126 - Days Under the Peach Trees
Extended Holiday
Ch: 126: Days Under the Peach Trees
Act 18
Monkeygascar was in a beautiful time of year. While Equestria was currently in the middle of winter, the small island nation was just beginning its dry season. The air was hot and warm, and the island’s vegetation was flush and green. Wukong's peach orchard glowed with blossoms on the edge of their vision. Monkeys were everywhere, enjoying all types of activities in the bright sunlight, from chasing each other through the boughs to lazing in a sunbeam. It had surprised Grif, if only slightly, that their landing and disembarking was taken with little more interest than a passing stormcloud. He hadn’t expected them to adapt so quickly to the idea of the large airship sitting peacefully near the coast on a small pocket of air as it waited for its inhabitants to return.
Wukong played the part of the gracious host as he led the newcomers across the island, pointing out curiosities he thought they may find interesting, or happily explaining some odd aspect of Monkey culture.
“Of course, we still return to the mountain summit to sleep. It’s safer that way,” Wukong noted.
Pensword opened, but then closed his muzzle, not daring to ask the question. Inigo, on the other hoof, being a child, didn’t see the problem.
“Why’s it safer?” he asked.
“Because, should anything be hunting on my island at night, I would feel it before it could reach my Monkeys,” Wukong said.
“Wait,” Day Moon spoke up, “you’re saying something hunts on the island?”
“Well, did you expect me to wipe out the natural ecosystem?” Wukong asked.
Instead of fear or surprise, excitement dawned in Day Moon’s eyes as he grinned. “Can I hunt with you?” he asked.
Wukong shook his head. “You misunderstand. I do not go after anything, unless there is reason. I and my people have moved into their home. It is not our right to kill them without need.”
Oh.” Day Moon’s smile turned to a frown. “I’ll go to sleep on the ship, then.”
“There is nothing wrong with eagerness, my young friend,” Wukong said consolingly as he laid a leathery hand on the foal’s shoulder, “but we must temper that with perspective. It is a lesson that took me over five hundred years to learn.”
“I’d love to hear about that,” Vital said with a gentle smile. “I’ve only heard one side of the story, after all. Hearing from your end would be a true honor.”
“Perhaps,” Wukong smiled at Vital. “After some wine.”
Vital hesitated. “Um … are we talking wine in the sense of fresh pressed or wine in the sense of makes you woozy and tipsy?”
“Depends on the jar,” Wukong laughed. “Peaches are tricky that way. Store their juice long enough in the right conditions, and it could be anything.”
“You like the surprise, don’t you?”
“I don’t get a lot of them anymore,” Wukong noted with a dry laugh. “If you know my story, then you know I am a very, very old Monkey.”
“Who was very, very much needed,” Vital said returned, “and whose legacy has not gone forgotten in the land of his birth.”
“So long as people don’t mistake me for the pig,” Wukong chuckled. “That foolish pig.”
“The adorable one with the handsome face, who always got the girl?” Vital asked as he wiggled his brow playfully.
“Well that's what he’d say,” Wukong laughed. “But that was Sandy, in reality.”
“If I see them, I’ll send them a hello from you, if you’d like.”
“I was under the impression the time of gods and monsters was over?” Wukong raised an eyebrow.
“Knowing our luck, we’ll run into something,” Pensword muttered.
“Besides, you never know. I like to prepare for potential eventualities, especially when I believe it could be a positive one,” Vital said.
“My leaving was not positive by any definition,” Wukong said dryly.
“Perhaps, but your relationship to Sandy and Pigsy was. I was thinking more of that.”
“Let's not worry about it for now. You have quite a walk yet to go,” Wukong noted as they approached a long staircase carved into the side of the mountain. “I will see you at the top.” And with a backflip, Wukong was gone.
Vital sighed, and then grinned as he looked up. “Ah, my old nemesis. Stairs.”
“Well, have fun,” Grif chuckled as he took to the air. Avalon and Shrial soon followed him, and they turned towards the summit together.
“Vital chuckled. “Shall we, Trixie?”
“Trixie supposes we’ll have to, unless the commander would be generous enough to give us a ride?” She looked to Pensword hopefully.
Pensword and his family were already in the air, and he chuckled as he looked down on the couple. “Stairs build character. And besides, you might get to see some cool carvings.”
“And maybe have a romantic moment or two,” Lunar Fang added cheekily.
Pensword smirked, and laughed as they headed up the mountain.
“Don’t you think we should have waited for them, Darling?” Rarity asked Hammer Strike, having already started walking with her husband.
“Nah. They’ll make it in the end.”
“Before or after Trixie has a nervous breakdown?”
“After. Without a doubt.”
“Poor dear. She can’t even teleport to the top, since she’s never been here before, can she?”
“Nope,” Hammer Strike commented.
“Of course, I suppose she could try intermittent teleports to varying points along the stairs that she can actually see, until she reaches the top,” Rarity mused, “but you don’t want me to tell them that, do you?”
“She’ll tire herself out quicker that way.”
“Have you tested that theory?”
Teleportation, from what I’ve been able to note, is intense when done in rapid succession. If it was one long range jump, the amount of energy would be drastically less than rapidly bouncing between locations.”
“And I’m guessing portals will be just as consuming, if not more so?”
“More, without a doubt. Portals are two continuous points of travel that are open for a much longer time than an instantaneous transport.”
“I hope Vital is as patient as you say he is, then. We’ve had the training to take this kind of a climb. I’m not quite so sure about Trixie.”
“They’ll get to the top eventually. Otherwise, they can just stay on the ship, and enjoy the same view, day in and day out.”
A distant wail echoed up the stairs.
“And there it is,” Rarity said with a sigh.
Pensword lounged on a tree branch hanging over the stairs as he waited for the others to finish the climb. A half eaten peach sat perfectly balanced in his hooves. Moon River lay beside him in the comfortable shade, chewing on a peach slice he’d cut for her.
“Hey, Trixie, we finally made it!” Vital called as his head finally peaked up over the cliff’s plateau to see the many trees. Simple wooden and stone huts dotted all over along the ground and wooden ones within the trees. There was no road, save for a beaten path that twisted and turned all over the area. Near the center was a larger stone building where Wukong likely lived. This was implied by the giant painting of him on the outer wall.
“Welcome to the party,” Pensword replied with a giggle. “Did you enjoy the hike?”
“I didn’t mind too much. All that fitness training with Grif sure helped. Trixie, on the other hand….”
“Why … are there so many stairs?” Trixie asked, panting as she finally brought her hooves shakily over the last step, and onto the plateau. Her mane drooped below, brushing the ground as her magician's hat hung lopsided on her head.
“Could have been worse. Imagine if there wasn’t any stairs,” Hammer Strike commented from his position in the shade of another tree. Rarity nuzzled him with a gentle smile.
“Trixie is lucky to be alive.”
“Luck’s got nothing to do with it. And if you’re really that hot and tired, I could always cool you off,” Vital offered as he helped to carry her over to the shade, where a bowl of water and another bowl of peaches sat waiting for them.
“I thought you were waiting till after the wedding?” Grif asked from a higher branch, wiggling his eyebrows.
“... How does that even make any sense at all, Grif? I was offering to give her some relief. That has nothing to do with a wedding,” Vital deadpanned.
Pensword looked to Vital. “Uh…” he began, only for Lunar Fang to smack him with her leather wing. “Understood. If he doesn’t get it, I won’t mention it.”
Trixie, for her part, looked away, blushing.
Vital rolled his eyes as he caused a gentle sparkling blue mist to hover around the mare, trailing through her mane and tail as they began to perk up again.
“Hope you guys like peaches,” Grif said as he grabbed one, and bit into it.
“They weren’t my favorite, but I don’t mind a few now and again,” Vital said. “How about you, Trixie?”
“Mmm?” Trixie looked up from a partially demolished peach.
“They’re good, aren't they?” Lunar Fang asked as her fangs sank into her own peach, and she struggled not to giggle.
“What do you guys think Fluttershy would think of all this?” Vital asked curiously. “Would she go crazy over these peaches?”
“Well, we can try to bring some back with us,” Pensword replied with a smirk, “but I think she would go crazy.”
“I see Moony hasn’t forgotten them,” Grif chuckled as Moon River gnawed on a peach with only pleased squeaks coming from her.
“I know,” Pensword chuckled. “I think she actually isn’t as happy with the peaches at home as she is here.” He laughed as Moon River cooed and pounced a second peach as she tossed away the remains of the first one. “So … I say we just relax, and enjoy this evening, eat dinner, and see what tomorrow brings.”
“Trixie seconds the motion,” Trixie said tiredly.
“All in favor?” Vital asked with a cuckle as he raised a hoof.
“Well it’s really Hammer Strike’s call,” Grif chuckled.
“Sure,” Hammer Strike shrugged.
“Sorry, Rarity. Not much for style here. Wukong’s kinda alone on the whole clothing thing,” Grif noted.
“Oh, pish posh, Darling. That battle regalia gave me more ideas than you could possibly imagine. It’s always so much fun when I get to see something from the far east.” Rarity couldn’t stop smiling as she sketched feverishly into a notepad she’d brought with her from the ship.
“Actualy, he stole that armor for a dragon king under the ocean in his home world,” Grif chuckled, “so I don’t know if I’d call it from the far east.”
“It’s certainly similar enough,” Rarity pointed out. “What else should I call it?”
“Divine armor? I mean, technically, it came from a god, and he’s a god, so I guess thats accurate.”
“Hammer Strike, is it just me, or does Grif have a tendency to pull the divine towards him?” Rarity asked.
“I guess that is somewhat true,” Hammer Strike hummed for a second.
“Says the guy who chitchats with death, time, nature, and was it fate now?” Grif asked.
“I mean, they’re only partially divine,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “I have doubts that a divine being is going to just stop by one day to say hi. You have a somewhat reason for at least most of them.”
Vital Spark chuckled. “Glad to hear I’m not the only who calls on Murphy.”
Pensword raised a wing, and dropped it again with a chuckle. “Well, shall we head to dinner?”
