Imbalanced: New Age

by Nameless Narrator

Chasing a Dream: Manehattan

[Blazing's Entry]

One might wonder, and I did, how the corruption affected different things. Trees, plants, bugs, hydras, bees, dogs, cats, everything other than ponies. The answer is - not too much, actually. Harmony's wave of death, which is what Corrupted were supposed to be, was aimed at the destruction of pony race, those who had stopped him before. The transformation of the landscape into the various tainted biomes was just a side-effect of Corrupted attempting to survive and adapt. Species possessing higher intelligence got hit hard, and those of lower intelligence like household pets, hydras, manticores got more aggressive and tougher as well. However, Corrupted being the pinnacle of survival and conquest, the other creatures had to hide in out of the way places. Also, I doubt corruption could make gnats even more annoying than they already are.

Plants are just dumb plants, not much to say about it. Other than the weird species of carnivorous flytrap which shoots out wines at everything bigger than birds flying even up high, it's all pretty much normal, although it tastes a little different and eating it can taint you slightly if overdone. The flytraps are definitely cool, though. Their vines are extremely adhesive, they produce numbing agents, and when they catch prey a bulb under the main 'mouth' opens, releasing a scent alluring to Corrupted who then do whatever they want with the caught prey.

I know I'm just writing away my growing worries, but let me.

I've passed over ten caravans in past eight days, and the last one told me Manehattan is just ahead. I should soon leave the forests and enter Manehattan flatland. I'm almost at the end of my road, and I'm dreading the final encounter.

One last thing, the Corruptor is getting restless. Thankfully, she didn't try anything whenever I was asleep, but I feel her shifting around my body more and more. It's not that big a deal, I just wonder if it means she's about to try something again. The good thing is that after the first caravan passing by almost attacked me, assuming I was a Corrupted due to my bodysuit, I tried thinking about different images of clothes, and the Corruptor eventually got the idea and transformed into a simple black robe. The hood is very helpful, because I have no idea how many ponies know about the bounty on my head. The letter stated that it wasn't a general knowledge due to not wanting to cause widespread carnage, but I need to be cautious.

Recovering from the use of true death took me few days, and I'd like to avoid doing that preferrably forever, but I know it's still there if I am desperate enough to need it. How many uses I have before even that stolen power runs out I do not know.

Oh well, it all ends today.

[End Entry]

---

Walking down a much better maintained road than the one from Vanhoover, I can see the forest grow thinner and thinner. However, the sight of a demolished caravan wagon blocking my path coupled with widespread signs of battle and blood splattered everywhere around the area tells me I'm not out of the woods yet, metaphorically and literally. There are no bodies, though, and the untouched crates inside the wagon make it clear that this was not a bandit attack.

Crack.

I bolt forwards, not even bothering with an attempt to fight. I've learned my lesson. Passing through the site of the attack, I telekinetically grab a two simple longswords, one lying in the dirt and one lodged in a tree. I hate using weapons, I believe they put power into the hooves of those who don't have their own and thus don't have the mental discipline not to abuse them. However, I used to be really good at dual wielding. I'm not a killer, no matter what, and I have to believe that.

The tracing spell shows I'm being rushed at by three enormous creatures, each taller than Celestia and almost as broad as Void. Beaks, talons, paws, wings, feathers. Corrupted griffons. Despite Desert Shade's description, I couldn't really grasp how threatening the lumbering titans really were until now.

Okay, if I gallop like crazy, possibly drop my bags, I might get close enough to Manehattan for somepony to notice and help. My body stops, and lurches backwards.

"OWWWWWW!" I moan at the pain from my backside.

I am flung into the trees by the roadside as a griffon grabs my tail and swings me in the air. I recover faster than expected, but adrenaline and blind panic does that to a pony. The hulks behind me aren't that agile between bushes and trees, but that also means I can't head out towards the flat and inviting grassland.

An eagle's screech inches behind me makes my hair stand up, and I roll forward just in time to feel a swing of talons pass by.

"Huh..." I jump back up. The griffon's claws got stuck in an enormous tree as wide as I am if I spread my wings. The other two are in tow and about to lunge at me as well.

Think, think, think. Can't run, can't fight. They are dumb, stupidly strong, and less agile than normal Corrupted.

