Fairy Complicated Matters
Allow me to digress here for a while.
As I explained earlier on, Artemis Jr. hadn’t always intended on using the world of ponies to reclaim his family’s fortune. No, his first few attempts had been rooted in much more substantial evidence. I daresay that his previous plans had been more on the line of hopeful possibility, rather than utter impossibility.
The genius had sought every possible method under the sun to find one of the world’s most valuable resources: gold. He figured that, rather than dealing with the hassle of paper currency’s flawed conversion system, he would simply gather money at its raw source, and use it as he saw fit. Getting the gold would have been the hardest part of any plan he could scrape together.
In his research on gold collecting, the boy stumbled upon a very interesting fact. Out of all the many cultures in the world, they all had one common link: fairytales of mystical creatures that could grant wishes or bless the humans that found them. And if every culture shared these myths in common, why couldn’t it be that they were derived from fact? That was Artemis’s justification for his research into the many mythological entities he read about in tomes and tales.
Granted, through all his work, he’d never once found a single fairy or leprechaun. Time after time he’d gotten a lead, only to find it was some hoax by an over-enthusiastic human looking to scrounge up some dough in exchange for ‘miracles’. After countless failures in locating the mystical beings of lore, the genius decided to give up those particular ambitions.
As you know, he didn’t give up searching altogether; he simply turned his attention away from fairies. Which he would eventually learn was a big mistake. Because if he’d persisted only a short time longer, gone just a little further, and followed the one last lead he’d received from a contact of Butler’s, he would have stumbled upon a secret that would change his life forever, and reveal to him a world he’d never have imagined right beneath his own two feet.
But he didn’t. Rather than meeting the contact in Ho Chi Minh City and discovering the secrets of the fairy people, he turned his attention to even crazier possibilities. And what would you know; the impossible attempts were the ones that paid off.
Even though he didn’t intend on intentionally influencing their lives, the fairy people continued to carry on deep under the world. And despite his ignorance of their existence, fate has a way of ensuring certain things will always play out.
Now let’s get back to business, shall we?
…
Commander Root sat hunched over in his chair, head pounding and face flushed a beet red color. A toxic fungus cigar was pursed between his lips, clouds of smoke streaming from his mouth. He cradled his head in the palms of his hands, rubbing his temples soothingly. For the first time in a while, he’d been forced into field duty, to retrieve a troll, no less. Though the damages were minimal and the humans were mind-wiped, it had been a tough job convincing the Council not to fire his captain on the spot.
Mere hours ago he had led a team of LEPretrieval officers to the scene of a troll attack in the small town of Martina Franca. By the time they arrived, the troll had already been subdued by LEPrecon Captain Holly Short, who had acted with the purpose of saving the lives of over a dozen humans. That didn’t stop the Council from wanting her booted from the force. That had been her second major slip up, all because of her refusal to perform the Ritual.
Perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. Allow me to explain. Many centuries ago, fairies and humans lived in harmony on the surface. But after so much time, the humans began to get greedy, and eventually drove the mystical creatures below ground to live in peace. Deep below the earth’s crust existed an entire world of magical beings. Fairies, pixies, elves, goblins, and the like all coexisted deep in the tunnels they had crafted to escape the Mud Men, as they were known.
Within this underground haven there was a central law-enforcement agency, devoted to both protecting the People from each other and from the Mud Men. They did all they could to keep the secrets of the People safe from anyone who would try to abuse them. And for many centuries, the Lower Elements Police had succeeded. Though at times they’ve had to use serious magic to maintain the peace, they’ve kept everything in order for long enough.
The People were led by a group of powerful leaders known as the Council. They made all the final say-sos before any action could be taken in any scenario. If a time stop needed to be done, the Council had to approve it. If a troll needed to be hunted, the Council would have to give word to let an LEPretrieval team go to the surface and catch it. And above the Council’s word rested something of even greater importance: The Book.
Essentially the fairy Bible, The Book gives a specific set of instructions and rules that all fairies must follow in order to survive. Though there are many rules, only one of them is important to the current situation. You see, all fairies draw their power from the Earth. Mother Nature blesses them with the magical abilities they possessed. But though they draw power from the earth, they still only have a limited amount of magic to use.
