A good 16 years before the return of Nightmare Moon, another fantastic event occurred in Canterlot. All it took was one human who discovered the secrets of ponies, a zealous guard that would do everything for his country and a Princess who only wanted the wellbeing of her people.
A big thank you to Raharu for some ideas and an even bigger thank you to E.D. Garnot for proof reading this. If I don't get featured on EqD, it will only be because I didn't follow your advices stringently enough.
Oh, for anyone interested, the story is a crossover with Tribunal from which it borrows its red thread. There is, I'd wager, little Elder Scrolls to actually be found here, unless you look really hard.
A pair of bare feet appeared first, followed by a body covered in deep purple fabric and lastly a head full of dirty blonde hair. A ragged group of ponies observed him as he climbed down the ladder. They looked at a creature that they had never seen before. None of them dared move and observed as he slowly descended into their sewer. None of them except for a pegasus. She strode confidently below the opening.
“What business do you have among the poor of Canterlot, outlander?”
The creature nearly fell off the ladder. He quickly grabbed the steps and jumped down the rest of the short way. He looked at her curiously: a mare with a dark purple coat, a short magenta mane and a golden ring in each ear.
“I’m just passing through here, looking for someone in a black robe,” the outlander replied defensively and raised his arms.
The pegasus observed him for a moment before speaking.
“Why don’t you join us? We may be able to help you,” the mare eventually said and tossed her head towards a little camp. The outlander remained standing, observing them. The mare sat down on a bedroll and nodded towards another one in front of her. “Come. We don’t bite.”
The rest of the poor remained outside the light of the campfire as the outlander took a seat.
“I have never seen anything like you before,” the purple pony said and grabbed the creature’s hand, turning it in her hoofs. “Are you perhaps a shaved minotaur?”
“I am Lars Leland, a human,” he explained and allowed the mare to play with his hand. “I hadn’t seen a talking horse before until a few days ago.”
“Do not mistake us for horses,” the mare said angrily and released his hand. “We are ponies. My name is Carnelian Tiara, and I’m a pegasus. Starlight Treasure over there is a unicorn.” She gestured towards one of the many horned ponies, an elderly mare with a dark purple coat. “The ones without horns or wings are called earth ponies.”
“How very, very peculiar. Where I come from, my race is the only one with sentience,” Lars stated and gave them all a look in turn.
“How dull that must be. So what business do you have in Canterlot, human? And what do you want with the Black Daggers?” she asked, her tone getting an edge to it.
His face turned sombre as he waited a moment to reply. “I woke up in a hospital with no recollections of getting here. When they discharged me, I went to the marketplace above to gather my thoughts. A robed pony threatened me on my life to leave. She vanished before I could talk with her, but I get the feeling she knows something. I think she went down here.”
Again, her grey eyes bore into his as if attempt to dig out the core. “Your story is an incredible one, yet I see no reason why you would lie. I will believe you for now, so let me tell you something useful; no pony comes down here anymore, so the sewers have fallen into disrepair. You should be careful of goblins on your way.”
“That means you will help me?” Lars asked hopefully.
“No,” she replied bluntly. “Your enemy is undoubtedly the gang of thugs called the Black Daggers. Your failure against them is certain and we would not sacrifice ourselves for such a foolish cause. But I will tell you this. We do not see the Black Daggers here, so my advice is to seek them in the ruins of Old Canterlot. If it even exists.”
Carnelian gave him a smug smile and got up on her hooves, and Lars followed suit on his feet.
“One last piece of advice, outlander,” she said without turning. “We all have our reasons for staying down here. The Princess doesn’t want to face it, but things in Canterlot are not as peaceful as they appear. There are whispers of revolt in the air... some are dissatisfied with how things are going, but we prefer the peaceful way. Take care of those that think they can change things, like the Black Daggers. You won’t find them to be as friendly as us. I do hope we shall meet again.”
She turned her head and looked back at him as he stood rooted to the spot. There was something about her smile that made the hairs on his arms stand up. He freed himself from the stupor and left the camp with a slight nod as his bid farewell.
The sewer was straightforward for a long while and climbed up and twisted and turned. He started to worry that he might be leaving the city, as there seemed to be no end to the tunnel. His feet were dirty and cold, his mood still high. Eventually he came to a bend where the wall had been broken down. Bricks and rocks had been strewn across the floor to make a hole.
He stepped inside, cautious at first. The sides of the tunnel were rough and nothing but the naked stone. The cave was narrow and only slowly widened as he progressed. Here and there, the remains of a wall or a floor could be spotted peeking out of the cave surfaces.
It was dark with only an occasional torch to lead him. He stumbled blindly along until he saw a light at the end. The tunnel ended high up in a large vaulted room. Below him were the scattered remains of mansions, parts of them still intact and protruding from the ground, above him the cold uncaring rock. A flimsy catwalk of stone snaked its way to the bottom where ponies in robes sat.
They didn’t notice him as he crept down towards them. He knew the danger he was in and that he was horribly outponied, so he was careful not to make a sound. A unicorn with a hunter green coat sat at the foot of the catwalk with his back turned. The other ponies sat around in their black cloaks, chatting, preparing meals and playing games. With lightning speed, he wrapped his arms around his victim’s throat. The pony dangled from his grip, flailing desperately and gurgling.
All around him, the Black Daggers lifted their heads at the sounds. Baffled, they drew daggers from inside their robes, some holding them between clenched teeth and others with their hoofs wrapped around it. Though lacking the dexterity of fingers, the daggers seemed almost glued to the end of their limbs.
“Not a step closer,” Lars bellowed and tightened his stranglehold around the hooded pony’s throat. Instantly, they stiffened and fixed their cold eyes on him. “I have no intention of hurting anyone, I just want to know a few things. You came up to me up in the marketplace, asking me to leave the city or suffer the consequences. I demand to know why.”
From among their midst emerged a mare with a coat of glistening silver, her eyes greyish blue like ice. The others withdrew at the sight of her and slinked back into the shadows.
“Release my child immediately.” Her voice was cold and froze him to the bone.
The Black Daggers encircled him, their eyes shining in the darkness. He looked around nervously and squeezed his hostage closer.
“You! You’re the one who approached me! Please, I have a right to know.” His voice was pleading, but the mare simply looked at him.
Her horn glowed. Lars had no idea of the significance, but his hands felt like they were on fire. When he finally realised what the mare was doing, it was too late. He had to release his arms, and the Black Dagger member fell to the ground coughing. The burning sensation stopped instantly as well. The mare drew closer to him and Lars to her.
“We do not discuss the details of contracts with our clients,” she answered, not a single emotion betraying her words or her countenance. She walked nearer to him as well, her voice remaining unshakable. The circle closed around them, but no one made any threatening moves. “I asked you up there to leave or die, yet instead you came here. I am curious to know why you choose death before life.”
“You can’t tell me to leave!” Lars said desperately. “I haven’t even been here a full week before you bunch come up to me. I have a right to know!”
“You would have to speak with our employer about motive, though you will not get the contract as long as I live.”
The mare reached into the folds of her cloak and withdrew a dagger as black as night. She went closer towards Lars, who stood with a scornful expression.
“You won’t give me a fair chance to defend myself?” he asked hopefully.
“What in Equestria gave you that idea? We are bandits and mercenaries and we live only for the bits. If making you leave is not an option, then we will kill you. It’s as simple as that.”
Lars raised his hands in a fighting stance. “I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else, but I will if you won’t give me a second choice.”
“Death comes for us all, outlander. It’s not a question of if or even how, but only when,” she said and walked closer towards him.
“I am a highly trained Security Officer in the Prima City Army, and you... you are a nothing but a bandit,” he said boastfully. It only served to enrage her.
She clutched her hoof tightly around the dagger and rushed him. He stood impassively with resigned eyes. She raised the knife and aimed for his heart. He reacted instinctively and grabbed her arm. He forced the dagger out of her grip. Before she could retaliate, she found the dagger plunged into her throat.
He had his arms wrapped around her, the right one around her neck and the other clutching the dagger. She looked up at him with wide eyes full of surprise, shivering. She opened her mouth to speak, but only coughed a spray of red saliva all over his front. She slid down his legs and finally came to a rest on his feet.
He towered above the dead pony, his face devoid of emotion and hand clutching the dagger. The ponies around him slowly disappeared into the shadows until he could no longer see their eyes shining in the darkness.
The pony he had held hostage got up from where he had fallen and looked at Lars with hateful eyes. “The contract has been nullified,” he said and turned towards the edge of the room as well.
“Wait, what do you mean with nullified? I still don’t know who wants me dead.”
“You have killed the one who was bound by contract to kill you. We have no further business with you. May we never meet again.”
Before Lars could reach the pony, it was already gone. He flung the dagger as far away as he could and went back to the dead mare. A shadow of grief crossed his face as he wiped his nose and leant over her. “I do hope you will forgive me. I don’t normally steal from the dead, but you did invite me.”
His was a sad smile as he put a finger on each of her eyelids and closed them. He reached into her robe and found in the pockets a bag with clinking gold pieces and a scroll of paper. He unfolded it and read it carefully through.
“The bearer of this document is bound by contract to banish or execute Lars Leland. In accordance with the contract, the aforementioned personage will be executed in the name of C in the most expedient manner possible. All services of the Black Daggers are at the disposal of the bearer of this binding and non-disputable document.”
“C,” he muttered through gritted teeth and squeezed the paper in his hand.
CHAPTER 1 PART 2: THE CANTERLOT CONSPIRACY
The Black Daggers had a lot of secret escape tunnels. Lars had picked one at random and emerged into an alley between houses. The midday sun shone in his eyes, so he held a palm up to shield his face. His feet were cold from running around in the sewers, but the smooth stones were nice and warm topside. He flexed his bare toes and then proceeded out on to the street, stuck in an unknown part of the city.
To the side he could see an enormous castle with white walls and many twisty spires. It looked to be the best way to begin getting some answers. He had not walked far however when a guard approached him.
“Are you the human Lars Leland?” the guard asked emotionlessly.
“Do you know of any other humans?” Lars asked sarcastically.
“Come with me, outlander.” The guard turned on the spot and started towards the castle.
“Wait, am I in some kind of trouble?” Lars asked curiously and paced along.
“Only if you resist,” the guard said and flexed his shoulder blades to adjust the weight of his golden armour.
“Will you at least tell me what this is about?”
The guard did not respond, so they walked in silence up the street. Lars took the opportunity to investigate the architecture of the city. It all seemed affluent and rich in nature. The ponies living here all enjoyed a good and carefree life, protected on all sides by large walls. In the distance he could see mountains, placed behind the castle as a spectacular backdrop.
The guard passed the gates in the castle wall and took him through a majestic garden in the front yard. It was publicly accessed and there were many ponies out enjoying the good weather.
Having thought that he was going to meet the princess, Lars was a little surprised when the guard turned off the path. He was leading Lars towards a large square building hidden behind ivy. A sign in front contained a silhouette of a guard with a spear.
The first room inside was large with benches along the walls and a little garden in the middle with a fence around. Ponies sat in the lobby, reading and chatting. From there they took a flight of stairs up to the first floor where the guard placed himself next to a door.
Lars took the hint and entered on his own, first through a small dark hall that quickly got him into a large square room. The stone walls were lined with guards and an earth pony stood on a raised platform in the middle. His armour was different than the others of shape and colours, most likely to signify his higher rank. It was largely purple with gilded edges and came with a matching helmet that had a crest in the shade of his hair.
All of the guards that Lars had seen so far had been either white or greyish brown, but this pony was mint green with a mane of long, lime green hair mixed with white. A crossed crescent and sword was emblazoned on his chest. He had a sickeningly cocky smile on his lips and even laughed slightly as he met Lars halfway.
“So you’re a human!” he said warmly and looked Lars up and down. “I have never seen a creature like you before. Wait till my daughter hears about you. Do you have a name, or shall I call you human?”
“My name is Lars Leland,” he replied disgruntled and looked up at the guard.
“What a peculiar name. I am the Captain of Celestia’s Royal Guard, Crescent Heartstrings,” he said and turned back to the platform. “Everypony just calls me Loyal Crescent though.”
“Captain?” Lars asked hopefully. He patted his suit, looking for something while walking up the stairs to the platform. “Maybe you can help me then. I am looking for someone named C, mentioned in this contract. Where is it?” he asked and finally took a small scroll of paper.
“What’s this?” Crescent asked and took the note. “Ah... how nauseatingly organised of The Black Daggers. You only have a single letter, human, far from enough to make this solid evidence. There are many ponies with a name beginning with C, including Celestia. Are you willing to accuse the Princess?”
The captain crushed the paper and chucked it over his shoulder.
“Hey, that was my only clue!” Lars said angrily.
“Forget about the Black Daggers, Mr Leland, they’re only a minor nuisance,” Crescent said with a devious smile. “I do apologise for any inconvenience they may have caused you, but things in Canterlot are a little uhm... tense at the moment.”
“How do I know you’re not the C mentioned in that contract?” Lars asked and pointed an accusing finger at Crescent. “It took me less than a day to find out where the Black Daggers were holed up, yet you have done nothing about them this whole time. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were in cahoots with them.”
“Haha, Mr Leland, calm down,” Crescent said and waved a hoof. “If I send a troop of men into the sewers, the Black Daggers would do one of two things. One, they’d scamper like the rats they are and my men would waste hours for nothing. Or two, the Black Daggers would ambush and rout my soldiers. You must understand, those mercenaries are crafty and wily... or rather, they were!”
All the time while talking, the captain treated the subject like it belonged in a tea parlour and smiled ever so calmly.
“If that is all, I would have some questions for you as well,” Crescent said. Lars grunted and looked away, his fists resting by his side. “You seem unusually used to us ponies already, but my sources tell me you woke up only a few days ago. Are there many ponies where you come from, human?”
“You didn’t bring me here for small talk, did you?” Lars snapped. Crescent only shook his head and got up on his hooves again to stroll around on the platform.
“Sharp one, aren’t you? Yes, your usefulness is becoming apparent to me. Escaping a Black Dagger contract all on your own was an astonishing feat. I fear I may bore you with what I am about to propose.”
“I don’t have time for your intrigues,” Lars said with a raised voice. “I want to see the pony that brought me to the hospital, a Mrs Pie.”
Unexpectedly, Crescent gave out a derisive laughter that rang through the walls. He looked back up at Lars and smiled. “Guards, arrest this being immediately.”
The guards around them lowered their spears and pointed the stabby ends towards Lars as they marched up the platform towards him.
“On what grounds?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” Crescent said and looked away with a self-satisfied smile. “Illegal alien is a good one. Ooh, conspiring to revolt? I’m giving myself the chills here.”
The guards closed a circle around Lars. “All right fine, you’ve proven your point! What is it you want from me?”
“Hmm? I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.”
“I did not survive the Black Daggers only to be subdued by bullies in power,” Lars said through gritted teeth.
“I hope you realise the situation you are in, human. No one will miss you if you disappeared, and that is what makes you so perfect. It will only be a matter of time before Lars Leland, the first and only human in all of Equestria, will be on everypony’s lips. I can use you before you catch too much attention.”
“Fine. It can’t hurt to at least listen to what you have to say.”
With a flick of a hoof, the guards backed away again to assume their posts. “Good,” Crescent said and took a seat on the bench like nothing had happened. “I fear that the Princess is in danger; our immortal ruler, the one who raises the sun in the morning and the moon at night, she who...”
“I get it,” Lars interjected.
“Somepony is inciting the citizens of Canterlot,” Crescent said gravely with a gaze fixed on Lars. “The Princess is too kind for her own good. If she found out that there were whispers of doubt in the air, she would take it very personally.”
“And what do you propose I do?” Lars asked, his tone indicating his reservations about this puppeteering. Crescent leant forward in his seat with a half smile.
“We became aware of a possible plot when one of the conspirators died unexpectedly. You go to his home, avoid the grieving widow and find any evidence. Big or small, doesn’t matter, but I would prefer concrete evidence like a hoof-written note.”
“Don’t you think I’d stand out?” Lars asked and crossed his arms.
“It’ll be fine. Equestria is full of sentient beings, no one will think twice about you.”
“But –”
“And besides, being an outlander might aid you. Use that thing on your shoulders for thinking and I’m sure nothing bad will happen. Now off you go,” Crescent said and dismissed Lars with a wave of his hoof.
Groaning, Lars turned around and left the room again. He stormed all the way down to the doors outside where he came to stop. He hung his shoulders and sighed deeply. A guard pony came up from behind and tipped his helmet.
“I was asked by Loyal Crescent to escort you,” he commanded. “I am assuming you don’t know your way around town yet?”
“No, just lead the way,” Lars responded despairingly and drew a hand through his short blonde hair.
Lars trailed behind the guard reluctantly but compliant.
“So what IS the tie between Loyal Crescent and the Black Daggers?” Lars asked, once he felt they were far enough from the palace grounds.
“The Captain only wants what’s best for the city and for the Princess. He’s not a bad pony.”
“And what about this revolt business? Any truth to that?”
“Hard to say, outlander. The Captain can be paranoid when it comes to Celestia’s safety. Doesn’t make the threat any less real,” the guard said, neither turning his head nor showing any emotions.
“People around here seem happy enough,” Lars stated, taking notice of all the ponies they passed. None of them appeared to be much troubled in any way.
“The ponies who mutter about rebelling are those without a roof over their heads or food on their plates,” the guard explained calmly. They wandered off the main road and towards a residential part of town with big mansions. “Equestria is a land of opportunity, and those in need can get all the help they want. But that would be to accept their own failures and shortcomings. They can’t blame themselves for their bad luck, so they turn their ire towards the Princess.”
“Sounds like you’ve been giving it a lot of thought,” Lars noted.
“I’m a guard, Mr Leland, my ear is to the street. Do not let your image of our Princess be tainted by ill murmurs.”
Again they walked silently for another while until they came to a new neighbourhood. Celestia’s Reach, if street signs were to be trusted. The homes here were two-storey mansions of glistening white stone. There were no gardens attached and the residents owned no more land than what the house stood on. The guard pointed to a house closest to the wall.
“I cannot accompany you inside,” he said and looked up at Lars. “And regardless of what my captain told you, show some respect. This mare just lost a husband.”
“I’m only doing this to prove your captain wrong, not because I like tricking widows,” Lars said with little enthusiasm at the task at hand. “Anything I should know?”
“Her name is Rainbow Leap and her husband was quite the traveller. Probably why Loyal Crescent targeted him,” the guard said turned to leave. “There’s an open memorial service today. Just sneak in, find his study and get out.”
Lars nodded and went up to the door, taking a few deep breaths to clear his system of the frustration before stepping up. The door was open and he entered unnoticed. Voices carried from the room at the far end of the hall. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the loss of –” He had no intention of eavesdropping and hurried up the wooden stairs, his fingertips trailing the smooth stone.
“Now where is that study?” he mumbled and looked at the many doors around them. They were all closed and he had to slink up to each of them in turn to see what they were hiding. Starting with the first door on his left and working clockwise, he entered a large bedroom, a smaller child’s room with posters of something called “Wonderbolts” and finally a medium sized one.
He opened the door completely and entered furtively, remembering to close it behind him as well. The walls were lined with bookshelves that made the room seem smaller. The far wall had a large poster of Equestria pinned up, revealing the land to be surrounded by mountains.
As he went through all the drawers and shelves, Lars turned up empty-handed. If anything, the stallion seemed quite happy with Celestia’s rule. Lars gleaned much common knowledge by skimming through some of all the writings. He searched through the clutter of papers on the desk, ran a finger across book spines and finally opened a few drawers. He pushed aside a few quills and inkwells and retrieved a curious page of paper. It wasn’t written by the owner of this study. Initially grabbing it because it caught his intention, Lars quickly realised in surprise that he had found what he was looking for.
He put the paper into his suit and stuck a head outside to check if the coast was clear. The eulogy from below had ended and talking had erupted more sporadically. He quickly made his way back down the stairs but froze when he saw a mare sitting on the stairs outside the door. Looking over his shoulder revealed the other guests to still be gathered in the living room at the end of the hall. He straightened his bodysuit and his hair and calmly stepped outside. As expected, the unicorn looked up at the sound of him approaching.
“You must be Rainbow Leap,” he said quietly and wringed his hands nervously. “I was a friend of your husband.”
“I’m sorry, outlander, but who or what are you?” she asked and dabbed her eyes with a rag. Her coat was purple and her short-trimmed mane was rainbow-coloured.
“I’m a human, ma’am... Lars Leland.” He extended a hand. She extended her hoof, and they shook. “I wish that I could have come under more favourable conditions, but the time was never right.”
“Oh my, have you come a long way?” she asked.
“A fair bit, ma’am, but I dropped everything I had when I heard about your husband,” he said with a little smile
“Then stay a bit,” she said and returned his smile. “I was just about to serve the tea when I felt the need for fresh air.”
“I really must be going, ma’am. I only came here to extend my condolences.”
She clutched the rag between her hoofs and wailed into it. It tore Lars from the inside so he stepped down on the ground again and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“M- my husband was a good stallion. He did not deserve to be trampled by an airavata,” she said and heaved. She turned to look at Lars with reddened eyes. “What am I supposed to do with our daughter? He always said he would teach to fly when she got older! I... I just didn’t know what to do.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I sent her off to Cloudsdale. I’m not a bad mother, am I?”
“You made a tough decision under a lot of stress, ma’am. Your daughter will come to accept this even if she doesn’t agree with you.”
Mrs Leap padded the hand on her shoulder and got up again. “Thank you, outlander. I feared all sorts of strange creatures from his travels would come here if I made the ceremony open. I’m glad to see he did not die with a life wasted. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay for a spell?”
“I’ve made my peace,” he said soberly and wandered away from her. She went back inside her house again.
Lars almost made it out of the neighbourhood before the guard approached him again.
“I had to make sure Rainbow Leap wouldn’t spot me. So, didn’t find anything I presume?” the guard asked.
“I don’t know. What do you make of this?” Lars asked and handed over the pamphlet.
The guard took it in his hoof and began to chuckle merrily after only a few lines. He was downright laughing by the time he was done.
“I was right to assume that this is satire then?” Lars asked and smiled broadly.
“Oh yes, and quite a good one,” the guard said and wiped his eyes. “If this is the worst that we have to fear, then I’d say we don’t have a problem at all.”
“I just hope Loyal Crescent sees it that way,” Lars said wryly and took back the pamphlet.
“I’m sure he will. What’s the worst that can happen?”
CHAPTER 1 PART 3: SATIRE COLUMNISTS
“This is an outrage!” Loyal Crescent said and threw the piece of paper to the ground in an overly dramatic fashion. “Find the ponies behind this smut and make them pay this instant!”
“It’s just harmless satire,” Lars said cheerfully.
“You don’t think I know that?” Crescent flared. “I know that, you know that, all of the guards in this room know that, but do you honestly think that everypony will realise that? This... this... this insult to our dear Princess who does so much for us! I will not stand idly by it. Here, this should cover your expenses. Shut up the makers of this filth any way you see fit.”
Crescent took a pouch from his armour and flung it at Lars. He just barely managed not to drop it with so little warning and so much force. Inside he heard coins moving around and a closer look revealed all of them to be worth a hundred bits each.
“How many coins are in here?” Lars asked shocked.
“Thirty,” Crescent said and Lars looked up in surprise. “Naturally, the city spares no expenses when it comes to justice. Disperse your newfound wealth as you see fit. Kill them all and keep the money or spend it all on bribes, just get it done.”
Lars nodded somewhat befuddled, but looked up at Crescent in annoyance. “Look, I already played games with a widow, isn’t that enough?” he asked, clutching the pouch hard and looking up defiantly at Crescent.
“I think you mistake this for a charity organisation, Mr Leland. While I am busy making arrangements for your stay here in Equestria, I expect some payback. And since you have no coin, one or two services isn’t too much to demand, is it? Now be off, and do not come back until you have succeeded. Do not dare to fail your mission or run off. My guards are everywhere and they will hunt you down mercilessly.”
Lars picked up the pamphlet again and made his leave with the money secured inside his suit. It disappeared, leaving no lumps or other indications.
The guard from before, or who Lars assumed to be the guard from before, awaited him by the entrance again.
“Still escorting you,” the guard said. “It went as well as I had predicted, then?”
“Yeah, now he wants us to find the authors,” Lars replied and waved the pamphlet around. “God, it’s just one thing after the other with that pony.”
“Maybe I can help.” The guard took the paper out of Lars’ hand. “I think I saw something when I read this earlier. Where was it? Ah... do you see this seashell here?”
Lars squinted. “This little smudge here? What of it?”
“I know of only one pony with the opportunity to print these and who signs his work with this mark. I can’t imagine he actually wrote them, but he has definitely been distributing them,” the guard said and handed the pamphlet back. “No one knows his name, but everyone just calls him Regal Stallion.”
“Great. Let’s get this over with then,” Lars said and rubbed his hands together. “Where can we find him?”
“No one knows,” the guard said and shook his head. “But he’s quite the bookworm, so our best bet will be a bookseller.”
Lars gave a defeated sigh and hung his shoulder, but the guard continued with a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t give up yet, Mr Leland. Canterlot only has a handful of places that actually sell books. Most other ponies prefer the expansive library at the castle,” he said encouragingly and tossed his head towards the entrance.
They visited a few places before getting lucky on their third try, a rather anonymous place simply called “Star Charmer’s Books.” As with all the other places, Lars had to enter alone while the guard remained outside.
The inside had a few shelves with books along the walls and a wooden counter in the middle. The proprietor was a strong-looking mare with a raspberry red coat and short chocolate brown mane with bangs down her face.
“Star Charmer of Star Charmer’s Books, how may I help you?” she asked in a bored tone.
“I’m looking for Regal Stallion,” Lars stated and placed his hands on the counter. “I hear he likes books.”
“Then maybe you should check the library,” Star Charmer said sarcastically.
“This stallion isn’t the kind of pony to go around in the public,” Lars continued and took a single hundred bit coin from his pocket and placed it on the counter. “I suspect he may be hiding in a bookshop somewhere.”
Star Charmer looked intently at the coin. “What do you want with him?” she asked nervously.
“Just talk. He’s not in any kind of trouble,” Lars ensured. Star Charmer looked up at him, biting her lip. She swiped the coin from the desk and looked around her.
“He’s just up the stairs,” she finally said. Lars nodded in acknowledgement and went up stairs behind the counter.
“A hundred bits must be worth more than I thought to make someone change their mind so quickly,” he mused.
Upstairs had a bed and a few more copies of various books. At a table sat a stallion, pouring over a book from the light of a candle. Blinds were covering the loft window.
“You’re Regal Stallion?” Lars commanded, and the pony turned around with a smile.
He was an elderly unicorn with a light brown coat and a short, bright blonde mane. “I am,” he said serenely. “How may I help you?”
“Did you write this?” Lars asked calmly and took the pamphlet from his pocket. Regal took it with his magic and scrutinised it.
“This? No. I only wish I could write something as brilliant as this, but I have been distributing it, yes. Quite a marvellous piece of satire, don’t you think?” Regal asked and looked up at Lars with dreamy eyes.
“As funny as it is, the city has no need for things like that right now,” Lars said sternly and pocketed the pamphlet again. “You need to stop producing this.”
“Come now, my friend, Canterlot always needs humour,” Regal said and gave a pompous laugh.
“It won’t be so funny when someone takes these writings seriously,” Lars said staidly. He took a coin from his pocket and placed it down on the desk. “Now tell me, who wrote it?”
“Hmph,” Regal said and looked up at Lars with chiding eyes. “I hope you’re not trying to bribe me? I am far elevated beyond such mortal needs.”
“You can accept this nicely and answer my question,” Lars said calmly.
“Or else what!” Regal mocked.
Before he could register what happened, Lars had forced him up against the opposite wall with his left arm pressed against his throat.
“Or you and I are going to have a problem. I will ask this only once more... who. Wrote. This?” Lars squeezed even harder, his calm eyes only adding to Regal Stallion’s fretful panic.
“We can work this out like gentlecolts,” Regal said and laughed nervously, then wet his lips. “The authors are a couple of students at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”
“Thank you,” Lars said and Regal fell limply to the ground.
On his way out, Lars took the coin into his hands again and noticed that Regal looked at it coveting. Lars flipped it up on the air, grabbed it and pocketed it.
“You took your time. Did you find anything?” the guard said and came up behind Lars.
“Yeah, they’re students at a place called Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Can you believe it?”
“Ha, they are foals?” he asked and chuckled. “I should have seen that one coming. Come, the school isn’t far away.”
The guard went out on his job with enthusiasm, and Lars trailed just behind him.
“Uhm... I feel bad not knowing your name,” Lars said after a while and scratched his neck.
“I prefer to keep it that way,” the guard said relaxed. “The whole reason for our anonymity is to protect our families. Only the captain needs to stand out to signify his status.”
“Huh. So I suppose that’s why you all look so similar too?”
“Indeed. The magic of our armours change our appearance so we all look similar. It would be impossible otherwise to find enough identical ponies to fill all the posts,” he said.
“So your uniform ensures identity,” Lars said nostalgically. “You know, everyone is identified by their attire where I come from. Your place in society can be seen on the clothes you wear.”
“Sounds oppressive,” the guard commented. “Where are you from? I don’t think I’ve ever even heard about humans until last week.”
“It’s quite a different place, I tell you that. If I knew where it was in relation this place, I might be able to find it again. I mean, my home isn’t that bad. Everyone in Prima City wears nice, clean clothes. Some are red or blue, and still others are... deep purple. Without my boots though, this suit is meaningless.”
The guard looked down at Lars’ many toes. “So you only wear clothes so others can identify you?”
“Eh, hehe. It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said and scratched his cheek. “We humans don’t have a nice coat like you to protect us from the cold.”
“Well, you do look a bit like an overgrown mole rat,” the guard said and chuckled. “So don’t you worry about getting home?”
“I am,” Lars said and smiled a little sadly. “But I haven’t even been here a week. It’s too early to panic yet.”
“Clever. I don’t think I could do it.”
“Well it’s already been months for since I last saw my family,” Lars said and looked up at the sky. “I had been away from them for a while before coming.”
Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns was an enormous area with a garden, many spires and even more buildings of all kinds, placed close to the castle. The guard took him through a grassy park where many ponies sat with their books and an occasional teacher informed his students. A path cut through it and led upstairs to a tall tower in which older unicorns greeted them politely.
“This school has its own newspaper,” the guard informed him and took a hasty look around. “I think the press is somewhere beyond here.”
They cleared the tower and came to a new plaza of sparkling white stone. Smaller buildings with two or three stories stood in a circle around it with grass between. Acting on memory, the guard took Lars to the right where a pair of basement doors was visible at the side of a building. He opened them and then entrusted Lars with his mission.
Inside, Lars found four young unicorns working hectically. They ceased their activities the moment that they noticed him, curious about what kind of creature had just entered. On tables scattered around the room sat copies of a school newspaper with not a hint of any satire.
“Can I help you?” one of them asked. His coat was greyish blue like his medium length, silken mane.
“I’m looking for the authors of this,” Lars said and took the pamphlet from his pockets. The unicorn inspected it and chuckled lightly, while the others warily retreated.
“This... this is quite humorous,” the unicorn said and hoofed it back. “I’d love to find out of who wrote this as well. He or she would be more than welcome to write for me.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Lars noticed how everypony else slinked away in trepidation.
