The Divine Epidemic

by Muggonny

Chapter III - Lost in Nonexistence

For what almost felt eternal, OddLuck became entranced by the herd of white blobs that dotted the black canvas of nonexistence. “The Multiverse Cluster,” Alias had called it. “These are universes. Hundreds of trillions of them. It’s very possible that this could only be a small quadrant of your existence.”

She thought about her life. Her age, the little she’s done. The everlasting fire of the eight months she put in no more than a month ago, and those flames burned into her skull to the point that she began mentally grasping for a knob of some sort to escape the blazing inferno that encapsulated her. Life did not matter, because not only was her world on fire, but the next one and the next one encircled it to the point that it became a massive black hole in her hippocampus. Insignificant.

These dreadful thoughts continued to reign down on her, nudge her from all sides; leaving a queasy feeling in her stomach. She felt the fire of eternity singing her cheeks, trying to bode her attention. Then she realized that wasn’t an inner feeling.

“Cookie?” the creature OddLuck had met so recently said. The green mare, crumbs on her right cheek, stared up at this “Alias” that had a glamorous smile pasted on her grey face. The creature seemed to read her expression, and her smile fell. A cookie jar hovered next to her and she dropped the chocolate chip disc inside. If OddLuck wasn’t so mesmerized by everything else, she would have questioned how the cookie jar disappeared without a sound or trace. In this realm, not only were they surrounded by darkness, but floating in the midst of it—nothing but the Multiverse Cluster in sight.

“So, this is it?” OddLuck said, turning back towards the Cluster. “This is what my existence is worth? This is all I had to look forward to in my life? Spending my entire childhood knowing I might be destined for something great one day just to learn that it’s all meaningless?”

Alias looked down at the mare with a knowing look. “Believe me, Strange Clover, when you’re alone with your thoughts for ten thousand years you began to grow some appreciation for it.”

OddLuck’s ears perked up and she looked back up at Alias. “Ten thousand years? How old are you? What are you?”

“As I’ve told you, my name is Alias, and I am a goddess. If you must know my age, that information is confidential. I’m as old as the world itself. Knowing the exact age may blow your mind. Instead, here’s what I can tell you: my name is Alias, as we’ve discussed. No, it’s not my actual name… I don’t know my actual name. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten. I don’t even remember what I’m a goddess of. A goddess of doubt, I suppose… but even that I have lingering suspicion. I think the only reason I’ve managed to cling to some hope of sanity is that I had books to keep me company over the centuries. And, of course, knowledge is ever-extending. So. Alias. Goddess of Doubt and Oracle of Possible Prophecies. Oracle—that I am for sure, for I claimed the role when the Divine Epidemic ended.”

OddLuck’s ears twitched again. “Divine Epidemic…” she let the words roll off her tongue, the vowels caressing her lips. Pushing the existential dread into a small box at the corner of her mind, serene curiosity took over. However, the more she thought about it, the bigger that box got. “Goddess… prophecy… What does all of this mean? Who are you? What is this? What are you really! This has to be a dream! Yeah, a dream—there’s no way any of this can be real. I’m at home, in bed right now. I’m going to wake up any moment hungover, make a prairie oyster, then go out and find a new job. There’s no way in Tartarus that any of this is real!”

“Sometimes reality is beyond what we perceive. If you can think, you must exist. If you exist, what else can? You live in a society where friendship is not only a political agreement between nations, but an amiable form of magic. Yet you assume that I am not real? That everything you see right now is not believable? Who are you to rightfully say how logic works?”

“I know how logic works!”

“But here we are! In a realm, so far out of logic it hardly exists at all! Look upon the Multiverse Cluster, and tell me what you see.”

OddLuck turned her attention back toward the Cluster, her mind becoming a blank slate as it became busy with not caring what some illusion has to say. “A bunch of glowing white orbs?”

“Strange Clover, what is the driving force of society?”