And that’s where the Ritual comes into play. Every once in a while a fairy must perform the Ritual to refill their magic stock. An excerpt from The Book states, roughly translated, “From the earth thine power flows, given through courtesy, so thanks are owed. Pluck thou the magick seed, where full moon, ancient oak and twisted water meet. And bury it far from where it was found, so return your gift into the ground.”
Simply put each fairy much take an acorn from an ancient oak tree during the full moon and bury it in the ground a nice ways away from where it was taken. And that was exactly what Captain Short had been instructed to do after the whole troll fiasco had been settled.
Commander Root had saved her job twice now. Once after the Hamburg incident, and now with the troll trouble. As soon as the LEPretrieval team had the troll safely bound and on its way back to Chute E7, he’d commanded his best captain—and only female fairy to ever make it on the force—to perform the ritual posthaste. He couldn’t risk having her lack of magic bite them in the backside again.
Just as his headache was starting to fade away, some thanks owed to the cigar, a call came in for him on his desk intercom. Hesitantly, almost dreading what he would hear, the Commander punched the speaker button on the intercom.
What came out was a gruff voice, one that teemed with arrogance and paranoia. An odd combination, to be sure. It explained, “I’m picking up some weird signals on my scanners, Commander. You might want to take a look at this yourself.”
Root responded with a grunt, “Bring it up on the view screen, Foaly.”
“Yeah, I think it’d be best for you to come down to Ops, sir.” Hesitation. Concern. Those weren’t tones you normally hear from the technological centaur.
Root’s heart-rate skyrocketed, as did his blood pressure. He muttered through a puff of his cigar, “I’ll be right down. This better be good!” He punched the end call button and started his trek down to the Operations Booth.
The commander decided to cut through the police station lobby, which actually turned out to be a bad idea. Dozens of goblins crowded the station, protesting the ‘unwarranted arrest’ of their family members. In recent months, the dwarves and goblins had been feuding, and the crime rate within Haven had skyrocketed as fights broke out amongst the two races. Not in the mood for mindless jargon, Root placed his LEP helmet over his head and turned on all the appropriate filters, muting the world around him as he shouldered through the crowds.
His gaze landed on the back of a newspaper of one particular LEP janitor as he passed. The article was titled ‘Mud Man Claims Leprechaun Capture’. The commander scoffed as he trekked on. Mud Men didn’t even know what real leprechauns were anymore.
The human word ‘leprechaun’ was actually derived from the Lower Elements Police Reconnaissance force’s nickname, LEPrecon. Back in the day, all recon officers were equipped with specialized versions of the traditional leprechaun get up, and carried shillelaghs into combat. Nowadays they were outfitted with high-tech body suits and helmets, along with stun batons and nuclear-powered laser rifles. Much more effective.
Just as he finished his musings, the commander found himself in a room full of computers and other scientific equipment, topped with a whole bunch of egg-heads and geeks. The more politically-correct term was ‘techies’. At the center of the large room sat a large booth with solid, sturdy, tinted windows. You couldn’t see in, but the resident inside could see everything you did. Then again, he could do that even if you weren’t by the booth.
The magnetic door opened as a large centaur trotted out, a makeshift hat of tinfoil wrapped around his head. You see, the head geek in charge of all LEP communications and technology was none other than an overly-paranoid half-man, half-horse who was convinced that every Mud Man secret intelligence agency was out to read his mind. Thus the hat.
“Glad you could make it Commander, and in record time!” The beast plopped a hand on his superior’s shoulder and essentially dragged him into the safety of his personalized booth.
Root grunted, “Now’s not the time, Foaly. You said you had something important to show me?” He had never been one to beat around the bush. He’d worked for the LEP for far too long to do that.
The centaur shut the door behind them and pushed a button on a small remote he was holding. A large view screen flickered to life at the other end of the booth, displaying a map of Ireland. More specifically, a locale just outside of Dublin. A small blotch on the map was flashing red.
Foaly sat in his specially-designed chair a pointed a front hoof at the map. “Do you see that red mark?” The superior officer didn’t acknowledge the question, so he just continued on. “Well, my sensors have been picking up some unusual activity in that area.”
“And?” spat Root. “What kind of unusual activity.”