The banquet went on pretty late into the night. Aside from peaches, peach wine, peach danties, and peach … soup, there were several types of bread made from rice grown in the lower regions of the island, and wheat grown on a plateau a few miles away. Multiple meat dishes spread out across the food as well. Eventually, Wukong granted Vital Spark’s wish, and recited the entire tale of his adventures with enthusiastic gestures and vivid descriptions. By the time the story ended, Vital and Wukong were the only ones still awake, and the sun was creeping over the horizon.
“Wow.” Vital Spark couldn’t help but say it. After hearing all the things Wukong had done, not to mention the challenges he’d been able to overcome, and how he’d basically been tasked with developing multiple forms of new magic, including going so far as to bring someone back to life from the dead, a type of magic that was deemed to be impossible by mortal standards. “Pardon my French, but you really put up with a lot of crap.”
“Hence why I left,” Wukong nodded as he finished a leftover peach.
“Well, on the plus side, Humanity’s improved at least somewhat from that time. Then again, I guess that depends on who you ask. You could say the monsters and demons of old were just replaced by worse Humans in some cases.” Vital sighed. “I want to be able to go back, but … part of me really wants to stay here in Equis, too. Any advice on how I can decide?”
“Where do you see yourself, if you go back?” Wukong asked.
“Likely working in an office, having connection with my family, maybe going to church, possibly getting married. The world governments were supposed to see me, so I guess there’s that to look forward to. Maybe a few potential assassination attempts, too.” He sighed. “Politics is really complicated.”
“And if you stay?”
“I may never see my family again, but … I’d have sort of a new family here, too. The politics would probably remain the same, but the attempts would likely be different. There’s a whole separate system of religion here for multiple cultures, so that would take some getting used to.” He blushed. “And then there’s the … relationship I’m in at the moment.”
“And which pulls to you more?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks now.” Vital sighed again. “It sucks when you can’t have both.”
“Say you went back. Would you be driven by curiosity? Would you wake up at night wondering what you missed?”
“Pretty sure I would in either case.”
“You’d wake up wondering whats numbers you didn’t crunch, what pencils you didn’t sort?” Wukong chuckled.
“More what happened to my family, and what the knowledge of the existence of Equis would do to the balance of peace between the nations. Will my sisters marry, will I be an uncle, will my family survive well, that sort of thing. Honestly, the only number crunching or pencil pushing would likely be talking with foreign ambassadors who want to funnel requests through to Luna and Celestia.”
“Is there nothing in either world that tips the scales, then? Not by a single grain of sand?”
“... At this point, I’m still not sure.” Vital sighed as he did his best to blink back the tears. “I … suppose it depends on how far things go between me and Trixie. If … if it really gets serious, … then I suppose I would have to stay, no matter the consequences.”
“You shouldn’t think of it that way,” Wukong told him. “That could lead to too much pain.”
“I don’t know how else to think of it, though. No matter what, I’m going to be in pain. No matter what, I have to choose.”
“It would happen sooner or later. Our lives are all about painful choices. If anybody knows that, it should be me. I left my people to learn the secrets of immortality, and came back to find them oppressed by a demon. I left them to go to heaven, not once, but twice. I always thought I didn’t have to make a choice between demons and gods. I was of both, so why couldn’t both respect me? The gods mocked me, the demons mocked me. Then they feared me, because I made a painful choice, and it was the wrong one. Ten-thousand of my people died for my foolishness that day. I chose to trust a goddess’s mercy, and she, too, betrayed me. I trusted in Buddha, and he sent me on a journey to the edge of the known world, and then attempted to charge me for the privilege of his sacred quest. Take it from one who has made a lot of choices. Sometimes, it’s the wounds that seem like they will be deepest that end up the easiest to heal.”
Vital chuckled. “Hope you don’t mind if I say it still sucks, but I get where you’re coming from, too. I guess all I can really do is take things a day at a time, the same way I’ve been doing.”
“You’ll make the right choice in time,” Wukong assured him. “Just remember that your companions on this journey must do what they do, or else none of you may find the end.”
“I didn’t know you had clairvoyance as part of your powers,” Vital said with some surprise. He looked out to the rising sun as it shone on the distant ocean waters. “I suppose it comes with the territory, though, huh?” He sighed. “Beautiful sunrise, isn’t it?”
“It always is.” Wukong chuckled. “You should get some rest.”
Vital shook his head. “Grif’ll be after me any minute to start training again. I can sleep after.”
“I don’t think he will.” Wukong shook his head. “Today will be when I see what your lord is made of. There should be no cause for interruption.”
“And my exercising will do that?”
“Where would you run? You’d have to go down the stairs to reach a ground big enough. That would take all day.”
“Unless he made the stairs the exercise in the first place, I suppose,” Vital mused. Then he yawned. “I guess we’ll find out either way. If you say I should go to sleep, I guess I should.” He smiled then, and looked gratefully at the old Monkey. “Thanks for the talk, Wukong.”
“You’re welcome, my friend.”
When Hammer Strike was ready, Wukong led him to another staircase, and up to a flattened square platform. Monkeys slowly filled the area, followed by Hammer Strike’s friends as people gathered to watch the fight that was about to happen. Wukong waited on his side of the field balancing upside down on the end of his staff, which stood vertically in the air. However, unlike a certain zebra, Wukong didn’t wobble or shift even slightly in place.
“Ex divinia etiam. I have a feeling this is going to end ... poorly,” Hammer Strike muttered.
“It is just a spar, my friend. I’m sure you will be fine,” Wukong assured him.
“Nothing ends the way most expect it to, so I’m curious to know what will change this time,” Hammer Strike commented as he reached into his coat, and pulled out Ulcrusher.
“Very fine weapon you have there.”
“The Dwarves spent over a thousand years working at it. It’s the most resilient weapon I have, besides a smithing hammer.”
“We shall see if it is resilient enough, I guess,” Wukong noted as he jumped to his feet. The staff rose into the air, and flew into his outstretched hand.
“Any additional rules outside of you not killing me?” Hammer Strike asked jokingly.
“Do you honestly believe there is anything you can do that would have lasting damage on me?” Wukong asked.
After a moment, Hammer Strike rubbed the back of his neck. “There is potentially one thing, but I wouldn’t know, unless used, and I’d prefer not to use it.”
“Then I will hold nothing back from you,” Wukong chuckled, gesturing with one hand for Hammer Strike to come.
Hammer Strike charged the Monkey almost instantly, bringing the hammer up as he prepared to attack with all his worth. Wukong, for his part, saw the path of the hammer, and brought his staff up to block. The instant the hammer made contact with the staff, the runes along the handle shone brightly, and the hammer turned white hot. The shockwave of the two weapon colliding sent the Earth Pony flying backwards as well as knocking several Monkeys over, along with Rarity, Trixie, and Pensword.
Wukong looked around, and gaped. “That was slightly more collateral damage than expected.”
“It’ll get much worse, unless you have another arena on the island that’s more resilient,” Hammer Strike responded as he regained his footing.
“Perhaps it would be better to access something less … fragile,” Wukong agreed. The Monkey King strode over to Hammer Strike, picking the Pony up without any visible effort, along with his hammer. He then proceeded to jump, flipping backwards in the process, and the two vanished immediately.
Pensword blinked in surprise. “Wha–?” he muttered. “Did … did I just see what would happen if the immovable object hit an unstoppable force?”
“I don’t think so yet,” Grif noted. “My guess is he took Hammer Strike to the spiritual plane.”
Pensword’s chuckles stopped dead in their tracks. “That … concerns me in many, many ways.”
“Me, too, Pensword. Me, too,” Grif nodded.
For a moment, everything around Hammer Strike blurred. He felt wind in his face, yet it moved so fast that breathing was next to impossible. And then it stopped, and Wukong set him down. The two stood in a vast dark void-like area. Nothingness stretched all around them, save for the occasional flicker of red lighting that seemed to go in no particular direction. The air was cold and dry, and it chilled the Earth Pony to the bone.
Hammer Strike shook his head for a moment, attempting to clear it. “That was … a different experience,” he commented, rubbing the side of his head.
“Welcome to the spirit plane, my friend,” Wukong noted, “or one of them, at least.”
“It certainly feels … odd here,” Hammer Strike commented as he looked around. “I’m pretty certain there won’t be any damage here, though.”
“Pretty hard when there is nothing to damage,” Wukong agreed.
“Yeah,” Hammer Strike replied as he took his position once more, Ulcrusher at the ready as his eyes flashed with thaumic power. “Let’s get down to it, then.”
This time, the fight went slower as the two figures circled one another, looking for possible openings. Still, every time Hammer Strike attacked, he found himself repulsed as Wukong countered blow after blow. Jingu Bang seemed to ping almost teasingly as the hammer bounced off the staff’s body. Worse yet, without the hammer giving to the force, Hammer Strike was forced back instead, resulting in him being sent flying again and again from the repeated blocks.
Hammer Strike huffed as he looked across the field at Wukong. The realization he needed to up the game dawned on him, and quite suddenly, a red thaumic crystal seemed to collate in the air, then vanish as energy surged across the Pony’s form. The air around him began to shimmer from the heat. As he charged forward, the air around him started to combust, flames rising higher and higher as the two forces met. When Ulcrusher landed against the staff with a metallic ring, shockwaves of fire spread outwards into the distance. The flames seemed to do little more than annoy the Monkey King as they washed over him. This time, Wukong struck, landing a single well-placed blow at the Pony’s side, sending Hammer Strike flying without much effort.
“You'll need to try harder,” Wukong taunted.
Hammer Strike almost let out a faint growl as he gave a brief shudder.
Their next clash ended in much the same manner. Despite the air itself combusting from the heat and the metal of the hammer glowing brilliantly, the Monkey King didn’t relent. Instead, he blocked each blow with the cunning accuracy one would expect from a millennia old master, and, much like before, a single blow sent Hammer Strike sprawling.
