Out of Time
She opened her eyes to darkness, and found that she couldn't move.
Well, that was only half true. She was unable to move by herself, but she was moving - like a puppet, suspended high by cruel, binding strings. Her limbs jerked forward and back as she dangled from their grasp, never quite natural in their efforts, and she could only imagine what a ridiculous spectacle she must look to anyone watching her.
She held vicious, bloodthirsty weapons in her hands, and she killed with them. She killed, and she killed and she killed, hardly able to pause to draw a breath, increasingly unable to even recognise who she was slaying - only that it had to be done. She shone despite these vile acts, the matchless perfection of her form no different from the most brilliant work of art - a true diamond in the rough.
Choice was irrelevant. There was no freedom in this life. No alternatives.
That was the generous thing to do, wasn't it? To put one's own feelings and opinions aside, to bear the burdens for one's friends, to do what was necessary for their survival, and for them to thrive.
Things changed, suddenly.
She fell still. The strings that had directed her before were gone - nay, severed - but without them she couldn't so much as frame the intent to move again. She lay limp and lifeless, unmoving, unknowing, undone.
And then, as suddenly as before - like that dark existence before had been just a moment in time - things changed again.
A seed took root within her and grew, slowly at first, then more rapidly. She felt her strength returning, she could move, she could stretch, and did so, moving aching limbs and delighting in the sensation. The growth continued, beyond her body, vines forming around her like an armoured shell, like a cocoon, like the earth itself was wrapping around her, keeping her safe from whatever might wish to do her harm.
As it did, what she saw also changed. A vista of unchecked growth. The vibrancy of life on its fullest display.
She felt like she was connected to everything, and like everything was connected to her.
She breathed in through lungs she didn't know she even had anymore, tasting the most pleasant fragrance in the air. She watched as beautiful flowers swayed in the wind; as mighty trees flourished in the glades, standing tall and proud, as water poured from distant mountains into shimmering lakes and fed the cycle of life, waxing at its strongest.
This was the bounty of nature - the gift of the spirit of life.
And who could refuse such an offer, such an undertaking so freely and generously given? She allowed herself to surrender to it, and fell into its sweet embrace.
She was falling.
She could see nothing below or above her but could feel the pull of gravity over her body, could feel the weightlessness and the air rushing past around her.
She laughed.
It was terrifying. It was breathtaking. It was exhilarating, and it made her laugh in spite of the apparent danger - a raucous, great sound that came right from her belly.
There was a warmth in her chest. It wasn't painful, or any cause of concern to her - if anything, it was the opposite, because it had always been with her. It was nothing new, or out of the ordinary. Focusing on it brought to mind images, scattered recollections of her friends, her family, and precious moments that had involved them. Those that she loved, who she wanted to help and protect, who she would give everything in the world to make smile. It made everything easier, as it always had done.
The image of a vast expanse of water, like a sea or an ocean, filled her mind for a moment - and then was gone, as if the tide itself had swept it away.
She was no suddenly longer falling, but now felt herself moving, physically moving in a way that she had never been capable of moving her body before. The wind pushed back against her, but couldn't stop her as she charged forward.
The warmth in her chest was still present, and it began to grow... and change. No longer did it feel like it came from a pure wellspring of hope and optimism, but now it rushed out from her like a blazing pyre. It was energising instead of calming, raging instead of soothing.
Now, instead of salving... it was burning.
She embraced the change, drinking in the fire like it was the sweetest milkshake she'd ever tasted. Her mouth was filled with the taste of smoke and ash, but these invigorated her where they should have debilitated, and she continued to forge ahead.
She laughed.
She moved faster, and faster, and faster, but did not feel herself tiring. If anything, things became easier the more that she hastened onwards - all cares and worries slipping away beneath the acceleration.
Viridian flames spread in her wake, wherever she walked, but she paid them no heed. They were fleeting, ephemeral, and burned themselves out as quickly as they destroyed - but the fire that now raged inside her breast was an eternal thing. It pushed her on, ever faster, as everything around her dissolved.
She had the power to change the world. She had the power to make her friends smile.
She had no idea where she was going as her vision faded into darkness, but that wasn't a problem.
