Chapter 21: Caged Birds
Chapter 21: Caged Birds
The loud and bombastic extroversion King Vince showed in the ring didn't seem to end backstage, either. Perhaps he was energized by the excitement that two foreigners brought to his people. His assistants were certainly eager to keep me upright in their arms. Whatever the reason for his mood, his courteousness was a welcome relief.
"We're getting your friends settled in the VIP room," the king said, adjusting his tie. "We'll talk business there."
"I appreciate the escort, Vince," I said with a weak smile. "A bit firm for my liking, but I can appreciate a woman with a blessed upper body."
"I expect nothing less from my divas," Vince replied, smirking back at me. "I like a woman who can kick my ass."
Spike scratched his head. "That's...nice."
"Well, I suppose strength of body is just as important as strength of heart," I added, now beading with sweat as I trembled subtly between the two escorts.
One of the two eyed me with a giggle, squeezing me ever so slightly.
"Don't sweat it, little man," she whispered, wiggling my arm in her embrace. "I've still got my woman's touch.'
Shockingly, hearing such assurance from a woman whose biceps were as thick as grapefruits didn't prevent me from squirming with mild embarrassment.
Fortunately, we reached a star-marked door a few moments later. As it opened, my friends sighed at the sight of us. Juno rushed up to me, her camera-like eyes scanning my body with great rapidity as she searched me for injuries. After a quick pat-down, she nodded, turning to the group inside.
“It would appear Master Lance has not sustained any further injuries,” she declared, a tinge of pride in her tone.
“Well that’s just peachy,” Roughshod muttered. “I admire your bravery, kid. Personally, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near that ring if I’d have gone through half the crazy stuff you’ve put yourself through.”
“At the very least, he’s conscious,” Napalm noted. “It’s actually kind of a miracle, when you think about it.”
“Well, of course it is!” Roughshod snapped back, pointing his cane at Spike. “This madman of dragon climbs to the top of a steel cage and let gravity drive a stake clear into that steer’s chest! I’m surprised both of them walked away without a scratch on ‘em, much less Lance.”
I chuckled weakly. “As much as I’d love to watch you two carry on, I’m fading fast as it is. If you’ll make room, I’d like to finish up our business here and get back on the trail.”
The two divas brought me inside, exchanging teasing looks with the three mares in our midst as they laid me on the sofa whilst Vince sprawled a map across the table.
“We’ve known about this temple for a good while,” he began, pointing to an outcropping in the middle of a forest. “Unfortunately, we can’t tell you an awful lot about it; survey teams have tried to get a more intimate look of the place, but the inside was too cramped for any of my men to get too deep.”
“So what do you know as of now?” Nia asked as she worked her hooves on the individual joints in my fingers.
“Well, from how far they could get in, the survey team reckons it might have been some kind of animal sanctuary,” Vince continued, circling around the surrounding forest. “Either that, or it was overrun some time ago and its original purpose is unknown.”
“Great,” scoffed Napalm, “Another mysterious dungeon because the scouts were too big to fit in the door.”
“It can’t be helped,” Roughshod replied with a shrug. “We should at least be grateful they were able to get any information at all.”
I gave the map a glance, trying my best to commit the coordinates to memory whilest Juno’s eyes flashed like the bulb of a camera.
“If that’s all you have for us, Mister McBullion, I think we’re done here,” I said, wincing as I picked myself up again. “For what it’s worth, I enjoyed your company.”
“Likewise,” Vince replied with a broad grin. “You’re welcome back anytime. Maybe when you’re healed up, I can get you into a proper match.”
“Just so long as you pit me against someone near my weight class,” I chuckled.
The room was joined in laughter. In spite my near-paralysis, I couldn’t help but laugh myself, if only as a temporary panacea for my physical problems. While I had some longing in the back of my mind to have contributed more to this leg of our adventure, seeing all my companions—Spike especially—so happy and relieved gave me assurance that I had done more than enough this time around.
***
Sleep was scarce that night. The inability to move into a comfortable position in my bed was bad enough, but the aftermath of the melee I had been spectator to kept my heart at a hare’s pace. The din of a still feverish public still echoed in my mind, and as I lay on my back, eyes glued open from dryness, I was left with only my thoughts to occupy me. In an attempt to distract myself, I scanned my lodgings.
The floor was wall-to-wall soft, almost plush red carpeting, with gold and marble in every wall, windowsill, and curtain rod in sight. None of my party had to share a bed; even dear old Spike had his own king-size four-poster to sleep on. Judging by the way the mattress cradled his body, he must have been sleeping like a hatchling. Napalm and Roughshod were sprawled out, their blankets in shambles as both let out discordant snores that were mercifully low enough to ignore. Kenta was curled up at the foot of my bed, with Juno in the corner nearest to me. Then there was Nia, as quiet and still as a mouse, nearly swallowed whole by her blankets.
Everyone else was resting, and yet there I laid, rigid like a plank, eyes fixated on the peculiar shine in the sky that flitted through the curtains. If I squinted, I swore that I could see a flicker of blue, not unlike what I had seen aboard the airship. Could the bird have been following me this whole time? Was it an omen, or merely a figment of my own exhausted mind? Whatever it was, it fascinated me to no end to watch that flicker dance across the curtain. To my frustration, however, such light had no hypnotic effect on me, and after a while, I was forced to watch it fade away, leaving me alone again.
Then, as if to taunt me, a familiar irritant reared his ugly head.
“My, you seem to have quite the knack for inducing spectacle wherever you seem to tread, hm?”
Luna’s love, why do you forsake me so?
“Hello, Discord,” I grumbled through my teeth, desperately keeping my voice low. “To what do I owe your inopportune arrival?”
“Well now,” scoffed the draconequus with a shade of mock offense, “That’s certainly no way to greet a friend, is it?”
“Discord, the last time we met, you made a nude effigy of me in marble and plonked it right in the center of the royal gardens,” I snapped back. “Were I not effectively paralyzed from the neck-down, I would find wherever your spine is in that long body of yours and break it over my knee.”
“My, someone has a dark imagination to them,” Discord said, eyebrow raised slightly. “I admit, that would have been fun to watch had you done that in the ring.”
I jerked my head up. “You saw that?”
Discord smirked, producing a bag of popcorn kernels. “That I did, my boy. Quite a fun spectacle, too. Some really should have told Spike what kayfabe was, though.”
“Is there a particular reason as to why you’re here?” I groused, trying to turn my head away. “Or have you come simply to humiliate me as you did last time?”
“Well, it’s just that,” he replied, lounging upon thin air as though a chair were right there, “You see, in light of recent events on the homefront, I’ve started to reflect upon my past actions. With that, I’ve come to realize how—cripes, what’s the word I’m looking for—well, routine I’ve been getting. The chaos I’ve cherished for so long has effectively become mundane, even dull. Trying to keep up that charade of spontaneity just ends up turning it into something I feel obligated to do.”
“What a tragic irony,” I murmured, my eyes briefly spinning in their sockets. “The exalt of entropy becoming unremarkably uniform unbeknownst to himself.”
Discord furrowed his brow, “Look, I know you’re not in the best shape, but at least lend me your ears while they still work.”
I tried to gesture my acquiescence, but was met with only frustration merely trying to get my shoulders to shrug.
“My point is, I’m starting to realize just how much life in Equestria is changing me,” he continued, popping kernels into his mouth and crunching them like sunflower seeds. “If this was Her Royal Highness’s plan to make a better man of me, I’d be lying if I said if it didn’t take in some regard.”
“So why is it that you came to me of all folk to vent your woes?”
Discord crossed his legs. “Well, as odd as it may sound, I find in you a kindred spirit of sorts.”
“You must be joking,” I replied as my cheek hit the pillow. “How are we in any way alike?”
“It’s simple, really,” the draconequus assured. “Our equine benefactors see in us a potential to realize goodness, in spite of whatever maladies weigh on us. No matter what we’ve done, she would rather see dastards live and have a chance to change than to fall at her hooves. Myself, Tirek, her own sister, and others. To her, only the truly monstrous and unrepentant are deserving of the worst of her power.
“To put it simply, I’d like to help you, much the same way your dear caretakers have helped me.”
And just like that, all thought seized up in my mind. I was certain that I had lost it then and there with how everything froze around me. A brief falling sensation wracked my body as my jaw hanged agape in unremitting awe. This appeared to both amuse and concern Discord, who began waving his lion paw in my face repeatedly.
“Blast, I think I sent him into cardiac arrest,” he snapped as he cracked his knuckles and pursed his lips. “Time to resuscitate.”
For a brief instant, my legs jolted back to life, shoving my body up against the headboard.
“I assure you, I’m fine!” I blurted painfully. “I just needed to let my brain overcome the massive weight that statement just put on it.”
“Well, at the very least you’re honest,” Discord huffed as he crossed his arms. “So, anything I can do for you now that the cards are on the table?”
I wriggled a little further up the bed. “Well, if you’re any good at diction, I’d appreciate your help in penning a letter back home.”
With a snap of his talon, the draconequus produced a pen and parchment. “Shall I write it in cursive or print?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Just listen close.”
Discord’s eyes spun like a cartwheel. “Is this is a letter home or your last will and testament?”
***
Dearest Mother and Aunt,
As I lay paralyzed from the neck-down in a terribly cozy bed in the land of the Minotaurs, it has occurred to me that I haven’t written to either of you in quite some time. You all must be worried sick! Do forgive me; much as I’d love to regale you with my progress, I doubt a full parchment would be able to fully capture everything. What’s important is Griffonstone and Rinth will be visiting for this year’s summit, and it’s been a very educational experience overall. In Griffonstone, I learned that good humor and a smile do wonders in sensitive situations. As for Rinth, I learned that when a friend needs your support, one of the best things you can do is be there for them. Even if it’s only to cheer them on, simply being at their side can be one of the greatest blessings you can give them.
