The First Steps
Hey all. Surprise, another chapter! I was travelling a lot this weekend and due to a lack of other distractions I got a lot of work done on my phone using Gdocs. My phone's been acting up so if something is misspelled, something doesn't flow right or so on please tell me and I'll fix it. Went with an odd direction with this chapter and included more 'past' sequences. Tell me what you think of those parts, I want to explain the full backstory to his past along with the current story in brief 'flashbacks' of sorts and as theses are a bit different than the normal story I was wondering if they were still as engaging.
Anyways, hope you enjoy it.
-LPC, Legendary Pony Catcher.
Some songs I've been listening to while writing.
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/weeknd/starboy.html
I'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3EEaPj-5qs
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/blocparty/ratchet.html
I said make it count
No lyrics, but amazing imo.
The snow cascaded upon the once vibrant garden, the stone statues and once functioning ornate fountain blanketed in thick sleet. The covered walkways surrounding the spacious grove housed fur and armour clad knights bearing witness to the young lords of the estate who were in the midst of an intense ‘duel to the death’ with uncharacteristic smiles etched onto their grizzled features.
“Die you wretched warrior!” Jeered the ‘evil, malicious liche as he threw snowballs and balls of slushy ice at the brown haired, childish and nimble ‘warrior’ who laughed valiantly.
“No, you stupid butt!” She cried back as she jumped behind a dying bush. Her fake, wooden armour clack and clanked loudly while her long, orangish brown ponytail threatened to snag on a loose branch as she tried to sneak around the vicious spell caster, who struggled to keep his brown scarf and hood on in the roaring winter winds.
“Your silver tongue only serves to anger me! You can't hide from-hey, where’d you go?” He began to belt out with dramatic flair as he jumped around the side of the bush and found nothing but disturbed piles of snow.
“Eat shield evil doer!” His worthy adversary demanded as she jumped out of the bushes, painted green and shoddily built shield first. She charged down her opponent, smashing him down into the snow and dead leaves beneath them and trapped him under her shield and mock armour.
“Hey, no fair! That’s against the rules!” Alistair cried out in protest as he struggled under his sister’s shield and smacked off her homemade helmet.
“And so are snow covered rocks but who threw them? Now then, eat fireballs!” Aurora demanded with a cruel laugh as she began shoveling pristine and dirtied snow in equal measures onto her squirming brother’s pale face. A few of the guards laughed in spite of their training but ceased as a young, beautiful, silver haired woman adorned in a fine, fur lined garnet dress appeared from the shadows. She hid her snickers behind a slender hand.
“Now, now, is that anyway for a brave knight to treat their fallen foes?” The older woman mused as she approached them, her footsteps silent atop the snow covered cobbled path.
“When your foe is a giant bully, yes.” Aurora defended as she got off her twin brother, who threw a heap of dirtied snow at her fake armour.
“I would’ve won if you hadn't cheated…” He grumbled as he wiped off the excess snow on his sodden trousers.
“And she wouldn't have charged you had you not tried to pelt her with rocks; be thankful you did not harm her.” She cautioned, stunning the two of them as she somehow knew.
“Oh don't give me that look, we could hear you two arguing on the other side of the castle...Aurora darling, the cook had some rather choice words regarding your ‘borrowing’ of some of his ingredients for tonight's feast…” She chastised with a raised brow and displeased look. Aurora shuffled from foot to foot, her fake shield and armour doing nothing to protect her from her mother’s scorn.
“W-well...You see…”
“I think it’d be kind to march yourself back into the kitchens, apologise to him, and help out in return.” She stated, none too subtly punishing her. Aurora began to protest, but from the stern look in her emerald eyes she knew it was fruitless.
“Fine...We’ll finish this later.” Aurora said dejectedly before directing a threat towards her brother.
“March young lady, or you’re not getting any cake tonight.” Their mother warned with a small frown, causing her to run off in a huff.
“Sorry for throwing stones...She said her shield was strong enough for anything though.” Alistair tried to justify his actions while avoiding her judgmental gaze.
“Every head strong warrior thinks they’re unbreakable, does that mean you should strike Rodric the Bold?” She countered, unamused by his sorry excuses. Despite this, she couldn't help but smile softly and hug him tenderly as he began to shiver uncontrollably from the freezing cold and his shame.
“I won't tell your Father, but if you do something that foolish again you’ll be in much bigger trouble.” She calmed him, though also reminded him he wasn't off the hook just yet. As he began to talk, he felt a overwhelmingly soothing warmth radiate from her core, burning away the frost and creating visions of a bright Spring day. When they parted, Alistair opened his eyes and returned to the frozen stone and steel of his home’s ramparts and thick walls that held back the northern winds. She clasped his hand gently and guided him away from the icy garden and into the hallowed, torch lit halls of the Lion’s Den.
