Lost in Translation
It all seemed like a normal day for an eldritch cultist in the peaceful land of Equestria. Well, as peaceful as a land that gets attacked by several different evil deities a year can be called…
Anyway, nothing was out of the ordinary for such servant of the Great Old Ones as myself...
What? You thought there weren't any Old Gods in Equestria? Well, I may have agreed with you back in the days, but this time is long since gone…
You know, when my parents saw my Cutie Mark being a tentacle, they didn't really pay it much attention. And neither did I actually. Until I heard its call that is, of course.
I didn't understand it at first. I mean, You can't really blame me, "H̶̷̯͍̔̆ͪ͐e̡̮͓̟͔̻̐̿ͣ̆̏̒ͦỷ̶͈̭̫̯̖͒͑͌̅͟ ̶̹̣̯̙̜̼̖̠͒̈́̈́ͣ̔͟͞ḃ̢̤̘̬̯̭͑̇ŭ̱̻̯̪̟͚̫͑͌͑͒ͫ̔d̢͉̬͙̳͌ͪͩ͐ͥ͝d̴̨͉̝̲̣̝̗͉̹͑͆̄̀ͫ̆͗̌͘y̦͑ͤ̆̔ͮ! ̴͚̘̰͖ͦ́̀͂ͬ͘" isn't the easiest thing to understand for a young foal such as myself at the time.
He didn't stop there though… So here I am, cultist of N̤̱̗̙̓ͤ̾̚ȏ͙͍̳̻͙̮̊̋r̈̈́̄̊r̀͏̮̩a̩͇̰͈̘̞̝͌̀k͎͈͎̱ͣ̌̂̄͐̈ẻͥ̀̐ͫr̜̥̥̟͙̹ͧ̏͗̊̇̚͠, Great Deity of Death and Destruction, or as I simply call him, Nor. It's a nice guy. Love serving him on the daily.
It's not always the easiest task though. You know, there really isn't that many of us, eldritch cultists in Equestria. Well, I've encountered another one in my time, but he didn't really worship the same god, so I had to ignite him in brimstone flames, consume his flesh and sent his tortured soul to Nor for a snack.
It's just the protocol, you know? He didn't really seem to mind it either. Or at least that's what I got when listening to his agonizing cries and muted prays for mercy.
Anyway, I digress. It was quite a nice day that was rising in the quiet land of Equestria. I mean, the sky was quite greyish, but that's nothing unusual. I always wondered what the pegasi do on this kind of days. I've heard it was something for the crops, but I never really got the point of those. Why would you eat grass, when exclusively feeding on freshly harvested pony flesh is so much easier?
Anyway, I digress again. It was well past afternoon as I was preparing for my great evening ritual. Never liked this one. It's the most boring of all. At least the morning one requires a living pony sacrifice and the midnight one usually freaks the neighboring village out, but the evening ritual... Well, don't get me wrong, I really enjoy my job in general, but having a ritual only require virgin blood? I mean, I've got plenty of that on me most of the time, but… It just really isn't that exciting.
So, without much hope and with even less enthusiasm, I pronounced the unspoken incantations that hold the stronghold of our reality shut, invoking the mind of the Great Old One into my own. Usually nothing else really happens after this point. The Old Gods don't really think that much. They've got plenty of other stuff to do.
Actually, I haven't gotten a message from him since at least five thousand years. It was really becoming problematic. I even considered changing professions at some point, thinking that maybe my cutie mark was rather referring to my great talent at creating squid sushi. But my doubts didn't last too long (the sushi weren't that good anyway).
And so, here I was, listening to the empty thoughts of a dreaming titan for the millionth time in my life. Except they weren't so empty that day.