This time it was a green crystal that proceeded to form and vanish. Hammerstrike bellowed as he brought the hammer into the void-like ground. The reaction was large hammer-shaped stalagmites erupting at Wukong, who proceeded to destroy or dodge them with apparent ease. He slammed the end of his staff into one, then did a backflip, and sent the stone chunk flying back at Hammer Strike, who dodged it just in time.
“The elements? Really? If I was after an easy fight, I wouldn’t have taken you here,” Wukong said with a cheeky grin.
“Fine,” Hammer Strike growled. “You want different? Then I’ll use something different.” A purple crystal flashed in and out of view before him, and his eyes became covered by a purple flame.
“What did that do?” Wukong wondered aloud, before realizing his body felt heavier than usual. He could feel a great weight pulling him down, and an even greater weight on his staff. Meanwhile, Hammer Strike seemed to vanish before him as he charged at incredible speeds, confident in the fact that the huge gravitational mass applying to the Monkey would give him the upper-
Clang
The hammer met the staff again, and again, and again. No matter how much he decresed gravity on himself or increased it on Wukong, the result was the same. The Monkey seemed to ignore the extra burden, and still managed to respond in kind.
“Did you even pay attention to my story? It wasn’t the mountain that kept me impriso–.” Wukong froze, literally froze, as did everything else as a deeper purple crystal appeared and vanished. This time, he felt chains much harder on his limbs as time itself became solid.
Hammer Strike smiled as he charged. There would be nothing to stop him now. The Monkey couldn’t move, so he couldn’t block. This time, Hammer Strike had found a way around his movements. This time, he’d–.
The Monkey King: staff, armor, and all vanished in a puff of smoke as the hammer came down on him. A small red hair floated in midair, waiting patiently to fall to the ground. When Hammer Strike turned to scan for the Monkey in question, he found himself surrounded from every conceivable angle by clones who had most certainly not been present before.
A light red crystal now flashed in and out of existence, only this time the deep purple energy didn’t dissipate as the lighter red came in. It only faded slightly to allow the red energy to mix. At that moment, Hammer Strike’s body glowed brightly as he slammed the hammer forward, dispelling the clones before him with a wave of energy. He could feel the network of energy in front of him. Each staff was identical, but the Monkey’s, well, there had to be one Monkey who would burn brighter than the others. So Hammer Strike battered his way through the clones one after the other, hunting for that brighter light, all the time not realizing as the deep purple energy continued to fade. By the time it faded completely, Hammer Strike had managed to dispel two thirds of the clones, but a third still remained as time regained its normal flow. Soon he found himself swarmed in one of the hardest fights of his life as he dodged and ducked staves, all while delivering blow by blow. This whole time, he’d not noticed as one of the clones’ staves rolled off to the side when it’s user was dispelled. The staff glowed briefly, and then Wukong transformed silently back into himself.
“You like to play that game, huh? Well two can do that,” the Monkey said with a smirk. “Freeze!” he spoke, and suddenly, Hammer Strike found his own body paused as Wukong dispersed his clones, recalling the hairs as he walked up to the frozen figure. He leaned over with two fingers held tightly. “Flick,” he said casually as he broke the spell just as his fingers made contact. Once again, Hammer Strike went flying.
“Games? Games?” Hammer Strike shuddered as a black crystal flashed into existence. After a second, it disappeared, and the darkness seemed to draw into him. “Fine. I’ll play. I’ll play your game!” he yelled out as the thaumic energy vanished, revealing a blacked eye as he gave a faint, twitchy smile.
“Calm down, friend. This doesn’t need to be personal,” Wukong offered.
Hammer Strike’s smile remained. “I want to see how far I can actually push myself.”
Wukong shrugged. “If that is your wish.” He recalled his staff to his hand, and got into position. “Let's see, then.”
This time the two engaged in something much more brutal as staff met hammer. And for the first time, Hammer Strike pushed. The air around him seemed to bleed with darkness as he pressed, the energy giving him strength. Oddly enough, the energy seemed to avoid the hammer. Some force inside the weapon pulsed, pushing the shadows away. Still, Wukong gave ground as the two fought, or at least so it seemed at first, though Hammer Strike began to notice it was far too easy. The Monkey didn’t seem to be trying at all. He let out a growl, ducked a blow, then proceeded to slam the hammer head as hard as he could into Wukong’s side, eliciting a gasp from the king.
Wukong pressed back now, determined to end this quickly. Something was wrong. He could sense something in the darkness grasping at the Pony. “You need to stop using that power,” he warned.
“Why? It’s obvious I finally found something that’ll at least work,” Hammer Strike growled. The light was gone from his eyes, replaced by an empty blackness.
“Not as well as you think,” Wukong answered. In the fight that followed, Hammer Strike proceeded to find out why as the Monkey king held back a lot less. He rained down powerful blows, attempting to force the Pony back. And seemingly, he was successful.
Flames erupted from Hammer Strike’s body, only these flames where different, older, more sinister. They bit at Wukong and the staff with each contact, yet they seemed to do little more than base damage. Nonetheless, Wukong could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck. There was definitely something more dangerous at work here.
“What's happened to you?” the Monkey King pressed. “You’ve been changed, corrupted.”
“I’ve always been this way,” Hammer Strike responded. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind, that burning question of why I bother.”
“I highly doubt that's true,” Wukong growled as he pushed. “Your friends trust you too much.”
“Then perhaps their trust is misplaced,” Hammer Strike grunted.
“Or maybe you're being controlled by something,” Wukong retorted. “Something is grabbing onto your soul, and trying to twist it.”
“You believe the same thing as they do, but you’re just as wrong.”
“Beware to whom you speak, child,” Wukong growled, flipping Hammer Strike over with his staff. “I have lived far more lifetimes, and seen evils far greater than what you can possibly imagine.”
“Yet as old as you are, and as much as you’ve experienced, you fail to grasp some ideas that you either ignored or never learned about. Despite how the Primal clings to every fiber of your being, you fail to use it, to acknowledge it even.”
“I don’t know what this Primal is,” Wukong admitted, “but Heaven and Earth exist in me. And with them, I have been to the farthest pits of hell and the greatest heights of heaven. I have seen evils the like of which no one has ever understood. Don’t presume where I am ignorant and where I am wise.”
“Imagine if you knew,” Hammer Strike chuckled as he righted himself.
“Enlighten me,” Wukong sneered.
“Why would I? You’re clearly strong enough as it is. Why would I bother teaching you about it?”
“Because something is attacking you,” Wukong stated as his eyes erupted in fire.
“Who cares? What if I want to be like this, to finally stop caring about how everyone sees me, to finally stop holding back, to finally do whatever I want to do?” Hammer Strike roared as the thaumic flames grew around him.
“I once thought like you,” Wukong said sadly. “Back then, I was a stupid, selfish Monkey. I made mistakes I will never be able to forget.” He braced himself as he raised his staff into a combative stance. “But I won’t let you follow in my footsteps.”
“I’ve already done things I regret, yet no matter hard I try, those memories resurface. They’re brought back by spells. Nobody will let me forget,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “They rely on me so much. Always into the fire, with little time for myself.”
“They follow you. That’s more than many can ask for,” Wukong retorted.
“But do I need them?” Hammer Strike’s smile grew. “They’re not willing to go far enough, but to be honest, I don’t want to teach them further.”
“You contradict yourself so openly. They don’t want to push further. You don’t want to lead them further. Pick a side, and stay with it!”
Hammer Strike rolled his eyes, giving a faint grunt. “Again, I ask, why bother?”
“Because what else is there?” Wukong pressed. “Power? Power fades eventually. Glory? Glory is the fantasy of old men. Riches? Money is a temporary, finite thing. Bonds, my young friend, are what make life worth it.”
“Why bother with bonds that will be destroyed when I die?” Hammer Strike gave a faint twitch. “I’ve seen the time of my death. Despite his fear, I am to fall. It’s not too far off either, but with the constant fluctuation of time, who knows how long it’ll be till I run face first into it?”
“You act as though death is the worst that can happen to you,” Wukong scoffed.
“It is when there’ll be nothing left of me afterwards,” Hammer Strike chuckled. “I doubt my own soul could manage to survive after it all.”
“You underestimate the strength of your soul, and the strength of bonds which can tie your memory to the world,” Wukong said. “But it matters not. I’ve let this go for too long. It’s time I return you to who you should be.”
“You have no idea of thaumaturgy, yet you believe you can fix it?” Hammer Strike started to chuckle, before it turned to distorted laughter. “They killed me when they tried it before. You think you could do better with no knowledge?”
“I don’t think. I know,” Wukong stated. And with that, he made his move. In a burst of speed, he shrunk the staff in his hands, and jammed it into Hammer Strike’s mouth, forcing it open, before he vanished in a puff of smoke, and something small, round, and black lodged itself in the Pony’s throat. The energy in his body was suddenly and rapidly being leeched from him.
Hammer Strike flailed and raged as he felt the energy dissipate. But the more he struggled, the more tired he felt, until his motion ebbed. He felt the energy being removed from his body, and along with it came flares of pain as his body attempted to compensate for the first time in a long time for the injuries that were once held at bay by his thaumic field.
Then, quite suddenly, energy began flowing back into him, but this energy was not tainted by the dark aspect. His throat caught, and he found himself coughing as a small black pill was ejected from his throat.
Hammer Strike sighed as he brought a hoof up to his head. While the energy being pushed back into him was more pure in nature, it was raw in formation, and was slowly being bent back into his field accordingly.
“How do you feel?” a familiar voice asked.
“Better, thank you,” Hammer Strike commented. “I’m … sorry for that. I didn’t notice how close to the void we were.”
“This void you speak of. I’m guessing it’s a realm where evil beings of power live?” Wukong asked.
“It’s a location between realities, between the worlds,” Hammer Strike replied as he continued to rub the side of his head. “With it comes an immeasurable amount of energy that, when claimed, turns the user … unnatural.”
“I think I’ve seen it before. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“My body aches a bit. When you removed the energy from me, my thaumic field weakened, and the parts it was holding together began to fall apart. That extra energy you gave me should help stabilize things again. I’ll live,” Hammer Strike said as he reached into his coat, and began searching. “I might be able to do something about it,” he said, pulling out a red crystal.