I run around the tree, kicking the stuck griffon in the process. As his hind legs, tail, back tentacles, and wings start to flail like mad, the other griffons following me trip over him and end in a ball of death and rage.

Trio of powerful screeches make me involuntarily freeze, and my Corruptor clothing tightens around me, forming a second skin. Thankfully, it leaves my head free.

I move-

No, I am moved clumsily to the side despite my paralyzed stupor to avoid a pouncing griffon. The foreign pressure around my legs fades as I take control again.

"Thanks, Suitie," I mutter, running yet again around the tree to prevent the griffons from gaining speed or jumping.

I really must be getting lucky with the Corrupted. My living snuggie just saved my life.

Temporarily.

Alright, alright, think!

I freeze again with my back to the tree just as the griffon comes around to view and swipes at my head on instinct. Ducking down, I am showered with wood and realize the damn thing just sliced off a good chunk of a tree possibly older than entire Manehattan.

A desperate idea comes to mind. I just need them to repeat this few times over. Many times over.

Thankfully, as I bow my head down to avoid yet another swing while circling around the tree and kicking the increasingly furious stuck griffon over and over, I hear a loud crack.

Just a liiiiiiittle more!

I get into the groove. Run around, duck under a swipe, kick the stuck one whose flailing trips up at least one of the others. This way I always have to deal with one of them at most, and their bird brains can't comprehend that one could actually just wait and kill me in a matter of seconds. The comedic circling around finally ends when I stop running, and pull with my mind at the enormous tree with most of its trunk at my head-height gradually ripped out by the griffon talons.

As the tree starts keeling over, the stuck griffon finally pulls free, and the entire trio lunges as one at me standing still. With a darting look upwards, I start galloping under the falling tree, pandemonium of breaking branches and cracking trees above me. At the last second, at least according to my ears, I change direction to the left, and...

...am whipped by branches and buried in leaves.

I'm lying on my back, stuck underneath a thick piece of wood, and I can't pull free. The good thing is that I hear groaning and gurgling from the main trunk which means my gambit worked to some degree.

The netting of branches nearby moves, revealing one griffon who pulls himself out with his talons, completely ignoring the ripping off of his hind leg still stuck under the trunk. On all threes, he starts dragging himself towards me, beak open.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap!" I struggle under the branch, and start hacking at it with my one remaining liberated levitating sword, "Too slow, too slow, too slow..."

Mumbling to myself in panic, I hack at the griffon instead in blind hope of slowing him down. He just grabs it with his talons, and no amount of my mental leverage can move it. He keeps gurgling, fury in his red eyes growing with each drag of his talons towards me.

Suddenly, I'm free.

I have no time to ponder the black goo melting a chunk of the branch off where it was weighing me down. Checking if my bags are still on my back, I get back on all fours and run slash limp the hay away as fast as I can. I don't think there's any internal bleeding, but my entire barrel hurts like blazes.

What would a Corruptor want as a thank you gift for saving my life? A life-size pony-shaped cake maybe?

Crack.

"Oh heck no!" I turn my head.

The remaining griffon's leg is growing back as it gains speed on the working three, running at me. Still, at least for now I can go faster.

I run, wind whistling in my ears and adrenaline dulling the pain all over. Back on the road. Straight forward.

The towering skyscrapers of Manehattan are on the horizon, so the city can't be more than an hour or two away. I must be close to some farmland or something. Manehattan can't exist on imported food only. I'm almost out of the forest.

Talons wrap around my hind leg and stop me mid-movement, I trip, and the ball of me and the griffon rolls several pony lengths away. Of course I end up under him. I buck up, but the griffon is too tough and heavy to move this easily.

He opens his beak to rip my throat, and...

Ping!

...half of his head goes missing.

Ping!

The rest of his head is ripped from his neck.

Quiet but quick steps get closer in matter of seconds as I push the griffon off of me. I panic for a moment as another set of talons grabs my foreleg and pulls me away from the still twitching body, then I realize these talons aren't black and unnaturally long, but just normal brownish-yellow griffon ones.

Flames engulf the corrupted griffon's remains as a firebomb lands in the pile of flesh.

My saviors are a group of seven griffons. One is a female carrying a sniper rifle which is what must have shot the Corrupted's brain out. There's another female barking orders and carrying a spear with strange, silvery tip that can't be steel.