“Come along Alistair, you Father and I want you to meet someone very special.” She requested with a tranquil, velvety voice which reverberated off the massive, reinforced walls.
“Who are they? Are they the King or Queen? Or a Unicorn?! Please tell me it's a Unicorn!” Alistair feverishly asked, starry eyed and curious, to which the towering, pale woman could only chuckle with mirth.
“No, but close; he’s a Wizard!” She answered with dramatic flare, causing the young heir to gasp; a million questions raced through his mind and a million more spewed from his mouth as a series of half valtic, half frantic noise and nonsense.
“Ha ha, instead of asking me, you can ask him in person; your dolt of a Father is entertaining him in the dining hall.” She stated with a grin, pleased at the child’s enthusiasm. Before she could get a word in edgewise, he bolted off like a crazed manticore.
As he rushed down the halls, stepping past the amused and annoyed Human servants and Griffin prisoners who either smiled at the young sire’s antics or grimaced with annoyance; Aside from the sounds of the studious princeling's footsteps, their shoes and chains respectively echoed out as they toiled about. Approaching the hall rapidly, leaving his mother far behind, the number of beautifully dressed servants, fur and plate armoured warriors and aides steadily grew until he had to try to avoid getting stuck into a boring talk with his half cousin twice removed on his father’s side or something. Skidding to a halt in front of the massive wooden doors of the grand hall, the crest of House Leonas peering down upon all like a golden lion eyeing it's prey, he approached the two guards before him.
“Look out, the Mad liche Alistair approaches!” One of the two of them exclaimed with faux terror, causing the imposing, mud stained infant to giggle.
“I order you two to open the gates, or face my wrath!” The scruffy prince ordered, elated that the knights were playing along.
“Whatever you request, milord.” The other guard chimed in, her voice filled with muffled laughter as her helmet hid her rolling eyes and smirk. As he stood triumphantly before his two minions, the door gave way and bathed him in the sights and smells of a banquet in preparation.
The long rows of rustic wooden tables were topped with empty silver plates and trays and pilfered candelabras. Servants and wards scrambled to fulfill their orders while the lord’s honour guard stood at the ready, their gold and steel armour made of fine Eastern Val metals and their helmets built to resemble a roaring lion. In the centre of the chaos, illuminated by the fire in the great hearth behind them and the light flowing through the multicoloured panel windows stood Lord Peter, Lord of the Lion’s Den and the King’s Hunter, garbed in the hide of a legendary white lion that covered his back, shoulders and neck with its fur and his bald head with its own head and wore thick, padded leather armour; his thick orange beard, lines of red war paint and wild purple eyes made him look like a crazed animal himself. Next to him stood a strange, shorter and leaner man clad in the finest golden robes the little boy had ever seen. As he approached, he began to hear their conversation.
“-What’s a few more weeks to your order anyways? We’re still not entirely sure-”
“No, we both examined Aurora and she bared no signs, if it is not Alistair then we may have to formulate a new plan…” The obscured man insisted, his calm, young and soft voice betraying his wisdom and experience while his Father seemed torn though his gruff, deep and boisterous voice hid it well. As his heir approached, unaware of their prior conversation, Peter turned to him and knelt down with open arms and massive grin; the seven foot tall mountain of a man embraced his charging son with all his love and picked him up.
“Ah, there you are Little Lion! Playing make believe with your sister again I hear? Your guards told me how she overcame your ‘spells’ by pummeling you with her shield.” He stated, howling with belly shaking laughter only to be greeted to his son’s scorn.
“If it was real life I would’ve won…” He defended with an embarrassed blush.
“And what makes you say that?” The stranger asked, his milky orange eyes examining the squirming prince who tried to break from his father’s burly hands.
“Well, liches are immortal mages who’re super old and wise! How could a knight with only a shield beat one of them?” Alistair asked as Peter finally let him down softly.
“Well, if the shield was enchanted with powerful divine magic or solar magic it’d burn through the foul creature’s barriers; though I doubt splinters and snow would cut it.” He explained with a lecturing tone and faint smile as he paraphrased one of his own research papers to the awestruck child.
“Are you that Wizard mother told me about?” He asked as he sized up the tanned, lean and young Wizard clan in elaborately detailed cloth robes.
“How astute of you young one. I'm Ludex the Ignis, Lord Hierophant of the Immortalis Bibliotheca; you probably don't remember me, but I was the priest who carried out your blessings when you were but a babe.” He announced with a rehearsed bow, earning him a suppressed snort of laughter from the two in front of him, and nostalgic smile.
“My mother told me stories about your adventures and studies; But I thought your title was Ludex the Lout, or was it Lazy?” Alistair questioned innocently, causing Peter to burst out in laughter and the Hierophant to take a step back in surprise before composing himself.