“That's not going to leave us back where we started, is it?” Wukong asked warily.
“No, no,” Hammer Strike quickly responded. “These crystals are aspects, or forces and substances of reality. Fire, Earth, Gravity, Time, Energy, … Dark.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “By that point, I had fully lost control of myself.”
So these aspects are in everything? Then what would you say my aspect is?” Wukong asked as he returned his staff to its place behind his ear. The battle was over, after all.
“The closest I could believe would be–.” Hammer Strike’s eyes flashed with blue fire, then returned to normal. He began blinking rapidly as he rubbed his eyes. “Wow. Yeah, Primal energy. I don’t want to go blind by trying that again.”
Wukong laughed. “It’s funny. When I hatched from my stone egg, my fur originally shone with a bright golden light that could apparently be seen from Heaven.”
“Primal energy, most likely. From what I can tell, it’s basically the essence of the gods.” Hammer Strike shrugged as the crystal in his hooves began shrinking, drawing into himself as bruises lessened.
“Divine energy? But then that would mean I was already divine at birth,” Wukong said as he slowly pieced things together. “I spent several hundred years chasing immortality for nothing?” he asked, bewildered.
“Not sure. Primal energy can be minor or major. But if it was bright enough to reach the heavens, then it certainly wasn’t minor.” Hammer Strike sighed as the crystal vanished. “I need to keep this in mind. Slow as it is, it works.”
“And what would this energy do to you?” Wukong asked.
“Primal energy? I don’t know for certain. I know that if I were to fully infuse myself with it, I could ascend to a sort of … divine-like being? I think.”
“Well then, perhaps we shall talk more on this later. Let’s return to our world,” Wukong said as he picked the Pony up, and backflipped out of the plane the same way they’d come in.
Baron Blueblood sat in his opulent office, surrounded by display cases filled with ancient artifacts, gems, necklaces, horn rings, pendants tied to famous rulers or Unicorns, along with a few family heirlooms. He frowned as he looked at a bookcase. It seemed out of sorts surrounded by so many display cases and artifacts. The shelves were filled with thick tomes recording the history of House Blueblood, several volumes of Unicorn history, and many financial records. He glared at the shelves as memories from the day he took over the office from his father played through his mind. Back then, it had been a drum that stood there. He’d donated it to the local museum for a tax credit, and that was when he discovered what lay behind.
That onerous carving of a dreamcatcher had been there for generations. No magic could erase it, and no mason could destroy it. It was irrefutable evidence of their family’s black history, evidence that refused to be destroyed. As such, he’d ordered the whole room covered in wallpaper, and then added the bookcase for extra measure to ensure none would discover the secret.
He picked up a thick scroll, and his frown deepened. The first reports from his holdings, business ventures, wealth from his own authority to tax the Ponies on his lands, and finally the interest from his bank accounts had come in for the first time since “returning” his lands to that Pegasus pretender. He unfurled it slowly, and his eyes narrowed. He did not like what he saw.
The cushion from the extra stewardship was gone for the first time since they had joined the Hurricanes in managing the ancient wealth. The family profit margin had shrunk to a mere five-hundred thousand bits. For one such as he, that left much to be desired. He knew times would be tight, but this was positively ridiculous. One lost shipment, one rogue storm, one debt call too early, and the family would drop into the red. He would have to rely on…. He shuddered at the thought of peddling their silver and furniture accents to make ends meet. No. That was not to be abided. And yet … he may have little choice. His gaze lingered over the items in the cases, and he sighed. It would hurt, but if it was necessary, he would donate something to offset some of his own taxes to the Crown. Celestia was always looking for new artifacts to add to her collection. He paused as his eyes lingered on a glass case filled with daggers that had been mounted to the wall. The family dagger collection was the least loved of their heirlooms. If worse came to worst, he would donate that first.
He shook his head rapidly. It would not do to dwell on such things, not when he had bigger problems to worry about. He had to figure out a way to hinder the interloper and his filthy little bats. Filly De Ys was off limits. Princess Luna would protect her precious Thestrals to the death, and that was to be the seat of her power. However….
A vicious smile soon replaced his frown as he pulled a fresh piece of parchment from a drawer, and began to write. If he couldn’t have the money, then neither would Pensword and his ilk. He chuckled darkly to himself. “After all, a military needs a strong base.” He finished jotting the note down, then took another parchment, and began scrawling feverishly. Half an hour later, the letter was finally complete.
“Storm!” he called. He soon heard the distant footfalls. A moment later, an effeminate Dragon with yellow scales and a wide pair of wings folded at her sides entered, and bowed to the lord.
“You summoned me, Lord Blueblood?”
Blueblood levitated the scroll to her in his magic. “This is to be delivered to my accountant. I need a meeting tomorrow, so we can go over my books fully. We are beginning to see the full effect of the impact of the loss of our protectorate.”
The Dragoness nodded her head, released a gout of yellow fire to consume the scroll, leaving behind a golden soot that sparkled as it flowed out of the room. “Will there be anything else, m’lord?” she asked.
Blueblood waved dismissively at her, not even deigning to reply. The Dragon scowled, but held her tongue as she left the room. Blueblood paid her no mind as he lifted the extra scrolls in his magic, and took them to a second bookcase with an empty shelf. He put them into the case alongside their brothers, then turned to pull a tag from his desk, labeled it with the year and date, and placed it on the ribbon binding the newest addition in a long line of monetary estimates and reports. He channeled his magic into his horn, then tapped a gem on the side of the container. The scrolls shimmered and wavered like a mirage, then solidified into the image of heavy reference books. After taking his time to examine the full extent of the illusion charm, he nodded, then turned to trot back to his desk, before sitting in his plush high-back chair to wait.
Five minutes later, Blueblood heard the familiar four knocks indicating his butler’s arrival with a guest. The door opened, and Blueblood donned a mask of joviality as the elderly stallion motioned for the guest to enter.
“Ah, Count Facet. I hope you’re well. Tell me, what have you found out?”
Count Facet grinned nervously as he scanned the room. “Well, uh, Duke Chivalry has been seen boarding a train with plans to travel to Filly De Ys, followed by a brief stop at New Unity on his way back. Those of our … shared perspective have written him off for any chance of reconciliation, let alone cowing. We’ve lost our bargaining chip with his foals in New Unity. He sees himself having nothing more to lose.” Facet shuffled his hooves as he tried keep his sweat from showing. “It … appears that, like it or not, we now have a Thestral spy in the Solar Court.”
“That may be true;” Blueblood replied, “however, my dear Count, we have good news. You see, Counts Ruby, Topaz, and Monocle, with Baron Polish and Duchess Silk have all agreed to join our faction. It seems they don’t want some of their more … sensitive secrets getting out.”
“That ... that is good to hear,” Facet replied as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “T–thank you for helping me repair my reputation from the–” he cleared his throat “–debacle.”
“Think nothing of it,” Blueblood said easily. “Now, if only we could get the Shield family or some of the–” he nearly gagged “–new higher-ups on our side. We’ve already written off the Sparkle faction. They’ll vote together, meaning they will side with the Friendship Court, and Princess Twilight is in full agreement on integration and remilitarization.”
Facet sighed, then steeled himself. “Unfortunately, we still have a problem. According to current straw pollings some of my contacts in the papers have done, the support for Luna’s bill has been rising steadily. She’s made very good use of logos in her arguments, while appealing to the masses with the focus on past failures in our current military to defend Equestria.” He paused to swallow. “As things stand now, the public is swaying into Luna’s camp. We stand at 49% for and 49% against. The remainder are undecided.”
Blueblood’s left eye twitched. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I want you to get your best suit. You and I are going out. Duchess and Duke Sparkle are throwing a party at Duke Fancy Pants’ home to celebrate their new ‘standing.’ With the holdings Celestia has given them, we have a lot of damage control to take care of.”
The two old blooded Unicorns both scowled. Due to recent events, two duchies had been stripped from some of the older houses, and given to Fancy Pants to manage. If that weren’t bad enough, one of their staunchest allies’ lands had been confiscated and placed squarely in the hooves of the Sparkle clan. The Dutchy of Canterlot Hills now belonged to those miserable self righteous purple ingrates, and with it, all the hills surrounding Celestia’s Horn. Blueblood sighed as he allowed himself to think of the mighty mountain and the ornate palace that had been built upon it. True, the mountain had a different name on the more official records, but every noble Unicorn knew its real name.
Unfortunately, with this loss, Celestia had successfully transferred all authority over the precious metals and gemstones in the markets to the Sparkles as well. They wouldn’t be able to count on Penny Pincher to add to their sluice funds anymore with Night Light overseeing bit production. And worse yet, unless they could find a way to ruin the family’s name, the Sparkles would retain that authority for generations to come. For the first time in over two hundred years, House Blueblood wouldn’t have a say over who would be in charge of currency manufacture. It made Blueblood sick.
“Well,” Facet finally spoke, breaking through the pall that had settled over the room, “I heard a rumor. You see, Twilight Velvet was seen leaving Canterlot Castle, most likely after a meeting with the princesses. That was just a little over two months ago. Our spies have kept close watch on her, and based on changes in behavior and general bearing, we have strong reason to believe she’s with foal. If our intelligence is correct, then the purpose of this garden party may be to announce the fact that a new heir is about to be born into their home. That should prevent the Duchy from falling into Princess Twilight’s hooves, leaving jurisdiction within the Solar Court instead.”
Blueblood gaped. “You’re suggesting that the princesses used something to give Dutchess Velvet the ability to conceive at her age? In the middle of winter?” He smriked. “Oh, this is interesting news, indeed. There may be hope yet for our cause, should this prove true. Thank you, Facet.” He lit his horn, and an audible click filled the room as he unlocked a drawer in his desk, and withdrew a plain notebook, a quill, and an inkwell. “With news like that, you can kiss a thousand bits of your debt goodbye.”
Facet’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Th-thank you, Sir.”