“Temporary time lapses, sir. Sort of like really short time stops.” The centaur clacked away at his keyboard, bringing up a bunch of statistics on the specified location.
The commander groaned, “So what does this have to do with anything?”
“Well sir,” the techy began, “There are only three reasons I can think of these anomalies occurring.”
“And they are?” Root’s patience was growing thin. His headache was starting to come back.
Foaly started hesitantly, “Scenario one: the Mud Men have mastered time travel.” No response, “Scenario two: the Mud Men have gotten their hands on fairy tech.” The commander shifted slightly at the thought of that happening. “And scenario three: my—”
“Let me guess, your equipment has been malfunctioning?” Root pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He knew exactly what was coming next. It had happened so many times before.
The centaur laughed, “Right you are, Julius! But we both know how impossible that is!”
Julius. First name. Insubordinate. Disrespectful. The commander groaned, “Don’t call me Julius! It’s Commander Root, to you.” He looked up at the blotch of red. “So what do you propose we do about it, Foaly?”
The centaur waved at the column of statistics that rested beside the map on the screen. At the top of the column it displayed the name and several photos of the residence: Fowl Manor. Just below it was a list of the residents, a detailed history of the building, the current pollutant count in the general area, and a small Russian news clip explaining the destruction of the Fowl Star, Artemis Senior’s personal vessel.
“I plan on monitoring the building for a little while longer to see if the anomalies persist. Like I said, they’ve only been temporary so far, but I expect that to change before long. Either that or I’m just being paranoid.” Foaly adjusted his foil hat, grinning happily at the commander.
Root sighed, “You do that. If you find anything else out, let me know.”
Just as the superior’s hand touched the door, a green dot beeped onto the view screen. The beep drew both residents’ attentions, the sterner of the two growing undoubtedly angry. You could tell because his face flushed to a beet-red hue.
As the dot flickered into range, so did a window of information over the original window on Fowl Manor. This one displayed information on a particular person, travelling pretty quickly toward the red blotch. Foaly chuckled, “Looks like it’s your old pal, Commander!” When he turned around, Root was already gone.
…
Captain Holly Short felt amazing. It had been quite a few moons since she’d last performed the Ritual, and she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be running hot. Well, technically she was flying, though she would’ve preferred a newer model of wings to the bulky gas-powered engines of yesteryear. But still, it was nice to be shielded, safe from the eyes of any spying Mud Men. She also enjoyed being able to feel the wind in her hair. Against regulations, she’d removed her helmet, hoping that Root wouldn’t scold her too hard for such a harmless action.
The bright moonlight shined down on her, bringing out the nut-brown tone of her skin and adding an appealing shine to her hazel hair. She hurried toward Chute E7, ready to get back to Haven and relax. There was no way she’d be assigned another mission for the night, considering her first had been an encounter with a rampant troll. Of course, she wasn’t in too big of a hurry to return. After all, it wasn’t often an LEP officer got to spend time alone above ground. And now that she was shielded, she was at no risk of harm.
Okay, ‘shielded’ is a pretty inaccurate word. It’s not as if she could be shot and not get hurt. No, fairies used the term ‘shield’ to refer to a phenomenon where their bodies vibrate at such high speeds that no ordinary eye can interpret the movement. To any normal human or surveillance device, a shielded fairy simply appears as a haze in the air. Most humans attribute the haze to heat or evaporation.
Silly Mud Men, giving complicated explanations to simple events.
At any rate, Holly enjoyed her time flying over the Italian countryside, slowly winding her way back to her shuttle in Chute E7, where she would make her descent back to haven. Of course, she barely made it back to Martina Franca when a call came in over her helmet’s headset. The voice that came out was so loud that she could hear it despite not having the earpiece equipped. Stopping in mid-flight, she placed the officer’s gear on her head and listened to the angry voice spouting commands.
“…regulations to remove your helmet, Captain Short! I should have your badge for this!” Commander Root essentially roared into his own mike, causing Holly to turn her speakers down for fear of going deaf.
She sighed, “Is there a problem, Commander?” She liked to maintain a professional attitude at all times. As if she really had a choice, considering how hard Root was on her.
The superior officer growled, “Yes, there is, in fact, a problem, Captain! Our old friend Diggums is on the loose again!”
