Regression

by chief maximus

The Blades

---

Argos

---

Outside the inn, the morning stillness almost made the empty town seem normal. If not for the derelict vendor stands and carts, one would think it was just a lazy Saturday. Argos had finished hitching the dumboxen to the cart after inspecting the injured animal's wounds. They had scabbed during the night and showed no signs of infection.

Argos and Eros climbed back onto the cart they had spent so many hours in over the past three days and began down the empty street. The same deserted buildings greeted them as they rode down what should have been the busiest thoroughfare in town. Bakeries, clothing stores, banks, and all manner of storefronts had been vandalized in some way. An early morning breeze blew through the open portcullis as they approached it. Unlike the one they'd entered, this one had a large poster nailed to the wall. Faded and worn from the weather, its language was still legible in places. Argos stopped the wagon.

At the top of the poster, the royal seal of the sun, moon, and starburst superimposed over one another heralded the authority of its warnings. Below the seal, large, block red letter trumpeted a cryptic warning.

Do not see the blades!
Do not smell the blades!
Do not eat the blades!

Seek Canterlot. Your princesses will protect you

Argos supposed the poster had more to say at one time, but the bottom half had been torn away.

"What do you think they needed protecting from?" Eros asked.

His father shrugged. "I don't know. Let's pray we don't run into it on our way there." He snapped the reigns, urging his oxen onward as they put the ghost city to their backs and headed down the country lane to Ponyville. The ride was uneventful. Inside the borders of Equestria, the only dangerous animals resided in the forests. It would be another day of traveling to get there, and after that, they could easily make Canterlot by noon the next day. Argos felt all his hopes rise as the sun moved slowly across the sky. He'd never wanted to believe a pony legend more than at that moment.

The oxen seemed to keep pace despite the prairie lion attack the day before. Eros sat in his usual slouch on the bench next to his father, Titan secured around his waist by a heavy, woven belt. A talon supported his chin as he propped himself up on the armrest. Argos looked out over some of the fields between the towns. It was mid-summer, and the ripe grain waved gently in the breeze, waiting for a harvest that hadn't come. A few farmhouses dotted the countryside, but none showed any signs of life. In the distance, he'd thought he'd seen a few ponies standing in a meadow, but to stop the cart and trek all the way out to them would cost them time. If whatever had happened in Prairieville was just an isolated incident, he would sure like to know what caused it.

Curiously, the ponies in the meadow seemed to not be doing much of anything. Just standing around each other, craning their heads to the ground and raising them again. He turned back to the road ahead. It was only an hour at the most until they reached the outer edges of Ponyville. Argos smiled as he remembered the farm where that nice family lived that grew those tasty apples. He remembered the laughter of the filly with the red bow as she played with her friends in a vacant field next to the farmhouse and how willing the mare that sold the apples had been to take a few gems in exchange for a bushel of them. He recalled the strong, silent, red stallion whose name he never learned and the old mare who spent most of her time in her rocker on the porch.

They were honest, hardworking folks like him. Argos' smile morphed into a grimace as he thought of what could have befallen them if whatever happened in the last town happened there.

"Something the matter, Dad?"

"Oh—nothing. Just ready to see some civilization and put that craziness behind us."

Eros nodded. "Me too. That guard shack back there at the border gave me the creeps."

His father exhaled through his nose and nodded. You aren't the only one, he thought.

The cart rattled along the road as the familiar farms on the outskirts of Ponyville came into view over the horizon. The fields and orchards sat full of vegetables and fruits, some well past their harvest time. Argos' chest tightened as they continued. Usually there would be one or two ponies on the road for whatever reason by the time he made it to Ponyville.

This time, it was just as barren as Prairieville had been. The sun was already descending beneath the hills, keeping the small hope in Argos' heart alive. Hope that an entire nation hadn't been wiped out in a little over a month's time. The signs continued to point to tragedy the further towards Ponyville they ventured.