“So you’re telling me you don’t know?” Lars asked and crossed his arms. The unicorn nodded happily. “You see, I already know that’s a lie. I spoke with Regal Stallion, and he quite clearly told me that YOU have been writing these.”
“Regal Stallion? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard!” the unicorn said and chortled.
“You’re one to speak, Watermelon Paradise,” one of the other unicorns said.
“S-shut up! I told you to call me Paradise,” he responded angrily, then looked back at Lars. “I’m sorry that I can’t help you, but you really shouldn’t take the advice of shady characters.”
“I never said he was shady,” Lars said and glared down at Watermelon.
He folded his ears back in surprise and started to sweat slightly. “Well... he sounds shady.”
“Really? Because to me he sounds regal,” Lars said calmly, not breaking eye contact. “Stop producing those lies, no matter how exaggerated and comical they are. You are endangering yourself, your family and all of Canterlot.”
Paradise bit his lip and looked away for a moment, before slamming his hoof into the ground adamantly. “It’s just satire!” he said defensively. “I’m just so tired of ponies speaking ill of the Princess that I wanted to make light of it!”
“I can see where you’re coming from, but there will be someone who does not see the fun in this. They will use your prints to found their paranoia.”
“No one could possibly take it seriously,” he said panicky. “I mean, Celestia stealing unicorn magic to stay young forever? It’s ridiculous!”
“This is beyond me. Stop now and I won’t make a case of it. You’ll find yourself in serious trouble otherwise.”
“It’s just not fair,” he said and looked at the ground.
“Come off it,” a female unicorn said consolingly. “You were the one telling me you had no ideas for issue #2.”
“Good. We’re done here and I don’t want to see any more fliers like those anymore, understood?” Lars asked, and Watermelon gave a snivelling nod.
The guard wasn’t waiting for him outside, nor inside the tower. It wasn’t until Lars got back out into the city proper that they met again.
“Seems like you resolved this peacefully,” he said and looked up at Lars.
“He came to his senses,” Lars simply said and looked up at the late midday sky. Plenty of white, fluffy clouds.
Crescent was likewise satisfied and beamed down at him from his bench.
“You took care of my demands with not a single loss of life. Not bad, human.”
“An honour,” Lars said insincerely from the foot of the platform and looked up at the captain. “Are we done now?”
“For now. Here, a reward for a job well done,” Crescent said and chucked a bundle by his hoofs towards Lars. It landed with an unmistakable metallic clink at his feet.
“This is?” Lars asked curiously and picked it up. Unwrapping it revealed a large black claymore with a single red stripe running down the blade. The crossguard looked like a razor-sharp bat.
“Its name is Luna’s Oath... you do know how to handle a sword, don’t you?” Crescent asked with some concern as Lars weighed the sword in his hands.
“As a security officer in the Prima City Army, I’ve been trained to utilise anything as a weapon,” he said and swung it around to test it. “Trained opponents may have an advantage, but I won’t have a problem against creatures or inexperienced individuals.”
“Glad to hear it. The Princess herself endowed it with her blessings long ago, so take care of it,” he said proudly.
“Thank you, but... this hasn’t really brought me any closer to finding out why I’m here,” Lars said wistfully and lowered the tip, and his eyes, to the ground.
“As much as it pains me to let you go, the court wishes to see you,” Crescent said and took a scroll from underneath his armour. Lars looked up interestedly. “Don’t think this is the last you’ve seen of me, but a Mrs Pie wishes to see you.”
I’ve been trying to find out how I got to Equestria and why I woke up in a hospital in Canterlot. My progress however is continually being halted. When I was discharged, I was attacked by a robed pony from a gang called the Black Daggers. I managed to kill their leader, but the others slipped away from me. I hoped that the captain of the guard, Loyal Crescent, could help me but he just exploited me to run a few errands for him. I wish only to find a way to return to my wife and daughter. Hopefully Mrs Pie, who originally brought me to the hospital, can be of some help. There is just one thing I have to take care of first before visiting her at the castle.
CHAPTER 2 PART 1: THE GOBLIN ARMY
“Are you coming with?” Lars asked and lifted the trapdoor.
“You go alone,” the guard replied with a chuckle. “I think I can trust you enough not to run away.”
Down the ladder awaited the sewers he had visited once before. He winced as he put his bare feet on the cold floor. The ponies living there looked at him in surprise and remained silently observant except for one mare. She got up on her hooves and approached Lars, stammering as she looked him up and down.
“O-o-outlander! We had not expected to see you again!” the dark purple pegasus said.
“Hello, Carnelian Tiara,” Lars said and strode past her with long steps towards their camp. The other ponies remained seated and whispered.
“So what brings you back among Canterlot’s poor?” Carnelian asked sarcastically. She went past him and sat down on a bedroll. Lars remained standing and looked at her seriously.
“Why are you all down here?” he asked firmly, his eyes boring into hers and his arms crossing across his chest.
The whispering ceased. Carnelian folded her ears back, but quickly gathered herself. “I thought I explained it to you this morning. We are protesting Celestia’s reign, not through violence or words, but by disenfranchising ourselves.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he rebuked and looked out at them. “I have been here not even a week, and I can already tell this place is much better than what I came from. You have plenty of opportunities, all you need to do is ask. So once again, what are you all doing down here?”
An elderly unicorn mare with a dark purple coat and thinning mint green hair got up on her hooves. “After my husband died, I simply couldn’t maintain the shop any longer. I had nowhere to go or anything to do, so I came here.”
From a pocket in his deep purple suit, Lars took a clinking leather pouch and tossed it down among them. The string came undone and a few hundred bit coins spilled out. The poor opened their eyes in stark surprise.
“I am sorry to hear that, but surely there’s an old folks home that can take care of you? Or a stipend? And what about the rest of you? Regardless of what drove you down here, please take a few coins.” Lars walked around the campfire with his arms in the air, pointing at the beggars at random. They avoided his gaze, but their eyes were hungry for the treasure he had brought them. One of them even licked her lips greedily. With no pony moving a muscle, Lars instead bowed down and grabbed one of the coins. He held it out before the old mare and continued. “If you’re too prideful to ask for handouts, then steal it from me.”
“Disregarding how you got a hold of this much wealth,” Carnelian said angrily and jabbed him in the chest, pushing him back. “Why are you simply giving it away?”
“I have no need of this much. I’m a simple soldier and I would never be able to spend it all.”
The old mare snatched the coin with her magic, biting into it and shaking it. When she was satisfied, she took another few coins and made her way up the ladder. By her example, the other ponies proceeded to take a few coins for themselves as well until only Carnelian and four newly minted coins were left. Tears trickled down her cheeks.
“I started this society because I was alone,” she explained sobbing. “And now thanks to you, I’ll be all alone again.”
“Don’t you have any family?” Lars asked and stroked her magenta mane.
“No! I don’t have anyone!” She slapped his hand off and turned her back on him. “I came to Canterlot because I thought it would be different, but it’s all just the same no matter where I go.”
“Everyone has someone,” Lars said consolingly and came up next to her.
“I only have a cousin in Ponyville and she would never accept a vagrant like me.”
“You won’t know until you try. Come on, it’s got to be better than living in a sewer,” he said and put a hand on her back.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” she shouted and went back to the camp. Hesitantly, she took the last couple of coins and went up the ladder as well. Lars shook his head and took the empty pouch with him back up.
The guard pony waited for him in the shadows of the wall and approached him as soon as his dirty blonde hair emerged from the hole.
“It’s the strangest thing, outlander. Ten beggars just came out of the sewers with numerous hundred bit coins in their mouths,” the guard said in mild surprise, his light purple eyes gleaming in the sun.
“I think it’s about time we got to the castle?” Lars interjected with a sheepish smile and looked up at the spires close by. The guard chortled and Lars couldn’t suppress a faint laugh himself either.
They had walked for a while when the guard turned his head towards him. “What’s it like where you come from? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Well, where to begin?” Lars asked to himself and scratched his cheek. “I come from a city called Prima. Might as well be a whole country – or a continent. It’s a little too peaceful to my tastes so that’s why I became a soldier.”
“Then how did you end up here? I can’t recall having ever heard of humans before.”
“Now that is one question I can’t answer,” he said and looked up to the sky, a strange light shining from them. “But Prima City initiated a space project to see if we could colonise space where I was the chief of security. The only way I could have gotten from there to here would be the emergency pod. But that would necessitate an emergency, and that’s what’s really bothering me.”
They wandered into a residential neighbourhood with small homes closely squeezed together. The ponies wandering these streets weren’t wearing any clothes, but their mane styles and how their coats shone suggested some form of wealth.
“Colonising space...” The guard trailed off with a strained puzzled look on his face. Lars could almost hear the gears turning inside his head. “How could such a feat ever be accomplished?”
“Lots and lots of money, I assure you. I just wish I could remember what happened or find a way home.”
“You have family waiting for you, yes?”
Lars nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but a loud bang interrupted him. He recoiled with hands over his head as a ponyhole cover crashed down into the cobbled road. A long-fingered hand emerged along with a pungent odour of sweat. A green bipedal creature grunted as it escaped the sewers. All around them, ponyhole covers were sent heavenward and more of the creatures lurked up from the depths. Their small hands clutched bucklers and clubs, their bodies covered in burlap and strips of leather.
“Goblins,” the guard said incredulously and grabbed the sword strapped to his waist.
Lars followed suit and took the claymore strapped to his back like a knapsack. The creatures were savage and lacked any refined fighting style. They easily fell to his sword even as it was his first time using it. The more the two of them killed however, the more came up from the sewers. The goblins scampered around disorderly and swung their clubs over head. They tried to protect themselves, but their weapons and shields were brittle and broke after taking only a few hits.
After a while, the creatures had lost too many of their own and decided to flee. They left their dead and in most cases their equipment as well in their eagerness to get back down. The guard pony sheathed his sword again and fell to his knees, panting and sweating.
“Are you all right?” Lars asked and went to the pony’s side, but he simply waved him off.
“Just had the wind knocked out of me,” the guard replied with a strained smile. His armour was heavily dented and his coat covered in green blood. “Please, we need to follow them. I’ve never seen goblins attack the city so blatantly before.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it alone,” Lars said gravely.
“ALONE he says, but does he know what he will find down there? They’ll kill you. Please, at least wait for reinforcement!”
“I’ll be fine,” Lars said and thumped his nose. “My suit may not be metal, but it’s stronger than yours. You stay here and rest.”
The guard tried to stop him, but pain in his side grounded him. Lars strode towards one of the ponyholes. Frightened ponies followed him with their eyes out of doorways and window cracks as disappeared into Canterlot’s underground. The wooden ladder was mushy and green from algae but just barely held his weight all the way down to the cool stone.
The sewers were old and a cave in nearly blocked the ladder as well, but it was still being used. Water seeped through the rocks and trickled along a groove in the floor. Lars hurried along, enticed by the sound of footfalls ahead. The tunnel came to large room where it deposited its water inside a large grate in the middle. Other tunnels did the same and his eyes darted from possibility to possibility. Lars would have been lost were it not for the goblins, catching a glimpse of them just as they rounded a corner.
The goblins could squeeze through much smaller openings than he. When they crept through additional cave ins, Lars just had to widen the holes and when they crawled through fences, he had to open the heavy iron doors. He often treaded water as well and banged into wooden crates left carelessly around, but still he could not catch up with them.
The road gave way to natural caves carved by tiny hands. He was once again visiting forgotten parts of Old Canterlot. Walls and floors peeked out from under layers of stone and dirt. Torches had been placed only sparingly and cast the room in semidarkness. The goblins were just ahead of him, spitting incomprehensible insults at him whenever he got close enough to them.
One of them broke off from the group, swinging its club overhead with frenzy. Lars grabbed his sword from his back and brought it down right into the goblin’s skull. Its leather cap was no protection and with a sickening crunch, the goblin toppled backwards, dead.
The narrow tunnels gave way to large natural caverns. The goblins sat in large indentations around small fires and cooking spits. They grabbed their clubs and charged him, but he parried with his sword and sliced them up.
He crossed the stamped dirt and came to another long tunnel, in the middle of which sat two unicorns. They looked most surprised to see a human all the way down here, all the more at not having seen a human before. They chose to flee and scampered down the tunnel. He gave chase, but a deep growl ahead stopped him.
A very large goblin charged up the tunnel towards him. It carried no weapons in its hands, but its arms were muscular and its nails sharps. It wore only a loincloth, a right pauldron and a helmet.
“Oh bugger,” Lars said and clutched his sword tightly in both hands.
The goblin lumbered towards him with a huge fist raised above its head. He raised the sword above him and slashed at the goblin, but it grabbed the edge with its right hand and then swiped at him with the left. Lars was knocked off his feet and into the cave wall. The goblin quickly took advantage of the situation and grabbed him tightly. It smiled maliciously as it began to squeeze tightly.
It released him before it could finish the job. The world was swirling around him, but he noticed an arrow protruding from its shoulder. It grunted in pain as guards streamed down the tunnel. The goblin lost interest in Lars and pounded along the ground. More arrows pelted it before a guard overpowered it with a spear to the face.
“Thanks. You saved me in the nick of time,” Lars said and smiled as he got up again.
“Think nothing of it, outlander. I can’t imagine what stirred these goblins to attack, and in broad daylight even,” a guard replied and helped him up on his feet.
“I may be of some assistance in answering that. Two unicorns just fled down the tunnel and they were not happy to see me.” He pointed in the direction.
“Ponies? Training goblins? Now I’ve heard everything,” the guard and gave a spiteful laugh until heavy feet could be heard trampling. “Speaking of Discord.” The guard lowered his spear again and pointed it into the darkness. Another large goblin lumbered towards them, bigger than the last and even more savage-looking. Lars lifted his sword, but the guard cut in front of him.
“You run after those unicorns. We shall take care of this one.”
Behind him, two earth ponies reared to use their front hoofs to draw the string of their bows, and an additional three readied their swords. Lars nodded and ran ahead. The goblin tried to grab him, but he slid between its feet. It turned to chase him, but got second thoughts with arrows in its back.
The tunnel ended in a crude little home carved into the rock, modestly decorated with wooden furniture. The two unicorns flinched at the sight him and knocked over chairs as they got up from the table. They clutched each other and backed up against the slanting walls, but there was nowhere for them to go. Lars had the claymore lowered at ground level and went no further into the room than halfway.
“Please don’t hurt us,” they both begged and fell to the ground.
“Relax, I just want to know what you are doing down here,” Lars asked and sheathed his sword completely. He raised his hands as a sign of faith and the two unicorns relaxed their shoulders.
The oldest one had a coat of raspberries and cautiously looked up at up Lars through his hoofs. “We were training the goblins, outlander.”
“Training them? Why would want to you train them?” Lars said almost chuckling.
The two ponies traded nervous glances. The younger pony had a coat of indigo and looked strong from hard work. “He would kill us if we told you,” he whispered.
Lars gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed his brow. “Loyal Crescent put you up to this, didn’t he?”
“Y-yes, how did you know?” the older one stammered nervously.
“Look, Loyal Crescent will deny any involvement in this so just tell the guards that you were captured and the goblins forced you to work for them.”
“Thank you so much,” the younger one said and threw himself to the ground before Lars. “We told him that goblins couldn’t be controlled and they would be useless for securing the tunnels and caves under the city.”
The older unicorn was otherwise inclined and hobbled towards Lars with an interested gleam in his eyes. “My grandson and I study the fine science of biology and never in my whole life have I ever seen anything like you. If you would satisfy an old stallion’s curiosity, may I ask you a few questions?”
“I have an appointment up at the castle I would rather like to keep,” Lars said and pointed towards the entrance, but the old unicorn simply shook his head.
“Some other time then! But don’t be too long,” the old stallion said.
“Aren’t you at all afraid of me though?” he asked and looked at them in turn. “When I first saw talking ponies, I nearly jumped out of my good skin.”
“There are many sentient races in Equestria,” the younger one said and grabbed Lars hand. “You grow accustomed to it pretty fast.”
“But do tell us,” the older one said and grabbed Lars cheeks. “Are you the only one here or were you a part of a larger group? We’d like to have a few more individuals to study, preferably of diverse gender and age.”
Lars relaxed in his shoulders and nearly slumped to the floor. “I...” he said and swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’m the only one here. My daughter and my wife and my friends... I don’t know where they are or how I’m supposed to reach them.”
The older one released him with a sympathetic smile. “If you had a way of coming here, there will most assuredly be a way back as well.”
“I hope so, I really do.”
Lars cracked his back and waved goodbye to the two unicorns. He passed the corpses of two huge goblins and crawled up into the sunlight once more. Nurse ponies with heart-emblazoned caps tended to the few injured. One of them approached him as soon as he broke through to the outside.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, but before Lars could reply, the nurse pressed against his ribcage. “Hmm. Nothing broken, just a little bruised. You’ll be sore for a while, so don’t overdo it.”
The nurse left him again. He looked at the spot before clutching it in pain. The uniform was intact, but the material was frayed and dirty. Lars looked around to see his friend, but none of the guard ponies paid any attention to him.
“Hard to recognise me without the armour?”
Lars turned to see a purple unicorn with a slick, light grey mane. His sides were bandaged and slightly crimson.
“You’re...?” Lars asked, to which the strong unicorn nodded.
“I think I can trust you, Mr Leland, a privilege I don’t allow often. The name’s Butterscotch Delight, baker in my free time.” Butterscotch extended a hoof. Lars shook it and nodded. “Come on, I still have to get you to the castle.”
CHAPTER 2 PART 2: THE POD
Lars had seen a lot of grand things in his own city and time, but the interior of Castle Canterlot simply took his breath away. The entrance room was enormous and the ceiling far away. Red carpets slithered across the floors out to side corridors and up stairs. By a table next to the entrance sat an elderly unicorn with a shawl draped across her light purple coat and her aging pink mane tied into a bun. So fixed on the interior was his eyes that he didn’t notice her.
“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” the old pony said with a smile and adjusted her glasses.
Lars turned around and stared at her for a moment, cocking his head in wonder. He tried to place her somewhere, but his face was as blank as his memory. Realisation then dawned on him and he pointed a shaking finger at her. “Y-you’re the pony that brought me to the hospital,” he said with certainty. She nodded her head.
“I wasn’t sure when I pulled you out of that pod whether to bring you to a vet or a hospital. I’m still not sure I made the right choice,” she chuckled and folded her hooves on the table. “You call yourself a human?”
“Yes, ma’am. My name is Lars Leland,” he said and stood rigid. “You pulled me out of a pod?”
“Call me Granny Pie,” she said. “Yes, I was taking my usual walk in the caves beneath the cities. A few days ago I noticed a part I had never seen before and there you were, sleeping peacefully.”
“What were you doing down there? Aren’t you afraid of the goblins?”
“Good heavens no,” she said with a gleam to her eyes and to her crooked smile. “Those little pests can’t stand the sound of my singing. And I’ve even been honoured several times in my younger days for my voice.”
“Please.” Lars slammed his hands down on the wooden desk, making Granny Pie recoil. “I must find that pod. It could tell me everything I need to know.”
“All right, all right,” she said and then cleared her throat. “But first things first, Mr Leland. On behalf of Princess Celestia, I bid you welcome to Equestria as the ambassador of your race. A room has been provided for you in the castle. In addition, fifteen thousand bits will be at your disposal for the duration of your stay here.”
“Fifteen thousand?” he exclaimed, making an entering unicorn couple give him a funny look. “I appreciate the offer but I... I’m just a humble soldier, not a man of politics.”
“I didn’t tell you to spend it all in one go,” she reproached at his outburst, but quickly reverted to a smile. “Now, Mr Leland, would you like me to escort you to your chambers?”
“I really need to find that pod. I wouldn’t get any rest before,” Lars said with a sense of urgency. Granny Pie sighed.
“Very well, but we need to be careful down there. The goblins have been on edge lately.”
“Yes, I wonder why,” Lars mused. “And that’s why I need to go alone. It wouldn’t be sane to bring an old mare with me.”
“Who’re you calling old?” Granny Pie said and jumped down from her seat. “I tell you, my son only just had his second foal. And how will you find that pod of yours without me to help you, hmm? The tunnels under the castle are far more expansive than you could imagine.”
“You could give me a map or describe the way for me. I got top marks in tracking in the days,” he stated, but Granny Pie quickly cut in.
“There aren’t any maps of the sewers, least of all of the caves. You would be wandering for days before finding the exit again.”
“I get the picture,” he said and raised his arms to calm her down. “Just... let me do the combat, okay?”
She nodded and quickly took the lead. She escorted him from the entrance hall through doorways and stairs and small corridors until they reached a basement storeroom. A trapdoor not unlike ones he had previously encountered stood here, hidden between crates and sacks. The subsequent ladder carried them down to another part of the city sewers, where a thin film of water ran in a wide groove.
“It’s so peaceful down here,” she said and looked around her. “You can just barely hear the babbling of the water.”
“I thought it would smell worse too,” Lars added.
They walked at a leisurely pace set by Granny Pie. She took her time to enjoy the surroundings, despite Lars’ impatience. With nothing to do, he began to nervously caress the hilt of his sword.
These tunnels were regularly maintained and water ran quietly next to them. The walls and surfaces were clean of moist and still brilliantly red. They walked for a long while, Lars continuously scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. Their only encounter along the way was rats scurrying around on tiny feet. The sewers didn’t stay straight for very long before abruptly shooting up or turning 180 degrees. Many rooms contained grates in the floor with several branches.
Granny Pie always knew where to go and didn’t stop until they reached a hole on their right. The bricks had been smashed and pulled with great force, some tossed far away and all of them spread across the floor and even into the water. Granny Pie stepped into the hole and they continued ahead through carved caves. Lars often had to stoop to remain unharmed from the low-hanging ceiling. The room they ended up in, however, had plenty of space and was a lot smoother.
“It’s just up there,” she said and pointed to a dirt mound. Torch light streamed out of an opening on top. Something had caught Lars’ attention though. “Are you still with me, Mr Leland?”
“Ah, yes, sorry,” he said and followed her again. He stole a last glimpse over his shoulder. “Is that... a steel door?” he pondered.
“Oh... goodness,” Granny Pie said from inside the next room, to which Lars hurried up.
“What’s wrong?” he asked nervously and came up next to her, but stopped up as speechlessly at her.
His pod was there all right, encapsulated in a large silver bubble whose hatch stood open. Around it however was gathered five ponies in brown-yellow robes. They stared back at them, but threw themselves to the ground upon seeing Lars.
“He’s here,” one of them said. “Our saviour is finally here.”
“May I ask what this is about?” Lars asked confused and went inside.
“You have come from the skies, just like our prophet said you would,” another said.
“And now you must kill Celestia so that we may have our future back!”
“What? What are you on about?” Lars asked, unable to keep back his laughter.
“A saviour will come from the skies and give us back that which Celestia stole from us,” a white-haired unicorn said dramatically. “Technology...” he added in a whisper.
“Seems like you’ve got some new friends,” Granny Pie said and sniggered.
“Why would you think I would want to help you with all of that, if I even could?” he asked rationally.
“We do not question the words of Swirl the Smart,” a brown-haired one said. “Before his death, he always said that a saviour would –”
“Yes, I get the point,” Lars said irritated and rubbed his temple. “Would you all just leave me alone?”
“Most certainly, respected saviour, of course,” they all chimed, but made no moves to leave.
He was not about to argue with these ponies and instead stepped inside his pod. It was round on the outside, but square inside. The protective bubble was nothing more than an advanced eggshell protecting the vital, inner cryochamber. The hatch was opened on it as well, and excess gasses had escaped to make the floor icy cold. It was almost unbearable with his bare feet, but he would not stay long.
His hand felt the soft interior of the bed, lifting the mattress to check the underside. He went down on all fours and scoured the floor, but there was not much surface to investigate. He exited the pod again and looked at the only six entities that had been in there before him.
“Did any of you take something from this pod?” he asked firmly. He was getting annoyed with how answers kept eluding him, and it became apparent in his tone.
“No, most honoured one, we haven’t even dared to go inside,” the five robed ponies all said.
“What are you looking for?” Granny Pie asked and walked up to him.
“It’s this little green button thing,” Lars explained irritably, showing with his fingers just how small it was. “It’s vital that I get it back.”
“Well maybe you dropped it while I dragged you out of here?”
“No, we would have seen it on the way. ARGH, I’ll never find out what happened!” he said and scratched his head frantically.
“How about we go back now? I’ll talk with the Princess, and you get some rest. And a shower wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Sounds good. I’m positively beat.”
“Most honoured one, you can’t leave us yet!” one of the ponies said, jumping to grab Lars’ leg. “We have waited all of our lives for your coming. We beg of you, guide us!”
Lars looked down at the pony with most sympathetic eyes. “I remember young recruits like you, worshipping their superiors like gods. I was one of them myself. But my name is Lars Leland and there is nothing special about me. Please, back off.” His tone was insistent without being harsh.
The robed pony got up on her feet while the others ambled closer. There was a gleam of madness in their eyes. Lars pushed Granny Pie behind him and drew his sword.
“Don’t do something we’re all going to regret,” he said firmly, holding the claymore tightly in his fists.
“You have to be the saviour! It can only be you that he told us would come!” They giggled maniacally as they moved like a unified tide of malice. Lars had to swallow a lump but remained steadfast with a secure grip on his weapon.
“No sudden moves,” he whispered to Granny Pie. “Just back away slowly.”
“You got a plan?” she whispered back at him calmly.
“No. But I don’t want anyone unarmed to get hurt.”
He backed away from them, drawing them closer to the entrance. They followed him in a paced tempo, certain of their superiority. They walked side by side, closer and closer towards Lars. He stopped just outside the room and pointed the claymore straight at them. Before they could realise what he intended to do, he swung his sword wildly overhead. The claymore sparkled as its edge cut into the rock and soil. The whole place trembled, barely giving him time to tread back before the roof gave in and sealed the chamber off.
“We should let the guards know of this. They probably don’t have long before their air runs out.”
CHAPTER 2 PART 3: THE RING ON THE SKELETON
There was a knock on the door, making Lars shift in his bed.
“Are you decent?”
He only moaned as he got up on his feet. Granny Pie entered with a tray of warm soup in her mouth, placing it on a desk. Drowsily, Lars said down and took the spoon.
“Oh my, you look tired. Haven’t you slept well?” Granny asked and sat down on his bed. Lars allowed the soup to clear his head before answering.
“How long has my pod been down there?”
“I can’t say. You being alive, I can’t imagine it being long.”
“No,” he said quietly and clutched the spoon so his knuckles whitened. “I-I thought I had dropped from the sky, and perhaps I really have, but when? That pod could have sustained my life for centuries, if not millennia. Just how long have I been asleep?” His breathing was erratic and his eyes lost, but Granny patted his arm.
“I don’t have any answers for you, dearie.” Granny gave him a smile. “No one knows how old the tunnels under Canterlot really are. There are even crystal mines in places.”
“This just keeps confusing me more and more,” he said and leant back in his chair, shielding his eyes with palms.
“I don’t think there are any answers for you to find in Equestria. Why don’t you just settle down here? Is Equestria not good enough for you?”
“Granny, you don’t understand,” Lars said angrily and pushed the chair back so it toppled over. “I have to get back to my family.”
She simply looked up at him with worried eyes. Lars stamped around the room until his eyes fell on the opposite wall. A pitch-black spear had been put up behind the desk. Mysterious gilded letters had been inscribed on the silvery metal. “Whoa... what’s the deal with that thing?”
“The Princess didn’t know you had a weapon, so she had a spear brought to you from the royal treasure chamber.”
“I thought this was a gift from her,” Lars said and looked to the bedpost where his claymore hung in its scabbard.
“I’ve never seen a sword like that before. It’s unlike any that the guard uses.”
“Really?” Lars asked in surprise and righted the chair again. “But that must mean –” He didn’t finish the sentence and instead sat down with his soup, smiling.
“Maybe the Princess can help you, though. She’s the wisest of all ponies.”
“Did you talk with her? Can I see her soon?”
“She wants to see you as soon as you are done here.”
He nearly choked on his soup. “What? As in now?” he managed to cough as he pounded his chest.
Granny Pie nodded so Lars grabbed the bowl and poured the rest down his gullet. He quickly straightened his corn blonde hair, strapped the sword around his waist and went out of his door. He came to an abrupt end just outside; staring down at the city below him bathed in the waning sun’s light.
“Not sure where to go?” Granny Pie asked and chuckled. “Come, I’ll show you the way.”
His room was at the top of a spire at the other end of the castle complex. The mountains were visible behind and the forests somewhere below. They went down the spiralling stairs, crossed a large garden and then a grand plaza before entering the lobby. A grey unicorn guard was waiting for them and approached them as soon as they stepped inside.
“Oh no. If this is Loyal Crescent again...” Lars noted at the gilded armour.
“Don’t worry, dearie. That one is from Celestia’s own ranks.”
“Mr Leland, we require your assistance,” the guard said in a deep voice.
“The Princess is expecting me,” Lars said and hardened his voice as well.
“Your meeting has been postponed. This is not a matter that can wait.”
Lars looked first at Granny, who merely shrugged, and then back up at the guard. “Well what is it?”
“We discovered a heavy steel door when we excavated your pod. We are hearing moaning from behind it, and fear there may be more trapped.”
“So what does this have to do with me?” Lars asked and crossed his arms.
“There is no keyhole and the door is too heavy to move. We thought you might know more as it is only a few paces from your pod.”
Lars lowered his gaze. “I don’t see how that door could be related to me in any way, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“Do you want me to escort you?” Granny Pie asked.
“No, I think I know the way by now. I’m more worried about my safety with goblins and fanatics.”
“Don’t worry, outlander, there are guards stationed in the chamber.”
The guard went back to his place by the staircase up to the throne room. Lars looked longingly up at the gilded double doors, knowing that the Princess and his audition had to wait.
“I had been looking forward to this,” he said with a touch of melancholy.
“Then you’d better be going,” Granny Pie said. “The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can come back here.”
She followed him to the basement using the same route as before, through the halls of the castle and down stairs. The hatch was where it had been previously and that was where he waved goodbye to her. She draped her shawl closer around her shoulders as a chill wind escaped the hole.
His bare feet touched down on the cold stone again. He saw for his inner eye the way and made sure to stick with it all throughout the sewers. It took him less time to cover the distance now that he could set the pace for himself. He quickly found the hole in the wall and the chamber inside. The mysterious door he had noticed last time was completely unearthed, its metallic surface dull from grime. Two white pegasuses stood on either side but paid him no mind.
Lars put his ear to the door. There were some sort of sounds behind it, but it wasn’t moans. More like whispers that made the hair stand on his arms. He dusted off more of the wall next to the door, uncovering a metallic plate.
“Impossible,” he mused. “There’s no way this technology could possibly be here.”
He placed a hand on the large plate. A green light engulfed his digits and gave a satisfied ding. A soothing female voice escaped the door.
“Good morning, Lars Leland.”
He watched impatiently as the heavy steel door slid open, but had to recoil from the widening crack.
“Oh god, what IS that smell?” he asked with a hand covering his nose. Even the guards were moved by the odour, a sickly green colour painting their faces.
