> Wings for Him > by Laughing Jack > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Door to a New World > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wings for Him By Laughing Jack Chapter 1: Door to a New World As he walked along the dark and foreboding street, Isaac looked around with mild apprehension. 'I hate having to go out on nights like this,' he thought nervously. 'It makes me think all those creepy online stories have a grain of truth.' He had just come from his friend David's house after giving him a bit of romantic advice. What caused him to leave, however, was that the person he was advising about showed up at David's house, saying something about needing his help checking her college essay over. Prudently deciding to give his friend some privacy (only after suggestively elbowing him in his ribs), he left the two alone for the night, opting to walk home rather than borrow his friend's bicycle. Looking up from the recent memory, he saw someone else walking toward him. As the stranger passed under a streetlamp, Isaac saw that the stranger was an old man. Even though the stranger was just a bit shorter than his own six-foot height, he felt as though the old man were dominating him in some way he couldn't see. All this he took in with a slight shiver: this practically had cheesy ghost story written all over it. As they got within a few feet of each other, Isaac chuckled to himself. It would have been really cheesy -- not to mention creepy -- if the stranger were going to- "It's going to happen soon. Best be ready." Isaac stopped, his blood freezing throughout his body as he heard those words whispered into his ear by the passing stranger. Gathering his nerve, he turned to ask just what would happen, but the stranger had disappeared. 'Okay, not creepy at all. All the same, it might be better for my sanity to get the fuck outta here,' he thought as he started walking quicker, eager to return to the safety of his home. It didn't take long with his near-frantic pace. Still moving quickly he opened the door and, after slamming it shut and locking the deadbolt, raced to get to his room. Rushing into his room, he slammed and locked that door shut and, reaching underneath his mattress, pulled out a small cloth bundle, which proved to be an assortment of knives. Grabbing the smaller knives he hooked them into his belt and around his body. Thus equipped, he went to his closet and grabbed his cane. Aside from being a good emergency bludgeon, he could pull on the knob at the top to reveal a slim sword, more resembling a rapier for its lack of a sharp edge. All the same, it served well to reassure the young man. Finally, he grabbed a decorative scroll tube off his nightstand. Originally a display item, he had gotten a friend to alter it to hold two daggers in it, the hilts protruding on either side. The hilts had also been altered to fit the rest of the tube better, the design of their grips now matching the once-purely decorative scroll tube. Thus arming himself, Isaac situated himself on his bed with his back against the wall, his cane leaning on his shoulder and his scroll tube in his lap, and began his vigil. 'I'm not letting some creepy old man get the best of me,' he thought. 'Mentally, physically, or super-creepy-naturally.' He was, however, still puzzled over what the man had said. '"It's going to happen soon," huh? Did he think I was in some kinda secret society with him?' The thought brought a chuckle to his lips. 'If I am, I guess it's the best kept secret.' Despite his nerves, Isaac found his eyes closing of their own violation. With his thoughts drifting as his day of work caught up with him, he succumbed to sleep. "... -there? Hello? Are you in there?" Isaac groaned as he recognized the voice of his house-mate Brandon. "Hey, I know you're awake in there. Let me in, I've got to ask you something." Moving from his spot against the wall, he got up and stiffly opened the door for his friend. At about five-foot-two, people sometimes had trouble taking the young man seriously, if only because it was easy to make Brandon laugh. "What is it Frodo?" Isaac asked, using the nickname he knew Brandon disliked, readily showing his displeasure at the rude awakening. Unfazed, Brandon pushed into the room. " 'The hell happened last night?" he asked. "I don't have a problem with you staying out late, but I'd hope you would at least have the decency to be quiet when you get back." Isaac covered his mouth to stifle a yawn, stretching his stiff shoulders as he did so. "Sorry 'bout that," he apologized sleepily. "Something weird happened on my way back." Brandon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just like that one time the other night-" "Hey, I know what I saw that night, and it wasn't 'just another stray dog,'" Isaac protested, cutting him off. "This," he shuddered, "felt too real." Under his house-mate's questioning gaze, Isaac explained what happened from a bit before he made a tactical retreat out of his recently-lucky friend's house, up to just before he had gotten home. Thinking for a minute, Brandon quietly asked him, "You know what I think?" Isaac shook his head, so he continued. "I think... that some old man is gonna wake up this morning, laughing about the joke he played on some young punk last night," he snickered. Isaac groaned, playfully punching him in his shoulder. "Seriously though? Don't worry too much about it," Brandon said reassuringly. "Lighten your load a bit, starting with all that metal. Even I'm starting to get nervous, what with all those knives on you." Laughing humorlessly, Isaac motioned him out and, closing the door, removed said knives from his person. As he did, he caught a whiff of himself and grimaced. He definitely needed a shower. Looking at his alarm clock, he figured he had at least an hour before he had to leave for his part-time job. Forty-five minutes later found him finished with his shower and breakfast. Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed his pocket knife and, as what he felt a justified precaution, stuffed the scroll tube in his bag with the rest of the stuff he needed for work. Thus equipped, he walked out to the threshold of his shared house and put on his shoes, now ready, if not willing, to face the day. Backpack slung over his shoulder, he reached for the knob, feeling a growing sense of apprehension. Opening the door, Isaac was greeted by the sight of what appeared to be an animated sort of screen, covering the door from the outside, full of swirling blues, reds, and a few other colors Isaac couldn't name, all churning around an invisible point he couldn't see. Frowning, Isaac muttered, "Well, this definitely takes the cake on elaborate pranks of the year." Raising a hand to push the material aside, he was alarmed to find his hand sink into the screen. Jerking his hand back, he stumbled away, flexing his hand to make sure it was still there. 'What the hell kind of prank is this?' he thought, looking first to his hand, then back at the screen. Edging closer, he reached into his pocket for his folding knife that he always kept on him, exposing its blade. When he had edged just close enough to reach out and touch it, he cautiously pushed his knife into the screen, marveling when he didn't feel any resistance. Pushing the knife in until his entire hand was enveloped; Isaac was amazed by the lack of resistance, even as he waved his knife around in the seemly-empty space beyond the screen. All at once he felt a pressure surround his hand and, upon looking down at his wrist, gaped in wonder as a tendril much like the screen itself circled around his forearm and pulled him closer. Panicking, Isaac tried pulling his arm back. Whatever was gripping his hand seemed to struggle holding him. In a moment though, his strength failed him, and he was pulled into the screen. As he passed through, he had the momentary impression of moving through some kind of liquid, which seemed to caress his body gently before disappearing. Still moving forward he stumbled, barely catching his balance before falling onto a paved road. Puzzled by the sudden change of scenery, he looked around. 'Okay, this is officially the weirdest thing I've had happen to me,' Isaac thought to himself. 'It even tops that shadow-wolf/dog-thing I encountered a few weeks ago.' As he gazed at his new destination, he couldn't help but to compare it to the pictures of medieval towns he had seen. 