After all, it was the journey, not the destination, that mattered in the end, and she wouldn't stop laughing... every step of the way.
She gazed out at... nothing. Emptiness. Non-existence.
When she looked around, even down at where her body should have been, there was simply nothing there.
What was she even looking with? Did her eyes even exist? Did she? Did anything?
What was the truth? She had no way to tell.
It felt like she was moving, drifting through the void. The sensation of isolation, of being entirely removed from the outside world, was like nothing she had ever experienced before, but... it wasn't a bad feeling.
She didn't like being this alone, but couldn't deny that she had always found it easier in the past to be honest with herself in moments of quiet contemplation. Being honest with friends or family had never been difficult for her, but self-reflection hadn't always been her strongest suit, and that--
That was her fault. That was her fault. That was her fault.
She realised suddenly that she had been wrong. The darkness - this emptiness - wasn't empty after all. She wasn't alone... or perhaps she was?
There were things lurking out there, great vast objects or beings that gradually took shape the longer that she observed them... and then, just as she thought she was on the verge of fathoming what they truly were, they dissolved back into formless nothing once again.
She continued to watch, fascinated, as this mesmerising process repeated itself - as she sank lower and lower into the darkness.
Her aimless descent drifted her close to one of the undulating shapes. Close enough to...
She reached out and touched the non-existent shape. Despite its non-existence, it reached out and touched her back.
Thoughts rushed unbidden into her head - deep, negative emotions that she had never experienced so vividly before. Betrayal. Abandonment. Loss.
In most circumstances, these feelings would have made her recoil, would have made her back away in outrage or in horror, but here, for reasons unknown, they washed over her like the rain in summer.
One deception leads to another, until reality itself is held in contempt. Some might have called it madness, but wasn't it truly madness to deny the truth?
That was her fault.
"I will promise you one thing," The words came to her unspoken, but she heard them nonetheless. For reasons she couldn't explain, she trusted in their truth, as all sight and sense left her. "Just one thing."
"I will never, ever lie to you."
She opened her eyes and found that she couldn't see.
It wasn't that it was too dark. It was too bright.
There was only the light.
She felt herself beginning to move, and, though still sightless, was elated to realise that she was soaring. It almost hurt to think about how much she had missed this sensation, this freedom, this simple joy.
Almost.
But it didn't hurt. Not here. Not in this place of compassion, of respect, of tenacious service.
The light had healed her scars. Soothed her sins. Borne her skyward upon wings of pure radiance.
She was loyal to the light, and the light was loyal to her. She was loyal to her friends, and her friends were loyal to her.
That was the honest truth.
There was nothing to trouble her. Nothing she had to fear.
She had everything she needed, everyone she needed, at her side.
She was at peace.
She found herself staring out at a great vista, dotted with towers as far out as the eye could see. Higher and higher they were stacked, great structures made up of various materials - of brick, of metal, of simple grey stone.
As she watched, they began to sway. She couldn't see why they were doing so, could only imagine that their foundations were so weak as to leave them vulnerable to a strong breeze, even though all was calm... or perhaps it was their own top-heaviness that led them to struggle.
Desperately, fearfully, and without really thinking why, she reached out and made to steady the closest. She had expected to fail, to watch it come tumbling down, but... it was easy to do so - far easier than she had expected. She looked out at the next in line, and steadied that one too - and the next after that, and the next after that - until they were all standing perfectly still.
She found herself thinking that they were all very out of place, mismatched terribly by type, and that it would have been nice if they had all been properly organised. With hardly any more thought than that, the towers began to move, bathed in her power, dragging themselves across the ground until they were arrayed neatly in three rows.
Brick with brick. Metal with metal. Stone with stone. All laid out in perfect order. In harmony.
A simple pattern. One with one. Two with two. Three with three.
This was better, she decided. It was right. How things should be.
She felt drawn to seek other things that she could rearrange, organise, improve. There were more towers, just beyond where thought that the first set had ended, and once again she sought to change them, better them - brick with brick, metal with metal, stone with stone. She felt a greater sense of power and control with every tower that she adjusted, like it became almost as natural as breathing, as simply existing.