"i͉̻̮͔̯͚͖͗̇ͤͪ͊ͯ̾̃̊̀̕͘ ̧̦̖̰͓̮̦̯̳̻̭̲̱̼́ͮ̃̃̑͌̅̅́̀͢͢͠W̸̷̟̩͓̟͍͇͖͓̠̦̖̖̲̭̫͉̥̮̫̍̒̏̌̎̌̊̈́ͨ͆̿͛͛̉̂̑̌͋ȧ̞͙̼̗̊̋̉̑̇͂ͪͦ̎͘̕Ň̶̵̛̯͎͖̺͙͔̳̳̙̝̳͍̘͖͕̆̍͊̋͋̉̇̅ͪ̒ͬ̏ͨͩ̂̇́͞t̜̞͕͕̲͚̭͋̾̿͊ͤ͂̏͛ͮͬ̿̌̊̀̽ͭ̀͢ ̛͓̗͙̜̘̩̝̤̹ͦ̓̈́̓ͪ͛̃͂̂͜͡͞ͅc̷̳̥̼̟͔̝̯͉̼̔̏ͭ̈ͩ̌̽ͫ͊̂͂̋̍̈̃̑̌ͭ͌͡͠ȟ̶̴̫͓͉̹͔ͨ̂͂ͧͮ̔̓̅͛ͤ͛̌͌̊̽̃̚͟͝͠E̛͍̖͙͔̟̖̪̣̤͔̰͌́̌̑̌ͪ͗ͦ͋ͥ̔ͫͣ͋͊͝͝Ḙ̴̵͈̻͚̰̋̓͐͊̽ͩ̃ͥ̋ͣ̓̑̅ͦš̵̨̨̜͚̞̟͖͕ͫ̇ͭ̏̊̽͐ͮ͛̿̅̒̅͡ͅE̢̛͈̣̦͚̰̼͕͎̠͔̰ͮ̔̀̑ͦ͗͒ͅ" I heard the unfathomable growl coming from the empty Abyss. This was interesting.
After my endless years of trifling with the unearthly, the message seemed quite clear. I still wanted to be sure though. So, grabbing my Eldritch Tongs for Mortals along the way, I bolted into my study, overlooking the ritualistic circles and overall thaumatic mess I left behind, but never forgetting to send a nice message of thanks to my otherworldly patron as it is what any polite cultist should do in such situations.
And it seemed I was correct. The end of the world was approaching. Quite nice news for a change from my usual routine actually.
You know, preparing for the entrance of a great old one really is the most interesting task a cultist could have. Well, that and making pancakes for the great Abyss itself (I used to do that about fifteen thousand years ago and it really was a blast).
Anyway, I had most of the things prepared. Now, only one point truly remained on my to-do list. Terrorize the citizens the document said in blood-red letters (ugh, I cut myself with the scroll when writing this one down, the memories of it still make me wince).
So, preventively putting on one of the best prophet robes I have gotten back in high school (ah, the good old times), I left my cozy lair and descended into the city.
Actually, outside of the nostalgic perspective, I never really got the design of these robes. I mean, not only did the whole thing make me look like a bad Halloween costume, but there was also the eyes thing. I don't know why, someone decided that putting a piece of cloth in front of your sight was a good idea (it's not)…
When I got to the city, the night had already fallen (because walking while blindfolded really isn't the fastest way to move…) It didn't prevent me from seeing the city though (the blindfold did…).
Actually, it really wasn't a city at this point. Few really enjoyed the idea of being kidnapped in the night by a crazed cultist and sacrificed alive. Those who stayed were mostly either too terrified to even leave or just looking for overwhelmingly cheap terrain. So, the small village that remained was actually quite cozy. Especially with the many eldritch tentacles that sprouted from the unholy ground here and there.
"Ah, time to incomprehensibly yell for a bit…" I excitedly told myself. Before climbing on a small stage that the citizens visibly forgot to remove since last time I went down here to demonstrate my talents in diphonic singing. Can't really blame them for that though, I enchanted it to be constantly covered in unholy green flames, so...
And, as I started preaching, yelling and calling the ponies to repent and concede their souls to the incoming Great Old One, they didn't seem to like it that much.