Unfortunately, there were also some not-so-fortunate findings. In exploring these lands, I have found temples that appear to be connected to my people’s civilization. At first, it appeared that we were friends with ponykind, but as I have recently come to find, something happened. Something awful that forced them to flee. Given what I heard in my last excursion, all signs point to a battle. One strikingly similar to what became of Luna all those years ago. I don’t yet know the full extent of what happened, but it does not bode well for my current condition. Though I am growing closer to finding the roots of my heritage, I fear that the maleficent spirit is not yet gone from me, and in my last attempt to rid myself of him, it has left me uncomfortably numb.
But, I won’t let this fear take me yet. It’s happened to Luna, and it has no doubt happened to many others. If I survive to make it home, I have utmost faith in both of you that I might be freed from the same fate that befell my kin. I’ve but one last nation to meet, and two more temples to delve into. I’ve seen visions of benefactors of my own kin and yours, and in the past few days, a thunderbird has been following my trail. I can only hope that it may be a good omen.
I can see the light at the end of this tunnel, mother. I need only the strength to reach it, and with my friends at my side, I am certain I can make it. I know that you believe in me. I see it every time I look at the sky. If you can see me in turn, I implore you:
Don’t let that light fade.
I’m sorry if this letter is bittersweet. I really am happier than this. I just hope that this journey ends happily.
I wish the both of you the best of luck in your research. Assuming Luna hasn’t kept you privy to what I’ve been doing, I can only hope my discoveries embolden your efforts.
Yours in Love,
Lance
***
Discord looked up from the paper, slightly aghast. “Do you...need a moment, kid?”
I buried my face in the pillow, desperately vying to obfuscate the fading facade of composure I’d taken such great pains to construct. My throat was growing narrow, and I could feel my eyes drowning in pitiful wetness. Every attempt I made at vocalizing resulted in shameful whimpers audible to only myself. Even with my back turned, I could tell Discord was drawing closer to me by the way the air shifted around.
“Oh dear,” the draconequus mumbled, his paw at his muzzle. “Now I just feel awful.”
I craned my neck to look at him. His visage was half-blurred by the moisture building up in my eyes as I shook my head. “It isn’t your fault. Not this time.”
Discord produced a rope of handkerchiefs from a place I’d best not think too deeply about. “Come now, Lance; just what’s eating at you? I swear, I’ll keep it in strictest confidence.”
I laid my head back down. Silence dominated the room as I let my composure come undone before the redeemed aberration at my bedside. Faintest murmurs of half-formed sentences and unremitting tears filled the pillow, the sounds muffled by the padding in spite of my loudest moans. For a while, I ended up just going dead silent for fear that any further attempt at communication would only exacerbate my anxiety. Eventually, there was simply nothing left to let out. My eyes were arid once more, my throat barren, and my shame utterly annihilated.
I rose my head up, my eyes boring into Discord’s, trying to find any hint of deception or ill intent in him. Yet his eyes merely reflected my own; red, glassy, and abyssal. Seeing him stare back at me, his brows lifted in a mix of concern and confusion, gave a queer sort of comfort. After a prolonged period of deafening quietness, I strained to turn onto my back to face him proper.
“No use hiding it now, huh,” I lamented hoarsely. “You swear to keep this between us?
Discord (perhaps jokingly) performed a scout’s salute. “On my honor.”
I cleared my throat a few times as I tried to prop myself up. Yet again, I was the patient of an armchair psychologist.
“I’ll give you the short version,” I started, struggling to keep my eyes open. “I would tell you the whole story, but this has already kept me awake for far longer than it needed to. For a while now, I’ve been dealing with some...less than welcome entities in my mind. One of them regards itself a paradox, and the other a dark benefactor. The latter of the two, as I mentioned in the letter, may not be gone. He certainly wasn’t when I was last asleep.
“He’s been more and more forward lately, offering his help, but part of me knows he’s waiting for even that tiniest moment of weakness before assuming total control of my being. He’s saved my life at least twice over, but I’ll bet bits to biscuits that it was because I’m more useful to him living than dead.”
“So I’ve heard,” Discord hummed, weaving his hands together. “But pray tell, what caused that little meltdown just now?”
My head drooped slightly. “My most recent discovery reminded me just how short my life may end up being.”
Discord’s brow rose curiously. “So you fear dying early, than.”
I attempted to shoot the chaos avatar a needling gaze, but with how my eyes had just been exhausted, it felt far less impactful. After about thirty seconds, I just resigned to looking up at the ceiling again.
“Can’t say I blame you, kid,” he continued, producing a pipe that seemed to produce vapor from nothing. “It’s only natural that you’d find your predicament harrowing. Everyone—pony, griffon, minotaur and otherwise—is afraid to die. Even folks like Celestia and Luna are afraid of it. Even I get chills just thinking about the idea of it; we just don’t show it because we’ve had so much more time to reflect on it than most mortals get to.”
Discord then laid a hand on my shoulder, as if he were assuming the role of a wise uncle.
“At the same time, though, that fear of death is perhaps the greatest tool any living thing has in its employ. Especially when it comes to those of your ilk. I’ve heard many a story of your kinfolk, Lance; all those ancient fairy tales of brave stallions who lived long and fought to their last breath, wishing only that their lives ended meaningfully. All those great monuments and hidden caches of lore and history, the wondrous machines and devices, all those lingering remnants of their great past. That drive to leave something behind for the generations to come is exactly the reason you’re even here today. Some fortunate son made sure that you survived long enough to see this day in the hopes you’d get to see so many others.”
He gestured to all of my friends in the room. “But the best part of living, Lance, is you don’t have to go it alone.”
I blinked, my heartbeat unusually steadied by Discord’s soliloquy. “That’s...oddly profound from someone like you.”
Discord’s smirk widened. “When you’ve been alive for eons, you have quite a lot of time to think about such things.”
I shifted my view back to window, hoping to perhaps see another glimpse of the thunderbird. While it was long gone, the moon was happy to stand in its place. I all but forgot that Discord was there for a few sparse moments, just taking in the detail of the moon. Just looking at it, knowing that somewhere, Princess Luna was likely watching over me relaxed me in a way that I may not have felt since childhood.
When I looked to Discord again, he’d put on a coat and hat and was carrying a suitcase with him. “Well, by the looks of it, my work here is done.”
“Wait, so did someone send you here?” I blurted with a start.
The draconequus shrugged. “Not really. I just happened to remember you while I was pondering things to do today. Given what I just saw, it’s safe to say I came at just the right moment.”
I tried my best to smile to Discord, but my facial muscles were so well worn that I could only manage a tiny smirk.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say it, but thank you, Discord,” I sighed. “I really needed that.”
“Think nothing of it,” he replied, before producing a glass of chocolate milk from a deft wave of his paw. “Here. To help you sleep.”
I gave the glass a cautious glance. “That’s all?”
Discord crossed his heart. “I swear, I’ve done nothing to it. Besides, exploding chocolate milk is so last season.”
With a snap of his talon, a misty blue monolith appeared before him. It glowed like a light at the end of a long tunnel, through which he stepped as though it were a door. Then, as the tip of his dragon’s tail whisked inside, the monolith descended from once it came, as quickly as it had been summoned. Just like that, Discord had left, and all I had to remember this fateful little encounter was a glass of milk.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have expected anything more.
***
Sleep was uneventful when it finally came. Perhaps it was something in the milk. Maybe Iando was hiding out now that he was becoming more well-known. Honestly, I think my brain was so densely-packed with existential madness that it was devoting all its processing power towards trying to sort it all out. Whatever the case, I didn’t dream that night, which came to be an unexpected relief.
As an additional relief, the minute I turned to look at the window, I had Juno staring back at me, her lenses zoomed far in to look closely in my eyes.
“It would appear you’ve suffered mild eye strain,” she stated, tilting my head closer with her hoof. “Was your sleep cycle not sufficient?”
I shuffled upright with a groan. “Well, between a sudden growth in popularity and an irritating paralysis that leaves me nearly unable to move my body in any helpful way, why don’t you guess?”
Juno shrunk before me. “That was sarcasm, wasn’t it.”
I tried to pat the robotic pony on the head, but the most I could do was an attempt at nuzzling her cheek with my own. “Don’t worry, Juno. I’m not as bad as I was earlier; just a little frustrated about this whole mess I’ve gotten myself into the last couple of days.”
Juno tilted her head. “I don’t understand. Are you angry at me, or are you angry at yourself?”
“It’s not really something I can really explain,” I told her, raising my hand with some strain. “Ever since that procedure, I’ve just felt stuck. My body wants me to be still and my mind wants me to quit, but my heart wants me to press on and on and on.”
Her head tilted a few clicks further. “So it is a matter of not wanting to stagnate?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” I concurred, resting my fingers on the bridge of my nose. “I just hate being stuck, I guess.”
Juno took my hand in her hooves, caressing it as carefully as she could. She nuzzled it, her cheek rubbing tenderly against my knuckles as she closed her eyes and gave a soft smile. Even as I attempted to pull away, she kept possession if it. Part of me thinks she must have accidentally recalled memories of playing with a cat.
“This will pass, master,” she assured me with a warm look. “It may pass as easily as a round peg through a square hole, but it will pass.”
And thus, the two of us stayed put for a good few minutes. She anchored me to the bed, refusing to let go until everyone else had woken up. By the time the rest of the gang had woken up, my whole forearm had become limp and numb, much to the confusion of all who saw it.
Spike rubbed his eyes. “Are...we interrupting something?”
“Nothing, Spike,” I blurted. “Juno was just giving me some bedside manner.”
“Well, when you’re ready, let’s get going,” he advised, helping me up. “I’d rather not get trampled by fangirls on the way out.”
I chuckled, stretching out. “Right. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Spike and the others helped me out of bed. Though I staggered upon initially getting on my feet, they finally started to support my own weight again. Granted, I still felt like I was walking on tacks and caltrops, but it was something.
“Well, it’s better than yesterday,” I groaned, wincing between steps. “How long will it take to prepare Melissa?”
“Shouldn’t be more than an hour, boss,” Kenta barked, raising a paw to his temple in salute. “I’ll make sure you have a wide berth.”
I nodded, wrapping an arm around Spike to brace myself. “Thank you, Kenta; I’m glad to know I’ve got someone beating them back for me.”
