> The Magic of Old Earth > by Dress72 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Creation > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Resurget vetus magicis terra, surge. Sex enim animarum, oblatio ultra vitam sunt. in tempus frigore in profundum noctem, tenebris et proferre in ineluctabilis in. Oratio mea, redde novam vitam, da numen. Resurget vetus magicis terra, surge. Et facere novum luna Magistri!” *The earth shall rise again the old magic, arise. For in six of souls, are beyond the life of the offering. Into the depths of the cold for the time of night, in the darkness, and to produce them in the inescapable. My prayer shall be, give back to a new life, give power to. The earth shall rise again the old magic, arise. And make a new moon Master!* The dimly-lit forest around the chanter was thick, barren, dead. The only light was generated from the faint blue glow of the pentagram surrounding the one speaking, light from everything around him flowing into the five pointed diagram. Even the light of the moon and stars were gone from the sky, despite the full blood moon that was supposed to be hanging within the now void heavens. Looking out, nothing could be seen; looking in, only the occasional flash lit the side of the trees that was the furthest from the spell. As the pentagram pulsed, it grew larger and began to engulf the five beings whose blood it was made from. A deep hum was emanating in time with the pulse. A thick leather bound book, old as the Earth , suspended itself in the center. With each pulse, a page turned silently and heavily, for each turn carried the weight of thousands of years. Soon the pentagram covered the entire clearing and the 6,000 paged book struck its last page. The chanter, dressed in pitch black robes, pulled back his hood revealing a weathered old face, scarred with thousands of failed summoning attempts, duels, and spells. He was a being, for he was no longer a single distinct race. A hundred self-experiments had changed most of his once pure pony form to that of something to be unknown in Equestria ever again. “nunc insurgite, partum a novum domino! illa vitam, hoc novum corpus lunae in se vim et signa MINUSCULUS!” *Rise to the now, creating a new master! That life, this new body of the pony and the signs in themselves the working of the moon!* The pentagram glowed once more when the chanter’s old voice sounded, releasing all the light held within it upwards. The night returned, the blood moon once again visible and all the stars were in their correct placements. The clearing that once held onto the spell caster and five dead bodies was empty, only revealed after the light slowly descended back down into the area. Silence permeated through the dead forest. The book hovered within the quickly fading red light that had surged brightly before disappearing to meet its current master. ___ A rift opened up beneath the caster as his spell circle released the light it collected. He fell through and was wrapped in the hole as it closed, trapped within the earth. Death didn’t come as he suspected from the apparently failed spell. Instead he was frozen within the ground he had once casted on. He contemplated what he could have done wrong within the spell. Anything could have changed the outcome: the wrong blood type of the victims, the impartial bloodline of them if they were not pure as he had tested it to be, although he lived in the age where the equine races still didn’t mix and mingle, the timing of the spell might have been off so that it didn’t complete at the exact pinnacle of the moon. He thought of this and all other possible things that could have gone wrong. He waited, death refusing to come and nothing left to think about, he fell asleep, dreaming of his past, flowing through his memories at will. He was cold. Shuddering, he lifted his head and observed his surroundings like he had hundreds, no, thousands of times before, only to sigh as everything was the exact same as it had always been for the past several years. A small cave just deep enough to keep the snow off him when the winter came, decorated with only a single, small pot and a blanket, which had fallen off him as he slept, allowing the thin layer of snow that covered the ground to chill his weary body. He sighed again, shaking the snow that had collected on his pelt off, revealing light blue. Taking the blanket, he covered the hole of the cave and used his dark blue magic to clear the cave of snow. The cave warmed as the thin blanket, layered with the two protective spells known, trapped what little heat he still produced. He remembered why he was in this situation. As any other unicorn lived comfortable life, he had it poorly because his mother had slept with a pegasus. Her pregnancy caused an uproar within the three tribes and she was forced to abandon him to save herself and stay comfortable, despite being shunned. He had been a pariah since birth and somehow miraculously survived his innocent foalhood.. Saddened by his situation, he left the cave to scavenge. It had been getting harder and harder to get food as the forest around him died from the cold, forcing him further and further from the safety of the cave. All but the center of the forest had been slowly dying each winter. The center had a large clearing within it, large enough to build at least seven multi-room cabins. Stepping into the clearing, he found the area oddly silent. Usually there was at least the chatter of chipmunks, the far off whistle of birds, or even the scraping of branches against each other within the wind. Throughout his walk to this point, he had been hearing those noises. Proceeding with extreme caution, he started to sneak around the edge, feeling safer close to the fading forest. Finding nothing edible, he continued further in until he was forced to the center where a two foot tall book, that was about three feet wide and five feet