took which seemed reasonable at the time. Staying with the griffons gave him shelter, food, employment and a modicum of power and prestige as well as the platform from which he could extend his influence and reputation in the first place without too much fear of backlash. Couple this with above frustrations in finding his way home, is it any wonder he stayed with them as long as he did? Him going to Canterlot was his reputation biting him in the ass, not willing to 'appear weak' he went, counting on the presence of no less than four griffon kings to keep him safe, which by and large it did, except for his own fuckup with Blueblood.
That said, he is free of them for now, in fact the entire purpose of the last arc was to help me justify getting Handy out of the griffon hole he fell into and progressing the adventure. Writers fuck up and write their adventures into a corner sometimes, I did that, that writer was me, and sometimes that writer just has to write a fucking novel's worth of words to dig himself out of a hole he jumped into like a hyperactive eejit. Shit happens I guess.
Also with regards the changeling pendant; Handy was holding the idiot ball. No. Really. He done goofed. You see when he first sussed out what the pendant could do, he did the sensible thing and tried throwing it out the window... only for Joachim to catch it, give it back, inform him he was going to need some proof for the stories he had to tell when they got to Skymount. Handy did not like this because it meant that he was 'known' to have this weird pendant he got from the changelings. He was reluctant to destroy it, it being magical it might explode with the force of a small firework or a bundle of TNT for all he knew, and he did not wish to throw it away in case someone sussed out that it was a spy device and accuse Handy of spying. So he kept it where he could keep an eye on it to the point where, on occasion, he even forgot he wore it. Its coming back to bite him in the ass hard now, but he couldn't have foreseen exactly how.
I do apologise for any potential gary stuishness on Handy's part, something I really try to avoid, particularly in these recent chapters where I make it plainly evident that his powers come with somewhat crippling downsides (with more to come) and, ultimately, insufficient for the task at hand, (notice how little good it did him against Thunder even when he had two magic wielding warriors helping him out), he is powerful with the potential to snowball, but I ask you to trust me in that I will not be putting him up against things where he will just curbstomp all the time. As for vampirism itself, I can understand if you feel it is uncomfortable, the discomfort is at least partially intentional and I am going somewhere with vampirism as a theme.
Furthermore, regarding Handy's own character as a person: at no point did I establish him as a nice man, or even a friendly one, he is quick to make enemies and slow to make friends because that is who he is as a person. This is only exacerbated by the pressures and fears projected upon him by being trapped all alone on an alien world, of course he is unlikely to reach out and make friends, of course when threatened he response with aggression and bravado. I have long since established him as a clearly unsociable character, whenever he is at a social event, its largely because it is forced upon him (working at the Shady Trough, Joachim's coronation, etc) with the rare exception of the night before his duelw ith Blueblood where he spent the evening with his fellow knights, the crushing loneliness finally getting at him. Its just who he is and the consequences of his choices in life which are only being reinforced the more bitter he becomes. So much can be resolved by him sucking it up, swallowing his pride and asking for help, but how many people are willing to do that with their problems in real life? How many of us let our foolishness and pride be our undoing, even when we are literally on our knees and are falling apart?
Why would Handy be different? The crushing loneliness is at least partly of his own doing
4839754
First off, thanks for the response. It's really nice seeing an author take a comment rationally. I apologize if I come across as a little critical, I just tend to read a little too much into things with stories I like.
You make excellent points. I had not thought of the vampirism thing going back home with him. And I'm glad to see the griffon arc ending. It was nice while it lasted, but its a good direction you're going in now.
I will admit, Handy does seem to be getting as good as he's taking in recent chapters, which is mostly what set my mental alarms down. An untrained everyguy can only luck out so much in fights, and Handy lucked out quite a bit starting off. Even for a magical pony land with weaponized friendship.
Regarding his character, yeah I can understand that's just how he is. He comes across a lot like me: trying to do the right thing, but not at all social and certainly an idiot sometimes. That's probably why it's a little frustrating to read, come to think of it. I want him to.. have a milestone of some sort. Really come to trust someone else (Beside Joachim) , or do something that everyone acknowledges as truly good (Which ruins the fun of being the antihero, but logic has no place in gut feelings!), or make up with an enemy to become an honest, powerful ally. Something to change his views on things, just a little.
That outtake is very interesting. It's a good point, considering how literally everything he does is judged. It would be neat to see if Equestria makes inquiries about this nonexistent country half the world away, if they believe this is some sort of prelude to invasion. It might be interesting if in a later arc of the story, Handy does relent a little about his actual homeland.