“Y’know, in any other situation, I’d probably eat this up,” Spike chuckled. “But, I can settle for the old ‘people’s champ’ angle for now.”
“Let’s just make sure I survive for the rematch, eh?”
As we made our way outside, the two of us shared a laugh that could be heard all through the arena. When we stepped out into the open once more, the looks that the public gave us had changed considerably. What once were skeptics and naysayers looked onto us with surprise and awe. Even as I continued to lean on Spike, I wasn’t ridiculed nearly as much as before. If anything, I helped “put him over”, as the promoter had put it. People actually came over to help us and show their support, and while mine weren’t in as great a number, I had a nice contingent of fans escorting me all the way to the docks.
When the lot of us arrived at the docks, both sides of the street had been lined with sailors and what I could only presume to be fellow wrestlers, each in wildly different states of dress. Some wore colorful masks that covered all but their horns and noses, others wore tights with gripping designs, and some wore singlets that left a scary scarcity of covering to the senses. Beyond their attire, though, they were the picture of their society in its most ideal: the spitting image of strength and machismo, be it masculine or feminine.
As we neared the boat, the biggest of the steers stood clear in my way. His eyes were dim and distant like a lighthouse at the end of a foggy lake, the air around him all but frozen into an icy vapor. His was a stature that was somehow even greater than that of Oro. This was a figure so terrifyingly large that I feared if he slammed me to the ground with any force at all, I might very well die.
You could imagine my relief and surprise when this monster of a man extended an open hand to me. With some reasonable trepidation, I returned the gesture, shaking the steer’s hand slowly.
“To whom do I owe the honor?” I asked, knees now shuddering ever so slightly.
"Astaroth," grunted the minotaur, seemingly unaware of how tightly his hand gripped mine. "I was near the front when your friend was in the ring."
My eyes screwed up to meet his, trying to keep myself from buckling from awe at this giant of a wrestler. "You were? What did you think?"
I could note a frozen timbre in Astaroth's chuckle. "The same thing that my fellows did; It was an auspicious beginning for him, and for you as well. Perhaps a bit too much too soon, but for introductions there are few better ways to get heat for a new talent."
I looked to the other wrestlers for a moment, my cheeks now reasonably inflamed as I cocked my head. "That's a good thing, right?"
Astaroth nodded. "It's a very good thing. In our world, that means you've gotten the audience's attention and care."
Spike was absolutely beaming. While I knew that he'd already become something of a local hero in the Crystal Empire, I'm certain the compliments had inflated his ego to the size of one of those inflatable tube dancers that I'd occasionally see outside the more ritzy stores back home. Given my current state, I wasn't about to spoil his fun. To think that they regarded my limp grandstanding as worthy entertainment, however, left me with a meager blossom of resolve and pride. As we made our way onto the gangplank of the ship, the other wrestlers shared handshakes with us all, patting us on the back as we passed them one by one. The way they looked upon me was like that of a newly-made friend, the gleam in their eyes hoping for my swift return as the gang all made it aboard.
Astaroth pointed one long, thick finger at me, an eerie smile stitched to his face. "I want to see you back here before long. If what I saw was you at only a fraction of your strength, then it stands to reason you must be especially strong. When you're free, you and I are going to have a heck of a dream match; anything less would be a disgrace to that arena."
I admit, the prospect of being challenged to a potentially legitimate battle against a creature at least twice my size gave me quite a bit of pause. Then again, Spike's words from yesterday rang true; until something topped that bird, I would have little fear of anything larger than me. This in mind, I answered his challenge with a raised thumb. "You have my word. When my other obligations are fulfilled, I'll be back. You can certain that I'll be even better than I was before."
The others replied with applause so loud, thunderous, and strong that it was like a thunderstorm. I could see books and various curios ever slightly shifting, jumping as the odd item suddenly smacked to the ground.
"So how many obligations have you made so far?" Napalm groaned, rolling her eyes. "Pretty sure we're up to three or four by now."
I rounded my shoulders. "Nobility obliges, it seems. To me, it just seems fair that I play by their terms."
"Well, I don't know about politics," Spike chuckled as he helped me down to a more comfortable spot," but having friends in positions of power never hurts. Rarity's practically a master of it."
I rolled my head back with a muted guffaw. "You would know about that, wouldn't you."
The swollen, tomato-red complexion left on the dragon's face was well worth the near-fatal seizing in my gut from my fit of manic laughter.
***
Once we'd finally set sail again, I finally found myself with time to properly relax for a moment. Or perhaps that was merely a spot of delirium from the change in air pressure. Honestly, I'd have welcomed either by now. Given my rapidly-declining mental stability, it would be hard to tell the difference between the two.
Kenta helmed the ship again, Spike returning once more to his day job as a humble steward. This time around, he chose to read from some of the books I'd packed for the journey. The Tome of Shadows lay on a table next to my bed, its yellowed pages inviting inspection as its ebony cover gleamed in the more prominent midday sunlight. Not now, I whispered to myself. Not when I could invite him again. I had to keep reminding myself, in spite my worries and fears, that the magic in that book wouldn't doom me. And yet, Iando had helped me that one night. He'd advanced my training another stage, yet so did Luna. Who was I to truly trust, if neither the mare who gave me this tome nor the possible catalyst of my eventual demise?
I shook my head, hoping to distill the clouds of doubt and disorder in my mind. Best not to fixate on this. It's already bad enough for my conscience as is.
Spike looked up from the pages of a compilation of epic poems, squinting at me. "Uh, dude, are you keeping up? You seem kinda distracted."
"Uh, yeah!" I blurted, eyes snapping to the pages as I tried to look engaged. "My eyes are just a little tired. That's all."
Spike furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to me. "Still worried about that thing, huh?"
"It's really that obvious?" I sigh, leaning back in the bed. "I can't stop thinking about it. Barely slept at all last night. I know I really shouldn't worry about it. It's just that for some reason, any time someone tells me that, I'm never really content with it. It's as though I can't really believe them; how can they be so sure if they've never been in my shoes?"
A familiar weight pressed on my shoulder.
"Believe it or not, I've been in the same kinda mess you were in," Spike said, turning me to face him. "When I was a little younger, it was my birthday. That day, I got more presents than I'd ever seen before. Each time I got a new one, it made me feel great, and I wanted more and more. It started doing things to me—scary things. I turned into a monster for the better part of an afternoon, all because I couldn't get enough." His eyes turned down for a moment. "I got better, but to be honest, I was kinda scared yesterday. I know you were psyching me up, but I could feel that side of me in the back of my head, wanting to worm its way out."
I rose my arm to try and give an inquisitive shrug. "So what stopped you there?"
Spike's mouth curled up, one of his fangs poking out with a blinding gleam as he patted my shoulder. "I remembered what I was fighting for. I remembered that I wasn't the only one riding on this. Everypony was counting on me—especially you."
My head drooped a little bit, my stomach briefly fluttering with laughter as I rubbed my temples with my good hand.
"Is it wrong of me to say that's a little—what's the word you'd use—cheesy?"
Spike chuckled back, dragging me into his chest.
"A little, yeah," he acknowledged, tussling my hair. "But that's just what I'm here for; as long as I can help you keep on goin', that's all I need."
We continued reading for a little while longer after that. I hadn't bothered keeping up with the time by then; just being that close to him gave me a nigh-familial comfort. Though we'd shared in this form of kinship earlier on in our travels, the sensations from this one were...calmer. The warmth of his sturdy, sleek arm around my limp form offered a sense of security I'd been lacking of late. While I was painfully aware that he could be doing this merely of his obligation, the tenderness with which he held me made me certain of his feelings. In him I was assured a kindred spirit, which was all I could honestly want.
Naturally, by the time Nia had come to check on us, the sight that greeted them was of questionable sexuality.
"Have I..." Nia brought a hoof to her eye out of reflex. "Come at an awkward moment?"
The two of us separated in record time, eyes spasming to avoid contact with each other as I turned them towards her. "N-not at all! Spike was just keeping me company with some pleasure reading. I was starting to go a bit limp, so he propped me up. We're fine, honest!"
The zebra gave a dry chuckle as she approached my side of the bed. "All is well; It's not my place to make assumptions." She offered a hoof to me. "I just came down to inspect how the treatment's progressed. I saw you'd regained some of your freedom of movement, so we may be able to get you up and moving again before we land."
I returned her gesture, sliding to the edge of the bed with my feet meeting the deck. "As much as I appreciate the concern, I'm not sure that—" Thump. Right down to all fours I went. "—my legs are quite able to hold my weight just yet."
"Well, here," she offered, lifting me by the chest with her head. "Try and support yourself on the wall for a moment."
I nodded, growling as I plastered my palms against the wall nearest me. My fingers held fast onto the wood, but my knees wobbled like a gelatin platter as they left the floor. By the time my toes were on the floor, the whole of my form was poised to come crashing down again. Whether through bravery or pure obstinence, I firmed myself up, tightening my abs and heaving the rest of my body up with one good roar. Despite my wavering stability, I grit my teeth, planting my feet firmly. Standing proudly once again, a sense of vindication welled in my lungs.
Naturally, this was immediately undercut when my non-dominant knee gave out five seconds later. Small victories, I suppose.
Nia clapped her hooves with a chortle. "Well, it's a start. As your body is only starting to regain its strength, it's normal to feel discouraged or weak. For what it's worth, I believe you are making excellent progress."
I hung my head low, slightly deflated from the compliment. "There's no way I can face Megan like this, though. I dueled her to a draw last time, but now I can barely stand on my own feet for more than a few seconds."
Nia fanned her hoof with a scoff. "You're putting unreasonable expectations on yourself. You said it before; she's of a significantly higher caliber to you. Even if you were at your peak, it would be difficult to best her. I don't recall her even mentioning a duel last time. Given what happened when you last crossed paths, she probably won't try to test you so rigorously. If anything, I think she'll be willing to help you do what's currently beyond my power."
My eyes turned up. "And you're certain of that?"