long, lay. A seven foot radius around the book was completely barren of the thin layer snow that surrounded everything, and contained all the riches that could be found foraging. Despite every part of his being telling him to leave now, he studied the book: The Magics of Old Earth: Power, Skill, Knowledge, Control, Shape, Summon, Life. With the reading of the name, the book disappeared, leaving behind no traces of its existence; not even the food filled snowless circle was to be seen. The bird songs could be heard once more, the chipmunks were seen scampering around and burying nuts, while a familiar wind once again blew in the clearing. Digging around once more for the food he might have missed, he found it most everywhere he scavenged. The caster awoke from his slumber due to a shaking around him. Being underground for over 2000 years, he was unprepared for the blast of light he received when the ground opened up and spat him out with the same pentagram he created so long ago. Momentarily blind, he focused what little energy he had into standing. As his vision cleared, he looked around at the completely unfamiliar landscape that had grown up around him. He was surrounded by what looked to be an old stone castle, worn down, overgrown, and broken. The sheer size was unlike anything he had seen before. The thing that truly caught his attention, however, was that the area was dresses in a red light, which attributed to a blood moon, and the fact that the five races he had killed in order to cast his spell, were standing before him, alive, and facing him. He prepared himself for a possible battle with the five pureblood races, only to be thrown off when they bowed to him. It was slightly rational that they would bow to him, as he had had them under a control spell when he sacrificed them, although he had previously figured that their deaths would have broken the spell. “Rise,” he proclaimed, a new youthfulness evident within his voice. The five, an earth pony, a unicorn, a pegasus, a gryphon, and a zebra, all arose at the command. The chanter continued, “"Appear, old book." The book appeared before the pony, traveling through time to reclaim its master. It opened, following its orders before they were spoken. Two things were shown to this pony; the first was a picture of two beings unknown to him. Upon examination, the picture was of two pony-like creatures with both wings and a horn, one near black the other white, but both circling the moon and sun within a yin-yang pattern. The second was a mirror, reflecting the unscarred, unblemished, firm face that the chanter had when he was young; before he had found the book. The other thing he noted from the mirror was that his robes were gone, but accounted it to decay from being trapped underground. He was astonished, however, by what the first sign showed him. Never had he suspect the spell had succeeded, but it had done so with consequences beyond what he could have dreamed. He had figured that, even if the spell worked, the most that it would do was give him control over the moon, but trap him forever, constantly draining him and wearing him until he no longer could sustain it. It defied him and created two entirely new beings of one race, giving them the ability to control the moon and the sun. Within the confusion felt by the pony, something flew between him and the moon, causing a shadow to slither over the landscape and the pony. Growing up in times of hatred, he once again prepared for battle, shouting, “Who's there; show yourself!” His horn lit as he cast fire protection and water protection on himself, while chanting a couple of spells into one, "Vitis ignis de cælo, inducere iracundiam ad mare. Hostem, in parochia ignis aquam, morietur." *The vine is fire from heaven, to bring wrath upon the sea. Enemy, in the parish of water, of fire, he will die.* A surge of white, foaming water, held in place behind a web of flame, materialized behind the pony, leaving a well-lit area to form as the fire raged in place. As the chanter was about to release the spell, a tall, slender pony stepped out before him. This pony was near black, but more bluish than black, and had both horn and wings. Being recognized as one of the two from the picture shown to him, the caster released his spells, allowing the white water to rush forward while getting coated in flame. If this was truly a creation of his, it would be able to survive this, and even counter. His surprises knew no bounds this day as the being not only resisted the water and flame, but dispersed, levitated, and finally blinked them out. The being didn’t counter attack, however, but rather stared at him, longing evident within its eyes. “How long I have waited for you to come. I grew mad waiting, hoping that you appear. But you remained hidden. My sister knew more of you than I, and her stubbornness in refusing to inform me contributed to my lost mind. In my madness, I found a book that told me of you, and how you would appear during a night red as blood, and so I strived to create a night that would bear that color. Finally on the day of my return, I have done it.” Tears had formed in the new pony’s eyes as she talked and slowly made her way, step by step, to the one she so longed to meet. She was only a foot away from the caster when she stopped. The caster saw the longing within her face, and somehow felt unease. He had seen many faces full of longing: some for life, others power, and some even for pleasure. But for some reason, he recoiled inwardly from the longing displayed on this face. It was joy- something he had never honestly encountered before. Unable to cope with this new feeling that was starting to rise up within him, he did the only thing that he could think of. “I’m sorry,” he whispered before casting one of the many spells from the book, “evanesces.” The caster and his five followers vanished from sight. Running from the dark