Corrupted Lands

by Nameless Narrator

We Are the Land: Escape

"Again?" Mirage rolls his eyes as Spring presses her muzzle against a window of yet another bakery. Globs of drool flow down the glass, corroding small holes in the windowsil, "Fine," he sighs, jingling his ever lighter bag of bits. At the rate his money is dwindling, he finds the eventual attack of the 'bad Queen' more and more appealing.

It's not that Spring WANTS him to buy stuff per se, but the joy with which she admires any shiny bauble or an item of food would make a statue crack a smile. They've been walking around for over an hour, and Spring's facination was drawn mostly to colours and scents.

"Don't come crying to me when you get fat and unattractive," he grins to himself.

"Fat bad?" Spring tilts her head, focuses, and her torso shifts towards more muscular and thinner one.

"I don't even know where to start," Mirage shakes his head, "Come on, let's hope the proprietor doesn't throw stuff at us this time," he opens the bakery door, "Greetings, sir, could you please be an exception and NOT throw your hoof-made stock at me?"

A pie whizzes past his head and is caught by Spring's tongues and devoured mid-air.

"Me thank," she licks her muzzle and beams at the baker. These ponies are so nice, they keep giving her tasty things over and over!

"Ummm," the baker offers the usual confused reacion Mirage is used to by now.

"I'm NOT paying for that one."

"So...?" the baker is completely stumped. So are the four customers who one by one peek out from behind the counter where they hastily jumped after Spring's entrance.

"One piece of whatever your special product is. I don't even care what it is, just tell me how much, give it to her, and we'll be going."

"Do... THEY actually eat our food?" the baker leans under the counter for a paper bag.

"My money pouch says they definitely do," Mirage scowls.

"Tasty," Spring sniffs the air, "Smell everything."

"Yeah yeah," the Crystal Guard nods, counting the requested bits.

"Here it is, my special eclair," the baker smiles to match Spring's excited face. She sniffs the bag, examines it from all sides, sniffs it again, and frowns, "What's wrong?" the baker asks in utter disbelief. His renowned creation has been REFUSED!

"No smell," Spring explains, "No taste," she starts erratically walking through the bakery, taking in whiffs of scents. She ends up entering what is likely the kitchen.

"Don't look at me," Mirage shrugs at the baker's questioning glance, "We've been to at least ten other food places and she's never done this. Perhaps she's just full? You know, like a foal who feels sick but can't stop eating because they have no self-control and everything tastes good."

"That was an unexpectedly precise description," the baker grins knowingly, "Are you a father?"

"My marefriend and I are working on it."

"Is that her-"

"NO, I have a normal one! Why does everypony keep asking that?"

Spring walks out of the kitchen, holding a small cloth bag in her mouth.

"What is it, flour?" Mirage pokes it.

"No, vanilla powder," the baker rubs his muzzle, "I think I know what she wants. Give me a second."

He takes Spring's bag, much to her disappointment. Mirage, half expecting her to eat the baker on the spot, breathes in relief. A moment later he returns, holding a table cloth decorated with red and white squares. He ties it around Spring's neck and her eyes go wide. Three tongues dart out and start licking the baker all over.

"No-brbfh-calm dow-brbrbr-I have a wife-mrmmfm!"

Mirage smacks Spring in the back of her head. Her tentacles hesitantly release the stallion.

"I think she likes you," he gives the baker a sadistic grin as Spring keeps looking from the cloth to the baker.

"Uh," the released, heavily breathing and blushing pony huffs, "Whoah, now I understand why some young ponies run away into the wilderness to get some action with one of them," he gathers himself under the gazes of the other customers, "Well, ehm, I think you were right, young guard. Your 'entusiastic' friend here isn't hungry, she just likes the scents. The magical cloth I gave her is usually used to show samples of sauces and spices to potential customers without having to lug jars around. Each square holds a different flavor and scent for up to several days."

"So, how much?"

"Free of charge. I have to save the reputation of my failed eclair somehow. You know, it's specifically designed so that you can taste it only once you bite into it, like an explosion."

"Great," Mirage smiles, this time without any happiness in it, "Now, if I were you I would close the shop and barricade yourself at home for few days because stuff's gonna hit the fan soon. I'm not sure why there isn't anypony running around already and warning ponies, but they should be."

The customers follow Spring and Mirage out and rush off to their respective homes.

"Well, saves me some bits," the guard gives a sad glance to the money pouch now hanging around his neck.