Saved.

I relax, and let my head rest on the ground while gasping for breath.

"Bleh," I sniff as one of the griffons lobs a vial of something acidic onto the burning remains. That thing must be dead five times over, but after almost getting eaten I'm not complaining about overkill.

The spear griffon girl... mare... chick... how do they call themselves? Well, she stands upright atop me, putting one hind leg on my barrel and...

...pulling out a scroll.

Oh fuck no.

"Well well well," she looks at the scroll, at me, at the scroll, at me again, and smiles, "Blonde mane, close. Bronze coat, tainted but check. Alicorn, about all I need. Half a million, eh? You sure don't look worth it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.

"Of course not," she pats my cheek, "Tie him up, we're taking him to Manehattan. I'm not risking cutting his head off and then being told it's not enough of a proof."

A heavily armed griffon ties my legs, wings, gags me, and puts a suppression ring on my horn. These guys know really well how to capture ponies. He slings me over his back, another one takes my saddlebags, and they move out.

But hey, at least I'll get through the rest of the way to Manehattan more than safely.

Or so I think, but apparently fate isn't done with me yet.

As Manehattan comes to view, I see that the entire familiar metropolis is surrounded by high walls with turrets, machine guns, and cannons sticking out. However, the main gate is open, portcullis drawn up, and both ponies and Corrupted are walking in and out without an issue.

Hmm, Des did say that Manehattan was somewhat different, that ponies and Queen-less Corrupted needed to work together to survive and thrive.

A painfully familiar voice yells from behind:

"By my right as a Silver Sun representative, I order you to execute your prisoner!"

Lord -freaking- Heart. And I thought I bashed his skull hard enough in Vanhoover to leave me be. Did the bastard track me all the way here? Admirable dedication, but still - screw you!

Thankfully, the griffons seem to share my sentiment.

"Not happening until I get the bits," replies the female who looks to be the leader. She makes few signs towards her 'bounty hunters' with her talons. I remember something similar from my short time with the Griffon Foreign Legion, and smile as I decipher the meaning.

Heart is getting nopony today.

The griffons fan out around the armored unicorn, leaving me and my carrier behind.

"Did she really just signal to you to shoot the guy if he tries anything?" I whisper.

The griffon raises an eyebrow, and hesitantly nods.

"The order explicitly states to kill him and to cooperate," Heart raises his voice.

"It 'explicitly states'" the griffoness makes talon quotes in the air, "you pompous pokehead, five hundred grand. So how about you bite my furry ass?"

"I have no interest in your gold, mercenary," Heart scowls, "We in the Silver Sun protect the world from darker threats than you can imagine. Execute him here and now, and I will testify in your favor when the question of the reward comes up."

"We are within sight of Manehattan, your Silver Sun is responsible for the bounty. We get him to your place, and then you can do whatever you want with him."

"I cannot allow you to take a deadly alicorn like him into a heavily populated area!" Heart protests.

"Well, he's in my talons, and I'm saying we keep him until we get the money."

"I see," Heart sighs, "Then your greed gives me no choice."

I feel the rush of magic through his body, but I don't stop it like last time. His greatsword swings at crazy speed at the griffoness in front of him, and at the same time a shimmering golden barrier deflects a barrage of projectiles instantly coming from the mercenaries. The griffoness makes a pirouette backwards, narrowly avoiding the swing and grazing Heart's barrier with the tip of her spear which passes through.

Heart's sword glows, and swings. A shockwave of telekinetic energy comes from its blade, passing through a gap in the mercenary front line and...

...I'm rolling on the ground accompanied by a scream from the griffon previously carrying me.

Gunfire, screaming, and clanking of deflected projectiles and weapons drown out everything else. When I recover, I happily discover I still have all my bits, but my carrier lost his foreleg with Heart's hit. The nearest merc throws a small package to the wounded one who opens it with his beak and remaining foreleg.

Something flares in it, and he presses it against his bleeding stump while the smell of charred flesh fills the air. As he's busy not passing out while cauterizing his wounds, I worm my way towards the separated limb. Talons are sharp, right?

Shoving the disgusting foreleg between my own, I start sawing through the rope tying me.

