Tales Of Planes and Ponies

by Southern Ice

First published

From the sprawling streets of Sigil, to the Pearly Gate of Memoria, from the planes of element to the Equus Ring, follow the rag tag group of friends who travel between planes and worlds beyond

There are tales that were written, but weren't told. There are tales that were known, but not written. There are tales that happened, but not known. So on and so forth. One must wonder: how much mysteries that were seen, but never uncovered? How many adventures left unknown to the vast majority? And were any of the told true? Or were they just lies weaved thick enough to seem like a truth?

To the ponies of Ponyville, those questions may never come up, if they have ever thought of them. But some did ask themselves, after what they had seen, and what they were going to see. Pack your saddlebags, get new pairs of horse shoes, and take a deep breathe. We are going to tell a tale. A big tale about the war waged between planes of existence. A small tale about a little girl and her extraplanar friend's birthday party. A tale of companionship, of worlds beyond the known, of the wonderous and the mystical!

All of which began with a little dance, a oddly shaped arch and two clueless mares.


A story inspired by the Planescape setting of Dungeons and Dragons. Follow our team of ponies, fey, undead and the like, in an adventure between the planes. It doesn't follow any D&D edition, instead the story is based on D&D lore and homebrew lore from the author

Cagestruck I: Stranded

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Cagestruck I: Stranded


It was a rather nice day, theoretically speaking. The weather was just right, not too hot, not cloudy, just a little warm on the coat with occasional refreshing breeze running on your fur. The ground could sing, with each hoof-step from the prancing ponies. Joy was in the air, so was the smell of freshly baked pie and sweet cotton candy. A pony could just lie down on a bench, lazily gazed upon the sky and the town, forgetting all of their problems and just feeling the tingling sensation of a good day.

Not all shared the sentiments, sadly. Even on the brightest day, some would find it rather intimidating, or irritating even, to see the happy ponies around them while they themselves had to deal with something rather less favorable. Two, or rather one of them, such ponies walked together in the town’s many alleys, an earth pony and a unicorn. The beige earth pony was the one doing the talk.

“I can’t believe they kicked you out of the band!” She said with a furious tone, as if the action didn’t offend her friend, but herself directly.

“Come on, Bon Bon! They didn’t kick me out! It's just that the next show doesn’t need much of a classical touch.” The unicorn tried to calm her friend down, her voice was soothing and cheerful. “And since I don’t have to practice for the next show, I can spend time with my best friend.” She hugged the other mare with one hoof.

“But Lyra, what’s about that time when they tried to sabotage you?” Bon Bon didn’t seem to be ready to back down just yet.

“You mean the time when I accidentally fell on my lyre and broke it? I told you before, it wasn’t Octavia’s fault that I slipped on the orange juice she spilled on the ground.”

While she knew that her friend was a little paranoid, Lyra couldn’t keep her smile away when she saw Bon Bon’s pouty face. After all, she only wanted the best for her friend. “So how’s your job at the store? I heard that a new flavor of fruity drop is the next big hit in the town. Kinda wondering why you haven’t told me anything about it yet?”

“Oh, that…” She seemed less than enthusiastic. “I just… can’t find a reason to. It is just candy, at the end of the day, it’s still just sugar and flavoring.”

That was concerning, to Lyra at least. She pointed at her friend’s cutie mark. “Why the sour face, Bon? Isn’t it supposed to be your talent?” She asked, worryingly. “Did something happen at the store?”

“The store’s fine…” Bon Bon replied. “It’s about me, I think? I can’t really find the mood anymore. The new manager, the working tone, everything felt… dull!”

“Which is exactly why we should stop worrying, and enjoy the day!” Lyra said, and did a little dance. “How’s about a trip to the spa, then to the Sugarcube Corner for Pinkie’s big party?”

“Wait, which party?” Bon Bon saw a little flicker in the corner of her eyes. Movements, not from her friend’s dance, but somewhere else. From where, she wondered? No one else was in the alley at the time.

“The Sugarcube Corner’s signature pie 10th year celebration! You haven’t heard-”

Before Lyra could finish, a glimmering light appeared from behind her. A shimmering circle of light tore the wall apart, making what they could compare with a portal of some kind, from some foal’s book. Behind the portal was an arch, with the carving of a delicate horseshoe on top.

“WHAT IS THAT?” Bon Bon shouted and pulled Lyra’s away. The unicorn mare yelled by the sudden action. They both turned to the portal, its mesmerizing light called for them.

“It’s… a portal? Should we tell the mayor about this?” Lyra said after Bon Bon released her.

“Properly? Or maybe Twilight, she ought to know something about this stuff.”

Lyra took a step toward the portal. All things considered, it was beautiful, a painting of light, chaotic yet harmonized. She reached out for it. Bon Bon jumped, trying to get her friend away from the portal. “Lyra, don’t-!”

She slipped. A little pebble was in her way, and she slipped. Instead of pulling her friend back, she pushed her forward, into the mysterious portal.

“AHHHHH!” Lyra cried before disappearing into the unknown. Bon Bon panicked. She walked back and forth around the portal, considering her options. She could tell Twilight and her friend, they should have dealt with something like that before. Or the mayor, or the pony who lived in this building! Yeah, if they lived here, they should know what happened-

“No… nonononono!”

The light from the portal flicked. The circle began to fade away. Suddenly, a surge of unknown courage reached the earth pony’s legs, as they pushed her forward, into the portal.

“Lyra, I am coming for you!”


Lyra felt like she had the roughest train ride ever. Her body was sore all over, and everything felt wrong. The hard yet damp ground underneath didn’t help much, if they didn’t make things worse. She tried to open her eyes, good, she could do that. She tried to figure out where she was. A shed perhaps? Or an old warehouse with gardening tools, she wasn’t sure if there were any clear differences between the two.

She tried to stand up. Something was definitely wrong. She could feel something soft underneath her front hooves. Hooves aren’t supposed to be soft, neither should they feel wiggly and spread out into five. She looked down, and screamed. Where her front hooves were, were two strange appendages similar to that of a diamond dog’s front paws. They were thin, frail. She knew that she wasn’t the most athletic kind, but she wasn’t thin either. Those limbs were way too thin, like a pair of sticks with little hooks on their ends. She stood up, but it felt wrong, very wrong. Something about her posture changed, standing on four didn’t feel right.

So she raised her body up, using her new limbs to stable herself by gripping at the wall. Slowly, she stood straight(er) up. She felt her body balanced itself, it felt right this way. The ex-unicorn began to hyperventilate. What had she become? Where was she?

Then, a light flashed next to her, and something fell out of the wall. A creature, with beige skin and mixed color mane, with a body much similar to her new one, stood there. Its front limb held its head, as the creature struggled to regain its bearings.

“Bon Bon?” Lyra whispered, she could make out the similarities, but she couldn’t believe in her eyes. What had they become?

“Lyra, you are-” Bon Bon turned to her, relieved only for a second before she yelled her lungs out. “WHAT ARE YOU?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Lyra replied with an equally loud voice.

They both turned to each other, examining themselves and their friend. “Are we some kind of monkey?” Bon Bon asked. “We look like monkeys, with hair… and dresses and cloak?”

It was then Lyra realized two things. One, she and Bon Bon were wearing simple dresses and cloaks, like those worn by ponies before the foundation of Equestria. Secondly, those strange limbs she had were called arms, and hands, like those of a monkey. She touched her face, it was flat, with a small nose and mouth. Her horn was still there.

Bon Bon was checking the wall where she fell out of. No sight of the portal anywhere. Just a simple wall made of simple bricks, with a horseshoe hang on top of it. “No…” She could hear her friend’s waning voice.