"Bit money," Spring mumbles.

"Yeah, you need to do something useful to get coins and exchange them for stuff you want."

"Work..." she could get all the shiny stuff if she had enough of the yellow 'bits'. All she needs to do is to help ponies somehow then, "Where help?"

"What?"

"Work help where?"

Mirage stares. Then he gets the dumbest idea any pony ever had including those asking 'Why did this pineapple give me a wedding ring?'. But hey, this day has sucked for him enough, why shouldn't he let the curse spread around a little? He recalls an elderly lady berating him when he was looking for a job.

"I can take you to the employment office. You are SUUUURE to find something to do there."

Thank stars Corrupted have no notion of sarcasm.

The tall, steel grey building at the end of their journey welcomes them about as heartily as expected. Ponies gasp and run away, guards surround them until greeted with Mirage's badge and explanation, and the crystal pegasus himself looks at the calling number above the office door. There are dozens of ponies in the waiting room due to the loss of a part of the Empire in past weeks, and he finds the lowest issued number between slips of paper thrown on the ground by hastily evacuating ponies.

"Now," he shows it to Spring, "When this number appears above the door, you go in and ask the lady for a job, understand?"

"Yes."

"Eeeeexcellent," Mirage sits down, awaiting the inevitable heart attack of the old crone who once told him he would never make it as a guard and should 'go make money as a Corrupted bait so that real ponies can do their job'.

Spring goes inside.

Silence.

Spring comes out five minutes later, holding a form in her mouth.

"An application for Cloudsdale weather service," Mirage reads in utter disbelief, eye twitching.

"Nice lady," Spring chimes.

"Blrlblrlg!" Mirage foams at the mouth and kicks the door to the office open, "I HATE YOU!" he yells at the grey-maned mare behind the table.

"The department of complaints is three doors to the left," she says matter-of-factly without giving him a glance, "Also, I wasn't thinking you would take the 'Corrupted bait' career seriously. Well done anyway, mister Mirage."

Painful murder is the clear wish in Mirage's expression. He yells:

"Spring! Come here and eat her!"

"No. Nice pony. Gave job paper."

"Hmm, still about as successful with mares as before," the office lady rings a bell and the calling number changes, "Now, please leave. I have a job to do, and I intend to do it well. Have fun in Cloudsdale."

"You... youuuuuuuu!" he glares, ponting at her with shaking hoof.

"If you have any business with me then please go outside and take a number."

The door slams shut with hatred burning like a thousand suns.

"If the other Queen actually attacks the Empire, I'm joining her."

The grumbling and harrassed guard accompanied by the young Queen set out again, each one in a distinctly different mood.

A giant cloud hovers over the nothern part of the Empire, rainbow coloured streams flowing from its sides into hungry mouths of wide sewers grates in the industrial complex underneath. The city of Cloudsdale, home to the most remaining pegasi and its weather-based architecture is only accessible through tall spires bearing wide spiral starcases, flight, or long shafts with elevators reaching up to the visitors' entrance. Mirage, deciding to take the 'on hoof' route to save some money, steps off the crystal platform onto the cloud bedding of the city itself.

"Whzlbz-aah!" Spring, following him, falls through the cloud without any resistance. Only her tail stabbed in the crystal floor like a harpoon keeps her from dropping all the way. She pulls herself back up and pokes the beginning of Cloudsdale street with distrust, eyes darting from Mirage back to the cloud fluff, "No walk."

"Uhh, yeah. Pegasi can walk on clouds due to their hollow bones. We are pretty light."

"Come," she waves Mirage back, "Lick."

The pegasus returns with curiosity and immediately chokes as Spring shoves her tentacle tongues down his throat. They retract before his face can go blue from the lack of air. Licking her lips, the Queen's body shifts, becoming thinner, leaner, and more fragile. Few seconds of focus later, she steps on the cloud again with utmost care. It wobbles underneath her, but holds.

"Wooow. I must... wow, just wow," Mirage stares, "This is really bad, honestly. Cool, but super bad."

"Me bad?"

"Nonono, not you. Come on," he nods. Spring follows as they walk through the new world completely unknown to her, "Cloudsdale folk believe the Corrupted can't get up there no matter what, that they would just drop to their death from the sky. Stay close to me, this might come as a rather devastating shock. At least it did to me, and I'm from the Empire, not Cloudsdale. I'm sort of used to pissing myself at the idea of your kind getting through the barrier. Let's hope these guys took prince Shining Armor's broadcast seriously."