And then she began to grow... frustrated. There was no end to them. No end to this task. No end to the ordering of these things that were disordered, that needed her intervention, that needed her to fix them. Things that only she could fix.
She found she couldn't stop. The power was still there, she still felt the energy - and she found that she needed it. It was part of her, now - or perhaps it had always been part of her, waiting for the spark that would set it in motion.
Brick with brick. Metal with metal. Stone with stone.
One with one. Two with two. Three with three.
And then - suddenly, without the slightest warning, the towers were gone. There was nothing there, nothing around her. She felt... nothing.
No connection... no bond. Complete and utter severance. Complete and utter isolation.
It was nothing, and yet at the same time it was overwhelming. She clutched her chest and opened her mouth in a silent scream, the darkness taking her once more.
The last thing she knew before it claimed her was the silhouette of a most unusual blade.
She looked out upon a hellish wasteland.
Nothing grew from the dusty grey ground. Nothing that bore flesh wandered the wastes. There was no life, here.
Only death.
In the distance, she could see a mighty structure of black metal, tethered to the landmass where she stood by humongous chains, like it was a boat tethered to an island. A tower, perhaps, or a citadel. She decided she very much did not want to go there, and with that thought found her attention drawn back to what she saw before her.
Blue wisps floated aimlessly across the terrain, like the last firefly of the season fruitlessly seeking companionship in the new autumn sky. One of them drew near to her, almost close enough to touch, and she was immediately struck by a sense of despair, of loss, of horror unending.
These weren't her feelings, she quickly realised. They were someone else's. They belonged to this poor, unfortunate soul.
The soul had lived a long life, but not a good one. It had been filled with great pain and much suffering, and had ended the same way. It had no desires left, in this deathless, suspended state - save to share its despair with anyone--
She withdrew from that feeling, that connection, recoiling as she would if she had accidentally touched a hot kettle with an unprotected hand. The urge to flee filled her, and she felt herself pulled away - upwards, away from the wasteland, away from this place of terror.
She soared higher, leaving it behind - and now felt a rush of competing sensations from impossibly far above - of purpose, of conflict, of renewal, of penance...
And then... she was dragged back down.
"Well, now," a voice spoke - loudly, slowly, purposefully. "What have we here?"
She couldn't determine its source, but knew there was no getting away from it. There was no escaping from it. All she knew now was the wasteland, again, and that terrible tower in the distance.
"My eye sees everything here. It pierces through the fog of time and reveals all to me. I see everything here - and I see you."
This was more than just being observed. This was to be scoured, all her thoughts revealed, all her secrets laid bare. There was nothing she could keep from the voice, no matter how hard she tried, or wanted to.
"Remarkable. You have travelled far indeed... a world away, one might say. You have experienced much."
She felt suffocated by the mere menacing presence of the voice, even though she couldn't see its source - like she was drowning beneath the tide.
"You are no stranger to the passing of those you love. No stranger to pain. You have seen friends suffer. You have seen those that you have cared about, those that you have cared for - wither and die."
The longer the voice spoke, the more it hurt. There was no crying out, no fighting its presence, its weight. The weight of inevitability, of an end.
"Tell me - would you not want an end to this terrible cycle? Given the opportunity, would you not want to bring to a stop this great machine of death? Do you not think it unkind for things to go on this way?"
The fog around her seemed to thicken, and she felt herself being pulled away. This time, the owner of the voice did not seek to prevent her passage, but merely carried on speaking, growing gradually fainter.
"I am grateful to you. Your presence, and the knowledge you carry, have given me much to consider... and much to hope for.
"Go in peace," he said, his voice barely audible as she drifted into the darkness. "Until we meet again... my little pony."
The first thing that Twilight knew as she staggered from the cave was pain.
Her body ached like she had just run a race, her heart was pounding out of her chest - but these were manageable compared to the splitting headache and nausea that accompanied them.
The stale cave air flooded her mouth, and it did nothing to improve how ill she was feeling. She could hear her friends behind her, groaning to such a degree that she could only imagine that they too shared her symptoms.
Mere moments later, the group emerged from the cave into the open, their eyes fighting to adjust to the light of a midday sun. They could see that the blizzard seemed to have long since stopped its rampage - the snow on the ground had not fallen remotely recently. The wind was still, the air fresh and calm.