Heart's blade leaves trails of magic in the air, cleaving through weapons attempting to block his strikes. The unicorn himself is blurred, as if there were more of him, which makes it vastly easier to dodge the incoming gunfire. More shockwaves of force emerging from his swinging sword make the griffons using ranged weapons scatter and avoid the strikes by flying, jumping, and rolling.

Aaand, my forelegs are free!

"Hey!" the wounded griffon notices, and no amount of me putting my forelegs together hides the frayed ends of the cut rope.

I control myself and sit there as he runs over, then I ram one hoof into his cauterized stump, and the other straight in his temple. His howl of pain is lost in the sounds of combat, and after one more kick he passes out. Now I can finally pull the suppression ring off of my horn, levitate the griffon's dagger and free myself completely.

I'm sitting in a growing pool of blood.

Not mine, but the griffon's. Me kicking his wound resumed the bleeding.

Looking around, I find the cauterizing package and do what I can with the still hot piece of iron. It's not much, but as I tighten another bandage around his stump the bleeding almost stops.

While Heart is being an absolute beast and occupying six mercenaries, I find my bags between the mercenary belongings strewn all around, and leg it towards the Manehattan gate. The tracing spell I turn on to know if they are chasing me shows Heart noticing and trying to say something, but he has to defend himself under the assault of the griffon leader.

For now, I'm super happy he severely underestimated me in Vanhoover, because this guy really knows how to fight and use combat spells at the same time.

Strangely, nopony is coming to sort out the fight outside the gates, and no pony or Corrupted is interested in slowing my mad rush through the gate and into the nearest alley. Five minutes later, I am somewhere completely else, and nopony will find me in this city.

"Hey, Corruptor thing, Suitie or whatever. I need the robe and a hood again," I focus on the closest Corrupted mind. As I walk through the narrow street hidden in shadows cast by apartment complexes and skyscrapers, my skinsuit turns to a flowing robe the cowl of which I immediately put over my head.

I don't know how Heart or the mercenaries found me or if it was just a blind luck on their part, and partially mine, but I'm not risking anything.

Now... what to do?

I need to get to the Silver Sun headquarters and to Crom, preferrably unnoticed. I'm making a lot of assumptions here, but let's say the Order is still situated in my family's manor. After we rebuilt the Order just under a year before Harmony's return, we knew we might need escape routes due to us being possible targets of pretty much all evil ever. I don't remember many of them, and quite a lot relied on us owning cellars and other buildings throughout Manehattan, but there is one very close to the headquarters. I can check out if the Order is still there on the way.

In the old days, even though Manehattan was such a huge metropolis, one could barely move through the mobs of ponies in the streets. It was a paradise for pickpockets, street vendors, beggars, drug dealers, anypony living off tourism and crowds. Even now, after basically the end of pony world, the city still retains the glamor despite there being only ten or twenty ponies walking around at one time. Why? Because the holes in pony population are filled with griffons and, most of all, Corrupted.

Breeders wearing corsets are standing on street corners waving their tongues seductively at passing ponies. Protectors walking side by side with ponies and griffons in police helmets patrol the long promenades. Hunters are pulling carriages and carts with both ponies and products. This isn't like Ponyville where Corrupted do their mating, sleeping, and only occasionally pony-helping business, and ponies do their farming and things related to normal civilization. In Manehattan, race and species is a secondary concern. First and foremost, all citizens are Manehattenites.

Pretty crazy if you think about it.

I walk by, as innocent as somepony completely covered by a black robe can be in the late afternoon, white walls surrounding the gardens and houses belonging to presumably nobility and high-class citizens. Many of the gates have armed guards of all kinds stationed by them, though no ponies, Corrupted, or griffons wear the armors of Royal, Night, or Hex Guard. That makes me think that while the princesses must be the official rulers of Equestria, this city lives by its own laws and has to take care of itself.

That also means it will be full of mercenaries and private guards looking for money.

My heart warms up and I can't stop a smile as I walk past two young stallions guarding a gate to a very loud piece of land filled with shouting and sounds of battle, something heavily contrasting with the other pieces of property around. The stallions are wearing chainmails covered with tabards depicting a silver sun rising over the horizon.

It's still there. The same place, the same duo of fresher recruits learning how to sleep in their armors and still look threatening. Giving up to the gate guards is a silly idea when I've gotten this far.