OddLuck’s ear was in a particularly twitchy mood at this hour of eternity. She turned her head back toward the creature, expectant of an answer. When she got none, she said, “What?”

“What is the force that allows society to thrive?”

OddLuck shrugged, not really in the mood for philosophical debate. “War?”

“War? How about the concept of war? The invention of the siege tower? Let’s get a little simpler—the wheel. Sliced bread? Beanbag chairs? What do all of these things have in common? They were all based off someone else’s thoughts. If you think, you are. If it exists as a thought, it can exist as a belief. If you believe hard enough, it becomes reality.”

OddLuck rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“You doubt me, but I have ways of convincing you. You might not believe right now, but I assure you, you will know the universe and beyond soon enough.”

“I don’t want to know the universe or whatever’s beyond. I want to go home.”

“And not find the meaning you’ve longed for in your life?”

An eyebrow twitch and Alias smirked, knowing she had struck a nerve with the mare. “I know you very well, I’ve had a lot of time to study you. I know who you are and how you think. You’re depressed, Clover. You go by some abstract nickname because you’re too afraid to be yourself. You’re afraid to be yourself because you believe the most you’re destined to be is something less-than-interesting. You don’t want to be yourself because yourself is uninteresting. Not only that, but your life is in the toilet. You’ve lost the only job you could find among moving to Manehatten. You moved to Manehatten to get away from school. Moreso, to get away from what happened…”

“Did you bring your own noose to this funeral?” OddLuck could almost feel her teeth cracking, but the fumes blowing through her ears canceled out the pain she felt in her jaw.

Alias’s smirk widened. “I think it’s time you learned, Clover. Your existence is worthless, but with my help it can be something greater. Stand on the mighty pedestal of the gods and know the story of the world. Come with me, so I can unveil the truth to you.”

The darkness of Nowhere seeped away, the Multiverse Cluster becoming a pinprick as it shrank in size. They were back on the white marble floors of Alias’s Library, bookshelves extending high into the cloudy mist above them.

All this happened before OddLuck could register what was going on. When Alias showed her the Multiverse Cluster, she had first introduced herself to OddLuck then told her to follow. A path opened up between one of the bookshelves—almost like one would pull a specific book off the shelf in a crime novel and a secret entrance would open up.

Now, out of sheer force of will, here they were. Surroundings changed in the blink of an eye. OddLuck was mystified, to say the least. “How… how…” she was saying. Then she kicked herself and tried to remember that this was all a dream, a dream that would be over very soon.

They stood in front of the dais supporting the Book of (Possible) Prophecies. There could have been some mechanism in the floor, because as Alias was walking up to it, the platform was lowering down, becoming even with the marble.

Is she really doing all of this with her mind? OddLuck thought. But it was a silly idea—that’s right, silly. It had to be fake. I wonder what she has to say.

By the time Alias reached the podium, it was already at ground level. The book levitated in the air over her head, emanating a golden glow. If OddLuck thought it was large before, it was now gargantuan. It was the size of a small house, and when it opened it became the length of a small house.

There was a colored illustration, spanning both of the pages. It was of her behind the counter at Frostysplit Cavern, a miserable look on her face. She remembered that moment: it was her second week on the job. P. Gander had greeted her with warmth and kindness at first, but on that particular Monday he yelled at her for showing up ten minutes late—saying a few rude things in the process. That was the start of the downward spiral.

One question, however, popped up in her mind. She spoke it: “Why is there a picture of me in this book?”

“Because you’re a prophet, of course!” Alias said ecstatically.