Eros was jarred from his light sleep as the cart came to an abrupt halt. He sat up and took in the farmhouse they'd stopped beside. "What're we doing here?" he yawned.

Argos dismounted from the cart after handing his son the reigns. "I'll be right back. Stay here with the cart."

Thankfully for Eros, there were no creepy shacks for him to stare at this time. In fact, where they were now seemed leaps and bounds different than the ghost city they'd first encountered. The farmhouse seemed inviting, with its rocking chairs on the porch and clubhouse in the tree a ways away from the barn. Eros recalled visiting a friend's house and playing in one after his pal moved from the Iron Mountains to the Mixed Cities. He'd wished he could have had one, but there were few trees where he was from. He smiled to himself before glancing down at Titan, gleaming in the setting sun.

Eros' face hardened. He was almost an adult! His father had trusted him with a sword, and adults no longer thought of silly things like playhouses in trees. In fact, in two years, he would be considered an adult in griffon society. He looked back toward his father standing on the porch of the farmhouse as he knocked on the doorsill.

Argos prayed to see a mare in a stetson, a stallion in a yoke, even the old mare he suspected of disliking him. Someone, anyone to let him know whatever happened to the previous city was just an isolated event. After his knocks, he waited. His heart sank as the house remained silent. He opened the screen door and knocked loudly, on the door itself this time. He didn't know why. He knew if no one heard him the first time, a second time wouldn't make someone appear.

He noticed the door was open slightly, as if someone had left but not seen it shut all the way. Argos had decided against Bessie, but for a split second as he rested his talon on the door, he had wished he had it. The door creaked on its hinges as he pushed it open. Peering inside, the flicker of hope he'd been harboring evaporated. The home didn't appear ransacked, but there were plenty of things missing, if the dusty outlines of pictures on the walls were any indication.

"Hello?" he called into the house, though it sounded more like a defeated sigh than he intended. He took a step inside, leaving the door open behind him. The screen door closed with a slam, startling him. He walked farther in, coming into the kitchen. Fruit and vegetables, long since spoiled, sat on the counter. The flies and smell were particularly bad in here. He backed away, thankful not to find any horrific surprises like in the guard shack.

Making his way back to the front door, he caught sight of the stairs. The second level of the house was dark, and he feared what might be waiting for him in the bedrooms of the former occupants. He sighed, making a mental note to toast the family that owned this farm with his next drink. After stepping out of the house, he looked toward Eros. He motioned for him to join him.

Eros hopped off the cart and walked briskly towards his father, Titan swinging from his belt as he went.

"I saw a few trees with apples still on them. We can pick some for dinner tonight."

Eros smiled widely, the thought of food besides jerky and hard cheese exciting him to no end. They hovered over to a tree filled with ripe apples. They plucked them from the branches, carefully to stacking the fruits in their arms until they could hold no more. As Eros was picking, a thought occurred to him.

"Dad, are we stealing?"

Argos exhaled loudly. "No, son."

"So the ponies in there said we could have these?" he asked.

"No, there were no ponies," he answered solemnly. His voice sounded as though he had lost a friend. A pregnant pause came between father and son.

"Did you know them?"

Argos stopped picking apples and landed. Eros followed him. "I did."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's not your fault, Eros." He smiled at him. "Let's just hope there are ponies in Canterlot."

"And that they still want to buy gems," Eros added somberly. How could anyone want shiny rocks at a time like this?

Argos scratched his head with his free talon. "That's right."

They loaded the apples into their cart and fluttered back toward the orchard. Before picking another apple, an angry snort drew their attention. Emerging from the barn was a large, copper colored stallion wearing a workhorse's yoke. Argos recognized him immediately, but the stallion only saw trespassers.

Argos heard his son draw his sword, though the light reflecting off the blade shimmered as his son's unsteady talons gripped the hilt. He motioned for his son to stand down. He took a step toward the stallion, who pawed the ground threateningly.