cerulean pony, the caster heard her call out, “Father!” > Meeting the Creator > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He stopped running when he came across a downed bridge. Any sequence of pony spells he knew would not account for being able to move the bridge into place, and he couldn’t use earthen magic as he was focusing on his stealth spell. He stood there, contemplating why he had run. Never before had he run from a foe, not even when they were more powerful then him. So why had he run: Was he afraid? …but of what? Had he grown weak and pitiful in the thousand plus years he was trapped? No, he refused to believe that, despite the lingering doubt that hung within him. He assured himself he wouldn’t run next time he faced his creation. With this resolve came a slap from reality: how to get over the bridge. He turned to the group he had under his control. The pegasus and gryphon together might be able to lift the bridge, but it would take some time. Thankfully, a cyan pegasus flew across the gap, adding a third winged pony to the group. He was about to release his stealth spell to attempt to control the cyan pegasus, when three more pegasi-like beings flew down. Upon contact with the said pegasus, the three started talking to it, trying to persuade it to join them, and in consequence, not raise the bridge. Looking past four pegasi, the caster saw a group of five, representing three of the five equine races he knew. The cyan pegasus drew his attention as it took itself away from the group of three, and, by itself, lifted the bridge and tied it off. He took a liking to this pony, mystified at its strength. He caught the three ponies dissolve and turn into a shadow that slinked into the castle. Curious as to how his presence would affect the group that the earlier pegasus returned to, and despite the risk of meeting the dark cerulean pony so soon, he dropped his Earth spell, and, when the group approached, wandered out, leaving his followers behind. He made sure to not face them directly as he wandered out, allowing them to make first contact. “Excuse me, may I ask why you’re here?” He turned to the group that had instantly put up their guard and felt elated by their defense. However, he kept this to himself as he answered simply, “I’m exploring my new surroundings. I woke up here not to long ago and I'm not sure where I am, but I’ve never seen something like this before." He gestured to the surrounding ruins to emphasize his statement. He noted that the purple unicorn was the one who spoke first and continued to speak, “It’s dangerous -- there’s a very powerful and evil pony around here.” “Is there now… Mind if I stay with your group then? I’m kind of by myself and not sure where to go.” He found that the group accepted him almost instantly after his first declaration, despite their initial suspicions, and, with several different versions of ‘Okay’, the caster joined the group. They walked further into the decaying castle, following the path that the shadow had taken earlier. Trying, but failing, to stay near the back of the group, he felt unease as they insisted they walk with him. It didn’t take long for him to recognize that the six ponies were all female. The purple pony, whom the caster took as the leader, introduced the group, “I am Twilight Sparkle, and this is Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash,” each pony gave their respective greetings before Twilight continued, “May we know your name?” “I have had many names throughout my life, to many to count or recall,” came the elusive answer of the caster. “Then tell us your original name,” came a reply from Rainbow Dash. “My original name? Before others started naming me, I didn’t have a name. If you must, however, you can call me The Caster, one of my personal favorite names.” “You don’t have a name? That is so sad,” Pinkie Pie declared before Twilight took back over. “The Caster? Why are you called that?” “Is this the place?” the caster asked. They had approached a large gateway, over 30 feet in height, covered in a pattern-less web of vines, standing between them and their goal. The caster began to chant a spell before an answer was given, “Intus ardeat ad tempus virentia, ventus erit flamma ventilat aperuerit ianuam. * Time to burn within the green, the wind will be opening the door to fan the flame. *" A strong wind began to blow. The group watched in awe as the vegetation around them turned black and the door slowly creaked open. The vines snapped as the door inched forward, exposing a flame from within vines that quickly spread over the rest of the door. At the quarter opening of the door, the wind stopped, and the flames died instantly. The large, wooden door was completely barren of any of the previous clutter, not even a scorch mark could be found on it. The caster forced himself not to stumble as he walked into the room, leaving the other six to catch up. Instead of finding the pony whom he had fought earlier he found a room filled with vines, moss, and a strange ornament in the center with six orbs on it. He wondered as to what the room might have been used for, as it seemed older than the rest of the abandoned palace. He ignored the other six ponies who accompanied him, despite their attempts to try to get him to explain what just happened. He thought of something and raced back into the courtyard, once again ignoring the group. His suspicions where confirmed as he looked back at the castle, from the exact same spot that he had been raised from. As he spied upon the castle, a light emanated briefly from the door he had opened, then reappeared once again high up within one of the towers. He started chanting a spell that would accurately teleport him, and the five sacrifices, within the tower, while not give any signs that he was there. It took about four minutes to chant the spell. As he finished, he noted that the glorious blood moon had reverted