OddLuck tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever a prophecy appears in the Book of Possible Prophecies, there’s a fifty-fifty chance of the prophecy really occurring. Hence, Possible Prophecies. The prophecy is confirmed when an illustration appears detailing the event or prophet. For example: one such prophet is Grendar the Unbright, otherwise known as Grendar the Gender Confused, otherwise known as Grenda to her—he—it? Friends. When she was born, her entire family was slaughtered. Her mother, cloaked in blood from oozing wounds and desperate to save the last of her kinship, rushed the young warrior to the Pool of Nature’s Tears—where she dipped her in by the ankle. Mother Nature took pity, thus granted the warrior impunity. But since Grenda was dipped in by the ankle, it was known to be her one weakness. This could have been easily avoidable if she just wore a boot, but she considered those tacky and had a strange obsession with high heels. When asked why she prefered to wear such accessories into battle, she responded with, ‘Shut the fuck up Linda, these shoes are three hundred shinkles, and it’s a fashion statement.’ Thus the prophet’s life ended before the Book of Possible Prophecies could surface her. Strange Clover, I am proud to say that you’ve been subjected to the greatest prophecy to unravel since the birth of Bobby and Ragnor!”

“None of this is making any sense...” OddLuck said, more to herself than to the mythical creature in front of her. However, Alias didn’t seem to notice.

“Then I have all the answers for you. Ask me any question, and I’ll tell you the answer!”

OddLuck thought for a moment. She could ask many things, such as what the Divine Epidemic was, or who were Bobby and Ragnor. She could ask why the Book of (Possible) Prophecies had to be so elaborate. Instead, she had a test question.

“Are there any other prophets?”

“Many!” Alias said immediately, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “There’s Bobby and Ragnor, of course! Their prophecies were unraveled almost simultaneously.”

The book flipped to another page, revealing another illustration. This time it was of the blue minotaur OddLuck saw before, brandishing a flaming axe and flying toward a hydra, the teeth from one of its numerous heads exposed and agape.

“The story of Bobby the Brave started as a traditional tale. The gods were in need of a warrior to do their biddings. Before we gifted him with such awe-striking powers, Bobby went by another name: Bobby the Frail, as his village called him. He was known for being born all skin and bones. Why, when he was fully grown his father mistook him for a deer at one point.

“We the gods were fed up with the warriors at the time. They were all buff and knew how to get along with the ladies. We wanted excitement. I can even recall this one showoff who murdered my pet lion long ago and wore its skin. So, we gifted Bobby with an axe of awesome power: to which he dubbed it the Flaming Axe of Awesome—trademarked.”

“How… did he trademark it? Why did it matter that he trademarked it?”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t familiar with copyright laws! If the gods didn’t copyright the Flaming Axe of Awesome—trademarked—there would be another Flaming Axe of Awesome—trademarked. And soon there would have been would be heros running around with their own self-proclaimed flaming waraxes!”

“Wouldn’t the copyright be expired by now? How far back do copyright laws extend?”

“Do you have any other questions are within legal jurisdiction?”

OddLuck rolled her eyes. “Who’s this Ragnor?”

Alias’s face morphed into one of contempt. The book flipped to another page, an illustration of the trauma-inducing minotaur appearing, thin tendrils of darkfire protruding from all around him, furcating and dancing in the air amidst a burning forest.

“One of the more… disappointing prophets. Also known as Bobby’s brother. The story of Ragnor is a traditional fall from grace tale. In the beginning, he was loved by everyone. He was the strongest warrior in the village. Once he fended off a liege of feather-headed gurglepuffs with one arm tied behind his back—his knot-tying skills weren’t as great as his willpower—and became a representation of his culture.

“Then, we gifted Bobby with his axe. At first, no one knew what to think. The village runt suddenly had amazing powers. Not thinking, they continued to disown him—but Bobby maintained a strong mentality and treated his fellow minotaurs with kindness. Then came the day that let him shine: he fought a colossal feather-headed gurglepuff—which is much more intimidating than the traditional feather-headed gurglepuff and much more fearsome than the fang-toothed feather-headed gurglepuff. However, not quite as common as the gurgle.

“Bobby’s village rejoiced in the newly-found warrior’s talents. Thus, he not only became well-respected by his fellow villagers, but he overshadowed his brother in the process. Ragnor became jealous.