'Damn, almost looks like a dragon might come at any moment.' Amused by this errant thought and still looking around, he didn't notice the old man from the previous night walk up beside him. "It's a nice little town, isn't it Isaac?" he said, looking thoughtfully at him. Isaac felt himself all but jump at the sudden breaking of the silence. "W-who's talking to- Hey!" Isaac exclaimed, turning to the man. "You're that guy from last night! What the hell did you do to me?" "Do? I didn't 'do' anything to you. Not yet at any rate," the man chuckled wryly. "Let's just say that you are part of an experiment. On that subject, you might want to keep that knife of yours in your pocket," he said, gesturing to Isaac's hand, still holding his knife. Puzzled, Isaac cocked his head, thumbing his knife closed and replacing it in his pocket and asked, "Experiment? Why choose me though?" Narrowing his gaze, he continued, paying no mind to lights turning on in windows all around him. "And just what kind of experiment justifies dragging a person from his home, against his will might I add, to some Camelot imitation of a town?!" "For starters, it's called Canterlot over here," the man quipped. "For that matter, you aren't there either; we're currently in the peaceful town of Ponyville." "That doesn't answer my question." "No," the man smiled, "I suppose it doesn't. I know you'll be able to find out on your own, given time." Turning around, he playfully added, "Try not to cause too much trouble while I'm gone." With those words, the man opened a door that - amazingly enough - looked like it was embedded directly in the trunk of a tree. Snapping out of his confusion, Isaac lunged after the older man as he walked into what he realized was a portal. Pursuing the man through the portal, he was surprised to find himself now facing a rickety old bridge, beyond which was an ominously dark forest. Turning around, I saw that I was now standing before a set of doors which - presumably - led into what once must have been a magnificent castle. Hearing movement above him, Isaac spied the old man sitting on the stonework surrounding the door. "Ah, that's right!" the man exclaimed. "I almost forgot the most important part of the experiment!" Giving him a wrinkled smile, the man snapped his fingers. At once Isaac felt a stabbing pain shoot through him just below his stomach. Doubled over in pain, he could just make out the figure of the man wave before then falling backwards out of sight. Just as quickly as the pain arrived, it disappeared, leaving a slight throbbing in its wake. Left shivering in the wake of the pain, Isaac slowly straightened. Looking around, he re-examined his surroundings, his face betraying his puzzlement. 'Something isn't right. Everything feels... different,' he thought. Looking over to where the man had been, he gave a determined growl. 'Like hell I'll let him get away. He got me here, so he's definitely got a way to get back.' He made his way to the door, stumbling a bit before he gripped the handle and pushed the door open, its hinges shrieking in protest. Isaac winced, gritting his teeth at the noise. 'Damn my ears for being so sensitive,' he thought. Pushing the pain aside, he peered around the door, looking for the old man. He was gone. Twilight’s house: a few minutes ago Inside the treebrary, Twilight was seated on a cushion at her desk, staring sleepily at the half-finished report sitting before her. She had been trying to finish her paper regarding the myths surrounding the beings known as gods. Shown in the light of a candle was an open book. Twilight glared at the book, silently ordering it to give her the answers she was looking for. ‘Maybe it would be better to finish in the morning,’ she glumly thought, slumping in weary defeat. Getting up, she levitated the quill back into the inkwell and, setting them both aside, checked that the ink on the paper was dry before setting that aside as well. Looking aside at her nocturnal assistant, she asked him, "Owliscious, would you please finish cleaning up? Something tells me tomorrow is going to be a bit hectic, and I really need my sleep if I'm going to finish that report before anything happens." Hooting an affirmative, Owliscious flew over from his perch to land on the desk. Carefully biting down on the spine of the book, he flew it down to the library, setting it neatly on the shelf where it was before. That done, he set about returning the pile of books that had accrued around Twilight's desk. Twilight watched him for a moment before making her way to her bed, pulling back the sheets before slumping into the mattress. Moments before falling asleep, she heard the front door open and slam shut. Rousing herself back to conscience, she looked over at the basket that served as Spike’s bed. A flash of panic washed away her sleepiness when she saw that Spike had not been the one at the door. Cautiously sliding out of bed, her wings ruffled as she crept down the stairs to see just who - or what - had gone through the door. Upon reaching the library proper, Twilight was puzzled not to see anypony in the library. Her ears turned, straining to catch the slightest sound. After a bit, she finally heard something. ‘That’s odd,’ she thought. ‘I only heard the door once, so why is the sound coming from outside?’ Igniting her horn, she channelled her magic into the likeness of her mentor’s cutie mark on the ceiling, causing light to flood the room. Momentarily blinded, she moved one of her wings to shade her eyes as the front door opened, revealing the source of the sounds. Two figures stood outside the door, but they weren’t anything Twilight had ever seen. Both looked like some hairless relative of apes; what set them apart though was their apparent age. While the one approaching the open door had a grey mane on his head and a face full of wrinkles gained from years of laughter, the other was noticeably taller, with a mane that shone like darkened gold. Both also were wearing clothes, which seemed odd. 'But what are they doing... WHAT?!' Twilight was alarmed to see the older ape disappear just as it passed through her doorway. The other ape was already running after its elder, it too disappearing as it passed her threshold. Seconds later, the door creaked shut, shutting with a finality that snapped Twilight from her thoughts. Almost immediately she ran forward, opening the door to look outside for any evidence of what had just transpired. Finding none, she stomped her hoof in frustration. "Ponyfeathers! WHY DO THESE THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?!” she shouted in exasperation. Twilight slammed her door shut, ignoring the other ponies looking out their windows to stare at her. Frustrated by the night's events, she made her way back to her room, extinguishing the light as she went. Climbing into bed, Twilight felt all of the excitement of the last few minutes leave her. As exhaustion took her, she made a silent vow to check and double-check her library for any references on the strange apes. > Questions & Ruins > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2: Questions & Ruins In the ruins: Isaac looked around the spacious ruins one more time before he let the truth set in. “What the hell? Since when do old men disappear like that?” he asked himself. He looked around, this time taking note of his surroundings. He was in what appeared at first sight to be an enclosed courtyard, once-tall pillars standing tall by the broken remains of the wall surrounding the moss-covered cobblestones. On the far side of the enclosure, there was a large stone pedestal that had five small platforms jutting out from the sides, each only just big enough to maybe hold a large lantern. It was the pedestal which intrigued him the most, if only because it looked as though it should be presenting something, yet wasn’t. Closing the door behind him, he wandered to the other end and, finding an ornate, albeit dusty door, he pushed past it and into a spacious hallway. Looking around, he felt spoiled for his choice in doors; three doors stood on both sides, the farthest on the right only barely still attached to the stone around it. There was also a set of doors at the far end of the hallway, the double doors engraved with a pair of unicorns, their horns pointed inward toward the upper corners of each door. An errant thought crossed Isaac's mind as he looked around: how was it that he could see all this despite the enclosed room? Checking how well he could see, he waved his hand in front of him, intercepting a stream of pale light coming from the ceiling. Looking up, he found his answer: the mortar holding the bricks together had crumpled in some places, likely because it hadn't been made just right. Thus, the mortar deteriorated, allowing the evening's moonlight to filter through. An interesting thought to be sure, but it didn't tell Isaac where to go. After a moment’s thought however, he chose to go through the second door on the left, on account that there was noticeably less dust on the handle. ‘After all, something had to have opened that door, and whatever went through must have picked it with a purpose,’ he reasoned to himself. ‘Unless that purpose was to screw with me… Nah, that’d mean that destiny is trying to fuck me over.’ Opening the door, he walked through a corridor just wide enough to fit him and maybe another person side by side. After muttering a few choice words about how noisy the doors were, Isaac started walking, taking notice of the layer of dust that clung to every surface. ‘It’d take a hurricane just to blow all of the dust away,’ he mused. Looking around as he walked, he was startled to notice what looked like hoof prints in the dust. Though there were too many sets travelling down the corridor, he was at least confident he knew what had made them: horses. 