to a regular moon. When he was transported into room, he found two new ponies, similar to the horned pegasus he had first met. One of the two was white and just as tall as the dark cerulean one he first met, the other more sapphire and slightly smaller. “I’m sorry sister, I just wanted to meet Father,” the sapphire pony admitted. The caster realized then that the cerulean pony and this pony where the same. “I know, sister, but Mortem the Caster is an evil pony. He controlled, raped, and killed thousands throughout the world before he disappeared,” It was the white pony who spoke this time. “Wait, Princess Celestia, Mortem the Caster? We met a young, light blue pony who called himself The Caster. Is it possible it was the same pony?” Twilight directed the question at the pony who knew the caster’s favorite name. The white pony, whom Mortem now knew as Celestia, widened her eyes in terror, “He is back?! Twilight, take your friends back to Ponyville at once. No, stay here, I need to make sure he didn’t cast anything upon any of you. I will need to alert the guard to look for him. While he is here, nopony is safe.” “Celestia, I’m so disappointed,” Mortem called out from the shadows, his voice resonating through the room, “My own creation doesn’t like me. Well, that’s understandable. Since you know only about my actions, it only makes sense that you don’t trust me.” “Mortem, you will pay for your crimes,” Celestia declared. The ponies in the room moved away, clearing an area subconsciously for the imminent duel. “Oh, so you can punish those whom were before your time? Try if you can,” Mortem retorted, horn alight to cast the same spells he had when he faced the cerulean pony upon awakening. He once again chanted his fire-water spell. Instead of initially restricting it, he let it flow; an apparent wall of flame flowed up from the stair case, washing over the caster and every other pony within the room, covering them in water with submerged tendrils of flame lashing about. Thanks to his spell, Mortem was unaffected by the suffocating waters and the fire as it whipped at anything within the water. To his amazement, he saw the group covered over in a protective barrier much like the one from his book. He also saw Celestia in a pocket of air, no barrier around her, and no flame getting to her. He could think of only one spell that could produce such a result, and this opponent seemed to be using it with pony magic. “I will not be beaten,” Mortem shouted. Seeing Celestia cast several throw spells at him, he jumped to avoid them, landing on one of the tendrils, which responded to his conscious command, and ran towards Celestia as the tendril wrapped around him. Casting another spell as he let free the water and fire, he chanted the two words ‘celeritatem linguae,’ or ‘the speed of the tongue,’ before chanting a 70,000 word spell in under six seconds. His long spell complete, a large, rune circle appeared behind Celestia, and a demonic hand appeared, shattering the room before it was fully pulled between realms. Water and flame quickly cascaded over the rubble as the hand was retrieved and an arm proceeded it, tripling the tower’s height with the forearm alone. Celestia did two things as the forearm passed and the elbow started to emerge. First thing was she teleported the seven spectators of this battle, away. The second was that she called on the sun and cause a ray of light bounced off the moon that came down to engulf the arm completely. “You shouldn’t get distracted Celestia!” Mortem shouted, now only a few feet from her. Celestia turned just in time to get hit in the right temple with a flame covered hoof. The flame started to uncoil from the owner and wrapped itself around Celestia’s muzzle and neck, scorching the pony, and leaving a trail of flame that connected the two battlers. The light from the blast started to fade as the onslaught of the arm stopped. Celestia somehow managed to break away from the caster but was slightly dismayed that the only thing one of her more powerful spells could do was stop the demon from being summoned further. The arm swung down and grabbed the pony who shot it. “I’m surprised. Nopony has ever been able to stop one of my summons before. But it wasn't enough; you are already mine,” came the taunt from the caster. Light started to fade and upon inspection, the moon was waning until it reached a tiny sliver. For just a moment, it completely disappeared before a single flash, only 20 feet above Mortem, shone. The caster jumped back as a scythe's head came down at tremendous speeds, nearly slicing him in two. “Father, you seem to acknowledge my sister yet you completely ignore me. Face me and see me as you her." > Mortem’s Memory (re-paced) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mortem forced a smile through the slight discomfort he still felt from earlier, “Fine - your sister couldn’t beat me and soon I will make her mine completely. Try not to disappoint me,” the caster taunted. The scythe head seemed to dislodge itself from the ground and soar the several meters to where the dark pony was standing, just to lock its arm-length handle with that of a twin scythe; another flash of light was seen circling this pony as they connected. Moments later, a similar flash appeared around the demon’s arm, imitating the original. Time disconnected itself from reality during the tense moment before half the arm was displaced several visible meters into the air, cut in the opposite direction that the flash indicated. The suspended half crashed onto the other, causing a tremor as it slid slowly at first, the demon spending copious amounts of energy to try to keep the arm together. Unable to heal quickly enough, the arm finally fell with a charcoal smoke indicating its de-materialization back to the dimension it came from. Many armor-clad ponies emerged from the forest as if on cue to surround the now free