“Those are my informal titles given to me by my former master; I see your Mother told you about my early years as well…” He concluded as Lord Peter calmed down. He went to go on yet was interrupted by the lady of the castle.
“No, I covered your more thrilling adventures, but you'll always be Ludex the Lazy to us.” Alistair’s mother stated as she entered the conversation, causing both her child and partner to snicker.
“Ah, Lady Ruby, thank you for your impeccable timing. Now then, Sir Alistair, do you know why I'm here today?” He greeting the noble with a respectful nod and agitated sigh before returning to his tranquil state and addressed the young lord.
“Because of Dad’s feast?” He guessed with a confused look.
“Although it promises to be delicious, no. Follow up question, do you know what you, your mother and myself have in common?” He mused once more, further confusing him.
“...We all have nice robes?” He asked, not really sure where he was going. Despite the severity of what was to be said, he couldn't help but be amused, and irked, by his ignorance.
“I see he hasn't been made aware. Alistair, you have magical potential.” Ludex informed him, excitement in his quiet voice. The reaction was instant.
“REALLY?! Gods, why didn't anyone tell me? Mom, is it true?!” He cried out, surprising many of the guards and servants in the room as he began jumping about, visions of him as an all powerful Mage flashing through his yearning mind.
“We weren't sure if either you or your sister had the potential within yourselves; magic is an extremely rare and volatile trait among most people and we didn't want you to get your hopes up only to be disappointed.” Ruby explained calmly, grasping the shaking child.
“Why’d you never tell me you were magic?” Alistair continued, calming down somewhat but still overstimulated.
“Yes, I'm curious to know why as well.” The senior Mage added, his tone and expression hiding his suspicion.
“You never once thought it was odd how I was capable of knowing if you'd done something foolish when no one was looking? I hid my magic from the two of you because we didn't want either of you to get overly hopeful; magic may be hereditary but it’s also known to lie dormant in some bloodlines as well.” She justified with an understanding grin and sorry expression. Ludex merely sighed and shook his head.
“Ignorance will help no one, but your logic is sound. Now Alistair, I'm sure you’re aware of the Bibliotheca and the Trials of Spring.” He hoped, not knowing just how little or much he knew about the Archive.
“Of course, it's the time where new mages...Wait, are you saying you want me to be a part of the Archives?!” He screamed, realisation dawning as Ludex worn a massive, reassuring grin down at the hopping child.
“I don't just want you to be an acolyte, I believe you have the potential to possibly be my apprentice; it's a challenging position and I know this is a lot to-”
“Gods, this must be a dream! This, this is all so sudden I-I can’t believe it! Dad, is this another joke?” Alistair interrupted, his brain running overtime to process everything while trying to blot out the fear that this was all a cruel joke.
“I assure ya cub, this ain’t a joke; Ludex here truly believes you’ve got all that magic muck in ya.” His father clarified, arms crossed and smirk sincere.
“I understand if you’re shocked by this sudden revelation, most children who’re told this late about their powers are usually confronted.” Ludex commented, fearing the child may hyperventilate or faint.
“No, t-this is amazing...I got to tell someone, I got to tell everyone! Mom, where’s Aury?! Don't worry, I'll find her myself!” Alistair stammered out before running away, his light footsteps suddenly thunderous against the red carpet covered stone floor, his mother in toe as she tried to calm the crazed boy.
“He’s certainly a lot more thrilled by the news then most noble kids; has he always been fascinated by the supernatural?” Ludex asked, genuinely curious, though his pleased tone and line of questions died when he saw Peter’s chilling, suppressed expression.
“Ludex, I'll tell ye now to save myself some time. If you harm my boy, if you cause him or my house suffering to fulfill this ‘plan’ of yours...There’s no potion you can concoct, spell you can mumble or demon you can commune with that will stop me from turning you into Ludex the Lame.” Peter promised, ire and malice plastered on his face. As he walked away, leaving Ludex to his own devices, he was reminded why they called Peter Leonas the Butcher of Royal Peak…
With a jolt, I awoke. After trying to wipe away the drool hanging from my thin lips, I remembered I was temporarily disabled. My left hand was missing, in its place was a cloud of gaseous, multicoloured magic hanging out of my flopping robe sleeve. The price of rapidly repairing an entire Archive wing, bringing a full grown stallion back from the verge of death while maintaining a physical form would kill most Humans and Ponies from Acute Magical Exhaustion, thankfully I was already dead and only gave up a limb.
Speaking of the stallion, I looked up from my plush, cushioned blue study chair and examined the man from where I rested. He seemed stable, his physical injuries were healing faster than expected so as long as he wasn't mentally broken from the battle he should be fine in a few days. While he was asleep, I mended his hat and clothes; the small amount of damage I received was nothing to fret about. Sighing, I began to wonder many things.