Blueblood waved his hoof magnanimously. “Nonsense. You deserve it after showing such dedication.” Internally, he seethed that his own spies hadn’t caught wind of this sooner, but at least it proved that Facet could very well prove to be an asset in his own right. Besides, if Facet were the one caught spying, then Blueblood would remain in the clear. He smiled. “I think we have a party to get ready for, don’t we?” He raised his muzzle, and cried, “Silent Jacket!”
The butler appeared almost immediately at Count Facet’s side, causing the Unicorn to jump in shock. Good. That was exactly the reaction Blueblood wanted.
“Can you please escort Count Facet to my personal tailor? He deserves something special to wear to the party. Take him to Stitch Savor for a proper fitting. I only get the finest for my friends.”
Silent Jacket nodded meekly. “Of course, Sir. It would be my pleasure.”
When the pair had left, Blueblood finally let the mask drop as a malevolent sneer dawned on his face, and he let his laughter go.
“Well,” Pensword began, “this is lasting longer than I had first thought. Based on the fight you two had, I figured Wukong would have beaten him by now. Then again, they could be chatting about, well, whatever they would talk about to bond over.”
Grif shook his head. “It’s lasting too long. I know Wukong likes to play around, but this seems excessive.”
“Is there a time differential between the spiritual plane and this one?” Vital asked. “If so, that could explain the reason why it’s taking so long.”
And then they appeared, landing from the sky, even though they hadn’t been above them a minute ago. The group was surprised to actually see Hammer Strike stagger as Wukong set him down.
“Is everything all right?” Vital asked as he looked over to the Earth Pony lord. “What happened?”
“We fought, and I’m worn down,” Hammer Strike replied as he sat down and brought a hoof up to rub the side of his head.
“Did you have fun?” Pensword asked.
“It was … an interesting fight, to say the least,” Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’m not dead. He’s uninjured.”
“And they all lived happily ever after?” Vital ventured.
Hammer Strike rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think Rarity would like that,” Pensword quipped.
“And why wouldn’t she like living happily ever after?” Vital shot back with a hint of a smirk.
“Well, the way you spoke, it could be construed that Hammer Strike and Wukong would be the ones having the ending,” Pensword teased.
“Ah, but without the portion clarifying that, it’s completely open ended, just the way most people like it.” Vital smiled as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Is he simple?” Wukong asked Hammer Strike.
“Don’t ask me. We often wonder.”
“Why is it everyone who’s older than a hundred calls me simple?” Vital lamented.
“You really want that question answered?” Grif asked.
Pensword just smirked, before breaking up into a giggling fit.
“... Shut up,” Vital muttered as he scuffed his hoof against the ground.
“Sorry for the wait. We got a bit carried away,” Wukong offered to the group, locking eyes only momentarily with the Gryphon. “I think your lord will need to rest for a while. Perhaps later you can show me how you are coming along, brother?”
“Sure.” Grif nodded. “I’ve got some new tricks.”
“A quote about old dogs comes to mind,” Vital said with a wink.
“Is it they put stupid puppies in their places?” Grif asked, buffeting him with a wing, but chuckling, even as Pensword’s giggling intensified.
“At least this puppy has some fangs,” Vital chuckled. “And he’s learning how to use them.”
“Yeah. Maybe, if I stand really still, you’ll be able to nibble my leg off in a few hundred years.” Grif winked at Pensword, who was starting to lose a few breaths at how much he was laughing.
Lunar Fang couldn’t help but smile, while Fox Feather looked on in confusion.
“Is he all right?”
“Oh, he’s fine,” Lunar Fang assured her. “Before the war, he’d do this at least once a day, if not more. You should have seen him on his first cloud walk. It tickled his hooves so much, he couldn’t help but fall over and laugh.”
“You should see him when I pontificate,” Vital added. “It’s a killer.”
Pensword fell forward, slamming his hoof against the ground as he laughed. “Why,” he gasped out, “do you think,” he let out another bout of giggles, “I stay so thin?”
“I’ve got a ton of ‘em.” Vital smirked. “A skele-ton.”
Pensword rolled helplessly on his back, while Grif and the others noticed that Hammer Strike and Wukong were missing.
“Did Hammer Strike go off to the hotsprings without me?” Rarity gasped. “I simply must catch up with him. Ta-ta, everypony!” She waved as she raced off into the distance in search of her husband.
“Well, I guess the hotsprings are out for the next while. I think it’s about time for naps anyway,” Grif said as he looked to Shrial. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, the girls might object, but I’m pretty sure Avalon would be glad of the company,” Shrial pointed out.
Lunar Fang smirked as she looked to Fox Feather. “A nice idea. Nap time sounds like a good way to calm him down. Otherwise, he’ll be giggling all night tonight.”
Fox Feather grinned. “Oh, I think I can come up with something to help.”
Night Terror grumbled as she opened her eyes. Sleep fogged her brain as she wondered why something was rubbing a feather duster under her nose. She sneezed, looked up, and her mind snapped into full gear as she whacked the Pegasus hard with her wings.
“What are you doing in here?” she yelled.
“Waking you, noble butt,” Lightning Dust laughed. “Your training for combat needs to be rounded, so….” She leaned forward, after getting to her hooves, “you’ll be training with the Demon Slayers today.”
Night Terror’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Well, you did say you might have some hired knives after you, and those in charge of your teaching feel you should be a little more on your guard. As such, you’ll be spending the day with us today to further your training.”
“Oh? And what would Ponies from a thousand years ago, and one that almost killed the Princess and her friends, know about hired knives?”
Sergeant Dust glared at the Thestral. “We all have demons to face, little miss nameless.”
“How dare–.”
“How dare I? As you so casually pointed out, I dare a lot. I had nothing to lose as a Private. Did you know that I expected to be thrown into jail, maybe even worse? These Ponies could’ve, you know, and they would’ve been within their rights to let me rot. But instead of that, they looked at what I could be, if I decided to change, and they gave me a chance.
“It was hard, but I worked, and worked, and worked, until I made my way. And rather than beating me down, they cared for me, even after my mistake. If they care for a Pony that messed up that badly, they sure as Faust can care about some little noble Pony who’s scared for her life. They certainly will love you better than a family that won’t even let you have a proper inheritance, let alone acknowledge that fact that you exist.” She looked down calmly at the filly. “So, yes, I dare. I dare to bring up hard memories. I dare to push you to move past yourself. I dare to push you to be a stronger mare than you already are. If there's one thing I know about Pegasi and Thestrals, it’s that we both yearn to be free, to master of our own destinies. So the question is, are you going to master yours or let someone else decide it for you?” She chuckled as she nudged the foal again with a green hoof. “So come on. Daylight’s burning. It’s time to get you some armor fit for that noble flank of yours.”
“How–?” Night Terror began.
“Look, Night Terror. We can run in circles over this all day, but we really should get going. Your fitting starts in five minutes, and I don’t want to be late.”
“What about breakfast?” Night Terror whined as the Pegasus began to push her towards the door. “And stop pushing me!”
“Oh, if you were a Private, we’d have done worse then push thee out the door.”
“You used thee.” Night Terror latched on the words in hopes of producing a distraction.
“You spend almost a year with Ponies from another time, you pick up a few of their speech patterns. You should try it some time, m’lady.” Lightning Dust fixed her with a cheeky grin as she bowed mockingly.
Night Terror’s mind crashed. She had never been called a lady before. Not once. She blushed. Even if it was meant in jest, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at being publicly acknowledged as a noble for once.
“There we go. Moving right along. It gets easier, once your body starts moving. Just takes a bit for the blood to pump in.”
Night Terror’s expression dropped as she realized the sound of her hooves echoing along the corridors of the compound. That conniving, double crossing little…. Just who did this Pony think she was, her nanny?
Eventually, the pair arrived at a pair of stout wooden doors surrounded by a stone arch. Lightning Dust grinned as she knocked on the doors three times, then pushed them open to reveal the light of scorching flames and glowing metal. The hot air blew out in a rush, slamming into the Thestral’s face like a pillow.
Night Terror’s eyes widened as she took in the twisted remnants of armor, the positively gigantic swords, the cruel maces and morning stars, battle axes, and much more. The desiccated remains of fruits and vegetables littered the floor, a gruesome testament to the efficiency of the weapons. “You … you want me. In there?” she asked hoarsely. “It looks like a torture chamber.”
“Oh, if Hammer Strike could hear you say that,” a boisterous voice laughed as the imposing shadow of a burly Unicorn fell over the foal. A flash of light from an extra shovelful of coal in the fires illuminated Steel Weaver’s face as she smiled down at the filly. “I’d say he’d make this ten times worse for you. He tends to make most Ponies feel that way when they meet him for some reason.” She chuckled good-naturedly. “Relax, little one. This is just a normal fitting.” The Unicorn’s horn lit up, and a thick roll of measuring tape floated over to her side. “Now.” She lowered her head, and the shadows raced along her muzzle, turning a friendly smile into a downright malicious grin. “Come into my lair.”
Night Terror felt struck by her namesake once more as Lighting Dust shoved her into the room, before using her hind legs to buck the doors shut with a tone of dreadful finality as the shock wave washed over their ears.
“Excellent. Now–” the measuring tape snapped as Steal Weaver drew it taut in her hooves, and Night Terror let out a whimper. “–Let’s get to work.”
Pensword landed at one of the ledges to watch the waves and just enjoy the afternoon, until his ear twitched. “I hear you, Vital. How ... how are you doing?” He chuckled nervously. Sorry if I took things too far today with the teasing. Different world, different upbringing.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised you’re even awake, Pensword. I thought you’d switched over to the nocturnal schedule for the most part,” Vital pointed out. “As for the teasing … well, I won’t hold it against you. At least not yet,” he added with a playful chuckle.
Pensword shrugged. “I got up early to see the fight. The sun is setting behind us as we speak. Doesn’t help that most of the official stuff needs to be done during the day. Like Lunar Fang said, it’s amazing I get any sleep in the first place, especially being from two worlds.”
“Might have to make that three. After all, you do have contact with the spiritual plane,” Vital mused as he tapped his chin with a hoof.
“And the dead don’t sleep,” Pensword responded with a sad smile.