“The gods saw the hatred in Ragnor and wanted nothing to do with him. But one saw the potential: Malum, the God of Evil. With great amusement, he bestowed upon Ragnor the sword Pyrinikós. Thus the minotaur became known as the Lord of Corruption.

“Much like Bobby, Ragnor was sent on a quest. But, while Bobby’s quest fulfilled the regimen of strength and willpower, Ragnor’s quest left hatred in the world. Lakes dried up, forests depleted—it was a sight that made Mother Nature herself shed a tear.

“Ragnor believed what he was doing was for the greater good: he wanted to move all those things out of the way to make room for new villages. But the gods became aware of his power.

“At first, they approached with caution. They sent him on a journey across the sea, toward a secluded island. They told him he was destined to fight a horrific beast making plans to attack his home village. When Ragnor saw there was no beast, he realized that the gods had played him. His ship was destroyed by a tidal wave, Ragnor was trapped on the island—or so we had hoped.

“Pulling the forces of the Earth his way, he utilized the power of the gods and learned to walk on water. We the gods could have stopped him, if Mare, Goddess of the Sea, hadn’t banished herself to pick at the polar ice caps to make way for more water.

“Fueled by vengeance by what the gods have done, Ragnor began his quest for hunting down and killing every last one of us. He would not have succeeded if Poştaş, the Prophecy Messenger, hadn’t visited him. Throwing a thorn bush at Poştaş so he couldn’t fly away, Ragnor cut off his head.

“Using the head of Poştaş, he was able to track down every last one of the gods. This is when we made many mistakes. Desperate to be rid of this newfound cancer of the Earth, some of the gods organized parties and attacked Ragnor.

“But there was a hidden ability no one thought he had: he had the ability to steal the power of the gods he had previously slain. Thus, Ragnor had become far more powerful than any of us could foresee.

“He had slain the gods seeking him, and looked around every corner of the Earth for the remaining ones. Very few survived his wrath. This is what became known as the Divine Epidemic.

“Stricken with fear, the remaining gods were forced to go into hiding, less than a dozen left alive. Out of all of them, Mother Nature was the only one to stay and fight.”

Mother Nature; the golden doe walking down a forested path. Her glowing body was like a beacon in the darkness, eliminating all shadows from the illustration.

“You saw the rest of the story. Using the last of her energy and the added power of Chronos’s enchanted helmet, she encased Ragnor in a time capsule of amber resin. Thus, the story of the New Age began.”

Alias, who had been too engrossed with telling the story to remember who she was talking to, turned her attention to the green mare staring with intrigue. “There’s so much more to this story than meets the eye, Clover. It’s what led to the birth of your princesses, it’s also what led your society into a stagnating spiral. Your culture has somehow managed to maintain peace through friendship, but accelerating progression has led it to a state of a desperate attempt to reform. It’s interesting: your world has become so vastly overpopulated the Earth of today can’t seem to focus on one issue at a time.”

“It’s… life,” OddLuck added, many complex thoughts falling over her brain—all of which ended nowhere. (Heh, look at the irony!)

“It’s life after the gods! We died so you could live your life in peace, only for that to come back and punch you in the face. Our disappearance has led to your rude awakening, but now we return. Welcome, Strange Clover, to the rebirthing of your world!”

OddLuck stared at the pages inside of the Book of Possible Prophecies. None of it made any sense, yet so much of it gave her new meaning. She didn’t believe it—she wanted to believe it. Nothing this creature was saying sounded true, yet every bit of it screamed right.

There was only one thing on her mind.

“Rebirthing?”

