Imbalanced: New Age

by Nameless Narrator

Chasing a Dream: SAFE?!

[Blazing's Entry]

It's been a week since the caravan attack, and I'm still around, neither eaten nor twisted, just bored out of my mind. I've met one more caravan, although smaller with only two wagons, heading towards Vanhoover. Sadly, they only passed me with a greeting and reassuring me that I was still going the right way and there weren't any unusual trouble.

My tattered robe and thinning saddlebags were enough to dissuade any bandit watching me if there even was any. As for Corrupted, there haven't been any more incidents. Whether they have learned that attacking ponies on the road could mean pain or the areas closer to central Equestria were a bit safer, I don't know. I'm not complaining in any case.

The voice in my head has been silent. I don't know whether that's a good thing, but I would have appreciated some company. My wounds are definitely getting better, but I'm almost out of bandages and desinfectants. Also, living on dried food sucks. I tried to chew on some tainted grass, but it wasn't too helpful. Still, it was better than nothing. I guess if one eats the wild greenery only occasionally, the taint isn't too threatening. At least I'm not feeling crazy or horny, more than usual that is.

The good thing is that according to Hammerhoof and my map, I should be arriving in the Separated territory tonight, and I might even get to the fortified inn.

[End Entry]

---

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccccccc-" I scream, galloping forward as fast as I can.

Three Hunters, one behind me and one on each side, follow me playfully, swiping at me or whipping their tentacles. I know I was told not to run from them, but these guys pounced as soon as they saw me.

"Haaah- haaaah-" gasping for breath, I spot a brief glimpse of thicker whiteness in the distance. Normally, the trees and everything else are just white silhouettes, this was a filled, angular bush or something, completely white.

That gives me more strength than an incoming slap of a tentacle against my behind.

Closer and closer.

The Hunters aren't going for the kill, just enjoying the chase, but we all know what happens if I stop or when I eventually collapse. They push, hit, scratch, and grin when I move aside to dodge a faked blow.

Wind whistles in my ears, fighting against roaring of flowing blood. I've never been a good runner, no matter any training and harsh experiences I've been through, and death didn't change that.

The scenery turns white, and for a second I believe I made it...

...then I trip.

Talons wrap around my neck as I drop and roll, and a Hunter starts dragging me away from the road. I sink my teeth into his foreleg, but it's like biting rubber steel. He just shakes me a bit and continues, undisturbed. We stop in a clearing a little off the beaten path. His mates surround me, and the talons firmly locked around my neck let me go.

I gasp for breath, vision spell flickering from time to time. About a minute of me couching my lungs out later, I'm finally in the mental shape to realize I haven't been mauled yet. The Hunters are standing around, but that's the extent of it. Are they waiting for something?

Yes, they are.

Few moments later, I hear cracking of branches and something big slowly breaks through the wall of bushes. A nearly Protector-sized stallion with long, thick tongues hanging out of his mouth and drooling viscous strings splattering on the grass lumbers towards me on his five legs. His back tentacles are much thicker than normal, and drip fluid just like his mouth.

Uh, what?

I focus a little better, and realize why the Hunters were waiting. As Desert Shade told me, small packs of Corrupted often gather around Breeders. Until now, the only Breeder I've seen was the female back at the burial mound. She was nice. This must be the male counterpart.

He is big, and I have zero doubt that if he gets his hooves on me I'm done for. Des said that aside from Corruptors and Queens, Breeders possess the most tainting influence. This close, I have no trouble believing it. His strong, almost physical scent attacks my nose, immediately conjuring memories of long time ago involving me, Chokey, Crom, bed, table, cuffs, leashes, delicious griffon and batpony sweat, hours of rutting... mess... heat... sticky taste...

I shake my head, trying to breathe with my mouth. I was a second away from shoving my muzzle towards the dripping tree trunk between his hind legs and drinking straight from the tap.

"Whoah, I heard about zebras being endowed, but this takes a cake."

Me being attracted to both mares and stallions really isn't helping here. Not that I'm in a position to choose. How much I misjudged the Breeder's strength I realize only as I'm shoved backwards so hard I land on my back. He takes position above me, blocking my view of the sky and anything other than his belly, enormous member so slick and massive it looks like a waterfall of flesh, and heavy, hanging sack behind it.