I knew not why things were as they were, but complaining and drinking myself into a stupor would solve nothing. Bored, I looked around the room for structural damage I might've missed in my rush to build the room.
The ceiling was unseeable, hidden behind a flurry of golden stars, constellations and planets that danced hypnotically; they looked lovely and always helped when I needed to finally get some sleep. The colossal, lavish bed the unknown Equestrian was occupying was custom made a long time ago, it hovered above the ground softly and was designed for more than one person preferably. The gold and sapphire sheets were made of the finest, and possibly last, Southern Val threads.
The walls were lined with wooden bookshelves and nooks and crannies filled with everything from in depth studies into the field of Noxromancy and the beneficial uses of soul power to trashy romance novels and adventure stories; not all of them were mine but they were still fun to flip through with a glass of wine or whiskey. Piles of handwritten books and mementos lined the floor, absent of home but still cherished. Moonlight and starlight shined through the open balcony doors to my right, allowing the cold nighttime desert wind to blow in and keeping the damn sand out. My study occupied the other side of the room. Along with the massive black stone desk behind me, its surface was scratched and stained with failed experiments and lined with scrolls and scribbled notes, the floor was decorated with boxes, jars, pots and experimental equipment. They were all labeled, though I doubted anyone aside from myself could decipher the old language. The large, reinforced stone doors to my left had no handles, instead they relied on my own magic to let myself or guests through. All in all, the recently decrepit and dusty room looked like it hadn't been lying under a pile of rubble, exposed to the elements for eons.
“What I wouldn't give for Star to walk in here and berate me for sleeping in again...” I lamented with an exhausted sigh. The calmness and silence of night brought pleasant dreams and somber thoughts in equal measure to most, but to me the silence was unnerving. As I began to get up and stretch, maybe find something edible cooking down in the shanty town, I heard a strained groan escape the chaffed lips of the figure resting in my bed. I realised I couldn't let the Pony see me, it'd raise too many questions. Rushing to beat the awakening stranger’s gaze, I assumed a form I hadn't even thought about in well over two thousand years.
“Woah nelly…” I muttered, my voice raspy and cracking but lest I wasn't coughing blood no more. I figured I'd died out in the desert heat, and I was dumbfounded when I opened my eyes only to see a room full of books, a massive blue and gold bed fit for the Princess and a Unicorn standing near the foot of the bed with my clothes and hat in his vibrant blue magical grasp.
“I'm glad to see you’re awake, most don't react so well to drastic restoration magic; though it's better than the alternative.” The strange stallion proclaimed with a soft smile. His soft fur was snow white, his long, flowing mane a dual colour of brown and silver, eyes like a sapphire and topaz and despite his young features his eyes held wisdom few old folks had. He wore a massive, flashy robe that hid his body and despite his hood casting shadows on his face it let his horn stick out freely. With every step the sound of armour clinking softly could be heard. All in all, the strange stallion looked like a Mage out of some fairytale.
“Where am I? I...I remember...Monsters and explosions everywhere, then nothin’.” I asked, vivid memories weighing on my mind.
“You’re in the ruins of the Grand Archive, far to the west of Valetoria, the country that used to exist here. I was travelling the desert when I happened upon a destroyed machine and dead soldiers. I killed the monsters that attacked you and teleported us here. You've been asleep for hours while I casted powerful healing spells on your wounds; a lesser healer would’ve merely staunched the bleeding and fix the visible, I fixed all existing injuries and ailments; though still tender you're physical flawless. I don't wish to brag, but in a few days you should be feeling like a new stallion.” He boasted, his attitude and statements calming me somewhat as I felt my recently torn open chest. Despite still feeling stiff and sore, I was awestruck to find nothin' wrong with me.
“This...This can't be real...Who are ya?” I inquired, amazement and confusion taking hold. As I tried to get up, he rushed to my side and gently held me down.
“I wouldn't advise walking around just yet, you don't want to test the extent of your injuries. My name is Wonderlust and this is my temporary workshop and room; sorry if the decor is not to your tastes.” The stranger answered, his voice warm and smile welcoming. He seemed like a good kinda fella.
“I'm just happy to be breathing partner. Name’s Braeburn, unofficial captain of the Appaloosa Royal Guard and farmer; sorry to trouble ya, I can't begin to tell ya how grateful I am.” I stated, nodding at the healer with a beaming smile on my weary, woozy head. He merely grinned back at me as he stepped away.
“I couldn't rightly leave you dying out there, that wouldn't exactly make me a good doctor now would it?” He joked, getting a rise outta me despite my hacking lungs.