princess. They worked to dissolve the flame that bound her, yet the methods they tried only served to strengthen the flame’s hold. Too weak to stand, the same pony could only rest on the ground, unable to form any commands due to the restrictions of the flame. The rest of the ponies, ranging from earthen, to unicorn, to pegasus, to a bat-winged pony - which the caster had never seen before - all gathered around the other princess and her opponent. “Now this ought to be fun,” Mortem responded to the ambush, “Transmittere scientiam meam, *Transmit my knowledge,*” and copied most of his battle and protection spells into the minds of his five followers. “Now fight,” he commanded. The small group attacked the mob in a frightful display of power and coordination, keeping the newcomers off their master with ease while Mortem and his moon gifted creation stared silently at each other. It was the pony with the scythe that attacked first, closing the distance instantaneously. The caster was forced back by the sheer speed of the attack, barely able to keep up, and ended up hitting a frail wall that crumbled from the impact. Another push forced the caster to balance upon the uneven stone, exposing his vitals to an easy pierce. To Mortem’s surprise, his opponent had leapt back instead of taking advantage of his exposure, causing a wicked thought to flash through his mind as it stole his next move, causing him to tumble away from the broken tower. “Father!” Mortem heard his creation cry as she jumped off the tower, throwing her twin bladed scythe into the surrounding melee to catch him. “You need to be less predictable my lovely creation.” Mortem easily worked free from the caring grip he was in and flipped onto his ‘captor’s’ back. Forcing the pony’s wings shut, he forgot his previous discomfort by this pony as he drove her into the ground, jumping off moments before impact. An eerie silence seemed to permeate throughout the battlefield, emphasized by the panting of the pony laying on the ground before the caster, several broken bones protruding from her skin. “Sana adversarium, ubi ponat omnia, hoc est de jure suo. *Heal the adversary, where she may lay all, that is her right.* Face me again when you have grown. You have great potential, but you need to throw away your doubt and hesitation. Only then will you be able to honestly face me. I won’t give you another chance after this,” Mortem proclaimed as he walked away. Hovering over Celestia, he turned to his creation that was forcing itself up, “Now tell me your name.” “Luna, father, my name is Luna.” “Luna, moon. Your name within itself carries great power; more than the fake name your sister chose for herself. I will remember it.” “You know my sister doesn’t use her true name?” “Of course. Celestia is a foolish, power hungry name. It was quite obvious that her name is fake, considering your name, her power, and her origin. Now if you will excuse me, Ianuae Magicae Vestibulum me et ex me. Trahere Sol. Nunc autem adducite mihi domum ad meam nostalgia. * It's a teleport me and from me. Pull the sun. But now bring me a house to my nostalgia.*” The caster disappeared from the battle along with Celestia and the five ponies he controlled. The amount of energy that the caster used throughout the last hour alone exhausted him, and he felt this as the seven ponies appeared before a cave, high atop a mountain. Looking at this cave, he sighed, homesick and longing emanating from him for the first time in his life. This was not the shallow, small cave he remembered from his colthood, yet this large, expansive cave, atop this ridiculously tall mountain was the same one. He forced himself to accept his new world, and walked in, the five purebloods that dragged the fallen goddess by a flame rope followed. He went directly for the back of the cave, where he curled up and dismissed his soul bound ponies, leaving him to face Celestia. “Imperium Sol, flectere animum cogere voluntatem ad id proderit mihi, et irritum facerent. Instaurarent fracta voluntatem dirigit, ut videamus et turpis. * Empire of the Sun, to bend their minds to that force the will it profit me, and I should make void. Repair broken the will directs me to see the film.*” With the spell woven, Celestia started to contort, struggling to remain herself and keep dominance over her mind. *** The sun finally rose back into the sky and Celestia walked out of the cave in a trance, nothing showing from her past battles as she took flight to go about her daily routine. The caster was in the back of his cave, laid down, nearly depleted of all energy, and ready to sleep and recover. Yet sleep eluded him; memories that had been dragged up when battling over Celestia’s mind clung to his. He longed for his old life: the shallow cave, the thin blanket, the dying forest. But all of that was beyond him now. The best he could do was cast a spatial spell that projected his remembered cave around him, and rummage through the memories that haunted him. 'The ground was covered in snow around two feet deep. The pegasi made sure that the conditions this year was cold and that the ground was frozen, just like they did every year. He wished that the three tribes would learn to respect each other, and get along. He wished that with that, came acceptance. He thought that somehow, someway, they would just get along. But he also knew that it was a hopeless wish. And so he kept foraging through the deep snow for something remotely edible. He was struck by the image of that book that had appeared to him three months ago. He thought of it often since then. That day he had found the most sustenance he ever had before, and ended up filling his small pot and was forced to use his blanket as a container as well. That expedition had held him over and this was the first scavenge since then. Now, along the edge of the forest’s center, he stood, hoping that as he ventured further, he would come