“No, not in the way you’re thinking. Also, gross.” (Wait, you can read my thoughts? OddLuck said in her mind.) “Yes, yes I can. You should think about your puberty days less. But indeed, our return means the cleansing of the planet. I know what you’re thinking now, and no. The destruction of your world will not be necessary to revive the gods. Rather, we wish to gift those who are eligible for the position with the powers necessary to recreate the world to its former glory. It will take the deconstruction of several homes to replant the Inconclusive Forest to the once glorious state it was in ten thousand years ago, and it will require several political leaders to change the way they rule, but soon enough your world will plunge into a state of peace once more.”

“So… a goddess.”

“Yes, we’ve been over this, yes.”

OddLuck examined the crisp pages of the Book of (Possible) Prophecies. None of this made a lick of sense—that she thought for the umpteenth time and something I hope I don’t have to keep saying in the hopes this mare finally understands. But some of it… spoke true.

It crossed her mind a few times in her life. Were there more god-like beings other than Celestia of the Sun and Luna of the Moon? Discord of Chaos even? When taking into consideration the kind of world she lived in, she thought of it as plausible that a place such as Nowhere could exist (if you can put it that way). So why did she still have doubts? Was it the presence of the very goddess before her that caused her mind to betray her own eyes, or was it a desperate attempt to deny this single obstruction of everything within her familiar realm of logic? In the end, she could only decide: this had to be a dream.

“No!” Alias screamed, catching OddLuck off-guard. Her vibrant ethereal mane ignited into a shower of red sparks, the flowers of flames blossoming all over the library, their pedals licking against her face. Her eyes became orbs, red smokey tendrils flowing into the air above them. Lastly, she had grown in size, almost the size of our hero Bobby the Brave himself.

“After all I’ve said, after all I’ve tried to convince you with, you still deny everything you see before you? Do you think this all a dream? Tell me, Strange Clover, have you sat in the abyss of darkness for ten thousand straight years with nothing but a cantankerous old reaper and a flying pasta bowl to keep you company?”

The balefire had grown towards the clouds, enrapturing the two in walls of heat. Despite the muggy air, OddLuck found herself shivering. “I-I…” she tried to push out. “I don’t know what you want from me!” With that, she fell onto the ground, cowering before the power of the ethereal beast.

Like the sun would fade out, so did the flames extinguish. Alias had shrunk down to her normal size. Her mane and eyes were back to normal; a somber look spread across her face.

“I’m sorry, OddLuck.” she said, the thickest syrup of sympathy in her voice. “It’s been forever since I’ve spoken to another being. I don’t know what came over me.”

The threat was out of existence, but OddLuck was still shivering. “Wh-what are you?”

The powerful being looked down at the cowering pony, a tinge of sadness in her eyes. With the swiftest whisper, she said, “A lost cause…”

Silence permeated the library for nearly a placebo century.

Finally, when the hundredth year had passed over, Alias took her gaze away from the ground and gently placed a claw on OddLuck. “You’re important to the story. It’s not my place to force you, but it is my job to guide you.”

“Wa-what do you want me to do?” Her teeth were chattering, but she slowly began standing back up.

“The Book of Possible Prophecies foretells the story of a mare traveling into the Inconclusive Forest to free the minotaur Bobby the Brave, so that he may defeat his brother Ragnor in mortal combat.”

“What is the Inconclusive Forest?” Her jaw was quivering, but her teeth stopped chattering.

“The forest of the world. Or at least use to be. You can find it southeast of the Equestrian border.”

“The Inconclusive Forest... “ OddLuck let it roll off her tongue. “Southeast of the border… I remember learning about a forest like that in high school. Isn’t that supposed to be the world’s largest forest?”

“It’s not only the world’s largest forest, Clover, but it is the origin of all life! It’s where Mother Nature first planted her seeds. It’s where the first signs of color showed. It’s where the Creator himself first touched down when the planet was nothing but a barren rock.”

“It’s where Bobby fought Ragnor…” OddLuck finished. Alias looked down at her with an approving nod.

“I see I’m finally getting through to you.”

“Not quite… I’m still convinced this is all a dream. But if it is, it’s an interesting dream I’d like to explore more.”