“Hey, were there any other survivors or...Just me?” I asked, desperately needing to know if there was anyone else left.
“I'm sorry, the other soldiers were either too far gone or dead already when I arrived; you’re the only survivor…” He announced with sorrow, avoiding my gaze.
“...Damn it all…” I cursed, not really sure what to say. Staring up at the ceiling, getting lost in the mess of stars and nothing, I let out a massive, built up sigh and simply wondered what the hay I was going to do now… “Could ya leave me alone for a bit? I really just want to think for awhile.” I continued, not looking at the guy.
“Of course, if you need anything merely press the red symbol on that panel atop the bedside table. I'll be back soon.” Wonderlust informed with a small, bittersweet smile as he moved towards the massive stone doors and casted a spell that caused them to swing open freely. As he stepped outside, the doors sealing behind him, I placed my head in my hooves and thought on all the people back home who’d be hurting when I told them their son, daughter, husband, wife or friend died under my command and I gave the order to fight when we should’ve retreated…
“At least he seems nicer than most Equestrian Guards…” I stated as I trotted down the newly rebuilt hallway, the curtains hanging off the windows to my right blowing freely in the desert wind. As I walked past followers who marvelled at my Pony body, I couldn't help but feel wrong; the unnatural body combined with the gnarling pain of sustained magical withdrawal left me feeling incomplete and I'd never enjoyed being disguised as a Pony. Preparing to agitate myself further, I began transforming into a Human once more; yet as I turned pure white and began forming the body, I felt an acute, substantial pain radiate from my core. Crying out in pain, I collapsed into a heap. My body, sans my left arm, was reformed but it felt like my organs were tearing apart.
“Lord Alistair, what’s wrong?!” Faded questioned as he hobbled down the marbled hall along with Snowfall who began helping me back onto my feet.
“I’m fine, it just takes a lot of power to fly back here in under an hour, fix a whole wing of a castle alone with nothing but magic, fix lethal wounds and sustain a body; when you're made of magic, withdrawals can be...Agony.” I answered through grit teeth, as Snow picked me up only to gasp out when she noticed the haze of magical nothing where my hand should've been.
“Don't worry about that, too much concentration to keep it all together.” I justified, my head dazed and body in pain. “Is the war room usable?” I asked Scroll, trying to get back to business.
“Y-Yes, my lord, but I'd highly recommend we-”
“No time, we need to talk in private real quick.” I insisted, blowing off his concern while Snowfall, despite her worrying, helped me walk to the desired room with a frazzled Faded Scroll in toe. The Hierophant’s Wing was filling up rapidly with ‘guards’ who’d become adept in the field of weight and paper manipulation, elders who’d mastered their field of studies and families temporarily claiming the various lavish rooms befitting royalty. The crowds parted for their leaders, voicing their worries at the sight of my state, until we stood in front of a gargantuan valatite door that doubled as a wall. In place of myself, Snow placed a furry palm on the gates and, following the rules of the salvaged notes from the Archive’s golden age, repeated the incantation to open the way. As the gates groaned and parted, we walked in.
“Still like I remember it, minus the advisers and Sages.” I exclaimed nostalgically, gazing at the huge, white elderwood and black steel round table with the numerous, lavish and ornate chairs assigned to the various appointed Sages. The room was devoid of windows, instead being illuminated by multiple magical torches that still burned brightly. Behind each throne sat a banner of corresponding colour and meaning. At the opposite side of the room rested my seat at the table; polished and cut sapphires lined the infused valatite throne with ravens carved into the armrests, a lot more stylish and overly detailed than I prefer but it was comfy and fitting for the vibe of the room. After being placed into my throne, I insisted that they sit wherever they felt as the people who used to sit in the chairs are all dead.
“Now then, what the fuck are those monsters in the desert?” I asked after sinking into the familiar chair, surprising the two of them at my sudden and crass question.
“Monsters? What do you mean?” Snow inquired, unsure of what I was referring to; I didn't need to read her mind to know she was telling the truth, the confusion in her hazel eyes evident.
“I found the Equestrian bleeding out in a ruined mechanical construct surrounded by these...Perversions of Humanity. They wore Human skin and spoke valtic but were so bestial that they would've been labelled demons in the Dark Age...And the black magic that radiated off them...I need to know if you two know anything.” Alistair filled them in, his chilling description disturbing Snow and filled Faded Scroll with a sense of dread.
“My lord...There were murmurs long ago, further back then when I joined your cause, of some of your original pupils who were devising some way to strike back at Celestia. They were powerful, fiercely loyal dark mages and black Paladins united in their cause to hunt her and her people down for the ruination of the Archivists. No one really knew what became of them but it is known they went to ground within what’s left of Valetoria...Perhaps they built these abominations...Tis a disturbing thought indeed.” Faded Scroll informed, remembering what the elders from ages past told him in hushed whispers, though he was horrified at the thought that someone could’ve done something so drastic he still wanted to doubt the existence of such an organisation.