The Cloudsdale pegasi, none sparkly and shiny like Mirage, rush off whenever they spot Spring. She doesn't have much time to be bothered, as the longer she stays up here, the worse she feels. It is all for the shiny coins. Once she has the coins, she can go back down to the real world. A formation of pegasi clad in blue and gold passes above them.

"You know, when I was young I wanted to be a Wonderbolt. The mares are HOT! Never got even past the preliminary exams though."

"Da Wunderplots?" Spring asks, unable to find a meaningful explanation in her stolen memories.

"Exactly," she gets none, though.

The flying squad circles through the sky and lands, surrounding them.

"What is IT doing here? Shouldn't the royal couple be accompanying the 'guest'?" an obviously annoyed mare scowls at Mirage.

"Look, SHE is another guest, not such high-profile one, and, believe it or not, she is here to get a job with the weather service."

"You're kidding," she gives him a stare so deadpan it could kill a wok.

"Actually, I am. It started as a joke that backfired horribly. Can you just tell her off so we can go back down? I can't, it would be like kicking a puppy that can fuck you, eat your corpse, and then transform it into a copy of itself."

"You... serious...?" the leader coughs, unable to comprehend what's going on.

"Just, I don't know. Tell her to move a cloud or something."

"I... I don't even," she finally gathers her wits and stands tall, "You!" she barks at Spring.

"Hello!"

"AAH! It can talk?!"

"Focus, mare!" Mirage facehoofs.

"Right, right. Can you actually fly?" she flaps her wings, jumps up, and hovers in the air.

Spring tries to imitate her. Growing wings is easy, flapping them as well, but as soon as she reaches about two-pony height and stays there for few seconds her entire world turns around, complete confusion overtakes her, and she falls back down on the cloud.

"Sick..."

"The weather service is required to move clouds all over the sky," the mare follows Mirage's script, "If you can't fly, you can't join. Simple."

Getting up on legs wobbling like noodles, Spring summons her ground tentacles. Up here she has no land to nourish them, nothing solid she could feel underneath, no real world. The tendrils reach up towards the closest small cloud hanging above, and stop just inches below it, swinging wildly in an attempt to shove it away.

Various members of the Wonderbolt squad chuckle and cover their mouths at the pathetic attempt.

"Sorry," the leader uncharacteristically pats Spring's head, "I know how it feels. Why do you need a job anyway?"

"Bits," Spring offers the mare a sniff of her food cloth scarf thingy, "Nice smell buy."

"You know," the mare turns to the rest of the squad who are blushing ar giggling, "That's way too adorable to be healthy for my heart. You, Crystal Guard, get her off the streets! You can thank me later."

"I just might," he breathes a sigh of relief, although Spring's drooped ears and a little pout put a damper on the mood, "Come on, I'll buy you something nice back down."

And he does. A sparkly brass bracelet decorated with colourful glass resembling gems. It might have cost him only few bits, due to being a cheap fake. but to Spring's open eyes it's treasure. She's also happy to be back on the real streets, not only thanks to not feeling sick anymore, but also to all the colours being back, not all white like in the clouds.

"Sure wish my marefriend was this easy to please," he grumbles, "but noooo, she needs a real diamond so she can feel pretty. Pff, if she needed a diamond to be pretty I wouldn't have asked her out in the first place."

Spring understands close to nothing from Mirage's monologue aside from him being unhappy, so she licks his face. Ponies seem to like that when she doesn't overdo it.

"You happy now!" she concludes as Mirage wipes strings of black drool off his face.

"Yeah, yeah."

"HEY, MOM, THAT'S HER! THAT'S HER!" they hear yelling, and an excited foal rushes past Mirage and hugs Spring's leg.

"Well that's a new reaction," the guard mumbles, blinking at the sight of a foal jumping around the Corupted Queen as if on a trampoline, "Who are you?"

"My name is Ripe Soil," an earthpony mare followed by a positively huge stallion introduces herself politely, "and this is my husband Ready Plow."

Tears streak from Mirage's eyes as he bites the inside of his mouth not to start laughing.

"You," he snorts, "Ehm, you are from the overtaken part of the Empire, right?"

"Exactly, we lost our farm some time ago and got cut off from our colt during the escape. We thought we would never see him again," she looks at the ground, "But after few days he returned, saying a Corrupted mare named Spring brought him to the barrier safely. We thought it was the prince's visitor so we were on the way to give her our thanks."