“Mulch?” Holly blurted. She couldn’t really help it. That dwarf had been arrested and sentenced over twenty times, and at least half of those times he’d managed to escape. She almost believed he deserved to be free after all the times he’d outsmarted the commander. She would never say that to anyone, though. You know, except for maybe Foaly.
Right on cue, the centaur neighed into their conversation, “That’s right, Holly. Mulch is headed for a large mansion just outside of Dublin. I’ll bring up a map on your visor.”
“You want me to arrest him?” She thought about it for a moment and cheered, “It would be my pleasure, sir!”
Root coughed, probably puffing on a cigar, “That’s a negative, Captain. The residence he’s approaching has been home to some strange happenings lately.” After several silent seconds, he continued, “I only want you to keep an eye on him. Don’t let him sneak off our radar. I’m taking the Tara chute and meeting up with you outside the manor.”
Captain Short sighed, “Yes sir. I’ll keep my visor on him.”
Foaly whinnied, “Just stay away from the building, no matter what. I’m not so sure that the anomalies are entirely harmless.”
“Roger that, Foaly.” With that, the three-way call ended, and the separate parties went on their ways.
Holly reached a hand to her belt to ensure that her weapon was still there. After all the trouble, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d dropped it in the fray with the troll. She turned her shield back on and took off as fast as she could toward the destination on her visor map.
…
Ah, dirt. Irish dirt, no less. It had been a while since the kleptomaniac dwarf had eaten anything so pure and mineral-dense. The best part was that he’d just escaped from an LEP prison in the nick of time to catch the last tourist shuttle to Tara. On a full moon like tonight, it was a cinch to sneak into the tourist crowds and head up to the beautiful landscapes of the surface. That’s just what Mulch had done. Slipped right under Captain Short’s nose, too, back at Police Plaza. She’d been too occupied with her thoughts to notice him stealing a pixie’s passport.
He tunneled along through the ground, his fingers already twitching for something new to steal. He’d caught wind during a brief burrow through Dublin about a super-rich family living in the outskirts, so of course that’s where he was headed. The Fowls, if memory served correctly. And since he was travelling by dirt, nothing aside from really powerful thermal sensors would be able to detect him.
Dwarves loved dirt. They were miners by nature. They were physically and biologically designed to burrow. They could unhinge their jaws and consume tons of dirt and rocks in the span of seconds. The materials they consume are metabolized at impossible speeds, and are excreted at almost the same instant they are taken in, with the exception of a few instances. Essentially, as dwarves excrete as they ingest, their tunnels are mostly self-sealing, stopping any predators in their tracks. Mostly.
Dwarves also had advanced senses of feeling. They were in tune with the earth that they burrowed in. Just as Mulch passed under a small lake outside of Dublin, he felt the rumble of a family of rabbits hopping along in a grotto a few miles north. He could also feel the vibration of a plumbing system at work just west of his location. On a dime, he turned and shot through the dirt toward what he knew had to be his target residence.
As he approached the target of his ambitions, the soil slowly began to change in taste. It wasn’t an unpleasant taste, but it most definitely was not to the kleptomaniac’s delight. Less pure and more…intoxicating. Red wine. Gustafson 1808, if memory served him right. It had been a long time since he consumed any human alcohols, but this wasn’t a taste you simply forgot. Wherever he was headed, it definitely had class. And that was good enough for him.
He followed the taste of wine all the way to a weak point in the building’s foundations. In the spot where the most wine had seeped into the soil, the dwarf shot upward, stopping just short of the floorboards of what he could only assume was a wine cellar. He placed an ear to the boards, listening for any type of movement in the house above him. If there was a Mud Man awake in the building, it had to have been paralyzed, because it sure wasn’t moving an inch.
Feeling that it was safe, Mulch gently cut the boards with his bottom teeth, making little to no noise and opening a path to exit out of. He shook the rest of the dirt from his hind quarters, and leaped into the cellar. He saved a little bit of gas in case he needed an extra boost to escape from potential pursuers, and then started toward a nearby staircase.
There was a single light hanging from the ceiling of the room, apparently always on in case one needed to enter the room. The thief chuckled at the unintentional consideration his victims had for him. He started up the steps, taking care to walk lightly. Such an old set of stairs could easily give you away with an unnaturally loud creak or groan. That’s how he’d been caught once before, and he didn’t plan on doing it again.