Vital Spark smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t you ever talk like that again, mister. Especially not around your wife. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. If you did, I’d have expect Moon River to pop in, and pull you back.”
“I have no plans to go anywhere, Vital Spark, but I’m not joking. The dead don’t sleep. They don’t get tired. It’s like being at your most awake moments in life forever. Perfect memory, perfect knowledge.” He rubbed his head gingerly. “Also, nice shot. You’re getting stronger.”
Vital blushed, then chuckled nervously. “Sorry. Just … last time I heard someone talking like that, they were considering … well, you can guess.”
“Vital, I speak to the dead. That doesn’t mean I want to join them. It just so happens that one’s humor changes when one can see the next step a little.”
“All due respect, buddy, that was kind of morbid for humor. I’m all for the other side, but life is a bit too precious a time, in my opinion. Joke or no, comparing yourself to the dead like that tends to imply some rather unpleasant notions.” Vital sighed, then broke into a gentle smile. “Either that, or I’m just being a paranoid simpleton.”
“Paranoid simpleton,” Pensword stated affirmatively. “I thought you were asking about sleep for the dead, and I answered you.”
Vital winced. “Welp, guess I live and learn.”
“Indeed. Mistakes that don’t kill you will make you stronger, and/or stranger,” Pensword replied with a laugh.
“It’s Equis, Pensword. Of course we’re going to be stranger.”
Pensword smiled. “And another lesson learned. We’ll make a proper Pony of you yet, Vital.”
Grif and Wukong stood alone in the deserted arena. Wukong had seen that provisions were sent for, and then he had the arena soundproofed and blocked off. Glowing symbols covered the entire area around the arena, as well as anywhere else within earshot. The two sat there on the flat ground. If any passed by, they’d likely see the two sparring. Slowly, Wukong told the story of what had happened between him and Hammer Strike on the spiritual plane. For his part, Grif tried to fill in what he knew, which sadly wasn’t much more than what Wukong had been told.
“So you can wield this power, too?” Wukong asked.
“In a much more limited sense, yes.” Grif nodded as he took a drink from one of the jars they’d brought for the talk. “My power is more attributed to wind and increasing my speed, as you may have noticed last time we fought.”
“Indeed. That does explain a few things.” Wukong nodded sagely as he took a sip from his own jar.
“When you journeyed, did you ever get scared? I mean, not for yourself, of course, but for Pigsy or Sandy or Tripitaka. Did you ever get scared of falling back to the fury of the past?”
“I was young and foolish, with more power than the gods themselves,” Wukong said in a mock-insulted tone. “I was terrified. But if you read any piece of that story, you know those helpless fools wouldn’t have made it far without me. Sometimes you are hungry and broke, and the road seems long, and the gods are unjust. It’s those times that we need to choose what we are at the core. Do you chip and crumble, like chalk, or do you press onward undaunted, like stone?”
Grif laughed. “You would use a metaphor like that.” He sighed. “Sometimes I worry, though. This grand adventure is going to get people killed. I don’t want to be an old Gryphon whose friends all died, while I stick around to tell their stories.”
“That's a reasonable fear to have,” Wukong admitted, “but I think you need to remember your friends are much more competent than mine were. They can take care of themselves. And yes, while things can happen, would you want them to simply vanish to history?”
“No!” Grif blurted out immediately.
“Then far better you are around to do them justice,” Wukong laughed.
“I … never really thought of it that way.”
“Sometimes you need someone who’s been there,” Wukong said. “But enough of this. I have something for you.” The Monkey waved his hand, and produced a small jade box. The front had been segmented into slidable squares. “Inside this puzzle box is a treasure my people found. When you finish the puzzle, what's inside belongs to you.”
Grif took the box gingerly. “Why would you give this to me?”
“Because you have freed me, brother. Now, when you open this box, you free yourself.” Wukong chuckled as he gave the Gryphon a kindly smile. “I’ll get some more wine.” He got to his feet, and left, leaving Grif to stare contemplatively at the box.
Wukong sat beside Hammer Strike’s bed, sipping a cup of his own peach blossom tea. “So this primal energy is the force from which gods are created?” the Monkey asked, not for the first time.
“In a way, yes,” Hammer Strike nodded. “There are other beings created through the Primal, but most are divine-like beings.”
“Sounds like a power most would enjoy having in a crisis.”
“I’d suspect most divine enjoy the power when the time comes,” Hammer Strike shrugged.
“Would you require some of this power?”
“I can’t make the Primal.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “The creation process is … risky.”
“I have enough of this power for five divines. It would not harm me to donate some,” Wukong said simply as he took another sip from his tea cup.
Hammer Strike looked uncertain. “I don’t even know what the Primal would do to me in the first place. It would be useful, but the potential risk makes me nervous, especially since I don’t know if it will alter my mind the way the other aspect did.”
“We are farther from the void now, more than ever. And I am here to deal with any trouble,” Wukong argued.
Hammer Strike placed a hoof on the back of his neck, a faint twitch occurring in the process. After a few more minutes, he nodded. “You’d be able to contain it, if something went wrong. Perhaps we should do it at the arena. It’d be open, and out of the way.”
“You're still exhausted. This place will be fine,” Wukong countered.
“It should be somewhere more open, especially with so many unknowns.”
Wukong sighed. “Very well. I will carry you,” he said as he got to his feet.
“I mean, I can still walk,” Hammer Strike frowned.
“That may be true, but you are very wobbly. It will not be an issue for me, and it will be safer for both of us,” Wukong noted as he hefted the Earth Pony up.
“Yeah, but....” Hammer Strike sighed. “There’s no point in having this discussion further, is there?”
Wukong chuckled as he slid the screen door open. “And at last he understands.”
“Hey, Wukong,” Vital said casually as he walked up to the door. “There a reason you’ve got Hammer Strike on your shoulders like that?”
“Because I don’t think he’s stable enough to walk long distances on his own.” The Monkey shrugged. Hammer Strike responded with a deeper frown.
Pensword paused in midair, a cocky grin on his muzzle. “Finally, somepon–someone strong enough to carry Hammer Strike. I am so going to enjoy this,” Pensword finished as he followed in the air.
Wukong kept on his path towards the arena, arriving not too long after. He set Hammer Strike down carefully near the center. “So how do we do this?”
“You sit still, and I try to ensure the Primal doesn’t expand and attempt to consume the immediate environment,” Hammer Strike replied as he cracked his neck.
Pensword tilted his head. “Hold on a minute. What is the Primal? Is it something bad? Wait. Is it connected to thaumaturgy?” He screeched to halt, which was quite a feat, given he was in the air at the time. “You told him about that?”
“I had to explain some of the stuff that happened in the fight,” Hammer Strike explained. “Wukong was curious as to what the Primal would do to me. With him being primarily formed and joined with an immeasurable amount, he offered for me to try using some. It won’t be an infusion, more along the lines of me holding onto, and trying to use, the energy.”
“It would probably be best if you watched from a distance,” Wukong advised.
Pensword flew up higher into the sky, and brought a cloud down to an appropriate level, before screeching to a halt. “This good?” he asked.
“... Why do I get the feeling this isn’t going to end well?” Vital sighed as he backed away from the arena. “How far do you want me to go?” he called.
“That should be fine.” Wukong waved his arms around, and calligraphy covered the edges of the arena. “There. Now we can begin.”
Hammer Strike nodded. “This may feel … odd to you.” He sighed as blue fire began to surround his hooves. It traveled up his body, spreading until he was completely surrounded. A small ball of light began to form between the two figures, gaining size and intensity as each second passed. After a full minute of this process, the light had become bright enough to cause the spectators to have to squint. Finally, the light began to draw itself into Hammer Strike. As it did so, his coat began to shine, gaining the same light the more he took in.
A sudden flash left little choice to the spectators as they shielded their faces to prevent blindness. When the light had settled, Pensword blinked back the spots. “Hammer Strike,” he growled, “that was way–.” He broke off, and rubbed his eyes, blinking once again, before staring back at the Pony lord. “Okay. That … can’t be.” His jaw dropped.
“... After everything else you’ve witnessed here in Equestria, Pensword, I’m not so sure you have the right to say that anymore. That being said … dang.” Vital whistled as he peered into the space.
There in the arena’s heart, Hammer Strike stood tall, much taller than normal. His features remained mostly the same: blue eyes, the scars, the missing ear tip. What stood out most was the fact he now had a horn and a pair of wings. He shuddered as he closed his eyes, and placed a hoof to his head. Even from that distance, a Pony could wager Hammer Strike was taller than Celestia.
“You … uh, looks like your coat grew with you.” Pensword chuckled nervously as he gazed on. “Can ... can we come down now?” He looked over to Vital. “And Vital, do us a favor. Go get Grif. NOW!”
Vital Spark winced. “Pensword, I know you’re worried about Hammer Strike here, but yelling at me isn’t exactly helpful. I don’t even know where Grif is.”
“Yeah, and out of the three of us, Grif knows best for what to do here,” Pensword snapped back.
“Pensword, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but chill out. This is probably way above Grif’s abilities anyways. Hammer Strike’s the only one who can manage this. Just have faith that he can handle it. Besides, Wukong’s a lot more qualified than Grif is. If he says he can handle anything that goes wrong, he can.”
“We can both hear you, you know,” Wukong responded as he concentrated on his spells.
Pensword snapped his muzzle shut. His body shook as he struggled to control his breathing. Too many chaotic emotions were warring for dominance.
“Sorry,” Hammer Strike said after a moment. “I ... don’t feel quite right,” he finished, shaking his head. He opened his eyes slowly, then took a look around the arena. His eyes lingered over the empty spaces between his friends and Wukong’s Monkeys.
“Not right as in not healthy, or not right as in just kinda weird?” Vital asked.
“Disoriented,” he replied, then sighed. “Just holding onto the power is enough to cause some … distortion. I can’t tell for certain.” He looked to himself, noticing his changes for what seemed to be the first time.