"As certain as my stripes are black," the zebra joked, helping me get upright once more. "Come, let's get you outside; some fresh air will do you some good."
"Right, right," I consented as Spike followed close behind. "May as well see what we have to look forward to when we land. Much as I love these poems, I probably should keep moving if I want to be through this."
The clouds were all but absent topside. As the lot of us neared the railing, we were met with steely gray mountain ranges mottled with verdant deciduous forests aplenty. The air gave a crisp, pleasant burn in my nose with each breath I took. Each time the winds picked up, the whistling was a wondrous tune that tickled the ears. Even the calls of what few brave birds followed us made were in a lovely tune. In spite the mild chill, it all came together into a soothing experience, if only for myself.
Though, perhaps spending my formative years in one of the coldest places in Equestria and juggling two bitterly opposed personae inside my conscience was making me ever so slightly mad. It would definitely explain a few things.
"Y'know, nice as this weather is, I'm not too keen on it myself."
Behind us was Napalm, who was carrying a sizable kettle in her mouth. What it contained wasn't within my knowledge, but given the smell it wafted and what I'd learnt of her, it was safe to assume potatoes were likely involved.
"Figured you might need a quick fix," she mumbled as she set the kettle on the deck. "Probably ain't as fancy as whatever you had in court or whatever, but what can you do."
I crossed my palm over my throat. "So long as it's not hay, I'm certain anything you make will do."
Napalm smirked as she opened the kettle. A plume of steam whisked into the sky, the smell of hot air and vegetable oil welcoming our noses as a wondrous blend of spices tempted our noses. Inside was a medley of sliced potatoes, fried to golden goodness and garnished with a plethora of herbs I hadn't recognized before. They were cut into longwise strips about as thick as one of my fingers and as wide as my thumb. Even as we took turns taking some onto our plates, they still billowed with steam, nearly sizzling as they touched our platters.
"I wasn't aware you were skilled in culinary arts," I noted, eagerly treating myself to one of the strips.
Napalm snorted in surprise. "Of course I can cook! What, did you think I wandered off into those mountains without knowing how to feed myself? Only an idiot would do that!"
"And yet you didn't know how to set up a tent," Spike countered with a cheeky smile.
Napalm whipped her head to Spike, staring at him in some vain hope that he might combust right in front of him. Realizing the potential danger that posed, Spike backed away with his arms raised.
"That's one of the handy things about having pyromancy as your talent, though," the earth pony noted. "Never have to worry about having a heat source to cook. This was a little tricky, though; you ever try and oil fry something with just your mouth?"
While I nodded along, my eyes widened when I noted the sudden emptiness of my platter. In due time, the others soon followed, leading Napalm to gain a chuffed grin as she gleefully refreshed us. "Given how quickly ya'll wolfed it down, I'd say I did a pretty good job."
"Good?!" Roughshod spat, his voice brimming with a frightening amount of vigor. "These are some of the best potatoes I've had in ages!" The donkey snapped Napalm up in his hooves, swinging her into a tango like dance. Everyone recoiled, the lot of us almost literally floored by the sudden burst of energy in the old ass. It wasn't until a few revolutions and Napalm's furious thrashing that he realized what he was doing. With a cough, he let Napalm down, scrambling to return to his typical surly demeanor. "Right, pardon that. Just hadn't had something like that in a good while."
Napalm scratched her scalp. "Oh...kay, gonna make a note there; old man likes to eat. And dance, apparently."
The rest of us shrugged and kept eating, myself voraciously tearing through handfuls of the fried delicacy.
This, as I soon discovered, would be a damning error. Within minutes, my tongue kindled a terrible heat. My eyes watered, clamping shut as the burning spread to my cheeks. Seconds later, my face was drenched in sweat, and my throat begged for refreshment whilst the others were somehow unaffected.
"Napalm, what kind of spices did you put in these potatoes?" I wheezed, clutching my neck.
Napalm pointed to the kettle. "In there? Stuff we picked up in Rinth. Guy who got it to us said it'd give us more endurance or something. I don't know; I wasn't paying all that much attention."
It was at that moment that I was floored proper, gasping desperately for breath before being soaked from a bucket of milk emptied right on my head. A few gut-wrenching coughs later, and a coolness slipped down my throat. My eyes immediately swept the deck for any sign of my savior.
Lo and behold, it was Juno, eyes flickering with a blank stare like a confused dog. "According to my data, when somepony is under spice-related distress—especially of the type concerning capsaicin—that the most common form of relief is to consume milk." she leaned in to look closer. "Given your level of distress, I reasoned that the most effective method of delivery was to douse you indirectly."
Once my throat was sufficiently cleaned out, I righted myself. "Your assistance was very much appreciated," I replied, pounding my chest to clear out any remaining guff. Then I approached her and held her by the shoulders, holding her tenderly. "However, I'd prefer if you refrained from using that particular method. You did the right thing, mind—just not in the most optimal of ways."
Juno gave two quick nods. "Acknowledged. I will attempt to be more delicate in my response to that scenario." The robot cocked her head a few notches to the right. "Is there anything else I can provide for you?"
"A towel, please."
This next stop was going to be quite a special one for me, I felt.
***
As the ship came to a hover, the lot of us peeked over the decks to get a good view of the environs.
I bent over the rails, standing on my toes. "This clearing looks a bit too large to be natural," I noted, fingers clinging tight in an attempt to prevent vertigo. "Which must mean we're in the right place.
"Too right about that," Roughshod agreed, peeking down with me. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was clear cut some time ago. Stumps probably got removed, too." He poked his chin in a rhythm I couldn't place. "Either this place is some kind of docking area for those shepherds, or whatever lives here needs a lot of room to move."
Spike rounded his shoulders whilst Kenta brought the ship down to dry dock. "Whatever the case, we need to be ready for anything," he added, putting a claw on my shoulder. "Soon as we get to the door, we need to come up with a plan."
I nodded, fixing my eyes on the door. "From what we know, it's likely going to be tight inside."
I waved everyone down to the deck, keeping close to Spike as we leapt to met the ground. While my knees shook from protest, they didn't buckle quite as immediately as before. While the others disembarked, I cleared my head, trying to feel for anything out of the ordinary as I rubbed one of my temples.
Roughshod chuckled as he passed me. "Trying to find her before she finds you, eh?" He shrugged a hoof, ushering me forward. "Come. She'll arrive when she knows you're here."
Once we were all on the ground, Spike and Nia took turns helping me regain my posture. Nothing too drastic, mind; just basic stretches and posing to help wake sleeping muscles. All the while, I had my eyes skyward, in search of the thunderbird. In my head, I was certain it hadn't yet strayed from our course. It'd be too hard to shake me, given how much power I felt I was radiating, even in my weakened state. Perhaps my weary body and restless mind had left me desperate for that errant spark's shine to brighten my mood. Wishful thinking was certainly more helpful than constant dread, at least.
Eventually, a familiar shift in the air swiftly caught my attention. Sure enough, Megan had appeared once more, still in rather immaculate dress and armed with her prior equipment. As we all came to recognize her, her face turned up into a bright grin.
"It would appear that I'm right on time," she noted, approaching me with a steady gait. Her eyes scanned my body, pursing her lips as she held my cheek. "Odd. I don't see any overt signs of sickness, but it looks like your strength has all but left you." The mage shifted to address Nia. "I presume you might have been involved in that, yes?"
Nia hung her head. "I am guilty as charged," she admitted as she touched my chest. "In light of our last meeting, I had attempted to open up his arcane pathways to try and flush out any dark energies in him." She then lifted one of my arms and let it drop limp to illustrate my condition. "However, in so doing, it caused him a great deal of pain and left his body practically paralyzed from the neck down."
"You did what?" Megan's eyes took the size of polo balls. "That could very well have killed him!"
Napalm kicked her head back with a hearty guffaw. "Given the way he was screaming, he was all but begging for it."
The lot of us shot a glance at Napalm, which provoked a cringe from her. "Right. Sorry. Not helping."
Megan returned to me, her fingers aglow with the glimmer of magic. "Right, let's see if I can't assess the damage," she said, working the buttons of my clothes. "Will you allow me to see you in your smallclothes? I'd like to get a better look of you." She held up an open palm. "I swear, it is strictly medical."
I was hesitant at first. While the others had seen me in full undress before, something about being in such a state with Megan seemed off to me. I'd been naked before another one of my kin, yes, but that could have merely been a fantasy for all I was aware. Yet as I looked deeply at her expression, I found nothing but an intimate concern. The ginger way she handled me reminded me of how I was cared for at home. She kept a calm smile about her, her eyes gleaming with hope.
With a deep breath, I nodded to her. "Very well. I have faith in your skill."
With a few deft motions, the suit I'd worn from Griffonstone was reduced to a neat pile on the ground, my full musculature on display. Megan stood me up, producing a wall of force to prop me against as her fingers ran the span of my body. "Your body's incredibly tense," she noted, testing the range of motion in my leg. "It's a wonder you can stand at all." When her fingers reached my abs, she pursed her lips. "Even so, there's quite a lot of energy that's built up."
Resolute, she turned to Nia. "I believe I can explain what happened with your treatment."
"Is that so?" Nia's ears perked with intrigue. "Please, I'd love to know."
"To begin, I believe you said the intent of said treatment was to try and purge the body by increasing the circulation of Lance's natural mana flow," she started, caressing my spine as she highlighted the area with a blue light. "In theory, that would allow his own innate magic to try and overpower that of the Nightmare's." She then pointed to my heart. "However, there's two problems with that treatment method. First, there's the fact that Nightmares are most affected by positive energy—that of most things considered 'holy' or 'good'. Most mortals can channel or draw that energy, but they don't produce it naturally."
"Like the Elements of Harmony?" Spike queried.
Megan nodded. "Indeed. As for the second problem," she continued, pointing to my head now, "this one has quite a bit more mana than usual; even by the standards of more naturally-gifted magi. So much, in fact, that when it was all let loose, it very likely overtaxed his nervous system, filling him with so much energy that his body couldn't properly distribute it."