The smell... oh stars the heavenly scent... I could drink it forever...

And I will if I don't keep it together. It didn't work on a Hunter, but kicking a Breeder in his balls might do the trick. I'll die immediately afterwards as they rip me to pieces in rage, but I'll score at least one point. Crunching my abdominal muscles, I make a perfect U, and kick up like a loaded spring with all my might.

See you in another two hundred years.

My body freezes just as the frog of my hoof brushes against the boiling hot, soft flesh of the Breeders equipment. Sparks light my nerves up, all telling me how much of a waste it would be to destroy something perfect, something life giving. The single touch told me perfectly how much I need it to exist, to fill me, to lather me in its juice. True happiness and fulfillment is within reach, and it's sticky. All I need to do is submit.

I open my mouth wide, ready and willing.

Blur.

Sky.

Impact.

Screeching.

Roaring.

Blood everywhere.

"Huh?" I'm still having trouble recovering from the haze of arousal bordering on insanity.

A Hunter held by something coiled around his barrel flies around too fast to see properly and splatters against a tree in a shower of gore. I turn my head just to see the Breeder's skull being crushed to paste by a humongous unicorn...

...with white veins on his legs.

Another Separated Protector, and this one is not alone. Two smaller and leaner Separated Hunters pin the final survivng Corrupted and with a quick bite change the surviving part. The Corrupted bodies boil and melt, draining into the ground and leaving no marks other than destroyed flora that anything has ever happened here.

The unicorn Protector walks over and bows.

"T-thanks..." I stutter.

He nods, and points his horn towards the road.

"Safe," he says, slowly but in much more controlled fasion than the other one.

The trio take positions around me with the unicorn in the lead. This Protector is even larger than the one I met near Vanhoover. With horn and everything, he might be as big as I remember Celestia being. Every muscle on his body is defined to perfection, and he looks like a warrior.

When we get back on the marked path, he points his hoof in the direction where I meant to go.

"Crystal. Tree. Inn. Close."

"Yeah, that's where I was heading. Thank you."

He smiles, nods, and gallops off with one of the Hunters in tow. The other one stays by my side.

"Shouldn't you be going with your boss?" I ask him, smirking.

He just tilts his head, and nudges me forward.

"Okay, okay."

Well, company is always appreciated. The Separated Hunter follows me as I look around, just a little in awe of the new, different forest.

The look of this place makes me miss real sight. It must look breathtaking. Trees and bushes angular as if made of shards of ice, fresh breeze unlike the stale air deeper in corrupted forests, and the crunching of rime and grass underneath my hooves are refreshing and help me clear my head from all the remnants of the Breeder's temptation. It is definitely colder than anywhere else, but in a revitalizing way, like on a summer morning after a night of rain.

Okay, one thing Separated don't get - distance. The chase happened around noon, and the sun is down now that I finally see a pony-made construction again. A chunk of forest has been cleared out to make space for at least ten caravan wagons at the same time and a wide, three-story building surrounded by a courtyard with high walls and a portcullis.

The Hunter nuzzles my neck out of nowhere, and trots off deeper into the forest, having done his escort job.

The portcullis is pulled up as I approach, and two armored ponies greet me.

"Welcome, traveller, to the Crystal Tree Inn."

"Uh, hello. I'm on my way to Ponyville and I'd like to stay for the night."

"Just ask inside, and don't be afraid of Cottonball. "

"Cottonball?"

"The... waitress," he chuckles.

"Oookay, thanks."

Reassured by the noises of any lively tavern in history, I open the door and let myself into a smoke-filled, loud, and hot bar room. At least fifty ponies are sitting around in the main room which looks as if it could easily take another hundred, drinking, chatting, or playing cards.

"WELCOME TO CRYSTAL TREE INN, ENJOY YOUR STAY!" says a high-pitched voice followed by a cloud of dust left by somepony moving too fast to be healthy.

I look down at a gorgeous, shapely mare just slightly smaller than me with curly and poofy mane and tail.

"Hello, miss-"

"Cottonball!"

"Miss Cottonball, do you have a free room for the night?"

"Room yes, for free definitely not," she giggles.