“Where do you think we are?” Lyra looked around the room. It was filled with gardening tools, bags of fertilizers and seeds. A farmer’s warehouse maybe?

“I have no idea. But there’s a door…” Bon Bon pointed at the only door in the room. The two approached the door, but were hesitant. What was behind the door? Were they even in Equestria anymore?

As the two gave each other silent glances, considering whether or not they should open the door, something else decided to intervene. That something opened the door for them. That something was a burly creature, as tall as the door frame, covered in a thick, moss coloured robe. That something had a low, grunting voice, thick arms, big enough to be visible under the robe. On that thing’s neck was a necklace made of fangs and a dog tag. That thing looked at them, and grumbled.

“Damned thieves…”

Then proceeded to pull both of them out of the room. Its grip was strong enough to crush their arms should it want to. The two screamed and yelled as they were being pulled.

“I am going to put you both in the dead-book, berks. Damned thieves… Can’t keep a thing in this burg…”

With all of her strength, Bon Bon kicked the man hard on his side. It felt like hitting a boulder, a boulder in the shape of a rigid monkey. Lyra concentrated, as much as she could, to pull the hood over the creature’s head. Surprised, the man loosened his grip to pull the hood out of his face. Taking their chance, Bon Bon kicked the man once again, knocking his balance off before the two made their way straight to the main road.

“DAMNED SPELLSLINGER!” The creature roared and chased after them.

The two mares ran through the streets of what they could only call a slum. The air stinked, putrid with a rotting, moldy scent. The creature, most lankier and looked malnourished compared to the one chasing them, but equally vile and crooked. The makeshift buildings were covered in rags and junks, while the streets were cracked and covered in a slimy substance. It was then they realized that they were running barefooted. Further away, they could hear loud chatters and the sound of a crowd.

Like prisoners who found a light at the end of the tunnel, or in this case, the light at the end of the alley, they pushed all of their strength into their legs and jumped out of the alley, running over an unfortunate bystander who was carrying way too many pumpkins with him. When out on the main road, they tried to hide into the crowd. They pushed the bystanders away, making way deeper into the city while constantly apologizing to them. Behind them, the sound of the creature rang in the air, cursing those ‘damned spellslingers’.


“Damarite salmon! Smoked Damarite salmon! Only 20 gold pieces per pound. Damarite salmon!”

“This here is high quality gold, cutter. Mined straight from the depth of the plane of earth! See the green marks? You can’t get jewels better than this anywhere else.”

“Move over, you knife-eared berk! Your scent is messing with me lim lim!”

Surrounding the streets were numerous vendors, selling all kinds of things they had and hadn’t seen before. From fruits and vegetables, to weapons, chemicals, clothings and pet bugs. Unfortunately, they didn’t bring any money with them, and even if they did, could it be used at all?

“You look like you can take a rest, cutter. How’s about a night at the Centaur’s Rest?”

The innkeeper’s hand nearly pulled Lyra over, had Bon Bon not stepped in between them. The two felt lost, which they should properly be, and scared. Creatures of all shapes and sizes stood on the streets. Some had wings and horns like a devil from old tales, while others wore clothes so bizarre and strange that they couldn’t figure out if it was clothing or something else. Thugs with armors and weapons bared in public, chatted and argued about a corpse recently found in some tombs. Three different little kids tried to sell them grilled rats and bugs. Some of the creatures looked at them, malicious intents in their eyes.

Celestia's warm sun was nowhere to be seen. The sky was lit, but by what? The city wasn’t exactly a city, but more of a mangle mess stitched together by those floating creatures in long robes. Those on the streets were miserable, moaning and crying, mad and drunk.


They kept going, until their legs gave out. The light slowly died. The night had come, but where was the moon? Not many fillies liked the moon, since it was affiliated with Nightmare Moon. But what they wouldn’t give to just see the moon that night. The streets were still crowded, as if night and day were just time, as relevant to everything else as this hour to the next. Something changed, however. Those walking on the streets were sinister, they could feel that. And wild, that too, was way too easy to observe. The mares hugged each other, trying to find a shelter, or somewhere to rest. There it was, an empty veranda, with no souls around, other than the drunk and the prostitutes.

They sat down. Bon Bon felt Lyra shivered in her embrace. She wanted to comfort her friend, but what could she possibly say to help her? They were lost, in all of its meaning. Stranded in this strange land, where some didn’t even speak their language. Hungry, cold with nowhere to rest and nothing to eat. The streets of this city reminded them of that day, when Discord turned Equestria into the kingdom of chaos. But even Discord was merciful enough to keep them alive and safe, with odd but edible food, and a shelter. This place had none of it, like a dark nightmare lurked in their mind made manifest.

Lyra sobbed quietly. “Bon Bon, I am scared.”

“We… we will make it out…” Bon Bon hugged her friend tighter. Their heads touched each other, sharing their warmth.

Their rest was cut short, however, by a vicious howl. Looking up, the mares saw a group of those monkey creatures, with mohawk hair and warpaint, barking at them. They howled like wild beasts, while also acting much like one themselves. Beast with weapons and armor in this case.

Bon Bon pushed Lyra behind her, desperate to cover her friend from their gaze.

“Preys falls, new night. Plane-touched taste good, a pair of blood, is going to your.”

The presumed leader licked their teeth, two rows of razor sharp teeths, caked in blood. Their daggers and swords glimmered under the light coming from nearby buildings. The beasts approached.

“STAY AWAY!” Bon Bon shouted, hand waved around. “Don’t you dare to touch us, or I will kick your teeth off!”

Her hollow threats mattered little to them. The beasts jumped upon them. Lyra pulled Bon Bon away just in time, dodging the creature’s bite. The rest of the pack followed them down the streets.

The mare ran and ran and ran. They ran with tired legs, sore bodies and near breathless lungs. They ran with empty stomachs, cold feet and fright filled to the brim. Their pursuers however, were filled with vigor of a new hunt, laughed and cried at their prey, enjoying the chase. Time and time again, they almost reached the pair, just one step away. Time and time again, Bon Bon knew that they were just playing around, leaving them with an ounce of fate to keep on going until their body gave out.

And gave out, they did. All they needed was a fall, a missed step, a tangled stride. They didn’t know what happened, only that their bodies hit the ground, hard and cold. The beasts gathered around them, brandishing their blades and bare their teeth. Jackal-like laughter filled the air.

“I… I am sorry…” Bon Bon whispered to Lyra. The unicorn replied with her eyes, clear, amber eyes had already accepted her fate, and ready to forgive everything.

They could feel the ragged breath of the beasts, the cold blade on their skin. They waited for the pain to come. They prayed for a quick release.

But those things didn’t come. What came to them was the painful cries and panicked shouting of the beast, and the strange, whistling-like sound accompanied by ice cold droplets of water. The mares cuddled each other, holding their friend tight until the chaos stopped, and the quietness of the night returned.

Lyra was the first to open her eyes. The beasts were gone, running away and leaving their fallen allies on the ground. Consistent steps echoed on the half-paved street. A looming figure towered over the mares, cowering on the ground. It spoke in a raspy, echoing voice.

“Addle-coved chaosmen! Why haven’t the Red Deaths feed them to the Wyrm yet? Are you alright, cutter?”

They looked up, greeting them was another lanky, monkey-like creature, dressed in a blue robe and a slightly lighter blue cloak. A large, wizard-like hat with a wide brim covered its face. It wasn’t the night, but its bark like skin itself was dark, as dark as the night. Thin, long arms with equally thin and pointy fingers.