Lars gave it a few moments before poking his head inside. The light of torches penetrated the darkness and revealed a consultation room.
“Smells like a... like a...” he tried to say, but opening his mouth brought him closer to throwing up.
“Like a mausoleum,” the left guard said perturbed.
“I would say mass grave, but let’s go with that,” Lars said and went all the way inside.
The first room was devoid of life. Further inside was a conference room. It seemed empty at first as the light was slow to ignite, but he learned otherwise as his eyes got used to the gloom. Skeletal remains were seated around an oblong table, adorned with thick strands of cobweb and dust of ages. The bones rattled ominously as he passed them, but he could see no movement.
“Strange,” he muttered and turned towards one of the chairs. He strained his eyes to see, but the light from the tunnel was lost in the room before. “Weird. These skeletons look almost human... nah. Impossible.” He stretched out a hand to touch the skull, but stopped himself. “Too morbid,” he concluded and laughed nervously.
Once his back was turned, the rattling continued followed by a hiss. He turned his head slowly but saw nothing. “Probably just animals,” he mused. He had almost reached the door on the other end when a low hum of generators could be heard. The light kicked in with full power and nearly blinded him. He could see the chairs properly and were all empty.
“What in the name of –”
The skeletons were walking towards him, some still dressed in tattered rags and others with strands of hair on their head. There was no doubt about it now. The skeletons were human remain. Lars hesitated, his head reeling with the consequences of this. He grabbed the doorway for support, a million thoughts racing through his head.
The skeletons came closer, reaching out for his throat with their bony fingers. He shook his head to clear it and reached behind his back. The hilt of the claymore entered his grasp. He yanked it free of his sheath and sunk it deep into the skull of the one nearest. It disintegrated back into a pile of bones.
“Who are you?” he asked but they gave him no answer. “Where are you from?” he asked again as they drew nearer. Still no answer. He attacked them as quickly as they came for him around the table. The sword met little resistance as it cleaved his foes. One by one, the skeletons disappeared in a cloud of dust and scraps of clothing.
“How is this possible?” He knelt down next to one of the piles. Almost all of the bones had been broken by time. Once the magic holding them together was broken, they returned to this state. “Don’t tell me that Equestria is...” The sentence was too absurd for him to finish, yet what other explanation could there be? He got up again, wiping his brow. He could feel the bone meal mixing with his sweat to form small clumps of lint.
From the conference room he came to a laboratory of some sort. One side of the room was dedicated to blocky machines and the other for counters. He peeked into various side rooms and saw only more skeletons, all of them having died suddenly and still sitting in position. These did not come to life so Lars left them alone.
There was nothing else for him to do, so he retraced his steps. He had almost crossed the lab when he heard a familiar hiss behind him. He spun around quickly with his weapon already in hand. A skeleton had appeared, dressed in the same kind of deep purple one piece that wore. It had retained its black metal boots though.
“You wanna do this? Let’s do this!” Lars said and raised his sword. The skeleton drew its own weapon resembling a red bulb horn. It squeezed the round end like twisting an egg timer.
Lars put his sword away and jumped behind a counter. The next second, a series of loud cracks made glass and wood rain down over him. The undead guard’s boots made almost no sounds as it approached him. It peered over the counter edge and fired, but Lars was not there anymore. He had sneaked around the table and now stood behind the skeleton. He swung the sword as hard as he could, but bony fingers wrapped around the blade.
The black, empty sockets turned to gaze at him. The hairs on his arms stood up and all colour drained from his face. He tried to wrest the claymore free, but the skeleton had too good a grip. It finally tossed Lars across the room and then pointed the mysterious gun at him. He struggled to get on his feet quickly, but a yellow light was already escaping the nozzle.
The skeleton suddenly toppled over, firing the gun haphazardly. A guard with a spear had appeared and stood coldly over the fallen skeleton.
“Get away from it!” Lars yelled and readied his sword. Instead, the guard reared and with both front hooves drove the spear into the skeleton’s back. It didn’t even manage to crinkle the uniform. The skeleton flipped on its stomach and pointed the gun at the guard. It fired several small pellets with the sound of a firecracker. The guard leapt to avoid them, but one crept through his armour. Blood dyed his white coat red as he fell to the floor with a groan.
Lars again swung at the skeleton. It dismissed him with a backhanded slap. He fell to the ground and quickly crawled behind another counter. The guard retreated with him as well while the skeleton tossed its head from side to side to see where everyone had gone.
“This fabric is virtually indestructible,” Lars said and pulled on his suit. “Our only chance is to hit the skull, but that monster is the skeleton of a security guard like myself. It will be difficult to overpower him.”
“I’ll assist you however I can,” the guard said with a pant. His face was paling and there was no end to his blood loss.
“Just stay behind cover. There’s no way you can be of help to me with that shoulder.”
The skeleton towered over them again with its gun aimed at them. Lars reacted instinctively and kicked at it. The hand came loose and flew across the room, still clutching the gun. Lars had the claymore ready above his head and brought it down. The skeleton blocked with its left arm and gut punched him with the stump of the right.
He reeled backwards into a low-hanging cupboard. The painful experience left him dazed for a moment, just enough time for the skeleton to reequip both hand and gun. Just as it was ready to shoot Lars, a spear whizzed through the air and snatched the skull from its neck. The deadly instrument lodged itself in the wall and pulverised the skull.
The skeleton crumbled into dust just as the skeletons before them, its suit folding down over the boots. A ring skipped across the floor before coming to a rest by Lars’ bare toes.
A second guard entered the room with a stern face. “Are you all right, Mr Leland?” he asked.
“Yeah I’m fine. It’s your partner that needs attention,” he said and rubbed his head. His eyes then fell on the ring at his feet. He picked it up, studied it for a moment before putting it into a pocket.
“You’re bleeding on your cheek,” the guard stated as he went past Lars toward the injured guards. Lars stroked his face and found the guard was right. “You should get that checked. No telling what you could catch down here.”
“I’ll be fine. I must have cut myself one of those times when that thing tossed me around,” he said and noticed his black claymore had a fine layer of red on its edge.
“So what exactly happened here?” the second guard asked. Lars sheathed his claymore and made for the exit.
“I have seen much magic in my own world, but never a place this badly cursed by dark arts. You have to seal this entire area off, you understand? No one can ever come down here,” Lars said steadfast.
The guard nodded, so Lars went to investigate the heap of clothes. He picked up the boots and poured out the dust inside them, but dropped them quickly again. “Such small feet,” he noted disappointedly and hung his shoulders. He shuffled outside again, but perked up the further he got away from the chamber. He was rubbing his hands and smiling by the time he returned to the surface. Granny Pie was waiting for him in the entrance hall and beckoned him to crouch.
“Look at you beaming like that. Did something happen down there?” she asked as she ruffled his dirty blonde hair to get all the dust out.
“Yeah. I can’t explain it, but there are all kinds of human technology beneath Equestria’s soil. Maybe if I can find the right treasure trove, I can get home to my own time and space.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Granny Pie said motherly and released him with a smile, “but the Princess is still waiting for you.”
“Right,” he said and looked up at the enticing doors. The stairs were marbled with a red rug hugging the steps. The first floor was equally adorned with guards, none of them looking at him. They opened the doors for him and retracted their spears.
The throne room was as cavernous as most other rooms with guards lining the walls. At the very end stood a golden throne with water running out of the sides and into a pool surrounding it. Upon it sat Celestia, serenely observing him as he confidently strode up along the red carpet. He went down on one knee before her and bowed his head low.
“I am Princess Celestia, ruler of Equestria. I hope your accommodations have been to your likings and that you will accept my sincerest apologies,” the Princess said, her hair waving from an unfelt wind. “I am currently busy preparing for this year’s Summer Sun Celebration.”
“Oh, uhm... that’s quite all right, Your Majesty. That sounds more important than a poor soldier.” He clutched his chest and bowed his head.
“Do not humble yourself needlessly, Lars Leland: Summer Sun Celebration is a solstice festival and it means a lot to my ponies. Rise.” He looked up at her surprised, but she merely smiled serenely down at him. “I already know who you are and I also know what you have been doing for my guard captain. He thinks I don’t know about the whispers in Canterlot, but what kind of Princess would I be if I remained deaf to their pleas? If Crescent Heartstrings asks for something again, why don’t you humour him for me.”
Lars had a nervous tic before replying. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Loyal Crescent is a dodgy stallion. I suspect him of several ties with shady deals.”
She was silent for a long moment with closed eyes. A ghost of grief passed her face before replying again. “I don’t act on rumours alone, certainly not regarding my most trusted guard. His services are invaluable and Canterlot would be nothing without his firm hoof.”
“Y-yes Your Majesty,” Lars replied and bowed his.
“If I may call you Lars Leland, you can just call me Celestia as well. Now tell me, for what reason have you come to Equestria?”
“I have none, You... Celestia. From what little I can gather, it seems I came here in an escape pod a long time ago. Why I would need to abandon my spaceship still eludes me.”
“Come,” Celestia said. Lars retarded for a moment before complying. He approached the Princess warily, but she simply chortled at him. “There is no need to be afraid.”
“S-sorry. We don’t have royalty where I come from so I’m a little unaccustomed.”
“It’s okay. Relax and empty your head of thoughts,” she said serenely and bowed her head. Her horn tapped his crown and began to glow.
He was bathed in a comforting light for a while. When the Princess released him, he staggered backwards and nearly fell down the stairs.
“Do you remember now?” she asked. He shook his head.
“No, but I feel oddly refreshed. Like a tiredness I didn’t even know has been lifted.” He looked at his hands like noticing them for the first time.
“Whenever you feel like you can’t go on, focus on your most treasured memory. You will find renewed strength. Enjoy your stay here, Lars Leland, and try not to get yourself into any more trouble.”
“Thank you,” he said and bowed his upper body. “I don’t want to sound rude, but I’ll be trying to find a way to go home.”
“Home is where the heart is, after all. Is there anything I might do to help?”
“Well,” Lars stated hesitantly and reached into his pockets. The guards shuffled with their spears at the motion, but Lars held up the ring for them to see. Celestia took it from his hands with her magic and levitated it before her eyes.
“What is this?” she asked transfixed on the object and twirled it in midair.
“A teleportation device, your majesty. A small unit like that will only have a few fixed coordinates imprinted in, but with it I could have gone somewhere useful. It’s broken though, but there might be others out there. Perhaps you know of other places with human technology?”
Celestia shook her head shortly and dropped the ring down next to her. “None that I can think of. Do you mind if I hold on to this?”
“No, sure. It’s not like it will be of any use to me anyway.”
“Summer Sun Celebration is tomorrow,” she said with a smile. “I will assign Mrs Pie to escort you, if you will accept my cordial invitation.”
“Might as well. Long life to you,” Lars said and straightened his legs. He put his closed fist under his chin and then stretched it out in salute, bowed and returned. “Why do I get the feeling something bad’s bound to happen?” he muttered as a chill shivered down his spine.
Ponies are much like the horses from my own world, except they’re smaller and more compact. Furthermore, their eyes take up most of their face with little space left for the combined nose and mouth. This might give you a creepy impression, but the effect is actually rather adorable. Their coats are warm and fluffy as well and the way they behave is almost human. My curiosity about this world is only increasing but hopefully I’ll soon have my answers. New things are happening all the time and it’s never dull in Equestria.
CHAPTER 3 PART 1: AN ATTACK ON CANTERLOT
“So let me get this straight. Princess Celestia raises the Sun in the morning and the Moon at night?” Lars asked with clear disbelief to his tone.
“It’s the truth!” Granny Pie chuckled and looked up at him. “Things here in Equestria only happen if we help it. Pegasuses make the rain up in Cloudsdale, and every spring we remove the snow and wake up all the animals.”
“I’m sorry, but I find all that very hard to believe.” Lars scratched his neck and looked out at the plaza around them. Though large, it felt small and constricted with the sheer amount of ponies gathered. The centre of attention was a large statue of Celestia rearing on her hind legs and with horn glowing.
“Doesn’t anyone take care of the seasons back where you come from?” Granny Pie asked surprised.
“Well, you know, nature more or less does whatever it wants to back on my Earth.”
“Now that sounds incredible,” she replied and jabbed him in the side.
The horizon lightened behind the mountains and the mood reached new heights. The crowd roared and stamped the ground with their hoofs. Lars held his ears and crouched down to Granny Pie to get his voice through. “So what’s going to happen exactly? Will she spring alive from that statue or something?”
“Oh, the Princess isn’t here,” she shouted back at him. “She visits a different city each year and begins the festival from there.”
“I see. I guess I never even thought of other pony cities... how big is Equestria?” As if to glean an answer, Lars looked around. The world was still illuminated only by torches bellowing thick smoke.
“I couldn’t give you a straight answer, dearie. I’ve travelled around in my days and I still haven’t seen all there is.”
The first rays of light broke and the cheering exploding. Like a wave eating the darkness, the Sun climbed higher and higher until all of Canterlot was bathed in its warmth. Hats went flying up in the air along with all the dust kicked up. Lars was swept away by the emotions and jumped up from leg to leg. The sunshine washed over the plaza and the all ponies followed it, spreading out to all sides in a stampede. Lars clutched his kneecaps and laughed from his hearts with tears rolling down his eyes.
“This reminds me of Remembrance Week,” he said and wiped a tear. “Man I miss Remembrance Week.”
“Having fun?” A familiar pony crept up from behind and Lars straightened up instantly. Fearfully turning around, he was faced with Loyal Crescent. The captain put up a hoof before Lars could say anything. “Fear not, Mr Leland, I am not here to put you to work! I’m just celebrating as well and caught you in the crowd, thought I’d say hello. You stick out like a sore thumb as tall you are.”
A zebra in gilded armour stood next to Crescent with a mien of dignified silence and avoided eye contact.
“Good to see you too off work,” Lars said and relaxed his shoulders, pointing at the zebra. “Who’s Mister Sunshine here?”
“Ah, that’s my lieutenant. Karrod. He’s deaf and dumb, so don’t expect to hear his life story.” Crescent reared his head and laughed shrilly at his own wit. “Well, another Summer Sun Celebration and no accidents yet. Not an easy task with so many ponies, mind you. Ta ta!”
Crescent swished his tail and the zebra followed him. Granny Pie looked up at Lars and made her presence known again. “You know the Captain of the Royal Guard?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeah we’ve met... unfortunately.” Thinking back on it made Lars droop like all his energy had been sucked out of him. He raised his head as a thought occurred to him. “Why haven’t I seen more zebras around?”
“Zebras are, well, I’m not sure,” Granny Pie said and smiled as crowd thinned out almost entirely. “We don’t see too many of them in Equestria yet, so I can’t really answer you.”
Lars noted the ponies around them taking the festivities elsewhere with a hoof around their buddies. “So happens now?” Lars asked and arched his back with a crack.
“You have a good time now, dear.” Granny Pie patted his hand and smiled up at him. “You won’t find any fun trailing around with an old mare.”
Guards were just about the only ones left on the plaza, cleaning up the mess from streamers and lost hats. Lars felt himself drawn by the singing and blowing of horns coming from all corners of Canterlot.
“Yeah, I think I will!” he said and started off. “I still haven’t had a chance to see the city properly either.” He looked over his shoulder to wave goodbye when the statue caught his attention. It was shaking. The guards looked up from their cleaning duties curiously. “I thought you said she wouldn’t appear from that statue.”
Granny Pie turned to where he was looking as well and took a step back. “This isn’t part of the festival,” she stated in all seriousness.
“God I hope it isn’t goblins again.” Just to be sure, he grabbed for the claymore on his back.
The statue broke down the middle and Celestia’s horn fell to the ground where it shattered. The pedestal split open and a hoof appeared in the rift, then another and another until a metallic earth pony had lifted itself up from the hole. It was difficult for Lars to suppress his instinctive urge to flee upon seeing it. With its six legs, it quickly scampered across the ground. The guards were too slow to draw their swords and it was almost upon Granny Smith when Lars cut in front and brought his claymore down into its face.
The fabricant was unhurt and grabbed the blade with its mandibles. He held on to it obstinately even as the fabricant jerked side to side. It looked up at him with emotionless eyes shimmering like headlights. Lars stared back and didn’t see the lightning quick strike from the stinger. The needle-like instrument at the end hammered into his left shoulder and sent him stumbling backwards.
He landed on his behind, clutching the affected area with a pained expression on his face. The fabric of his suit had prevented penetration and also absorbed some of the shock. The fabricant rushed towards him with its large mandibles clicking furiously. Just as the stinger lifted up again, the fabricant gave a pitiable shriek and collapsed.
Loyal Crescent landed next to it with his hooves wrapped around his sword, a slim dai-katana in the same black and red colour scheme as Lars’ claymore.
“This is no time to be fooling around, Mr Leland. If you want to help out, make sure not to get yourself killed,” the captain lectured and gave him a stern look.
Lars got up again and found his claymore, discarded carelessly by the fabricant. “But my sword can’t cut through their armour,” he replied angrily.
“You’re looking with the eyes of your own world. Look through ours and tell me what you see.” Loyal Crescent waved a hoof towards his guards. With their greenish-tinted claymores, they easily slashed through the metal surface of the fabricants. “You’re not afraid of a little magic, are you Mr Leland?”
Lars clutched his own claymore, his eyes fixated on it. He wet his lips nervously and hesitated with a reply.
“No, don’t even answer that,” Crescent said and shook his head. “Celestia’s blessings have endowed our swords. As long as she lives with the goodwill of all ponies, our swords will cut anything. Call upon your unique sword’s magic and make short work of these... these machines! Do not make me repeat myself.”
Loyal Crescent joined the fray again, clutching his sword in his right hoof and running with the other three. Lars closed his eyes and rested the tip on the ground. Sweat poured from his brow as he slowly started to overcome natural fears that could only have been instilled in an early age.
“Lend me your powers,” Lars said calmly. “Please?”
The dark blade burned in his palms but his hand was glued to it. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw that the sword was engulfed in a brilliant light. A chill wind blew and rustled his hair, seemingly coming from the blade itself. The black turned to most brilliant white with a yellow band down the sides. The hilt turned orange and an opalescent orb emerged at the bottom, grabbed by three spindly fingers.
“Well now, isn’t this interesting,” a masculine voice said and gave a short, fake laughter.
“What? Who’s there?” Lars asked and looked around the plaza. Granny Smith had retreated away and all the guards were too far from him.
“Down here of course.” Though the sword had no mouth, the orb blinked in rhythm with the voice.
“Good Lord, am I hearing things?” Lars asked concerned and clutched his head.
“Of course you are! You’re hearing my handsome voice after all.”
“How can you talk? I mean, how is this even possible?” He lifted the claymore up before his eyes but found nothing to explain what he was experiencing.
“Is that really what you want to worry about right? Don’t you have an invasion to take care of?”
He lowered the sword again and looked up. Though the guards were outnumbered, they didn’t seem to mind. With swords clenched between teeth, their hoofs wrapped around them and some even using their tails, the guards were pressing the fabricants back. Lars plunged into the battle with renewed vigour. He found an earth pony fabricant, jumped on its back and plunged the claymore into the armour. The fabricant screeched and collapsed, dead.
A second one charged directly at him. It was a second type of fabricant based on the unicorn and looked more normal except it had spikes down its back. The tail swung and extended to pound its block-like adornment into him. Lars blocked the attack and took a step back, but the fabricant was already on him with its claws scratching at him. He kneed it in the abdomen to push it off and then lobbed the head off it.
Another few of the fabricants met their end at his sword, their chest ripped open or split in half. His hands and front were drenched in oil when Loyal Crescent approached him again. They stood before the ruined statue with the empty shells of mechanical ponies around them.
“Good job, Mr Leland. Well, well. Looks like the sword likes you,” Crescent said and sheathed the sword into the scabbard around his belly.
“You know about this?” Lars asked and held the claymore up.
“Maybe a little,” he replied and looked away with a grin. “You’re not the first to wield that sword, let’s leave it at that.”
Loyal Crescent climbed up on the cracked pedestal and looked down the yawning hole.
“Let’s not!” Lars said angrily down from the ground. “What do you know about this sword?”
“It’s a boring story really. You wouldn’t much like it.” Loyal Crescent’s voice echoed as his head reached further and further down.
“I’d like to be the judge of that myself! What is with my sword?”
Loyal Crescent sighed and looked down at him again. “It’s older than pony memory and many have tried to wield it over the years. They were all driven mad by power and greed. With each new owner, the sword became blacker and blacker until it was as dark as a coal miner’s ass. I designed my own sword after it.”
“And you gave it to me knowing that?”
“Haha, relax Mr Leland.” Loyal Crescent dismissed Lars’ fears with a wave of his hoof. “I would have killed you personally before anything like that could have happened. Now if you don’t mind, I need someone to investigate this hole.”
“It spoke to me,” Lars said calmly and murderously, putting the claymore away.
“Yes, it has a habit of doing that. Don’t believe everything it says, legends say it’s full of hot air. Now about this hole?”
“Forget it,” Lars said and shrugged off the scabbard from his back. “The danger is over and I would like to try and celebrate this day.”
With an unseen gesture from Loyal Crescent, guards went in front of Lars to block him.
“Please don’t make me do this the hard way, Mr Leland. I just want to be your friend here.” Loyal Crescent dropped down from the pedestal and calmly walked up next to Lars. He had picked up the sword again and spat it out before the human’s feet. “Please?”
The guards around him had they swords sheathed and their eyes fixed on him, but he was not for a moment in doubt of their speed. They could draw their swords before he could even blink. Lars grunted and quickly snatched the sword up again.
“You have a strange way of showing your friendship,” Lars said and hoisted the scabbard back on to his shoulders.
“Only because you make it so difficult!” Loyal Crescent replied with a broad smile and clapped Lars on the back.
A guard carrying a ladder strode past them and threw it down the hole. Although it was almost eight times his length, the top just barely protruded the ground. Lars had to swallow a lump as he climbed up on the plinth. The rear legs of the statue were all that was left still fastened on either side of the hole. The rest of the stone effigy was spread around the ground.
Lars grabbed the ladder and started his descent. Before his head could disappear, a guard reached up to him with a red metal lantern in his mouth. Lars accepted it and continued downwards. The natural light quickly became a small speck above him and his only source of illumination was the small flame inside the metal and glass cage.
“How about we do some introductions?” the aloof voice said again. Lars nearly fell off the ladder and dropped the lantern. It took awhile before the thud could be heard.
“Great,” Lars said sarcastically.
“Oh don’t worry. Anything a small lantern could do, I can do better.”
The orbed pommel exploded like a flash grenade and Lars had to clutch his face with a yelp. “ARGH. Could you maybe turn it down a little? You’re glowing like a frigging mini-sun.”
“Too bright for you? How is this then?”
The light diminished until the brown earth was again visible. He craned his neck and could see almost all the way down, as soon as the light spots disappeared.
“I’m Greenhately,” the sword said. “I’m kind of a big thing, just so you know it. Wars has been fought over me, I am just that desirable.”
“More like obnoxious,” Lars muttered and resumed his climb down. “Lars Leland. I was a security officer back in my world and now I am not entirely certain how I came here.”
“We have more in common than you think then! What is up with these ponies anyway? Whoever gave them the right to be free-thinking?”
“You’re from Prima City too?” Lars asked in surprise, completely glossing over Greenhately’s other statements.
“Prima City? Never even heard of the place. Hey, I bet it can’t compare to the Eastern Continent though! Does your place have an intrinsic transportation system? Or wiped out all known diseases? I didn’t think so.”
A vein throbbed in Lars’ temple. He dropped the rest of the way down and had a look around, feeling the walls with his hands. The tunnel was crudely made with no supports, but the dirt had been stamped smooth and slanted down. He followed it as far as it took him, until his progress was halted by a cave in. A new opening had been made on the right by a broken pillar now lodged into the wall.
“Flimsy design made in haste... I wonder if this is even safe,” he thought and slowly climbed out on the cylindrical stone structure. His breath was taken from him when he saw the enormity of the room below.
A brown, threadbare carpet in a t-pattern grabbed for doors off to either side. Tall pillars held up the ceiling and some were even still standing. Others lay in a disorderly heap where they had fallen. The walls were part wood panels, part rough blocks of bluish grey stone. Heavy iron cast torches lined them and were still lit, illuminating the room. The sparse furniture consisted of red leather couches that had not aged well.
“Bah, the architecture on the Eastern Continent is much more practical,” Greenhately said offhandedly.
“I don’t care, this is definitely Prima City style,” Lars said, almost forgetting to breathe. “This is amazing and yet... impossible. It can’t be... is my world buried beneath Equestria?”
A wild shot pierced the pillar just inches from his feet. So taken in by his discovery, he had not seen the fabricants before now. They were rather small from all the way up to his position, but they were not alone. A second species of robots fought against the fabricants, looking more like Lars but much bigger and with disproportionate limbs. They were dressed in blue boiler suits with red caps and gloves, their hands wielding guns.
Lars had to swallow a lump. “This must be where the fabricants came from then,” he muttered from his crouched advantage point. “But what is with the other machines?”
“I know. The Eastern Continent had much better robots with power saw elbows and laser eyes,” Greenhately bragged.
“Shh! You’ll reveal our location!” Lars whispered.
Greenhately laughed arrogantly before replying. “When you talk with me, only I can hear you.”
“Really?” Lars looked around him and saw that the robots were still busy with each other. “So... I could even shout if I wanted?”
“You COULD do that, but I would not appreciate it, boy.”
Lars straightened up and carefully stepped back into the tunnel. “So why do I even need to talk with you? Couldn’t you just read my thoughts?”
Greenhately gave an insincere laugh. “Ahaha. I was voted Mr Awesome six years in a row, not Psychic of the Decade.”
The last of the fabricants blew up in a spectacular light show that Lars gave a few seconds of interest. The human robots assumed a state of dormancy and slumped forward with no other objective in sight.
“I have to let Loyal Crescent know about this. IM’s – right below our feet... and hoofs too I guess.”
CHAPTER 3 PART 2: AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT
“But why not? I can’t go back down there alone; I would be killed in an instant!”
“Look at my boys, Mr Leland. This is what happened to them – out in the open and on home turf.” Loyal Crescent waved his hoof around the plaza. Though they had fought to a decisive victory, there was not one guard without blood on his white coat or a dent in his armour or nursing a gash. “We are sealing that hole. It’s simply too dangerous to have open.”
“But that facility could be the only clue to my past!” Lars shouted angrily and placed a flat hand on his chest. “You can’t seal it until we’ve had a chance to investigate it!”
“And don’t you care what happens to the guards?” Crescent retorted and jabbed a hoof into Lars’ abdomen. “We were lucky to get out of this with no casualties, but what about next time?”
“I will be there and I have my magic sword. You’re not thinking of your men, you just don’t want me to die so you can keep exploiting me!”
“As long as Celestia is out of town, I have supreme command over Canterlot and my word is law. That hole is getting sealed and I’d be happy to seal you away with it.”
Lars had his fist by his side, shaking with anger and ready to beat someone. Still he bit down and looked away. “Then so be it. Seal me away with it if that’s what you desire. I’d much rather be back in my world down there than up here with you.”
He stormed away towards the hole again but two guards crossed their spears and blocked his path. Behind them, a carpenter unicorn was banging nails into a trap door to cover the hole. The ladder was lying on the ground behind him.
“Please calm down,” Crescent said with an air of superiority, taking off his helmet and freeing his green and white hair.
“Let me through,” Lars said angrily, his back turned to Crescent.
“That would be wholly irresponsible of me. As stubborn a mule that you are, you are still a diplomat of your race here in Canterlot and it is my duty to ensure your safety. Even if that means I’d have to restrain you.”
Lars turned around slowly and was met with Crescent’s usual, sickening grin. Lars crossed his arms in defiance and remained silent.
“So I have your attention then? Good. I’m concerned about the Princess’ safety when she returns. Could you speak with one of my informants in ‘The Winged Minotaur’? He should be the only pegasus there aside from the barkeep.”
“Do it yourself,” Lars snarked, but Crescent simply gave a high-pitched laughter.
“I have another engagement that I couldn’t possibly set aside, and I still have to report this event. Just go to the bar and enquire about your ‘uncle’s farm’ and come back to me.”
Crescent stroked his hair back and put the helmet on again. He left the plaza in a hurry with his zebra lieutenant galloping up next to him. Lars waited by the guards in hopes that they would yield. Their spears remained crossed and he left with a scowl. He reached the edge of the plaza before noticing he was all alone. Granny Pie had inexplicably disappeared as well and it was only him and a few guards left. The other citizens were all celebrating elsewhere.
“You’re not lost, are you?” a familiar voice said behind him. A guard pony with a broad, welcoming smile approached him. His light purple eyes were filled with mirth and his guard uniform looked banged up.
“Butterscotch Delight?” Lars asked, cautiously optimistic.
“You remember me!” the guard said and grinned. “It’s the eyes, isn’t it? So what are we up to now?”
“Well, Crescent has me run another one of his errands,” Lars said and rolled with his eyes.
“Come, my friend, today is a day of celebrating! Let’s wrap this up quickly and I’ll treat you to a mug of cider.” The guard wrapped a hoof around Lars’ waist and pushed him into a walk. “Tell me about this errand.”
“Getting me to the ‘Winged Minotaur’ will suffice. I’m meeting an informant there,” Lars said, feeling anger oddly subsiding in the presence of this pony.
“Ah, excellent choice!” Butterscotch said and nodded. “It’s the most popular place in all of Canterlot. The barkeeper is a retired guard, you know.”
The streets were alive with a buzz of entertainment. Most ponies were drunk on the excitement and many were drinking and eating in abundance. The restaurants and bars they passed were all filled with singing, laughing and chatting customers. Everywhere they went a roar of noises mingled with the aromas of cooking. They had not gone far before Lars was swept away as well. A smile formed on his lips and his gait swung in rhythm with the many musicians they passed.
The Winged Minotaur was no different with several ponies sitting outside and enjoying the sunlight. The entrance was set into the corner of the building with a narrow patio all around. Tables and chairs were lined up and the drinks flowed like blood on a battlefield. A small hallway inside had stairs in both directions and Butterscotch led him down, turning and ending in a large room. Unicorns sat around tables, trading one ludicrous story after the other. The sight of Lars made them remember tales of other creatures that were way more frightening.
“Always a great mood here,” Butterscotch said as they passed round the bar. “You should see it at night when they’ve got singers and performers.”
“Riveting,” Lars commented in awe. A guy cracked a joke about him, making his girlfriend trying to shush him down. “Why don’t you start the drinking without me? I don’t want to ruin this day with another one of Crescent’s wild-goose chases.”
“Hehe, don’t worry about me. I planned on doing that anyway while you go about your business.”
Butterscotch clapped Lars on the back and went straight for the bar chairs. Immediately he started chatting up a female unicorn, ordering a drink for them both.
Lars strode across the stone floor and looked from wooden table to wooden table. Nothing but unicorns as far as the eye could see. He went to the very end that was less well lit. A shady unicorn with an eyepatch offered him a game of cards but Lars ignored him. He had caught sight of his target.
A burly pegasus sat in the far corner directly beneath a torch. His coat was like newly-shed blood and his mane like blazing fire. He was absorbed in a book and didn’t put it down even as Lars took a seat opposite him.
“I hear you can help me with my ‘uncle’s farm’,” Lars said and placed an arm on the table while looking away.