'Since when do people let horses into castles?' Isaac asked himself. Groaning, he remembered his predicament. ‘That’s right, I’m not in Kansas anymore, am I Toto?’ Shaking his head at the attempt of humor, he barely stopped himself from tripping over the first stair of a spiral staircase that he somehow missed in his musings. Looking up what he could see of the staircase, he was relieved to see that is was apparently intact, if still as dusty as the rest of the ruins. ‘Small miracles for small people I suppose,’ Isaac thought wryly. About 5 steps up, he started jogging, eager to find out more about where the hoof prints led. After almost half a minute more of climbing, the stairs ended, leading into a room not unlike the courtyard, if somewhat smaller and lacking the decorative stonework. At the far end were a few stairs leading up to a stone dais, a broken throne framed by the night sky as Isaac looked from where he stood. Looking around, he saw more windows, all of them as large as the doors he had come through. Sadly, they were all in a state of disrepair; the glass broken and the frames either gone or rusted beyond repair. Gazing around, Isaac tried to picture what the room had been like long ago, in all its glory. ‘I guess this was a pretty nice castle back in its day,’ he thought, his mood lightening a bit. ‘I wonder how it feels, to sit on a throne like that.’ Smiling, he made his way to the throne. Before he had even taken ten steps however, he felt as though everything, from the dusty air to his very clothes, were prickling him. Then the pain hit him. Just like when he had been standing before the courtyard, the pain spiked through his midsection. Collapsing to the ground, Isaac tried to ride out the pain, clutching his arms against himself in a futile effort to ward off the pain. Instead of disappearing, the pain radiated from his center, burning its way throughout his entire body, leaving him writhing in agony. After the pain spread, it seemed to leave his center, moving instead to his back, where it intensified, as though his spine itself were being rearranged. In Canterlot, Luna’s bedchamber: Luna stood out on her balcony, her attention turned to the distant Everfree Forest. She was tense, her wings half furled, indecisive as whether or not to fly. Her sister Celestia stood beside her, wings folded and resting at her sides. She too looked toward the forest, though she sported a look of apprehension in contrast to Luna’s look of alarm. It was the sun princess who broke the silence. “I do not like this. In all my 1505 years, I haven’t felt magic behave like this.” “Perhaps one of us should check the source of such an anomaly,” Luna commented. “T’would be a good thing to know, should it turn out to be something malicious. Celestia looked askance at her sister for a moment before asking, “Luna, be honest. Do you want to look?” “W-what art thou implying, dear sister?” Luna replied, slightly mortified. Celestia allowed herself a small smile. “Oh? Does that mean you don’t want to talk to your friends again?” she teased. “Wasn’t the last time you met with them this last Nightmare Night?” Luna looked away from Celestia, trying to hide her excitement at the thought of meeting with Twilight and everypony else. “We certainly don’t know what you mean by that sister! We would simply be checking the source of the abnormal magic, nothing more.” "Oh?” Celestia replied, actively working to keep a knowing grin off her face. “I suppose you’re right. However, it is a long flight to the forest,” she mused. Luna’s ears perked toward Celestia. “Y-yes, it is at that.” “It’s long enough that even I might get tired flying all that way,” her sister continued, turning her eyes back toward the distant forest. “But I suppose it must be done. It’s a good thing that there’s a town nearby. It's also quite fortunate that my student lives there. I'm sure she would be glad to let me rest at her house for a bit." At that, Luna's head shot around to look at Celestia, her face the picture of betrayed surprise upon hearing that her sister intended to make the trip she herself had planned to make. Her ears flicked forward in surprise before falling back, her eyes and mouth forming into a pout. "P-perhaps we had best go.” she said making an effort to sound indifferent. “Your presence would excite the locals, causing nothing but trouble for Tw- your student, Miss Sparkle.” "Oh?" She was fighting a losing battle, but she'd be darned if her sister found out she was playing her, trying to get her to be more social. Luna nodded. "We - that is, I - however, do not get such reactions." She continued a hint of desperation showing in her voice. "Indeed, I should be the one to make the trip. I still have much to see of our kingdom, especially after my imprisonment." Celestia appeared to mull over the decision a bit. "Hmm... very well then: I suppose you can make the trip as well as I can." She smiled at her sister. "Be careful. I don't want to lose you again." Luna bounded to her sister, nuzzling her affectionately before leaping into the night sky. "I will, sister dear. Thank you!" She called back as she sped into the night, angling herself toward the Everfree Forest. Celestia chuckled as her sister flew out of sight. As fun as it had been teasing Luna, she knew she had to get some rest before she raised the sun. Teleporting back to her room, she stepped out of the slippers she had worn when the abnormal magic had awoken her. Moving them to her bedside, she crawled back under the covers, resolving to stay there until she had to raise the sun. 'I can still salvage a couple more hours of sleep...' Castle Ruins, Isaac: After about fifteen minutes of the pain, it finally receded enough for Isaac to catch his breath and get up from the floor. As he got to his feet, he noticed that his backpack had slipped off. Dusting it off and gripping it by one of its straps, he cast a wary glance back at the throne. ‘The fuck was that?’ he thought. ‘It couldn’t have been… Magic? Nah, that’s not possible. Then again, I think common sense left a long time ago.’ Moving slowly, Isaac made his way to the throne. Encouraged by the lack of pain thus far, he finally made it to the broken throne. Tracing his hand along the arms, he made up his mind. With a single minded determination, he set out to rid the throne of the dust and the broken pieces of itself, trying to clear it so he could get a better idea of what it might have looked like. A minute later, he stood before a regal - if faded and slightly broken - throne. He was struck with the sudden urge to sit in the throne and, seeing no one else to stop him, sat on the throne, leaving his backpack to rest against the throne’s side. Just as he was getting settled, glowing text flowed around him from the throne, wrapping around him and effectively pinning him to the throne. Almost immediately after, his mind was assaulted by numerous images, impressions, and sensations, all staying in his mind only long enough for him to realize one thing: he was seeing and feeling the forest, almost as though he were the forest itself. Luna, Golden Oaks Library (Twilight’s house): Touching down on the balcony, Luna folded her wings by her sides and knocked at the multi-paned window which stood in place of a door to the library. A moment later she saw a dark shape move through the dimly lit library toward her, and Owlowiscious unlatched the window for her, letting it open outwards as she moved aside and walked inside the library. “You are Twilight’s night assistant, are you not?” Luna asked the owl hovering near the window. Receiving an affirmative hoot, she continued, “Is she available? I have some business nearby, and I need to talk to her.” Hooting once more, Owlowiscious led her down the ladder into the library and up the steps that went to Twilight’s room. Luna recalled how Twilight had spoken to Celestia during one of the few lessons the sisters had collaborated to give her on the basics of leadership soon after her ascension, asking permission to add a wall and door to the room, explaining a desire for privacy as she learned how to properly groom her new wings. Shaking the memories from her mind, she knocked at the door, hoping that she was in time to catch Twilight before her obviously late start on sleep. As Owlowiscious went back to putting the books that Twilight had used away, the mare herself made herself known, opening the door to show an irritated look which quickly turned into shock as she processed the Princess of the Night standing before her. “Princess Luna,” she said, dipping into an impromptu bow even as Luna moved to stop her. “There is no need to bow to me,” she admonished. “Thou- that is, you are a princess as well.” “Sorry,” Twilight said, sheepishly straightening out