“You both are lucky. Had they got their chiv in you, you would be the chant for the next three peaks or so. Two plane-touched eaten alive by chaosmen. Mostly flam nowaday, but surely something to chant about when those berks have a few rounds of bub in them.”

Its two blue eyes shone in the dark, observing them.

“Aren’t you two the ones who knocked me and my pumpkins over? What are you doing here? It’s near antipeak…” Looking into their bewildered eyes, it came to a conclusion. “Wait, you two are clueless, aren’t you?”

The creature gently approached them, and offered a hand.

“Welcome to Sigil, cutter. I can see the welcoming wasn’t exactly… rum.”

Cagestruck II: The First Night

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Cagestruck II: The First Night


“Allesha? Allesha, are you there?” The wizard called, while occasionally turning his gaze to the mares. Still shivering, they didn’t even dare to look him in the eyes. After saving them from the ‘chaosman’, the mysterious stranger asked them some questions, most of them went unanswered. A combination of shock, starvation, stress and tiredness made them less than capable of holding a proper conversation.

The next thing they knew was him leading them to somewhere in the city. Or more precisely, he walked somewhere, and they followed him, like little geese following their mother. They stopped before a large building, standing before it was a small monkey boy, with a glowing staff in his hand. But the wizard didn’t talk to him. The boy turned to them, silently. His eyes focused on the mare, while the grip on the staff tightened. Lyra looked at the building, it was old, the brick wall was scarred with burn marks and some holes. Parts of it were covered in patches of moss. Some looked like it was fixed recently, if not a little jury-rigged. Hung on chains was its sign, ‘Allesha’s Pantry’. The building by itself didn’t have much to note down, beside its rather blocky and had more hard edges compared to most buildings in Ponyville. To the mares, it looked less like the soup kitchen it claimed to be, but if it was a prison, it would fit right in. Oddly enough, the imposing structure of it made them feel more welcomed, compared to the rest of the city.

The stranger turned the door open then shifted his gaze to them, his head bowed slightly. Hesitantly, they entered the building, Bon Bon held her friend’s hand tight and as close as possible.

Stepping into the building, the fresh scent of baked bread and herbs washed over them. It was refreshing, compared to the foul air outside. The interior, however, fitted right in with the rest of the city. The entire first floor was a vast communal room, with a bar at the end of it and several pillars to hold the structure. Tables and benches are set to the left side of the room, making space for its guests to rest. A set of curtains hid the bar behind it, but not enough to keep the sound of clattering metal pots and ladles away. Many others… ‘folks’ were there, some sleeping, turning and twisting, some stared at them, others minding their own business: combing their tangled, dirty hair, whispering, tapping the wall, but it seemed that they agreed to keep their problem to themselve. Most of them had mattresses, some just slept on the floor. On the walls are old, faded posters, but the words written in bright red color stayed: ‘Tomorrow is a new day’, ‘A smile a day keeps the fiends away’, or ‘A full stomach lifts the spirit’.

“I am coming, you berk!” From behind the bar, a voice came out, hurriedly. It was senile, like an old grandmother, kind with a hint of laughter. “This old sod isn’t going to walk the plane anytime soon.” The curtain opened, and from it, a woman stepped out.

She was a hawk, Bon Bon almost spoke her mind out. And it wasn’t far from the truth. The lady was old, she properly had many grandchildren who called her granny, or any other names a child would use to call their grandmother. But she was far from senile. The wrinkles on her face were akin to scars of a war veteran, and her eyes, it was the eyes of a hunter, a hawk in its prime. Her head shaved clean, as clean as it could be, shone nearly as bright as the golden ring on her nose. Under all of those spikes and thorns, was a tender, gentle smile.


“Oh, it’s our local barmy blood.” Her gaze fell upon the two mares. “And who are those with you this time?” Her eyes squinted, piercing through them. “And by the look of it, some clueless, perhaps?”

“First time too, as it seemed. With no jinks to their name.” The wizard said. “Is the kitchen still open?”

“It’s nigh anti-peak, berk.” Allesha spat, her lips parted and curved, revealing pearly white teeths underneath. A mischievous but genuine smile. “Of course it is, come in, come in! You two looks like an Athar on the Sixes.”


Sitting comfortably in the bar, feeling the heat coming from the stove and inhaling the scent of boiling pumpkin soup, Lyra and Bon Bon felt relaxed for the first time of the day. The lady gave them a warm cup of tea each, with a sliced loaf of bread and butter. The bread wasn’t fresh, neither was it stale, not the fancy kind of white bread either, just a simple loaf bread made of wheat.

It was when she drank the tea that Bon Bon realized how parched she was, downing half of the cup with a single gulp. On the other side, Lyra took little sips, with some bite out of the bread slices. The stranger sat opposite of them, sipping his own tea while observing the mares. The lady brought out two metal bowls of soup.

“You are lucky, cutters. Normally, we don’t often have leftover soup.” She chuckled. “But this berk right here messed up the delivery and we have to cook half of the pumpkins he brought to us! The sods surely loved it though.”

“Half of what I brought in hand.” He coughed. “Most of them are in my bag of holding.”

“Oh you old Cipher, take a joke, will you?” She put the bowls on a metal tray on the bar. “Care to give these two cutters some hot soup, or are you going to force them to chow down your old, worm-ridden pumpkin cold?”

The stranger pulled a wand out of the holster on his chest and pointed them at the tray.

“Värme.” The tip of the wand lit up as if it was heated metal, so was the tray. From where she sat, Lyra could feel the heat radiated from the tray and the tip of the wand. Soon, the soup in the bowl began to boil. The wizard flicked his wand, blew the heat away before holstering it back. The lady brought the tray to the mares. “Here you are.”

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Lyra and Bon Bon ate the food in silence, while the two strangers observed them. The food wasn’t exceptional, neither was it something professionally cooked. There were chunks of pumpkin in the soup, while the salt was sparsely used. They could make out the taste of some herbs, but it didn’t elevate the taste of the soup, just enough to get rid of the slight bitterness of the vegetable. Yet, it was one of the most memorable meals they had.

Bon Bon was the first to finish her meal. She was sated, sure, but not full. The portion wasn’t comparable to her daily meal, but she had to make do. She set the cleaned bowl of soup to the side and drank the last of her tea. Lyra looked at her friend, then to her meal. Knowing Bon Bon’s appetite, she took a slice of bread and offered it to her.

“Here, you can have mine.”

“What?!” Bon Bon stared at her friend, then at the slice of bread. “I am full, Lyra. You can keep it.”

“You can take it, you know? It’s not like I need it as much as you are…” Her eyes focused on Bon Bon. “Besides, you walked around much more than me today.” Protected her too, she thought to herself. “You should take it.”

Bon Bon knew that Lyra was right, but she pushed that part that thought so deep down. The mare crossed her arms and turned to the strangers. “And you should finish your meal.”

Reluctantly, Lyra ate the last slice of bread, using the tea to wash it down. Bon Bon gulped, but she kept it to herself.

“Thank you, sir, for helping us.” Lyra said and hitched on Bon Bon’s side. Still holding some suspicion in her, Bon Bon tried her best to thank the stranger.

“What she said. And thank you for the food.” She said to the lady.

“Oh, it’s nothing, cutter.” The lady smiled. “But pray tell, what brought you to Sigil? You two don’t seem to be the adventuring kind.”

“We… we don’t know, ma’am. We were on the street, there was this portal and we-”

“Stepped in and found yourself here.” The wizard said. “Clueless, didn’t know where you were, wandering around the Hive in blind. Did I get that right?”

“How did you know?” Bon Bon stared at him. The strange creature scratched his black, no, charred skin with his long fingernails.