“Well, there’s not much left that I can say to you.”

OddLuck raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve told you everything necessary. I have told you about the gods and spoken the prophecy for you. You will travel into the Inconclusive Forest and free Bobby from his prison so that he may fight his brother. You will be serving a great cause. You will be known as the greatest prophet in the history of your world: aiding the hero while the Earth is on the brink of destruction. Do this, and the reward will be... godly, I assure you.”

OddLuck stared back at the Book. Whether or not this was a dream, could it be the sense of adventure she longed for in her life? Since she started working at Frostysplit Cavern—no, before that even—her train of thought has been spiraling out of control with everything going on. Could a simple walking through nature give her a chance to clear her mind and think straight for a change?

The answer is yes. OddLuck thought. You want this. You want this to happen. You want the experience. You want an interesting life—one without the turmoil of going through everyday. You want to find happiness. You want to have that feeling you had around him again. Do this OddLuck, you will be happy that you did it.

“Is that a yes I hear?”

OddLuck was yanked out of her thoughts, overcome with a sense of minor frustration. “Quit reading my mind!”

Alias reeled her head back and laughed. “Oh, Clover…” she said. “Well, I’ll give you time to make up your mind. Until then, I have a gift for you.”

Out of thin air a box appeared between them, an audible crack! snapping through the library. Much like everything else, the box was exceptionally well-crafted. With freshly carved wood dark as walnut and gold running along the edges, it was indeed a box. However, much like many boxes, this one had something inside of it. Revolutionary!

The top flipped open and a jolt of awe ran down OddLuck’s spine. Inside the box, was possibly the most well-crafted crystal she had ever seen. Glowing bright crimson, it must have been half a foot long. Its tip was sharp, almost knife-like, and the top of it was wrapped in a thin gold casing resembling flames.

“This necklace,” Alias said. “Was specially crafted by me, for you. It will help on your journey.”

“What does it do?”

Alias snapped the box shut. OddLuck’s face dropped in disappointment. “That is something for you to learn in a later chapter of your life, Strange Clover.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“When the gods were first created, a very specific list of rules was created to infer the gods had proper ruling over their creation. One such law that applies to this case is, ‘If thou bestows upon prophets an enchanted gift to aid them in their journey, thou shalt not specify its use.’ Besides, I’ve already told you the world. It only makes sense that you want to know more, but alas, our time is up. There’s a story that needs to be told.”

“W-what?” OddLuck stuttered. There were many things she wanted to say. Starting with, That’s a dumb rule. She wanted to ask questions that led to more questions. How were you created? What are the High Gods? What created the High Gods? Are there any more cookies?

But Alias only responded to these thoughts with a shake of her head. “It’s the same as the stories that have been told over the centuries: the gods may not directly help you on your journey, but we may provide you the insight to know which roads to take. Do well, Strange Clover, then you may revive the gods and bring peace to your world once more.”

OddLuck’s body vibrated as the floor she was standing on shook. Books were falling out of place, tiles were cracking, shelves fell over each other, and a crimson ethereal mist formed around Alias.

It’s time for you to wake up. A voice screamed in OddLuck’s head. It’s time for you to wake up and start your day.

“Alias, wait!” The otherworldly being didn’t hear the shout over the quaking. Was she even there in that mass cloud of crimson?

A tile fell out beneath her right forehoof, and for a moment, as she peered into Nowhere, she was once again greeted by that existential darkness she came to loath in such short time.

“Get me out of here…” she said. When no one heard her cry, she realized she had to be louder. “Get me out of here!”

Taking her leg out of the hole, she followed the massive cloud when the part of the floor that once held the Book of (Possible) Prophecies completely fell away, enraptured by more darkness.

“Get me out of here!”

A powerful gust of wind reeled the clouds above back, revealing more of the black canvas. Her mane whipped against her face as the crimson mass finally faded. More of the floor around her fell away and she was left standing on a single section floating amidst the clutter of junk floating everywhere.