After several minutes of tense tiptoeing, he was free from the stairs and faced with an old locked wooden door. A simple keyhole, nothing too spectacular.
Mulch reached into his beard, plucking out a sturdy hair. Dwarf hair is radically different from the human variety. A dwarf’s beard and head hairs were actually a matrix of antennae that helped them to navigate and avoid danger below ground. Once removed from its pore, the hair immediately stiffens in rapid rigor mortis. Mulch twisted the end of his hair in the seconds before it became completely rigid; it was a perfect lock-picking utensil.
After two tumblers he was in. Simple Mud Man locks were no match for an expert thief such as himself. He traversed down the hall beyond the threshold, taking note of the single camera that made its sweep back and forth. It held a thirty second rotation with a single blind spot. It was simple enough for even an amateur to avoid. At the other end of the hall up a set of more modern stairs rested a much classier room.
It looked quite a bit like a study, with bookshelves lining the walls and a fireplace at the back. A large portrait of a middle-aged gentleman hung above the fireplace. The grin on the man’s face was unnerving, even for the magical being.
Or should I say ex-magical being? You see another rule that the fairy people must abide by is a simple one. No fairy can enter a human’s home without some sort of permission. If they do, their magic will be drained…quite hastily and gruesomely, might I add. Projectile vomiting, stomach and muscle cramps, migraines, the whole nine yards. A normal human would be convinced he was dying if they had to suffer such a pain.
But Mulch had sacrificed his magic long ago. He felt that magic was useless for a dwarf that spent his days mining under the earth. There was nothing magical about eating and digesting dirt, in all honesty. He found the thrill of thievery to be more magical than any real magic could ever be. And so, although he was still of the People, he was not magical in most regards. He was simply biologically superior.
The dwarf examined the walls of the room carefully, certain that it would be more secure than the other ones. And he was right. There were six cameras along the walls, three of which moving in semi-circular patterns monitoring the floor, while the other three were stationary, pointing in the general area of the portrait. Mulch cursed his luck at not being able to access the portrait, and he was far too wise to attempt it at all. Instead he simply snuck past the floor cameras and mounted the staircase beyond the following door.
Such a missed opportunity sent a surge of anger up his spine, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He heard a small squeak ring out from a room at the end of an adjacent staircase, and decided to check it out. In the room he found much more than he bargained for. Cages of rats and other rodents lined one wall, while multiple types of advanced human technology were scattered about the place. On a table at the side of the room sat a stale piece of toast and half a bowl of spoiled scrambled eggs.
To the side he noticed a moderate-sized chamber with clear plexi-glass windows, obviously some sort of test center. Looking in, he saw a small pool of bile and the broken remains of an unfortunate rat. On the other side of the laboratory, opposite both the chamber and the door he’d come in from, was a nice, sleek elevator. Except for a small wedge between the doors, they looked almost high-class. They reminded him of a hotel in New York he’d robbed a couple decades back.
And then the alarms started to blare. The animals went wild. The elevator sealed with some sort of iron bars. The door he’d come in from slammed shut, the same bars covering it. He was locked within the room as a gruff voice called through the intercom above him, “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t move an inch.”
The voice was genuine, real. It wasn’t a recording. No recording could ever sound that sinister or threatening. Mulch swallowed hard, thinking to himself that an LEP prison cell would probably be more comfortable than what the Mud Man that had just spoken to him would do.
...
Captain Short hovered roughly three-hundred feet in the air, waiting for Commander Root to arrive. She was staring down on a very unique, medieval castle-style mansion. Through her visor’s infrared filter she could see four humanoid sources of heat. One was large, kicking back beside multiple other sources, presumably monitors or computers. She swallowed when she saw the figure shift. It was massive. She would almost compare it to a full grown black bear or a baby troll.
Another was slightly smaller, lying down away from any source of heat. Its heat signature was faint, so it must have been sleeping. The same for the third, except it was only slightly bigger and had a stronger signature. But the last one was what caught her attention more so than the rest.