Something is off about her. Her proportions are too godlike, too inviting, she is crazy quick, her smile is a little too wide and full of sharp teeth, and the socks she's wearing almost cover thin white lines on her legs.

"Forgive me for asking, miss, but are you a Separated?"

"Through and through, sir."

"You speak very well."

"Thanks!" she smiles, "I've learned from the ponies passing here all the time. I can speak pony, old griffon, Crystal Empire dialect, and a bit of minotaur. It took me a long time, due to these."

She sticks her sharp, thin tongue out, then another, and another.

"Whoa, that's a lot more than I use, both tongues and languages. Very impressive."

She laughs.

"COTTON!" comes a gruff voice from the bar, almost drowned in the sea of background noise.

"Thanks!" Cottonball boops my nose, "I always love to chat with newcomers, but it's really busy here tonight. If you need a room, go ask Fresh Linen down the hall, she has the keys. Maybe I'll see you later," she winks, turns around, and blitzes towards the bar where a fresh tray of drinks is waiting for her. I can't help sneaking a peek at her whippy tail not covering her hanging teats whatsoever. I'm definitely not the only pony looking.

A Separated Breeder by the name of Cottonball serves drinks in a caravan inn. Going by her deeper and evil chuckle whenever a pony slaps her behind as she passes by, she might be doing a lot more around here.

I shrug. Who am I to comment?

Torn between getting some fresh food and talking to her further, or securing a bed first, I give in to exhaustion and leave the bar room behind me. An earthpony mare with a piece of cloth as a cutie mark is sitting behind a counter reading a newspaper. She looks up when I stop by to read a framed note on the wall with the room prices.

I quickly catch the newspaper headline:

Princess and the Beast? Nobles call for ban on Corrupted access to Canterlot.

A simple, single-bed room is more than enough for me. Sadly, I still have to lug myself up to the top floor before I can comfortably slam my face into a soft mattress and pass out.

Sweet, sweet sleep.

I open my eyes. Not that it makes any difference, but habit wins again, flawless victory.

Quickly dealing with morning business...

... no, screw it. I'm ordering a hot bath. Cleaning and bandaging later.

Alright, start again.

After the bath, I pack my bags and walk downstairs to the bar room. Unlike in the evening, there are only about five ponies sitting and drinking -my nose wrinkles- coffee. Crystal Tree Inn either must be extremely well supplied, or I'm much closer to Canterlot and Ponyville than I though from the map.

My map reading isn't the best, I freely admit. I'm getting a ton of practice, though.

"What'll it be?" asks Cottonball, chipper as usual when I sit on the barstool by the counter.

I am not a morning pony, and even after a bath my face must look like that of a punched pug.

A cup of coffee lands in front of me without me saying anything.

"I was going to ask for tea... but I might need this. Got any sugar?"

"On it!" a thin tentacles grabs a single packet from the counter and slides it towards me.

"Grab about... three more, please."

I also hate coffee and refuse to drink it without enough sugar to make the spoon start to melt.

"Here you go."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

"Not much to do in the morning," she shrugs, "Caravans either leave early to make the most out of daylight, or they sleep until noon if they need to recover."

"I wish I could sleep till noon," I sigh, "but life doesn't wait for me."

"Awww, such a grump."

"So I've been told... many many times."

"Breakfast?"

"Anything that even remotely resembles a salad, please."

She trots off, returning with a bowl of semi-fresh vegetables. I don't mind the slightly smudged shape of my food. After almost two weeks of eating crackers and dried supplies it feels like ambrosia.

"So," she sits down next to me, "We don't get that many lone travellers around. Most ponies prefer to be in groups, even if our King's territory is fairly safe."

"Sadly, I had the misfortune to stumble upon the 'fairly' part," I mutter inbetween crunching leaves of lettuce.

"Oh my," she puts a hoof to her mouth, "Anything serious?"

"Nothing a good sleep wouldn't cure," I scowl in pain as I pat my wounded bits, "Maybe several nights..."

"Fresh Linen can treat wounds if you need, or if it's too serious I can... you know..."

"Huh? No, I'm getting better I think. But... you know... what do I know?"

"As a Separated, I can heal you easily... just... you know... the tainted side effects."