Many started running around, screaming, praying to their false gods. Others gathered around me and listened. They couldn't believe me, but they listened nonetheless with gradually increasing panic in their eyes. One actually dared talk to me though.
"Hey, you!" he cried out, shielding his weak sight from the all-consuming flames of the stage "And how do you know your great god here is coming?"
At first, I didn't know what to say. Then I remembered the message. And so, preparing my mortally weak vocal cords, (that I intentionally mangled back in the days just to be able to approach the greatness of Old Ones' speech) I responded:
"I heard his unearthly voice more than once! So listen, oh foolish mortal, listen and hear his call: i̫͑̄ͩ̍ ̸̦̗ͧ̐̔͛͋́̈́͑͜Wͪ҉̦͔a̦͍̪̭͖͔͇̬͆̇̾̈́́̉̚N̛̛̛̘̟͎ͬ͛͛̿̓̐͋̚t̶́̅̓̀͒͛ͨͣ̀҉̟͔̮̩̰̹̦̞̤ ̵̦̬̜̖͕̖̇͛͊̌ͅc̨͇̹̹̗̝̔ͤ̉ͨ̅ͯͥ͐͝h̲̮͎͎̹͍̯̽̕͜E̴̢̬̫ͨ̓ͨ̆̀Ę̨̲͓̳ͯͮ̃̈͜s̨̲̟̅ͪͬͯ̅̿̂E̦͈ͣͥ͘ "
The sentence came out quite well. I well realize that I'm nothing near the original complexity of the eldritch tongs and that my outrageous accent can be quite difficult to hear and understand for native speakers, but this guy should have gotten the point.
He didn't though. "I'd say this much rather sounds like a dead fish trying to strangle an octopus during a wrestling match, than any warning about the end of the world." he responded after a second in his thoughts.
I considered the point. It made sense and I could totally get behind the reasoning but, I knew it was wrong. So, I decided the most logical thing to do was probably impale his skull on a giant tentacle sprouting from the very ground underneath his hooves. And I did just that.
You may say it was a slight overreaction and that perhaps I'm not very good at taking constructive criticism, but, you know, your skull might also look quite nice impaled on a tentacle…
Anyway, it had the effect I was looking for. The crowd dispersed, joining their comrades in their mindless running as small fires started appearing all over the chaotic streets. All was going according to plan.
But then, they arrived. Yeah, the Princesses as they call them. I never really liked their position as rulers of this land when, in reality, they really weren't more than slightly bigger pawns on the great celestial chessboard.
So, I tolerated them. They tolerated me too most of the time, not really now though.
Ah, it was such a pleasure to see the distress on their falsely regal faces as their eyes fell on the havoc that reigned in town… It was slightly less of a pleasure to see their stern frowns and demanding looks as they pinned me to the ground, demanding an explanation of what was happening.
Well, I could explain it anyway.
I didn't really need to, though. As, only a second later, traversing an unearthly portal that surpassed in its size and beauty all things that this land could offer, but also sprouting from the very ground near my lair, immense tentacles came to be, unnervingly shifting and whipping the air with their murky surface.
Finally, it seemed I was right, the great Nor himself was coming.
And as the Princesses had eased their grasps of my feeble mortal body, setting me free from their deadly embrace, I could contemplate, not only the arrival of my master, but also the inconceivable fear in their eyes.
They never though this day would come…
And finally, descending from the ethereal portal in the skies with grace that was only given to a hundred feet tall squid-like creatures with thousands of bulging eyes and all-consuming mouths, he entered.
N̤̱̗̙̓ͤ̾̚ȏ͙͍̳̻͙̮̊̋r̈̈́̄̊r̀͏̮̩a̩͇̰͈̘̞̝͌̀k͎͈͎̱ͣ̌̂̄͐̈ẻͥ̀̐ͫr̜̥̥̟͙̹ͧ̏͗̊̇̚͠, Great Deity of Death and Destruction, consumer of worlds and devourer of planets, he was finally here for my mortal eyes to see.