her bedhead. “So… What brings you to Ponyville Luna? Are you here to give me more lessons?” Shaking her head, Luna answered her question. “Nay Twilight, I fear it is not as pleasant as lessons. First though, I would like to get something to drink, as I have flown with all haste from Canterlot, I feel somewhat tired.” “Oh, of course. Would you like some tea, or maybe some milk? Water?” Twilight’s mane started becoming frazzled as the stress from the sudden visit combined with the night’s earlier events to drive her a bit crazy. “Oh, but what about-” “Enough,” Luna interrupted, continuing in a gentle tone, “I would like some tea, if that is quite alright.” “Oh, right. Sorry about that.” Slightly embarrassed about her outburst, Twilight led her to the kitchen, where she set about making tea for the two of them. Minutes passed in companionable silence as they both waited for the tea to brew. Hearing the kettle sound its telltale whistle, she lifted if from its place on the stove, levitating two cups from the pantry as she brought the kettle to the table where Luna waited patiently. Pouring the two of them tea, she finally brought forth the question which had been bugging her the whole time. “So what brings you out here, if you don’t mind me asking?” Twilight asked, blowing gently on her tea and sipping it before looking expectantly at the night princess. Sipping cautiously at her own tea, Luna grimaced as she burned her tongue. “I do not mind, Twilight,” she said. “Perhaps you can shed some light on the situation.” She proceeded to explain how an unknown magical surge had manifested, drawing not only her own attention, but had also awoken her sister, as well as its likely location. “That said I would appreciate it if you would let me use your guest bedroom after I return.” “Hmm? Oh, of course you can sleep here,” Twilight replied, snapping out of her thoughts. After a moment of silence, she cautiously asked, “Luna, do you think the magic has anything to do with apes?” Receiving a bewildered expression, she went on to describe the events that had transpired outside her door earlier that night, including a description of the two apes. Thinking for a moment as she finished her tea, Luna came to a decision. "I will watch for these apes, but the disturbance comes first," she said, getting up. "Oh, of course princess. I hope you find out what's causing the magical anomaly," Twilight said, taking the empty cup over to the sink. "The guest room's ready for when you get back." Luna got to her hooves and, exchanging a respectful nod, made her way outside the library, flying off to the Everfree Forest, where the anomaly originated. Perched atop a tree outside the ruined throne room, looking through the window at Isaac: “Looks like it’s all happening as I thought it would,” the old man muttered to himself. “Good thing too, I can only imagine how horrible it would feel for him otherwise.” He continued watching for a bit then, as if on some invisible signal, turned to look at a distant speck in the sky. Watching the speck he muttered to himself, “Sorry, but it isn’t time yet for that. Not for him, nor for you or your sister.” Turning to fully face the incoming pony, now identifiable distantly as Princess Luna, the old man leapt into the air, his body changing to that of an ashen alicorn, three black highlights running through his mane and tail. As his body finished changing, his cutie mark appeared: a black hourglass, its top portion filled with ivory sand which slowly trickled into the bottom portion. Opening his golden eyes, he took flight, shifting his path to make sure he intercepted the younger alicorn before she came in view of the window he had been looking through. Perspective: Luna By the time Luna reached the forest, the surge of magic she was tracking had disappeared. By that time however, she had a good guess of where it was. About a mile from her destination, a dark figure sped toward her. Backwinging furiously, she forced her tiring body to hover as the figure approached. As the figure approached, she was able to identify it as a dark coated alicorn. ‘That cannot be right. My sister and I were the last of our kind until Miss Cadenza and Twilight,' she thought. 'Miss Cadenza would have told us if she were going to visit us, so she must still be in the Crystal Empire. Twilight on the other hoof is still learning to fly, so I doubt that's her. Who then could it be?' Moments later the alicorn slowed, hovering close enough for easy conversation and seeming to interpose himself between her and the ruins. “Princess Luna. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asked, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement, his face set to pleasant neutrality. Luna eyed the stallion cautiously. He had been careful in positioning himself lower than her, only a few feet above the top of the forest below them both. It was possible, she privately thought, that he was just being deferential to her status. There was however, a part of her that told her he was preparing for a quick escape, using the forest to help him get away. After a moment she answered him, “That depends, strange stallion, on you. Who are you, and what business do you have here?” “I’m sorry to say, but my business is not yet yours, though I think it will eventually concern both you and your sister,” the stallion replied, his smile taking on a regretful twinge as he primed a spell on his horn. Luna quickly reacted, erecting an azure barrier around herself. “As for my identity, well…” He fired off a spell which slipped through the barrier, popping harmlessly when it came into contact with her chest. “Perhaps it would be better if you asked your sister about me,” he said sounding a bit regretful. “What have you done with us?!” the princess demanded, agitated that the spell hadn’t had a noticeable effect. The stranger’s words sunk in, and she cried out, “What would our sister know about you that she hasn’t thought to tell us?” Her wings seemed to feel heavier with each flap, her barrier dissolved as she struggled to keep her quickly-tiring body aloft. “I’m sorry, but it’s necessary that you don’t get involved yet,” the stallion said, catching her in a golden-hued aura as she dipped closer to the forest below. “The spell itself, how to say... It rolls back your internal clock about 12 hours or so, to put it simply. This causes anypony's body that is affected to revert to the state of awareness they had half a day ago.” By now, Luna was having trouble keeping her eyes open, his voice was becoming distant and hard to focus on. “One last thing before you fall asleep; regarding my name…” she felt him bring her closer, heard him whisper in her ear just before she passed out. “Ask Celestia about Tempus Fluit.” Back at the Ruined Castle: Isaac slumped in the broken throne, his mind overwhelmed by everything that had flowed through his mind as the glowing text that had bound his body fading, leaving his body free to fall forward. Unsupported, he fell to the dusty floor, his limbs unable to catch him as his overburdened mind struggled to come to terms with what just happened, leaving his body sprawled gracelessly on the dusty floor. Blinking, he barely noticed his eyes responding sluggishly. ‘What… just… happened… to me?’ he asked himself, his mind struggling to form coherent thoughts. ‘Ugh, so tired. Whatever, it’ll… still be… there… tomorrow,’ he decided, his conscious fading as his eyes shut and stayed closed. A figure flew through the air, his ashen wings carrying him through one of the broken windows of the throne room Isaac now slept in. Touching down softly at the foot of the dais, Tempus changed his body back to that of an old man. Examining the prone young man with a critical eye, he reached out with his mind and felt Isaac’s energy. Finding what he was looking for, he withdrew his mental touch, pondering what had to be done next. ‘Too much help now and he might become overconfident in himself,’ he silently mused, pacing before the unconscious man. ‘Not enough help, however, may end up getting him killed. What to do…?’ Coming to a decision, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn notepad. Reaching around to the back of his shirt collar, he unclipped an old fountain pen. Uncapping the pen, he scribbled out a note on the notepad, the ink drying the instant it came into contact with the paper. Signing the note, he ripped the page out and folded it as he walked to Isaac’s pack, putting it in a side pocket. “Here’s hoping everything works out well,” Tempus whispered, turning toward the stairway. As he began to walk forward, his body progressively faded from view, disappearing altogether as he walked through the archway set at the beginning of the stairs. > Trouble in the forest > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 3 Trouble in the Forest Morning, the ruined throne room: Isaac roused from his sleep with a sneeze, scattering the dust directly in front of his face and causing his eyes to water as the grainy particles tried to gather under his rapidly blinking eyelids. Standing up, he discovered two things; one was that, to his dismay and discomfort, he was very stiff from his unusual sleeping position, the second was that he was sore from his night spent on the unforgiving stone floor. Stretching his stiff body, he looked around the room in an effort to remember what had happened. When the memories caught up to him, he could only grimace. 