“Why is it the more I learn about my followers the more I hate myself? Regardless, we have to kill this movement before it grows; I despise the Princesses but killing random patrols will only harm innocents and incur her wrath.” Alistair ordered, laying the groundwork for the small council's first assault.
“You have a plan, my lord?” Snow inquired, cocking an eyebrow up at his statement.
“Yes, though it's risky. We’ll need a powerful telepath, like yourself Scroll, or someone else skilled in seer related magic, some supplies and muscle. If we can trace the essence those beasts gave off we could locate a larger group of them and possibly point us in the direction of their headquarters; black magic is rather pungent and these monsters reeked of it. Who’re our most powerful combatants? They'll be my escort.” Alistair requested after filling them in on the basis of his plan.
“That'd be us, my lord.” Faded Scroll announced with a proud grin while Snow cracked her knuckles, causing the scrolls wrapped around her hands to fizzle red energy.
“You? No offense, but even the most powerful mages are hindered by age and blindness in combat, and you're pretty ancient as far as mages go. I could use your mental abilities, but I don't want you dying for me if we get stuck in a brawl.” Alistair denied, disbelieving his usefulness in a battle, somewhat offending the old stallion.
“I know I'm far from a young Colt anymore, and yes my magic has blinded me, but it has also given me a much greater sight. I can see the ebb and flow of magic, the presence of life forms and even souls themselves including the absence of them. Nothing can sneak up on me and my age, much like your own, brings with it experience as well as wisdom; I was more than just a tactician in Celestia’s army as well. Also, isn't calling me ancient like the pot calling the kettle black? Please Sir Alistair, don't discredit my abilities.” Faded insisted, understanding in his master's doubts but also hesitant to sit out anything that could endanger him.
“You can truly see souls? Such an art was rare even in my age...Prove it, what does my soul look like.” Alistair requested, curious to see his skills put to the test.
“Your soul is...Bizarre. It’s fractured, split apart and torn to shreds and hastily put together, yet it burns brighter and with colour and power I've never seen before. Your soul is damaged beyond simple magic, almost like parts are missing, yet still intact and strong.” He summarized as he stared at Alistair with an intense expression on his usually calm and aged face.
“Impressive…” The Hierophant stated, genuinely impressed that someone else could perceive his soul. Few beings aside from immortals and those who feed on souls and emotions can see a being's soul, fewer an immortals.
“Yeah, my lord, the old bastard’s also tough. He taught me everything and aside from you I’d want no one else in a foxhole with me. Plus, you're pretty banged up right now so I don't think you should be fighting any hordes of monsters anytime soon.” Snow defended her teacher, remembering the times they fought alongside one another.
“...I suppose you’re right, if I'm to ensure the safety of the Archive I’d best to do it in good shape and live to see the Archive back in action; plus I still have to aid in healing the injured around here like I promised...We’ll wait three days, I'll be fixed by then and in the meantime you two can gather the supplies and soldiers we’ll require.” Alistair instructed, giving in to logic instead of immediate action, causing his two new advisers to grin, before standing back up on shaking legs.
“I'll inform the people, they'll wish to know why their leaders are all going out into the desert so suddenly.” Faded told them, assuming his role as the people’s guide, while Snow helped Alistair to the door.
“I'll evaluate our fighters, we’re small in numbers but overwhelming in skill.” Snowfall boasted proudly, and loudly, as they exited the spacious, shadowy room back into the well lit and crowded halls.
“Excellent…Now then, before we leave I have one thing to say.” Alistair stated, causing the two to halt.
“Until now we’ve been getting by with little and although the Archive can be built back up, I'll kill myself via depletion at this rate with how much work it's going to be. Which is why I've decided that when we get back from this hunt I'm going to need all the skilled Restorers we’ve got for one hell of a job.” Alistair demanded with a stern voice and determination.
“You seek to build it all back up with one massive burst of restoration magic?” Snow guessed, her teachings telling her it could be plausible but lethal with the scale at which they would be working.
“No, but close. You’ve felt it, haven't you Scroll? The pull of ancient magic, the strengthening allure of old power? The Archive was built upon something discovered by the first mountain dwelling Humans long ago, something rooted in legends and myth that few beings, not even the Princesses, Dragons or Chrysalis know of, something few nations even have. We’re not going to rebuild the Archive, we’re going to be jump starting its heart.” Alistair exclaimed, excited at the idea of taking the first, substantial step to reclaiming what was lost so long ago.