“Chants from before there were tiefling, cutters. We had like what? Three, four Prime wandered into the city this week? Make it six, with you two here.” He took a moment, then tapped the side of his head. “Ah, I almost forgot my manner. We haven’t greeted each other properly yet, have we? I am Diz, planewalker, merchant and part-time gate-seeker.” Lyra raised her eyebrow at the strange names, both of the guild and of the titles. “And this is-”

“Oh shush, I can do it myself.” She offered her hand to them. The mares shook her hand, feeling the unexpectedly strong grip of the elderly lady. “Allesha Sheevis, the owner of this armpit of a pantry. I hope that the food won’t give you a stomach ache later.” The mischievous grin rarely left her face.

“I am Lyra Heartstring,... a musician. And this is…” She turned to her friend and waited. Bon Bon exhaled, continued from where Lyra left. “Bon Bon, I am a candy maker.”

“Ah, I can see that.” Allesha nodded. “You two surely don’t look like the adventuring kind. It had been a long time since we had candy here, when was it, the Day The Torment Ends?”

“When the Dustman celebrated the death of an immortal, was it?” Said Diz. “I remember that they went to every soup kitchen around the ward, brought gifts from a nameless benefactor to every sod in the Hive. A once in a lifetime celebration for sure.”

“Maybe you can make us some then? If we had enough spare sugar for a candy that is.” Allesha chuckled. Bon Bon followed with an awkward chuckle of her own. Lyra was somewhat amused by the sight of it.

“And where did you come from, cutter?” The wizard turned the conversation back to them. “Somewhere in the Prime, perhaps?”

“We came from Ponyville…” Lyra replied.

“Is it your kingdom’s name or your continent’s name?” Asked the planewalker.

Lyra realized what he meant to ask her. ‘Which part of this wide world did you come from’, not ‘which town did you come from.’ She quickly corrected herself.

“In Equestria! It’s a town in Equestria. And Equestria the largest kingdom on our continent. The kingdom of ponies… Have you heard of it?”

“Kingdom of ponies? Can’t say that I have heard of that, cutter.” Allesha looked at them from top to bottom. “From the look of it, did you two come from south Faerûn? Your clothes surely looked the part, without the horse imagery at least.”

“We haven’t heard of Faerûn, nor do we know where or what it is.” Bon Bon shook her head. “We don’t even know where we are.”

“You are in Sigil, cutter. The heart of the Outland, center of the Multiverse and the true neutrality between the Outer Planes.” He took notice of their confused faces. “In other words, far from your home. Planar far.” His arm opened, giving them the sense of distance.

“Is there a way to take us back home? Maybe we can use that portal to return?” Bon Bon asked him, desperation found its way into her cracked tone.

“Yes, you can do that. If you have the key that is.” Diz explained. “Every portal needs a key to open, hence why we call them gates. But you don’t have it, do you?”

To which, the mares looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Well, sir ‘gate master’ over here might just know how. But he didn’t feel like telling you that yet.” The old lady remarked.

“You can?” Lyra’s ears raised, waiting for a response. Diz waved his hand.

“Bar that. I am no lily, but I am no conny-catcher either. I don’t know anything about a gate to Equus, much less Equestria. If the Halls did, it would be under heaps of forgotten paperwork and outdated maps.”

“Wait…” Bon Bon caught something from his words. “You said Equus, we didn’t tell you the name of the continent.”

Diz tapped his chin, eyes fell onto the mare. She could feel him cutting her open in his mind. It took Lyra and Allesha a moment to catch up with them.

“This cutter is sharp, blood sharp even.” Allesha said with a smug.

Diz sighed and took a pinch of herbs out of his pouch, chewing them while he said. “I have been to your kingdom once, yes. But it was a long time ago.”

“So you do know how to bring us home?” Bon Bon rushed over to him. Diz held a hand out to keep her away.

“I only knew a gate to it. And even if you were here a century ago, I couldn’t help you out. That gate is locked, locked tight, as tight as the Lady is to the powers. Besides, after the Tempest, the gate was moved by the dabus. Only the Lady knows where it is now.”

“Maybe it is the one that brought us here?” Lyra asked, a spark of hope held tight in her hands.

“Cutter, I hate to tell you this, but it can’t be. And even if it was, like I said, the gate was locked, and I don’t have the key.” He sighed. “However, I do have a way to help you. Do you remember where the gate is? I can try to find a key for it, but I need to examine the gate first.”

That should be simple, right? After all, it happened just that morning. Yet, the city was a maze. And they were lost. Bon Bon and Lyra tried their best to remember. They dug into their memories, tried their best to find a landmark, or something noteworthy. But they couldn’t, everything was too blurry. Lyra tried to dig deeper. She could see the city’s crowd, moving on the streets as they tried to escape the brute. There were towers, a lot of towering buildings, and spikes too. The world turned dark, there was no sun, no moon, no star, everything was dark, then… came the chaosmen.

Lyra felt a hand on her shoulder, and a silk handkerchief on her face. Looking up, she realized that her eyes were shut closed, tears ran on her cheek. Allesha gently wiped them out, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Cutter, you don’t have to force yourself. It will come to you, naturally. You are exhausted, that’s all. It must have been a long day for you.”

Behind her, Lyra saw Bon Bon, worriedness painted all over her face. Yet, she remained calm, forcefully, but calm nonetheless.

“Cagestruck, wandering aimlessly around the Hive tends to do that to the clueless like you.” Diz then added. “But you will get used to it soon, give it a day or two. Not to mention the chaosmen horde, that is mentally exhausting, even for me.”

“Chaosmen?! Why haven’t you told me about that?” Allesha nearly shouted at them, but managed to keep her voice down to not disturb the guests outside. “Oh, cutter, that explains everything. Come, you two need some rest, immediately! Then we can talk tomorrow. Brise! Come up here, please.”

Behind the bar was the kitchen and where the staff lived, where most of the food was cooked, and the mattresses washed. From it, a staff member of the pantry walked out. Her face and hand were covered in white flour, yet it wasn’t enough to hide her beauty. Her skin was as white as the cloud, and equally soft. Her hair moved in an unnatural pattern, as if a small breeze passed through her. When she spoke, her words were carried by the wind, gentle, echoing.

“Lady Allesha, we have finished our last patch of bread, do you need me with something else?”

“I need you to rest, cutter.” She scowled. “I will take care of the rest. Can you bring these two to the beds? Remember to wash yourself before laying down. Lady knew how long you had worked down there.” She ushered them out of the bar, while she strode to the kitchen. Brise used a towel to clean her hands, then turned to the mare.

“Please follow me, your bed is this way.”

Lyra and Bon Bon turned to the wizard, who dusted himself and stood up, prepared to leave. They didn’t want him to do so, but they didn’t dare to ask him to stay either.

“Rest well, cutters. I will meet you again tomorrow.” He gave them some words before he left. “Oh, and you should help Allesha tomorrow, just ask her, and she will tell you about it. Believe well, cutters.”

“G-goodbye, Diz… See you tomorrow…” Lyra said, words stuck in her throat. Bon Bon only gave him a nod, which he replied with his own. The wizard waved his hand and left the soup kitchen.

Standing next to them, Brise patiently waited. The gal didn’t seem to be in a hurry, but her presence made the situation a little awkward. Unlike Diz, who saved them, and Allesha, who had the air of comfort with her, Brise was cold, or at least she acted that way. She just stood there, not a single word out of her lips, hair swayed. She felt like something out of this world, or their world, in this case.

Lyra took a step forward and held her hand out. She tried to give Brise a smile. In her hand, she felt Brise’s fingers. Delicate digits, cool like the summer breeze, just as gentle as Allesha.