"So the procedure made him stiff and ache y," Napalm confirmed. "We knew that much, so what's all this mean?"
The mage cleared her throat. "Put simply, his body's so full of mana that his body literally doesn't know what to do with it all."
Nia put a hoof to her chin. "I see. So what can be done to fix this?"
Megan looked particularly chuffed as she set down her packs. "Luckily, I have something which just may help this situation." She kneeled down, reaching deep inside to the point where her head was face-deep inside. "Given that he has so much energy, it stands to reason that the best course of treatment is to find a way to discharge it all." With a gasp of exertion, she produced a clear orb in her hands, only slightly tarnished by dust and lint. "Didn't think I'd find a use for this thing; it was utterly worthless for divining."
Spike cocked his head, pointing to the orb. "A crystal ball? How's that going to work?"
"Simple," Megan replied, sitting behind me as she placed the ball in my lap. "This ball is inert; It lacks any form of energy or power, making it effectively an empty vessel." Her hands cupped around mine, wrapping my fingers around the ball as though we were collaborating in clay sculpture. "I'm going to have you try and place your excess energies inside this ball, Lance. I promise, it won't hurt."
Goosebumps ran up my arms as I peered down at the orb, flecks of my worn face reflecting back at me. Its weight felt as though it was made of lead than a hunk of clean crystal. When my grip tightened on it, I couldn't shake the odd feeling I had while holding it. This subtle offness of holding such a nearly-perfect thing and the idea of violating it with my impure energies struck me as ever so slightly wrong. Regardless, I took a deep breath and nodded my head. "So how are we doing this?"
Megan's fingers crossed over mine. "Keep breathing, for one," she added, her head now peering over my shoulder. "Hone your focus on your blood-flow, starting at the head. Then work your way down from the chest to your fingertips. Picture your energy like water flowing through your veins." She slowly matched her breaths with mine, working us both into a steady rhythm as a tingling sensation rippled through my arms. "Once you have a good visualization of your mana flow, guide it into the orb."
The tingling progressed steadily until my hands turned numb, the only sensation coming from the energy that was pooling inside of them. My fingers began to glow like Megan's were, the orb following shortly thereafter. My heart pounded steadily harder and harder, the air around me tightening like a vacuum. I shut my eyes, gulping as it began to pulsate with increasing vigor. As more and more power flowed inside, I felt a part of me being drawn into it, leaning in as though it were a child in my arms. Like a heartbeat, the orb pulsed, faster and faster to meet my own. My every hair stood at attention, what few active muscles I had tensing in anticipation, and then...
Bang.
In a split-second, all the breath was stolen from my lungs. The crystal ball let out a deafening boom, a beam of bright gold erupting from it like a volcano. A second boom came as it hit the clouds, cutting a clean round swathe into the sky and spooking flocks of at least thirty birds. The force with which they detonated rocked all but Megan and I to the ground, Juno being driven to her knees. Trees around us snapped back, nearly being uprooted from the magnitude of the shockwave.
What dust and debris had once dotted the ball was gone now. What was once a reflective, empty void was now a surging mass of electricity, a literal case of lightning in a bottle. The way the energy swirled around in the orb, multiple tendrils of light arcing inside it, was simultaneously terrifying and inspirational. The aura it projected was full-bodied and strong, standing as physical evidence of the power I'd let free from my body. Then, when I went to grab it, the tendrils all pointed at my fingers.
"Holy hay..." Napalm gasped, eyes wide in astonishment.
Spike approached me, poking the orb with his claws, cringing as the tendrils met the tips harmlessly. "Unreal," he whispered, prodding it with amusement. "Dude, I think you just made a plasma globe! I used to see these all the time in Canterlot!"
I caressed the orb with my fingertips, looking to Megan with concern. "Was this your intention?"
Megan balanced her arm out. "I was honestly either expecting a more subtle reaction or something more extreme, but it looks like it worked."
"How will I know?" I asked, voice slightly hoarse.
The mage lifted her palm up. "Stand up. You should have more freedom to move now."
I nodded, pushing myself up with my arms. But, the instant I was on my feet, my balance was thrown way off kilter, forcing me to the ground again. While I winced in pain for a moment, the surprise that moment gave me quickly sublimated into joy. Finally, I thought to myself, freedom of movement, at last! Where before I was so strained I could barely manage a hobble on my own, I now felt practically featherweight. Cackling like a happy goblin, I fluttered my legs and jabbed the air. The gloom and worry that had weighed on my heart dissipated, if only for a moment, as I reveled in my returned strength.
Napalm smirked and turned to Nia, "Well I don't know about you, but it looks like he's got his mojo back."
"Looks like it, huh," Spike murmured as he continued to rub the orb in his hands. "So what is this thing supposed to do now?"
Megan rested her knuckles beneath her chin. "Well, if I were a proper artificer, I might try and fashion something of it." She pointed to the sky with her other hand. "However, given the amount of energy he just shot up into the sky, I'd suggest we get inside."
I shot my head up. "What? Why?"
"There are two possibilities, Master," Juno noted, helping me to my feet. "Either the energy dispersed has spooked the local wildlife away from the area around us, or it has given predators and dangerous persons a clear indication of our position." The robotic pony hugged my arm. "Though I do not doubt our capabilities as a whole, you are still not in fighting condition. I recommend we proceed with our current mission."
I opened my mouth in preparation for a counter-argument, but I quickly grew silent. There was work to be done, and the time for doing it was now. That in mind, I quickly got dressed, waving everyone to follow as I stuck close to Megan.
"I assume you must know more about this temple than the scouts from Rinth, yes?" I asked her, pointing to the doorway.
"Let me try and remember." Megan rubbed two fingers between her brows. "I believe it was meant to house exotic beasts—things not native to this realm. We meant to house them here to prevent them from becoming extinct or invasive species during the war." She then shook her head, as if clearing out mental cobwebs. "Unfortunately, I am not familiar with what all lives in there. They may end up attacking us, seeing as it's been ages since our kind have last set foot inside."
"About those creatures," I interrupted as we reached the summit. "Do thunderbirds flock here?"
Megan chuckled. "It's a possibility. Though it's more likely now than before we arrived. If we're lucky, perhaps we'll be graced with one."
Her response got a smile from me. The way she responded gave me a sense of closure and hope. Perhaps I'd have something else to discover once this was past me.
"Right, let's get our formation in order," I stated whilst taking a moment to stretch my calves. "Seeing as Megan is likely the expert, she'll be taking point. I'll follow close behind, using my new vision to get an idea of what's ahead. Juno and Spike, you'll be behind me with Juno taking the front position. Kenta, you're on scouting duty. Roughshod will be in the middle, and Nia and Napalm will be the rear guard. Does that sound fair to everyone?"
"Better than being stuck with meat-breath," Napalm scoffed, making a gagging expression with her hoof.
Roughshod shrugged. "Can't see no fault in that. Little curious as to how your vision is going to work in a dark space like that."
"Simple." I put a hand in front of my face as though I were donning a mask. With a sharp breath, I flung the hand outward and my vision faded to monochrome. "This spell's relatively simple to maintain. I learned it not long after Nia's treatment. It should help us find our way if the torches go out."
Megan raised a brow in amusement. "Yet again you prove an impressively fast learner. To be that far into Umbramancy already takes dedication."
I shyied away a moment, face turning slightly red. "I guess I'm just a quick study," I chuckled as I moved on, trying to pull myself together.
As was the case in the prior temples, pictograms were etched along the walls. They were in remarkably legible condition for their age, and were made to suit the purpose the temple had been built for. This time, we were greeted with images of my people's interactions with animals. Some of them were fairly familiar to me—the domestication of wolves into service dogs, the use of birds as couriers and scouts, and the use of livestock for milk and grazing.
One image in particular, however, gave me considerable pause. It was image of a shepherd dressed in plate armor, riding atop the back of what looked to be a pony. However, it was larger—similar in stature to a Saddle Arabian—and appeared to lack a cutie mark of any kind. There were images of similar design along the walls, showing groups of them in military formation carrying battle standards. Curious, I pressed my fingers along the etchings in the wall, turning to Megan.
"Ah, yes," Megan answered, her voice turned up in realization. "You've never seen what our horses look like, I wager."
"They look nothing like Equestrians," I noted, focusing on the flanks. "They look so much taller. They seem so much...plainer."
"Yes, well..." Megan rubbed a shoulder, turning her head down with an uncharacteristically guilty look. "How do I put this politely," she mumbled, pacing about as she held her temples. "You see..." she clapped her hands together, her thumbs meeting the bridge of her nose.
The mage spent a good minute's worth of false starts, massaging her head to try and coax the most sensitive words she could muster, giving increasingly more pronounced groans of frustration each time she failed to speak. Eventually, she gave a heavy sigh.
"There's no two ways about it," she snapped dryly. "Our equines were never really bright. They were just as wild and as capricious as any other animal in the world."
"So you trained them to carry you?" Spike stammered, himself now oddly red. "Isn't that slavery or indentured servitude or something?"
Megan shook her head, hiding her face. "In the same way it might be for a dog to herd sheep or a cat to catch mice."
I crossed my arms with concern. "I imagine it didn't sit right with early Equestrians."
Megan nodded, biting her lip. "It was a point of contention for several years, actually. We were accused of exploiting their simpler-minded kin for our own gain. It took us many rides through the still-wild continent before they came to terms with how our horses trusted us." she turned away, now more ashamed than embarrassed. "This must all seem so odd to you; you must have a different idea of cavalry."
"Perhaps it's best we keep moving," I suggested, moving further ahead. "We'll discuss it later."
Megan just nodded. The lines in her face as she glanced at me gave me a distinct impression that this was an issue that she'd had to deal with for quite a while. The distance she gave me and the others left a terrible dead air about our delve. Though her body seemed completely untouched by the ravages of time, that lack of luster in her eyes as she kept her eyes forward showed a different story. She seemed to be constantly trying to look past the bitter memories this place evoked, but each picture we passed slowed her pace more and more. It was as though the floor was quicksand, drawing her deeper to a standstill.