I'm home... almost.

Manehattan has a very systematic layout of main streets, which means I can navigate from memory to a small park nearby which offers a small, dark thicket in which foals used to love to play. Also, when I jump on the right spot hidden by trees, I hear a barely perceptible dull thud, and grin. Pushing a nearby rock a little to the side, I dig out a handle covered in dirt and mud, and pull. I almost fail to keep my balance as the secret trap door opens easily without any resistance from rust or old age.

Closing it behind me, I enter a chiseled stone tunnel that could host at most two ponies going side by side. From inside, there is a lever which pushes the fake rock on the surface back onto the trap door. This place is clearly maintaned, which also means I might find somepony guarding it, but that's a problem for future Blazing Light. I don't envy the guy.

I end up in the old wine cellar under the mansion. There is nopony around. The cellar complex is wide, accounting for the storage of weapons, supplies, spare furniture, and everything necessary, but I easily find the stairs up which should lead into the main lobby.

The lobby is an enormous circular room with staircases on the walls leading to the upper floors. The floors are tiled in a black and white chess pattern, there are various vases and small tables with decorations around the circumference, and the two staircases join into a small balcony on the second floor overlooking the whole room. Under the balcony, there is a counter where ponies can ask for keys to their rooms, look for job offers hanging on a pinboard next to it, or generally ask questions. Luckily, the lobby is entirely empty outside of a mare sitting behind the counter. Since it's nearly evening, I suppose most recruits are training outside.

Glaring at the receptionist mare reading some book or a magazine, I inch my way towards the carpeted staircase on my side of the room. The entrance to the cellars is only a pony length or two away, so I'm not risking too much by walking on the tiles. Not daring to breathe too loudly, I crawl up the stairs and onto the balcony.

Now I can finally walk like a normal pony up one more floor, and follow the red carpeting towards Heavy Hoof's old office. If Crom is the leader of the Order these days, it might be his now.

Unimpeded, I stop in front of the wooden door bearing a simple brass plague reading 'Cromach'. No title, nothing but the name. I don't know how long I stand there with hoof raised and about to knock.

However, it is far too long, because I hear a voice I know from the old days. It is precise, slightly distorted in the way of a poorly tuned radio, and says:

"Two entities. A disguised Corruptor. A tainted alicorn resembling a database entry for Blazing Light. Minor divine presence detected. Threat - average. State your name and business, intruder."

I turn towards the voice. It is a silvery grey mechanical unicorn. His slim form consists of grey plates of armor covering biomagical cables serving as muscles and internal infrastructure. A pony head with sharper and thinner muzzle is looking at me, blue, segmented circles of eyes on black background not flinching while I watch the robot. I also know the robot is much smarter than he lets on eventually.

"Don't bother with the 'I am just a talking toaster' speech, Bucket. It's really me," I get ready to jump away in face of a possible barrage of lasers, but none comes, "I need to talk to Crom before you try to shoot my face off."

He tilts his head, walks closer, circles around me with spiral on his horn glowing red.

"You do realize you are not wearing a real robe?" he asks much more normally.

"Yeah, a female Corruptor attacked me and is now scared I'll burn her to death if she separates from my body."

"Intriguing. Your vitals match that of Blazing Light, but your levels of divine power are insignificant, and you are a complete alicorn."

"I-"

"Who was my caretaker before you supposedly died fighting against Harmony?" he interrupts me.

Now that's something I barely remember.

"An earthpony... brown and brown... she used to be some low-ranked grunt in the Royal Guard. Sunrise... no, Dawn! Her name was Dawn. The girl who let Icy Gaze escape from Canterlot dungeons before he became a famous sky pirate, I mean 'an honorable Equestrian citizen owning an airship protection agency'," I chuckle at the memory of a pegasus who made Luna boil every time his name was mentioned.

"Second question," Bucket nods, "Why did you think I would shoot you? We are used to tainted ponies and Corrupted in Manehattan. Does it have something to do with your resurrection? I would assume garbled memories, but your answer clearly proves that is not the case."

"Honestly, Bucket, can I speak to Crom? I've been through a lot and I don't want to repeat myself."

"Cromach is not here," he passes me, opening the door to Crom's office and waving at me to come inside, "He is in the Griffon Empire for," his eyes flicker as he accesses his database, "personal reasons."