“Dunno what you’re talking about, outlander.” The pegasus flipped a page.
“Barkeep, a round for me and my friend,” Lars hollered. The barkeeper nodded and fished up two wooden mugs.
“Who sent you?” the blood-coated pony asked with vague interest and smacked the book shut, finally looking up at Lars.
“C,” Lars replied simply, thinking back to the Black Dagger contract. The pegasus cracked up in a wide smile and laughed loudly.
“Of course that lazy sod sent you! Brother Scream at your service,” the pegasus said and slammed a hoof into the table, then added more quietly. “Don’t ask me how I got that name, you don’t want to know.”
“I think I can guess why,” Lars commented wryly. The barkeeper came to their table and placed two mugs of foaming cider in front of them. His raspberry red mane went full circle around his face and made him look half like a lion.
“That’ll be ten bits, gentlemen.”
“On my tab, Crasher,” Scream said. The barkeeper nodded and trod away again. “So, outlander, you want the weekly status report?”
“I’m surprised. I’d have thought Crescent would do this daily,” Lars said with a smile. Scream howled with laughter and banged the table so that the cider sloshed everywhere.
“Right you are! Normally I’d say the old cat has lost his mind to paranoia, but you’ve got to be right sometime.”
“Are you saying someone actually IS planning to murder Celestia?” Lars took the cider to his lips, blushing the moment it entered his mouth. Again Scream laughed and slapped his knees. “Mmm. Not bad.”
“Good stuff, isn’t it! But in all seriousness, yes,” he said and wiped his eyes with a hoof. “I’m not sure who is behind it or why, but they’ll strike soon. I’m sure of it.”
Lars took another swig of his mug. “And you know this how?”
“A little trade secret,” Scream replied and tapped his nose. “Now run along back to Crescent’s lap. I’m sure he’ll give you a treat for this.”
An eyelid twitched nervously as Lars put the half-emptied mug away. To his surprise, Butterscotch was no longer sitting at the bar. The young unicorn was being hit on by another, more inebriated guy. Lars looked around but could see Butterscotch nowhere. He went all the way out into the street before a guard approached him.
“Did you find anything?” he asked, making Lars jump from surprise.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Lars replied and clutched his chest. “Well, Brother Scream wasn’t exactly much help. He just said that assassins were planning an attack, nothing concrete.”
“Yes, I heard something like that as well,” Butterscotch said quietly. “We’ve seen a few Black Dagger defectors over the last few days. Some of them can be quite informative if you know how to ask.”
“That bunch is still in business?” Lars asked surprised. “I thought for sure they would dissolve after I killed their leader.”
Butterscotch shook his head. “Walk with me,” he said and started up the street. The castle lay at the opposite end. “Yes, but their new leader hasn’t been able to hold on to them very well. They plan to make it or break it with this one.”
“Well I’m not going to let them get away again,” Lars said and cracked his knuckles. “We should tell Loyal Crescent immediately so he can prepare a welcome for them.”
“No!” Butterscotch said and jerked his head towards Lars. As Lars recoiled in surprise, Butterscotch quickly continued. “I mean, they can smell a trap from miles away. That’s how they survived for this long.”
“Okay, what do you suggest instead?” Lars asked and relaxed in his body. Butterscotch was quiet for a time before turning into an alley off the street. He stopped up and leant in closer, his eyes investigating their surroundings.
“I hear it said that the assassins will ambush the Princess in her chambers. Hide in there and surprise them back.”
“But I can’t do anything on my own if there’s a lot of them,” Lars said and crouched down.
“Don’t worry. ‘He’ wouldn’t be able to bring that many with him on this mission.” Butterscotch wrapped a hoof around Lars to bring their heads closer and their voices lower.
“And by ‘he’, you mean that snotty brat I held hostage?” Lars enquired to which Butterscotch nodded.
“Handsome Masquerade was the second in command before you killed their leader. He will infiltrate the castle soon but he’s young and inexperienced at leading. Kill him too and the Black Daggers are sure to fall apart.”
Butterscotch broke free and waved farewell as he quickly vanished into the crowd. Lars got up again and went the other direction; back up towards the castle with wonderment furrowing his brows. “How do you know which pony I held hostage?” he muttered.
Lars entered the castle fifteen minutes later only to realise he had no idea of where to go. The halls snaked off in every direction and each one branched off into several others. There were plenty of ponies wandering around the entrance hall, mostly guards and assorted servants, which he could ask for help. His suspicion of each and every one of them prevented him however, until he saw Granny Pie.
“Granny!” Lars called out and rushed up towards her. She sat behind her desk by the entrance and looked up from a book when he called out to her. “Are you all right? You just vanished from the plaza.”
“I’m terribly sorry, dearie.” Granny took out a rag and levitated it to rub Lars’ cheeks. “The Captain tasked me with informing the Princess of the attack. She’s rushing home this instant.”
“Good call, but I still need to figure out how the Black Daggers fit into all of this. That attack with all the fabricants seem somehow too elaborate for them... Will you knock that off!” he finally said and yanked the rag out of its spell and placed it down on the counter.
“Is something the matter?” she asked and put the cloth back into her shawl. “You didn’t catch something down in that dreadful hole?”
“No! I mean, no, that’s not it. Look, there’s no time to explain. The Black Daggers are planning to assassinate the Princess so I have to find her chambers immediately.”
Granny pushed her half-glasses up on her nose and pointed down the left hall. “The Princess lives in a room at the far end of the west section. Why don’t I show you, dearie?”
“I know I should turn down your offer, but I’m pressed for time,” he said and bit his lip. “Fine, just don’t hang around. The Black Daggers do not fool around.”
She dropped down from her stool and went ahead of him. The halls were long and seldom unadorned. Enormous paintings hung from floor to ceiling and either displayed a scene from the ancient past or a prominent pony of history. The floor was marbled as anywhere else and often furnished with carpets and stands or cabinets of some kind. They came to a staircase of finest dark brown wood, creaking from centuries of usage.
They met only the occasional untroubled guard. Most of them greeted Granny Pie heartily, commenting her or throwing a remark her way. They also tipped their helmets at Lars but otherwise remained silent to him. The upper floors had a breathtaking view of the gardens, the windows larger than him and with heavy curtains hugging the edges.
Granny Pie eventually stopped before a pair of ornately carved oaken doors. She took a set of keys from her shawl, flicked through the bundle and inserted the correct one. The doors creaked opened slowly and warmth flowed out into the cold hall. A bright fire burned in a hearth along with a few torches along the walls. Drapes and rugs ensured a cosy feeling and Lars stepped inside.
“I’m sure she won’t mind if you sit on her bed,” Granny said and smiled motherly at him.
“Great. Could you lock the door behind me? I don’t want to alert the assassins,” Lars said, unable to take his eyes off the splendour. The doors were surrounded by a green aura and closed shut. The lock clicked, followed by her hooves echoing back down the hall.
As instructed, Lars said down on the bed, a soft, round arrangement of pillows and drapes. His cheeks suddenly began to burn and he clutched the fabric of his legs nervously.
“Even smells like her,” he commented, too embarrassed to do anything but sit very still and feeling foolish. Time dragged on in snail pace and all he could get himself to do was study the room from his sitting position. His eyes fell on the only painting. It caught his interest particularly from the portrayed pony’s inclusion of both wings and a horn.
She had a stern look on her face, her coat darkest blue and hair waving on an unpainted breeze. The background was cast in darkness with a large moon illuminating the mare. “The ruler of the Sun... and the ruler of the Moon?”
He spent the rest of the time transfixed on the painting, his hands in his lap. He made a mental note to inquire further about it when he heard the lock click again. Tiptoeing across the fuzzy carpet, he placed himself behind the door on his left. Hushed voices carried through the cracks.
“I can’t believe how easy this is,” a masculine voice said.
“The Princess has grown lax over the years of security,” a familiar one replied. “Will you just hurry it up?”
The right door swung open and a black-robed pony entered with a dagger in his mouth. He didn’t see Lars pressed up against the other door. The human smacked his hand down on the dagger, forcing it out of the assassin’s mouth. The pony looked up but got a prompt elbow to the face. He staggered back and fell to the ground.
A second assassin galloped inside. Lars drew his sword and whacked him over the head with the blunt side. The assassin slumped to the floor, unconscious. The third leapt just behind the second. Lars just had time to parry the dagger.
“This must be my lucky day,” the assassin said with stoic calm and landed back in the doorway. It was indeed the one he had held hostage, with a hunter green coat and long magenta mane down his neck and the sides of his face. “I get to assassinate the Princess AND the human on the same mission.”
One of the assassins groaned, clutching his bleeding nose.
“Why is it so important for you to do this?” Lars asked and rested the tip of his claymore on the ground.
“The Black Daggers were not the same after you killed our beloved leader.” Masquerade wrapped his hoof around the dagger with murderous calm. “We will either make it or break it with this mission.”
“Well I won’t allow you to kill the Princess!” Lars bellowed and spread his legs apart, hands tightly gripping the sword.
“Oh, I’m sure you won’t mind after I kill you.”
Masquerade jumped again and Lars awkwardly guarded himself. The claymore was large and unwieldy, his movements burdened. It was all he could do to keep himself alive. Masquerade was much quicker, vaulting around him and slashing, alternating between dagger in mouth and hoof.
“You think you have an advantage,” said a lofty voice in his head. “’My sword’s bigger than his,’ is that what you’re thinking?”
“Greenhately, this is neither the time nor the place,” Lars said frustrated as his sword smashed into the floor. The resulting vibrations nearly shook it out of his hands and made the painting fall to the ground.
“You have a magic sword at your disposal. Use its magic!” Greenhately encouraged.
Masquerade stabbed at Lars who took a step back. “I know about magic, not how to use it,” he countered and sliced the air sideways where Masquerade had been.
“Let yourself go and feel my hands upon yours.” Goosebumps erupted on Lars’ arms as something or someone brushed up against them. Rather than aiding, the spooky feeling unsettled him and allowed Masquerade to bump Lars into the nightstand. “Taka. I told you to let yourself go.”
A lamp fell off and broke only inches from his face. He quickly rolled to avoid the dagger and leapt to his feet. “Well maybe if you didn’t feel me up my arms!” he responded angrily and swung the claymore horizontally.
“I would never!” Greenhately said affronted as Masquerade somersaulted backwards. The claymore continued into the nightstand and splintered the spindly thing to kindle. “You will not win your fights if you don’t allow me to help you.”
“Just shut up! There’s a reason swords aren’t supposed to talk!” Lars lunged forward with the claymore like a lance and forced Masquerade to back away through the door. His tangled tail suddenly began to glow and lifted him up. The unexpected burst of magic forced the dagger out of his mouth as he gasped.
Lars stopped his momentum shortly before Celestia. Her horn glowed in the same blue colour as Masquerade’s tail. The rest of him struggled to get free, kicking and punching into the air, but Celestia pinned him up against the yellow plaster ceiling.
Guards accompanying her streamed past Lars and into the bedroom while Masquerade was dropped to the floor. Two more guards threw themselves on top of him and attached a ring to his horn.
“Your effort was unnecessary, but greatly appreciated,” Celestia said, more serious than last they had met. “Thank you, Lars Leland.”
Lars sheathed the claymore on his back and fell backwards against the wall. “What do you mean, unnecessary?” he asked and clutched his face tiredly. Two guards carried the other assassins out of the chamber with impassive faces and nodded at the Princess.
“I have lived a long time and I have learnt how to defend myself. This is not the first attempt at my life, so please don’t do something this reckless again,” she said and strode into her bedroom.
“I apologise... also for the mess,” he said and massaged his sore upper arms.
“Think nothing of it,” she replied serenely. Her horn glowed again and the nightstand debris separated.
Lars picked up the painting that had fallen in the struggle. It glowed blue and jumped to its nail in the wall. A mournful smile passed Celestia’s lips for a moment. He took notice of it but didn’t bring it up. He got a feeling it was something best left alone and started for the door again.
“Leaving without your reward?” she asked and retrieved something from the broken wood of her nightstand. A necklace flew up into the air and landed around Lars’ neck. “Wear it and move swiftly and silently.”
“Thank you, Princess,” he said and bowed to her. He felt its weight in his hand and studied it. It was extravagant, a golden cross with a large green stone covering it and a smaller red embossed into the first.
“I have no need of it, a useless collar from another time. May it serve you as well as it has me.”
Lars looked up from the necklace and to Celestia and back again. Unsure what to say, he instead nodded and left. He went out of the castle again and across the plaza. He looked up at the square building where the vines attempted to block out the white coat on the bricks. The barrack was as always crowded with chatting ponies. An elderly unicorn with a wide-brimmed straw hat talked about her purse being stolen. The guard wrote down a description of the culprit.
He went into the side room on the right and up the stairs, down the corridor and into the large room with a raised platform in the middle. He went up the steps but Loyal Crescent was nowhere to be seen. Instead sat a mint green filly on the red stone floor and played with a toy pony. She looked up with inquisitive eyes shining at Lars’ erect shape. He in turn looked down at her with no less sense of curiosity.
“Hey there little one. I’m looking for Loyal Crescent, maybe you know him?”
The filly clutched her stuffed doll tight and remained vigilant. Lars sat down on the bench behind her and stretched out.
“You know, I have a daughter probably around your age. Her favourite toy was also a doll.” Lars groped around his suit, up and down his torso and down the legs, before retrieving a human effigy with a blue dress and buttons for eyes. He leant forward and held out the doll. “I could never make anything this delicate, but it was nothing to her mom. It was her favourite toy in the whole world and she would never sleep without it.”
“Then why do you have it?” a deep voice from behind asked. Loyal Crescent stepped out from behind a bush.
“She gave it to me when I went on my mission,” Lars said and put it back. The filly followed it with her eyes, but what fascinated her most was the real human.
“I see. Lyra, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Wait in my office and stay there. Don’t just go wandering off by yourself,” Crescent scolded.
“Sorry,” Lyra said and bit into her doll, freeing her limbs for running through the park to the back of the room.
“She looks so much like me, but by Celestia she takes after her mom.” Crescent wiped his face and lay down next to Lars on the bench. “Well, what brings you here since you took care of the whole affair by yourself? And why are you giggling?”
“Sorry,” Lars said and coughed slightly. “Just not used to see you so human. Or whatever the pony equivalent is.”
“Ehehe, very funny. Make this quick, won’t you? Her mother’s going to pick her up again in a few days.”
Lars grabbed his kneecaps and looked down at the ground before him. “Did you send the Black Daggers to kill or banish me?”
The suddenness of such a serious question took Crescent by surprise and he was silent for a long moment. “Would my reply matter to you? You already seem certain of the answer.”
“Then, do you know the names of all your guards?” Lars asked and looked up.
“Naturally. What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t?” Crescent rubbed his chest plate proudly, the dark moon shining brightly.
“Do you have a pony in your employ by the name of Butterscotch Delight?”
“What is this all about?” Crescent retorted.
“Did you provide me with a guide?” Lars pressed.
“No. Are you telling me this Butterscotch Delight has pretended to be a royal guard in order to guide you around Canterlot?”
“You didn’t think it odd how I could find my way on my own?”
“Well, no. If you needed a guide, I assumed you would have asked for one.”
“Goddammit,” Lars said and pounded a clenched fist into his thigh. “That son of a bitch has been leading me around the nose, probably drove me right into the goblin’s arms.”
“Mind your tone, Mr Leland. I assure you, it is absolutely impossible to pass for a guard without my knowledge,” Crescent said calmly as Lars got up on his feet.
“How? The magic of the armour makes you all look alike, no?” he stated heatedly. His rage was palpable with fists and voice shaking.
“Ah, but HOW would he have gotten the armour?” Crescent said with a wink to his eye. “No one has reported their armour stolen and we only have as many as we have guards.”
“I... I don’t know.” Lars looked away. It seemed for a moment that he would lash out. His nails dug into his palms and broke the skin, making little drops of blood stain his hands. Loyal Crescent was collected in his demeanour but his gaze like stone. At last Lars unclenched his fingers and stormed out.
“I’ll look into it,” Crescent called after him, but Lars slammed the door shut on his way out.
CHAPTER 3 PART 3: CELESTIA’S CHAMPION
Lars’ hand was lying on the armrest and the sleeve of his outfit rolled up. A young unicorn with a red coat sat next to him and drew a replica in great details. The pencil skidded across the paper like a deer on ice but the result was a vivid depiction of his limb. On his left side sat an older unicorn with an indigo coat and took notes.
“So that covers the basics of your society,” the older pony stated and dotted the page hard. He ripped it off the notepad and added it to a small pile on the table next to him. “We will go into greater detail later, but I think the readers would also be interested in knowing a little about you.”
“Hmm,” Lars replied and tapped his stubbly chin. “I’m married?”
“Yes, yes, good angle!” the pony said and scribbled furiously. “What’s her name? Any children? How did you meet?”
“Slow down!” Lars said and chuckled. He carried on with a slight cough. “Her name’s Charlotte and we met when I was stationed on the Virgin Islands. There had been some disturbances so they sent a small detail of officers to gauge the situation. It was my night off and there she was at a bar. She was so beautiful I had to fight off the other recruits just to get a date. The way she smiled would make your heart melt. We were married three months later. And we have a daughter, Diane. Hold on.”
Lars reached into his pockets and found a small picture crinkled from use. “I had a hard copy made as a precaution. She was only two when I left them for my mission.” Lars stood more cleanly shaved, holding a little girl in his arms and with a big grin on his face. Charlotte had her arm around him and kissed his cheek. Diane seemed reluctant to sit still and struggled out of Lars grip. She looked like her mother with long red hair but had the unruly behaviour of her father.
“Flex your muscles,” the younger unicorn said. Lars tightened his arm, making his biceps more prominent.
“Don’t you miss them?” the older one asked. A serene smile passed Lars’ face as he clutched the picture tightly. His eyes were lost in the lantern dangling from the ceiling for a long moment before answering.
“Of course I do. I was travelling through space for so many years; Diane would be a woman when I would see her again. But I had no regrets when I accepted the mission and I would gladly do it again.” He turned towards the older pony with a determined smile. “I WILL find a way to get back. Whatever happened on the spaceship, however I got here, it doesn’t matter. It’s the thought of reuniting with my family that drives me through Equestria.”
The older pony made a few notes with his floating pencil. “This mission into space, what was it about?”
Lars opened his mouth to answer but the door gently creaked opened and Granny Pie entered. A tray with tea and biscuits hovered above her head, caught in the lime green aura projecting from her horn. It gently landed on the table between stacks of papers and sketches. The teapot and two saucers ejected from the tray and landed in front of the ponies hard at work.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you gentlecolts,” she said, beaming at them all.
“Not at all, ma’am,” the older pony said and poured himself a cup.
“Yeah, we’ve been working pretty hard all day,” the younger one chimed in. Granny Pie hoofed them both a plate and served them biscuits before turning to Lars at the other end of the table.
“Dearie, the Princess requests your presence in the throne room immediately.”
“Oh? What about?” he enquired curiously and rolled up the sleeve.
“She wouldn’t say, just that it was important.”
Lars looked at the unicorns while stuffing the picture back into the fabrics of his uniform.
“It’s okay,” the older one said with a nod. “You’ve been very helpful. Hopefully we can get the book assembled quickly.”
“You’re welcome, Crimson Warning.” Lars took a biscuit from the glass bowl and bit into the cookie pony. “And Charmer, please the get the terms right this time. Humans have hands, not hoofs.”
The young pony smiled sheepishly. As Lars hurried out the door, he caught a glimpse of Charmer rubbing the title of his illustration with an eraser.
Lars had his hands full of cookie animals that he nibbled on along the way. He had to descend a few stairs and then cross a plaza from the royal library. When he stood before the gilded doors of the throne room, he had only crumbs left. He paused to brush them off, looking up when he heard voices escaping the cracks. He could not help but listen and inched closer.
“With all due respect, Your Highness, I must protest your decision!” It was the voice of Loyal Crescent and he sounded agitated. “I urge you to reconsider your decision.”
“I have my reasons, Crescent Heartstrings.” Celestia was otherwise calm but firm.
“It’s because of the human, is it not? Why else would you want to risk my guards for this foolish endeavour... with all due respect.”
“You’ll find out once Lars Leland stops eavesdropping and enters the room.”
The guards on each side of the door snickered but quickly quieted when Lars looked up at them in surprise. Their unyielding faces offered no answers to the questions he may have had about the Princess knowing he was there. He dusted the last of the crumbs off on his legs and pushed the doors open. It was just Loyal Crescent at the foot of Celestia’s throne. He had his air of dignified calm around him mixed with an uncertain amount of suppressed hostility.
“To what do I owe the honour, my kind benefactor?” Lars asked with a wink in his eyes and went up next to Crescent.
“You are too kind. I hope you have been well?” Celestia asked with a smile. Lars nodded slightly and her face hardened. “A mysterious disease is afflicting my city,” she said gravely. Her many-coloured mane waved like a flag in a breeze. “Ponies are unwilling to do their job. They have become listless and unmotivated and I fear the worst.”
“Your Highness, it’s only a few days after Summer Sun Celebration,” Crescent interjected and shifted the weight on his hooves. He put a helmet with a comb like his green-white hair down on the ground and rested his hoof on it. “It’s only hangovers.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Lars said with some concern. “Three days of lethargy is a long time and sound much like the onset of Crimson Plague.”
“Crimson Plague? How could a disease from your time possibly be here in Equestria?” Crescent scoffed and looked at Lars.
“It must be coming from the hole...” he said and stared off into the distance. Darkness was overtaking the sunlight outside and the torches around the walls burst into flame. “I suppose the facility could have had specimens of the disease on cool. The fabricants must have disturbed them.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Celestia said in a serious tone, her eyebrows furrowed. “Is there a way to stop this Crimson Plague?”
Lars shook his head. “We tried to find a cure for fifty years, Princess. The old and the sick were the first to die. We eventually had no choice but to look to the stars for a new home.”
“Then we must act quickly.” She turned to Crescent Heartstrings, her voice hardening. “Go into the hole and find the source of this disease. Stop it if you can.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Crescent said and bowed with a hoof to his chest. “But I do not think that Mr Leland should be accompanying me.”
“And why the Hell not? That facility is from my world. You’ll be lost without me!” Lars retaliated and angrily neared Crescent, but Celestia shone her horn. Its brilliant light divided them and filled them with calm.
“This mission is too dangerous for a civilian,” she interjected.
“But I’m a soldier!” Lars exclaimed and gripped his chest instinctively. “I practically had the same position as Crescent!”
“And whose word other than your own do we have for that?” Crescent asked smugly.
“Enough, both of you!” Celestia said, her horn glowing to a more frightening effect that made the windows clatter. “Lars Leland, there is still one way I could allow you to join the expedition.”
“What is it?” Lars asked and went down on one knee.
“You can become my champion.”
The silence was all the more accentuated by her outburst only seconds prior. There was not a trace of humour to be found on her face either. None of the gathered dared speak up for long moments until Loyal Crescent finally took a step forward.
“Your Majesty, the champion is an archaic title and has no relevance today!” he protested.
“I am aware of that,” Celestia said and looked down at them sternly. “But there is one thing that such a title will still bestow upon its wielder. Military authority.”
“All right, so I become your champion and I’ll go with him. How do I do that then?” Lars asked and got up again, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
Loyal Crescent chuckled at the question for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Mr Leland, the only way to attain that title is by beating me, or a substitute of my choosing, in a duel.”
“I have to... duel you? With swords?” Lars looked stupefied from one to the other in hopes of being pranked.
“Or any weapon of your choosing,” Crescent said casually. “But you will not be duelling me, no. I call upon my right for a substitute and I choose my lieutenant – Karrod.”
“Then it’s settled,” Celestia said ceremoniously, her authority shining more and more through. “Tomorrow at noon Crescent Heartstrings will be off with a small detail. The matter of championship will be settled two hours earlier.”
Crescent equipped his helmet and turned to leave with a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Good luck, Mr Leland. You will need it. Karrod has never lost to anypony before.”
“Maybe not anypony. But how about anyone?” Lars muttered and waited for him to leave before turning towards the Princess. “Celestia, what happens if I fail?”
“Nothing,” she said tiredly and lay down her head in her lap. “But I would not be able to guarantee your freedom if you entered that hole.”
“Is everything all right?” Lars started up the stairs but Celestia closed her eyes.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little tired.” Lars lingered so Celestia reassured him. “Really. Now be on your way, you have an important date tomorrow.”
He nodded and left the room, wandering down to the foyer and outside in his own thoughts. The mountain air was fresh and crisp, the sun slowly setting and casting its dying lights over the city. The boundary between castle and city was fluent and though Lars didn’t register where he was going, his feet carried him to a park he had seen a few days prior. Monkeys and birds fled as his feet stalked the grass. There he unsheathed the claymore and held the tip to the ground.
His hand caressed the blade while the waning light shone down upon it. Though the surface felt like metal it looked like stone and it cast no shadow, only the hilt. It was of it the light was swallowed whole by the blade. “What have I gotten myself into?” he said and turned the sword to see if any part of it would reflect the Sun’s rays. There was no one around to reply, so he looked up at expansive sky. “Will I ever see you again? And am I even doing the right thing?”
“You certainly are inquisitive,” the voice of Greenhately said. “You know, I could guarantee your victory tomorrow.”
“How so?” Lars swung the sword around, each slash of the air bringing him out of balance.
“Allow me to help you.”
Goosebumps crept up Lars’ arms, spooking his hands into releasing the claymore. “At least warn me before you’re going to do that,” he said angrily and rubbed his arms to make the feeling go away.
“This is going to be a long night,” Greenhately said with a deep sigh.
“Why do you even want to help me?” Lars asked and picked up the sword again. “No offence, but you’re a living sword. What’s in it for you?”
“It’s been so long since hands have held me. If just for the short period of your life that you will feed me the blood of your enemies, I couldn’t ask for more. Who knows, you might even be able to wield me.”
“Aren’t I wielding you already?” The goosebumps returned, but this time he bit it in. The sword instantly felt lighter so Lars gave it a few twirls. His movements were fluid as he spun, jumped, stabbed and slashed.
“I am NOT just a sword. It takes much more than simply picking me up, I assure you.”
“You seem to have the hang of it, dearie.” Lars diverted his attention for but a second and the sword lodged itself in a tree. “Or not,” Granny Pie chuckled.
“Hey!” Lars said happily and put a foot to the tree in hopes of yanking out the sword. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard about your little duel tomorrow and thought you might need some help,” she replied and bit into his suit. With the joined effort, the sword suddenly slithered out so Lars lost his balance and tripped.
“I’ll accept all the help I can get. I just picked up my first sword less than a week ago and now I’m already going up against someone beyond my experience.” He got up and patted his bum.
“The guards aren’t to fear, not even Loyal Crescent or his lieutenant,” Granny Pie said and walked around him. “It’s the paladins you ought to worry about.”
Lars ran a hand through his sticky brow and let slip a deep puff of air. “Even so, I need to get into that facility. There might be technology down there that can get me home.”
“Then how do you feel about taking advantage of your opponent’s weakness?” Even through Granny’s wrinkles, a young mare smiled slyly out at him. He couldn’t help but grin as he rested the hand on his face.
“What, like cheating?”
“Nothing like it!” She looked around the garden. The animals peeked out of their hiding spots and stared uncomprehending at them. “I know for a fact that Karrod doesn’t sleep in the barracks along with the other guards.”
“Yeah?” he asked, curious about where this old pony was going.
“The lieutenant actually sleeps in the inn above the Winged Minotaur. Sometimes he pays a mare for company.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I used to dance there in my younger days.”
Lars snorted with laughter and stood back up again. “Is that the reason why you don’t speak with your son anymore?” He instantly regretted his choice of words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –”
“It’s okay,” she said, again sounding like a frail old mare. “I still keep in contact with Rain Crasher, the barkeeper. I could convince him to send Karrod’s favourite girl up to his room and keep him entertained through the night?”
“So he would be tired tomorrow... You sure this isn’t cheating?” Lars asked sarcastically and picked up his claymore again.
“With everything Loyal Crescent has done to you so far? I’d rather call it evening the odds a little.”
“I’ll take that. Yeah, sure, why not!”
The animals scampered away again as the sword cut through the air again. Granny Pie left him and he was alone with the disembodied voice.
It’s the big today, the day where I finally get to enter that facility I saw not long ago. With the technology down there I hope to find a way home. Crossing space is one thing however and I am not sure the teleportation technique of my world could cross the boundaries between dimensions. I’m still wondering how I got here but I don’t think that’ll be important in the long run. Of course, all this will only be possible if I can beat Loyal Crescent’s lieutenant, the mute zebra Karrod, in a duel. Should be doable if Granny Pie came through with her little trick.
CHAPTER 4 PART 1: THE DUEL
Lars followed behind Granny Pie under the arch and a plaza unfolded before them. He had seen a few of them in Equestria by this point, some acting as markets, others with statues, but this one was circled by wooden benches like an old stadium. The space within was elliptical and unpaved, instead with stamped earth.
“I get the feeling we’re not in Canterlot anymore,” Lars said as his bare feet crossed into the smooth ground, like thousands of hooves had stamped the grass away and pounded the dirt flat.
“We’re not,” she replied and nodded towards the castle behind them. “This is an old arena just outside, but still a part of the castle grounds. It’s used for events like concerts and sports.”
“Impressive.” He smiled nervously and waved up at the cheering crowd. The benches were packed, and not just with unicorns. Many from the other races had gathered as well, waving little flags and hooting into horns. “Did you take care of that thing?”
She nodded. “I did.”
Her horn glowed in an attempt to settle Lars’ dirty blonde hair. It had other opinions however and sprang right back to its unruly state.
“It’s always been out of my control,” he said with a laugh and glided a hand through it, when he saw Karrod already standing in the middle of the open space. “I’d better get going, Mrs Pie. I think it’s about to start soon”
He rubbed his hand affectionately down Granny Pie’s light pink hair. “You be careful out there, dearie. I’m not bringing you by the hospital again.”
Lars nodded and took a deep breath. Loyal Crescent was there as well, talking in hushed voices to his lieutenant. He was dressed in complete captain attire including ceremonial helmet with the fluffy crest.
“You bumbling fool!” he said loudly enough for Lars to hear over the cheering, but Karrod remained impassive. “Did you spend all night with that strumpet again? What do you call her? Oh wait, you don’t call her anything! I swear, if you lose this battle I’ll–”
“Nice day for a duel, eh?” Lars called out and shielded his eyes from the sun.
“You had something to do with this, don’t you?” Crescent said and jabbed him in the stomach. “It won’t help you any. Even on his worst day Karrod is better than you.”
“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?” Lars taunted with a self-satisfied smile.
Crescent snorted and turned around. “Don’t muck this up. I’m warning you,” he whispered to Karrod before continuing towards a tower on the right.
Karrod smiled up at Lars, though it looked like he had spent the whole night up with bags under his eyes. His black mane was fuzzy and his gilded armour hastily equipped. He nodded as a gesture and Lars nodded back.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” Crescent said. He had appeared again at the top of the tower, his voice booming out from the commentator’s box. The crowd burst into a loud roar that went on for a few moments. Clearing his throat, Crescent continued.