“I am Brise. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I am Lyra, nice to meet you too.” She then turned to Bon Bon, who only sighed. “And she’s Bon Bon.”

“I have heard of you from the kitchen.” Brise said, her pale skin blushed slightly. “You are clueless, aren’t you?”

“Well, everyone we met called us that. What does it mean?”

They walked to a shelf at the end of the room, where the mattresses and sheets were. Brise took three sets out, gave one of them to Lyra, another to Bon Bon and the last was for her. They set the ‘beds’ down next to each other. Lyra felt the mattress, it was stuffed with feathers, just soft enough to give her small comfort. The sheet however, was made of material she didn’t recognize.

“It’s how we call those who haven’t come to Sigil before, and didn’t know a single thing about it, like you. Most of them are Prime, and human too. Though it isn’t rare to see clueless from different races.”

“Are you a ‘human’?” Lyra asked her. Brise's smile became a little smug as she shook her head.

“I am a wind genasi. A plane-touched, like you.”

“But we aren’t.” Bon Bon inserted. “We don’t even look alike. What is a plane-touched anyway? The lady and that guy kept on calling us that. And now it’s you.”

“Pardon me, but aren’t you two tieflings?” Brise asked, a little confused

“No, we aren’t? What’s a tiefling?” It was the mare’s turn to be confused, again.

“Half fiend, half human? You two look like them, especially you.” She pointed at Lyra. “I haven’t seen any human with skin color like yours, and your legs too, they had a certain equine feel to them. And you even have a horn.”

“It’s because I am a unicorn.” Lyra said a fact.

“No? Unicorn walks on four legs.” Which Brise didn’t accept.

“We are,” Bon Bon looked down at herself. “Or were, ponies. We didn’t have arms like this before this morning.” Tired, she laid down on her mattress. Lyra laid between the two.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” The genasi laid down with them. She brushed her hair aside, which was still swaying, despite her effort to keep them down.

“And this city doesn’t make any sense either. It was just… weird!” Bon Bon exclaimed.

“It is bizarre.” Lyra added.

“So what was your world like then?” Brise asked, excitement barely contained in her voice. “You said you were ponies, right? So what was it like being one?”

As the night went on, the three exchanged stories. Brise wasn’t as hard to talk to as they had thought. She was just another mare. And talking about that, she showed them some of the basics, of the human and some of the Sigil’s cant. In turn, Lyra and Bon Bon told her of the ponies, and of Equestria, little tidbits about their lives, and their world.


Lyra woke up in the middle of the night. She couldn’t sleep, or close her eyes. It was in the silence of the night that we were truly alone with our thoughts. She took a look around the room.

The folks, the people in this room, were they like her too? Stranded to a strange land, couldn’t find a way out? Diz said that he would try to help them, but would him? How could she be sure that he would help her? Why would he help her? What if he couldn’t? Would she be stuck here forever, never having the chance to see Ponyville again?

She remembered her home, her family. How long had it been since she last talked to them, or sent them any letters at all? She always told herself that she would do it when she had the time. She took it for granted that she would have the chance to do it, after all, Ponyville wasn’t isolated. But the chance didn’t come, and she was here, in Celestia knew where. With only Bon Bon by her side.

She missed her bedroom. She missed her lyre. She missed her meal and the sweetness of a cupcake. She missed the theater, her band, and the many parties she had back there. This city, it was cruel, ugly and strange. It lacked the cheerfulness, the excitement of Ponyville. Its buildings were imposing, made of stone and metal, guarded by razor sharp vines and spikes. The people were equally bizarre, they talked in an aggressive language, they rarely sang and if they did, it was songs of blood and fight.

If she couldn’t go home, could this be her new normal?

Quietly, Lyra sobbed. She felt cold.

A hand reached out for her, hugged her close. The other patted on her head. Lyra opened her eyes. It was Bon Bon. She mumbled something in her sleep.

She still had Bon Bon. Together, they might just get through this.

Lyra hugged her friend tight. Little did she know, Bon Bon didn’t fare much better either. But she knew that she couldn’t be broken, not yet. If they wanted to pull it through, they needed strength. Pushing her tears back in, Bon Bon reassured Lyra, as the two drifted back to their restless sleep.

Cagestruck III: The Chant and The Mural Painter

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Cagestruck III: The Chant and The Mural Painter


“Lyra, keep an eye on the pot, will you? And Shira, bring those tea out, people are waiting out there!” Allesha clapped her hand rapidly as she entered the kitchen. As she approached her, Bon Bon quickly put the sliced bread into a basket. The old woman came by and picked them up. “Thank you, cutter.”

It was early in the morning, the mares couldn’t sleep much, but it was enough for them. As Allesha and the volunteers began their work, they asked to join the kitchen. It wasn’t hard, given that Allesha was overjoyed to see their ‘enthusiasm for the cause’. The mares helped around, from preparing the vegetables, slicing the breads, to stirring tea and cleaning the tables. Their work wasn’t exactly complex, but it could be physically taxing doing it at such volume. Bon Bon was used to heavy work, she joined into the flow without much troubles, except for getting used to her new body. Lyra however, was easier to be overwhelmed, so Allesha only asked her for less laborious chores, like watching the pots or cleaning the tables. Still, she was happy that the mares decided to help her.

As the hours went by, the line only seemed to be longer. The people of the Hive Ward, as Brise told them, weren’t the most fortunate kind. Most of them looked less than miserable, with some dressed in ragged clothes barely enough to cover their body. Their body was thin, sickly skin grafted upon bones. Dirt, she hoped so, caked their heels and cloaks. Their eyes looked at her, but their gaze was distant. The air was terrible, not only to smell, but to feel. Lyra could see the word sorrow in the air, and grief echoed in the occasional wind. They didn’t pay much attention to her, despite her rather colorful appearance compared to the grim, dull world around her. Not because they weren’t curious, especially the children, who more often than not looked at her with wonder in their little marble like eyes. They didn’t, because they couldn’t afford to. Not all of the folks who came to the establishment were decent folks, even though Allesha tried her best to maintain the comfort she sought to bring to the unfortunate. The volunteers stopped at least two 'thieves' that morning alone, who tried to take a few more slices of bread or a stick of butter. Lyra wasn’t furious, neither was she disappointed. She only saw the miserables who couldn’t afford a dignity for their own.

Lyra found herself quite fond of the kids. As strange as it was, the young ones seemed to have a certain curiosity about the mare, affection even. When he came out to clean the tables, they looked at her, observed the mare. When she used her magic to catch something her limbs couldn’t, they gave her cheers and applause. It lightened her, and some of the guest’s mood a little. A small light in the fog blanketed this town. Allesha wasn’t against it either, if anything, the old woman encouraged it, entertaining the guests that was.

In the kitchen, Bon Bon quickly made herself acquainted with her new hands and fingers. As bizarre as it might sound, she actually welcomed this change. Having flexible fingers made her work much easier than using hooves. She could cut and slice vegetables at a faster and refined pace, albeit after a few cuts on her fingers. Grabbing and gripping was less taxing than ever. The air in the kitchen was another welcoming change. Compared to her job at the store, the folks working at the pantry were rather cheerful, or at least chatty and less invasive. Though, she thought to herself, would this be her new life? During the night, she wondered if she could trust that ‘man’ - as Brise informed her, Diz, to help them return to their home? And what if he couldn’t? She could continue working here, well, not exactly working since she wouldn’t get any pay, more like volunteer here. While the atmosphere was lovely, she wasn’t sure if this was the life she looked for, even after what she had done…

In the long line of miserable peoples, a man with an old, and nearly broken, lute began to play his damned instrument. Its strings barely sang a beat, much less a song. But still, the man sang. It was a song of the downtrodden, of the sods who had nowhere to go, no life to live, no kip to call home.