"No..." I breathe out.

"I am the head of the Order in his absence. He should be back in about a month, he usually is whenever he goes over there. So, about me shooting your muzzle off..."

And here it is. I levitate the scroll case I stole from Heart out of my bag. Bucket takes it and reads it.

The silence grows longer and I see the robot focus on the scroll letter after letter.

Worried about looking away from Bucket but doing so anyway, I let my eyes wander around the office. Brown walls with darker brown inlay reaching halfway up. Shelves full of binders, locked liquor cabinet that is well-stocked but seemingly nearly unused, a window overseeing the wide lawns where recruits are training... it's as if nothing changed.

Nothing aside from a single entire wall dedicated to a huge pinboard.

There's me, Crom, Chokey, Conney, Straw, Leo, Fortune, Bucket, Heavy, Void, Scream, Magnus, Zephyr, Chronos, Cross, Starlight, Shadowstep, Antares, Walter, Desert Shade, Lyam, Mistake, Guiding, Three, Mana Burn, Twilight, Nightshade, Luna, Celestia, Chrysalis, even Discord, and dozens of other ponies, satyrs, griffons, zebras, all smiling for their individual or group photos.

So many memories, some of which we've been through together, each encapsulated by a field of protective magic keeping the teeth of time away.

Furious stomping from the hall outside barely muffled by the closed door brings me back to reality, eyes watering and wide smile on my face.

Knock knock knock!

The knocker doesn't wait for an answer and the door flies open. Bucket and I look to see...

...lord Heart, covered in blood from blonde head to armored horseshoes, scorch marks all over his platemail, whose blue eyes go wide, pupils turn to pin pricks, and his mouth opens in a silent scream.

Sorta makes sense he would return here to report his failure... I should have seen it coming.

"Youuuuu..." he growls, horn gathering power, "I have followed you from Vanhoover through the damn wildlands. I killed every Corrupted who stood in my way, but at least you left a trail easy to follow. Until Ponyville..." his glowing sword rises in the air, "I spent days trying to sniff you out, and just when I'm on my way back here for more clues... you..."

His mouth opens and closes over and over, sword shaking.

"And why would that be the case?" Bucket asks calmly from behind me.

I sense the flicker of uncertainty in Heart's eyes as he lobs a new scroll case at me instead of presenting it to Bucket. Red glow envelops the steel tube, and the robot levitates it to himself, unscrewing the top and unrolling a second scroll.

He looks up at Heart.

"Lord Crimson Heart. I am absolutely sure you were unbelievably fortunate to have failed in your 'mission'."

"WHAT?!" the unicorn screams, veins throbbing on his neck.

"Because if you had not, and reported your success to sir Cromach," Bucket continues calmly, "I do not believe there would be a single living, magical, Corrupted, or divine being which would ensure your safety."

Crimson Heart's mouth drops open, the glow of his greatsword fading.

"W-what do you mean?" he chokes.

"I am not aware of any order regarding Blazing Light's execution. Until few minutes ago, I was not aware of his return either," Bucket levitates both identical scrolls up and unrolls them, "The seals and sir Cromach's signatures are believably real, but the writing is not even close. As you know, I, and only I to ensure integrity, deal with sending out mass mail whenever sir Cromach only dictates the content."

"I-I-I-" Heart shakes, stuttering.

"There is no order, no reward, nothing," Bucket shakes his head, "The letters are fake. An extremely well-done fake, but fake nonetheless. What is a vastly more threatening thing, however, is that somepony forged our seal and sir Cromach's signature perfectly."

"I... I tried to kill an innocent pony?" Heart whispers to himself.

"Crimson Heart!" Bucket raises his voice. The unicorn looks up at him with horror etched on his face, "Look at the wall behind me," Heart stares at the picture of me, Crom, and Chokey posing for the camera, "Do you now realize how lucky you were?"

"How-" Heart opens and closes his mouth, just staring.

"No matter your history, your lineage, your status, or your previous service," Bucket says firmly, "He would have hunted you down to the darkest depths of the ocean, and would have shown you no mercy."

The unicorn just stands there, paralyzed.