The Lion’s Den was bathed in the early morning spring light, the sun blessing the growing gardens and venues within and around the walled off, mountainous castle. A skeleton crew of slaves and workers were busy cleaning out their young master’s quarters while many others, guards included, gathered in the courtyard to see him off.
Before the young child stood his family, all teary eyed but undeniably proud. The many guards and servants who had the pleasure of working with the curious, energetic and bright child had said their goodbyes and wished him a safe journey, leaving him alone with his family and Ludex who stood aside a weeping Alistair.
“A-Are you sure you have to go? Can't he stay just a little bit longer? We were gonna go to the Hunter’s Festival, we’ve always gone together.” Aurora begged, hugging onto Alistair for dear life while Ruby cried softly and Peter hid his tears.
“I'm sorry Lady Aurora, we’re to leave immediately or we’ll miss the first few tests of the Trials of Spring.” Ludex explained, dismayed that he had to tear the family apart.
“D-D-Don’t worry Aury, I'm gonna learn how to become a real strong mage, and, and then me and you can go beat up some real liches and Dragons! Plus, Ludex said you and Mom and Dad can come and visit me after the Trials!” Alistair said in between sobs and gasps of air with a small smile as he tried to make Aurora happy.
“Listen to ya, speaking like a real hero already! Gods, you’re a Leonas through and through Little Lion; oh Gods these mountains won't be the same without you!” Peter exclaimed loudly with sorrow and pride as he lifted up his boy for the last time before he had to leave.
“You’ve always been destined for greatness, I always knew it...I promise you darling, we’ll write a letter every week, we’ll pry you away from your studies every once in awhile, we’ll come to see you in person when we can...Oh Alistair, I’m so happy for you...Please, be a good boy won’t you?” Ruby pleaded, fawning over her little son and holding back her tears behind a smile, while kissing him on the cheek and hugging him along with his father.
“I promise I’ll be good! I’ll be better than good! I-I’ll be the best acolyte ever!” Alistair declared, boasting with exaggerated enthusiasm to mask his fear and rapidly growing doubt.
“I know ya will be boy, do us proud and show those Southern, snotty kids that the North grows ‘im stronger and smarter!” Peter requested with a massive smirk as he placed his son on the ground and wiped away his tears.
“If you ever feel lonely or want to come home, all you need to do is simply ask and I’ll come to get you. We’re all so proud of you…” His mother guaranteed, her refined voice cracking despite her best attempts and posh makeup running.
“Show those other kids that the Leonas’ are the best at everything! ‘Cause if you’re not the best mage Aliy, who’ll be my sidekick when I become the best knight in all the Empire?” The princess rhetorically asked, punching her twin on the shoulder and causing him to laugh.
“You’re such a dunghead, you’re obviously the sidekick!” Her brother countered, causing the two of them to giggle. As the family finally parted ways, the prince stepping into the enchanted carriage of the Lord Hierophant, the Wizard’s envoy of Spellswords, Pyromancers and Paladins set off down the crooked, jagged mountain path descending the Great Northern Divide. Gold and wood gates shut behind the carriages, his family’s faces hidden behind reinforced stone walls, and the Prince and Lord began their lengthy, arduous journey to the Grand Archives in the West.
Within the carriage, enchantments turned it from a small yet lovely holding area into a massive, three room hideaway complete with carpets, drapes, bookshelves and windows. Despite the beautiful decor, Alistair sat by the entrance and watched the rolling mountains draped in snow and awakening trees and lined with towers and ramparts slowly fade away and refused to look away from the rapidly shrinking stronghold he’d lived his whole life within. Despite this, Ludex was distracted informing him with what was to come.
“Now, I know you’re family has neglected to educate you on the basics of magic and I can’t blame them, but that does mean we have much to discuss and read before we arrive if we want you to be on par with the other students. Now, the first known practitioners of magic were the Dragons and Ponies, the former brought these powers to the attention of Humans while the latter hid it; this resulted…” Ludex began, but halted his droning lecture when he saw the small boy was absently staring out the windows, lost in his own thoughts.
“Oh dear…” He said aloud, failing to remember that unlike most magically gifted children from royal families, Alistair was loved and would most likely be suffering from homesickness and bouts of sorrow; thinking quickly, he approached the Prince, tapped him on his shoulder and waited for him to turn around with his hands behind his back.
“Did you want something Ludex the Ignis?” The boy asked, clearly disheartened.
“Please, there’s no need for formalities. Now, want to see something amazing?” Ludex asked with a whimsical tone and overly joyful expression. Alistair merely shrugged and watched him.
Ludex revealed he had three plain white juggling balls in his hands, which only bored Alistair.
“Juggling? Really? I always hated dad’s jesters and they always juggled…” Alistair moaned in disinterest, suddenly remembering the fun days in court with his dad.