across the book - associating it with plentiful food. Several minutes passed before he dared move. Entering the clearing, there was no change of environment as he made his way to midst. Slightly disappointed, he resumed his digging through the snow, placing the few things he found into the pot he carried with him. He made his way back to his cave, only a few measly scraps of food within his container. Arriving at his home, he found that his blanket was misplaced at the entrance, hanging by a single corner. Because of the deep snow, it was difficult to see inside, so he snuck up the best he could. He was startled by what he found inside; a pegasus with a volcanic ash colored coat, sleeping to one side of the cave, and a large, leather-bound book. He was about to touch the book when an image flashed before him, followed by a warning that echoed within his mind, ‘Don’t open the book.’ He hesitated just long enough for the ash colored pony to stir and look up at him. The acute blue eyes of this pony held immeasurable knowledge, but also a deep sorrow seemed trapped there as well. He stared into the eyes of this somehow familiar newcomer. He felt as if he knew who it was, but he wrote it off. He once again looked at the book and was struck by a sudden urge. Reaching out, he found the book to be extremely light as he lifted the cover to reveal a blank page. Movement within his peripheral vision caught his attention. The ash colored pony stood up, and walked past him out of the cave, taking three more steps before it started to evaporate and disappear into runic letters at the forest’s edge.’ Mortem opened his eyes. What he just remembered confounded him. Each time he went over that memory, he had just seen the book. So why now did a gray pony accompany it? Was it because of his mental battle with Celestia? He stood up and walked away from the back wall before casting a spell that engulfed the area. He watched as his memory replayed before him. He saw himself walking up to the cave, blanket asunder. He saw the book laying within the cave. What he did not see, was the gray pony. His spells rarely ever went astray at his level, so he trusted it. And yet, somehow he mistrusted the result; he felt uneasy at the prospect and implications that arose thanks to the abnormality. A sense of loss now haunted his being as he tried to write it off. With nothing to do but try and ignore the memory, he decided to explore the land that he now found himself in. It was then that he left the cave and walked through the mountain’s slopes, memorizing the scriptures and locations of hidden spells long since carved and hidden in the rock. It revealed the time since his absence and he explored the possible outcomes and meanings behind that which he didn’t do. Hours passed before he made the lower regions of the colossal rock-face. With the time that had passed, he witnessed several activations of distortion spells as he activated and disarmed them. And yet, as he continually surveyed the skyscape of the giant castle that lay in the distance, he made out a flying speck that shifted with the patterns of the air currents as it grew ever closer. His trained eye found an army advancing through the trees in accordance with the air unit. With time shortening, he decided to abandon his current location in a new form. The unease he felt disappeared as he took on the form of the ashen pegasus. Ground in with the idea, his companions shaped themselves similarly, their fur doing much to distinguish themselves. With their disguises ready, they departed from the mountain, away from the approaching army. > Suspicion > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It didn’t take long before The Caster felt it safe to take flight from the surrounding forest, the feel of the air rushing through his feathers made him feel ecstatic after being trapped for eons. He closed his eyes as he let an updraft take him well above the cloud-line. He cleared his mind as he flew in total serenity and became aware of the skyscape around him through the varying wind pressures caused by the solid clouds around. He reopened his eyes when he felt a massive shift in the air currents, and witnessed a large palace-like cloud. He decided to make a stop here and explore enormous open structure. As he approached it, its actual size magnified to that of a city and he marveled at the expanse that the pegasi lived in. He turned to his followers and singled out the former gryphon, now in a tan and brown pegasus form. He gave instructions for him to lead the other four through the city. Mortem separated from the group at this point, curious as to the extent for which this structure extended. Upon landing in the city, he came across a posy of blue and yellow clothed pegasi and, upon inquiring, received an incredulous reply that they were called the Wonderbolts. “And who are the Wonderbolts?” he inquired further. “They’re the best flyers, the best known pegasi, and symbol of flight in Equestria. It’s rare for them to make an appearance like this in Cloudsdale, or any other town or city for that matter. Some of them have homes here and shop, but never in uniform; that’s usually reserved for their shows or training at their academy. They must be looking for recruits,” the pony he asked replied confidently before he flew to catch up to them. Curious, Mortem flew further down the road to catch a better glimpse of them. As they approached the spot in which he had chosen to wait, he caught a piece of their hushed conversation, “Have you spotted anyone yet? Remember, if you spot anyone who is acting strangely, don’t hesitate to pull them out. You know what to do from there, don’t you?” the captain (indicated by the lack of a full-body suit) reminded her group. “Yes, Spitfire; if they run, have back-up pursue; if they don’t, ask their name and aspirations, then send them off for back-up to pick up,” the two with Spitfire replied consecutively. It was this moment that Spitfire caught Mortem’s eyes – just before he was swept from her vision as the crowd overtook him. She froze as she realized who the pony she spotted was. With her composure faltering for a mere fractional second, she spun to her companions. “We’re done here; I saw him,” she proclaimed in a rushed whisper. Her companions were shocked by her surety, but knew better than argue with her instincts, so they took flight away from the growing crowd to leave The Caster to the pick-up. A single thought continued to haunt Spitfire as they flew away, ‘I found you; I finally found you!’ *** Mortem submerged into the swarm of pegasi just as he made eye contact with Spitfire. It wasn’t long before he spotted the trio take flight and leave him behind. He knew that they couldn’t go for him directly - despite her obviously figuring him out so quickly – so as the crowd dissipated, he ducked into an ally. Upon examination, he discerned the existence of irregularities in the cloud among the scattered debris. As he inspected the irregularities, he found that they were all part of a door hidden by years of pileup. He double checked that he wasn’t being watched, before he pried the door open with a single word. A gale of stale air scrambled its way out through the new exit, accompanied by a cloud of dust and the stench of decay. Peering in revealed nothing through the dust and contrast of light, so he ventured down the cloud, the door closing behind him. Despite the encroaching darkness, the area stayed lit from the defusing of light caused by the clouds. Wandering further, brought him upon the entrance to a long forgotten maze as well as an ever growing potency of decay. He continued through the maze seemingly aimlessly, constantly following the ever permeating rancid air. At some point, the maze turned dark and the stench that The Caster was following faded with the light. In its place a semi-sweet metallic smell seeped into his mind. A thought pierced him and it shook him, ‘This is bad; I’m in danger; I need to escape.’ It was irrational, this thought, and he knew it. He knew that the shifting scent was most likely interlocked with a spell to deteriorate his resolve and mental health, yet this thought, this irrational fear, still captured him. The fear compelled him to run blindly until he regained his control before a large, black lake that stretched into the darkness. Here, he regained his composure. Now lost, he felt the necessity to use his depleting energy to leave the maze. “Duc me ad urbem est. *Lead me to the city.*” As the spell took hold of his surroundings, he blacked out. *** Startled as if woken by a bad dream, an ash grey pegasus found himself laying belly up in the tall grass of a meadow. A calm befell him, allowing his mind wander as he watched the drifting clouds saunter through the seemingly playful skies as other pegasi played high among them. As the insects and animals grew accustomed to his sudden presence, they grew bolder and approached the motionless pony. He was finally able to relinquish his repeating thoughts of the event when he rolled over. Reaching out, he put a hoof on the nearest critter’s head. “To what design called you here, and to what purpose draws you to me?” As if in response, the bunny he was petting nuzzled under him and reappeared seconds later with a crushed bundle of flowers. The gray pegasus rolled onto his back once more before closing his eyes, “Oh… sorry about that.” Upon becoming motionless once more, the other animals approached him in a weary fashion. Surrounded, he felt a shadow that scattered the animals cross over him, accompanied by a strong, criticizing voice, “Get up Caster, walk with me.” The shadow passed after the sentence. The pegasus stood, slightly confused, “Okay, but I’m Ashen Cloud, not Caster. Even if I’m an outcast, doesn’t mean that I don’t want my name.” The pony that called to him turned back and stared intensely at his eyes. The stare was broken first by Ashen Cloud. “Fine, Ashen Cloud, just follow me.” Ashen Cloud followed the pony obediently, observing the familiar light gold and orange pony as they walked in silence. “You know, I never thought I would meet you,” Spitfire broke in, “Not with this personality at least.” “What do you mean?” Ashen Cloud asked, “I was only asleep for a few hours. Granted I did have a weird dream that didn’t want to end, but it was just a dream.” “I see then... Just remember this when the spell wears off: fight with all your strength and you will undoubtedly change this world,” Spitfire’s confident words rang through as Ashen Cloud blanked out. *** The Caster awoke in the ally he had descended into the maze from, a small group of pegasi surrounding him. “Are you okay sir?” He sat up, a dull head ache reminding him of the maze; a quick inspection of the ground forced him to reconsider if it was real as there was no indication of a trapdoor within the clouds. “I’m fine, thank you,” he declared as he got up. One of the pegasi caught him when he stumbled near immediately on his first step. “Careful now, you blacked out and just collapsed not too long ago. We should get you to a place where you can rest.” The caster was lulled by the words thanks to his head ache and found himself being guided through the city, his mind starting to haze. In his hazed state he had the chance to observe the cloud and picked out several runes spread out on each street and house and each one he read drew him in further into this hazed reality. “Master!” one of the returning four followers called out, shaking him from his daze, causing him to stop dead and disturb the ones he was following, “Master, we have gathered what it is you requested.” “Alright then, let’s see what you found.” The quadruplet shared the information that they were able to uncover to which Mortem turned to his helpers and expressed his gratitude for their