I was awake for the remainder of the night, Mr. 33 and 111 by my side in my fevered stupor. The orange mare’s sister, the yellow filly, kept us company through the early morning hours, until the sun finally began to rise above the horizon. Off and on she nodded out, too young to handle the strain of caring for another into the late hours. The mages didn’t seem to sleep, instead focused on my health. Somewhere between Ghastly Gorge and Sweet Apple Acres I had contracted something.
The cold sweat drenching my forehead and the burning in my chest was evidence of an illness that threatened to steal my sanity. I prayed that ponies could not contract the illness, as I would never wish such a pain on any other living creature, friend or foe. The effects of Flare were tame in comparison to the pain rending my heart that night. It seemed unlikely that Black Mages could contract the illness, given their lack of biology and their immunity to the elements that we passed through.
I tossed and turned, my insides shifting from on fire to tight knots periodically over the moonlit nightmare. I was living a proverbial hell, wanting nothing more than to die at the time. Looking back, I’m glad I did not.
As the sun lifted above the horizon, the orange mare entered to check on me. There being nothing for her to do, she carried her sister to her room, laying her down for actual rest. The Black Mages answered a few vague questions that I was too preoccupied to listen to, and then she left. As the warm rays of the celestial body cascaded through the window and comforted my aching body, a loud roar rang out from the edge of the Everfree Forest.
Even in my fevered haze I could hear the roar. I could hear the pounding. I could feel the energy. A manticore, larger than the one we encountered in the forest, was heading for the farmhouse. At least I thought I could sense it coming. When I attempted to warn the mages, they acted as if they couldn’t understand me. It’s very possible that they couldn’t. It was equally possible for me to be having a hallucination.
Just as I began to accept my thoughts as paranoia, reality came crashing down on all of us. Literally. I felt the weight of a lion stomp on me, followed by planks of wood tearing into my flesh. The box spring and floor below me gave easily under the monster’s force, sending me plummeting to the first story of the house in pain and confusion. The mages fell with me, unable to escape the collapsing woodwork.
I heard the Apple family let out a conglomerate shriek of fear, the door to the house slamming open in a stampede of hooves. I could hear the confused mumblings of an old mare from through the doorway while her grandchildren attempted to explain the commotion. The Black Mages wasted no time in casting their spells, the manticore on top of me catching fire and setting the already-destroyed paneling ablaze.
A sudden fury filled my every muscle. In an instant, the sickness that swallowed me evaporated in a steam of anger and fear. The beast crushing down on me was not natural, not even for Gaia. It had taken a very concentrated source of Mist to create such a raging beast. The type of Mist that could be generated by a Trance. Specifically 111’s Trance in Ghastly Gorge.
No, that’s not how it works. Trances are fueled by Mist, not the other way around. Then where did the Mist come from? I began to think back to my dream, wondering if it held any merit.
But my anger quickly turned my thoughts to ash. Before I was aware of it, I wrapped the manticore in a ball of magical energy that sent it rocketing back through the walls it had destroyed. I had just enough time to stand up and test my muscles before I heard it crash outside the house. Almost without thinking about it, I walked toward the thud, the Black Mages following me cautiously.
The second my body crossed the destroyed threshold of the farm’s broken wall, a claw pierced through my chest from the side. The manticore had anticipated my actions. It was clever, but it was not powerful enough to handle me. Without so much as a wavered breath, I engulfed it in a ball of fiery energy, sending its flesh melting and its brain boiling. It took barely a second for the entire creature to enter a liquid state. Once its claws shriveled and left my side, I healed myself with a nice Cura and continued my rhythmic march toward the edge of the forest.
As I reached the half-way point, citizens of Ponyville began to gather around the farmhouse to assess the damage. Five particular ponies crowded around the orange mare, their voices flooding with concern. My senses intensified; I was able to hear every syllable muttered within the crowd. I could see through the blinding darkness of the Everfree Forest and I could smell the blood that had drained from my wounds during the healing process.
I could feel the vibrations of the ground as a pack of manticores charged at me.
I blinked. I shouldn’t have.
I can never forgive myself for what happened at the edge of the forest on that day.
I can never give him his life back.
He was innocent.
He wanted to live in peace.
He wanted to make friends with everyone.
Even when he knew he would die, all he wanted to do was care for a baby Chocobo.