From the tables, a half drunken man groaned, joining into the song of the downtrodden bard. The songs barely matched. He sang of the old days, the glorious time of the factions, of the greedy Takers with jinks up his pocket, the merciless Guvner judges, the noble Godsmen and many more. His song stretched from tales to tales, clumsily intertwined.

Soon, the song, if it could be called that way, spread through the pantry, as Allesha herself joined in the choir. She brought the song back to the present, to the pantry and the guests. The words bounced around, catching people’s ear, soon, they turned the song toward the owner, and the establishment.

The entire pantry sang, from the lonely old man who sat by himself at the corner, to the young women with her kids, from those stuck in the line, to the kitchen itself. No one knew the song, or maybe they did. There were those who joined with enthusiasm, trying to follow the beat, and there were those who tried to give their voice in, no matter how offbeat it was. They mocked the tea as clear as the water, and the soup as thick as the tea. The cooks returned with the guest’s filthiness and their lack of manners. They went back and forth, mocking, poking fun at each other.

Bon Bon and Lyra were no stranger to singing, and Lyra was a musician, but they hadn’t seen this form of performance anywhere. If the lyric was recorded, and read, it would seem that the singers were arguing with each other, furiously. Yet, in reality, they were having fun, sharing the stories of their sad life with each other with joy.

The song went on, but the movement in the kitchen didn’t stop. If anything, the tempo moved them faster and faster. Water boiled before they should, and cooks could slice bread with a single swing. Before she realized it, Bon Bon was tapping her feet on the ground while her hip swayed. Lyra frolicked, her hair swayed as with the tempo, while her voice caught up with the beat. The children followed her, creating a small carnival in the pantry. For a moment, she felt as if she was back in Ponyville.

It left as soon as it came, the song finally ended, just as the lunch time came to its end. Lyra sat down on a table, groaned as she realized how tired she was. She heard the sound of a tray hitting the table, and the form of Bon Bon appeared next to her. The earth mare blushed, she coughed and passed the meal to Lyra.

“What was that?” The unicorn asked, still dizzy from all of the dancing.

“A little joy.” Came the short answer from Brise as the girl strode toward them. “Or the belief of a brighter day, as the bloods often call it. It tends to do that, if enough people join in.”

“Not bad, cutter. If you want to be a singer, the Festhall is always looking for new recruits.” Allesha smiled as she and some of the other volunteers sat down with the mares. “Take a breather, cutters.”

Lyra looked at the meal, a simple vegetable stew with slices of bread. The other had some scrambled eggs with them too, but the mare were given mashed potatoes instead.

“Well, your friend and Brise said that you two were horses-” The genasi whispered to her ear before she continued. “Oh, ponies, right. I wasn’t sure if you two can eat meat and the like, so have some potatoes instead. If that’s not what you like? Beggars can’t be chooser, cutters.” And she laughed.

Lyra nervously scratched her neck as the volunteers gave them curious looks. Lucky for her, their attention didn’t last long. The unicorn turned to her meal instead.

“So… has Diz come back yet?” Bon Bon asked them. She tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, but clearly, she wasn’t.

“That blood sure takes his time. Then again, you can’t really predict a Cipher either.” Allesha said as she cut the bread and used it as her spoon. The way she ate reminded Lyra of how old Equestrian nobles used to eat. While the old woman was rough and didn’t hold herself back when it came to words, she also had the air of a well-adjusted high-class woman.

“Maybe we can find him? He must live somewhere near, right?” Bon Bon proposed. Of course, her idea wasn’t the best, but it was an idea nonetheless.

“The streets aren’t safe, you know this well.” Allesha replied. “Besides, finding that blood is going to take more time than waiting for him, that Cipher never stays still for long.”

“Didn’t that barmy greybeard call kip by the Ruined District?” One of the volunteers remarked. “Where the chaosmen roam?”

“And the ex-Ciphers too.” Another added.

“I am sorry, but what’s a Cipher?” Lyra raised her hand up. “And some other words, like chaosman and blood, you seem to call him that a lot.”

The old woman raised her eyebrows, but quickly remembered something. “Right, this is your first time here after all. I am no mimir, but I guess I can answer some of your questions.” She clapped her hands together then steadied herself.


“Even the barmiest berk in Sigil knows who its true ruler is. Who you asked? Of course, clueless like you two might have never heard of her yet, but you will, and you should remember it well. This city, this cage as a lot of bashers call it, belongs to The Lady Of Pain. Her Serenity is the absolute master of Sigil, under her is the dabus, her handmaidens.”

Outside, where the ruin and debris covered the streets, floating lanky figures dressed in long robes flew back and forth, hammering down the nail, dusted up the road, laying brick after brick, slowly, but steadily, fixing the city. Their duty wasn’t praised, for it was part of the norm. None dared to question their works, none dared to talk to them either. Safe for some, mostly graybeards, who often gave them a formal greeting, should their eyes met.

“But the Lady doesn’t rule the city directly. In fact, nobody knows how she rules the city at all. Instead, she gave powers to powerful groups who swore to run the city, on her behalf. That was when the factions came to be.”

Somewhere down the streets of Clerk Ward, a figure stood before the empty Hall of Record. Barricaded for decades, one would wonder what little was still in there. Yet, none dared to ask the hulking mass of the Sons of Mercy, standing guard against the old administration office. Safe for a barmy blood, who did so and earned a shake of the head from the young Red Deaths.

“There were fifteen factions that governed Sigil. For six centuries, they were the one who truly ran Sigil, from its legal system, to its enforcement, trade management and the like. Of course, the factions aren’t all do-gooders. If anything, most of them were either corrupt, crooked, self-centered or anything in between. But at least, under their time, the city was at peace, a fragile peace, but still peace.”

The figure strode toward the Hall of Information, or at least, what was left of it. He was allowed to enter, after paying a hefty music. Not that he minded, the basher deserved more than what the city paid for them. Inside of the hall, he asked for a meeting, between him and a certain individual. The receptionist talked through her sending stone, before directing him to a private chamber.

“But that was more than 30 years ago. The faction’s reign finally came to its end, and the Faction War began. The war was devastating, it managed to make the Hive Ward worse than it was, a feat of its own, cutter. But that wasn’t the worst thing that happened, the war itself was. No one knew exactly how it started, but at the end, the Lady gave the factions her last decree to them:

‘This city tolerate your faction no longer. Abandon it, or die.’

And so, the fifteen factions were no longer.”

Soldiers began to move, swarming the hall. Anybody who failed to notice them was kicked out of the way. Heavy boots hit the ground, plates of armor hitting each other, the sound of clashing metal echoed in the hall.

“Three of them were destroyed by the war, wiped from the surface of the Outlands, crushed and changed.”

The soldiers surrounded the chamber, bellowing his name. He knew why they did so, and he let it happen. It was what should be, and he had no say in the matter. While of course he could get out of the situation cleanly, it was his decision to be here, and the multiverse’s decision for them to come. Another obstacle he needed to get over, but one that would benefit him more than it would harm him. He didn’t think so, it had been a long time since he held thoughts in his mind. He just knew it.

“Six took all they could and left Sigil, finding new holes to hide in, and new prey for their causes.”

“The last sixes, however, stayed. They disbanded their faction, tore their charter apart, and took their symbol down. Those who stayed did so for their own good, or for Sigil’s good.”