"With that out of the way," Bucket turns to me again, "I officially greet you here in the heart of the Order of the Silver Sun once again, Blazing Light. I know I was not a member while you were alive, but I followed sir Cromach after Canterlot fell to the Corrupted. You are free to rest here, and I believe your old room has been left open."

The weight of Canterlot mountain itself falls from my shoulders.

"As for you, lord Heart-" Bucket is stopped by Heart's raised hoof.

The middle-aged unicorn walks over to me, and bows so low he presses his muzzle into the carpet. He rises a little to allow himself to speak.

"I offer you my protection and service on my honor as a noble and a Silver Sun knight. Let me atone for my wrongdoings, Blazing Light."

"Blazing is looking for sir Cromach," Bucket comments.

"Then allow me to escort you to the Griffon Empire and be your shield until your quest is over," Crimson Heart is still bowing deeply.

"No," I shake my head.

"I understand," he nods and rises, not looking at me and turning to leave, "My failure will linger with me until my end then."

"But I'd like a different kind of service."

"What would that be?" he looks at me, surprised.

"Have you ever heard the term dreamling?"

"I cannot recall."

"They are... important to me. Four of them are living in the ruins of a village called Pine Hills near Ponyville. They have lived there even before corruption came, and protected the inhabitants from Corrupted. Now, they are only starving, lonely, and barely sane creatures who attack every intruder on sight. I would like you to gather enough brave ponies to revive that old logging settlement, and restore the minds of my dreamlings by contact with more than just hostile Corrupted."

I am half expecting him to say something along the lines of it not being a knighty job or whatever, but I'm saying it mostly just to get rid of him. It is what I myself am going to have to do, though. As I thought about it during the trip to Manehattan, I realized the only way to help Guiding recover would be frequent contact with ponies. She needs to be surrounded by life, speech, company who wouldn't shun them for their visage and insanity. It isn't something a spell or something quick would cure, it will take time.

"I will seek whoever I can," Heart doesn't hesitate, much to my amazement, "So, is the goal building a new town?"

I nod, still recovering from his dedication. Did I misunderstand him by considering him a standard unicorn noble?

"When?" he simply asks.

"As Bucket said, I'll be going to the Griffon Empire to find Cromach. When I, or hopefully we, return, then we'll talk about it again."

"Of course," Heart takes a deep breath, "Let me do one thing immediately then. I wish to use my resources to repay you for my deeds by supplying you with all the equipment necessary to travel alone in the Empire including ferry tickets and maps. Unfortunately, I cannot assist you with sir Cromach's location. His visits are secret."

Probably some Black Ops business. Crom must still be in touch with the imperial secret service.

"I can provide directions," Bucket, thank stars, makes it so I'm not going to have to wander the desert and ask every griffon I meet about seeing a big white guy with an axe around, "So I will take care about the travelling documents. You can deal with the common equipment and supplies."

Heart nods, and leaves. Presumably to go shopping.

"In the meantime, I believe you need a rest," Bucket lets out a quiet distorted screech which I recall is his way of chuckling.

"First things first, is Antares or Cross around? I really need a refresh on my combat skill. Being dead for two centuries leaves a pony rusty."

The blue circles in Bucket's black eyes disappear as he blinks with no eyelids.

"Shadowstep's squad left for the Empire about fifty years into the griffon occupation of Manehattan after the onset of corruption. Nopony knows where they are."

"Do you have a sword or a hoof-to-hoof trainer then?"

"There are members of Manehattan police force practicing or teaching with the Order. Some offer hoof-to-hoof combat, but according to my database none would be close to you. As for unicorn swordfighting, there are several experts. Should I assume dual-levitation to still be your preferred method?"

"What can I say? Old habits die hard," I shrug, "Throw somepony nice my way. As I said, I'm not in a good shape. I'm only doing this because as much as I'd like to avoid fighting, it seems to keep finding me."

"I will arrange it. What about the Corruptor wrapped around you? We can likely purge it without harming you. Black clothing will be impractical in the deserts deeper in the Empire anyway."

Feeling the fear as the Corruptor translates some of the sense in Bucket's words, I focus on the image of socks and ask:

"Can you transform into something smaller?"

My black gooey robe thins and splits into four pieces, each wrapping tightly around my leg. I'm going to have to test out asking the Corruptor to grow thicker and harder around my hooves in case of a fight or something.