After a point, she just stopped dead in her tracks, resting her face on a nearby wall. Her haggard pants painted the walls, her legs trembling at the ankles. She murmured something beneath her breath, the words beyond understanding as she knelt down. Her forehead kissed the wall, as though she were trying desperately to meld with it. As I neared her, her anxeiety washed over me, spreading her tremors to myself. By the time I was at her level, the expression that was painted over her face told me all I needed to know.
Her eyes, which were once steely and reflective of the world about her, had become vacant. Her pupils were almost abysmally deep, and her irises felt cold and empty. She bore that ghostly pallor of someone who'd watched a favorite pet or dear friend be brought low before her. All sense of composure and grace was drained from her cheeks, now drooping with dread and melancholy. Even the way she was knelt showed little else but bitter anguish. As soon as she fixed her gaze on me, I felt as though she were trying to go straight for my heart with some invisible force.
"I should not have come here."
It was a hoarse, cold statement. A summation so stark that it left a stinging chill in the air. It was like she'd compressed all this despair and anguish down inside her for ages, only for it all to slip out in one short burst. To see a beacon of power and confidence brought to such a low was so bleak, it nearly froze us where we stood. Yet, as I stared into those empty eyes, I found myself drawn in, holding her at arm’s length as I turned her to face us.
"Megan, this isn't like you at all," I whispered, my eyes never wavering from hers. "What's all this about? You weren't like this at all in the other temples."
Megan's eyes were desperate to play keepaway. They shook as though there were magnets pulling on them, juttering every which way until finally settling back on me with slightly wider pupils. The frightening pace her chest had taken earlier relaxed, some of the warmth returning to her form as she leaned against the wall. Then, with a resigned breath, she addressed me.
"This one is different," she began curtly. "While it was still built for a particular purpose—the care and housing of species that are not native to Equestria—as you may have guessed, they're also shelters for particularly important ponies."
"And given how they've reacted to you in contrast to us, they must be very familiar with you," Roughshod spat, recalling our previous encounters with Twilight and Applejack.
Megan nodded, pulling her knees up. "You'd be correct in thinking that. But, I worry we have little time for me to elaborate here." Bracing herself against the wall in much like I had, she yanked herself to her feet. "I think it's best I show you for now; let's keep moving."
A wave of equal parts frustration, concern, and disappointment sloshed around in my head as we proceeded. Megan felt so much colder and more distant now, her aura bringing everyone silent as we kept on down the cavernous passages of the temple. The deeper we delved, the more something felt...off. True, I had ventured into temples this empty before, but it was especially egregious here. Us aside, it was practically barren, the echoes of our footsteps our only company. Had something happened prior to our arrival? Was the place truly deserted? Were we simply so starved for new stimuli that we were hearing phantom noises off in the distance? It was hard to consider at the time.
Luckily, Spike decided to break the ice.
"So, if this is an animal shelter..." Spike trailed off, scratching his chin. "Then where all are the animals?"
"Deeper underground," Megan replied tersely, pointing at the floor. "These halls are too narrow for any more than a couple of oxen to pass through, so we have them in specialized facilities down below."
The more I heard about my kin's relationship with animals, the more it tempted me to get in touch with Twilight's friends to hear their take. By the time we had finally reached a doorway, my mind was abuzz with a hundred questions, but was starved for time for any of them. Instead, my attention was focused squarely on the door.
In keeping with the trend of this temple being more difficult than its predecessors, the doorway this time was closed shut. There didn't appear to be any kind of handle for either species or any kind of groove in the stone. Instead, there was only a rather primal-looking etching of a tree drawn in a spiral manner with some equally-ancient writing beneath it. Dotted around the tree were six small holes, each about the diameter of my ring finger, gleaming faintly in the torchlight. Whoever made this door must obviously have valued their privacy quite a bit, as none of us had any good idea as to what it all meant. Megan ran her hand along the writing, eyes narrowed to better examine the way it was carved.
"Speak softly, friend, and bear a patient heart," she hummed. "Reminds me of something I read in a book many moons ago."
"So you know the answer?" Spike gasped.
"I do indeed," she chuckled vainly, nearing the door again. "Mellon."
Initially, the door remained stubbornly shut. I expected Megan to be disappointed, but she seemed oddly at ease as she backed away. We all shared odd glances as she crossed her arms. At first, I was certain she was simply trying to maintain her sagely facade by guessing the answer, but her unflagging expression told me otherwise. The rest of us, meanwhile, broke off to try and find other rooms while I stayed behind. Decently confused by her certainty, I examined the wall.
"Are you sure that's the answer?" I wondered aloud, peering in every nook and cranny around the frame I could spot. "It still seems to be shut."
Megan chuckled. "Be mindful of the writing on the door, Lance. Bear a patient heart."
I didn't quite understand her meaning upon first hearing that. But, sure enough, when I examined the actual door, it had become slightly ajar, a tiny crack revealing another room on the other side. As I returned to the wall, I called the others back, now anxious to see what was inside. The others tilted their heads, Spike nearly falling over from how far he was leaning to try and see inside the crack. Before long, we all caught side of a butter-yellow shape behind the door, a green eye peering out.
"W-who's there?" whimpered the shape in a distinctly flighty, feminine voice.
Megan neared the door, keeping her smile light. "It's me. I've brought someone I think you'll be delighted to meet."
Once the door was three-quarters open, we all got a good look at the mare behind it. At first blush, she was a near spitting image of Twilight's friend Fluttershy. The heart-like molding of her mane, the eyes that seemed to look every which way but forward, the body that was desperate to shrink away to nothing, everything seemed the exact same. And yet, two things were conspicuous in their absence. For one, this mare was an earth pony. And perhaps most importantly, the cutie mark was a flower rather than a set of butterflies. The instant she laid her eyes on me, her eyes practically shined like a lighthouse on a distant pier.
"Is that..." the mare whispered, approaching me incredulously. "Is this the one I was hearing about?"
"The genuine article," Megan replied, putting a hand on my shoulder as she motioned to the pony. "Lance, meet Posey."
I knelt down to get to the earth pony's level, a twinge of unease crawling through me as I offered my hand. Her gaze was wrapping all about me, checking every corner of my being as she made absolutely certain that I was actually before her. Her cheeks were lightening to a peachy shade as she felt my hand, a giggle escaping her cheeks as she explored the joints. "This is incredible," she said, brightening up little by little as she extended my arm. "It's been ages since I've seen one of you in person. You're a bit darker than I imagined, but it's wonderful to finally get to see you!"
"It's...nice to meet you, too," I stuttered, patting her on the back. "Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but may we come inside? We have some important business here."
Posey nodded in a manner almost too eager to please. "Of course! Anything for someone who knows Miss Megan!"
Posey led us inside single-file. Her face was beaming with that eagerness one sees in a child preparing to present their most prized collection of toys. While this room had the familiar trappings we'd seen, there was a veritable trove of biology and ecology texts stacked with gentle care and organized in such a way that made the intellectual in me squeal in delight. The whole set was practically immaculate, even after all this time. The only disappointment I had was a lack of any books that pointed to my own kin. Or at least, any that were obvious to me.
"Amazing, isn't it?" she asked, perhaps sharing in my enthusiasm. "I only wish I had books on you, but I think they forgot to stock them."
"That's quite alright," Megan insisted, heading to a corner of the room where a terminal was situated. "He's as interested in finding out about his brethren as you are. As a matter of fact, he's here to collect another piece of those coordinates we left."
Posey bit her lip, clicking her hooves together. "There's just one issue with that."
Spike rose an eyebrow. "That being?"
"Well..." Posey shrunk down a bit, her neck going limp as she scratched the floor with her hoof. She slowly approached the terminal, popping open a small latch beneath the console to reveal a tiny switch inside. With a quick jab of her hoof's nail, the button let out a teeny "click", but the machine connected to it remained eerily silent. "I haven't been able to get it working for ages. I think a thunderstorm from years ago may have drained its power or something."
"That can't be right." Megan shook her head. "These things are meant to withstand the force of a crashing dragon. It seems off that a thunderstorm would do it in."
Posey curled into her hooves, a wave of red surfacing from her fur. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I wish I could find a better explanation, but that's all I can think of."
"Then this doesn't bode well." Megan tapped the toes of her boots to the stone. "We need to find a way to restore the power to it. Without the files from that terminal, we can't complete the program necessary to find our homeland again."
My eyes were drawn to the orb Spike was holding. The energy that ebbed from it greased the gears inside my head. I extended my hand to Spike, my grin decidedly more wicked than I remembered it being.
"You look like you have a plan," he said, passing the orb to me, "but I'm not sure this'll fit in there."
"Oh, I'm not planning on using this to power it," I clarified, pointing to the orb. "Megan, you said that we may be more likely to attract thunderbirds with that outburst of energy, right?"
Megan crossed her arms together. "I said it was a possibility. What did you have in mind?"
I pointed to the ceiling. "There's one that's been following our ship. If my hunch is correct, it's likely still nearby. If I could find some way to discharge some of this energy the same way I put it in, we could get it to come to us and see if it can't get something flowing through here again."
Posey peeked up from her hooves, eyes brightening up. "That...might work. I can probably talk to it if we got it down here."
"Of course, I can't just go out there on my own," I reasoned, nearing the door. "So, I'm going to need one of you to assist me." I beckoned Megan over. "Come. I think you'll do well for this."
"Me?" Megan pointed to herself in surprise. "Why?"
"Because you're the resident expert of magic," I replied, now cradling the orb like a kitten. "I trust you with this thing far more than myself."
I admit, I was speaking a half-truth then. Not to mean I was lying, of course; I just didn't want to speak my true intentions at that moment. Everyone else seemed in agreement, given the lack of objection from the others. Spike just shrugged when I eyed him from the doorway. Realizing she'd been cornered, Megan shook her head and followed behind, sparking off a mote of light with a snap of her fingers. I made it a point to walk quickly, just fast enough to not raise suspicion. Every time I looked back to check on her, Megan was more focused on the walls beside her than the halls ahead. Once we were topside, I swore I heard a sigh of relief.