“Get me out of here right now! I want to wake up!”

Those words were the cutting-ribbon that finally caused the marble beneath her to give away. In that very moment, OddLuck was caught in her own screams as she was enraptured by the semblance of nonexistence.

Small crumbs of quartz followed her down, but she quickly lost sight of them as she was enveloped by more of the darkness. All the while she screamed, screamed, and screamed some more; but the vacuum sucked her vocals dry.

The library became a small dot similar to the galaxies in the Multiverse Cluster. However, it didn’t house that same ominous glow of hope she saw before. One thing set on her mind: terror. Anxiety. The expectation that she would never escape this ninth level of Tartarus.

Get me out of here… she thought. Then desperation took over and she tried yelling it, but her cries were cut off by the silence.

Get me out of here.

An image in her mind appeared.

The University of Friendship’s gymnasium flashed before her. Blanketed by fire, the flames licked the clouds. It was the biggest fire she had ever seen in her life.

“Get me out of here.”

White flower petals flew everywhere, being carried by an unpresent draft. A small drop of blood smacked against one of the petals. This was the first of a long stream to pour over the mass.

The library was now a small spark of glitter in the darkness. Any hope she once held was now far away from her. There is no turning back. A voice told her.

A screeching sound entered her ears. It was incomparable to anything she had heard before. It was like a record scratching, mixed with the sound of a wheel screeching and a mare screaming.

OddLuck walked to the balefire enrapturing the gymnasium. She slowly paced toward the door, ignoring the black canvas below her. Just as she reached the entrance, the double doors blew open with a mighty explosion and something struck her in the head.

When she opened her eyes, she realized she was holding what had hit her: a charred skull. The screeching took over her ears.

She recognized it as her own.

She could no longer think. Every rational part of her being evaporated with that last vision. In that moment, she stopped trying to scream and let the dark ocean take her.

For an entire minute, she felt her body relax. Her eyelids felt heavy. Tiredness took over, and she let herself fall into the haze. She was ready for the sweet embrace of her bed when her back touched against something wet.

She opened them back up to find that she was no longer falling. She was laying in a thin pool of water, its glassy surface unseen through the black canvas surrounding her.

OddLuck stood up, her legs wobbling a bit, afraid she might fall through the water’s surface. Content that she was now safe, she stared back up at the library—wherever it was. Her eyes were met with black on black.

In this moment, OddLuck was caught by the peace of nonexistence. The quiet atmosphere filled her ears. Soon she began walking around, and the soft pat, pat, pat of her hooves landing in the water drowned out any anxiety she had.

For the first time in forever, OddLuck felt a form of semblance in her life. Untraditional as it was, it gave her the chance to think clearly. The gods, what happened, her world, the prophecy. She thought about many things in this brief moment of time, but there’s only so much one could think up in their lifetime.

As she rolled these thoughts over in her mind, a bright glow filled her vision. Sheltering her eyes with a hoof, she could make out the silhouette of a rectangular object standing upright. A door.

As she got a clearer view, so did the light fade down to a dim glow. In front of her stood the large door. Solid gold and made with intricate carvings. The most notable one was an emblem of a flaming axe clashing with a sword in the center. A soft hum emanated from the doorway, the shiny surface greeting her warmly.

Welcome, Strange Clover, to everything your life has built up to. That voice in her head was back. It sounded male. This is something you’re ready for. Step through the doorway, and begin the prophecy. Bathe in the warm tub of faith and start the story.

The door was already open ajar when an even brighter light escaped through the crack. This did nothing to stop OddLuck and her newfound determination. That light was something she wanted—no, needed in her life.

The door opened all the way, and she was engulfed by something completely different. It wasn’t a darkness, no. It was anti-darkness. It was the light of her goal. Its warm rays caressed her body and soul, and as she felt the light rapture her with pureness, she said one last thing:

“Thank you, Alias.”