"We aren't here to hurt you," Argos said calmly. He received only a snort in response. Behind the angry stallion, four mares wandered timidly out of the barn. "We aren't here to hurt your mares," he assured him, though his words seemed to bounce off the overprotective pony.

The other mares were drably colored, most of them being earth ponies, while one was a pegasus with streaks of color still in her mane. Her wings seemed much smaller than usual, and were almost devoid of feathers. Argos took a step back, spreading his wings. He and his son took to the air as the stallion watched them go. From the sky, they watched the alpha male of the herd shepherd his mares back into the barn.

They landed back atop the cart, sitting in silence for a time. Eros looked toward his father, whose feathers had seemed to lose a bit of color from the encounter. He could guess why.

"Did you know him?" he asked quietly.

His tone sounded like sorrow itself as he replied.

"Yes."

---

Spike

---

A slender dragon with green and purple scales and a messenger bag slung across his shoulders stepped softly down an abandoned street. The city in which he walked was dead. Some buildings had been burned to the ground, others simply vandalized beyond recognition. It had amazed Spike how quickly the society he'd been raised in, the only one he knew and loved, had collapsed in on itself.

As he made his way into the heart of what used to be Canterlot, he stuck close to the sides of the buildings and near the alleyways. The cities were flooded with wild animals. It wasn't as though he couldn't defend himself, but one timberwolf generally alerted his friends, and if he had to make a dash back to the palace, he'd rather not bring company. On top of that, he wasn't sent out here to fight beasts. He was sent out to gather food.

Spike had matured quite quickly since all of this began. He worked for the few remaining ponies still holed up inside the grounds of Canterlot castle. He was their lifeline, their best hope for survival. They were the last ones. The few remaining ponies of a once dominant nation. Once they farmed fields, shaped the weather, and controlled the very ground itself with their magic. Now, they hardly ever went beyond the high walls of the inner keep. He hurt for them. Especially for the foals and the free spirits. What kind of life was being trapped in such a small area for the foreseeable future?

With the exception of the possible hazardous wildlife, Spike cherished these walks. He was the only one who could leave, and he was thankful. He sometimes brought back toys for the younger ponies and a few gems if he was lucky enough to run across them. And if they were lucky enough to survive the trip back to the palace.

He arrived at a former farmer's market in the old section of Canterlot. Most of the food was spoiled, with the exception of the dry goods sealed in barrels. That's what he was after. Though many in the castle complained about eating the same thing every day, there wasn't much he could do about it. When fortune was truly smiling on him, he'd find a fruit tree or some miraculously preserved celery or carrots.

As he wandered through the overturned carts and spoiled food, he noticed a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around but saw nothing out of the ordinary in the shattered glass of a former storefront. He eyed the scene suspiciously before turning back to his duties. Inside an old bakery, he knew there were still many barrels of stored grains and wheat. Not the most flavorful dinner, but it kept the ponies alive, and that's all that mattered. He reached into his bag and pulled out a scroll and quill. He scribbled a quick note onto it and blew it away in a wisp of green fire.

He began loading fistfuls of food into his bag, the dust from the grains irritating his sinuses. He closed his eyes, quickly trying to stifle his sneeze. In a burst of fire, the grain he'd been collecting went up. In a panic, he tossed the burning barrel out of the broken shop window and into the street. Thankfully, there were still about twenty barrels unharmed. Just as he was about to break into a new one, a growling from outside drew his attention.

Near the burning barrel, a large timberwolf waited, snarling at him. Spike's expression hardened. He tightened up his bag around his shoulders and clenched his claws into fists. In a flash, the timberwolf charged. Spike shut his eyes and concentrated. He could hear Twilight's words in his ears as if she were beside him. Draw your power from inside. Keep the outcome of your spell in the forefront of your mind, and you'll never be without magic. His eyes shot open, the green reptilian pupils replaced by a uniform sapphire glow. The wolf was close now, and no doubt his friends would be nearby. The beast leapt into the window, intending to pounce on Spike and score an easy meal.