"i͉̻̮͔̯͚͖͗̇ͤͪ͊ͯ̾̃̊̀̕͘ ̧̦̖̰͓̮̦̯̳̻̭̲̱̼́ͮ̃̃̑͌̅̅́̀͢͢͠W̸̷̟̩͓̟͍͇͖͓̠̦̖̖̲̭̫͉̥̮̫̍̒̏̌̎̌̊̈́ͨ͆̿͛͛̉̂̑̌͋ȧ̞͙̼̗̊̋̉̑̇͂ͪͦ̎͘̕Ň̶̵̛̯͎͖̺͙͔̳̳̙̝̳͍̘͖͕̆̍͊̋͋̉̇̅ͪ̒ͬ̏ͨͩ̂̇́͞t̜̞͕͕̲͚̭͋̾̿͊ͤ͂̏͛ͮͬ̿̌̊̀̽ͭ̀͢ ̛͓̗͙̜̘̩̝̤̹ͦ̓̈́̓ͪ͛̃͂̂͜͡͞ͅc̷̳̥̼̟͔̝̯͉̼̔̏ͭ̈ͩ̌̽ͫ͊̂͂̋̍̈̃̑̌ͭ͌͡͠ȟ̶̴̫͓͉̹͔ͨ̂͂ͧͮ̔̓̅͛ͤ͛̌͌̊̽̃̚͟͝͠E̛͍̖͙͔̟̖̪̣̤͔̰͌́̌̑̌ͪ͗ͦ͋ͥ̔ͫͣ͋͊͝͝Ḙ̴̵͈̻͚̰̋̓͐͊̽ͩ̃ͥ̋ͣ̓̑̅ͦš̵̨̨̜͚̞̟͖͕ͫ̇ͭ̏̊̽͐ͮ͛̿̅̒̅͡ͅE̢̛͈̣̦͚̰̼͕͎̠͔̰ͮ̔̀̑ͦ͗͒ͅ" he roared once more, only I recognizing the prophetic words.
What followed wasn't really what I expected thought. As, inhaling the air with his thousand maws and grasping the void with his thousand arms, Nor didn't really consume Equestria. He did eat all the cheese though.
In fact, only seconds after he landed, never-before-seen earthquakes shaking the earth and provoking great tsunamis on the environing continents, uncountable wheels and slices and loafs of all imaginable and unimaginable sorts of cheese converged to him with great speed and intensity.
I never would have thought Equestria was home to so much cheese... But apparently it was, since, as the last crumbs and pieces entered his all-devouring mouths, the God was sated.
Another eldritch roar shaking the earth, N̤̱̗̙̓ͤ̾̚ȏ͙͍̳̻͙̮̊̋r̈̈́̄̊r̀͏̮̩a̩͇̰͈̘̞̝͌̀k͎͈͎̱ͣ̌̂̄͐̈ẻͥ̀̐ͫr̜̥̥̟͙̹ͧ̏͗̊̇̚͠ returned to his realm. Leaving most of Equestria shocked for life but most importantly extremely relived, and me very disappointed to say the least.
Because, you know, it's not my fault the word "cheese" is so much alike to "end of the world" in the language of the ancient ones. And now, I had to either explain that this was all just a huge misunderstanding to everypony or just spend some centuries secluded in my lair, which honestly is quite boring. So, after a short reflection, I logically chose the first option.
As I tried to explain the situation though, another thing became apparent: The Princesses weren't too happy either. Because now, they actually knew I wasn't just some lunatic freak, but much more than even them actually. Well, it did force them to take me slightly more seriously from this point on. So, I guess that's a good point.
I mean, they did try executing me about fifty times afterwards, but rapidly gave up as their palace ran out of space to store my lifeless corpses. So, they settled on the next best option: making me their Official Minister of Eldritch Affairs. Quite a renowned title to say the least.
So, I guess it wasn't the end of the world after all… It's obviously disappointing, but I at least still got something from it… I'll need to up my level in eldritch tongues a bit though. You know, to avoid this kind of situations in the future…