And because of me, he died.
I…
Forgive me. Please. I beg of you, Mr. 33…
Three manticores sank their claws into my body, poison shooting through my veins at a normally-fatal rate. Two manticores ignored me completely, each targeting a different mage. Mr. 111 was prepared, wrapping one in a cyclone of wind and rock. Mr. 33 was not prepared. His naivety was his death. He was too horrified by the sight of my blood to react to the beast ramming him. I watched the halves of his body split apart. I watched his lack of blood spill on the ground. I watched as his golden eyes faded into the blackness of his lack of body.
I listened as the remnants of his voice called out to me. His dying words were genuine…and I quote… “Thank you, Kuja.” Thanks…for what? For letting him die twice?! For letting him face his mortality in an endless wait for the end?! For letting him be ripped apart and wiped from the afterlife?!
No living creature should ever have to die more than once! None! But he…he never faltered in the face of his mortality! Even when his brothers waited for death to swallow them, he took solace in providing life for another creature! Out of all of the puppets I created, he deserved to live! The only mage comparable to him was Vivi! And now…
My heart-rate skyrocketed. My illness and anger and fear were all drowned in sorrow. I couldn’t control anything anymore. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t see or hear. All I could do was feel. I could feel the pink glow of Trance engulf me. I could feel its warmth swallow all conscious thought. I could feel myself casting spells and muttering words. And, in my sorrow-induced state of higher being, I could feel myself telling me not to cast it.
But I did.
I cast Ultima.
And…controlled it.
When I had cast Ultima in the past, it destroyed an entire planet with little resistance. I nearly wiped out all of existence with the spell. But now, because I was fighting for others and not myself, I was able to control the power. I was Tranced for the memory of a friend. I was able to gain control of myself as I cast the spell.
And the manticores ceased to exist. The inter-dimensional energy of Ultima devoured the manticores whole, leaving nothing as a reminder of their existences. No reminder at all…except for Mr. 33…
Tears poured from my eyes. I’d never felt such emotions before my dying moments under the Iifa Tree. And now…I was openly crying for a puppet that I had cursed to face a second death. Mr. 111 stood over his brother’s tattered clothes, the blackness of the magical body beginning to fade away into the ether. If he’d had tear ducts, they would have been dry by the time the morning ended. I…had nothing to say in my Tranced state.
Instead I focused my attention to the monsters pouring forth from the forest. Each one met a death similar to the first manticore, except none of them gained mercy. They each suffered before they died, like Mr. 33’s murderer should have. Instead it had been given a painless death, much to my dismay. And after an hour of killing the forest monsters, they all just seemed to stop coming.
Ponies had gathered around my glowing aura, watching me wipe the beasts from Equestrian history. Mr. 111 knelt beside his brother, sobbing uncontrollably for the puppet. If I had been in control of my emotions, I would have sobbed with him.
I…truly am sorry.
But it all ended in a sudden moment of clarity.
The end was beginning. Lord Avon’s play! My dream! It all started to become clear to me. I started to piece the puzzle together, but the clarity ended all too soon. My Trance faded, and I fell to the ground in a clump of flesh and tears and blood.
A quote from my very own mouth echoed in my ears.
“The weak lose their freedom to the strong. Such is the way of the strong. And it is the providence of nature that only the strong survive. That is why I needed strength.”
Mr. 33 was weak. He lost to the manticore. I survived. But I didn’t survive because of my strength. I survived because of my purpose. This second life was not meant to be a happy one. I was not brought to Equestria by some unnamed power because it wanted me to have fun. I was brought here to protect it. To save it from an unnamed monster.
And Vivi would be joining me. He felt real to me in my dream because he was really there. At some point in time, he will have that same vision.
That was my final thought before losing consciousness…
I'm not sure if you'll feel the same, but I definitely developed some feels while writing this chapter.
Maybe I'm just soft.
Or maybe I was extremely tired late at night with insomnia.
(HINT! It was the latter!)
Enjoy!
Mr....33....
You shall never..*sniff* Be forgotten...
*sniff*....33....
Right in the feels. Mr. 33's second death was unexpected...
A good chapter nonetheless. Kuja finally is able to control his Ultima now. I only wonder who's gonna be the main antagonist to this story...
... This is a previous event? Before Vivi arrived?