____________________

The covers danced over OddLuck’s face as she struggled to find the warm greeting of morning light—only to immediately regret it when the sun’s rays filtering in through the window burned her retinas and drove a new nail into her brain. She let out a groan and shoved her head beneath her pillow.

She was about to try and sleep the hangover off, when the alarm on her bedside boomed to life.

Wake up

Time to start your new day

Having it your own special way.

Wake up

Time to start your new day

Your destiny awaits

“Shut up!” she yelled through the groaning.

Wake up

Time to start your new day

Hey Clover your journey awaits

She yanked her head from beneath the pillow and looked at the alarm with widened, shocked eyes.

Tell Alias you’re on your way

Get out of bed and begin the day

Some things are at stake.

OddLuck blinked. Then blinked again. “What?”

Get out of bed you fucking virgin.

____________________

Loosestrife nearly flew off the couch when she heard the crash from OddLuck’s bedroom. She was about to run over to the door and knock, to see if her roommate was alright when the green mare came barging out. Before she could inquire, OddLuck ran into the bathroom and Loosestrife heard the streak of the shower knob turning and the spray letting out of the faucet.

Concerned, she got off the couch, walking up to the bathroom door. As she passed OddLuck’s room, she got a good look at what had been thrown: all over the floor, pieces of her alarm clock laid scattered, a sizable dent in the wall.

Loosestrife turned her attention to the green mare, who was drenching herself. “Are you okay?” she asked.

OddLuck took her attention away from the faucet and stared her roommate in the eyes, realizing she forgot to close the door. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she said, “Yeah, I’m just... hungover. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The shower knob became encapsulated by a green aura and with a smooth turn the spray stopped. She was shivering from the ice-cold water, but at least she was awake now.

OddLuck was about to bring a towel using her magic when she felt a brush against her side. Turning, she saw Loosestrife, offering her the cloth. “Need a prairie oyster?”

OddLuck took the towel and dried herself off, starting with the mane-down. With a smile, she said, “Thank you, Loosey…”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be in the kitchen. Neat necklace, by the way.”

Loosestrife left the bathroom before OddLuck caught on to what she meant. Her brain was on delay due to the headache hammering away, but as soon as she registered what had been said she looked down: yes, there was indeed a necklace. The very same crystal with a bloody hue was dangling from her neck.

It was not a dream.

It was real.

Everything in her life pieced together. So much of it shattered in an instant, but the remnants were glued back together. Despite the painful haze in her brain, her mind was now clear: a goddess had confronted her. A goddess had told her a story. A goddess had told her she is destined to play a role in that story.

For the first time ever, OddLuck was beginning to see the streetlight in her life clearly lighting the way.

This is how it all began. A simple dream in nonexistence. If you have made it this far into the story, I thank you for staying. However, I have to warn you: if at all you were depressed by anything within these first few chapters, I have to ask that you put the story down right now.

This is not your classic fairytale where the characters have happy endings. This is a story about OddLuck; not only her even. It is a story about the many characters OddLuck meets on the way. It is a story about what remains of us gods. It is a story too existential to be enjoyed from a fantastical point of view. So I do not stress this enough: this is a story of reality. This is a story of the characters within that reality.

This is the tale of OddLuck and her friends.

Author's Note:

Phew! Now that that's finally taken care of, this finally concludes the original setting I had in mind. Don't fret, I'm starting to take less time pushing chapters out. Chapter 4 is being written right now alongside a one-shot and after that I have a few more things planned before concluding Part 1. Thank you all who stuck through, now prepare for an intriguing story!

Comments

[Odd_Sarge]

This chapter really makes you feel like OddLuck.
8/10, it has a little something for everyone.

[Muggonny]

9867265
Get out of bed you fucking virgin.

[Ice Star]

More when.

[Muggonny]

10281906
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