'Looks like I sure got the metaphorical neck of the chicken,' he thought glumly. Looking back to the broken throne, he saw his backpack where he’d left it leaning against the side. Vigorously brushing over his maroon shirt and faded jeans to dislodge the last of the clinging dust, he walked over to retrieve his pack, being careful not to touch the throne for fear of what happened last night. Wiping off the dust which had settled on the pack overnight, he decided to take stock of what he had. Unzipping it, Isaac looked inside and grimaced at the folded shirt and trousers that made up his work uniform. ‘I guess I could keep them. If nothing else, I might need the cloth,’ he thought. Somewhat absentmindedly, he set those on the seat of the throne, which he hadn’t bothered to move away from in his desire to check his supplies. Soon joining the clothes was the set of knives sheathed in the scroll tube and a couple of granola bars. 'Looks like breakfast is accounted for.' Checking his backpack one last time with the hope of finding another snack, he almost missed a twice-folded slip of paper that had made its way to the bottom of the packs side pocket. ‘That’s odd,’ Isaac thought, cocking his head to the side in confusion. ‘I don’t think I packed you before I came here.’ Pulling out the paper and unfolding it, he could only stare blankly at the strange text written on the page. ‘... I didn’t realize I… sleep-write? … No, I don’t think I have THAT many issues.’ He frowned down at the slip, frustrated about the lack of readable information on the small paper. Shaking his head, he stuffed the slip of paper back into his backpack, repacking his knives and clothes, and stuffing one granola bar into his pocket and unwrapping the other. Crumpling the wrapper and stuffing it into his back pocket, he thought about his next move as he crouched down, eyes downcast. 'Option A, wander the forest for berries and maybe find some easy meat. Pro: survival, maybe find other people. Con: a couple of bad berries or a predator could kill me.' Mulling it over, he continued looking through his train of decisions, trailing a finger through the dust as he crunched on his breakfast. 'Option B, stick around and hope for the best...' He shook his head at that. 'Nope, too uncertain. I doubt anyone comes by often enough to matter, and I'd rather not give the next visitor an ominous view of my dead body.' Finishing his granola bar, he slapped his knees and got to his feet. "I suppose it's decided then," he said, grabbing his backpack from the ground where he had set it down. " 'The path to life is through the fire' as my father said." Slinging his pack to his back, he paused before turning back to the throne. '... Nope, not gonna try sitting in that hunk of rubble again,' he thought, turning back to the stairs and retracing his steps from the previous night. Making his way out of the ruined castle, he looked back at the place which had served as his resting place for the night. With a smile, he called out (to no one in particular), “Allons y,” and set out across the bridge and into the forest. Princess Luna: Luna awoke with a gasp, struggling with the blanket she found herself tangled in as her body tried to adjust from sleeping to trying to fly. 'Wait, blanket?' she thought as her mind caught up to the present, stopping to stare at the unexpected sheet of cloth. Looking around, she took in the cozy room which she now recognized as Twilight’s guest room, giving a half smile as she looked at the bookshelf fully stocked with what she guessed were the extra books from the library. ‘And yet she continues to order more books,’ she thought with a wry chuckle. Turning her mind from her surroundings, she tried to recall what had happened before her untimely slumber. Thinking back, she couldn’t recall anything beyond her encounter with the stallion who had called himself Tempus Fluit. The way he had talked gave her the impression that he knew her sister, so why didn’t she know of him as well? Filing that line of thought away for later, Luna untangled herself from the blanket, letting it fall off of her as she stretched her body and gracefully stepped off the bed. Her mane and tail, now freed from the cloth that had held them, flowed freely in an unseen breeze, the ethereal blue acting as a window into the night sky as it’s mistress now walked through the library. Following the sound of something sizzling, she was delighted when she smelled well-cooked pancakes coming from where she knew the kitchen to be. Entering the kitchen, her hungry stomach zeroed in on a small stack of pancakes resting on a plate set in the center of the table. Luna barely noticed Spike by the stove, standing on a stool so he could reach the pancakes he was cooking. Acknowledging his good morning with a distracted greeting of her own, she lifted a nearby plate in front of her as she sat down at the small table. Just as she sat down, a certain lavender alicorn made her presence known by stumbling down the nearby stairs, dark rings under her eyes showing how little sleep she had gotten since Luna had seen her the previous night. Twilight made it to the table, seating herself without preamble by Luna, not seeming to notice her as she looked hungrily on the few pancakes that had already been cooked. Luna decided to break the silence with a, "Good morning Miss Sparkle." Blinking tiredly, Twilight looked at Luna blankly for a moment before her eyes widened in recognition. "Pr- Luna!" She snapped to full awareness as she looked at her latest guest. "I'm so sorry, I'd forgotten you were staying overnight. Oh shoot, the library is still a mess is-” Luna, deciding that the morning would be better spent in relative peace and quiet, put her hoof over Twilight’s mouth, simultaneously quieting her and getting her attention. “Twilight,” Luna began, blinking the last dregs of sleep from her eyes. “I think we can make it through breakfast without worrying about the cleanliness of the library.” Flicking her ears back sheepishly, Twilight nodded her understanding. Moving her hoof away, Luna floated a couple of pancakes from the stack to her plate, the lavender alicorn beside her following suit. Moments later Spike moved the last of the pancakes, one of which had just finished cooking, to his own plate.  Noticing how uncharacteristically quiet he was being, Luna looked over at Spike, noting the way he tried to not be noticed by anypony else. Glancing at Twilight, she too was looking at him with a thoughtful expression on her face. Looking back at Spike, a plan wiggled it’s way into Luna’s mind. "On the other hoof,” Luna’s voice took on a playful inflection, “I think I saw a number of research books among the shelves set aside for fiction.” She caught Twilight’s attention and winked at her. “Perhaps it would be a wise idea to get that resolved as soon as possible.” Spike tensed imperceptibly as she said this, his eyes widening a bit as Twilight caught on. “O-oh dear," she said trying to sound serious but almost failing. “You’re right. Then again…” Spike looked at Twilight with thinly-veiled hope. “... If there’s a mix-up between the reference and the fiction sections, then there might even more books where they shouldn’t be.” Twilight paused, looking directly into Spike’s eyes to add weight to her next words. “We’re going to have to reshelve the whole library again.” Spike sat there for a moment, looking at Twilight before one of his eyes started twitching. “Twilight, didn’t we do that just a couple of days ago?” Seeing her nod, he continued, “Wouldn’t it be fine to just sort through them at the end of the month as usual?” The mirth that had been slowly building in Twilight’s eyes was instantly replaced with cool consternation. "Spike, what would happen if we left the library unorganized?” “Nothing Twilight,” Spike snorted. “Hardly anypony comes to check out books, and everypony that does has to look for half an hour to find their book, all because you insist on reorganizing the entire library every month.” “Don’t you remember what I said when I told you about it the first time? Reshelving once a month makes it easier for us to organize all the books we exchange with the library in Canterlot.” “I still don’t get why you insist on doing that exchange thing,” he grumbled. “Nopony comes here that often.” "Spike, the monthly Canterlot Literary Exchange is there so that ponies have the opportunity to read books from all over Equestria," Twilight patiently explained. "Not only that, but it also helps less known authors by circulating their books throughout libraries all over