... and the Citizens indicated that Kuja left with both Black Mages, With both being alive or was I wrong?
It kind of detracts from the suspense and loss when you already know they all left town alive...
2443564 Huehuehuehue
I'm way ahead of you my friend! You'll find out in Kuja's next installment what I mean.
(I also never explicitly state that ALL THREE OF THEM made it to Appleloosa, just "they.")
1680597What system is it for? Because I somewhat like Final Fantasy. I've played 6, 12, and 13. Though I never beat 12 or 13. Mainly because I stopped playing 12 when my PS2 got taken away. And in 13, I quit because the boss I was fighting was a pure and utter bitch. Can't remember the name of the boss, all I know is that I got him down to low health (like 5-10%) and he fully healed. Then, I somehow lucked out and got him back down to the same hp. Well guess what... he fucking healed again! And then he killed me. At that point I said 'Fuck this game!' and quit.
2445844 It was for PlayStation 1. You can also download it off of PSN on PS3 or PSP.
FF13 was by far the single worst game in the series. All of the other were amazing. All of the ones created by SquareSOFT (Nine and down) were the best. 9 is by far my favorite.
2447345Well damn. PS1 games have pretty bad graphics (compared to systems of today). Also, I don't have that much money. How much is FFIX on PSN?
2447777 First of all, graphics don't count for shit if the game itself is shit. And trust me, even for a PS1 game, FF9 has amazing graphics. The story is overwhelming and the character development is full of feels all the way through. It's fucking worth the 'bad graphics'.
It's also only $10 on PSN. Compare that to a brand new $50 game that'll give you at most 20 hours of good gameplay.
Ten whole dollars for a game that WILL, WITHOUT A DOUBT, give you at least 40 hours of gameplay, and that's only IF you skip all the side stuff and rush straight through the story.
It's a fucking amazing game. If you have any sense of what a good RPG is, you'll love this game.
2449618Trust me, I'm a major RPG fan. Only thing I hate is when you go through the storyline, maybe you grind a little to keep ahead of the enemies. You blast your way through because you powered up beforehand, and then you get to the boss. All of a sudden, the boss is your level, if not 10 higher, and proceeds to rape you. Hate it when that happens. And idk if I have $10, but I'll look around.
2450016 Enemies don't level with you, so if you level grind before an area, assuming you're supposed to be in that area, the enemies will be punks. None of that 'suddenly more powerful than you for no good reason' crap.
2451263Yay!
This story is a bit boring, honestly. While very well written I find myself rather put off by the incredibly focused narrative viewpoints. I understand the format of diary entries has inherent constraints, but those do not necessitate a viewpoint limited to a introspection and observation alone. Especially when so much of that observation is filler space between relevant thoughts, dialogue, and events.
At least the recent chapters have more vibrance (and I don't just mean the battles).
Also have a few questions.
Why was everypony calling Vivi "kid"?
Do you expect me to assume ponies are surprised Vivi used magic when he calls himself a mage? They know the word.
Why did nopony know who or what Vivi was if the others had been there first, nor tell him about them sooner?
Why hasn't Twilight and or the Princesses been more involved? Twi should be all over a visitor and the Princesses should have been seeking more answers as to where these visitors came from and investigating the mist.
Why wasn't the town prepared for more attacks with more visitors?
2464075 Oh dear Celestia, actual questions! I...don't know what to do! No one ever questions my writing! AHHHHH!
You raise valid points.
Point-of-view: Have you ever heard of Stream of Consciousness writing? It's a literary form where the narrator tells everything they think in the order they think it, as they think it. It is raw, unedited, and almost as if you are reading their direct thoughts. If you want a recognized example, check out "The Jilting of Granny Weatherall".
Kid: Vivi is most often portrayed with a childlike voice, is very short, and timid to most extents. Therefore, he is seen as a kid due to his high pitch and shy disposition at first appearance. He also is technically only about 18 months old when he dies in Gaia. Though he knows more than most normal people his age, he is still ignorant to a lot of social conventions and interactions, He basically just comes off as a kid.