“Just wait and watch!” Ludex insisted as he began juggling. Alistair watched, still bored when he added a fourth and fifth ball, and was about to go back to the window when the Wizard snapped his fingers and the balls ignited, bathed in fire. Alistair shot back in shock, but was quickly enamored by the multicoloured, magical flames that danced in the air. He kept adding more and more balls until he snapped his fingers once more and whenever a ball touched his hands they turned into flaming knives! The boy gasped in horror when he dropped all of the knives, only to see them vanish.
“Where could they be?” The older man asked no one as he looked around the room with faux confusion, his silly expression causing Alistair to laugh, before reaching behind the boy’s chipped left ear and removed them all, now strung together and spelling ‘Alistair’ with flames; said person began clapping wildly and cheering.
“How’d you do that?! Pyromancy is amazing!” He questioned with wild eyes and a massive grin, causing the Hierophant to burst out laughing.
“Yes it is, but it wasn’t all Pyromancy...You see, I started by using a simple duplication spell, watch my hands instead of the balls this time…” He started with a grin and lecturing tone as he took him through the whole act, step by step, pointing out the wonders of magic; suddenly Alistair wasn’t so afraid of being alone and was soon invested in Ludex’s silly acts disguising his lessons. The weeks long journey was almost devoid of dread and sadness, at the cost of some of Ludex’s self respect.
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The heart of the Archive, huh?
Hmm...
I wonder what it might be... possibly a converging point of local leylines which over time formed a giant self regenerating magic crystal of some sort?
Hmm.... very intriguing, oh yes indeed
Braeburn hrmmmm?
I wonder what Celestia/Equestria as a whole knows about the abomination threat. I'd be most curious to see some stuff from their perspective, plus knowing where on the timeline of canon this is happening. I assume sometime in the future seeing as Braeburn is a grizzled veteran. Wonder what Twilight and the gang are doing, I expect they'll become part of this at some point, keeping Twilight away from the Archive? Impossible.
Interesting... It figures ponies would keep it all to themselves, with how much they cater about other races.
'Griffin prisoners' - leave Griffies alone, you jerks!
I wonder if griffins can use magic in this verse.
So the archive has its own variation of the crystal heart?
...Or is the crystal heart a variation of the one in the archive?
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When I read about the Heart of the Archive, I immediately thought about the Tower Heart from Overlord.
7666200 The thought did cross my mind, yes, since unlike the Crystal Heart it's a self-sustaining power source.
As long as the one it's bound to exists, it will hold power.
The stronger the one it's bound to grows, the more powerful it becomes.
Ludex is best teacher <3
Love this story. I can't wait to see where it goes.
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Chrysalis mentioned the invasion of Canterlot being three years ago.
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The Crystal empire was given a cheap copy of the artifact used to sustain the archives.
Chances are, the ponies came seeking a way to keep the snow and winter at bay and got swindled into buying one they had to constantly power via emotional energy.
The people who gave it to them most likely thought that the positive emotions would run out after being trapped in snow and thought to make a even bigger profit when they came back asking for power packs that they'd swoop in and take the wealth of the region seeing as if the ponies couldn't power it anymore then it'd be safe to assume they no longer cared about their city.
You used "rapid" instead of "rabid" a few times. A few other simple spelling errors, but otherwise wonderful!
7682064 Thanks, glad you liked it. After rechecking the times where I wrote rapidly I personally think it fits better in context but thanks for raising it up.
This chapter was rife with typos and and bit of grammatical weirdness, needs editing or at least proofreading. I held off reading for a few days in hopes the edits would come but it seems they haven't.
Still looking forward to more, but slower and higher quality chapters are better than rushed ones. Particularly since you are trying to build an entire world/civilization that humanity has always existed in, not just a single individual dimensionally displaced person (like most HiE's.)
When you get back and have access to a PC again I recommend going over this again, phones admittedly are not the best for editing.
7684145 The chapter was written while I was travelling, sorry it's not as up to scratch as it usual is though I plan to edit it this afternoon. If I had an editor I imagine it'd be more bearable.
"lich" is not a proper noun, it doesn't need to be capitalized.
Nooks* a knock is a sharp rapping.
Again, proper nouns. The only reason windows would be capitalized here is if you're talking about the Operating System.
Take out the apostrophe, also there is no "a" in bestial. The first one is a mistake, but did you even fucking look at autocorrect on the second one?
Missed the key, should've put a d there.
7703075 most, the liche thing is on me, of those problems came from my shitty touch screen on my phone or the auto correct being weird, like making windows Windows. I'll fix them. Also for some reason it didn't correct 'beastial', idk why.
Nooooo! D: I already got to the end. Can't wait to read more of this really fantastic story!
Loved the story so far, looking forward to future updates!
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"Looking forward to an update" ......