There stood the man whom he wanted to see. But judging from the situation, it seemed that the meeting would be postponed for a later date. The soldiers looked at him, some he knew from before they were born, some considered him a family friend. He did what he should, lightened their heavy souls by turning him in. The other man laughed, silently. He had waited for this chance for a long time. And so, the Master of Portals declared…


“The Transcendent Order, or as we called them, the Ciphers, was one such bunch. Barmy as they were, they were the good kind of barmy. When the war tore Sigil into pieces, the Ciphers devoted their entire resources to connect it once more. On the other end though, was then Xaositect, the chaosmen. The Xaositect was the barmiest, most addle-coved berks of Sigil. Some didn’t even consider them a faction at all, so when the Lady ordered them to disband, the chaosmen didn’t bat an eye and went on as if nothing had happened.”

“I think I got it…” Lyra said weakly, her elbows rested on the table while her hands massaged her head. “So Diz is one of the Cipher, an old faction that governed the city… And what is blood?”

“A blood, cutter, is a person to be respected.” Allesha smiled fondly. “Diz might not seem like the kind, but he was a renowned Cipher during his time. After the war, he was one of the first Ciphers who helped rebuild the city.”

“And why would someone like him help us?” Bon Bon intruded. “I am sorry, but I just don’t understand. From what he said, it isn’t easy to bring us back home.” Her eyes focused on the old woman, trying to read her. But she couldn’t find anything.

“Only he knows, cutter. We don’t call them Cipher because they are easy to understand.” Allesha sighed. “Rest assured, if he said that he would help you, he would try everything to do so. As unorthodox as that blood might be, he rarely breaks his promises.”

The mares turned to each other, then to the door. The only form outside of the soup kitchen was those of the Hive’s unfortunate citizens. The wizard was nowhere to be seen. Lyra felt lost, once again. She felt her hand closed tight in Bon Bon’s.

“And if he can't help you, my pantry always opens our door for you.” Allesha gave them a reassuring smile. The gentle hawk of a woman meant well, but Bon Bon couldn’t fathom that possibility. Sure, it wasn’t the worst working there. However, it didn’t mean she wanted to work there her whole life. The people, this city, it irked her, and Lyra too. If that was what their new life would look like, they would rather do anything else to leave it.

“Maybe you can hire a tout? They ought to know where he is and help you hide from the chaosmen.” Brise's suggestion earned a glare from Allesha.

“Cutter, you know that they don’t have a jink, how can they hire a tout?”

“Maybe they can pay something else? I know a tout who doesn’t trade in jink.”

Allesha took a moment to process what Brise said. She quickly realized who she talked about. “No, a thousand times no! Brise, you know exactly how dangerous they are. And while he isn’t as chaotic as the rest, it doesn’t mean I am going to trust them in his hand.”

“Who is it?” Bon Bon slammed on the table, her head reaching across the table to Brise.

“Cutter, you don’t know what you are getting into.” Allesha said with a firm voice, like that of a mother to her daughter. “While I can’t decide what you are going to do, it isn’t wise to hire a chaosmen as your tout!”

Lyra’s body shaken as the words echoed in her mind. What happened last night was still in her head, haunting her memories. She gulped. “A chaosmen? Didn’t you say that they are evil?”

“Evil? No, but dangerous? Yes, they surely are. They do whatever they feel like, hence the name chaosmen.” An older volunteer joined in. “You can’t really be sure what they are going to do. At the moment, they might be counting sand on the streets, but in the next, they might burn down a house because they feel like it.”

“But he isn’t like that!” Brise defended the person in question. “He is good, just a little barmy, like all chaosmen do, but good. They even allowed him into the Civic Festhall.”

Allesha was about to say something, but Bon Bon took the initiative and spoke first. “Can you tell us where he is?” The mare turned to the old lady. “I am sorry, ma’am, but we are going to take any chances we can get.”

“You are a brave cutter.” Allesha bitterly said. “But what about your friend? She looks like Bleaker!”

Lyra looked up, her gaze met Allesha’s warm eyes, filled with care and worriedness. She felt like a small filly, couldn’t survive on her own and had to rely on others constantly. Gathering all of her courage and determination, she answered.

“We will be careful, ma’am!”
Defeated, Allesha could only sigh. “Just come back before it’s dark, will you?”


As the shock from their first impression died down, the mares could see the Hive Ward for what it was. And as (un)surprising as it was, the Hive Ward was exactly what they thought it to be.

A lawless, nightmarish pit of a town. The streets, if they could call them that, were nigh impossible to navigate, had Brise not guided them. It lacked the straight lines, while also overabundant with twist and turn, winding anywhere they wanted to. The buildings were placed in the most over complex patterns possible, as if it was made of a colt with no artistic talents. Some of them resembled those they saw in Ponyville, but spikier and more imposing. Some clustered, place one upon the other. Some were multiple buildings patched into one. The most common however, were those of the ruined and run down. The stench from the streets was haunting, it was worse than that time when Lyra had to visit a sheep farm. Garbage, filth and many kinds of refuse were dumped everywhere, clogged up the sewer and drain pipes, rainwater mixed with the wastes created thick ooze that dripped down from the roof and gathered into ponds in potholes.

The people weren't much better either. Something told Bon Bon that those they met at the pantry were the best of the Hive. Trying their best to ignore those of ‘planar kind’ as Brise told them, which they assumed were the evil looking ones, the three of them made their way across the drudges and the scums of the city. No less than three times had they been forced to stop by either an old lady who tried to sell them her equally bizarre ware, from boiled rat to fetishes made of bone, or a thief tried to take something from them, even if they had nothing on them.

The cloak they had, which the mare hadn’t found out from where did they come from, helped. It wasn’t raining, but the air was foul, gloomy and cold. They found it hard to breathe, and coughing had become more regular. They felt their lungs swelled, as if they could cough their lungs out. The smog wasn’t good for them, nor was it for anyone else. No wonder many of the pantry’s guests were sick. Brise, using her innate genasi magic, helped them by filtering the air around her.

There they were, barely visible on the street sign was its name: ‘Black Boot Walk’. Brise stood under the sign, she hesitated.

“You are looking for a tiefling called Barmy. He should be around the burned houses, where they painted murals on the ruins. If you can get him what he wants, he may help you.”

“You aren’t going to come with us?” Lyra asked. She could see a frightened girl in Brise’s lilac eyes. The genasi shook her head.

“Let’s go.” Bon Bon pulled Lyra, before she could ask Brise any other question. ‘Better be quick, before we are too scared to move.’ She kept it for herself.

The search for this ‘Barmy’ was both easy, and hard at the same time. Easy, since the street only had a few souls on it. Hard, because everywhere seemed the same. Burned houses, ruins of old buildings, and mysterious murals decorated the street. Honestly, the murals made the grimy street somewhat lively.

From what Brise told them, a tiefling should look like Lyra, but with more animalistic features. A pair of horns was one of the common traits. Some had goat-like legs, while others had tails. Unlike the mare, the tiefling’s skin often took a darker shade and warmer tone.

After a few minutes of looking around, the mares found a peculiar looking person. From their figure, they guessed that it was a tiefling. The short horns checked out. The figure sat on a piece of debris with cans of paint and brushes, wearing nothing but a short jacket and a pair of old, tough trousers. His hands and feet were wrapped in off-white rags. The most striking feature of him, however, was their skin. Painted over the skin was numerous paintings, or was it really only one? Some of it was scenic, others were abstract. The painting spread all the way to his face, covering the lower half of his left face with colors. A blazing sun adorned on his chest.

That must be the ‘Barmy’ Brise told them about.

“Excuse me-” Before Bon Bon could ask him anything, the tiefling held out a finger. He didn't say anything, but that was enough to convey his words.