"This is an interesting anomaly," Bucket whistles.

"You know me, no asskicking unless it's absolutely unavoidable. Plus, I now have clothes that can give me a massage before sleeping."

"You do a lot of asskicking, though."

"Always necessary."

The robot's distorted laughter in my answer.

"When do you wish to depart?" he asks.

"As soon as possible, but I still need some combat practice. The crazy unicorn will take a day or two to gather my stuff, and I guess so will you. Who knows? I might also think of something useful to get while I'm resting. Did you say my old room was still free?"

"Never occupied."

"Then I guess it's time to collapse and hope this all is not just a final dream my head is making up to spare me the pain of the corrupted griffons eating me."

"All my scanners indicate this is at least ninety-seven percent real," Bucket laughs again.

"You forgot the beep boop," I snort as well, "Well, wake me up for breakfast, will you?"

"Of course."

I leave the office while Bucket still examines the scroll I stole from Heart and the second one he took from the griffon mercenaries. I wonder in what shape the unicorn left them...

My old room greets me. Clean, fresh, ready.

Dropping my bags unceremoniously on the floor and collapsing on the bed, I mumble to myself:

"I could use a massage right about now. All over," the Corruptor engulfs me, "Not the head, not the h-mmmphh!" the black goo leaks everywhere, but I realize I'm allowed to breathe normal air and it's not trying to stretch into my lungs or stomach.

She wobbles, kneads, and massages, somehow managing to lick my ears and even suckle on my tongue. With her focusing on my nethers, I'm about to threaten her, but...

...ah screw it, she deserves her reward for helping me with the transformed griffons.

Lost between exhaustion and tides of pleasure all over, I finally pass out.

I'm safe.

Sort of.

There is still someone who wants me dead and is paying a lot of money, but it's not Crom. If it's not Crom, then when I find him, whoever is hunting me will recieve some serious, and completely necessary as even Bucket would have to admit, asskicking.

---

Four days later I board a ferry headed east across the ocean, waving from the deck at Heart and Bucket standing down on the pier. Wearing a light, resilient, white robe to protect me against the sun which even during springtime in Equestria is mercilessly scorching the Empire, I am rested and ready for the next part of my journey. I've got supplies, decent amount of money from the Order coffers, and directions to a small town called Drachenberg on the norther border of the Great Southern Desert in central Empire. Time to find Crom, rebuild Pine Hills, bring light back to Guiding, and make this new world into a place worth living in.

Griffon Empire, here I come!

Author's Note:

The first chapter is finished!

Is anyone still around and not asleep?
Is Crom really in Drachenberg and why is that the case?
Will there be a happy reunion?
What about the griffon mercenaries still hunting Blaze for the fake bounty?
Who is behind it?
Without Mistake, will Blaze go insane from Void's overwhelming reservoir of memories?
Will Suitie McSuitface gradually devour Blaze?

Comments

[Razjel]

Good story so far. I have no idea why more people haven't read this, or even left a comment here. I hope you still write more chapters for this story. If not, well, my bad. See you around

[Ice Justice]

Drat, bamboozled again. Though now I wonder how bucket would interact with the corrupted if interfaced.

[Two_Madmans]

Breeders wearing corsets

Thats what I should see

There is still someone who wants me dead and is paying a lot of money, but it's not Crom.

Interesting twist.

[Anonymous Critic]

"Of course not," she pats my cheek, "Tie him up, we're taking him to Manehattan. I'm not risking cutting his head off and then being told it's not enough of a proof."

Well... at least I'm finally going to get some answers...

[Anonymous Critic]

Feeling the fear as the Corruptor translates some of the sense in Bucket's words, I focus on the image of socks and ask:

So it can understand... at least a little bit... or at least learn to...

[Blewfire]

The funny things is before I read the chapter with Misses Suits, the Corrupted. I had read a changeling fic that had done much the same thing. And I was asking myself why anyone hadn't thought using the Corrupted like that. Then I read these chapters and like never mind.

[Nameless Narrator]

9891759
Generally it is because only Corruptors could do it, and even queens consider those guys weird, and on top of everything Corruptors make you go nuts the fastest.

[Shadowshame]

I think that corruptor might also be having an existential crisis after all it just had a near death experience and as far as I know from corrupted lands it’s near impossible for those things to die.