"As much as I could use some tentacles to slap a guy or two, I'm getting used to dealing with deeper cuts and bruises."

"Heheh, too bad. I've never met a real alicorn before. I was wondering how you taste."

"That sounded very unsettling. Plus, how the hay do you know through the robe? Is it that easy to spot?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean... it's just that you ponies distinguish each other by different characteristics than we do. I wasn't saying I would eat you or anything."

I ruffle her mane that has the same amout of give as cotton candy, but none of the stickiness. Well, only the usual Corrupted slick and stick.

"I know. I've met few of you Separated and you've never been anything but good to me."

"Aww that's sweet, thank you. And don't worry," she lowers her voice, "Only a Corrupted or a Separated would know. You smell different, the size is a little bit off, small details ponies don't care about."

I breathe out.

"I mean the thanks, your patrol saved me from being assbanged by Corrupted just on the border of your forest."

"Yes," she nods, "Sometimes they do enter our home, but we can send them back quickly. It happens less and less, but I'm still sorry you had to deal with it."

"Don't worry about it," I wave it off, finally feeling the pick up effects of the coffee crane, "Say, do you sell supplies for the road here? I need to make it to Ponyville and if I eat any more pressed hay bars I'll be crapping clouds of plaster."

She snorts, a good sign she's heard worse language. Oh yeah, I sure am a charmer.

"Of course. Fruit, vegetables, pastries, juices, pretty much anything. We don't sell anything that keeps them fresh, though, so it won't last for you. We keep everything in enchanted cellars underground."

I refill my sadlebags to the brim, just in case Ponyville proved to be less than friendly. After all, the last time I saw Twilight I was fighting a god, and the time before I tried to kill her and nearly succeeded. The chances of her meeting and remembering me are close to none, but it wouldn't be the first time I got kicked in the balls by probability.

Ready to set out, Cottonball stretches to my ear and whispers:

"If you're around at some point, feel free to visit. We are the friendliest inn around, and I still want to know how an alicorn tastes."

Like very, very nervous sweat at the moment, lady.

Leaving the outer walls of the inn, I'd like to think she wanted to bed me because of me, but I'm kinda sure it really was just the alicorn thing and that having sex with her would pretty much be equivalent to saying hello. She speaks a bunch of languages, though. When these Separated want focus on something they go hard.

The roads should be safe this deep in central Equestria.

My hair stands on edge as soon as I think that. Tempting fate is not a great survival trait.

Good.

I feel pressure from ahead. Not physical, not even magical, just... crushing willpower.

A solitary Sep- no, Corrupted is walking through the Separated territory, unbothered. She looks like a Protector. Bigger than me, but not by too much, but her walk is a combination of the elegant Hunter prowl and complete certainty that nothing, absolutely nothing can stand in her way. Dark mane shimmering with silver flows down her neck, and her bladed whip of a tail flicks around like a cat's.

For the first time in weeks, my divine power flares on instinct and colours return to my world. I don't know why I'm reacting like this, but my legs shake even without her switching up her prowling, sexy gait.

My gold and pink flames envelop my forelegs, forming taloned gauntlets. Sparks and embers blaze through my coat, forming armor and covering all my wounds in an instant. I know I'm not at full strength, but I've finally found the spark of immortal power I knew was still deep down.

Then why the hell am I terrified to my bones?

She raises her head, eyes, black sclera and beastly yellow irises wide as if Hearth's Warming came early.

"Oh, a new alicorn!" she purrs and gives me an evil, hungry grin, "I've always wanted my own one."

Comments

[Two_Madmans]

Torn between getting some fresh food and talking to her further, or securing a bed first, I give in to exhaustion and leave the bar room behind me. An earthpony mare with a piece of cloth as a cutie mark is sitting behind a counter reading a newspaper. She looks up when I stop by to read a framed note on the wall with the room prices.

I'm kinda confused. When he can see with real eyes and magic? And I was thinking his magic vision don't allow to see CMs.

"If you're around at some point, feel free to visit. We are the friendliest inn around, and I still want to know how an alicorn tastes."

Accept it, Blaze, when else will you have an opportunity to make a love square?

[Anonymous Critic]

9610080
When his divine power is active he can see colors.