"I swear, the air around this place weighs on me more than I recall."
"About that," I interjected. "What was all that about in there? I've never seen your composure break so spectacularly."
"No way out of that, I suppose." Megan covered her face with a hand, as though she were donning a mask. "You want to know the truth? Posey wasn't the only pony in that temple. There was someone else—someone very special to me. Someone of such significance that without her, I may never have made it to this point. I was almost certain she'd be here, but I haven't seen a single trace of her. Not even a feather or a lock of hair or anything. I hoped I'd be able to make amends with her for all that happened now that I'd found you, but it looks like she got tired of waiting." Her eyes drew skyward. "To say that I feel guilty about it all is an understatement."
"So who was she?" I said, shrugging an arm. "Maybe I came across her at some point and she never realized who it was."
"Her name was Firefly," Megan answered, her gaze still away from me as she crossed her arms. "She was the leader of all the other ponies we've met, in a sense. When this world was desperate, she reached out to us and our kin, with me being her first contact. All those stories you may have heard about me are true in some extent. I helped defeat Tirek, brought the early Crystal Ponies to civilization, and I played a part in helping form Equestria as you know it."
"Well if that's true, then why do so few books even mention that you existed? That we existed?" I begged, my throat now straining from disbelief. "I saw Firefly with my own eyes when I was just a child. She could have told me everything! Why did she never say anything?"
"Just because we're immortal doesn't mean we're immune from the strains of time." Megan swiftly turned to me. "By the time she saw you, it may very well have been centuries since that war. She could very well have forgotten, just as the rest of that kingdom forgot me. If I were to walk into Canterlot right now, chances are, all I'd get are the same questions you've had to run afoul of. That's the tragedy of immortality, Lance; eventually, only your memories will survive when everyone else's fades to myth." She placed a hand on her chest. "I wish I could just start from where we left off, but it just isn't that simple; not when there's so much time lost between then and now."
From there, we froze up. As I looked at Megan, her eyes were leaking out, her breath now all but gone from her as she struggled to pull herself back together. Her hair was drooping with sweat, and she gazed at me with a piercing glare that went straight through me. She was balling one of her hands into a fist, trying to squeeze out as much of her anger and frustration out through her fingers as she could. She couldn't bring herself to say anything more, just continuing to stare at me like she was trying to place some kind of curse on me. It wasn't until a minute had passed that I finally worked up the nerve to respond to her.
I opened my arms wide, opening my palms.
"Then why not start at the beginning?"
Megan took a sharp gasp. The blood was pooling in her face, her cheeks boiling strawberry red as she focused her efforts on breathing. Her eyes drifted to the open hand over her chest, raising and lowering as she took deep, slow drags of the moist air about her. She paid me little mind, now focusing on rebuilding the shattered mask of her composure. The fingers of her fist were losing their hold with each cycle, soon going limp as they rested on her hip. With a deep intake, she turned up to face me again, her expression blank as she regarded me with half-lidded eyes.
"So what is it you want to know?" she sighed, her agitation not quite gone from her voice.
"Well first, I'd like to get something important off my mind," I replied, carefully trying to close the distance between us. "When we met at that first temple, Juno said that we 'shared a similar genetic code'. There's plenty that could be gleaned from that, but I think it's best if I be frank."
With a heavy gulp, I let loose perhaps one of the heaviest set of words to ever come from my lips.
"Are you my mother?"
Megan had barely changed when I'd said that. Her eyes had gone cold again, the pupils now boring into me as she crossed her arms. She turned her head away, clearly wanting to avoid the topic. The way her body tremored only very slightly gave me a clear impression that she was holding something strong back.
And yet, in my time seeing her, I was never truly ready for what she did next.
Without a single tell, without warning or hesitation, she drew me in by my arm and brought me into a tight, chest-bumping embrace.
While I'd seen her in anger, pride, and now recently frustration and sadness, I'd never quite seen her in such a state as this before. Before, her emotions were precise, calculated, always metered out and dispensed in careful doses to maintain her queenly persona. But here she was now, holding me so close now that I could hear her breath and the beating of her own heart. An odd sound was coming from her now, half between a sob and a chuckle; an utterance that dripped with relief as she gripped me with bear-like vigor.
"I have waited far too long for this moment," she hiccuped, never once loosening up. "I am at a loss for what to say."
For a brief moment, I had shared her sentiment. This sudden swerve in mood had sent my train of thought so far off the rails that the ensuing wreckage may well have ruined an nearby station. Here I was, embracing the woman who I now knew as my mother, who was now in such a state of intense grief that it had come back into happiness. She just held me as though I were about to die, uncaring of the world around her. It was a tenderness and affection I'd not seen since my youth.
"Right, well." I gave a short cough to clear the air. "Now that we've established that, I suppose I should ask who the father was."
"A very bold man, for one." Megan chuckled, wiping her face. "You would have loved to meet him. I knew him as Alexis. He was in almost every measure my equal. He couldn't cast a spell to save his life, but few men I knew could handle a blade quite as well as him. Wasn't that good with words, but his sword sung the most glorious hymns."
I lowered my eyes. "I assume something unpleasant happened to him."
Megan nodded slowly. "During the exodus, he was part of the phalanx that helped shield us while we fled for the boats. Last words I ever heard from him were, "Make sure he knows what we've done."
"And that's why you've had me on this little sidequest, is it?" I reasoned, standing up. "To try and understand what all happened?"
"Exactly. Before anything else, we wanted to make sure you knew everything. That way, when the time comes, you won't have to live through the same horrors we did."
My eyes returned to the orb, the energy that crackled through it reminding me of my original intent.
"I suppose, then, that we shouldn't keep this waiting anymore."
After nodding to one another, we cradled the orb together. We each held a half, our fingers intertwined and our eyes focused on the power within it. I breathed deeply, steadying myself as I let my rekindled spirit ebb inside of it. Megan joined in shortly thereafter, our energies blending with the one presently inside it to form a sort of double-helix, coiling around it without ever coming to meet the other. Then, like the strands of a rope coming as one, our powers united, the orb now gyrating faintly under the strain of containing it. Our brows creased, sweat dissipating off the orb as its power radiated a hearthlike flame. In hindsight, it would've been prudent for me to have worn gloves. And then...
Phoosh. A verdant green flare burst from the orb, an arcane cannonball that shot up into the air with the speed of a rocket. It screeched up, proud and powerful, before detonating like a firework, leaving a bright little ball of a beacon. It drew in electricity from nearby stormclouds, robbing of them of their essence and adding to its own as it thumped to an enigmatic rhythm. The lightning that expanded it formed into a bubble, shimmering with each beat.
"And now we play the waiting game," Megan sighed, shading her brow with her hand. "This should give it a nice big beacon to follow."
The two of us took the opportunity to rest as I shared my stories up to that point. Though I struggled to maintain my own composure recounting the contents of the letter, she couldn't help but chuckle at my escapades in Rinth.
"Sounds about on the mark, that," she hummed, folding her knees in. "Probably would have been fun to watch. I'm sure your father would have appreciated it, too. He always was a scrappy one."
Once that was out of the way, she gave me a quick primer on various blocky runes and alchemical symbols used for traditional casting rituals used in protective charms and evocations. Though I couldn't foresee myself holing up to see what kinds of spells I could craft in the dead of night, it was worth knowing in case I needed to throw together something in the heat of battle. The thought of fighting hadn't entered my mind again up to that point; now that I was aware of both my parents' careers, the idea of me embodying both struck me as oddly fitting now. If only I had the skill to properly match it.
A half hour went by before we heard a loud cry cut through the air. Clouds had gathered now, and that familiar blue ball of energy rapidly approached.
"There she blows," Megan declared triumphantly. "Took the bait like a hungry salmon."
Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as I gazed up to view it. "How do I get it to come to me?"
"Show it a display of your power," Megan answered, raising her finger to it. "Let out some of the energy that led it here, and it should come to you swiftly."
With a nod, I rose my open palm to the sky. In an instant, a spark shot out from my fingers, fluttering off like a butterfly to greet the orb in the clouds. The orb took note of the spark rather immediately, but to my surprise, it didn't react with the sense of immediacy I had expected it to. At first, it had merely orbited the spark, curious as to where it came from. Then, it approached at a glacial speed, its presence becoming ever more apparent as I witnessed its aura fade away before my eyes. Before long, it had revealed its true self, now fixing its intense gaze upon me.
This was a magnificent azure creature, possessing the head of a harpy eagle, the breast of an owl, the wings of a falcon, and the tail of a peafowl. Its wingspan was massive, large enough to engulf my entire head. Its eyes were a bright, icy turquoise that burrowed deep into me. Every beat of its wings was long and powerful, creating a tiny gust in each flap that forced my eyes shut. Even then, I refused to shield my face in its midst. Instead, I lowered my off-hand near it, letting a current flow gently through it as I crooked my elbow. Then, as a show of respect, I went to one knee.
Try as I might to hide it, tremors shook all across me as the bird came closer. Every hair on my person was at attention as it robbed every ounce of static in the air, cooing in curiosity. As it extended its long lean legs out to me, its sleek talons bared, the weight of this creature's presence nearly flattened me. Yet, when it finally clutched my forearm, the motion was quick. It was a tiny, deliberate motion that shook my arm as its talons found purchase in it. The gleam in its beady eyes suggested it was aware of my efforts, its weight shifting as it crooked its neck to eye-level. Its piercing gaze never left me, judging me with folded wings.
Then, after a worrying pause, it bowed its head without a sound.
I was at a loss with how to respond. I didn't want to make any sudden moves in fear of disturbing it, but I needed to find a way to ingratiate myself to it. With great trepidation, I lifted two fingers from my free hand to caress its head. In one slow, careful glide, my fingers slid down its neck, just barely avoiding its wings. After a second pass, it was undeterred. Once I'd done it a third time, a glimmer of relief shined in my mind. Feeling more daring, I scratched its breast gently, chuckling to myself. The bird pivoted its head up, making a soft coo at me as it leaned in.
Megan smiled, crossing her feet. "Looks like you made a good impression with him. Good work."