“It is with great honour that I will introduce the first championship duel in over four hundred years. The rules are simple: the first to draw blood wins. Killing your opponent is forbidden. Hurting your opponent unnecessarily, also forbidden. If the contestants agree to abide by these rules, raise your weapon into the air. Should you not have a weapon already, then one will be provided for you.”
Lars unsheathed the claymore from the back and lifted it into the air with both hands. Karrod bit into his scabbard and procured what looked like a sickle with an ornately carved hilt and a spiky blade. He reared up into his hind legs to get the weapon up into the air and quickly fell back again. Lars took it as his cue to rest the tip of his own sword on the ground as well. His claymore was large and heavy, and his muscles bulged visibly through the fabric of his purple one-piece.
“If opposing contestant Lars Leland should win, he will be bestowed the title of Celestia’s Champion. In war and in peace he must stand by her side and follow her command unquestioningly, serving as her bodyguard with undeniable faith and fealty. If opposing contestant Lars Leland loses, he will be barred from trying again.”
“What?” Lars burst out and looked up at the tower. His voice drowned out in the chatter of the crowd and Crescent’s booming voice. “This is my only chance?!”
As if he heard him, Loyal Crescent’s eyes then wondered down towards him. “This duel is a serious one and should only ever be attempted by those who have made a conscious and well-thought decision. If the opposing contestant isn’t prepared for this, then forfeit now. Otherwise cross your blades, fighters.”
Lars lifted his sword again and put it dangerously close to Karrod’s face to cross their blades. This was his first time interacting with that pony but Lars did not feel nervous around him. There was an air of humility around Karrod unfound in his superior.
“Take a step back, and whenever you are ready, fight.”
They did as instructed and the two fighters sized each other up, trying to find a weakness in the opponent’s stance. Lars had to swallow a lump as he adjusted the grip on his sword.
“You can win this fight!” a voice said in his ears. “I’ve fought dragons and intergalactic planet eaters, a lowly zebra should be nothing.”
Karrod still had the sickle in his mouth when he leapt into the air. Lars parried it clumsily and took a step back from the force. He tried to counter with a horizontal slash but Karrod vaulted back, leaving Lars stumbling from the weight of the swing. Laughter erupted among the audience and the zebra went in for another attack. The slash cut him across the abdomen. He could feel it even through the fabric and winced from the pain.
“You can’t win this fight, boy! What the Hell are you pulling ignoring me like that? Allow me to take your hands now, dammit,” Greenhately shrieked into his ears.
But Lars didn’t heed the voice and attempted a stabbing motion. Karrod sidestepped and wrapped a hoof around the sickle. The blunt side banged into his side and made Lars reel from the force.
“Are you defying me because it feels like you’re cheating? Well you’re not. You have a sword! Use it for God’s sake, man!”
The claymore pounded into the dirt where Karrod had just been. He leapt over Lars and kicked him in the back before landing. Lars blundered forward and the sword slipped from his hands.
“And now you dropped it. Beautiful. Well I can see things are going fine for you, so I won’t interrupt the fight at all.”
“Shut up!” Lars exclaimed and picked the sword up again. “I won’t deserve the title if I can’t do this on my own. I’ll use what you taught me yesterday.”
“None of that will matter if you don’t use me!”
Karrod was an experienced duellist with his little sickle. Never once uttering a single word, his heavy armoured frame danced across the ground. Lars could only do so much to deflect the attacks. His blade was big and shielded him. Whenever an attack did land on him, it couldn’t go through his suit. Karrod quickly discovered that fact and moved towards Lars’ hands and face.
“Listen, you have potential and I’ll grant you that. But three days of training isn’t going to unlock it!” Greenhately said into his ears. “I can unlock that potential.”
“Thanks, but I’ll take my chance.”
Lars was being pushed back across the ground, trying hard not to get cut across his exposed skin. His sword could not connect with Karrod. He always stepped out of the way or leapt back and then pressed his own attack. The barrage rained over Lars and he could feel his stamina draining. Karrod was better trained for this. Lars was strong despite his size but endurance was not his forte. One last blow from the zebra hit him in the abdomen and he finally gave out. Lars landed on his back, the claymore flying from his hands.
“You are a fool to sacrifice your dreams for principles.”
A shadow fell on his face. Karrod had a mournful expression on his face as he raised his right hoof into the air. The crowd went wild. Lars closed his eyes.
“Give me... your power,” Lars muttered imperceptibly. Without another word, his bruises stopped aching and energy returned to his limbs. Not just what he had lost, but twice over was gained. He leapt out of the way and landed next to his claymore just as the sickle bore into the ground. A serene smile creased Karrod’s lips and the two combatants resumed the fight.
“Hyaa!” Lars screamed and drove his sword hard at Karrod. The zebra had amazing strength himself and blocked at the attack. He dug his hooves into the ground, but was pressed backwards and dug deep trenches into the ground. He redirected the claymore, but Lars quickly regained his posture and swung around.
The fighters were looking at each other again like the first time two strangers meet. The claymore fell into a horizontal line out from Lars’ abdomen. His breathing was controlled unlike Karrod’s. The zebra’s coat was dark with sweat and his mane tangled from the exertion. Even the crowd became silent as two fates were about to be decided.
Lars swung the claymore behind him and charged. Karrod bit into his sickle and galloped. The blades met in a thundering crash. The stadium shook and frightened screams broke out among the audience. Sparks flashed and crackled like thunder. The fighters were engulfed in the heat from two opposing forces, the friction increasing.
And at last, the moment they had waited on. When one fighter was decided to be weaker. When the stronger one broke free and claimed the victory for himself.
Karrod tripped forward a few steps, as did Lars. Both weapons fell from their hands. The human’s purple suit was frayed from the battle in a long gash across his abdomen. But it had held. Karrod’s golden armour, on the other hoof, suffered from a deep crack. The guard uniform splintered open and blood trickled from the shallow wound across his back.
“The duel is over!” Crescent’s voice exploded. The audience was confused for a moment. They peeked through the hoofs covering their faces. They saw the result and went wild again.
“Congratulations, Lars.” Karrod turned towards him with a smile. Lars faced him as well and sank to his knees.
“You must have hit me worse than I thought. I could swear I just heard you speak.”
“Pretending to be deaf and dumb makes it easier to work with Crescent Heartstrings,” Karrod chuckled and offered his body for support. Lars declined and got up with some difficulty. “I know you can keep a secret.”
Lars lifted his head up at the audience but his face was not one of joy. He quickly looked away from them again and stared down at the white claymore next to him. “I’m sorry, Karrod. I knew I couldn’t win this duel so I... I cheated.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. It’s my own fault for having such a weakness towards the ladies.”
“No, no, not that. It’s the sword. I called upon its magic. I forfeit my victory.” Lars took the claymore, its weight almost nothing now. A grey hoof rested upon his hand.
“You used what you had at your disposal.” Karrod’s sincere eyes looked up at him. “Even with just a sword, you increased your chances of victory. There’s no way you could have defeated me all on your own unless you stripped and attacked me with your uh... fists you call them?”
Lars nodded and put the claymore away. “But I didn’t use my own power to win. It was the spirit of my sword.”
“You can’t fight your fights on your own. The sword, and its magic, is only an extension of yourself. Celebrate your victory, Lars, and if there is ever anything you need, do not hesitate to call me. It was your hands that beat me as the first creature since my training days.”
The arena was filled with light as the Princess made her entrance. Loyal Crescent dutifully followed her with a cushion in his mouth. On the red silk lay a black dagger with a glowing green blade.
“Lars Leland, you have claimed the title of my champion. You join a rank that only twenty-three others before you have entered, and the first in over four hundred years.” Celestia was shaking slightly and her eyes were bloodshot. Her feathers were ruffled and her mane was almost not waving at all.
“Princess, are you all right?” Lars asked and sheathed his sword.
“I told you just to call me Celestia,” she dismissed. The pillow flew from Crescent’s mouth and hovered before Lars. “Accept this gift as a token of your victory.”
Lars took the dagger into his hands, feeling its weight and making sure that it reflected the light of the sun.
“Made of green volcanic glass makes it one of the most durable and light-weight weapons in all of Equestria,” Crescent said with an air of pride. “You won’t find this baby in the stores.”
“But do I have to wear it?” He accepted the scabbard as well and strapped it around his waist. The green blade completely sunk into the black leather and the dagger became nothing but black skin.
“Of course not.” Celestia shook her head serenely. “It is a prize, not a badge.”
“Now you must excuse me, Your Highness, but I have to finalise the preparations for the expedition,” Crescent said and turned towards Lars with an impressed smile. “I got to hoof it to you, Mr Leland, I did not think you had it in you. Congratulations!” He passed Lars with a respectful nod. “Come, Karrod. I still have to find you a punishment for disappointing me. Letting you get tricked like that is no behaviour for a lieutenant of–”
Karrod hurried to catch up and winked at Lars. “Not a word,” he mouthed.
The stadium slowly emptied out as the festivities ended. Lars stood alone in the middle of the grounds with only Celestia accompanying him. Her light fell on him but seemed paler than usual.
“You have proven yourself on this day. There are things we need to discuss when you return,” she said mysteriously.
“Like what?” he asked and began to finger the hilt of the dagger.
“You’ll see...” She looked up at the sky and closed her eyes for a moment. The wind played with her hair and she seemed fine again. But her legs began to wobble, and Lars caught her just in time and supported her. Her left wing embraced him and pushed him into her soft fur. His cheeks blushed and she pulled away. “There is something... you must do for me... while Crescent prepares,” she panted.
“Celestia, you are not well.” He tried to stroke her but the wing stopped him.
She took a moment to compose herself and smiled weakly down at him. “My children are dying, not of the plague but by strong poison. My best physicians couldn’t cure them if they didn’t deny treatment. I fear they are killing themselves.”
“What? Who’s killing themselves?” he asked confused and stepped back.
“The followers of Swirl the Smart. The ponies that you found under the city.”
“Those whackjobs who besieged my pod? You released them?” he asked incredulously and swung his arms.
“I had nothing to hold them on,” she replied, her face hardening. “They follow the teachings of... of Tuxedo Masquerade.” Celestia looked about ready to faint again but she had become too determined to allow herself such weaknesses.
“Masquerade? Wasn’t that the name of–?”
“Yes.” She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. “He is the father of the Black Dagger assassin you’ve encountered before. He has distanced himself from his son but rebellion must run in their veins. Find him before he coaxes anymore of his followers to suicide. The expedition will probably be ready by the time you return.”
“I guess I’m now obligated to serve you, Princess.” Lars put his clenched right fist under his chin and then stuck it out in the air.
“Your obligation does not exempt you from calling me by my name.” Lars chuckled and turned around, but Celestia stopped him. “One other thing. I do not want anypony killed, so leave your weapons with me lest you convey the wrong message.”
Lars nodded and immediately took off the large scabbard draped over his shoulder. “Wait, don’t listen to this whore! You can’t leave me with a pony! Only kings and queens have ever touched my blade,” Greenhately protested but the claymore landed on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
“Well then, I hope a Princess is good enough for you.”
“I’m amazed you were able to turn the blade white again.” The sword was surrounded by a yellow glow and hovered up before the Princess’ face. “I have not seen this mysterious hue in almost a thousand years. The souls that this sword has corrupted. I’ve had to put down many of them on my own in the past.” A shade of grief passed her face as her eyes went distant.
“Well maybe if you had handled me better,” the sword replied.
“Does it speak to you?” Celestia asked, her magic suddenly failing and the sword escaping her grasp, nearly lodging itself in his foot. “Sorry. I haven’t slept well the last couple of days.”
Lars hurried to pick it up but Celestia’s magic quickly surrounded it again. “Oh... every now and then, you know. It calls itself Greenhately,” he replied-
“Interesting.” She had it levitate before her eyes, scrutinising it closely. “One would almost think such a name a pseudonym?”
“If there was nothing else, then where can I find him? This Tuxedo Masquerade.”
“His comings and goings are a mystery, but it is possible that his wife would know more.” The sword flew through the air and came to a rest on her back, her eyes focusing on him with gentle intensity. “Remember, I do not want him dead. That is not how we do it in Equestria... any longer.”
CHAPTER 4 PART 2: THE PROPHET
“I’ve won the trust of the princess of this place.” The streets had become drastically depopulated. Lars met only a single pony here and there as he wandered, consumed in his own thoughts. “For all this time, my visits with her have been courteous, formal, but now she is asking me directly out on a mission. This duel must have proven my worth to her. She knows more than she lets on. Timeless wisdom is hidden in that elegant body of hers. It would be improbable to assume she knows as little as she’s letting on.”
“That was quite a performance.” He looked down and saw Granny Pie walking next to him.
“How long have you been there?” he asked in sudden surprise and nearly bumped into a lamppost.
“Ever since you walked out of the arena, sweetie. Ears are still listening even if your eyes cannot see anyone.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and stopped up, leaning up against the lamppost. “Yeah. I don’t want to mess this thing up, now that I’ve won the Princess over on my side. Yet I don’t know where to start.”
“You are looking for Tuxedo Masquerade?” she asked, with an almost childish superiority in her voice. Like she already knew everything and was just waiting for him to ask.
“But no one knows where he is, except maybe his wife, and I don’t even know where to find her.” He crossed his arms in frustration, but Granny Pie simply chortled.
“The wife and I are old acquaintances. If she hasn’t fallen prey to the disease as well, then we should be able to find her at the market this time of the day.”
She waved her fluffy pink tail, beckoning him to follow. Lars shrugged and walked just behind her. “You know, for a mare your age, you certainly can keep a tempo. Where was this energy back in the sewers?”
“I’ve been Celestia’s chambermaid for many years, recently a lot of other things as well. It keeps the old muscles working.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to see why the Crimson Plague wouldn’t touch you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, you want to see who can get there first? You do still remember the way?”
He looked down at the mischievous mare’s grin and snorted. “All right, Mrs Pie, you’re on.”
It took them only few minutes to reach the marketplace. The few ponies not stricken by disease had congregated there. Most of them were owners of the various stalls, but also many of those who had watched the duel were present. There was a lively chatter and many of them recognised Lars, nodding and smiling at him as he zoomed past them.
He didn’t stop until he was well within the middle of the place, where the density of the crowd made it impossible to continue in high speed. Granny Pie was only seconds behind him but not visibly as out of breath as him.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t farther, young man! I could easily have overtaken you,” she said.
“In your... dreams...” Lars huffed back, bent over with hands on his knees. “I’m just... a little exhausted... from the duel... That’s all!”
Granny Pie shook her head and went up to the stall where they had stopped and bought two cups with a corn stalk painted on the sides. Several other vendors up and down the path tried to peddle their wares as well, but she ignored them. Lars accepted the cup and put the straw to his lips. A group of young ponies went past them, giggling at the strange creature wiping his sticky brow.
“That hit the spot.” He straightened up again and cracked his back, nearly spilling the cup in the process. “What is this stuff? Tastes like liquid bread.”
“It’s hay juice, sweetie. Don’t tell me you’ve only been drinking water all this time?”
“Well...” he replied nervously and scratched his neck. “You think we can find her here?”
“No, I rarely see her here in the produce part. We’ll have more luck where they sell fabrics. Us old ladies gather there to chat.”
“By all means, lead the way.”
The market had many other exciting things to offer. At the very end stood a raised platform where actors were performing “The Horror of Castle Canterlot – The Life and Death of Starswirl the Bearded,” according to the sign in front of the scene. Lars paused briefly among the amazed audience as smoke filled the stage. A young pegasus with white colours had a clearly fake horn attached to her forehead as she swooped out over the market place. Granny Pie nudged him along with her forehead to his waist.
“I’ll treat you to the show another day where we aren’t so busy, dearie.”
“A-ah. Yeah.” Even as he walked, his eyes were on the pegasus. “Celestia...” he mumbled when he saw the sun symbol painted on both sides of the actress.
“There she is!” Granny Pie said enthusiastically and nodded down at the street.
“The Princess?” Lars asked in surprise and looked wildly around the marketplace.
“No, silly, the wife.” She pointed a hoof towards a dark purple unicorn that browsed a stall filled with rolls of fine fabrics. She had an almost sorrowful look on her, like someone who had lost something dear.
Lars waved his hands down, a cue for Granny Pie to wait while he took care of things. He walked up the street casually and ignored the stalls around him. He was just a man who needed to cut through an unpleasant place to get where he wanted to go. No pony paid him any more than they did any other. But he stopped just shortly after passing the wife and bowed his head.
“Ma’am, I need to know where I can find your husband,” he said. She dropped the basket she carried in her mouth and looked up at him with frightened eyes.
“I-I don’t know where my husband is,” she stammered but Lars shook his head and looked her dead in the eyes.
“I think you do.” The unicorn took a few steps away from Lars before breaking into a run up the street. “Why do they always run?”
Cursing under his breath, Lars took up the chase. The wife was a pony and built for running, even if she was a little old. Lars had a hard time keeping up with her having already spent a lot of energy fighting and racing. Granny Pie stepped out on the street and greeted her.
“Emerald! It’s been too long,” she called but the wife was in no mood for a friendly palaver. She cut between stalls on her left and jumped over a collection of porcelain dolls and decorated plates to the other street. Less gracefully, Lars followed and saw her run down through the throng. A Chinese-looking pony got too close to her and was spun into circles, but sighed in relief when his tray of dumplings didn’t fall from his head. Lars apologised in passing but instead bumped into a blue minotaur with a head full of black hair.
“You all right?” the creature asked, but Lars quickly got up without answering. Emerald had gotten a major edge and was disappearing in the steams of soup kitchen at the very back of the market.
“Dammit!” Lars sought to cut her off by jumping through the stalls again but tripped on a woodblock and landed in a batch of eggs.
“Hey!” the disgruntled earth pony said but Lars was on his feet again before he could do anything.
The tent was just ahead of him, cauldrons warming over fires and steam filling the area. A crowd of ponies was gathered around, bowls in their mouth, waiting to be served. The soup kitchen was off in a corner of the market place and there was much open space around it. His eyes darted from side to side but he could not see her any longer. He pressed himself between the ponies and took notice of every one of them when he heard a mare calling out in surprise. He rushed back the way he had come and there the wife was with Granny Pie lying across her.
“You’re late!” she said with a smile.
“Mmm-yeah.” Lars wiped the last egg from his face and front. “Just a little exhausted is all. I’d have caught her on any other day.”
“You can find my husband at the Winged Minotaur,” the wife sighed in defeat.
Lars squatted down next to her and Granny Pie got off. “That wasn’t so hard. Why did you run?”
She looked up at him with defeated eyes. “Ever since my husband started that stupid cult of his, weird ponies have been accosting me at all hours. Even when I kicked him out they kept coming, looking for him.”
“I’m not interested in that, ma’am. I just want to stop him for the peace of Equestria.”
“He may have become a lunatic but I still love him, so please don’t kill him!”
Lars put a hand on her head and rubbed her red mane. “I come in peace, I assure you. Granny, maybe stay with her for now?”
Granny Pie nodded and Lars went away from the market. He had been in Canterlot for nearly two weeks and was starting to know its streets better. He knew where the Sun Plaza was where the Summer Sun Celebration had been held, and he knew the way from there to the inn. It was only a matter of finding some part of the city that he recognised.
The Winged Minotaur wasn’t as lively than it had been last time he had went for a visit. Ponies still sat on the porch outside and enjoyed a small meal but many more tables were empty than occupied. It could also very well be the disease instead that forced so many to stay in bed. Lars didn’t think much of it. A unicorn stood on the street outside, wearing a white robe that almost entirely covered his green coat. His aging mane was almost entirely white with only a hint of magenta, but a passionate fire burned in his eyes. Anypony who bothered listening would get their ear full or a pamphlet thrust into their mouth.
“Greetings, friend!” he called to Lars and waved him over. “Are you interested in learning more about End of Times?”
“Sure. I’d like to know why your followers are offing themselves,” he replied grumpily with arms across his chest.
“Our belief is a simple one, my friend.” He wasn’t just speaking to Lars. His words were loud enough to be heard by everypony passing by. “The blessed Celestia, though once filled with glory, is no longer the god she once was. As with the tides and the moon, all cosmic powers will wax and wane. But, when gods die, it creates ripples throughout the lands. The passing of the Princess will be a prelude to the end of this era, and the beginning of the next. The followers of the End of Times are making ourselves ready for this to happen.”
“And that entails killing yourselves?” he asked in disbelief. Tuxedo hung his head but his voice was optimistic.
“We realise that the end of the era will bring many changes. We believe that the gates of Tartarus will open, and a multitude of demons will roam this world freely. Some might tell you that this is a good thing, that we are descended from them and it will be a return to the natural order of things. I know differently, though. The coming age will be a time of great horror.”
“You’re just avoiding my question! Why are you killing off your followers?” His voice was imbued with the intent to demonstrate that Tuxedo was wrong, and Lars swung his arms out at the ponies that had stopped up to see what was happening.
“The demons are not our ancestors. Nor are they our allies. They will wash over the land, destroying all that ponies have built over these thousands of years. The only protection from this scourge will be our true ancestors that have gone before us and watch over us even now. Many of our followers choose to participate in the Cleansing, to prepare the way for the rest of us. It is a sacrifice to be sure, but it is for the greater good.”
“Sounds more like you’re exploiting them.”
“It is a glorious ritual, my friend. Our followers cleanse themselves of all of their troubles, all of their burdens here on this earth. They send themselves ahead to the ancestors, spreading our word, making ready for when we shall all join them in our fight against the demonic hordes.”
“And what about the ponies who attacked me in the tunnels under the city?”
Tuxedo nodded his melancholically before answering. “I apologise on their behalf but they are not of my flock. They follow the teachings of Swirl the Smart and while great, also utterly insane.”
“They did mention that guy.”
A devious smile spread across Tuxedo’s lips but coughed it away. “Swirl the Smart was a stallion who lived thousands of years ago. He made a lot of prophecies but do not mistake them for established fact.”
Lars closed his eyes for a moment. “Well, you seem harmless enough, if not a little lost in the clouds. I will have to report this to Celestia of course but I will list the deaths as unrelated... if you decide to stop the ritualistic suicides.”
“Oh, I cannot help what my followers do, my friend, but I will tell them that enough lives have been sacrificed.”
“Then my business here is done. But the next time I will be sent after you will be with my sword.” The crowd dispersed again to let him through and the ponies went back about their businesses. Tuxedo continued as he had before and tried to hoof out flyers to those passing him. “Let’s hope it won’t come to it,” Lars mumbled.
CHAPTER 4 PART 3: THE FACILITY
Celestia waited for him at the Sun Plaza and he explained everything about Tuxedo. She gave him a tired smile and sighed.
“I hope you are right in your assessment, Lars Leland. I do not want his words to poison any more minds.”
“Those who listen are just lost and trying to find a new meaning. It will be fine, but I am still wondering what gave him his epiphany.”
Loyal Crescent and Karrod strolled into the plaza with a hoofful of guards trailing behind him. All were dressed in full uniform with helmet and amour and swords and everything. Celestia leant in closer to Lars’ ear and whispered.
“Come back alive. When you have rested, there are some things you need to know.” Crescent came up to them and Celestia retracted herself. “I had a most fun time talking with your sword. A most obstinate creature to be sure.”
The sword hovered from between her folded wings and landed into Lars’ waiting arms. He slung it over his shoulders and instantly the voice of Greenhately filled his head.
“If you have any hopes of ever gaining my power, then don’t ever let my fine body be touched by such filthy creatures.”
“He says hi,” Lars said to Loyal Crescent.
“I’m sure. Are you ready, Champion?” the commander asked to which Lars nodded.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Do you have enough men with you?”
Loyal Crescent looked over his shoulder where twelve gilded ponies stood waiting for orders. “I think we’ll manage. Now, if we could get going before the entire city succumbs to this… human disease.”
“So you believe in it now?” Lars smiled triumphantly but a pained expression came over the guard captain’s face.
“My daughter is at home refusing to wake up.” Crescent suddenly looked up at Lars with very dangerous eyes. “If we can’t resolve this then I will hold you personally responsible, are we clear?”
“Do not be so pessimistic.” It was all Celestia had just to keep standing. Her legs were shaking and the bags under her eyes told of countless sleepless nights.
“Your Highness, please don’t strain yourself. You can rest easy tonight with the comfort knowing that I am taking full charge here!” Crescent said but Celestia closed her eyes and looked for a long moment to be on the verge of throwing up. Finally she gathered what little strength she had left and levitated another item from under wings. It looked like a brown vase but was made of metal and completely solid.
“This was found in Canterlot’s underground. You might come to need it.” Her magic flickered, but Lars had put his hands out before the object could hit the ground. “Do not fail, for the sake of Equestria.”
He was about to ask what it was or how she had come into possession of it, but the Princess was already trotting out of the plaza and Crescent didn’t acknowledge it either.
“Last chance then, Mr Leland. Do you still insist to come with us?” he asked. Lars hugged the strange thing and nodded.
“I’ve come this close to knowing how I got here so I’m not about to step down!” He clutched the strange thing by its ear and held it up into the air.
“Very well then. The hole is waiting for us if you are ready.” Crescent tossed his head towards the middle of the plaza. Celestia’s statue was almost entirely broken off and only her rearing hind legs were left. It was an otherwise unremarkable sandstone plinth with a plaque screwed to its base. A hatch had been installed and Karrod opened it with the key in his mouth. He smiled up to Lars and winked, before putting it into his armour again.
“Follow my lead.” Crescent took a lantern from one of his guards and then tiptoed into the darkness tail first, making extra sure his hoofs entered all the steps in descent. Karrod was next with Lars following and then the rest of the guards. It didn’t take them long to get to the opening that Lars had discovered a few days prior and the difference in darkness was blinding for a moment.
“This is it,” Lars said and grabbed the rough edges of the entrance.
“Is this really as far as you got?” Loyal Crescent put the lantern down and squeezed in next to him, staring unimpressed down at the vast room unfolding before them. “Doesn’t seem to be any dangers. Are you sure you weren’t just afraid to climb down?”
A pillar had dislodged itself and fallen into the wall where it had broken through. It was the only way down as the tunnel was otherwise blocked by a cave in. A few humanoid machines were scattered across the floor but were completely unmoving.
“They must have killed off all the fabricants and gone back into hibernation. I might not need you guys after all. Hold on.”
Lars carefully placed the vase-shaped object Celestia had given him down on the ground and jumped out on to the pillar. The sleek marble was twice as wide as him and secured him a smooth ride down before coming to a tumbling stop at the bottom. Only down there the enormity of the room hit him. His mouth opened but no words exited. He stared agape at a ceiling that seemed so far away and furniture like flotsam on a sea of carpets and wood panels.
“It’s like a gigantic chapel,” he whispered. Still his words echoed and the machines sprang to life and raised their guns at him. Rather than being frightened like the gasps he heard from the guards above him, he stood stock still and allowed the machines to come close to him.
“Identity,” it asked with an uncannily human voice. It was naked but its bolted metal plates were painted blue with red stripes down the arms.
“Sergeant Lars Leland with crew,” he said.
“Voice not recognised. Identity,” it repeated and stretched out a hand.
Lars spat into the palm and the machine closed its fingers. Its green eyes glossed over for a moment before reciting the verdict. “No reference sample found. Intruder alert, intruder alert.”
The rest of the machines repeated “Intruder alert” over and over again and they all aimed their guns directly at him. He reached for the claymore behind him knowing it would be too late before he could unsheathe it. But a minty flash streaked past him and the robot’s head and left arm fell off with a sputter. Arrows rained down from above, some splintering on the hard surfaces but others wresting the guns from the mechanical arms. This gave Lars the time he needed. He and Crescent started hacking away at the robots with Karrod and a few of the guards fast joining them.
“Smooth moves, Mr Leland. Looks like your toys don’t recognise you anymore.” Crescent had his sword between his hooves and pounded it into a cold chest. The machine staggered backwards with a hollow cry of death.
“This facility could have been built hundreds of years after I vanished.” Lars first cut off the machine’s hand and then used the momentum to slice into its side.
Karrod said nothing but bounced around from shoulder to shoulder with the sickle in his mouth, gashing up the metal faces he encountered and ripped up their heads. The rest of the guards had equal fun and deftly avoided the hail of bullets raining down on them. One of them hid behind a pillar while dust flew everywhere. Cornered and with no way out, he showed the resourcefulness of Celestia’s guards by kicking it hard. The pillar creaked from its base and crashed down on the machine and brought an end to the cacophony.
When the dust had settled, Lars, Crescent and all the others were alone once more. The robots lay dead before them and not a single one of their own had followed them. They were not without injuries however. One of the guards rested up against a pillar. His armour was full of bumps and dents and his left arm was dyed red.
Lars went towards him. “Are you okay?” he asked but the guard nodded dismissively.
“I’m fine, my friend. Leave me here and go on ahead without me.”
“You stay here then,” Crescent said, already in the process of moving on. “Make sure nothing can come to surprise us from this end. Now then, which way do we go, Mr Leland?”
Lars turned from the injured guard and looked around them room. There was a door at the very bottom which they would have used to enter but dirt and stone blocked it off. The only other two doors were at the direct opposites of the room off to each side. A threadbare burgundy carpet connected them and formed a t with a wooden receptionist’s desk in front. The rest was worn out leather couches and tables spread around here and there.
“We should have the guards check out both doors,” Lars suggested and pointed them out. “Just to see if any of them goes anywhere.”
Loyal Crescent waved over some of his stallions and sent them out on their mission.
“Have you investigated that possibility of an imposter within your ranks?” Lars asked. Loyal Crescent was silent as he moved around, taking in everything he saw and especially paying close attention to the machines. “Well?”
“I am… not denying the possibility.” Crescent picked up one the guns, what looked like a submachine gun, possibly of the M4 variant.
“So you admit it then!” Lars stated eagerly.
“I am admitting nothing, I simply don’t deny it. You have shown me enough strange things by merely existing but it’s still, hmm, hard to believe.” Karrod wedged in between them and drove his sickle into the robot and moved on. Crescent sighed and pushed the gun away. “It would help if you could tell me a little more about this imposter.”
“Uhm.” Lars couldn’t take his eyes off Karrod walking from robot to robot and striking them with his weapon.
“Come now, Mr Leland, he’s simply making sure they’re dead. A general description would be nice, but if you know the cutie mark…”
“He was a unicorn and had a light purple coat and a mane that was lightly grey. What do you mean by cutie mark?”
Crescent lifted up his uniform as much as the straps allowed him. A sword crossing a crescent moon was imprinted on his flanks on both sides, the symbol also marked on his crest.
Lars crouched down next to Crescent but he released his armour again so that it obscured the view. “What is that thing anyway? Nearly every pony I see has one.”
“That’s because it’s a symbol of our talent. Those without are simply too young to have found theirs yet,” Crescent said somewhat impatiently, making it perfectly clear he had no intention of being a teacher. Lars ignored it however.
“What’s your talent then? I mean, that’s a moon and a sword, shouldn’t it have been a sun and a–”
“Mr Leland, the cutie mark… of the imposter?”
“Ah yes.” Lars got up again, scratching his chin and tapping his bare right foot. “Damn, I think it was bandaged up after the goblin attack. That’s also where he dented his… his armour.” He looked over his shoulder to where the injured guard had been previously, now a few droplets of blood were all that was left. “He kept calling me friend. Where did that guard go? I thought he was resting.”