Equestria." Spike grumbled incomprehensibly, folding his small arms in defeat. After a moment, he looked back at Twilight, suspicion in his eyes. “You’re the one who helped come up with the idea, so why am I always the one who ends up putting the books back on the shelves?” Whatever retort Twilight was about to give died in her mouth as she looked blankly at Spike. Luna, seeing an opportunity, answered him in a knowing voice. “I’m sure she means to, but it is easy to get distracted.” She looked at Twilight with a glimmer of humour in her eye. “Doubly so when there is so many books one hasn’t read before.” Spike glanced at Luna thoughtfully, the gears of his mind turning as he recalled his previous reshelving experiences. His brow furrowed, he turned again to the librarian magician. “That actually explains a few things,” he said, more to himself than to the two ponies beside him. Twilight ducked her head sheepishly under his gaze, a light blush forming over her embarrassed smile. A moment passed in silence before the mare in question looked down at the table, sighing in defeat. "All right, I may have gotten a bit distracted the last few times the books arrived," Twilight said hesitantly, “and maybe I wasn’t exactly helping you like I should have.” She looked up, an apology writ upon her face. Spike's eyes softened a bit. "Aw, Twilight. It's alright, but please try to help out next time." Twilight smiled as he continued, “After all, I can understand when you just wanna cuddle with a new book before you read it.” Twilight reared her head back indignantly. “I-I don’t cuddle books!” she stammered, her slight blush returning to her cheeks. “Then what were you doing with ‘Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy’ last night?” Spike retorted, raising a questioning eyebrow. Twilight gaped for a moment before raising her snout in a mockingly haughty manner. “I can’t help it if I fall in love with Newt-on’s writings,” she replied, her answer and tone causing Luna to snort. Spike sent a confused look toward the night princess, then shrugged dismissively. “I suppose you can’t really control what attracts you, huh?” Spike asked. This time it was Twilight who couldn’t hold back a giggle. Spike looked blankly at her before he shook his head, dismissing the two mares as crazy before he started eating. A quiet moment was shared as everyone ate, eager to finish their meal while it was fresh. It was Spike who broke the silence. “So, no offense or anything, but what brings you here today Princess?” he asked offhandedly. Twilight’s ears swiveled to listen, eager to her the results of the Princess’s findings. Finishing her last bite, Luna gathered her thoughts before she spoke, directing most of what she said to Twilight. "After our… meeting last night, I found that the source of the thaumaturgical disruption is located somewhere in our former castle.” Twilight gave her a worried look. “You mean you didn’t get to see what caused it?” Seeing Luna shake her head she continued, “Why not? Did it leave before you could see it?” “Nay, I…” her eyes hardened imperceptibly and her posture straightened, “I was intercepted before I could get there.” She rushed to clarify upon seeing Twilight's confusion. "Somepony took me by surprise over the forest. I’m not exactly sure how, but he managed to hit me with an odd spell, something I cannot honestly say I have seen before." Twilight looked thoughtful before she responded. "'He' was with you above the trees?" She asked. Seeing Luna nod she continued. "He also cast a spell on you? The same one who was with you?" She chewed her lip a bit. "Then you're saying..." She trailed off. Luna nodded. "Indeed. It seems that there is an alicorn that neither of us knew about." She frowned, remembering what he had said. “Although he seems to have some connection to my sister. Tell me, do you recall anything about a certain ‘Tempus Fluit’?” Gaze unfocusing, Twilight thought back through all the books she had read. She shook her head. “I’m sorry Princess. I can't say for sure, but I don't think there's any books, either here or in the Canterlot library, that mention that name. Can you remember him well enough to describe him?” "Certainly," Luna said nodding. She described her encounter, paying especial attention to the stallion’s appearance. "There was something odd about his magic as well. Even with my own extensive knowledge, I have never known a spell to simply pass directly through a barrier." Twilight frowned at that. “Technically speaking, there are only a few spells that can bypass a barrier. What happened when it touched the barrier? " "It didn't seem to touch it, more as though it went through it as if it wasn't there," Luna replied. The lavender mare's frown deepened at that. "'As though it wasn't there?' There isn't any spell recorded that can do that." She blinked, suddenly unsure, "At least, there aren't any that I've heard of. It's most likely a specialty spell. That leaves another question though: what kind of magical specialty allows a spell to retain an effect after passing through a magic-based barrier?" Twilight paused, her mind halting on that thought. "Come to think of it, what did his spell do?" It was Luna's turn to frown. "I'm not entirely sure. Except for the fact that I felt perfectly fine waking up in the morning, as opposed to my normal evening awakening, I cannot say that I notice any odd effects." "Mmm… I'll look into it later. It seems like a promising topic, even if the don't find out his name.” Luna inclined her head gratefully. Spike's sigh drifted into the lull of conversation. "Are you two going to eat before the food gets cold?" He asked, midway through his own meal. Twilight gave a slightly exasperated eye-roll at his impatience as she and the visiting princess started eating. The room was quiet except for the occasional sound of appreciation for the home-cooked meal. It was Luna who hesitantly broke the silence next. “Twilight, it may not be the ideal way to spend the day, but would you care to lend me your aid for today? I would like to investigate what it is that this mystery stallion is hiding, and we would appreciate somepony to watch our back." A slow, small smile spread across the lavender mare’s face. “Of course I’ll help. It isn’t likely coincidence that we both see something unexplained in the same night, and if you’re right about the old castle—” “ —Then we will likely find our answers there,” Luna finished. Isaac, the forest: Letting loose what felt like the thousandth yawn in the past hour he had been walking, Isaac marveled at the fact that the forest, despite being somewhat desolate, managed to cultivate an air of menace that permeated the entirety of the forest, from the boughs and trunks of the trees  to the leaves and thorns of the shrubs which grew near the path he had followed from the bridge. ‘I almost wish something would happen, if it’d only make things a little livelier,’ he thought to himself. Almost as if the forest had been listening to his thoughts, he heard a patch of bushes rustle a few feet away from the path. ‘Fuck! I didn’t think jinxing was a real thing!’ he thought, panicking as the rustling continued before a snake about as wide as his arm slithered toward him. Jolting in surprise, he backpedaled as the snake drew closer to the path, not seeming to pay Isaac any mind. His surprise turned into puzzlement as the snake made to cross the path in front of him. Partway across, the snake paused, rearing it’s head back and turning to look at him with what he could only describe as an expectant look. Blinking rapidly, Isaac tried to make sense of the snake’s actions. “What? I hope you aren’t trying to ask me for food,” he said, feeling somewhat foolish for talking to a snake. To his surprise, the snake shook it’s head at him in an unmistakably negative gesture. “Oh, alright then. Umm… Good morning to you then, I suppose,” he said, his voice trailing off toward the end. Nodding pleasantly at him, the snake lowered its head back to the ground and slithered along to the other side of the path. Isaac stood there for a moment, pondering what he had just seen. ‘... It’s gotta be magic. That’s the most likely answer to all this weird shit.’ Mentally facepalming, he continued along the path. “Ugh, most definitely the worst idea I’ve had all day,” Isaac groaned. Shortly after his encounter with the snake, he had found a patch of berries a few feet from the path. Figuring that he’d just found a small lunch, he had picked enough berries that he’d had to use the bottom of his shirt as a makeshift pouch. That done, he made it back to the path, munching on the berries as he continued on his way. He hadn’t known, however, that his stomach would decide to rebel against him for his casual choice of food. A couple of hours later found him clutching his stomach as he walked through the forest, barely paying attention to the path anymore, his feet falling heavier upon the dirt and foliage as he slowly trod on. Isaac groaned again, hunching over his stomach as he felt it rumble sickeningly. ‘That’s the worst part of it,’ he mentally groaned. ‘My stomach’s so loud, every predator- NO! I refuse to jinx myself again.’ Stumbling along, he heard his stomach growl again, seeming to echo throughout the trees surrounding him. 'It'd figure that I would be transported away from home by some supernatural old man, only to be killed by some bad berries,' he thought humorlessly as his stomach growled louder. Pausing at the sound, Isaac realized that he hadn't felt his stomach rumble for about a minute. Eyes darting around, he looked nervously at the surrounding forest, seeking the telltale signs of life --of a predator-- that was surely stalking him. Looking hard at a now suspicious piece of foliage, he strained his eyes to make out the shape of whatever was following him. Almost as though they realized that he was aware of them, the creatures slunk out from the surrounding forest, encircling him as they looked hungrily upon him. Isaac looked at the creatures in disbelief. ‘Wooden… Wolves? Wait a minute, could they be… Timberwolves?’ He chuckled, the pain receding into the background of his mind in favor of the present threat. ‘That’s bad, I’m gonna be killed by nature’s unimaginative practical joke.’ Even as he made his silent comments the wolves as one turned to face him, making Isaac shiver as their eyes appraised him as one. ‘Well, here’s the part where I make some crack about getting the rumble seat ride,’ he thought as he briefly remembered the old song his father had sang to his mother long ago. Snarling, the wolf to his left ran the few feet separating them, leaping to tackle him as time seemed to slow for Isaac, his senses going into overdrive at the threat of impending doom. Adrenaline pumping, he moved aside, narrowly avoiding the lunging wolf as he ran for the temporary break in the wolves’ circle, his stomach pains all but forgotten as he sprinted  hard, the wolves not far behind him. Later, if someone had asked what he was thinking then, he would have told them he had been thinking of ways to get away. The truth, however, was that he only had room for one thought: ‘Nope! Nope nope nope, no way!’ Arms pumping hard at his sides, eyes wide in panic, he ran as fast as he could, barely noticing that he had left the path. as he ran, one of the quicker wolves managed to close the distance between them, snapping at his heels and calves as Isaac yelped, pushing his body to the limit in an effort to get away. A loud sound interrupted his frantic thoughts, followed by the breaking of glass. Sparing a moment to look back, Isaac saw shards of glass scattered around the wolf that had caught up, the liquid which must have been in the thrown container making a sizzling sound not unlike cooking meat. The pursuing wolves stopped, whipping their heads around in an effort to locate the new threat. Feeling a tugging on his shirt, he looked down to see what looked like a miniature zebra. ‘What the… Magic, that’s right,’ he thought, taking in the striped mohawk that only reached up to his stomach, marking her as shorter than he thought a zebra should be. Tugging again, it seemed to be trying to tell him to follow as it started running, only sparing him a backward glance as she moved. Snapping back to the situation at hand, he followed the zebra, running to catch up. As luck would have it though, their escape didn’t go unnoticed. One of the wolves saw them run, snarling as it too ran after them, drawing the pack’s attention until the chase was resumed, this time with more prey for them to catch. Following the short zebra, Isaac found himself led through the forest, nearly losing his guide at one point, all the while the pursuing timberwolves snapped and snarled their hunger only a few yards behind him. Just as his energy started to flag despite his adrenaline rush, he found himself running almost face first into a gnarled tree. Cursing his inattentiveness, he looked up at the tree, noting how it as well partook in the forest’s general atmosphere of creepiness. Looking around to see where his guide had gone to, he saw an open door in the trunk of the tree. ‘I suppose treehouses are a regular thing here,’ he thought, the irony coloring his mind with amusement. Hearing a growl not far behind him, he spun, eyes wide to better see everything – anything – happening. What he saw puzzled him: the wolves had spread out at the treeline, yet wouldn’t even approach the treehouse beyond their positions, opting instead to growl their displeasure at losing their prey. Puzzled over their strange behavior, Isaac was startled to hear the zebra nicker at him from the doorway. Noting the confusion on his face, the zebra gestured for him to follow it as it went back into the tree. Shrugging, he followed it into the tree, sparing the growling wolves a backwards glance before ducking through the doorway. Looking around, Isaac realized he had been wrong about his initial impression: the tree was hollowed out to form something closer to a hut than the house he had expected. The ceiling was only a few inches taller than the top of his head, he observed a he straightened fully. Furthermore, the hut seemed chock full of voodoo masks, flasks and vials of strange liquids, and various plants, some of which he had seen in the forest on his until-recently uneventful walk. Taking up the center of the living space, resting in a dip in the floor was a large cauldron, half full of a bubbling liquid, heated courtesy of a crackling fire lit underneath it. Looking once again at his savior, he watched it take off some sort of saddlebag made of woven grass, gold jewelry quietly clicking together as she somehow twisted her neck to take off the bag. ‘Okay, We may have been running from a pack of wolves, but how on god's green earth did I not notice all that jewelry?’ he thought, privately astonished at not only his own inattentiveness, but at the fact that a zebra was wearing jewelry. As he watched the zebra, it turned to face him, giving him a look of curiosity as it once again made it’s series of sounds. As it “spoke,” Isaac noticed that the sounds it made had a particular cadence or pattern. ‘If it’s trying to talk to me, I hope it isn’t saying something important,’ he thought, his puzzled face managing to convey his confusion to the zebra. Brow furrowing, it started gesturing at him with its hooves when a loud grumble broke through the zebra’s efforts to communicate. Clutching his stomach, Isaac was reminded of the berries he had eaten, the resulting pain forgotten in his flight from the pack of timberwolves. So distracted by his discomfort, he didn’t notice the short quadruped's look of concern, nor did he care to take notice as it walked around the hut, checking a couple of flasks before slipping one out from a cord of rope hanging near one of the shelves. Walking over to Isaac, it reared up on it's hind legs, bracing itself on his shoulders with it's forelegs and all but pushing the flask held gingerly between its teeth in front of his face. Blinking dumbly for a moment, it took him a second to realize the obvious. 'It wants me to drink that?' He thought a moment before throwing caution to the wind. 'I might as well,' he reasoned. 'It could have left me alone with the big bad wolves, so what's there to lose?' Reaching up with one hand, Isaac accepted the proffered flask, thumbed off the cork stoppering it, tipped his head back and drunk the foul smelling liquid, gagging a bit as it passed down his throat. There was an almost immediate relief as his stomach ceased its rebellion against its troublesome guest. Sighing in relief, Isaac started to thank the zebra but stopped when he realized it was likely it could understand his words as well as he could understand it. Instead he settled for a deep bow to show his thanks, which the zeba accepted, inclining its head toward him with a relieved smile. Zecora was puzzled by the strange creature. Standing twice as tall as her on it's hind legs, it wore clothes to cover it's hairless body which left a good portion of his upper appendages uncovered. It was obviously intelligent, if its expressions of gratitude were anything to go by. What actually puzzled her was that despite its intelligence, it had made made little effort to communicate with her. “Strange creature from abroad, you have an answer I would seek,” Zecora began, stepping, “please tell me now, why do you not speak?” Cocking its head to one side, it let out a few sounds similar to the monkeys found deeper in the forest. ‘Unsurprising it should be, considering it’s apparent primate ancestry,’ she thought. “It seems that although you can certainly speak, your grasp on our language is rather weak," she said solemnly. "There is something I can do, though compared to words it is quite softer. The method to you might be a bit new, but rest assured it’s little more than magic powder.” She smiled a bit as the creature scowled, its incomprehension the cause of a good deal of frustration for it- him she realized, if his sharp chin and wider shoulders were any indication of gender. Her smile widened in amusement as she heard him mutter something incomprehensible under his breath. “Fucking mini zebra,” Isaac muttered. When it had continued “talking” to him, he had told it that he couldn’t understand what it was saying. Despite that, it continued in it’s oddly cadenced voice, giving him a smile as he scowled at it. ‘I hate it when people don't take a hint,’ he thought. Isaac was startled to hear his stomach rumble, though calmed down a bit when he realized that he was simply hungry. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out his last granola bar, squashed by his mad dash from nature’s bad joke. ‘Food’s food I guess,’ he thought. ‘Now if only there were more of it...’ Shrugging, he wolfed down the small bit of food, sighing as its taste briefly passed through his mouth, dropping down his throat even as the zebra watched. The morsel did little to satisfy his stomach, a fact not lost to the zebra. Giving Isaac a calm look, it walked over to the cauldron, grabbing a ladle as it passed by a table, and scooped some of the liquid into a bowl it balanced on its hoof, which it then passed over to him. Eyeing the bowl curiously, he took a whiff of the steaming liquid inside. Somehow, it reminded him of the soup his god-mother had always made when he visited her. Shaking away the nostalgic thoughts, Isaac briefly looked for any nearby utensils before shrugging and lifting the bowl to his lips. Drinking the soup, he gasped as the hot liquid seared his tongue and throat, his urge to eat having caused him to forget the consequences of consuming hot food without waiting for it to cool. Taking quick breaths in a futile attempt to relieve his scalded mouth, he swung his head around in search of something he could cool his mouth with. Zeroing in on a nearby drinking mug, he dashed to the table it was on, depositing the soup bowl on it as he grasped the mug in his other hand. Barely noticing the panicking zebra that was moving to stop him, Isaac downed the liquid without giving any thought to the contents of the mug. The mug, empty now of its previous contents, was deposited back onto the table. Sighing in relief, Isaac savored the slight numbing feeling the drink had brought to his mouth. Turning his head to look at the zebra, his sheepish smile turned to a puzzled frown when he saw one of its forehooves striking it's forehead in an imitation of a human face-palm. 'Or would it be called a face-hoof?' he thought. 'Wait, could it be... That wasn't something safe to drink?' Darkness encroached on the edges of his vision, the feeling of numbness that had started in his mouth spreading throughout his body. 'Well sh-' > The Awakening > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 4 The Awakening Isaac I regained conscience slowly, a familiar pang of hunger returning with it. Barely noticing the softer surface below me, I drew myself up, a low groan slipping from my mouth. There was a shuffling sound nearby, then something prodded insistently at my side. Opening my eyes revealed my rescuer—possibly my poisoner as well—the zebra. It stood by my head, it's muzzle hanging over me as it looked me over. Nodding in apparent satisfaction, it walked to the cauldron that had held the soup from before. It ladled more soup, no longer steaming hot, into a bowl. Balancing the full dish on one hoof, it moved with practiced ease on three legs toward me. I couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive; the zebra had, in all likelihood, poisoned me. I held out my hand for the bowl, my stomach urging me to move past any misgivings I may have. All the same, my finger quickly dipped to the soup. Thankfully the soup had cooled quite a bit. Licking the dipped finger determined that it was also quite good too. I looked to the zebra, pantomiming eating with a spoon. I was answered with a frown and a shoulder-shift that (I could only guess) passed for a shrug. I grimaced, knowing what I’d have to do, not to mention how demeaning it would feel. I raised the bowl to my mouth and drank the broth, humming in pleasure at the unexpectedly delicious taste. So caught up in the broth was I that I forgot about the more solid bits of the soup until a piece of skinned root fell onto my face. I froze. When it started sliding off I tried to grab it with my free hand, not paying attention to the soup sloshing around in the bowl the other hand was holding. Just as soon as I caught it, I felt something warm splash onto my lap. I groaned as I looked down on the new stain settling into my jeans. My embarrassment was doubled when I heard the creator of the soup giggling at my plight. Resignation crept over me, and I sighed. Almost as an afterthought I tossed the chunk of fallen food that I'd caught into my mouth. I refused to let my recent meal misfortune take that much from me. The zebra prodded my leg, silently asking for my attention. Once I looked at it, the creature walked over to a wooden rack, unfolding it as the zebra dragged it closer to the fire. Understanding dawned on me when a foreleg was gesturing toward the souped on pants. I realized what was be I asked of me, and I struggled to hide the blush forming. Intellectually, I knew that it was offering to dry my pants. A part of my mind, however, kept telling me that it would end just like the first time I had been in a similar situation. Shaking the thought from my head, I dragged the blanket I'd been on over my legs before I pulled my pants off, leaving the blanket to cover my groin and bare legs, and handed them to the waiting zebra. The zebra raised a puzzled eyebrow at me, but accepted the pants in it's mouth. I watched as it draped the clothes on the structure. Rubbing the last of unconsciousness from my eyes, I pondered how best to communicate with my most recent caretaker. As I struggled with the dilemma, I noticed the light slowly dimming. A single glance out of the nearby window confirmed that the sun was setting, though it was moving faster than it ought to. It began as an itch in my back, something so small it was easy to ignore as I watched the sunset. The itch spread through my body, becoming more and more intense until it became a pain that consumed my body. It pricked and blazed throughout my body, my blood like molten slag dripping through my veins, the air I breathed became a cloud of needles flying into my lungs. Distantly, I heard screaming before being muffled when something was shoved into my mouth, large enough to fit between my teeth. Luna I sighed in satisfaction as I felt my moon rise, a gentle glow replacing the overbearing light of my sister's sun in the sky. My reverie was broken by nearby hoofsteps approaching. I turned about to face Miss Sparkle, curiosity writ upon her face. "Are we ready to be on our way, Twilight Sparkle?" I asked. She nodded, though I noted a hint of curiosity about her. "Pri- Luna," she corrected herself, "why wait until now to leave? Wouldn't we have gotten there sooner if we left earlier?" I nodded. "Yes, though it is likely we would have been caught at a disadvantage. Understand that, as Steward of the Night, my power is bound to the cycle of the day, waxing as night approaches and waning with the dawn." Twilight blinked. "That," she said, "actually makes a lot of sense." I decided not to answer, instead pacing over to the open balcony. My wings unfurled, keeping still to feel the lingering breeze before I swept them down. The swift stroke launched me high into the air, and I paused for a moment to wait for Twilight to join me. When I heard wingbeats approaching I angled south, toward the castle ruins, to answers. Isaac Time seemed to crawl as the agony continued to tear my body apart. With no conscious thought, I couldn't keep track of how long the pain had lasted see far, though I got a vague sense of it moving throughout my body, as though trying to do an area it hadn't yet affected. It was gradual, but I noticed the pain begin to fade, starting first from my core, spreading out toward my limbs. As I lay where I was, raw nerves prickling lightly in my arms and legs, I tried to calm myself down from the pain-filled high I was just on. There was a nicker to one side, then a striped muzzle made itself known beside me. Dimly, I turned my head to face my black and white equine caretaker. It waited a beat, then reached toward my face. I was suddenly aware of  a rough shape in my mouth, which turned out to be a chunk of wood when I spat it out from between my aching jaws. I sat up slowly, my body still sore from the memory of agony felt only moments ago. The zebra began checking my body, hooves gently pressing in different areas while it's eyes guaged my reaction. Satisfied by my apparent wellbeing the zebra put a hoof against my chest. Exerting a gentle pressure, it guided me back into a resting position and pulled the sheet awkwardly over me, leaving me to wonder about the sudden bout of care as I drifted into a more natural sleep.