"Uh, yeah. Business first, miss Ripe, ehm, Soil," Mirage can't help glancing at the mare's wide hips and her menacing husband, "Spring here believes prince's visitor is evil and is plotting to threaten the Empire. If I were you I would hole up for few days with a good stock of supplies."

They look at Spring jumping around like a rodeo pony with the little colt on her back.

"One more minute?" Ready Plow asks with unexpected gentleness.

"Yeah," Mirage smiles.

Thick, black veins start cutting through the crystal streets of the Empire.

"Aaand, here it comes. Hope the army had enough time to prepare," Mirage twirls his spear, "If anything happens, hide behind me. Let's get you home and have the soldiers and the royals deal with this."

"Ok-ok-okay," Ripe Soil looks around and presses her side against Plow's, "Weed Sickle, come here!"

"Yes, mom!" he jumps off Spring's back and onto his mother's.

Corrupted Hunters form from the semi-liquid veins, large shapes of ponies crossed with lions immediately aiming towards the nearest prey, in this case - Mirage. One's charge is stopped as he impales himself mid-jump on Mirage's spear. His completely undisturbed attack ends with a swing of his paw hitting Mirage's head and knocking his helmet off, and him off his hooves.

"Hey, big guy!" Ripe Soil waves her hips at the Hunter, breaking his focus for a second. A second Ready Plow uses to buck up with both his hind legs and slam them into the Corrupted's muzzle. Three more finally materialize, surrounding the group.

Spring is not a Protector. She has fought only once, and that was in blind instinctive panic. When she sees Mirage and the huge hunk of a stallion called 'Redeeplou' or something under attack, she jumps at one of the Hunters, hooves flailing, to get his attention. Her attacks is accompanied by a simple wish for the others to be safe.

Growls and snarls come from all around, and the Hunter Spring jumped on is torn to pieces by hungry mouths absorbing the dying Corrupted's essence. Twelve Hunters wearing what seems to be a poor replica of Mirage's Crystal Guard armor are standing around, crushing the other Corrupted erupting from the spreading darkness in the ground.

"What are those?" Mirage jumps up on his legs while Plow shoves his wife and son behind him, "And why are they helping?"

"Mine!" Spring beams.

"Uhh..." the crystal pegasus looks into the distance where the spire of the Imperial palace looms on the horizon. Dozens, hundreds, possibly more black shapes are closing in. The only thing even barely slowing them down are the unlucky ponies too slow to get out of the way being toyed with.

"Close your eyes, honey," Ripe Soil tells Weed Sickle.

"RUN!" Mirage screams. He doesn't have a plan other than to get the hay away from the incoming tide. The army must have screwed something up, maybe they didn't have enough time, maybe they didn't consider the warning he sent to be serious enough... or maybe it didn't matter at all.

After initial reluctance and confusion, a pair Spring's Hunters take each of the ponies on their backs, and flee as fast as they can. Outrunning other Corrupted does not seem to be the problem. However, the darkness of the other Queen's influence taking the Empire's streets over spreads faster, and soon the group has to avoid more Corrupted being born straight from the shadows all around.

"How is this possible?" Mirage, balancing on the Hunters' backs is looking around, "Spring!"

"Much power. Infinite," she answers. That's all she can gather from the situation. The pressure of the Queen's power grows drastically without slowing down in the slightest. The Corrupted, however, feel strange - incomplete. The Queen somehow got hold of nigh-endless amount of energy, but has no need for a real hive anymore. The Corrupted around are just hollow husks, extensions of Queen's will without any of their own. Something catches her attention before she can formulate a coherent answer, "Pink shield where go?"

The barrier signalling safety for everypony, the thing every Imperial citizen learned to instinctively ignore faded right in front of their eyes almost without being noticed. It dawns on all of them - the darkness is spreading too fast, and the shield that could have at least kept Corrupted INSIDE while ponies evacuated is gone.

There is nowhere to run.

During the mad dash, Mirage was navigating the group south, as running north behind the barrier would only lead to them freezing to death and starving in some blizzard. That led them towards the escape route which could in the worst case mean they would avoid that and go south. With Spring's protection they might find a safe place somewhere in the woods. Now, though, the plan is gone.

"Spring, can you fight?" Mirage asks, jumping down from the Hunters' backs.

"Bad plan," she shakes her head, "Too many."

"You ate some of them and got stronger before, didn't you?"