It was moving. Through a series of rooms below the surface. It was small, about the average size of a fairy. And wouldn’t you know it, that’s just what she was looking for. With a triumphant tone, she cheered, “Gotcha, Mulch!”
Through her headset came the commander’s voice, “I’m on my way, Captain. Hold your position. Don’t let the bandit out of your visor.” He chuckled, a very unusual expression from the leader of the LEP.
“Roger that, sir.” Holly responded, excitement in her voice. She’d captured Mulch once before, and so had Root, but they’d never worked together on this particular fairy.
A gruff voice called through the speaker, “Watch yourself, Holly. The anomalies are starting to bug me more and more. I can’t figure out what caused them, and I have no way of knowing when the next one will happen.” Foaly summoned a list of statistics about the manor onto the captain’s visor screen, finally explaining what the ‘anomalies’ he kept talking about were.
Captain Short rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I’ll be fine, Foaly. As long as they stay within the manor, I don’t see the prob—” Her vocal cords locked up as she looked back down at the spot where Mulch had been standing. Suddenly, out of literally nowhere, a fifth humanoid heat signature appeared behind the dwarf’s own. She stammered, “C-Commander…we have a problem…” Pushing a few buttons on the side of her helmet, she sent images of the infrared scan to both connected parties.
Root whistled, “So the Mud Men caught Mulch. Big deal. If they finish him now, we won’t have to put up with these impromptu missions anymore.” He then groaned, “But how’d that small one get behind him?”
Foaly coughed, having been in the middle of a sip of water, “Commander, according to my sensors, an anomaly just happened! Right before Captain Short sent the image!” The two field officers could hear the clacking of keys in their ears, the centaur getting right to work.
Captain Short moaned, “The small Mud Man, behind Mulch, just appeared out of nowhere.” She shook her head disbelievingly. “What could that possibly mean?!” A hand clasped her shoulder firmly, sending her into a short jolt of panic. She instinctively drew her weapon and aimed it at the figure before realizing who it was.
The commander chuckled, “Don’t be so jumpy, Captain. What do you got, Foaly?”
A loud banging caused some harsh feedback in the speakers before Foaly groaned, “Whatever’s letting my sensors pick up the anomaly is focused around the small Mud Man’s wrist. He must have some device distorting time.” He continued, “And if humans can manifest that kind of power, just imagine how long it’ll be before they reach us…”
“Don’t be so ignorant, you mule. Even if they can time travel or whatever, how’s that gonna help them get miles below the earth’s crust without dying?” Commander Root stared down at the five heat signatures, four of which getting closer to one another in rapid succession. The small Mud Man and Mulch stood in place, with the other Mud Men closing in without delay.
Captain Holly sighed, “What if they kill him, Commander?”
“That’ll be one less thorn in my side. It’s his own stupidity.”
Foaly groaned, “And the distortion? What will we do about that?”
“As long as we aren’t invited in, there’s nothing we can do.” Root shrugged. Facts were facts, after all.
Holly looked down. She shouldn’t have. It would’ve been less painful. The entire mansion’s heat signature skyrocketed into solid white before the visor simply shut itself off. In fact, her wings shut off as well. Followed by her headset. She looked to her side to see the commander suffer the same series of events. And then, suddenly, gravity kicked in. But it wasn’t normal gravity. No, this gravity pulled them directly toward the manor, rather than straight down to earth.
Earless, voiceless, and flightless, the two plummeted at an 80 degree angle toward the last seen location of the Mud Men and dwarf.
…
Mulch didn’t move an inch. He was afraid to. The walls and floor were all solid metal. Sure, his teeth could bite right through, but it would screw his digestive track up something fierce. Metal alloys were almost as bad as asphalt for dwarf biology. The doors were all sealed, and there wasn’t a single opening in any of the walls. He was, quite impressively, trapped. The Mud Man from earlier didn’t bother to speak to him again. He was probably descending into the lab to kill the trespasser anyway.
The weirdest thing happened. While Mulch was occupied by the sound of the alarm and thoughts of being murdered because of his lack of magic, a bright golden light flashed behind him. When he finally turned to examine it, he found a rather young human standing there, a curious expression on his face and a dapper suit on his body. One wrist had a fancy machine attached to it, while the other housed an expensive-looking Rolex.