Crescent looked at a guard who stood a little distance away and whistled. The guard jerked his head up and looked at them. “H-he said he felt better and joined the group investigating the right side.”
“It has to be him. Bullets wouldn’t have dented his armour like that.” Lars hurriedly ran towards the room but was met with a loud bang and a cloud of dust rolled out of the doorway. Several coughing guards followed it.
“I’m sorry, sir, but he just suddenly cut in front of us,” one said and wiped his brow.
“Yeah, and then he blasted the ceiling so that the whole damn thing collapsed.”
Lars entered the room apprehensively and saw what had been a dormitory. Several beds were stacked up on top of each other and now covered in a fine layer of dirt. Broken tile and brick spilled out from the wall on the left and a purple barrier surrounded it.
“Bastard must have sealed it after him,” Crescent said as he strode past Lars and put a hoof up to the barrier. It rippled but would not permit him to go through it despite its flimsy appearance.
“At least you believe me now?” Lars asked with an enthusiastic smile. Crescent could only nod.
“Well, no going this way. Let’s hope our mission hasn’t failed already.” He went back out of the room but looked back to see that Lars was still standing in there. “You coming?”
“H-hold on.” His voice was distracted and his hands busy. Several lockers for personal effects had been erected in the dormitory and Lars opened every one of them. “I was hoping for a spare pair of boots.” He slammed the last door shut and sighed, his eyes finding the bunks. Something ashen looked to be mixed in with the dust but Crescent called out to him again.
“Oi, last call before I leave you here. We still have to check out the left way.”
Lars nodded and trailed along between the regular guards and the higher ranking officers. The door on the left led to a corridor that tilted downwards. A single robot lumbered towards them but the guards sprinted from behind and hacked it to pieces. Crescent barely took any notice, instead inspecting the corridor.
“Which way do we go now?” he asked with only slight interest.
Lars looked first to the right and saw a small room that was again blocked off by debris and then to the left where a door stood with a sign above it.
“Lab 01,” he read and peeked in through the glass pane. “I think we should just go on.”
The corridor took a sharp turn to the left and continued down. At the bottom was a niche with a marble statue of a man with short, thin hair and a powerful jaw. The hall made a one eighty to another door that Lars pushed open. It went on like that with the corridor snaking its way down into the ground, taking a few pauses here and there for a laboratory door, a marble figure or a lunch hall.
The robots were prevalent as well, popping out of rooms or walking towards them. The guards jumped into actions with their swords and Lars felt obligated to join them. After what seemed like an hour of walking the unthinkable happened. The corridor itself was blocked off with rubble. Crescent traced a hoof along the tightly packed wall of stones and grumbled. Karrod stepped in and gave it a few kicks with his hind legs. Some of the guards teamed together and pelted it with their spells. Nothing could budge it.
“Seems we are at a dead-end,” Crescent finally said. “Maybe we could backtrack and find another way.”
“No, it should be just beyond here. Hold on, I think I saw something we could use.”
The human darted back up the stairs to the preceding corridor. A few robots lay unmoving on the ground and observed him with their dead eyes running past them. The wood panel walls echoed with his bare feet as he went to a room on his right. It was a work area of some sort with weird machines that took up whole walls, a desk at the end and several chests about the floor. More of the strange ash lay strewn around, but always on top of clothes.
“If I’m lucky, I might be able to find it here.” He opened the chests one after the other, sometimes finding spoiled food and at other times various knickknack. It was with fondness he picked up a small statuette of a man wielding a sledgehammer in his right hand. He opened at last the desk drawers and a wide smile came over his face. A satisfied chuckle escaped him as he picked up a white bundle a little bigger than his hands, wound with yellow cords and carrying a timer thrust into the top.
The others awaited him impatiently, sitting on the floor or leaning up against the walls. They watched him curiously carry the package as he ran past them down the stairs to the blockade. He gently put it down where it could sit without falling off.
“You better stand back for this one. It’s going to give a little bang,” Lars said and began to fiddle with the timer.
“What in Celestia’s name do you have there?” Crescent asked and backed away.
“High explosives. That’ll clear the rubble right out.”
Karrod had come up next to him to see better but then pulled his head back sharply and turned around.
“I hope for the sake of us all that you know what you’re doing.” Crescent and Karrod galloped up the stairs with the guards. Lars took a few more moments to set the timer properly and then followed them. They had just barely gotten up into the corridor again when a loud explosion clutched at their hearts. A cloud of dust bellowed up and covered them. When it cleared again, they all had a fine layer of dirt on them.
Lars peered around the corner. Light streamed out through a small hole in the debris. “It isn’t much, but I doubt we can afford another one.”
“Then we better get a move on,” Crescent said and took the lead down again. Large cracks tore at the walls and the low rumbling still reverberated. Several of the guards coughed or rubbed their eyes from unpreparedness, but blindly hobbled along. The ceiling bulged down, as if the tons of earth on top threatened to cave in at any moment.
The guard captain was first to try. He could just barely fit into the hole and needed a slight push from his lieutenant to make it. Next was Lars who had the usage of his hands to grip the wall on the other side and propel him forward. He tumbled out and landed headfirst. It a few guards several minutes to squeeze through, so when the third had come to the other side, Lars raised his hand.
“This could take all day, and I we won’t need everyone to come with us.”
“Mr Leland speaks the truth. Karrod, guard the hole.” The zebra saluted and so Lars, with Crescent and three guards, moved further into the complex.
The facility didn’t change and was the same mix of long-winded hallways with sharp corners slanting downwards. Most of the other ways were blocked however. Whole laboratories had been buried beneath dirt and stone spilling out into the corridor. A few robots meandered about but they could barely manage to raise their guns before getting sliced up. Their empty husks fell to the ground with a sputter.
They came to a large room with two doors on each of the four walls. An ornate fountain stood in the middle with benches surrounding it. No water sprayed from it any longer but it was still in a remarkable shape. All of the entrances looked to be blocked off however. Still Lars made sure to check them all. A short laughter rung through the wall when he came to the lowest one.
“We are in luck! The one door we needed is the only one accessible.” He waved over the others who were otherwise busy marvelling at the grandeur. Faded pictures hung on the walls and it was anyone’s guess what they had once shown. “Look. It’s just down this straight corridor.”
“What is just straight down that corridor?” Crescent asked impatiently. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re all getting a little tired and claustrophobic.”
“I’m not sure, but the sign says ‘Centre for the Crimson Plague’ above the door. I guess the rest is, or was, sleeping quarters and recreational facilities.”
“No time like the present. Make way.”
Crescent pushed Lars aside and forced the wooden door open. He remained standing in the doorway, unsure what to do or say.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Large square pads, ten in all, were lined up against the walls with enough space to walk two and two between them. They were red while the floor and all the surfaces had been painted blue. Lars entered and squatted down next to a pad. Deep gashes had rent the machine and exposed its delicate belly of wires and electronics. “Looks like the fabricants teleported here.”
“You can stay here,” Crescent said in a tired voice to his stallions. They put hoofs to their heads and resumed their exploration after stealing a few peeks, more than happy to get a chance to rest. “So if they weren’t broken, you could have used them to backtrack to whoever was behind the attack?”
“It’s possible,” Lars said and got up again, brushing off his purple pants. “These are used mostly for transport within the facility but could send someone a short distance away. But it doesn’t matter now. The fabricants broke them after teleporting here and no doubt also all the cave ins we’ve seen so far.”
“Then we shouldn’t dwell on it. I just want to find a cure or something like that so we can get out of here.”
Lars nodded and they walked the last distance. He pushed open the door but this time, it was his turn to get his breath taken from him. They stood on a small platform suspended over a bottomless pit. A pillar that filled almost the entire width of the room drooped down from the ceiling and the two were connected by a narrow walkway.
“This… I…” he stammered and looked around stupefied. “I don’t know what to say, I mean… I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Is that thing reaching aboveground?” Crescent asked with some concern and craned his neck. They were mere ants in comparison with the machine before them and it took another few minutes to walk around it.
Lars traced a hand across the yellow surface, sending goosebumps up his arms. “I-I-I believe it is. Just what kind of research did they do down here?” There was a control panel on the other side, nothing more than a large metallic box with a lever. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say this thing is pumping Crimson Plague directly into Canterlot. But that’s impossible. That would mean it was humans who created the disease that threatened to wipe us out.”
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem a little crude compared to the technology here?” Crescent put his hooves up on the railing and gazed down into the abyss. “By Celestia, I can’t even see an end to this.”
“You might be right. I’ve never seen switches on a Prima City invention before,” Lars said and grabbed the box at its sides. The lever was pushed up to “On” so he tried to yank it down. Regardless of how hard he tucked at it, however, it simply wouldn’t budge. He kicked it in frustration, remembering too late his bare feet. He clutched the railing for support with one hand and his foot with the other. Just as he cried out, a door on the box creaked open and his pain was forgotten. A large indentation shaped like a vase sat in the middle among all the gears.
“Didn’t we have something shaped like that?” Crescent asked. Lars panicky examined his hands.
“Please don’t tell me I left it all the way back at the entrance?”
Hoofsteps rung through the vast emptiness. A guard galloped towards them with a red, vase-shaped object balancing on his back. He came to a screeching halt and bowed down.
“We suddenly remembered this thing and thought you might need it.”
“Thank you very much, I was worried there for a moment. Let’s see if it fits then.”
Lars took the burden off of the guard’s shoulders and carefully carried it to the box. It wouldn’t quite go into the hole however, no matter how Lars twisted or turned it. A minty green hoof shot out of nowhere and kicked it into place. The metallic box emitted a low hum as a sign of working again.
“You could have destroyed it!” Lars said in a shocked tone and waved his arms at Crescent.
“As I said, we all just want to go home. And I didn’t destroy it so just turn the machine off, please.”
Lars raised a finger but could not argue against the proposition. He jerked away from Crescent and wrapped his hand around the lever knob. It flowed unhindered down to “Off” in one smooth motion. A background noise they hadn’t even noticed before turned off and the silence hung heavy in their ears.
“Now to make sure no one else ever uses this thing again.” Crescent took the sword from his side and lifted it high up into the air. He brought it down like a sack of bricks on the box before Lars could stop him. Even the hum was then gone. “Private Sunshine, kick it down.”
“Yes sir!” the guard said excitedly and crouched down in front of the box. It took just one mighty kick to send it flying down into the darkness.
“Will there be any permanent damages?” Crescent asked with face as far into the darkness as his neck would allow it, listening for a clunk that would never come.
“Everyone should be fine after such a short time. The problem in my time was the constant exposure from the polluted air. I still can’t believe that we made our own downfall.” He sighed crestfallen and leant up against the railing.
Crescent looked up again and started the walk back. “Look at it this way, Mr Leland. The facility is rigged up to Canterlot and the security doesn’t recognise you. I think it’s safe to say this was pony made.”
“No, the architecture is too dead on to be coincidental. This facility is from my time but…” Lars gave the impressive machinery a last look as they passed around it. “It looks to have been modified at some point, however clumsily.”
“There you go, Mr Leland, don’t let it get you down. You’ve accomplished many things on this day after all.”
The walk back felt much longer for the party, probably because they were now going up not to mention the sheer exhaustion of getting down in the first place. It was a sweaty group of ponies and man that breached the surface again. Several guards saluted them as they exited the hole again. A large crowd had gathered around the broken statue and cheered on as well. The Princess was missing however but her chambermaid was there instead. Granny Pie personally greeted Lars and dragged him out of the crowd, where Crescent showered in the praise with Karrod by his side.
“The heavy blanket threatening to crush us has been lifted. I feel twenty years younger already,” she said and smiled heartwarmingly up at him. “So, did you find any answers down there?”
“Sadly no.” Lars sighed and followed her through the throng up towards the castle grounds. “If anything, I have even more questions now. The whole complex must have been buried down there for centuries and the security didn’t recognise me. I am wholly confused by this mess and I am no step closer to getting home either.”
“The Princess wishes to see you on that account, once she’s gotten some rest. I don’t think she’s slept the last four days.”
“I could use some as well,” he replied and stretched until his back creaked. “I’m all sore everywhere.”
It was no good. The facility was too destroyed to be of any use to me and those damnable fabricants had made a mess of the place. I’m still not sure if this place is supposed to be earth either, because how else was that facility supposed to have gotten here? I’m also starting to sense some hostile vibes from my former guide, Butterscotch Delight, as well. He mingled with the squadron escorting me down into the hole and disappeared behind a cave in. I sense his involvement in this, in all of this, but I am yet unaware of the extent. But I did become the Princess’ champion, thus earning her trust. She knows more than she lets on. A good night’s sleep has done wonders. Even if Celestia hadn’t invited me, I would have gone to her.
CHAPTER 5 PART 1: THE MISSING GUARD
Lars Leland, a human among ponies, entered the throne room where Celestia sat at the very end. The guards did not react in the least to him or the large sword on his back. Late morning light cast their shine through the high windows and glistened in the waters surrounding the throne. A young, purple unicorn was using her magic trying to lift several heavy stones in front of the steps. It took every bit of her concentration just to get them off ground.
Celestia looked up to see Lars enter and smiled down at the filly. “You’ve worked hard, Twilight. Why don’t you take a break?” The one named Twilight nodded and the spell was broken. The stones crashed to the ground and startled her, making her take a jump back. “Remember; don’t get distracted no matter what when performing spells. Go outside for a bit, the fresh air will help clear your mind.”
“Sure,” Twilight replied and laughed as she skipped past Lars in a hurry. He looked behind him to follow her with his eyes.
“Cute. Is she yours?”
“Goodness, no,” Celestia chuckled. “She’s my latest student and the most promising one at that. The fate of Equestria will rest on her shoulders so it’s important she’ll be prepared.”
“I don’t know, she looked a little spaced-out if you ask me.” Lars came to a rest before the throne and put a fist under his chin before extending it into the air.
“And a good morning to you, Lars Leland. Your own accomplishments are not undeserving of merit either. I’m sure you have many questions for me by now.”
“I have a few, yeah. Mind telling me what it is you’re hiding from me? And what you were doing with that battery? It fit a little too well into a machine at the bottom level of the facility.” His tone was enquiring and his hands on his side. Celestia merely observed him silently for a moment, her hair waving in an unseen wind.
“I have kept some things from you, and for that, I apologise. It was my belief you were better off not knowing, but you prove yourself again and again to be stronger than I think. I will reveal all… eventually. First there are things that must be done and preparations to do. You have found an enemy who threatens to reveal ancient evils and you are caught up in the middle of all this.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured all that myself,” he replied and shifted the weight on his feet. “Could you tell me something I don’t already know?”
“You are getting impatient with me, and I understand. Before we begin, however, I ask of you as a friend to deal with an, uh… indiscretion of mine.” Lars looked one big question mark with his head tilting to one side. Celestia blushed and hid her face behind a wing. “There are many perks to being an immortal creature of untold magic, but there are also many downsides. I knew of them all and yet I did what I did. I have no excuses but you must understand, I was weak after several days of enduring the Crimson Plague.”
“Don’t tell me you had an aff–” Lars began but Celestia spread her wings and suddenly became much larger than she ordinarily seemed, making him take a step back.
“What is done is done, Lars Leland. There is one important issue, one crucial reason that I am never allowed the comfort of another pony. Even a simple kiss can drive a mortal mind insane, to think nothing of what combining flesh will do.”
“How…” Lars began without knowing how to finish the sentence. Celestia shrank again, folding her wings close and bowing her head.
“Alicorns are beings of raw magic. In moments of weakness, we transfer some of that power to our partner. It isn’t too much of a problem when we’re younger and our magic more undeveloped, but in my age magic flows through me like my blood. I was so very tired and he only wanted to comfort me. Now he roams the streets of Canterlot, out of his mind and rambling lies and slander.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. Millennia of public composure had taught her how to keep her feelings at bay. “Find him and kill him. There is no more hope for him except death.”
“You can’t seriously ask me to kill him. Isn’t it you who always speaks of peaceful approaches?” he protested with arms swinging wide but Celestia looked up at him with sorrowful eyes, suddenly appearing much older than she normally looked.
“Do you think it’s easy for me? He was my most trusted guard. If I really loved him I should have pushed him away. No matter how much it would have hurt, anything would be better than the madness he now endures. Do not make me ask this of you as your Princess.”
Lars looked down at his feet, his hands finding the belt whereto was strapped the ceremonial green dagger he had received for becoming her Champion. “Anything for you… Celestia. You can count on my silence but please do make me do this again.”
A bright, warm aura surrounded her and royal pride entered her posture again as she sat up like she usually did. “Thank you, and please do not underestimate him. He was still new to his position but you don’t enter my inner circle without skill. Do not die out there, Lars Leland. Things have been set into motion and I need you to stop them.”
With no clues to go on, Lars sought out Granny Pie directly after leaving the Princess’ company. She was not to be found at her usual post by the entrance so he continued to wander outside. An elderly mare with a light purple coat and paling pink mane sat on a bench next to the stairs.
“It’s a chill, foreboding day,” Granny Pie said and drew her shawl tighter. “I wonder if something’s going to happen today.”
“I’m looking for a runaway guard, Mrs Pie. You wouldn’t have heard anything to that effect?”
“Rumours would have it that a frustrated guard walks about Celestia’s Reach, grumbling to himself and yelling at anypony who comes too close.”
Twilight rushed past him and up the stairs again. “Is the fate of Equestria really resting on her?” he asked
“The Princess is of that belief. It is certain that filly has an interesting cutie mark, almost like a mark of fate.”
A bitterly cold wind blew through Canterlot and Lars grabbed his collar and drew it up to his cheek. “Thank you. It sounds like the guard I’m looking for.”
He had walked a little, observing how some ponies braved the cold weather to do their shopping with bags flying around them, when a voice called out into his ears.
“Are you sure you wish to tangle with one of Celestia’s handpicked guards?” Greenhately asked.
“I beat Karrod, didn’t I? It can’t go completely wrong with you at my side.”
“Well, that is true. I could help you do anything you wanted, even if you wanted to do the impossible. I’m merely urging to caution. Celestia’s bodyguards are nothing like the regular ones. They’re on a completely different level.”
“Well you know a lot for someone with no interest in these ponies.” Lars smirked, which for anypony watching him would just seem like he thought of a funny joke. Greenhately scoffed.
“I have no interest in these lower creatures. It is you that I worry about. If you succeed in finding your way back… I want you to take me with you. If you promise as much then I will make you my knight.”
“Whoa, whoa, what’s that about?” he asked and stopped up suddenly. A pony walking her dog nearly bumped into him and grumbled at him as she adjusted her hat.
“If you become my knight, then you will have full access to all of my awe-inspiring abilities. You will become immortal with power beyond your comprehension.”
“But…” Lars walked again towards an arch declaring ‘Celestia’s Reach.’
“What you have tasted so far has only been a sample of what you can do. You can’t even imagine what it will be like wielding me fully.”
“I will think about it,” he said, though his voice sounded unconvinced.
Celestia’s Reach was a part of Canterlot he had already visited, a place filled with large mansions on long rows. The ponies inhabiting the place were all dressed in fine clothes or hats, had any of them been outside. Instead, the neighbourhood was quiet as the grave and drapes had been drawn for all the windows. Again a wind blew but Lars’ suit was well-insulated.
“I think we’re in the right place,” he muttered, cautiously taking the claymore into his hands. Again it felt like it had no weight at all. Without even thinking about it, Lars equipped it with only one hand as he walked down the main streets.
There was a noise off to his left, in the dark between two large houses, like someone talking himself. Lars ventured closer and saw the silhouette of a pony. A single beam of sunlight snuck into the darkness and fell on the glistening gold armour.
“Hello?” Lars called. The shape turned its head but made no other movements. “Identify yourself!”
The guard came out of the shadows slowly with a paranoid gleam to his eyes. He was unwilling to focus on Lars and instead concentrated on the sky. “She – she watches us through the sun. That’s how she knows what – what we’re thinking.”
“You’re not well, friend. Just put down your weapons and let me help you.” He had his claymore in hands but the tip pointed away.
“No. No, you’re – you’re one of them,” the guard said and found the green dagger around Lars’ waist. “She knows that I know and now – now she sends you, her champion, to silence me.”
“Would the Celestia you know do something like that?”
The question threw him off guard and he looked away again. “He’s trying to trick me. He must not know that I am a guard. After all, who would know better than me? Always plotting, always scheming. But I will not let them. I can’t let them.”
The guard drew the sword from his side and held it between his teeth. Lars raised his own weapon and pointed it at the guard. “Don’t do something we’ll both regret. Just put it down.”
A single tear trailed down the guard’s cheek, but still he jumped and Lars blocked it. The guard was like possessed and though his eyes rolled back, he managed to keep up the attacks while switching between heaving and laughing. Lars was pushed out into the middle of the street, dodging as quickly as the guard could attack but with no window to fight back. The guard jumped back and took his sword into his hooves and reared. Lars took the chance and darted forward. The two swords barely missed each other. Lars’ claymore stabbed thin air next to the guard’s head, while the guard pushed his own sword into Lars left shoulder. It went all the way through the fabric and out on the other side.
Time was like frozen. Lars peeled his eyes open in surprise. His shirt was supposed to be indestructible against anything… from his own world. The guard’s sword glowing with magic was the last he saw before it was retracted and he fell backwards. The world spun before his eyes before fading into black. He could still hear the guard leaving and a few scattered gasps from the windows.
“That’s some soup you got yourself into, and as always, you probably expect me to clean it up. Hey now, don’t be like that. Open your eyes.”
It didn’t hurt anymore. He felt as light as a feather. Opening his eyes just came naturally to him. He lay on the floor of an old factory building, where the windows up high were shattered and let light in from a grimy, poisonous-looking sky.
“If this is Heaven, then I want a refund,” Lars said and took to his head. His dirty-blonde hair was still there, as was the stubbles of an unshaven chin.
“Not Heaven. Just a place in the between.” Greenhately, going by the voice, stood next to him, a broad-shouldered man with a great tan, powerful jaw and perfect choppers. “I bet you did not expect me to be as handsome as this.”
“No, I must say you look… quite different than I imagined. Kind of like a television host,” he said and sat up.
Greenhately laughed hollowly and smoothed back his shiny, blonde hair. Everything about him glinted from his silky blue trousers and purple velvet shirt to his teeth. “This is my world. You remember that gorgeous orb at the bottom of your claymore. That’s where I live, that’s where we are now.”
Something dawned on Lars and he frantically patted his shirt around where he had been stabbed but there was nothing to be seen. “M-my wound, what happened to…”
“You’re only here in spirit, not in flesh. I’m currently healing you. Phew, I tell you,” Greenhately said and dragged Lars up on his feet. He was nearly a head taller than Lars. “A little more to the left and you’d be a goner. Even a breath-taking guy like me could not have helped you then. Well, unless…”
“Unless what?” Lars asked, uncomfortable with the big, orangey hand pressing him up against its owner’s pecs.
“Well, if you promise to take me with you away from those primitive creatures, then I will make you my knight. You are still intent on going back to the human world, yes?” Greenhately pressed a large finger against Lars’ chest and winked at him.
“I am working on it, sure. But what are you even doing here then?”
“Oh, that’s the worst part. I don’t even know,” he replied and dramatically put a hand to his forehead while moving away from Lars. “But if you have considered my offer, you will be immortal. You will never have to worry about dying! You will have strength beyond your wildest imagination.”
“And what would you get out of this?” Lars asked with arms crossed across his chest.
“Of course, I will get out of here with you,” Greenhately assured and flashed his pearly whites.
“The answer is no. I have no interest in immortality.”
“I’m not doing this for me! It’s for you,” Greenhately said and grabbed Lars’ shoulder. “You need my help to get out of here. Just look at you. Died by that guard’s hoofs.”
“I said no! Now if my body is ready again, I would like to get out of here,” Lars replied with a steely face. Greenhately observed him for a long while, before sighing deeply.
“Very well. But just say the word at any time and it will all be yours.”
The world faded away into darkness once more. An earthly feel flushed over Lars and all of his limbs tingled at once. They were unresponsive at first, but as the light entered his vision so did his mobility. There was no pain, only a warm feel where the sword had made contact with his flesh. His hand crawled up along his belly and found the chest. He could feel the naked flesh and fresh blood mixed in with frayed fibres but there was no hole.
“What have I gotten myself into,” he grumbled and sat up with ease. “I feel like a whole new man, too. What did you do to me?”
“Just a simple spell of restoration. As long as you don’t die then I can still heal you, all right?” Greenhately said in his mind.
“Right, right, I got it. But we need to do something differently. It was a little too close for comfort this time.”
He looked around him, the blood pool underneath him making him jump to his feet.
“It’s because you’re still struggling against me. I could better fight if you would just let me. Remember, I can’t give you the power without your consent.”
“I’ll be keeping that mind. God, I have blood inside the suit as well,” he said with goosebumps crawling up his arms.
The guard was nowhere to be seen so Lars had to wander around for a while. It was a large neighbourhood but most of the space was taken up by mansions. The space left was the road and a few back alleys. He found the guard again in one such alley with his mouth wrapped around the hilt of his sword.
“You’re dead. I killed you myself!” His eyes widened in terror and leapt. Lars unsheathed his sword with one swift motion and instantaneously blocked the strike.
“Do your thing,” Lars whispered, and immediately felt another presence caressing his hands. The sword moved of its own as did his legs. “The rumours of my death are greatly exaggerated,” he said aloud to which the guard gritted his teeth.
“No… my sword. Your chest. That hole. I don’t understand thing!” he howled as he hacked furiously away at Lars. Greenhately was more capable of blocking the rapid hits with his own speed. Lars smiled at seeing his arms move like he would never be able to. It only acted as a taunt towards the guard who gave it all he had. He jumped back again and took the sword into his hoofs, lifted it overhead and leapt again. The force behind it was magical. The sword glowed with the effort and spread long shadows in the alley. Lars lifted his own claymore up to protect himself and was promptly pushed back.
“Hmph. Quite powerful. But wait’ll you see this!”
“Greenhately, don’t!”
But it was too late. First, his arm pushed the guard back. Second, he exploited the guard staggering to make a side swipe. So much power went into the slash that the claymore cut through the armour and sank into the flesh and broke the bones as well. The blade had gone deep into the guard’s chest. When Lars’ foot kicked him off the blade, the guard sank into a pool of his own blood.
“This is why you get hurt, you know? You lack the resolve to kill,” Greenhately said. His presence again faded from Lars’ limbs and the tip of the claymore fell tip first into the ground.
“Perhaps so. But there might still have been a chance to save him.” Lars stepped away from the seeping blood on bare feet and crouched down next to the guard.
With what little strength he had left, the guard looked up at Lars and smiled. “T-thank you… outlander. I was… not myself. Tell the Princess… tell her not… to worry. And give her… this.” The guard took a necklace from under his armour and hoofed it on to Lars. “I am happy… that I could… make her happy. I regret… nothing.”
The guard rested his head on the ground and closed his eyes with a satisfied smile on his lips. Lars said nothing as he got up. He was quiet all the way back to the castle. Perhaps if his thoughts hadn’t been distracted, he would see that blade was clean. Blood was also missing from where it had rested. He did hear a slight burp reverberating in his mind but didn’t think anything of it.
CHAPTER 5 PART 2: THE HUMAN GUN
Lars poked his head into throne room but found it empty aside from the usual row of guards lining the walls.
“The Princess asked me to direct you to the forge.”
Granny Pie had appearing behind him and nearly scared him into falling through the doors. Instead he turned around clutching his chest. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again.”
She chuckled until she saw the hole in his suit and the blood. “Whatever did the Princess ask you to do? Dearie, are you all right?” She licked her hoof and started rubbing the blood off his exposed flesh but Lars grabbed the arm and gently put it down.
“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Pie. I’m in no pain or danger at least. As for my errand, I can’t speak of it. Sorry.” He added an encouraging smile as she searched his face with her deep eyes.
“Very well then. Come along,” she said and ran off at a good trod, down the stairs and into the right wing of the castle.
“Not this again,” he muttered and hastily followed her.
The elderly mare stayed just far enough ahead for him to see her fluffy tail swish around corners as they went towards the end of the castle. A large wooden door protected a small room where a forge stood along with an anvil, a heavy table beset with iron bands and several ponies. Most prominently Celestia who seemed all the bigger in such a small room.
“This here’s the human what save Canterlot and all?” a gruff pegasus said, leaning in over his anvil. His coat was of a most royal purple colour, but his barrel shape and stunted wings gave him the perfect looks for a blacksmith. Perhaps not surprisingly, his cutie mark was of anvil with several lightning bolts flying off of it.
“This is Lars Leland. Lars Leland, Lightning Roller, the royal smith. We have an interesting proposal for you,” Celestia said and bowed her head down to the pegasus. He wiped his nose with a broad stroke of his left arm.
“How do you do?” he grumbled in a somewhat friendly tone. He got off the anvil again and what he had been hiding nearly made Lars lose his jaw.
“Where did you get these?” he asked as he approached the striking implement. Two tools looking like bulb horns lay displayed, both of them a scarlet red and one of them cracked open.
“One of them was brought back by my guards after your deal with the undead, which made me remember we had something similar in the royal vaults,” Celestia explained calmly.
“None of them worked, ya see, but with some reverse engineering and a bit of jury rigging, I managed to get the one from the vault working. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Lars asked with a raised eyebrow. Lightning Roller nodded.
“A key component is missing. Some blue fiddly things.” He pointed to the opened gun where two deep grooves ran parallel inside the round part. “I’m guessing batteries, but the one from the vault were missing its and the one the guards brought back was almost destroyed.”
“So I have to find two replacement batteries for the Bulb Horn Gun before I can get it working. May I ask why I would need a Bulb Horn Gun in the first place?” He was looked up at Celestia but the Princess merely observed him with half-closed eyes.
“It will not be safe where you are going, Lars Leland. Only you can go and there will undoubtedly be more fabricants that you can count. I would feel a lot less guilty sending you off with a weapon you are familiar with.”
“Bah, what does she know? You and I could take on any foes,” Greenhately said.
“It will be good to have a familiar weapon in my hands again. Though why can’t I just use the same gun as the one that skeleton used? It worked fine when he shot at me,” he said and picked up the one that wasn’t cracked up. It nearly fell apart in his hands. The surface was scratched and cracked and the nozzle was severely bent.
“The magic that kept the skeleton animated, for want of a better word, also kept his equipment intact. Once the spell was broken, well, you see the result,” Celestia said and levitated the gun back.
“This all sounds very mysterious, but you trusted me with a heavy task,” he said and put a fist under his chin. “I’ll trust you on this as well. You can explain everything to me once I return. And, I have something for you.” Lars took the necklace from one of the seamless pockets in his suit and held it up. A shadow of mourning passed over Celestia’s face. She accepted the necklace without another word, and Lars quietly left.
A few minutes later, when he was back outside in the courtyard in front of the castle, Granny Pie brushed up against him to stand before him. “So, do you have any idea where to go?” she asked.
“I think I do. Karrod certainly had an interesting weapon, wouldn’t you say? Almost looked like it had been repaired with a lot of different materials over the years.”
“That weapon is the only thing he had with him when he came to Canterlot. I doubt he will just let you handle it like that.”
A grin crept over his face, but he quickly coughed it away. “Ah, well, we’ll just have to wait and see,” he said mysteriously and hastily crossed the plaza.