When the new Alicorn looked up, the arena was positively filled. Beings of all different races and descriptions were gathered around him. He could notice a few familiar faces, though. Death brooded near the back. Fate glared at him ominously. Chance bounced happily between Mother Nature and Father Time. But others, he had no clue on. They observed him with looks of curiosity, rage, malevolence, benevolence, and even lust. Out of all of them, however, one near the back stood out.
He was a large stallion, larger than Celestia or any other Pony or Horse Hammer Strike could think of. His coat was a metallic gray that shone like freshly polished steel. His mane shone like streaks of pure gold and bronze against the sun. Powerful wings were locked at his sides, while a long spiraling horn hung off his forehead. But it was his legs that caught Hammer Strike’s attention most. Eight legs in total lay where a Pony normally had four. Hammer Strike only saw him for a moment. He wasn’t sure how he managed to take in so much detail, but when he blinked, the stallion was gone.
“Every one of them feel it,” Hammer Strike commented as he shifted his eyes to the other figures. “The Primal.” He let loose a quiet chuckle that broke off into a ragged cough as a look of pain crossed his face.
Slowly, the embodiments began to vanish from his vision. Some acknowledged him with nods or other gestures of respect. At least one saluted him with a sword. Two mares who reminded him of luck’s own intangible form blew him a kiss, and gave him a wink, before vanishing.
“Now you be careful with that, Son. It’s not a toy,” Father Time advised as he faded from view.
“Momma wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. And remember to eat better,” Mother Nature commented as she left.
“See you soon!” Chance giggled happily, and then was gone.
Soon all the embodiments had vanished, save one, a taller gaunt Earth Pony. His coat was a pale gray, and his mane and tail were pitch-black, as were his eyes. He wore an old black duster that looked ancient, but well cared for. For some reason, seeing the Pony made Hammer Strike feel cold, forlorn, and sad. The stallion offered Hammer Strike a nod of his own, before turning, and vanishing in a black mist.
“Hammer Strike?” Grif’s voice swam into focus as the Gryphon attempted to get the stallion’s attention.
“Huh?” Hammer Strike shook his head as he focused on his vassal. After a moment, he looked to the others to realise they were all staring in concern. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t hear you. I could barely make out a few voices with everything I can see and hear right now. We were almost surrounded by them: the embodiments, spirits, others even. It’s difficult to focus.”
“Even with the heightened awareness of being an Alicorn?” Vital asked, surprised.
“My body is going through rejection,” Hammer Strike responded. “I’m only holding the Primal, and it’s not turning out well. In order to actually hold and control it, I would need to infuse it into my field.”
“The Primal?” Grif asked.
“I’m sorry, but I refuse to explain.” Hammer Strike shook his head. “Just know that it’s an aspect we will never cover.”
“I have enough divines in my life. I don’t think I want to meddle in that kind of power.” Grif shook his head. “I heard the others shouting, and came to see what was wrong.”
Hammer Strike shrugged. “I’ll live. I just need to let it bleed out of my field.”
“Will you change back when it does?” Grif asked.
“My body must have changed to something that could contain the power. Once it’s gone, I should turn back,” Hammer Strike ended, just in time for another coughing fit.
“You’re sure there’s nothing that can be done to help you?” Wukong asked.
Hammer Strike shook his head. “If someone tries to mess with it externally, it will cause more harm than good.”
“So why did you mess with this in the first place? Feels like you're messing with the atom in some ways.” Pensword stepped onto the ground gingerly, then looked about with wide eyes. “The past has been here,” he muttered. He shivered as a hoof touched a spot. “Holy,” he whispered reverently, bowing as he wrapped his wings around him. “This is the first cave feeling. The first walked here,” he whispered as he sidestepped. “What did you do?”
“Perhaps they felt it,” Hammer Strike commented. “It’s a power so unnatural that some are drawn to it.”
Pensword nodded. “Just be careful.” He fluffed his wings in agitation. “I just got a feeling in my gut, and Matthew’s worried about any side effects we won’t know till later.”
“It’s like Hammer Strike said, Pensword. He just needs to purge his field, and then rest a bit. If I recall correctly, the book mentions that in chapter two or three when it comes to foreign aspects and dealing with them in your field,” Vital said.
“Yeah, but, that doesn’t mean I can purge my worries,” Pensword countered.
“And that’s why you’re such a good friend,” Vital finished.
A few seconds later, another flash of light blinded everyone, and Hammer Strike stood amongst the group, completely back to normal, albeit with a bloodied nose.
“Are you okay to walk?” Grif asked.
“I’ll live,” Hammer Strike replied as he wiped the blood away.
Pensword looked out towards the sea, and frowned as he let the wind blow over his ears to play with his white mane. He closed his eyes, letting his senses push outward. An ear twitched as a familiar voice reached him.
“You know, Trixie, this has to have been one of the most amazing, crazy, and frightening adventures I’ve ever been on in my life.” Vital’s chuckle echoed up the cliffside. “In all this time, I never really expected I’d find someone I liked, let alone that I would date. It’s … well, it’s good. It’s just sort of hard for me, too. I feel conflicted over all this, because I know that eventually, I’m going to have to make a big choice.”
Pensword’s ear twitched as a smirk pulled on his muzzle. He laid an ear on the cloud, and dug out a small peephole, so he could see the conversation without being caught. He spread out the cloud surface with his hind legs, giving just enough extra room for one of his wives, in case they arrived. After all, sharing is caring.
“Trixie knows she is spectacular,” Trixie said dramatically, “but she also knows whatever choice you make will be the right one.”
“Even if that right one means I have to leave Equis and never come back? I’m not saying that’s the right one, mind you. I don’t know yet. But … I mean, if it turns out that way….” Vital sighed as he struck a stray pebble into a nearby tree trunk. “I just … don’t want to hurt you. Maybe … maybe that’s one reason why I’m so scared.”
“Trixie trusts you.” She looked him in the eye. “But this isn’t about Trixie. This is about Vital Spark.”
No.” Vital shook his head ruefully as he turned the jewel on his arm band. In flash of light, a tall man with shaggy blond hair and sad blue eyes sat on the stone with his legs crossed. He reached over, pulled Trixie onto his lap, and began running his fingers gently through her mane as tears ran down his cheeks. “This is about Conor.” He hugged her as he struggled to suppress the sobs heaving in his chest. “And he doesn’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“Sometimes, Trixie has been told that life will not let us know what to do. Sometimes, we must guess at what is right,” Trixie noted as she stared at him with shock.
“And if we guess wrong?” Conor sighed as he leaned back against the cliff face. “What happens then? And what about us?” He then proceeded to facepalm. “And I just realized this is the first time you’ve seen my birth form. Guess who feels stupid now.” He let out a mixture of a laugh and a sigh as he shook his head.
“Have you ever used highly illegal artifacts to enslave a town?” Trixie asked.
“No.”
“Then Trixie doesn’t see why you get to take the right to feel stupid.”
“Because I’m a man, and boys are usually idiots?” Conor rubbed the back of his head nervously.
“Trixie doubts the same logistics apply.”
“Pretty sure Avalon and Lunar Fang would disagree with you on that one.”
Pensword facehoofed as he heard Lunar Fang’s wings. He moved aside to let her settle in, while he pushed her head down to look through the hole.
Lunar Fang bit her lip. “We really need to get him to the next step,” she deadpanned.
“I think he is trying to. He’s just scared.”
“Trixie, some things are just universal. I guess the real thing I’m worried about most is what I’ll have to leave behind, if … well, if I let things keep happening here with Clover, with the guys … with us.” Conor blushed. “It’s times like these where I wish I could just snap my fingers, and make it so I could live both lives. But … as things stand, I don’t know if I’m going to even have a choice anymore. There are things I have to do here, and I don’t know what’ll happen after.” He chuckled. “It’s all just one big, gigantic mess.”
“Welcome to Equis. One big, gigantic mess could be our slogan.”
“It’s still crazy, though. I found out other gods exist, magic is a thing, and that it comes from a completely different source than I was raised to believe, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Then there’s the fact I actually got to talk to the avatar of one of said gods, where I once again had my mind blown, and now there’s this, where I’m dealing with being attracted to a Pony, while still having my history as a human clashing with my desires as a Unicorn. Honestly, there are days where I think Eros or Aphrodite survived, and they’re just playing around with my emotions. Either that, or some type of proxy. Maybe some sort of magical embodiment?” He sighed. “Anyways, yeah. I feel kinda under pressure a lot. Learning magic helps distract from it, and so does hanging out with you and the others, but … it’s still there, and sometimes it just has to come out, no matter how hard I try to keep it in.” He looked away, shamefaced. “I’m … sorry you had to see that.”
She wrapped her hooves around him “It’s fine.”
Conor sighed as he held her closer. “I sure hope it will be.”
“So, my friend, let’s see how strong you are.” Wukong smiled at the recovered Hammer Strike as he laid the staff on the ground before him.
“I thought we already determined my strength with the whole sparring match,” Hammer Strike said.
“We determined your skill, but an adequate test of your physical strength? No, not so much.”
“I feel like I’m going to regret this,” Hammer Strike commented as he reached for the staff. His hooves wrapped around the cold celestial metal, and he slowly began attempting to lift the weapon. It proved completely immune to his first attempts. He applied more strength, only to find the bar still refused to budge. More and more, he tried, and more and more, he failed. Finally, in one last attempt, he put all of his strength into it. He felt nothing, but when he stepped back, and looked down, he could see from an imprint in the ground, the tiniest sliver where the bar had indeed budged slightly. The area was so quiet, one could hear a pin drop.
“Well damn,” Hammer Strike sighed.
“Well damn, indeed,” Wukong chuckled. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen it move.”
“I think I’ll accept that record.” Hammer Strike gave a soft chuckle. “Who knows? Perhaps I can work on getting stronger, and try again sometime way in the future.”
“That would be something to see.” Wukong nodded as he swept his hand in front of him, and the staff levitated itself into the air, flipping end over end as it shrunk to the size of a needle, and slipped behind his ear. He then turned to address the spectators. “I have tried to figure out appropriate gifts for all of you, and I hope I won’t disappoint you.”