I smiled back, giving the bird one last caress. "I guess so," I chuckled, folding my arm so the bird could get close. "I hope we'll make a good team together."
"With that, I think we should get going," Megan insisted, gesturing to the entrance. "Much as I'd love to watch your growing kinship with this beautiful creature, I think we've been out here too long as it is."
"Oh, right!" I blurted, nearly spooking the bird as I cringed. "Let's hurry! They have to be worried sick!"
With that, the two us hurried back inside, our spirits galvanized by a further strengthened bond.
***
When we'd returned to Posey's room, everyone gawped in awe at the bird on my arm.
"That's a thunderbird?" Spike gasped, barely containing a grin. "That's wicked!"
"Aye, definitely," Roughshod agreed. "Didn't think you'd manage it, but here we are."
I raised my hand to quiet everyone. "We can save the celebrations and such when we're out of here." Tickling my new companion by his breast, I turned him towards the computer. "Think you can give this thing a boost?"
The bird cocked its head towards me, then back to the machine. The glossy sheen in his eyes demonstrated at least a partial understanding as it made a few cautious flaps to the machine, its talons clicking on top of the area where the monitor had been mounted. Its feathers ruffled as what little charge was left inside the metal was stolen into its form. Its neck craned down, curious to see its own reflection as it cooed. It cautiously tapped the screen with its beak, only to be answered by clinks from its contact. It brought its gaze back to me, as if to gain some insight from me. The most I could use to give him a clue was to rub my index finger and thumb together, letting a teeny spark arc between them.
Unfortunately, the bird appeared unsure of how to fulfill my request. Knowing this, I gestured to Posey, bowing towards the bird. The earth pony nodded in response, walking to it with an easy smile.
"Hello, Mister Thunderbird," she hummed as she got close. "Maybe I can help you out. See, this thing you're perched on is really tired. So tired, it can't wake up. Do you think you could give it a little jolt? Not too much—just enough to get it going again."
The bird's head righted swiftly, expressing its understanding with a triumphant trill. It fanned its wings proudly, pulling away the loose static of the room into its feathers as they ruffled. In an instant, a bright flash and thunderous boom filled our space, accompanied by the slow whirring and whizzing of once-deceased machinery winding back to life once more. By the time our vision was returned, our eyes were blessed with the raptor's magnificent radiance, its plumage now gorgeously gleaming as the monitor beneath it flickered back on. Lost for words, we could only express our amazement with hums of amazement and delight.
"Looks like that did the trick!" Posey chirped, clopping her hooves together giddily as she stepped away. "Hopefully, what you're looking for is still on there."
"Unless this machine had a surge protector installed, the chance of recovery is low," Juno's replied, head swiveling to make eye contact. "If it was not active during that time, however, then that chance is significantly higher."
Spike cracked his knuckles as he approached the keyboard. "Looks like we're up and running, so here's hoping."
A flurry of mechanical clicks littered the air as he and Posey accessed the computer. Posey helped guide him through the tree of folders and file paths. I peeked over the dragon's shoulder, taking in as much of the black-green outputs as I could, trying to fix myself on any word or phrase that sounded of importance to us. After a few minutes of careful scanning, we came across two particularly intriguing files.
Alongside the familiar ".BAT" file from our previous excursions, a new type of file had been included in this machine:
"Deathblossom.wmv."
The name commanded immediate attention. It was a name that struck a cord with me in its brevity, and held a weight that begged investigation.
"Posey," I asked, pointing at the text. "Do you have an idea as to what this is?"
"It's a video file," she chirped quickly. "I'm wasn't supposed to open it until one of you made it here."
"So that means you've been waiting on us," I reasoned. "Any idea who left it? Who it might of been for?"
"Guess we'll know in a moment," Spike growled as he typed the command out.
To our surprise, the file wasn't under any protection. The instant he confirmed the activation command, the screen blanked out. Within seconds, a timestamp of 0200 flashed in the bottom left. Front and center was a sharp-faced man. He was lit up by a bonfire near him, showing off a ragged black mop of a mane and a freshly-grown stubble. Perhaps most telling, however, were the nearly all-consuming shadows around his eyes and the thin streaks of blood coming down from his brow. His breath was slow and wet as he rested on one knee, leaning against a sheathed sword.
"Shepherd's Report. Two Hundred Hours, Day One o' Eight of Shadowfall. Captain Alexis rep—"
Suddenly, he snapped to one of his companions, just a leg away from being out of frame.
"Is there any damn point in this anymore?" he shouted, his voice strained considerably. "Not like anyone's gonna be watching this in a couple hundred years or however long it takes."
The video remained silent for a moment as Alexis hacked some red liquid from his mouth.
"I'll just be blunt—it's looking pretty grim here," he grumbled, wiping his face. "While most of the important people are safe on the island thanks to the exodus, we haven't made any kind of dent in the number of these bastards. The weaker ones, sure, but now that they have some of ours in their stock, it's getting a lot harder to beat them back."
The voice rang eerily familiar to me. It bore the same timbre and weight as the one that had been recorded in Applejack's temple. It might have been that this recording followed the earlier one, and the voice I had heard belonged to my late father. In considering that, my chest grew heavy.
"No longer can we rely on the sanity, rationality, or even the decency of those whom we once called our fellow man, he sighed, standing up now as he clutched his sheath in one hand. "So now, while I wait out this long, terrible night, I may as well give a few last words.
"I never honestly expected our time here to end like this. I thought when we came here, we might be able to get away from all the heartache and pain the old world left us. Maybe we'd finally find some kind of peace in this fairytale kingdom. For a while, I guess we sort of did. Back before all this happened, all this stuff seemed so much easier. Sure, we weren't armed to the teeth, but we didn't need to be; Why would you when magic was able to fight the threats that steel and fire couldn't?
"Maybe this was just some god's idea of karma; maybe we got too close to the sun and they wanted us to get a taste of the most bitter medicine they had."
He fished something from underneath his shirt, pulling out a locket that folded out.
"If by some miracle you're watching this, Meg, I want you to know that I love you," he sighed, peering down at the trinket. "I only stayed behind because I wanted to make sure you and the others didn't end up making that trip in vain. If things had been better, maybe I could have gone with you. Sad to say, I think it's too little too late."
Alexis went grimly silent after that, leaving the locket open. Maybe he wanted to shed a tear into it as some kind of final farewell to the woman he held most dear. Then, after a few short, shaky breaths, he snatched it shut, swinging his blade free.
"I really wish I could have stayed for his sake," he growled, eyes now dimly alight with passion. "But what kind of man would I be if I couldn't secure a future for my son?
One last time, he faced the camera, kneeling down.
"If he learns anything important, Meg, let it be these two truths," he said, raising his fingers for emphasis. "First, make sure that he knows everything that happened here. And second? Let him know that in the earth of this beautiful kingdom lies the blood, sweat, and tears of the man who stood to the last to make sure he could live to see it."
With a guttural roar, he slapped an arm around his friend, raising his blade proudly.
"You bastards want a fight?!" he shouted, proud and defiant. "Then come and get it! I'll be waitin' for ya! If I'm going out like this, it'll be a top a mountain of you godforsaken fiends!"
The video cut out after that, leaving us with a blank screen.
I was left at a loss. This was my father, in his final hours, making some sort of last stand in the middle of the night and saying what few farewells he could. He was bloodied, tired, and genuinely seemed shaken by his days. Yet, even in such harsh times, he did not wish for a quiet death. Even in his most desperate of moments, he still found the strength to go down fighting. In seeing this, I felt ever more resolute to moving forward, knowing now more than ever that I had to see this to the end.
"So that was him," I said, clenching my fist. "That was my father, wishing us goodbye."
Megan held my shoulder. "Just like I said; scrappy to the end. At least you got to see him this time."
"So what happens now?" Spike wondered, shrugging his shoulders.
"What else?" I quipped back, turning to Juno. "We go forward. Grab the file and let's get moving."
Juno nodded, plugging herself in. "Downloading 'BR.bat."
Within minutes, we were topside again, the sun nearing nearing dusk as we stepped out. The air had grown more humid, and the lot of us were grateful to be back in fresh air. Posey had joined us on the way out, reeling at the sunlight as she stepped out, but otherwise unharmed.
"I'm so glad I was able to help you, Lance," she sighed, taking a rather deep breath for possibly the first time in years. "Is there anything else I could do?"
"You wouldn't happen to know where the last of your friends is?" Roughshod grumbled.
Posey shook her head. "I'm sorry. With the computer being down for so long, I might not be able to find it in time."
"Don't sweat it," Kenta huffed. "WIth our luck, we'll bump into her soon."
"Which reminds me," I realized as we made our way up the gangplank. "Where are we going now?"
"Looks like we're near Neighpon," Spike said back, checking the map. "Shouldn't be too rough."
"Then we should press on," I insisted, clenching my fist proudly. "We can't let this momentum go to waste."
Megan smiled as she looked up to us, waving farewell.
"I'm glad to see you've got a bit of your father's spirit in you!" she called. "Let's hope it stays for our next bout!"
"I guarantee it," I beamed, pumping my arm. "The next time we see each other, I'm not holding back a single blow."
"Such confidence!" Megan cried with false-shock "How will I ever be able to contend with such a furious foe?"
With that, the lot of us shared a long laugh as the ship ascended into the vast sky. In spite the grim prospects that may have laid ahead, I pursued what may have been the last of my destinations with a passion I'd not felt since my earliest days. I was dead-set on seeing it through, now more than ever.
Little had I known just how much more morbid my journey would soon become...
Stats
Page generated in 0.025 seconds
Total duration
902 users online
651,493 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
8521425
Look through my comments a bit more, you'll see the reference.
Just being scientific and realistic here, but aren't potatoes dangerous for horses/ponies to eat, regardless whether they cooked or not? I know this doesn't apply to fiction since this story is from someone's imagination, but again, I'm just looking at this realistically.
8555299
I don't legitimately know.
8555432
I looked it up on Google, and it turns out they are poisonous to horses, though it's not the same as ragwort, whatever that is.