Spike had different plans. He raised his claws in front of him, an aura matching his eyes coming around his claws and the wolf itself. The creature hung in the air, snapping and growling within inches of his nose. With a mighty thrust, Spike shoved the aggressor backwards, sending him out of the window, across the street, and into the next building where it scattered into twigs and sticks.

"Aw, yeah!" He smiled, pumping a fist in victory as his eyes returned to their normal color. Unfortunately, his celebration was short-lived. Howling of other wolves echoed throughout the city as he gathered up a few more clawfuls of food and stuffed it inside his bag. Spike dashed out of the bakery and down the street, hoping to leave before the wounded timberwolf reassembled.

---

Eros

---

Eros decided not to tell his father about his dream. After all, grown griffons don't let nightmares scare them! Syrell the monster slayer probably never had a nightmare in his life! Besides, as long as he had Titan and his father, nothing could hurt him.

When Eros and his father made it into Ponyville, they found it deserted as well. The only inn the town had was nothing but charred embers, and the other buildings were missing doors and windows. The only building that appeared undamaged was rather peculiar. It seemed to be a house built inside a tree. Upon further inspection, they discovered it used to be a library. The gaps in the shelves and books scattered on the floor suggested that this place had been looted. After stabling the oxen, they headed into the tree and settled in. The sun was still up, but it wouldn't be for long. Argos was dead tired, and after a quick dinner of apples and jerky, he was ready for bed.

Eros, however, wasn't quite ready to bed down for the night. His nightmare from the night before replayed in his mind when he closed his eyes. That, combined with the little bit of daylight still outside, kept him awake. Eros stood from his bedroll and grabbed Titan. The clank of steel on the hardwood floors woke his father.

"Where ya off to?" he yawned, not bothering to open his eyes completely.

"Uhm... just to check out the rest of this place," Eros told him. He wasn't even sure he'd heard him, as drowsy as he seemed. Truthfully, Eros was going to check out the rest of the library. But he was also going to explore the town. He figured there was nothing to hurt him out there, especially if he had Titan with him. He had an almost foolish amount of trust in a sword he'd never used.

He climbed the stairs to the upper floor of the library to find a small bookshelf overturned across a single bed. On the bedroom wall, a note was pinned that seemed out of place with the rest of the dusty old books and scrolls scattered on the floor. It seemed... newer. As though someone had come back to this place and pinned it here. He stepped closer, squinting at the scroll in the dim light.

If you can read this, go to Canterlot Castle.

Maybe there were ponies left after all. Not like that one they'd encountered at the farm. Something was certainly wrong with him, but Eros couldn't place what. He had met ponies before coming here, but they all seemed so... civilized and polite. Their manes were usually brushed and their tails combed. But that stallion and the mares behind him looked like they hadn't bathed or groomed themselves in weeks!

What would make ponies act that way? Would being here mean he and his Dad would start forgetting to preen or start eating worms and hunting rabbits and eating them as soon as they were in their talons? Eros retched at the thought of eating raw animal meat. To his left, the fading daylight cast a long shadow from a balcony window. He tried the knob and slowly opened the door, mindful of any squeaks the hinges might make.

Thankfully, it was silent as he stepped out onto the balcony, breathing deep the still twilight air. With a flutter of his wings, he was on the ground. He kept a talon near Titan as he walked, looking over the ruins of a town his father had once described as 'picturesque'. He'd always thought that was a pretty fancy word for such a small town, but Eros imagined it was probably a lot more picturesque when it still had ponies living in it. As good as the apples had been, he still craved a bit more variety in his meals. On top of that, he never ate his fill during mealtime. His father said he could eat like a tornado's winds blow. His mother was always quick to defend him as a 'growing griffon.'

Eros smiled. Perhaps when he was older, he would tell his mother about the adventure he and his father had in the equine lands. He began down the main street, his head moving from side to side as he scanned the buildings for any sign of unspoiled food. He knew ponies didn't eat meat, but there was still the off chance a crate of it imported from the griffon empire was stored safely somewhere.