Help! I'm drowning in feels!
s2.postimg.org/f43atwgc9/addtext_com_Mj_Aw_NDQ4_MTM3_Nz_U0.jpg
This story... It doesn't strike me at my heart, simply because i'm mostly a cold person but... It's definitely one of the best stories i've ever read, bordering on the line of n online story (i'm not going to put fanfiction because, that's...well sorta insulting honestly.) to a god damn novel. Bravo, this is just... god damn, it's fucking amazing, especially within only around eight months, give or take. But fuuuuuck, keep doing what your doing.
4838433 Think man! You'll doom them all!
4838682 Thanks.
4838854 You will and I'm glad you think I wrote her well, she's actually my second favourite villain thematically from the show next to Tirek and definitely my favourite villainess.
4840666 Good to hear, and you're never too late, in fact you're early, we haven't even reached the halfway point yet.
4841562 Whats that? Little Terminal is stuck in the well?
Good.
4842389 This is high praise, thank you sir, I shall strive to make the rest of this story as entertaining as what has been written.
4849307 You're never too late. Also thanks. Honestly I am quite happy with the attention its gotten thus far really.
4839988 If you pay attention, I have made hints that people on the continent are woefully ignorant of lands beyond the seas and there is a reason for that. Namely the influence of the Kingdom of the Black Isles. Also note the globes upon Luna's desk in the recent interlude and how Celestia noted with disapproval that they each had conflicting numbers and shapes of continents outside of those immediately known to Equestria. Namely the continent they're on and the one the zebras and saddle arabians live on to the east which they still know very little about.
Make of that what you will.
4849359 Ah, fuck you! Help me up lke you did with that one griffon earlier in the story!
4850202 Do not mistake me for my character.
We are not the same person.
Unlike him, for example, your suffering amuses me.
4850251 I'm not confusing you guys, I'm just saying you did because you're the fucking author! Get me outta here!!
4850270 *Leans over the edge of the well and whispers* "No"
4850299 *shoots at you with bolt pistol*
4850353 Thus ends bad mondays!
Have a good life everybody!
4850645 SUCCESS!!
4852414 You'll probably like how his story turns out.... maybe
4849359 And it shall be glorious! Whatever supernatural figures that dwell in the skies be on your side!
WAIT, I GET IT NOW.
Changeling blood amplifies emotions! Hence his incredible anger, followed by the crippling sorrow!
...is that right? :T
4853885 I can say that a heightened sense of how others are feeling is an effect, yes. But that's not the main abilities changeling blood grants, it depends upon interaction with others for those abilities to shine, which is why Handy has not noticed anything yet.
The emotions on display here are all Handy.
4854023
Damn, and here I thought I was being a smarty-smart pants with really smart pants.
4854043 It wasn't a bad guess, but Handy's despair and sorrow is very much real and unaugmented.
A typical example of bad things happening to a good man.
I really hope he will be able to find something with the deer. Or if nothing else, getting rid of the magical taint the salve has left him with
4854062 I have to ask, is god a tangible idea with tangible effects in this story, or is he simply an outlet for handy to express his emotions.
4863264 *shrugs*
4867509
4867576
You know nothing Jon Snow
4862524 Either way, he'll need to do something about that little addiction of his. He's been hitting the salve almost nightly to help him sleep for two months now. Suddenly going cold turkey on any drug is unpleasant.
Also find something? What are you hoping he finds that he didn't find with the Griffons?
4852414
4852879 Blueblood gets a raw deal in most fics, thanks to the seven or so minutes of screentime he gets. To an extent BM is not much of an exception, at least at first. I have to disabuse people of the common fandom interpretation of his character before I can do anything with him, which means deconstructing it, in this case violently. I'll address Blueblood's story later on in BM, so I can garauntee you'll get some closure on that front at least.
4874066 kinda hoping he can find something in himself. the man has become a drug addict, a vampire and the fucking sword of a king, is hunted by a cabal of old magic users, is semi-hated by the half deities of the world, has a witch that has taken to watching him and the queen of the changelings kidnap and force a fucking mind contract on him. that kind of shit is enough to break most men and i doubt that he is in any way mentally healthy right now.
what i think he needs is a good old system flush to get rid of the drugs and to be given heavy hallucinogenics and sent on a soul wander through the deep woods to try to get his inner mind straight. even if he doesn't come to some great revelation of who he is, who can deny that it would be funny to see a heavily armored human vampire with a warhammer run around the forrest while hallucinating vividly