Granny Pie respectfully declined going into the barracks and chose to wait outside. Lars went inside alone and found Karrod through the corridors and up the stairs. Lars dragged him into a side room where several heavy sacks were stored along with wooden crates. He sat down on one of them and Karrod sat down opposite him.
“Can I have a look at your weapon for a moment?” Lars asked with both hands on his knees. “Please?”
“Ah, you are a connoisseur of weapons?” Karrod took the sickle from inside his armour and Lars gently took it into his hands. “The sickle is widely used where I come from but rarely as a weapon. It takes skill to wield it properly.”
“What have you done with the hilt?” He held the blade by the dull side so he could examine the handle. A string of thin thread had been wrapped around it to hold several sticks and rods in place.
“A little trick my pappy showed me. The hilt can get very slippery, especially when used as a weapon, so I wrap a few extra things around it to get a better grip.”
“Would you mind if I…” he began while digging one of the rods free enough for him to examine. It was of a sky blue collar and shaped like a glow stick.
“By all means. You may even have the whole weapon if you so desire. I have no right to hold back to one who defeated me in honest combat,” he said sincerely and with a big smile drawn up to his eyes.
“It’s almost weird to hear you speak. Then again, I guess I didn’t really know you too well before, either.” He loosened the plant fibre so he could wriggle the blue stick free. Without it inside, however, the whole thing came undone and a host of unknown cylinders spilled into his lap. Karrod reared his head back and laughed loudly. “You can have the sickle back and all of these things too,” he said and handed the weapon back. He began to pick up some of the wooden and metal sticks, but Karrod placed a hoof on the back of his hand.
“It’s all right, Lars. That blue thing must be important to you, so I shan’t keep you any longer.”
“You’re not interested in knowing why I want it?”
Karrod shook his head and put the sickle back inside his armour. “I am sure you will have a much greater story to tell me later. And thank you for keeping my secret. You are a good man, Lars. I hope that you do find a way back.”
The midday sun was high in the sky and Lars had to shield his eyes with the palm of his hand as he stepped outside. Granny Pie waited for him on a bench not far away, observing the birds gathering around the food crumbs spread by people. They scattered as Lars approached and flew up into the glorious blue sky.
“Is it always this good a weather?” he asked and took a seat next to her. “I’ve been here almost two weeks and I don’t think I’ve even seen a single raincloud.”
“Cloudsdale controls the weather. We’re not getting a storm unless they want one,” she chuckled. “So, did you get it?”
“Right here,” he said and held up the battery between his fingers. Granny Pie studied it for a moment and then took a pair of blue, horn-rimmed spectacles from under shawl.
“Kind of… small. This will really make that gun thing work?” she asked and adjusted her glasses.
“That’s why I need two. But I have no idea where to find a second one. It must be some kind of miracle for me to have found just this one.” He clenched it in his fist and looked at it with a melancholic smile, before putting it into a seamless pocket where it disappeared without a trace.
“Now hold on just a minute,” she said thoughtfully and paused a moment. “I know I’ve seen something like that before… yes. Yes! Come along.”
“No racing this time,” he said as he got to his feet. She gave him a teasing smile that made her seem much younger for an instant before the wrinkles creased up her face.
“Just a brisk pace, then.”
Her idea of brisk pace kept him at a half run throughout a large part of Canterlot, through a narrow alley and off down a street he had never visited before. The ponies there all minded their own businesses and kept themselves hidden under hats and hoods. The shop signs were innocuous like everywhere else but the windows were grimy and showed dimly lit interiors.
One particular shop had a sign with a mare running with a banner, spilling pots behind her. The door gave a chime as Granny Pie opened it. A few items were spread around the shelves, mostly books, but also a few curiosities. A clerk stepped out of the shadow, wearing a red scarf and brown shirt. “May I help you, outlander?” he asked and fixed the hat on top of his head. “Something drew you to my shop and I wonder what it is?”
“He’s with me, Mr Ends, and we’re looking for something in particular.”
“Madam Pie, you are always welcome here!” he replied and put a hoof up on his desk. A gilded cage stood next to him and though no bird could be seen, it still chirped. “So what interests you today? Buy or sell?”
“Buy, this time. That shield behind you in fact.”
Mr Ends looked up at the shelf and quickly found the copper shield that she pointed to. “You should know better, Madam Pie. My special selection is not for sale.”
“As a diplomat, the price will not be an issue,” Lars said and went up to the desk. “Five thousand bits? Ten?”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand me,” Mr Ends said with a sly smile, completely undisturbed by the outrageous sums. “That aegis was worn by Celestia’s third champion in battle. It is a priceless artefact completely beyond mere money.”
“How about a trade then?” Granny Pie interjected. “I’m sure we could find you something to replace that dingy old shield?”
The clerk scoffed with a derisive laughter. “Madam Pie, you should know how long it has taken me to gather these artefacts. There’s no way you can just pull out something that would make me reconsider.”
“You’re interested in items worn by champions? How about this then?” Lars took off his strap and placed the ceremonial dagger on the desk. Mr End’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. “You do know what this is?”
“Of course I know what this is,” Mr Ends said and unsheathed it. He held the naked, green dagger up to his face. “This is a gift given to the current champion, made of the finest volcanic glass there is. Quite useless in combat as it would undoubtedly shatter if you tried, but the craftsmanship is legendary…” He coughed and gently packed the dagger away again and pushed it across the desk. “But that hardly counts as an artefact, given its young age.”
“When will you ever get an item like that in your hoofs again?” Granny Pie asked and pushed the dagger back towards him. “The dagger for the shield.”
“Out of the question. One artefact could never replace another.”
“How about two then?” Lars asked, to which Mr Ends nearly spurted with laughter.
“TWO artefacts? Where in the world would you get a second!” he retorted.
“Are you certain that we need that shield?” Lars whispered to Granny Pie. She nodded. “Then hold the fort while I run a quick errand. I’ll be right back.”
Right back quickly became thirty minutes before Lars entered the shop again. He was holding a long stick in his hands that he carefully fitted through the entrance and leant up against the desk. The shaft was made of dark wood and the metallic head was ornately carved. Mr Ends admired the weapon and lit a lantern to see it better.
“Unbelievable. The Blessed Spear, a personal gift from Celestia herself to her sixth champion and later reclaimed by her upon his death. Thought to be collecting dust in the Canterlot treasure vaults. How did you… no, I don’t even want to know. The dagger and the spear for the shield. A fair trade if I must say so myself.”
Mr Ends gave the shelves a good kick. While everything collected there swayed back and forth, only the shield plumped down on his back. He swung his haunches and the shield landed on the desk.
“Thank you very much for your generosity,” Lars said and took the shield into his hands. It was dented and had more than a few dried splatters of blood on it. More interestingly, a small rod had been jammed into the middle like a dull spike. They hadn’t even gone out of the doors before Lars began to fiddle with it. Mr Ends had gone back to a backroom; otherwise he would certainly be horrified to see the offence being committed. Lars had no use for the rest of the shield and ditched it on a table before leaving the shop.
“I hope that gun of yours will be worth two priceless artefacts, dear,” Granny Pie said and smiled up at him.
It wasn’t long after that he himself pressed the two rods into their groove. Despite a few scratches and marks of time, they required only minor pushing to get wedged in. Lightning Roller reconnected the two halves of the gun again with his dexterous wings that acted almost like hands. Lars then picked up the assembled gun and swung it around. The bulb part proved difficult to turn and the gun was unwilling to shoot anything out of it.
“That’s odd. It should be working now. Are you sure you put it together right?” Lars asked the blacksmith. Lightning Roller sniffed and wiped his nose.
“Sure as pie, sir. You want it, I can build it. It’s the batteries if you want my opinion. A thousand years of inactivity can’t have been good for them.”
“Hmm.” Lars scratched his chin and held the gun in his palm. “We used to have these charging stations at all military facilities. Finding one now could be problematic…” He looked up as an idea flashed through his mind, the enlightenment shining on his face. “But, I think I saw one down in the facility when I was hunting for explosives.”
“You’re not going down there again?” Celestia asked with some concern to her voice. “I’ve already ordered the hole sealed up again, and a replacement statue is being installed as we speak.”
“Then I’d better hurry. Don’t close the hole before I get back!” He waved behind him as he hurried out of the forge.
CHAPTER 5 PART 3: BACK INTO THE PIT
The workers with their denim shirts were being watched by a guard. Perhaps because of the statue that they were preparing to install, or perhaps because they feared retribution from the fabricants. Lars could have spared them the dread by telling them how all the teleporters had been broken, but they probably wouldn’t understand if he tried.
The plinth with the hatch had been removed as well, and left was just the hole. A couple of scruffy earth ponies were discussing what to do with it when Lars interrupted them. “Stop what you’re doing right now. I need to get into that hole.”
They looked up at him, unhappy with the intrusion. “Yeah, and who are you? This is official work going on here,” the left one said, with an orange hard hat on his head. Several of the workers grunted in agreement but the guard stepped forward and commanded silence by butting his spear into the ground.
“Foreman, this is Lars Leland on orders from the Princess,” he said with an odd wink to his eyes at Lars. “He won’t be long, just let him through.”
The foreman with the orange helmet murmured something rude before whistling to one of his workers. A young stallion galloped forward with the ladder bouncing on his back and threw it down the hole. Lars put his hand under his chin and nodded at the workers, then jumped down into the hole.
The lack of light was no problem as the pommel quickly ignited and illuminated a large area around it. Greenhately’s voice was soon to follow in his ears as he descended.
“Are you sure you want to trust these ponies? They could easily seal up the hole after you.”
“Yeah, but why would they? Stop being so negative!” There was a bounce to his steps walking back into the facility. The machines lay where they had left them yesterday, disturbed neither by hoof nor hand. Lars sprang over the lifeless husks and retraced his steps. It seemed much easier to progress, perhaps because he was alone or because he didn’t have to worry with the machines. He found the room again once he had finally gotten all the way down almost to the bottom floor.
The room was still there, still filled with the odd heaps of ashes. There was a desk at the end and some lockers around the walls but, most importantly, the machine he had come for standing in a niche. It was a hulky and ominous-looking piece of equipment, mostly just one large block of red metal with a single port where items could be inserted.
Lars placed the gun inside the hole but nothing happened. He traced a hand across the sleek surface looking for some kind of ignition button but felt only how the paint was peeling off in large strips.
“Well, that was that,” Greenhately said in feigned disappointment. “Guess we’d better go back and then you can just keep using me, how’s that? You might have to accept my powers, though. Sounds like you have a tough battle in front of you.”
“Not yet. There has to be a way to make this thing work.” There was not much room in the niche for him to wriggle it around with. All he could do was make it wobble back and forth in hopes of finding some way to activate it.
“Maybe it doesn’t have power?” Greenhately suggested.
“No, then the machine spreading the Crimson Plague wouldn’t have worked either. There has to be a way.”
“Excuse me, sir!” Lars turned around and nearly dropped to the floor out of shock. A see-through man hovered ever so slightly above an ash pile and stroked his prominent, curly beard. “I couldn’t help but notice that you wear the same clothes as us. How are you still alive?”
Lars clutched his chest where his heart pounded heavily. “I was sleeping… if that makes sense?”
A mournful gaze crossed the spirit, who looked down at his feet for just a moment. “So you’re one of them. Perhaps this is a fitting punishment; that you would survive and we would so cruelly be killed.”
“You know something about how I got here?” Lars asked hopefully but the spirit shook his head.
“No, it’s nothing. I’m guessing you wish to charge your gun, right? Then you need to fuel the machine first.”
Lars eyed the spirit suspiciously but eventually decided to play along. “All right, where do I get some fuel then?”
“Alas, this facility is rapidly crumbling. Any storage where you might have been able to find any fuel would be gone. But despair not, for I have seen beyond the walls of this facility. The tar pits may hold your answer.”
“Tar? You’re serious; I need to put tar into a delicate piece of machinery?”
The spirit nodded and started to fade away again. “Yes. It flows like oil in the natural caverns. Just fill a bottle from my desk and the machine should start again.” Its voice trailed off as it became less and less visible, leaving Lars in two minds.
“Sounds highly dubious to me. Let’s just go outside again,” Greenhately said.
“No, I think he’s right.” Lars directed his attention towards the machine again. His hands eventually found a panel on the upper part that slid open. A funnel could be seen leading into the machine. “This thing needs something to work with. Regular oil just goes right through it. A dense liquid might just be what it needs.”
“Suppose I accept that, where will you get access to the tar pits?”
“That is less of a problem than it might seem,” Lars answered and went to the desk. Sure enough, another package of explosives waited for him in one of the drawers. It was like a regular parcel with a white substance visible through the material, wound with string and equipped with a black timer. He did look nervously up at the ceiling that seemed to be bulging down from the weight of dirt on top. “I don’t think this is where this facility was originally placed. Or perhaps it was buried sometime in the past,” he muttered and also grabbed an old bottle of brandy. The liquid splashed out on the floor as he upturned it.
“So if you don’t want this place to cave in on us, where would you then go?”
“I’ll figure something out. Let’s just keep moving and see what we find.”
Lars moved through the hole he had previously blasted in a blockage and went down to the very bottom level. Before coming to the small room with fountains and paintings was a doorway filled with stone and rubble. He placed a hand on the debris and then put his head to a crack.
“I definitely feel a faint wind coming from beyond here. And I smell tar as well. This is perfect.” He wedged the explosive package into the fragile wall and set the timer. A minute later it exploded and sent shivers through the facility. A long-stretched groan ensued like the death blow of some huge beast. Dust rained down over him and it took him several moments with hands over his head before he dared go out and check the damage.
The facility was still standing, and a hole had been poked in the wall of debris. Lars wiped off some pebbles and other dirt before pushing himself through. The facility ended with the wall and what waited beyond were the wide natural caves that the spirit had told him about. The tar pits were all located at the bottom of the sloping passage and Lars resolutely went towards it.
“Well, never did I think you would come here. But I can’t allow you to go any further.” A guard stepped out of the shadows and smiled up at him. “I hope you’re not surprised to see me? This encounter has been long coming.”
Lars placed the bottle gently on the ground and went towards the guards. “Butterscotch?” he asked in half surprise, to which the pony laughed.
“Ding, ding, we have a winner!” The guard shrugged off his armour and his white coat quickly became purple. Silvery hair cascaded down his shoulder as he removed his helmet.
“How did you get your hooves on not one, but two guard amours?” Lars asked and took a step forward, but Butterscotch simply smiled calmly.
“Easy enough to make for the one whom originally designed them. Ah, but you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about, would you?”
“I do know that you’re hiding something. The guard armours were designed over a thousand years old!”
Butterscotch reared his back and laughed gently. “Then maybe I’m a thousand years old? I mean, you don’t know the first thing about me.”
“Well you’re a unicorn, so I know you’re not immortal.” Lars was closing the gap between them, but Butterscotch still stood at the bottom of the slope, smiling and scratching his chin.
“You know what my special talent is? Creating portals and going between worlds. It’s like sticking your hoof into a bag: you never know what you’ll pull out. What do you think we’ll get this time?” Yellow light shone from his horn, distending and warping the air. An inhuman growl came from within the distortion. “I would really like to stay and chat but you have ceased to amuse me any longer. It would be best for everyone if you just died here. I really only came to thank you. I would have remained asleep if it wasn’t for you, after all. Buh-bye!” The very space around him swirled to envelop him. Once it sproinged back he was gone.
“What was that about?” Lars asked and raised his claymore nervously as the space-time rift grew and the growls became warnings of murderous intent. “Has he just been playing with me this whole time?”
“I’m more interested in knowing how he is going to kill you. Such information would be vital to keep you alive,” Greenhately said.
A pair of hairy hands protruded from thin air and tugged at the rift from within. Their high placement suggested that something truly enormous waited at the other end.
“You know, there’s no shame in retreat. Do you really need that gun all that much? I’ve slain angels and demons and I was once used as a doorstop to the library of life.”
“Then you won’t have any problem helping me out here.”
“I… I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Two feet came out of the rift followed by their legs and soon the whole body. A gigantic ape stumbled out, his eyes red with rage. The creature was over three and half metres (twelve feet) tall and nearly reached the cavern ceiling. Its body was covered in coarse, brown hair and its fists were like boulders. It screamed with frenzied madness and made the already fragile place shake in its foundation.
“We need to take care of this thing quickly. That last explosion didn’t exactly help stabilise the place,” Greenhately said.
The ape was heaving with anger but was calm enough to survey its surroundings. It snorted at seeing Lars who couldn’t even measure up to its waist. It howled in frustration and banged its fists at the ground. Lars dodged its swipes only because his own legs reacted faster than he could think.
“Listen to me; I’m not the one who summoned you here!” Lars protested. Even if the ape could understand him, which was in itself dubious, it was too ticked off to heed his words.
“I doubt there’s any reasoning with it. Just get to the part where you use me to slice it up.” Lars resisted the voice in his head and continued to avoid the assaults.
“It’s just confused. It probably doesn’t even mean me any harm.”
“No of course not, that’s why it’s furiously trying to squash you.”
When the fists didn’t work, the ape instead resorted to its feet. The stomps were if possible even more powerful and great chunks of stone fell from the ceiling, making staying alive even harder.
“Your pacifism is irrational! It will kill the both of us if you don’t get to work soon!” Greenhately screamed into his ears. Lars was beginning to feel the exhaustion of running around the ape and between its legs. He panted slightly as he took a breather, waiting for the ape to realise he was behind it.
“It pains me to admit it, but… I guess there are no alternatives.” He raised the sword above his head, feeling the weight like a bag of feathers, and cut into the ape’s left leg. He barely made a scratch, but just enough for the ape to quickly turn around and kick Lars off his feet.
Lars tumbled along the ground and landed close to one of the tar pits. Seething bubbles erupted from the pitch black surface like a boiling brew. “It doesn’t seem like I can hurt it with just my sword. Do you think we could lure it into one of the pits?”
The ape came towards him with slobber falling from its jaw opened in rage. It stomped around the cave and seemed to have forgotten its enemy to blind rage.
“Well, I was naturally about to suggest that as well,” Greenhately said. “Get its attention first and then lead it towards a pit.”
Lars nodded and darted forward again. The ape had stopped its rampage and instead sniffed the air. It growled as Lars came nearer and swiped at him. Its brow was wrinkled in anger and its teeth bared. Lars manoeuvred out of the way of the hands and managed to cut it across the leg. It howled again and raised its fists up. They smashed into the ceiling and even the ape was surprised to hear the rumble that followed. Large cracks snaked across the ceiling and the dust clouds were bigger than ever. A deafening sound from heavy rubble falling came out of the dust, as did Lars with a cough. Once everything had settled, the big ape was then placed beneath a big pile of stones. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth and its eyes were distant.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to take care of things,” Greenhately said.
Lars watched the ape closely for a few minutes for signs of life, but it didn’t even appear to be breathing. He turned away from it and grabbed his bottle again. “You think these tar pits are hot? I don’t know, I guess I’ve always thought of them as being boiling masses of asphalt.”
“I think you think of something else. I should know, I can see your thoughts.”
Sometime later, Lars came back to the room with the machine and fed it. It took a few moments for it to spring to life with a hum. He placed the gun inside the receptacle. It tipped and revealed itself to be a chute. Churning noises came from it like a great beast crunching on his gun. The weapon had no signs of chewing marks however once Lars took it back. He held it in his hand and smiled from ear to ear.
“It really worked. There’s this tiny vibration coming from it once it’s charged. Barely noticeable, but using it for half my life, you really get to miss it. Now if I could just find some footwear my day would be perfect,” he said and flexed his toes.
“Well I guess you won’t need me anymore. The man who destroyed mountains and rebuilt them at whim discarded by a mere toy.”
“Don’t feel bad.” Lars reached back and rubbed the orb at the end of the sword. Greenhately grunted slightly in pleasure. “The biggest help you give me is the added mobility… and removing my fear of dying.”
“There’s always that, I suppose. Now let’s get back. I can’t wait to see the human world again!”
Lars went out into the hall again when the ground beneath him shook worse than ever. Deafening noises of destruction resounded between the walls like the death throes of a wounded animal, followed by an inhuman roar of pain. The great ape was still alive and forced its way through the hall. Its large size meant that it ripped the ceiling with its head and upheaved the floor with its feet. Its arms swung wildly and banged into the walls.
“It’s still alive?” Greenhately asked bemused. “My, my, that thing is almost as resilient as me.”
“This is not the place to fight, though. I doubt this facility can take much more abuse.”
As if to stress his point, the hall collapsed behind the ape and long cracks appeared on all surfaces spewing great clouds of dust. Lars turned on his heel and ran back up through the facility. The ancient facility creaked and groaned, and rubble gushed forth from adjacent hallways and doors. He sprang over any obstacle with such nimbleness that it surprised even him. The ape on the other hand simply bulldozed through it all. It was blind with rage and large streams of its blood flowed from long gashes on its head, matting its coarse black hair.
The narrow halls acted to Lars’ advantage. He would not have been able to stay in front of the ape in any other environment. Especially the constant turns and twists confused the ape, and it had to stop up several times to figure where to go.
Eventually Lars reached the enormous entrance hall. The shaking loosened the pillars and they crumbled around him. The ape was at its full potential and only the falling pillars kept it from reaching Lars. One of them fell across its shin, making it trip. It howled in anguish and anger but Lars used the distraction to climb up on top of his own pillar, towards the hole that would lead him out. The room filled with dust and he sneaked a peek as he stopped to catch his breath.
“If this facility dissolves completely, it could undermine all of Canterlot!” he mumbled and furiously scratched his stubbly chin. The tremors stopped and the dust settled. The ape had gotten to its feet and lumbered towards Lars. It pounded its fists against its chest and screamed hatefully, the added shakings making the room tremble again.
“If you don’t kill it, then it will destroy this whole city. Not that I care about these intelligent equines but it would be such a hassle.”
“I know what you’re saying, and it’s probably in a lot of pain, but it doesn’t make it any easier.” Lars sighed deeply and turned the bulb of his gun almost all the way up and aimed the nozzle at the ape. “Please forgive me,” he said and steadied his arm in the direction of the ape. He squeezed the bulb and a yellow beam sprang from the gun with unparalleled speed. Not even the second after, the creature’s chest ripped open. It howled at first before falling to the ground and whimpering. Blood pooled below it and its fingers stirred, but eventually that ended as well.
“Ugh. Yeesh, what a stench,” Greenhately said. Lars put his arms around his face and made his way back.
“Burnt hair and searing flesh tends to smell that way. At least we know it works now. Princess Celestia better have a good explanation for all this.”
I got a gun, and I even got it charged. It’s time for the Princess to make with the answers and send me on my way. Will I find the source of the fabricants, the machines that attacked Canterlot? Will I find the pony responsible for the Crimson Plague, a debilitating disease that nearly threatened to wipe out everyone? And will I find out who Butterscotch Delight really is, the pony that acted as my guide and on several occasions threatened to kill me? Most importantly… will I find a way to return home to my wife and daughter?
CHAPTER 6 PART 1: PROLOGUE
The answers to all his questions were held by the Princess sitting on her throne. For the first time since his visit, the weather outside had turned first to rain and then to storm. A crack of lightning illuminated the throne room and the guards shivered ever so slightly in the lowered temperature. Lars felt it as well on his bare feet, even on the red carpet that led him down the throne room.
“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Celestia said calmly.
“If you would,” Lars replied a little irritated. “No more games or errands. I dealt with your guard captain, I took care of your personal problem and I got myself a gun. I deserve to know everything you know about me. You can’t expect me to believe that you, after a thousand years, know as little as you let on.”
“Calm down, Lars Leland. We will not talk about this here.” She glided down the stairs and wrapped one large wing around him. “There is only one place for private discussion, and this is not it.”
Celestia was calm for the entire duration of their walk. Lars recognised the route that they were taking but figured that they would go into another room along the way, but they passed door after door. When they finally stopped, it was in front of her private chamber. He swallowed the lump in his throat and remained outside.
“There is no shame for you to enter an old lady’s bedroom. Or what else do you see in my eyes?” She tossed her head and sat down on the floor. Slowly, carefully, Lars stepped inside.
“I see you got the place put back together.” He looked up at the walls and saw the familiar portrait of a dark-blue mare. There was one further addition to the decoration, however: a sea shell amulet on the dresser beneath the painting. Lars could feel his cheeks flush with burning colour at the sight of them. Only hours prior, that necklace had been given to him by a dying guard as a gift for the Princess.
“Mostly. I still need to find a new nightstand. Shame you had to break it, it’s been with me for over fifty years.” There was a certain kind of humour about her, and her light-hearted chuckling made Lars feel more at easy. He sat down across her on her floor where there was a small, round rug. “I can’t guarantee an answer to all your questions, so when you feel the need to leave you have only to use this.”
A drawer flew open in the dresser. A ring hovered out of it and into Lars’ waiting palm. He studied the knob where a gem more often would be placed and noted the numbers that had been scribbled along the edge. “A transportation ring… with this I could teleport to most buried facilities in the vicinity. How did you get this?”
“That ring is almost a thousand years old. I used it to chase down Swirl the Smart and bring an end to him, but now someone else is using his inventions to spread terror and fear.”
“Butterscotch Delight,” Lars asked and clenched his fist tightly around the ring. “So that’s it then, is it?”
Celestia shook her head. “I didn’t know what Swirl the Smart wanted back then and I do not know what his successor wants now. I only know that it will mean destruction to Equestria if he is not stopped.”
“So a thousand years. I’ve been sleeping underneath Canterlot for a thousand years? But I still don’t understand how I got here. I was researching man’s chances of survival in space. Something must have happened to my ship and my emergency pod crashed here… ARGH, if only I could remember what!” He scratched his hair in frustration.
“Your story is a fantastical one, Lars Leland. Butterscotch might have more of the answers you need to make peace with yourself.”
“And a way to blow this joint,” Greenhately added in his mind. “We have the ring, so let’s roll already.”
“Who was Swirl the Smart? And why now?” Lars put the ring on his left hand almost unconsciously.
“These are all things that Swirl prepared before I vanquished him. And now he continues to haunt us.”
“Then I will put an end to this.” Lars got up and held a hand out to the ring when he stopped himself. “Where should I go?”
“The ring is already adjusted to take you to his factory where you will be most likely to find him. And at that factory you will find his machines. One of them is certain to take you home.”
He smiled and looked at the ring, but another thought crossed his mind. “Butterscotch told me he invented the guard’s armours.”
A pained expression crossed the Princess’ face but she replied with her usual calmness. “He is delusional. He thinks himself to be Swirl the Smart from so long ago.”
Lars studied her for a moment. “Was he dangerous? This Swirl the Smart?”
“Oh, he was highly intelligent and manipulative, but he was too good to be true. Had I not just lost my sister…” She paused and looked up at the painting. A single tear fell from her eye. “It almost has been a thousand years, hasn’t it?”
“Princess?” Lars asked and extended a hand towards her, but she turned her serene gaze to him.
“You should go. And be careful. Swirl’s factory lies under the sea. There’ll be traps and more fabricants that you can count. I could have sent you on your way since the first you day you came here. Even now I think it’s too dangerous for you, but Butterscotch is a danger to all of Equestria.”
“I will be careful, Princess. To find a way home to my family I will dare any danger.” Lars pressed the dial down on his ring and he vanished.
CHAPTER 6 PART 2: THE MAD PONY WHO WOULD BE A GOD
Lars stood in water to his ankles and leant up against the many pillars. Nausea had him in its grip as he tried to get his bearings. The hall behind him was blocked with debris like he had been used to in the facility under Canterlot, but the surfaces were green and the pillars were square. It had a futuristic whiff about it even with all the stone it was made from. He forced himself forward and sloshed through the water even with his head swimming from the matter deconstruction/reconstruction.
The way ahead was barred by a locked, round door. “We got this far, now what do we do?” Greenhately asked.
“I don’t recognise this place at all. The other facility could have passed for one from my time and probably was, but this factory is so… alien. Do you see any way to get this door open?” He rested one arm on the door and another on his head.
“Couldn’t just have sent us directly to Butterscotch, of course. We have to go through another convoluted maze.”
“You’re not helping here.”
“Hold on to your pants, mister. There’s a switch on one of those pillars that you could maybe try.”
Lars wrested himself free and splashed some water into his face. “God, that’s cold,” he admitted and rubbed his arms with the opposite hands. “How deep down do you think we are?”
“Too deep for you to feel comfortable. Flick that switch and let us be done with it.”
Feeling more refreshed, Lars finally got the switch pulled and the door opened. There was no further water for him to worry about, but his feet were already freezing. The hall turned to stairs leading him upwards while doing its twists and turns. He encountered several more blocked doorways where to his concern water trickled out.
The chambers that he encountered varied from small to large, and all of them had pillars holding up the ceiling. Fabricants of both kinds roamed around. Lars merely had to draw his gun and squeeze the bulb for them to explode. After a while of walking and taking another turn, Lars was faced with a long hallway. He stepped inside carefully and was nearly sliced apart by a swinging blade. From wall to wall the heads of axes went back and forth between niches.
“You can heal me, right?” Lars asked nervously.
“If your head is still on your shoulders, yes.”
“Just three of them. You’ve dodged worse for me in the past.” The first axe cleared its momentum and rested inside a pocket in the wall for just a fraction of a second. Lars saw it as his chance to jump into the middle of it. The second one missed him by a hair’s breadth and the third only because he tossed himself out on the other side.
“I get the feeling this isn’t the last trap we’ll encounter,” Greenhately said as Lars looked behind him and dusted himself off.
“Well it could have gone worse.” He proceeded through the door on his left and ventured up more stairs and corridors. The algae and slime thinned out, leaving the stone walls to their greyness. Eventually, Lars paused at a large spot of blood on the ground. “I don’t like this,” he muttered and inched closer to it. He prodded at it with his sword and spikes protruded up from the floor.
“Grisly. You’d better find a way around.”
Lars scowled at the only other route available. He had desperately wanted to pass it by as it led to a large room crawling with fabricants. The hulking things scuttled around the pillars, their claws clicking hollowly on the stone floor. Lars gripped the sword hard.
“For old times’ sake?” he asked and instantly power rose up into his arms. The feel of someone else’s hands on his still unnerved him terribly, but by now was just a minor nuisance. He ran down the stairs with a battle cry. The fabricants looked up at him and galloped towards him. He was swarmed in the matter of seconds. The stingers and pinchers barely hurt him. What wounds he endured quickly closed up again. He hacked left and right with little work from his own part. Mechanical limbs flew around his ears as his sword ripped into the metallic bodies. He barely realised what he was doing and at length stood with oil dripping from his body. The white blade was as clean and undamaged as ever.
“We’re done here,” Greenhately said. Lars awoke as if from a dream and took in the carnage he had made. The blood was cold and viscous but something stirred in Lars’ mind, making him shudder all over. He put the claymore back despite Greenhately’s protest. “Why so sombre? You’re the one who wanted to use me again.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled and crossed the room. A set of stairs led him back up to the corridor where one way was splattered with blood again. He stopped up and looked at his shaking hands. “What was that just now? A dream that could be nothing but a nightmare, but is really a memory. No, what the Hell am I even saying…”
He grunted in frustration and staggered down the corridor. The noises he made were like a wounded animal, though he had no wounds on him. Still he clutched the exposed flesh from the hole in his suit and slid down the wall. “When the Neon Spirit takes over the host to perform tasks, the mind of the knight sometimes takes to dreaming… and other times to reminiscing. Do you understand what I’m saying?” a distant voice asked him. Lars crumbled to the floor in a foetal position while clutching his head as images surged through his mind.