It was, by appearance alone, as pleasant a day in the Dragonblight as they had ever seen one.
Applejack squinted up at the sky, unsteady and confused.
"It was gettin' into the afternoon when we... when we... how long were we in there?"
"I... I don't..."
"What happened to us in there?" Twilight asked, without really expecting anyone to know. "I... I can't..."
I can't remember.
"Can anyone... remember?"
As if by way of answer, Pinkie Pie fell to the ground and hurled her guts out onto the snow. Two seconds passed, and Rarity did the same. No other response was forthcoming, and the reality was clear - none of the group could recall what had taken place in the cave, only moments before.
Oh, girls, Twilight thought, and went to stagger towards her friends - but stopped in her tracks as a shrieking cry rang out from above, and the shadow of a pair of wings fell on them from above.
She made to cry out, a warning in her throat, the fragment of a recent memory, of fire and death at the forefront of her mind - but then she looked up, and sagged in relief.
It was a gryphon, a large, proud, and noble beast, and it was dressed in violet cloth of a hue that the mage had frequently seen worn by visitors to the tower in Stormwind where she had studied. It bore two riders - one towards its rear, dressed in matching violet robes, and one at its front, clad in midnight plate.
The avian swooped down towards them, landing gracefully, and the latter rider dismounted onto the snow with a clanking thud.
"Memoria..." Twilight croaked.
"Well, I'll be," their rescuer said, "You're alive. This may not be the wasted journey I thought it would be after all."
She took a long moment to survey the group in their sorry state. The nature of her expression was unknown to them, hidden beneath her helm, but somehow it still felt like she was looking at them disdainfully. "Get yourselves together, and stand by this mage," she gestured to the violet-clad caster getting down from the gryphon's back behind her, who was visibly shivering from the cold, and whose name - Twilight suspected - Memoria hadn't bothered to learn. "She'll open a portal for you to Dalaran. There's an Alliance camp there - make yourselves known to them and they'll debrief you. I'll be heading back there after I've finished scouting."
Too frazzled, not to mention baffled, to object or query the providence of her arrival, the group obeyed, slowly getting to their feet, with Rainbow supporting Pinkie, and Applejack helping up Rarity.
Twilight lingered in place. If nothing else, engaging Memoria in conversation was an excellent excuse to continue to regain her bearings, and keep her mind on anything but ejecting the contents of her stomach via her mouth. "You came back to find us..."
"I was ordered to do so, in addition to scouting the area of the Wrathgate after the battle," the death knight shrugged as she replied.
"...after the battle?"
"Oh, of course - you missed it. Well, we lost, thanks to the Forsaken - and with the Battle for the Undercity it's been a bloody month since." Memoria seemed rather too cheerful about this, given how much she had wished to take personal revenge against the Lich King - Twilight could scarcely imagine how much pain the death knight had to have doled out in order to salve the pain of that missed opportunity. "I must confess that I didn't expect to find you after a month, and certainly not so near where I originally left you. Have you been camping out here this entire time?
We... lost?
...a month?
When she failed to reply out loud, Memoria tried again. "What happened to you?"
Twilight struggled to picture what had occurred, even though it could only have been minutes, even an hour ago. The thoughts were just slipping away from her, disappearing into the snow and the early morning sky. "We took shelter in that cave," she waved her hand in its general direction, and had to fight to suppress the urge to throw up. "And then... I can't... I can't... remember."
"Amnesia?" Memoria's voice made clear her amusement, tinged with the faintest hint of irritation. She started to walk away, walking over to the other mage to hurry the creation of the portal alone, speaking over her shoulder as she went. "Aren't we beyond such fictions at this point? You don't have to lie to me. If you don't want to tell me, just don't tell me."
"N-no, I..." Twilight stammered, utterly unable to form the right words to convey her confusion and growing horror. "We really... can't remember..."
All she could do was join her friends in slowly moving, disoriented, towards the newly-formed portal that led to the city of mages, leaving her barely-recalled visions behind.