Spring ponders the idea for a second, then a Huntress walks over to Mirage and kisses him, not stopping despite his struggling.

"What's going on?" Plow barks at her.

"Memory take combat training," she explains and redirects the flow of knowledge gained from the Huntress to the others. She can analyze it later, now the warriors need to grow and gain reflexes and muscle memory which is not theirs. Every single Hunter and Huntress summons a black spear and assume a defensive position. Mirage, allowed to breathe again, just stares in shock. Spring yells at him to be heard over the growling of the approaching horde, "LEAD!"

She can understand, she can relay orders.

Mirage barks few defensive pointers and the first of hundreds of Corrupted are speared and slashed to bits by sharp tentacles Spring's Hunters are using in a surprising combination of pony and Corrupted combat strategy. Spring's hooves, melded with the crystal streets, pulsate as the biomass of the fallen is absorbed by her and rearranged for good use.

She nourishes her small group, but she needs more subjects to even slow the attackers who seem to be coming indefinitely. There is no way for her to create different personalities or detailed minds in the chaos, so she clones some of her hive's members with the overflow of stolen energy. Out of sheer desperation, she uses what DNA she stole via contact with Mirage to create his Corrupted copy.

"Uh, hi," the Crystal Guard jumps away from his black doppleganger. It doesn't talk, only grows a spear from his leg and joins the defenders. As Spring focuses, the ring of her hive expands, allowing Mirage to only watch in case an enemy breaks through and attacks the ponies or Spring and yell relevant orders.

Spring reaches her limit. At the moment, more than twenty of her Hunters is beyond her reach, so she focuses solely on keeping the excess energy flowing into them to keep them healthy.

The enemy tide seems to finally understand that breaking through is out of the realm of possibility, and back off into a swarming circle, leaving empty space around the defenders.

"Okay, are they trying to starve us? That seems to be the logical next step," Mirage recalls his lessons of military strategy.

"No," Spring shakes.

No, the street trembles.

*Thud*

*Thud*

*Thud*

A building-sized bull-like Corrupted, all bulging muscle and armor walks down the long street, absorbing the lesser Corrupted he squashes.

The mindless horde only takes it, as they have no self-preservation instinct or will. Their only role is to not allow the defenders to escape, and to feed the stomping colossus.

"What the fuuuu-?" Mirage's mouth is closed mid-word by Soil's hoof.

"Foals present."

*Thud*

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRG!"

the colossus roars, cracking glass in all the windows around.

Temperature suddenly drops so much Mirage can see his breath crystallizing in the air.

The horde's attention turns towards something else as an explosion near the titan clears a wide circle from the Corrupted.

All Mirage can see are two dots, one black and one white, staring the gigantic creature down.

"I gotta try making this when I get back to Ponyville," the black one whistles in admiration.

"Abomination..." the white one snarls.

Comments

[Wasko736]

In next chapter: HAMMER TIME!

[Anonymous Critic]

Mirage stares. Then he gets the dumbest idea any pony ever had including those asking 'Why did this pineapple give me a wedding ring?'. But hey, this day has sucked for him enough, why shouldn't he let the curse spread around a little? He recalls an elderly lady berating him when he was looking for a job.

"I can take you to the employment office. You are SUUUURE to find something to do there."

Oh you are just a little sadist, aren't you?

[Anonymous Critic]

"If the other Queen actually attacks the Empire, I'm joining her."

Hah!

[Anonymous Critic]

"My name is Ripe Soil," an earthpony mare followed by a positively huge stallion introduces herself politely, "and this is my husband Ready Plow."

So... many... innuendos...

[Anonymous Critic]

"Ok-ok-okay," Ripe Soil looks around and presses her side against Plow's, "Weed Sickle, come here!"

...

"Hey, you said that one right!" he smiles, points to himself again, "Wheat Sickle," then touches the Queen again, "Spring."

[Anonymous Critic]

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRG!"

Blackie? Is that you?

[Two_Madmans]

"Fat bad?" Spring tilts her head, focuses, and her torso shifts towards more muscular and thinner one.

Nah, not so. Well, it is for your health, but i'm sure there a bunch of people who can be interested.
And considering what I know about Corrupted they are probably immune to diseases.

"I gotta try making this when I get back to Ponyville," the black one whistles in admiration.

"Abomination..." the white one snarls.

All team assembled

[Teraunce]

I really hope they all survive. I know that's a futile hope with Nameless Narrator writing this but I can still hope.