Vivi's Magic: The ponies never actually see a Black Mage use magic. At the time Mr. 111 uses his magic to repel the manticore, the townsfolk are absorbed in the damage to Sweet Apple Acres and not paying attention to the action in the woods. It isn't until Kuja Trances that they start to watch. They see Kuja use it, but he isn't a Black Mage like 111, 33, or Vivi. It could simply be a name given due to appearance to the stereotypical mage (long jacket, covered face, pointed hat)
Townsfolk Reactions: While resembling the other Black Mages, Vivi is still quite different. He is shorter, different colors, and doesn't seem directly influenced by another being's presence (such as Kuja). He gives a feeling of innocence compared to the other visitors who had already encountered battles. He is similar enough to lead them to believe he is one, but not for a fact. A Zebra is shaped like a pony, but that doesn't make it a pony.
Mention of Kuja: In Kuja's next installment you will learn why nopony goes out of the way to go into detail about his visit or the Black Mages with him.
Twilight and the Princesses: All in due time, my friend. All in due time.
Preparation: So one weirdo shows up and the animals attack. It hadn't happened before Kuja arrived, and he was supposed to leave the day after arriving. What, should all the townsfolk start a neighborhood watch and monitor the forest just because animals attack one night? The Everfree isn't known for its rainbows, y'know. And they don't know enough about Gaia and Terra's laws to connect the dots.
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POV: I am intimately familiar with stream of consciousness both because it's how I brainstorm and Pinkie Pie is a living stream of consciousness herself.
I am not complaining about how Vivi and Kuja write out their thoughts, feelings, observations, and events. I am complaining about what it is they (you) are choosing to share. In general it is not a good idea for your story to contain scenes that do not serve either plot, setting, or character.
Also, for SoC the descriptions are rather bland, with minimal personality that should be coming through.
There is lots of colorization to how they relate to their pasts, but not to the present.
"Kid": Fair enough.
Magic: Regardless of that, Vivi identified himself as a "Black Mage" in chapter one. Even without previously meeting Black Mages, the ponies should know the definition of the word "mage" is "magic user".
Townsfolk: That's all superficial. That's like saying that 2 zebras would be assumed different races because they are wearing different coloured hats. Plus he said he was a Black Mage from Gaia in chapter 1.
Kuja, Twi, Princesses: Looking forward to it.
Attacks: 3 creatures from another world arrive injured in town only to be attacked hours later, unprovoked, by monsters that rarely ever leave their territories, never work in tandem, are hopped up on magic steroids, are way more aggressive than normal, and are entirely focused on taking out the visitors.
Another visitor resembling 2 of the previous ones arrives in town injured.
And they don't think at all that the bizarre attack that could only relate to the first visitors might recur with the new one? They even have him stay at Shy's place even though AJ and Shy's are the 2 homes closest to the Everfree?
Sorry but that is one big idiot ball being bounced around Ponyville.
2464756
POV: At the same time, this isn't direct Stream of Consciousness due to the fact that it is written after the fact. The characters are writing what they experienced after having gone back and reviewed it for special meaning or foreshadowing. And believe me, there's not much in the way of useless memories in this story. Considering it is their own deep personal reflections, I believe that every bit of memory helps characterize the two foreigners quite well. Give Kuja two more chapters and you'll start to notice something a bit...different.
Magic: I never once gave the impression that the ponies don't know what mages are. But consider magic in Equestria. Telekinesis, teleportation, morphing things into different shapes. I've never seen a pony stop time with their horn or smother a forest monster in fire out of thin air. It's not natural, so even if they thought he could use magic, they'd still be shocked by what magic he used.
Townsfolk: Perhaps it is stretching it that they wouldn't immediately assume he is the same type of creature. Then again, the Apple Family are the only ones to have direct contact with Black Mages. So, if you aren't part of the Apple Family, then you wouldn't really know much about 33 or 111 to assume that Vivi is the same type of thing. The others saw Black Mages, that doesn't mean they met Black Mages.
Attacks: The first half of your argument is pretty valid. It does seem weird that they wouldn't connect the dots. (Spoiler for Kuja's next chapter!)Of course, it HAD been two weeks between the time Kuja was attacked and the time Vivi showed up. Maybe they simply thought that, after Kuja being there two weeks without another attack, that the threat was gone. It could have been a one-time deal.
As for the part about Fluttershy's house being Vivi's place of residence... All in due time.
2465728
Thanks for the replies.
I will continue tracking this story as it's currently on the edge of being faved.
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