High above and concealed with magic, the two observers watched as the group entered the portal conjured by the Kirin Tor mage, departing - at last -the frozen wastes of the Dragonblight. They waited as the death knight mounted the gryphon with the Kirin Tor mage and took wing to the sky.
"It is done," The first, robe-clad man said, when finally they were truly alone. "They will be safe in Dalaran. This dangerous moment in time has passed."
"Good," the blade-bearer replied. His weapon was now stained with the fresh blood and ichor of the foes he had slain, though his actions had left no trace on the landscape around them - their fallen bodies had simply vanished into the flow of time. He flicked his weapon down and a mechanism split it open where the blade met the hilt, causing spent cartridges to tumble out, which he caught and pocketed.
"l will miss this weapon," he said. "As valuable as Twilight's modifications have been to make it compatible with this world's magic, they will not allow it to function when I return to my own."
"Perhaps you might consider making a gift of it," his companion suggested.
"Perhaps," he nodded thoughtfully. "Shall we be off, then?"
"A moment, please," the other said. "I wish to... mourn them."
"Mourn them?" he asked, confused, glancing down at where the group had just stood.
"My children," his fellow replied.
"Ah." The blade-bearer lowered his gaze. "Of course," he said.
A few minutes later, the robe-clad man breathed in deeply, then let out a sigh. "Thank you," he said. "I would be grateful if you would be somewhat... circumspect, as to the details of what you have seen today."
"The risks of travelling through time," the other nodded. "Fear not. I can keep a secret. Though, I rather assumed that your intent was to transport me home immediately after this little excursion."
He shook his head. "I would not remove from you the opportunity to say goodbye to your friend. I will bring you to Twilight Sparkle shortly, but in addition to your discretion, I would beg one last favour from you."
"Oh?" The swordsman chuckled. "And here I thought I'd fought my last battle in time..."
"It is nothing of that nature, though you may well find it equally as arduous. When you speak to Twilight, I would ask you to lie for me."
The blade-bearer raised an eyebrow. "I have a friend who has more experience with lying to his comrades than I do, but I will try to follow his example. What lie would you have me tell?"
"She will ask you who it was that brought you to her," the other said, eyes cast down with a weight unending. "I would have you say... that my name is Nozdormu."
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Do I have to play the game in order to understand whats happening or
Well, that was a trippy, but also poetic chapter. Felt a bit like we were seeing through each of the different types of magic in Azeroth. Druidism, Shamanism, Void, Holy, Arcane, and Death, in that order.
11681203
Does Warcraft really not have any earth, wind, water or fire magic in it?
11681244
It does actually, but they tend to be "subschools"
For example, fire is considered elemental and can be conjured through shamanism but it is also possible to convert arcane into fire.
11681244
Those aren't types of magic but elemental plains in the warcraft universe.
There's a "Warcraft" Tab on Fimfiction.net that you can add to your story, you know...
11681299
Elemental magic comes from the intersection of the 6 cosmic forces.
Mages and Shamans use elemental magic.
The Elemental planes where places the titans created to banish the 4 elemental lords of Azeroth other planets don't have them.
Alternative name for the chapter: Everything's coming up Rainbow Dash!
...Huh. Well, that... happened. :D
Thanks for writing!
11681203
Oh, hm. Interesting idea, thanks!
Though thinking on it and checking a reference, I disagree on the details; I think it's more likely:
Life, Disorder (Fel), Shadow, Light, Order (Arcane), Death
So we have correspondences of Rarity/Generosity/Life, Pinkie Pie/Laughter/Disorder, Applejack/Honesty/Shadow, Rainbow Dash/Loyalty/Light, Twilight/Magic/Order, and Fluttershy/Kindness/Death. And Fluttershy in particular appears to have directly contacted... something.
11681176
Nah I played World of Warcraft and even I have no idea wtf happened my best guess is that Nozdormu did something to augment them for the world they are in
11681699
ah ok
well i am up to date on the most current chapter and so far it has been a interesting journey and when derpy showed up that got me going WTF i just hope dinky didn't get sent there as well cause i know what death knights are forced do to those who are close to them when they become death knights and to have derpy kill dinky i really can't see that happening
good story so far and the blade-bearer is Thancred from ff14...so is this a 3 way crossover?