Pensword nodded as he watched Wukong, but remained silent as he and his family floated on a cloud nearby. Naturally, Moon River was being her usual giggling and noisy self, while the boy tried to keep her occupied.
“You don’t have to, Wukong. Your hospitality has been gift enough,” Vital Spark said.
“It is custom,” Wukong insisted. “Now who shall be first? Grif and Hammer Strike already have their gifts,” Wukong noted.
“Well, seeing as Vital is learning the culture and customs, maybe start with him?” Pensword spoke up with a small grin.
Wukong grinned in return. “An excellent idea, brother! Come here, my young friend,” he said as he signaled Vital Spark forward.
Vital gulped as he stepped up, and chuckled nervously as he looked back at his friends, lingering briefly on Trixie, before returning to look Wukong in the eye.
Wukong presented him with a small round ring that seemed formed of some type of metal the Unicorn couldn’t identify. It was silver, but as the light bounced off the polished surface, it seemed to change color and form. Two pieces of ivory had been carved in long ovals equidistantly from one another. “A ring to aid you in your craft. It is not very powerful, but will add a boost to most spells cast with it on.”
“Thank you.” Vital bowed his head as his horn lit up with his magic, and he levitated the ring onto it. “And thanks for the advice, too.”
“And for you, Lady.” Wukong turned to Trixie, and produced a cloak pin of silver carved in the likeness of her cutie mark. “To keep your garment safe and clean.”
“Thank you,” Trixie said, unsure how else to reply as she pinned it to her cloak.
He gestured for Pensword to come forward.
Pensword stepped forward and rolled off the cloud, rolled twice more in the air, opened his wings, and glided around Wukong, before landing perfectly in front of the Monkey. A smile pulled at his muzzle at the sound of Moon River’s cheers.
Wukong reached out, and plucked one of Pensword’s feathers, then waved his hand over it. "And now you have a quill that will write so only those you wish to can read what it has written.”
Pensword’s eyes widened in pain, surprise, and perhaps a hint of awe. “So, when I write, I can send a blank page, and only those that it was meant for can see the words?”
Wukong nodded.
“That sounds so awesome,” Pensword muttered as his mouth pulled open into a grin.
“A skin of my finest peach wine for the lady,” Wukong offered towards the cloud.
Fox Feather landed to take the skin. “It will be amazing when I have it after I give birth.” Fox Feather responded.
“Don’t worry. It is special wine. A glass a day will be good for the child's development,” Wukong assured her.
Fox Feather grinned. “That’s good to hear. I’ll treasure this for the days that it lasts.”
“And for you.” He looked up to Lunar Fang as she descended to join her husband. “A blessing for your son. He will be fruitful in life, and will extend your family tree greatly.”
Lunar Fang bowed, and swept her wings wide. “I thank you for the blessing, and shall keep this close to my heart.”
Then the foals descended, and Wukong smiled as they stood before him.
“Be smart.” Wukong booped Cristo’s nose.
“Be witty.” He booped Inigo’s nose.
“Be skillful.” He booped Day Moon. “And the three of you will be magnificent.”
Then he turned to Moon River. “A seed for you, young one. Plant it somewhere close by, and care for it well,” he instructed as he pressed a peach seed into her hooves.
Moon River looked at the seed, before she realized what it was. “Applejack?” she asked.
Lunar Fang smiled. “Yes, Applejack,” she responded as she helped to stow the seed away, even amidst the multiple squeals of joy the filly produced.
Pensword looked to Wukong. “Applejack is associated with growing trees and fruits and food, so she calls trees Applejack.”
Fox Feather giggled. “You should have seen Applejack’s muzzle when she said Applejack, while pointing at a pear.”
Wukong chuckled as he walked up to Pensword, and patted him on the back. “Your little one has spirit. Treasure her.” Then he leaned in to whisper in the commander’s ear. “Sometimes trees can be powerful things. I see a specter over her shoulder. The scent of the blossoms may be of some assistance, but do not rely on them.”
Pensword nodded his thanks. “I shall rely on all options. And thank you,” Pensword returned. Then he smiled. “This be an excellent way to teach her responsibility as well.”
Moon River looked at the pocket they’d stowed the seed in, and smiled. “Tree is Peachy. Peachy George.” Then she giggled again.
Pensword looked at the seed. “Do you mind if we get some Earth Pony magic to help grow the peach tree?”
“Just don’t let anybody take the seeds. If my peaches go everywhere, they will cease to be my peaches,” Wukong noted.
“Moon River will want a small grove. There will be two at the most: one in New Unity, and a second in the Crystal Empire when she moves there. And your brother Hammer Strike lives in New Unity, so your peaches will be well guarded.”
Next Wukong motioned for Avalon and Shrial to approach. Avalon was the epitome of poise as she stepped forward, holding little Tazeer on her back. The twins peeked out from either side of Shrial’s shoulders as she followed Avalon’s example.
“My dear sister.” He looked to Avalon. “Since we last met, I have thought hard on your craft, and the explanation of how magic works for your species. I intended to send this to you, but since you are here….” He produced a cylindrical red container with gold filigree covering both ends. A golden Monkey formed a clasp that held it closed. “In this scroll are some of the more basic taoist spells from my early days. I think you will be able to adapt them for yourself.”
“Thank you.” Avalon bowed her head respectfully as she took the container in her hands. “Will I also be able to share this knowledge with my husband?”
“That will be left to your choice. This is my gift to you. Use it as you will.”
Avalon smiled then, and leaned in to peck the Monkey gently on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then she stepped back, and Shrial stepped forward, while the twins cocked their heads curiously at the Monkey King.
“And you, my dear. I understand that war is your craft, preferably?” Wukong asked.
“Well … I wouldn’t say it’s my craft, perse, but I am my husband’s second in command.”
Wukong smiled as he held out his hand. With a flick of his wrist, a fan appeared in it. He unfolded it in a sudden swift motion. The design was beautiful to behold. Deep green felt covered the bones of the fan, sewn to them with shimmering silver thread. A ruby-red dragon wove its way across the surface. It almost looked like it was moving. “Beautiful, no?” he asked.
“Is this supposed to be a weapon of some kind, then?” Shrial asked curiously. “You did seem to focus on my history as a warrior.”
“Draw your sword,” Wukong instructed. “See for yourself.”
“Avalon, would you mind taking the girls?”
“Not at all.” Avalon smiled as she walked over to grab the two cubs in either arm as she walked a ways back on her hind legs, then set them down on either side. “Let’s watch mamma, and see what happens, hmm?” she whispered conspiratorially. The girls were a little sulky, but that soon changed when they saw Shrial draw her sword, and enter a combat stance.
“Shall we dance?”
Wukong gestured to her to continue.
Shrial raised a curious brow, then began to circle the Monkey King. Her first strike was swift, but well controlled, more probing than harmful. Wukong batted it away with a wave of the fan. Shrial feinted, then reversed her stroke, coming in from below. Wukong moved the fan as though the breeze wasn’t hitting him right, and batted the sword away again. The fan was completely unscathed.
“Interesting.” Shrial’s beak opened in a grin as her tail twitched in anticipation. “You won’t mind, if I test things a little farther, will you, Wukong?”
“Go ahead,” Wukong offered.
This time, Shrial rained a flurry of blows, one after the other, moving smoothly from stance to stance as she shifted between styles. Overheads, lunges, underneath, divebombs. Each technique was somehow deflected, despite the speed and strength behind the blows. Finally, she stood up on her hind paws, and laid her hands over the pommel of her sword to support her weight. “Intriguing. Is it the fan itself, or is it the user, or perhaps a bit of both?”
“The fan was made by a powerful fox demon I once knew. Its beauty belittles its power.” With that, Wukong tossed the fan at a nearby rock. It dug in, hanging there with the edge cutting into the stone.
“A useful artifact to have in a formal situation.” Shrial grinned as she walked over, and retrieved the fan from the boulder. “My thanks.” She bowed in respect to the warrior, and returned to join Avalon and the girls.
“I don’t think I missed anyone, have I?” Wukong asked as he looked around.
“It doesn’t look like it,” Vital agreed.
“No, you haven’t missed anyone that is here in the meadow. Maybe later I can introduce you to those whom I adopted as children?”
“Perhaps.” Wukong nodded, and a hint of a smile pulled at his lips. “I might enjoy that.”
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well that is intresting in deed and i belive hammer strike just saw lokies son............. if you guis brings the nordik mythologi in this you will make my day FOR VALLHALLA!!
and keep the great work upp!
The divine armor of the Dragon King? Isnt that the same dragon king whose punishment for eating Tripitakas horse, was to become the horses replacement to ferry Tripitaka on his Journey West?
That was getting messy with HammerStrike there, almost got himself Null and Void?
Monkey is apparently very happy to have freinds visiting that can actually let him at least a little return to his days of happiness with his journey freinds.
Intresting to see Hammerstrike managing to move the impossible, but then again its like comparing to divine will. Except I have a cheat. the first attempt would be activating the KK drive from Teacher. the only Humanx FTL ship capable of taking off from a planetary surface without causing the planet to collapse into an intersecrtion singularity. That is, move the planet a little.
Things get hazy after that because I cant remember the name of the story where aliens find the lost world of humanity, peaceful, serene, and after the first lot are vapourised by a small child, the second lot land, asking for help. And Earth itself rejoices as the planet activates its stardrive and heads for war.
The next largest vessel thats designed as such would be the MegaKrang. After that, Theres the Class 2 Hyperdrive Shunt modified Ringworld, and a theoretical design for a Dyson sphere whose hull is a Culture class GSV primary drive. this however has the intresting limitation that due to the behaviour of Culture drives, the Sphere can go anywhere in the universe in the length of time it takes light to travel accross it, but finds it more difficult to go anywhere closer than it takes light to go accross it.
That might be a low power ring according to Wukong, Conner, but given he is using deity class powers, thats still in Pinkie levels, if not localised Discord.
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slephnir has already been mentioned in story my friend,
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no the eastern dragon king of the ocean was different then the dragon prince who was forced to be a horse.
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In about ten more chapters. The early sixties.