“This is a dream… a side effect of using you?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. What you are seeing now is too real to be a dream and yet too intangible to have been a memory. I’d almost say someone implanted this dream in your mind.”
“MAKE IT STOP!” he screamed and scratched long gashes into his cheeks. For a while longer he lay on the floor, sobbing and bleeding.
“You were not meant to remember the dream. Your mind is fighting against the barrier to satisfy its curiosity.”
“I was on the spaceship.” He sat up against the wall and buried his head in his palms. “My best friend was there, Ulrich Pendragon. He liked Charlotte but never dared to tell her, but she had always an eye for me instead. He tried to kill them all. The scientists, the workers… even me. There was an escape pod. And then I woke up.”
“I know. I can see your mind, remember?”
“But none of that was real, was it? Ulrich… Ulrich would never do any of that?”
“Must I repeat myself? There’s a good chance the dream isn’t real. Must likely an implant.”
Lars wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and sniffed deeply. The scratches on his cheek were gone, and only a bit of blood remained crusted into his stubbles. He rested his head on the wall. “Does that mean that there never was a space flight? That it was all a hoax? Goddammit, who would do such a thing?”
“Well, from what I can read of your mind, your world was in a bad way. The fake space flight might have been to give the people hope even as they succumbed to the Crimson Plague.”
“And I alone was to survive?” He got up again and felt his pounding head soothe.
“Who says you’re alone? There could be more sleep pods out there. Quite an underhanded technique. My country would have been able to find a cure easily.”
Lars clenched his fists tightly and gritted his teeth. “Then if the space colony was bogus and everyone has died, do I have the least bit to return to?”
“You won’t find the answers with me. The machine that can take us home lies at the end of this factory.”
“That it does. Along with the answers to my questions.” He took the gun back out from his coat and continued down the corridor. It twisted around the factory again and brought him to more rooms with more fabricants. Lars was filled with a fire that he had not felt before. It was not the happy spark he had felt from having his gun back. The flames were fuelled by betrayal and angered inquisitiveness.
The next room they entered was cylindrical like a large, empty silo. A balcony ran along the side of the room and spiralled up to a landing at the top. Lars stepped up and heard a deep rumbling. He went back again just as a mechanical arm sprang out of the wall. A circular saw protruded from the end and buzzed loudly. The arm ran along the rail in the wall at a brisk pace.
“This just never ends, does it?”
Lars sprinted up the balcony at his own, slow pace. The arm was still somewhere above him. He couldn’t even see it at first. Only hear it. Screech. Screech. Whirr. Then the sounds came closer. The enormous saw hovered just above the metal surface and glided down towards him speedily. He had only moments to think. The saw was just in front of him. Lars jumped up into the air with unfamiliar momentum. He landed with a stagger again and looked behind him. The saw continued on its planned course with no deviation. Before it could come back around, Lars ran the last distance and took a breather on the landing at the top. The saw paused just before him and went back down.
“I hope that was it because… I think I’m going to pass out.” He planted one hand on the corridor wall and the other on his chest. His face had turned bright red and sweat poured from his brow.
“Wouldn’t we be lucky?” Greenhately asked sarcastically. “Get a move on!”
Lars’ fatigue vanished immediately and his face returned to its usual beige shade. His sweat was the only reminder of his hard work previously. “That never ceases to amaze me,” he muttered and looked at his palms. “I feel like a new man already.”
“Yes, yes, we’ve been through this before.”
The corridor was short. It took him only a few moments to clear it and enter a new dome, smaller than the last and with no additional floors. A large machine took up all space from wall to wall and cut the room in two. The middle was equipped with swing doors and the rest of the metallic bulwark was a mess of dials, gauges and switches.
Lars examined the machinery closer, and especially the consoles drew his interest. “This. This is the factory part of this factory. If we can find a way to operate it then we should find a way through.”
“Then what are you waiting for, man? Operate this thing so we can get home.”
“My home isn’t even your home. What are you getting so excited about?” he asked and investigated the console closer. Cabinets near the floor were largely empty, some containing mouldy food provisions or small, green buttons.
“Details! Any place with humans ought to better than here. I would even settle for the Middle Ages, but I’m guessing we’re a little further up in time.”
The green buttons were all broken. He screwed on their ends and extended them into long tubes, but no light flickered on. “1986 years ATG… ah, 4072 AD,” he added on top of his head and threw the useless computers to the ground. “Dammit, I guess even a thousand years was asking too much of them.”
“What exactly are you looking for?” Greenhately’s voice, as always, was filled with only feigned interest but Lars chose to ignore the tone.
“A manual would be nice. Again I find a machine foreign to me. Its design is far removed from Primasian and appears almost… crude. Look at this, only one switch on either side of the doors. I wonder what they control.”
Lars went to the right one and flipped it up. Nothing happened, so he flipped it back again. He tried the same with the left one and at once, the machine sprang to life. The pipes overhead rumbled and steam escaped several cracks in the ancient device.
“Try flipping that first one again. Looks like it did something.” Lars followed up on the spirit’s suggestion. The machine made a few coughs and the front doors slid open with a rusty grind. A fabricant sprinted out with its claws at the ready. Lars’ hand reacted quicker than he could think and took the gun from his pocket. It was his own will that aimed it. The fabricant galloped closer to him. He squeezed the bulb. A mighty beam was ejected and tore through the thing’s chest.
“I think that did it.” He didn’t give the fabricant a second glance as he passed through the opened machine. A tube in the ceiling swayed slightly, probably ready to spit out another fabricant at his command. Lars had gotten what he needed however. The doors on both sides were opened. From there, he had to go through several more corridors and rooms with fabricants. The chambers were devoid of any furniture and the walls were bare. A factory where no one worked and things were still produced.
The next dome he entered had a high temperature. He reflexively put an arm up to his clammy brow and ventured further inside. Most of the floor had been removed. Left were only two small platforms on either side of a deep lava pit. There was no visible way across it but a pony stood on the other platform near a large box with a switch.
“I am so proud that you have come this far, my friend. You are almost there.” Through the heat waves, Lars could just make out his features.
“Butterscotch Delight. Why don’t you come over here and answer some of my questions?” Standing near the edge was unbearable, even though the surface of the lava was well below him.
“Here’s a better idea, why don’t you come over here to me?” Butterscotch struggled to lower the lever. A bridge slowly shot out, but stopped a third of the way towards Butterscotch. “Oops. I am terribly sorry about that, but it would seem that the bridge is a little rusty. Perhaps you could try and jump?” Butterscotch laughed all the way to the door behind him, and his laughter still hung in the room afterwards.
“Wait, you son of a bitch!” Lars shouted and stepped out on the bridge, but had to fall back immediately. The metal surface was quick to blister his bare feet. Though Greenhately healed him, the pain lingered for a moment longer. “Dammit! How are we supposed to get across now?”
“I doubt I could keep you alive if you fell into the lava. Well I mean, there’s little I can’t do. Obviously. But you would have no way to get out and it would just be a painful Hell.”
“Thank you for the encouraging words,” Lars said sarcastically and leant up against the back wall, where the air was cooler and less choking. “You can heal me, but you can’t make me jump?”
“Healing and feats of athletics are two very different things. You’d have to move swiftly, and even I have my restricted field of expertise.”
“Swiftly, eh? Didn’t the Princess tell me something to that effect once?” A revelation dawned upon Lars, and he took from around his neck a pendant he had forgotten all about. It was a golden cross filled with beautiful gems. Holding it in his hands, it felt like it weighed nothing at all. Magic hummed silently in the palm of his hand and travelled down his arm. “Greenhately, I also need your help for this. It’s going to be painful.”
“Ugh, you still have that unseemly thing? Just because that pony princess gave it to you for saving her life doesn’t mean it works.”
“Only one way to find out.”
His whole body was coursing with magic after just a few moments. He backed away as far as he could, and then ran towards the bridge. His feet burned from the scorching metal floor but he gritted the pain back. He reached the end of the plank and jumped. It felt like he could do anything he put his mind to. He flew through the air light as the breeze. The chasm that was so wide before seemed like a puddle to him. Distance had become an illusion. His legs were powerful and every muscle worked past their capacity. He sailed through the air and landed safely on the other side. He rolled along the floor to avoid stepping on the soles of his feet.
He lay on the floor to catch his breath. The pendant was cool against his skin as he put it back under the uniform. He looked back at the lava pit and almost choked at seeing what he had done, but a smile spread across his lips nevertheless.
The corridor behind the door contained more rooms and more hallways. He was steadily moving higher and higher up. The interior never changed and remained a dull, grey stone. The fabricants waited for him wherever he went. Everywhere except for the domes. Its size was breathtaking, like the entrance hall to the other facility. This one was just cylindrical and completely empty. The door behind him clicked to indicate it was locked.
His footsteps echoed hollowly as he crossed the floor. Two statues of humans adorned the end wall, standing on either side of the door. “You crossed the lava pit and now you have come to the penultimate chamber. The machine, and the answers, that you seek are just beyond the door. But it won’t open unless you prove yourself against my Imperfect.”
At Butterscotch’s projected voice, the right statue stirred. Its body, thrice as tall as Lars, was not of stone but of metal and the wiring was revealed in several places. Its soulless eyes gleamed red and its fists were like boulders.
Lars fired the gun at the Imperfect. The yellow beam shot forth and crashed into the chest plate of the robot. It reeled for a moment before lifting a hand. A web of electricity shot from its fingers. Only Greenhately’s interference kept him from getting entangled. The angry sparks hissed on the ground for a moment and left a darkened spot on the metal floor.
“There better be a machine to take me home after this,” Lars said and fired again, this time going for the knee joints. The Imperfect didn’t stop and smashed its fists into the floor. Lars jumped out of the way, but not in time. The force rocketed him through the room. He tumbled along the ground and landed on his back. The robot steadily clunked back towards him.
“That thing must have a weakness,” Greenhately said. Whatever injuries Lars had sustained simply melted away. “And you better find it quick. Phew. I’m getting a little winded, between keeping you going and taking control of your limbs.”
“That construct is not a machine from my time. Robots were simply too impractical to blow up in scale,” Lars reasoned. His hand was still tightly wrapped around the gun. He would not let it go for any price or pain.
“Some blood would go a long way, you know. Even spirits need energy to manipulate the real world.”
“So Butterscotch must have made it a thousand years ago with little time to maintain it.” Lars scratched his chin. The Incomplete charged its fingers, like weaving an intricate carpet of electricity. Lars waited beneath it, observed it, studied it. The eyes flashed from its electrical work and the neck, otherwise cast in shadow, was illuminated for the briefest of moments. Then the web was cast and Lars’ feet threw him into the air.
“You saw it too, didn’t you?” he mumbled. The Imperfect moved again with its stiff gait.
“Even pricking yourself a little with me would… huh? Oh, the exposed wires, you mean?”
Lars nodded, a gesture which the Imperfect might have questioned had it cared. It raised a fist into the air for another attack. “I just need to shoot it there and I might be able to destroy it.” The clenched fist smashed into the ground but Lars was already running around it. It followed him and swiped at him with its long arms, but he stayed out of its distance. The Imperfect’s blank face followed him, craning its neck this way and that and exposing its weak point.
“Guide my hand!” he shouted, his hand shooting up immediately. Lars concentrated on running while the spirit controlled his arm. The gun fired a short burst. The yellow beam struck the Imperfect in its face instead. The large machine barely reacted. It raised its hand again. Bolts of lightning arced down at him.
“Switch,” Lars barked and somersaulted out of the way. “It was as a marksman that I earned my points, not on the track.” There was no response, but the ghostly feeling up his arms melted down to his legs instead. Even out of control of his feet, Lars steadily aimed the gun again. He took a deep breath and fired again.
The beam hit the Imperfect in the small space between breastplate and chin and ripped through it. The Imperfect took a single step forward and halted. Smoke billowed out of the wound, followed by streams of black oil. Electrical sparks flared up the inflammable substance and fire surged down its chest. Its arms exploded and the head flew off, rattling along the floor. Lars was standing right in front of the Imperfect and had to run fast. The burning body swayed back and forth a few times before falling down towards him.
The sound was almost deafening, coupled with the crackle and popping of wires. Then the explosions returned and blasted large holes in it back. Machinery spewed out of it like fountains gushing water. Lars breathed a deep sigh and wiped his brow. At the other end of the room, the door clicked and opened. He steeled his face and held the gun down by his side.
“Time to end this and go home,” he said resolutely and hurried across the floor. He looked up nervously at the metallic statue on the other side of the doorway. It made no attempts to come to life.
“Hear, hear!” Greenhately concurred in his mind.
The last dome was just as big as the others he had seen, but felt much smaller. The walls were thick with strange blocks of computers and machines. A few gauges and dials announced things like temperature and peak performance. In the middle was the control consoles in a half circle on a raised dais. Three panels had been elevated up to operation height of a human and beyond them were enormous screens. The glass was cracked and torn.
“You actually made it. Fabricants, traps, pits of lava, puzzles and giant robots could not deter you. Tell me, for what reason did you come?”
Lars wrested his eyes free of all the technology. It made him apprehensive just to look at it. Back on earth, he had preferred the field of combat. Butterscotch stood at the foot the steps leading up the dais. His coat was purple like wine grapes and his hair was long and silvery.
“I’ve come to stop you,” Lars said. His voice was calm from many years of military service and seeing bits of everything. “To stop you and to find a way home.”
“You think you can do either? In case you haven’t noticed, the machines here are not in the best working order. Despite my best attempts at repairing them. And even then, you would have to go through me first.” Butterscotch smirked and lowered his horn threateningly. Instinctively, Lars pointed his gun at him.
“First you tell me everything I want to know, then I kill you. How did I get here?”
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with. A thousand years ago I stole research papers from the most famous wizard ever to have lived. I acquired power beyond your tiny understanding!”
“Answer the damn question!” Lars shouted and thrust the gun further ahead. “How the Hell did I get here?”
Butterscotch looked up, grinning at Lars’ distress. “I stole the power from dozens of unwilling sacrifices until I became half unicorn, half earth pony. My cutie mark changed as well from an accursed loaf of bread to a dimensional portal fitting a stallion of my intellect better.”
“Did you… did you take me from a spaceship?” he asked nervously, though he was getting more and more aware of the answer. Butterscotch shook his head. “Why should I believe you?”
“Why should I lie to you? Brave soldier who has come so far and endured so much. My magic only allowed me to travel through space and not time. I spent months traversing the broken wasteland you call home. All I ever saw was the bleached bones of your race and the wreckage of your burnt society. I thought I’d never see a real one till I found you in your capsule.”
The news did not hit well with Lars. He could not keep the tears from pressing through and his arm shook. Still his training kept him from showing any openings. The gun did not sway from the manically snickering Butterscotch. “How…” he whispered hoarsely.
“Oh, I dreamt so badly of talking with a human but you just wouldn’t wake up! I took you back with me in hopes that you would wake up soon. But I get bored so easily,” he remarked offhandedly and roared with laughter, throwing his head back and quickly aimed his horn again. “So I took what technology I could find, bringing the facilities back with me part by part. At first I had no idea what it all was.”
“Then the machine that could create and spread the Crimson Plague?” The words had barely left his lips before he regretted asking it. Some questions were better left unvoiced.
“I found it like that, but it was largely broken. Had to fix it up a little. Did you have any more questions? I’m not in any kind of hurry, mind you, but there’s a certain satisfaction about taking someone else’s life. Even after your first dozen it never gets stale.” He licked his lips greedily. Magic fluctuated from his horn and sparkled.
“Why would you want to kill me? Didn’t you want a chance to talk with me?” He tried focusing his mind on something else. The bad information filtered through his mind and all he could feel was rage. Against his own race for their eternal stupidity, at Butterscotch for playing with him and Celestia for always keeping things from him. It manifested into a defiant and cocky smile.
“Oh, I’ve already done all those things, my friend. And let me tell you, I am not impressed with you humans. Your technology I want, but you?” A beam of light erupted from Butterscotch’s horn. Lars’ hand clenched around the bulb and fired its own beam. The two opposing forces stopped each other. The clash reverberated right back at their wielders. Lars was nearly thrown off his feet, and Butterscotch dug his hooves into the floor. One question still pressed on Lars’ mind though.
“Are there… are there others? Did you bring other humans here?” he asked. Butterscotch threw his head back and roared with laughter. His own beam flew up into the air and exploded near the ceiling. Lars fell flat on his face with his beam blasting into the opposite wall.
“You will never find them, my friend. I had bases all over Equestria. They are probably all destroyed by now anyhoo!” As soon as the beams were gone, Butterscotch reinstated them. Lars just managed to roll on his back and fire a beam of his own. Lying on his back meant he had no resistance. The force merely pushed him across the floor and crashed him into a large block of machinery.
“Oof,” he exclaimed. His vision faded for a moment. In the blackness, a quiet voice whispered in his ears.
“I do apologise, but even I have my limits. And that limit has been reached. I can’t help you anymore until I am feed with lifeblood, preferably of humans. Though I guess even these wretched ponies will do.” Greenhately slowly disappeared from his mind. A great burden kept him pinned to the floor. As he opened his eyes, he found it impossible to move. It was the sword on his back. His limbs were all his own again and Butterscotch was grinning maniacally above him, his horn inches from Lars’ jugular.
“I was asleep for so long. After all, what’s the point in running around and avoiding capture when I needed to wait anyway. And my cell was so pitifully easy to break out of once I felt you awaken.”
“Do I dare ask what you are waiting for?” Lars did not take his sight off the maddened eyes peering down at him. The back of his head was sticky with blood, but he felt no wound. Greenhately’s last gesture was the healing with not even a headache to spare. He flexed his fingers but did not feel his gun. Out in the periphery of his vision, he could see it far away from him.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t pertain to you anyway. Really, I am quite done with you and your despicable race.”
“Thank you for your honesty, if nothing else.” Lars drove his leg up into Butterscotch and kicked him off. The pony tumbled across the floor. Lars removed his arms from the straps that tied the claymore to his back. Before Butterscotch could do anything else, Lars smacked him in the jaw. He shook his fist and a light spray of blood stained the metal plating floor. “You ponies are awfully similar to human. Punching a real horse would be a really bad idea but with you, it’s just a bad idea.”
Lars grabbed him around the face and kneed him in the chest. Butterscotch tumbled back, and was promptly decked by a right jab. “I have a lot of frustrations to vent. I thought it was years since I last saw my family. Now I find out they’ve been dead for a millennia. That machine of yours had better work.”
Butterscotch howled with laughter and spat blood everywhere. “Celestia broke that thing a long time ago. I’ve tried, my friend! It just doesn’t work anymore.”
“You shut up!” Lars bellowed and sat down on Butterscotch’s stomach, punching his face over and over again. The more Butterscotch laughed, the more riled up Lars became. His fists pounded down on Butterscotch with the pony not trying to defend himself at all. He was waiting. Waiting and laughing. Once Lars’ motions slowed down and his breath came in ragged heaves, that was when Butterscotch moved. First he created a magical buffer. Lars tumbled off, his own fists torn and bloody. Then Butterscotch got up. Magic flowed from his horn and his cuts and bruises vanished.
“I must thank you, my friend. For making me feel more alive than I have in years. But if you are finished, then I will take my leave of you.” A beam shot from his horn and blasted into the floor. Lars rolled out of the way and landed on his gun. He scrambled to his feet. His gun fired a beam. Butterscotch almost hadn’t time to counter it. Both fighters stood firm. “Give it up. You wasted too much energy on your savage display of power.”
Lars gritted his teeth and desperately called for his spirit. Greenhately did not answer. His sword lay by the wall where had fallen, far away from any of the blood. All he had on him was a gun. He rotated the bulb and the energy output increased. Butterscotch did the same with a smirk that said he could counter any power Lars put into it. Desperately, Lars sought inside his mind for a solution. His naked feet slipped across the cold metal. A million thoughts and recent revelations clouded his thinking. The gun burned in his hand. It was nearing overheating. Weariness was overcoming him and he was all alone.
His baby daughter flashed before his eyes. She has been so young when he left her. Still he could remember her giggle and her curly hair. His wife was there as well, blowing a kiss to him from what seemed like the other side of a chasm. He was truly alone but he always remained in the thoughts of his family. Serenity washed over him. The gun grew colder. Magic poured from his hand and into the gun. The beam intensified without overpowering the batteries. The hands he felt on his own were gentle and the breath in his ear soft. A smaller pair of arms reached around his leg. He felt joy like he hadn’t experienced it millennia.
“If all you care about is power, then you will never understand love.” Lars’ face was stone as he looked at Butterscotch. “And then you will never understand true magic.”
There wasn’t even any hindrance anymore. Lars’ beam simply sliced through the other, slamming into Butterscotch. The force was so great that the room rattled. The pony was cast back and into wall behind him. He didn’t land again. A yellow bubble enveloped him tightly and kept him afloat. Surprised, Lars turned around and saw Celestia in the doorway.
“I had never expected you of anyone to realise the fundamentals of true magic. You are a blessed man, Lars Leland, and the hero of Equestria. Who knows what this madpony would have done if he had been allowed freedom much longer?”
“And you’re late. What are you even doing here?” Lars asked and put his gun away.
“Tying up the loose ends, of course.” Butterscotch bobbed gently up and down as Celestia properly entered the room.
“You knew all along that these machines were broken, didn’t you?”
Celestia looked at him indifferently. “I should. I broke them myself a thousand years ago.”
Angry tears burned hotly down Lars’ cheek. He took a step towards the Princess, but she had made no moves. “You’ve been leading me around by the nose this whole time! Why would you do such a thing?”
“Do you think I like tricking you? I don’t know who you are. You’ve been with us barely a month. What I did was what I felt necessary.”
“Then how do you justify all these errands and excursions?”
“Gather yourself, Lars Leland. Would you have been able to make it this far if you had no hope? If you had not met with a rising chain of obstacles? The fabricants would have torn you apart. Try and think for once.” She raised her voice and Lars, unable to counter her, simply looked away.
“My own people,” he began in a restrained voice. “My own people made me believe I was off colonising space. They made everyone believe that. But they only whispered blissful lies into the ears of the dying with a hand on the plug. Rather than have all of humanity perish, they instead put a select group of military officers asleep. Butterscotch found my capsule and transported me here along with God only knows how many others. He used the materials and facilities to build his own little ant farms.” Lars clenched his fists and jerked them in the direction of the middle dais. Celestia observed him calmly, like she was at the matinee and watching a performance. “Even if this damn machine worked, my race is gone. What time should I go back to? The Romans? The Celts? 21st century Japan? Everyone I knew and cared about is dead.”
“And yet you continued to fight.” Celestia calmly strode towards the raised platform. “I’ve been looking this whole time for the ring I originally used to get here. The one I gave you was the one held by the skeleton. Merely some dust clogging up the machinery. When I finally found my own ring, I thought for sure I would be too late. But trap after trap had been conquered. You even used powerful magic to defeat your foe. You used the love of your family to best him. You are resilient, Lars Leland. You are not the type to give up.”
“I don’t think I could ever trust you. I will never know if you hide something from me, like a condescending mother to her child.”
Celestia ignored the comment and looked at the three control consoles. Her magic illuminated them and a faint light flickered on inside the monitors. The machines hummed lowly, reminiscent of the droning of a sleeping beast. She smiled and looked behind her at him. “He has tried his best to repair it. I think it can handle one more transportation.”
He made his way up the stairs with a small sigh. “What’s the use? My race is gone, probably at its own hands.”
“It was never able to take something from Equestria and bring it to your world. It can only grab someone, or something, from any point of time in your world.”
Lars shrugged. “What a surprise, another thing you neglected to tell me. So I can bring anyone I want from my world, that it? From Socrates to Einstein?” Celestia only nodded, making Lars swallow a big lump forming in his throat. His cocky attitude melted away and a heavy burden made his posture sack. “Against all those people what hopes do my family have? And yet… my daughter is the one who never get a taste of life. She must have been so young. Can you bring her… can you bring Diane here?”
“Of course, but you must brace yourself for the repercussions.”
“I know, I know. She probably got a few years of life before the whole death and destruction thing, so can you take her from her oldest?”
“That is also something you would be wise to consider, but I am talking about a fundamental flaw about this machine.” Celestia’s horn lit up and the machine rumbled and harked to life. The broken screens flickered, but their images were almost unwatchable. Static flickered along the ones to the side and the middle one was almost entirely obscured by cracks and rifts. “Butterscotch never perfected it. Bringing inanimate things to Equestria was fine. Humans, on the other hand.”
“Didn’t you just tell me I could use it to see my daughter again?” A tinge of anger flushed in his cheeks but Celestia nodded her head.
“The artificial means with which this machine crosses dimensions have to adhere to the rules of the individual universes.”
“So…” Lars swallowed the frustration back in the tiniest hope of seeing his daughter. “If there was a mineral in my world that couldn’t be found here, an object made of said mineral would not be able to be transferred?”
“Not exactly. The mineral would be substituted. Humans don’t exist in our world, probably because we ponies took your place somewhere in the evolutionary chain. So whoever you bring here will become a pony. Do you still want to go through with this?”
“You knew this all along, didn’t you?” He half-laughed and pranced around the dais before punching one of the machines. Celestia didn’t answer, but her eyes softened in apology. Lars stood with his fist on the metal plating, chest heaving. “Just go ahead with it. But once this is done, then I will have nothing further to do with you. I am tired of being manipulated and kept in the dark.”
A funnel extracted from the ceiling and dangled by a long tube just above the dais. Celestia lowered it all the way to the ground so that it was just between her and Lars. With horn still glowing, she began to manipulate the control consoles. The monitors scratched and screeched. A large bulge travelled down the tube. The machines around them protested with deep moans. Cabinet doors flung open and cascaded hissing sparks down on the floor. The last working monitor burst. Smoke billowed out everywhere. The bulge slowly made its way to the funnel. The lighting died. Loud explosions tore at the machines. Fire erupted in several places. Lars crouched down with hands over his head, just as the light came back on. Celestia lifted the funnel. A tiny filly lay underneath it.
“Oh god.” Tears brimmed his eyes, and he held a hand over his mouth. “She’s so… so tiny.” He picked her up in his arms. Her mane and tail was pink, slightly lighter than her coat. She yawned and turned over in his arms.
“She is adorable,” Celestia said as she came up next to him. He gasped in joy and held the filly tightly against his chest.
“And so young. Oh god… oh god, my world must have ended shortly after I entered cryostasis. She… she can’t be more than a few years old?”
“Just a little younger than my beloved student I should think. Perhaps one day they will be friends.” Another explosion from somewhere in the facility sent ripples through the surfaces. Celestia looked concerned up at the ceiling. “We should go, Lars Leland. This place does not have long.”
The whole factory rumbled and shook. Cracks infested the dome and water seeped in. Diane started crying, so Lars held a hand over her head. Celestia enveloped them both in her wing. Her horn, adorned he then saw by a ring, glowed and they vanished. Water cascaded into the dome right after them and drowned the fires. The bubble containing Butterscotch bounced around, airtight, down in the water, left and forgotten.
CHAPTER 6 PART 3: EPILOGUE
Granny Pie had her own chamber in the castle. On her request, she had received a small one where she could only fit a bed, a wardrobe and a table with a chair. It was on that bed she rested. Her knot had been loosened and her grey hair flowed down her shawl and light pink coat. A magazine flicked itself from her magic when she heard a knock. Curious, she looked up at the door in front of her.
“Who is it?” she enquired.
“It’s me… Lars.”
“Well, isn’t this a surprise. What are you doing here at this hour?” Her magic overflowed the door and opened it. “And what is that little bundle in your hands?”
“It’s my daughter, Diane. I just got her to sleep again. Who’d know foals would be this hard to please?” He placed Diane gently down on the bed in front of Granny Pie. The little foal babbled in her sleep before smacking her lips.
“This is your daughter?” she asked suspiciously and raised an eyebrow.
“It’s… a long story.” He took an envelope from inside his suit and placed it down next to Diane. “I’ve formulated it the best I could in here. Would you give it to her when she gets old enough to understand?”
Granny Pie tore her eyes away from Diane to look up at Lars. “Going somewhere?”
He scratched his neck uncomfortably. “She’s a pony and I’m a human. I don’t know what she eats, or how to take care of her. And how do I explain everything that has happened? She’d be happier with pony parents.”
“And you don’t think I’m too old to have another foal?” Granny Pie asked coquettishly and smiled like a young filly.
“You once told me you had a son, with a family of his own? I bet Diane would fit right in. She could have all the siblings I would never be able to give her.”
“Diane is not a very ponyish name,” Granny Pie sighed after a moment’s deliberation. “And she looks so astonishingly like me. Would you object if I named her after my mother?” Lars shook his head. “So it’s settled. Your new name is Pinkamena Diane Pie.” Diane smiled in her blankets, as if she knew what was going on around her. Lars kissed her on the forehead and went back for the door.
“Take care of her for me. Maybe someday I will come back to check up on her.” He waited until he was out in the corridor and the door was closed, then held an arm up to his eyes. He sank down the wall and took a few moments to himself.
There was still one thing left for him to do. The burden of it was almost heavier than leaving his only child. He threw it down on the ground in front of Loyal Crescent. The enormous claymore, with its orange handle and purest white blade with yellow bands, made a loud thud on the stone floor. Loyal Crescent stood up from his bench on the raised platform and looked down at Lars.
“I’ve come to return the sword. The presence within it is faint, but I still suggest you keep it locked away from those of weak minds.”
“I am honoured that you would come to say goodbye to me before leaving!” Crescent jumped down from the garden platform, stepping over the sword in total disregard of it. “Mr Leland, perhaps we can part on more amicable terms?”
“I don’t know what to make of you,” Lars said in a tired voice. “You have no qualms about using me to your own ends, yet you have always been more straightforward with me than the Princess.”
“Well, at least let me show you my appreciation.” Crescent whistled, and from behind the platform came two guards pushing a human mannequin on wheels. The replica of Lars was adorned with golden armour shining in the torchlight. “See it as a sign of goodwill.”
“I… I can’t accept that.” Lars was stunned facing his cloth duplicate. It was slightly taller than he as it was raised up on wheel. He bowed down and unfastened the boots. “These, on the other hand, I will graciously take.” He was able to just step into them and they fit him like a charm. A satisfied smile crossed his lips, even making him chuckle for a moment.
“You sure you don’t want the rest? We’ll just melt it down for more pony-fitting uniforms if not.”
“These will suffice.” Lars stepped around and tried out his new boots. “My own uniform will protect me much better than yours could, but I appreciate the gesture.”
Crescent tossed his head and the guards pushed the mannequin out again. “Where will you go now?”
“Out and see if there are other frozen humans somewhere. I don’t want the last image of my best friend to be a frightening dream.”
Lars Leland turned and left the barracks. A few hours later, he was out of Canterlot as well. His adventures had only just begun and more dangers awaited him in Equestria. Those he had touched with his presence would not forget him, for better or for worse.