The alarms suddenly stopped, and Mulch’s nerves grew even shakier. He knew that any minute now the large Mud Man would show up with some type of firearm, and he wouldn’t have a chance of escaping.
Artemis chuckled, “My, my, aren’t you an odd-looking creature? What sort of beast are you? An imp? Perhaps you’re a leprechaun. No, your hair isn’t near red enough.” The boy continued his musings for several moments before the creature interjected.
“Doesn’t matter what I am, Mud Boy. When that beast of yours shows up, I’m toast.” He spat on the floor of the lab, utter disappointment on his face.
The genius tittered, “If that were the case, you unusual humanoid, then you would be dead right now.” He waved a calm hand toward the door Mulch had entered from.
The dwarf flinched toward the entrance, and sure enough, there stood a massive human roughly the size of a bear, a primitive gun aimed right for his head. Mulch swallowed hard, unsure of how to react. He chuckled nervously, “N-no need to get violent, fellas. Let’s work this out like civilized men.”
“But you aren’t a man, are you? You look more like a monster. No matter. If you are but a petty thief, I haven’t time for you. The world of ponies is calling me.” He looked down at his Rolex, noticing how it had stopped ticking. “Butler, incarcerate this thief. I’ll be going back now.”
“Very well, Artemis.” He nodded at his charge, then directed the following toward Mulch, “Put your hands up and your head down!”
And then something inconceivable happened. The gas Mulch had kept stored actually found a time to shine. In one swift motion, the dwarf undid the pouch on his back—used to allow waste an exit point—and let the fumes shoot forth with bullet-force wind. The impact not only nauseated the bodyguard, but sent him flying backward into his sister. The Sig Sauer P226 he had wielded went flying across the room, right toward the uninvolved boy.
Just as Artemis pushed the button to activate his portal, the gun made contact to its hard surface and fired off a bullet into the wall of the room. The sudden burst of heat and force of the gun’s impact sent sparks flying from the genius’s wrist. Those sparks reacted with the portal that was in the process of opening, and with a deafening boom, the solid gold light spread through the walls and holes of the manor. Everything heated up intensely, and the two creatures not in the room at the current time were pulled toward the device.
The walls and materials of the mansion disappeared in the golden light, and Artemis watched three other figures—Butler, Juliet, and the dwarf—slowly get pulled closer to him. Two other figures entered the field of light at tremendous speeds, almost crashing into him thanks to the pull of the source of light. Oddly enough, he couldn’t see the figure of his mother, who should have been in range of the golden light in her attic bedchambers.
And suddenly, almost as suddenly as it began, the light faded and the booming noise ceased. The six victims of the device’s reaction were left in the middle of an empty meadow, a cool breeze gracing them as the sun blanketed them with comforting rays. The genius felt a sudden wave of fatigue consume his mind and body. Everyone else had already collapsed in unconscious heaps. The last thing the boy noticed before blacking out was that the two new creatures’ ears were pointed unnaturally.
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Don't expect another chapter for a while...
My brain is fried between my Series Marathon of MLP and research for writing this...
Maybe if/when you edit earlier chapters with respect to the story as a whole, most of this explanation could be shifted to the first chapter. It seems odd to put so much backstory in at chapter ten.
You're doing an excellent job, comrade. th04.deviantart.net/fs71/200H/i/2011/176/a/2/rainbow_nyan___nyan_dash__by_creshosk-d3jxt9o.png
2148648 Ah, but you see, none of this was relevant until this point. Even if I wanted to at the beginning, it wouldn't matter to the plot as a whole, because the fairy community and the idea of it was completely unrelated to Artemis's Equestrian adventure. To explain that he originally hunted Fairies would be useless information and would detract from the current plot up until now. And the fairy community wouldn't even get involved until the night of Artemis's interview with Twilight.
Put simply, none of the material introduced in this chapter was relevant until after the genius's Q&A with Twi. Not even the stuff about his original ambitions. That's why I say,
Plenty of other 'great works of literature' have used the same method I did here.
It's mostly just a cheap cop out, but DON'T TELL ANYONE!
The ponies must be having so many heart attacks from weird creatures popping up randomly
i hate you, now i ll have to go and read the eight books to read this crossover....
Great chapter. I look forward to the next one however long it may take.