As he wandered, he came upon the town square. Streamers hung limply from streetlamps, their colors only a dull hue of what Eros imagined they'd once looked like. There were a few overturned tables in the square, as well as vendor carts and stands sitting untouched from their previous tenants, just like in the cities before.

Even though this town was just as empty as Prairieville, something just felt more inviting about this place. Prarieville had been a rough-and-tumble frontier city, if his father was to be believed. This place seemed like any small town. He recalled his Dad mentioning how friendly the ponies were in general, and how any griffon prejudiced against them was either ignorant or hadn't actually ever met one before. To think that such a kind race of creatures could just disappear from their cities and towns was a bit saddening, made scarier by the fact that they'd been fine only a month before.

A sound nearly startled Eros out of his feathers. He whipped around and clumsily grabbed for his sword. In the act of drawing it, he nearly flung it out of his talons. He regained his grip and held the blade in front of him. It trembled as Eros tried to steady himself. He'd trained with a wooden sword for a while after school, but it was really nothing more than a hobby to make his father proud. Though a blunderbuss might have been simpler to operate, there was a long history of honor in griffon culture that came with mastery of a sword.

Eros was far from mastery.

He pointed the blade at the source of the noise, a darkened doorway inside an old pottery shop. "C-come out!" he tried to yell in his most terrifying voice, though it simply sounded terrified. "Show yourself!" he said again, a little bit steadier, but still with the squeak of a child.

Why did I come out here? This was so stupid to sneak out without Dad! What if it's a prairie lion, or a timberwolf, or worse? How do I fight a cockatrice with a sword? It can turn me into stone! Thoughts of doubt raced through his mind as he waited for whatever snarling beast hid in the shadows to reveal himself.

Out of the doorway stepped a young mare. She was the brightest shade of buttery-yellow Eros had seen thus far. Her red mane was a bit dirty, but not nearly as bad as the ponies he and his father had encountered on the farm. She wore a ratty old bow in her mane as well, though the splotches of dirt and fading color suggested it had seen better days. He lowered his sword, letting the tip drag in the dirt as he caught his breath. His adrenaline was still pumping as he tucked Titan away in his belt.

The mare looked at him, her head titled to one side, bow and mane flopping lazily. "You can talk?" she asked.

Eros looked as though her words had punched him in the gut. "Y-you can talk?" he repeated dumbly. The silence of the town surrounded them as they gawked at each other. "I'm Eros," he said softly.

The filly took a few steps toward him from out of the darkened shop. She had a saddlebag strapped around her. The clasp was half of a giant green apple that sagged a bit around her thin frame. "I'm Apple Bloom."

---

Apple Bloom

---

The library door burst open, startling Argos from his sleep. He grabbed for Bessie before recognizing the outline of his son in the moonlight standing in the doorway. Behind him was a shape very unfamiliar. He squinted at him before hearing the sound of hooves on hardwood.

"Eros? Where have you been?" he demanded.

"I was checking out the town when I found her," he replied as his father lit a small candle he'd found in the library. He held it up, shining the dim light upon a yellow earth pony standing behind his son.

"I'm Apple Bloom," she said hoarsely. Argos' eyes widened. She could speak!

With a dried stalk of hay, Argos transferred the flame from the candle to a much brighter oil lamp they'd brought with them from the inn. "I'm Argos."

Apple Bloom looked toward the food stashed just behind Argos, licking her dry lips at the sight of their canteens. "I don't mean ta be rude, but do y'all have any water?"

---

Spike

---

Spike leaned against the battlements of the inner keep. He could see most of the city from up here, and he used that to his advantage when planning where he would go to search for food in the ruins of Canterlot. He'd heard from survivors that in some places, the towns and cities were intact, just empty. He'd liked to believe that, but the chaos in Canterlot when all of this started woke him from the dream that all ponies were rational, well-tempered beings. Riots, looting, the fall of law and order... he'd seen it all from behind the castle walls and it sickened him.