assistance. They accepted the thanks warmly before they split away. “I’m going to need to fix this place, but I can’t do it here,” he spoke to himself grimly as they left Cloudsdale at a south-east angle, a large castle buried within a mountain within his scope. > Arrival > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Caster felt the air pressure drop considerably in his attempt to reach the castle, forcing him to the ground. Whenever he got within distance, the space seemed to stretch away from him. In his journey he wandered and stopped upon a sentry, a red flare shot from his horn when the sentry spotted him. Shortly after, a group of soldiers appeared within a single flash. A white stallion dressed in heavy armor and with a commanding aura stepped forward, “And what do we have here?” “A small group of pegasi that were heading in the direction of the capital, Captain Shining Armor Sir,” the one who shot the flare declaired. “I see; so who might you five be?” Shining Armor asked. “Outside my family and followers, I’m referred to as Ashen Cloud. The black one with the white mane and tail, he is Brightened Night; the dark blue one with a silvery main and tail, she is Canyon Fall; the solid red one is Cooling Fire; and lastly, the orange one with a deep magenta mane, tail, and streak down her side is Tempered Forest. We are small group of skilled tradesponies who left our clan to find work since we have fallen on hard times as of late,” Ashen Cloud replied formally with his hoof mad small repetitive motions on the ground, the respective ponies stepping forward and back when called. “Might I ask where you are from and what skills you possess as tradesponies?” “Of course! We are part of a closed village that lies between a barren snow land and a wide plains far north of here. As for our roles within our village, Brightened Night is an excellent carpenter and has built most of the tools we use as well as our village head’s current house; Canyon Fall here is a cook with outstanding talent able to turn most anything into a delicacy; Cooling Fire is an innovative tailor; and Tempered Forest is our prized blacksmith. I am their overseer, negotiator, master, and…” “Master?” Shining interjected. “A trainer of sorts; I’ve taught them their basic skills, trained them, and helped perfect their art. I’m a prodigy within our village who has taken up each trade and skill we have and I’m currently looking at becoming the next head of our clan.” “Oh, then you wouldn’t mind showing me your skills then. I might even hire you right here,” Shining offered. “A show of skill is nothing. However, I must decline the job, at the moment as it is my task to see that we make it to the capital. Now, what skill would you like displayed?” Ashen offered. “For now, that can wait. If you won’t accept my job offer now, then a few of my men will escort you to the capital. If you are as skilled as you claim, then we will undoubtedly meet again.” A trio of two pegasi and a unicorn stepped forward before Shining Armor disappeared and the sentry continued his route. Alone with his three escorts, he halted the movement of his hoof, the rune he had been working on. Instantaneously, the pegasi and unicorn’s movements halted, suspending them. Passing the invisible line the sentry had walked, he felt a thin film give way and let him pass. The special area rushed at him, becoming denser than the thin area he had experienced earlier. Glancing at his escorts, he muttered to himself, “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.” Tossing a stone, he disrupted the circle that was causing the suspension of the trio. He let the trio follow him as he once again took to the air with his own companions. His path was reset due south, slightly off course as he eyed a pair of long metal tracks and the white cloud emanating along it. Upon inspection, the cloud raised from a set of large metal box that moved along the tracks. The speed with which it moved fascinated Ashen, and set up careful calculations. As his hooves touched the contraption, however, he was immediately sent rolling along its top, skidding to a stop by digging his hooves into it. “You know, there are easier ways of getting on a train,” Ashen’s guards said through a flashing light. “Yes, but this way is better training. Unfortunately, I didn’t calculate my landing quite correctly, and this is easier that flying non-stop.” Ashen put his head down and looked out at the passing forest and mountain. A small figure flew by his vision as the train over took it. With quick action, he stood up and discerned it as a lone pony proceeding weakly along before it disappeared around the mountain. When the train was visible to that spot again, the figure was gone. “Small figure, most likely a pony around five. Follow it,” Ashen ordered one of his companions in private. “We can’t let him leave,” the escorts stated, blocking Cooling Fire’s path. “And I do believe, you don’t get a say in the mater. Et auferte omnem curam belli Refrigerationem ignis. * And then put away all thoughts of Cooling of fire. *” Ashen cast. The three guards all froze as Cooling Fire flew off. Upon coming back to, the guards peacefully resumed watch and Ashen’s mind wandered around the figure he saw. He couldn’t be sure, but the fact that his follower complied with the request helped solidify his hypothesis about it. He played with the thoughts and possibilities play around as he continued to watch everything pass by. The figure flew from his mind as he felt himself pass through another dimensional barrier. He found it peculiar that a high-level incantation spell was not only set up and sustained in two different places and with two different intents, but the feel of them as he glided through them were identical. ‘Whatever or whoever had placed them must have considerable stamina and power,’ Ashen thought to himself, ‘And I know of two possible candidates for it.’