WHY? WHY "AN"? WHY?! IT SHOULD BE "A", NOT "AN"! "A"!!! I SAW THIS IN THE NOVELS REPEATEDLY AND IT DROVE ME FUCKING CRAZY!!!
take your time
but hurry
Now, imagine the mass confusion that Artemis AND Twilight will now face.
2148920 Well, it's pronounced "an el-ee-pee recon team," so the "an" is correct. If it was pronounced "leprechaun team," then you would be correct. A similar situation is how one spells out the acronym NYPD instead of saying "nipped." I don't think a publishing company would miss a typo that many times.
2148920 Actually. "LEP" is pronounced "Eleepee". It starts with a vowel sound, therefore it is "an", not "a".
I asked my Literature professor when I was re-reading the books.
2149361 Meh, the neck thing is nit-picky.
As for a 'surrogate Foaly', just you wait, my friend.
2148846 You only really need the first book, as that's the canon that this story uses.
2149515 'Arrived' usually implies that you traveled or journeyed. But I don't think 'teleporting' falls under those categories.
How could Holly have been in the Manor if she wasn't invited? Was she there at all?
Also, also
The tuba
2149632 Umm... The tuba? I...what?
2149632 She was outside, but the teleporter pulled her in.
2149480 well you just cutted my work share thank you. i think i ll start reading it tomorrow. Is it good?
2149827 Are you asking me if the Artemis Fowl series is good, or if this story is good?
Either way, the answer is an irrevocable YES!
In addition to some theoretical infrared detector, Mulch could probably be picked up by Ground Penetrating Radar as well, given how close to the surface he was at that point. *the more you know*
2149527Except that the word 'teleport' literally means to travel far distances. In a more general sense, it is to travel from one pla()
()ce to another instantaneously. Now that I'm finished thinking with portals I can finally say that this story is REALLY starting to feel like an Artemis Fowl story.
2149862 ok, i must thank you i just marathon read the first book and it was just what i have been looking for, it is fantastic and very fun thing to read. I ll get to your fic sometime later now ill start the second book XD....or maybe go to sleep ....sic in the morning
2149418
2149527 "Arrival" is used in "The Lost Colony", so I think it would be appropriate.
2150959 Huh. Well then. Um... Yeah. So you just cannonballed the first book? Well, the series only gets better and better from there!
2150935>>2151282 At any rate, I believe going from Earth to Equestria in the blink of an eye counts more as teleporting. I simply decided to use the word 'spawn' because...
Fuck it. I can't reason with it. I'm a gamer, and that shines through right there.
That was an impressive chapter! I seriously enjoyed that. The amount of problems on Earth after such an event. I could not imagine the United States and other technologically advanced countries not picking up on these energy "anomalies" either with our current technology, and if they didn't catch the anomalies, well, the massive teleportation field that was just generated would get their attention for sure. I just wonder how that is all going to pan out for the fairies with Root gone.
2149720 The Tuba is a dwarf gesture in which the dwarf in question unflaps their pants, bends over and empties the contents of their bowels in the direction of the person they wish to express their displeasure towards. In Dwarf Culture this is an extremely offensive gesture, wars have been fought over the Tuba.
NEW CHAPTER. nomnomnomnom please sir, can I have another?
I wonder if Celestia, as Equestria´s immortal ruler, can be a bigger chessmaster than Artemius.
Awesome!!! So You Put In The People? Can't Say That I'm That Surprised.
It Gets Better Every Time!! 
Hurry Up And Do A New Chapter Please.
I must say this is looking better than expected. I do apologise for my earlier transgressions, perhaps they were too... hasty.
2206472 Were you one of the few skeptical about the addition of the People?
Don't worry, I can understand why you would be. I plan on trying to get everything right. Hell, I keep a copy of the first book right beside me in case I need to look up some Book One canon.
2167904 Hello Kanaya.
Good job on this fic author. And do I see hints of me in there?
Before I start, I just want to say that this can't be much of an Artemis book if there is no Holly.....
2206993 COME ON!
2167904 Why Would You Type Like This It Is Just Painful To Read.
2152612
Ooooooooooooooooh. That explains things.
>Let me guess, you’re equipment has been malfunctioning?
*your
Shit has officially hit the fan.