He was the only one to ever come up on the ramparts like this. The others were afraid to. Afraid that whatever had claimed many of their friends and family, would get them next. Only fillies and colts dared tread here whether that be due to hubris or ignorance.

He remembered the old mantra, the one strategy that seemed to work in most cases.

Do not see the blades! Do not smell the blades! Do not eat the blades!

He huffed at the thought. If that had worked, there would still be an Equestria.

"Hey, Spike." He turned to look down beside him. He'd grown quite tall since Twilight's coronation. Almost as tall as the princesses. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo trotted up the stairs to the wall, their heads nearly allowing them to see over the edge, something that was absolutely not allowed.

"Hey, girls," he replied with a smile. "What are you guys up to?"

"Can't sleep," Scootaloo replied.

Spike nodded. "Me neither." Strange, considering he was almost a professional sleeper when all of this began.

"Anything new out there tonight?" Sweetie Belle asked.

"Nothin' much. Just the same old nighttime."

A pause came between them before Scootaloo asked a question that had been asked in one form or another countless times.

"Do you think we'll ever get out of here without becoming grazers?"

Spike had his reply ready as soon as he'd heard the question. "Yeah, she's working hard on a cure. She just doesn't know how long it's going to take."

It was the same answer they'd always received, but it offered them some small comfort nonetheless.

"You know what would be awesome, Spike?"

"Hm?"

"If you found some cupcakes, somehow," Sweetie replied, salivating at the mere thought of something besides dried hay, grain, and the occasional pickled vegetable.

"Oh yeah, I would kill for some of my Mom's roasted squash!" Scootaloo added, her wings fluttering in excitement.

Spike smiled. "Yeah, I could definitely use a few gems." He yawned into his hand, looking down at the crusaders. "Alright, now I'm getting sleepy. I'm headed to bed." He got off the wall and started back down, the fillies ahead of him. He toook one last look in the direction of Ponyville when he saw something unusual. He stopped, turning back around and squinting at what he thought had to be a mirage or light trick of some kind. He stared at it for a few seconds, before moving along the wall, waiting for it to disappear, as a reflection of moonlight would.

Instead, the glow stayed, and it was coming from Ponyville! Suddenly, the light went out, confirming Spike's suspicions.

"I don't believe it..." he whispered to himself. "Someone's still in Ponyville!"

Comments

[the_sane_maniac]

well that answers the question of what the catalyst was. looks like we have another "happening" on our hands

only this one is directed against a group that can't really deal with the casualties and survive

[The Ohvist]

Alright then, while this story is good and all, I still think that the overall tone of the previous chapter was good enough to go off of. In this chapter, we see the defined cause of the devolution: grass consumption. When I analyzed the previous chapter's blood-scrawled message "Better dead than grass-fed", I just assumed that it was a metaphor to describe one of the points behind why the guards inside decided to take their lives, to prevent themselves from succumbing to the devolution and as a result eating grass instead of regular food like they would do normally. I felt that the whole reason would have been better if it was NOT known what caused it to happen; like the whole zombie apocalypse in the Highschool of The Dead series, where the outbreak is never truly explained, only that it had already devastated the world in just a manner of hours prior to when it had arrived at the school and became known by everyone there. Have the cause of the Grazers (which in and of itself is a unique name for Them in your story, mind-you) be this Great Unknown that nobody truly can explain.

Than there is the issue with other Survivors being revealed in this story, I think that it would have been handled better if it stuck with Argos and Eros, instead of transitioning to Canterlot with Spike, Princess Twilight, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo at the same time. It would have served as a focal point to further develop more about Eros and Argos' fears upon arriving in an abandoned Ponyville and taking shelter for the night.

Still, it's good enough for now, we'll see what the next chapter brings.

[BrackMadar]

so a "Regression" to a more primitive stage, one which presumably begins with the compulsion to consume grass...
I freaking love the premise

[kooarbiter]

mt dog eats grass all the time, maybe she used to be a sentient magical creature at some point