A little angered, Bon Bon was about to ask him once again. However, Lyra stopped her, putting a finger on her lips and pointed at the painting on the wall. It was a torrent of colors, mixed and matched in unexplainable ways. Somehow, it mesmerized them. But even Bon Bon could see that it wasn’t quite finished.

Lyra found them a ‘comfortable’ seat, and the two watched the painter finishing his work. It took him a long while. There were moments he pulled the brush out, held it inches away from the painting, only to put it back down. His gaze turned everywhere, from the mares, to the sky, to the painting, then back to the mare and the ground beneath them. Her patience grew thin, Bon Bon forced herself to sit down as Lyra’s eyes begged her to not disturb him. After a torturous hour (for the earth mare, Lyra found the experience while rejuvenating), the painter finally put his brush down on the wall, and gave it a straight, harsh line across, separating the mural into two. Content with his work, he turned to the mares.

“You want me to lead you to old man Diz’s kip, don’t you?”

“HOW DID YOU KNOW IT?” Surprised, Lyra couldn’t keep her voice down. “Can you read our minds?”

“Nah, too complicated. Never get anything above fingerpaints. I just do. So, you need me to guide you to him or not?” He said with the gleeful face of a child. The tiefling himself had the charm of a colt, even if he didn’t look that young.

“What do you want?” Bon Bon took her chance. “You don’t take money, right?”

“Yeah, jink, copper, whatever you call them. Too abstract, makes too little sense to me. And I am a chaosman!” The tiefling laughed. “What do I want? Sirrah, what can you put on the table?” His eyes looked at them with glee.

“We… we don’t have anything of value…” Lyra said, sheepishly. Her gaze shifted to the painting once more. The tiefling took notice of that.

“You are an artist, are you not?” He asked her. “Say, cutter, I am looking for someone to paint my back, can you do that?”

Lyra looked at him, then pointed at the brushes. “With that?”

“With that. If I like the painting, I will guide you to him.”

Bon Bon held Lyra’s hand as the unicorn’s body began to shake. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

But her answer wasn’t one Bon Bon would expect. Lyra rolled her sleeves over and picked the brush up. She stood there, waiting for the tiefling. He nodded, and began to take off his jacket, showing them the rest of the painting on him. He sat down so that Lyra could work on him.

Honestly, she had no idea where to start, or what to draw. Like the rest of his body, his back was covered in ink, paint, and anything in between. She could make out some of the mountain ranges, a tower perhaps? Blindly, she decided to draw whatever came to her mind. A flower maybe?

Bon Bon sat still and observed them. In turn, the tiefling observed her. “You two came here from Allesha’s place, right?” He asked nonchalantly.

“How do you know all of that?” Bon Bon asked him back, inquisitively. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” He shrugged, making Lyra pull the brush back. “Take too much time, staying in the dark doing nothing but looking. It’s too boring. I just do, sirrah.” A smug smirk appeared on his face.

“I don’t believe that.”

“And you don’t have to.” If only Bon Bon could kick him in the face right at that moment, hard and fast, she would.

Lyra began to make some shapes and forms in her painting. The flower wasn’t fitting at all, it felt wrong on him. He needed something else, something that could symbolize his character, she thought to herself. And so, she dipped the brush into the white paint can.

“So… you are Barmy, right? I am Lyra Hears-”

“Don’t bother yourself with all of those things.” He waved his hand. “Names and tags aren’t needed. Just you and me is good enough.”

“You don’t like having a name? Do you… hate your name?”

“Oh, I have names, and tags too. I just don’t want one to specify myself, fixing me with it. It’s limiting, you catch my drift? What if I tell you that my name is Tony today, and feel like a Hans tomorrow? See? Just call me whatever you like.”

“But what if we want to tell other po-peoples about you? How should we tell them then?”

“If they know me, they will understand you, sirrah. If they don’t, and not planning to do so, why bother? If you feel like calling me Barmy, do it, if you feel like something else, use it. I don’t mind that. In fact, no, not fact, fact is too hard, it means something that is always right, whatever, I am always looking for new names and tags too. A fancy new name would be good. Fancy? Good? Bizarre? Anything would do actually. Maybe something normal too? I haven’t been called Steve for quite some time. But Steve is too normal, don’t you think? Maybe because it is so normal, that it becomes chaotic? Sirrah, what is the definition of normality to you? What is the state or normal? What exactly is normalcy? All this chaotic city spun around me is normal, but it is chaotic, isn’t it? You haven’t been here long, haven’t you? The cuts on her fingers, they are new. You helped Allesha, didn't you? Speaking of Allesha, did you know that the chaosmen planted the garden behind her for the kitchen? Yeah, planted! We dug the little trees out and planted them down again! Moving houses for them. Houses ‘round the Hive is rather weird, don’t you think? But that makes them normal. A normal house is weird here. Have you tried eating in a normal house? The eggs can taste like fish and carrots, and the milk reeks of beef. But you two don’t know that, do you? You don’t seem like the kind that eat meat after all-”

Bon Bon couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows and gripping her fist tight. This man made her feel irritated as time and his conversation went on. His ramble didn’t seem to end anytime soon. Lyra had already given up, instead, she focused on the painting. It was nigh finished.

“And old man Diz’s case is properly near the hall too! If he is jailed there, it would mean he is only a few minutes from home, how funny is tha-”

“DONE!” Lyra wiped the sweat on her face, and looked at her finished work. Honestly, it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t her masterpiece either. Adorned on his back was a pair of white wings, spread out wide from shoulder to shoulder. Lyra was proud, it was her first attempt at such a thing, but it wasn’t bad at all. The unicorn giggled to herself.

Bon Bon however, wasn’t as amused as her friend. She could make out the shape of the wings, but the shapes and lines were a tangled mess. She wondered if this tiefling would be angry or not. Then she thought ‘How would he be able to see it at all?’, he didn’t have any mirror, or a camera. Lyra seemed to realize it too.

“How are you going to see it?” She asked him. To which, the tiefling smirked with his teeth bared.

“Whatever you painted is fine, sirrah. It’s the intent that matters.” He wore his jacket back up. “So, what did you paint, Unicorn Girl?”

“Unicorn? You know that we are ponies too?” Lyra smiled back, shyly. Could this man read their mind? She thought that he must be able to-

“What’s a pony? The Arcadian pony? Are you loony, sirrah?” His smile dropped, the young man asked with pure confusion of a child, which took Lyra by surprise.

“No, we were ponies, me and Bon Bon were. When we came to Sigil, we looked like this.” She pointed at herself, from her horn to her leg. The tiefling observed her for a moment, then shrugged.

“Never heard of your kind before. But no matters. Anyways, what did you paint on me?”

“A pair of wings. My pegasus friends said that their wings let them soar freely in the sky. I think that would fit you.”

“You have pegasi in your rank too? Huh…” He tapped his chin. “You two are more interesting than I thought.”

“Thank you? You are quite interesting too, uh… Mural?” Lyra was hesitant to use the name.

“Mural? As in the mural painter you met on Black Boot Walk?” His smile became a little less intimidating, and more playful than it was.

“Well, it isn’t the most original, is it?”

“Nah, I have seen worse.” He put his arms over their shoulders and pulled the mares toward him. Thankfully, his odor was that of paint and charred wood. “So, Unicorn Girl, Grumpy Face, you two need this Mural here to guide you to the old man’s place, right? Should we go now, or do you two want to do it later?”

“Actually, can we come back to Allesha?” Bon Bon said, pressing her anger inward so that she wouldn’t kick his head for the nickname. “She was quite worried when we said that we were going to meet you.”

“It’s Allesha to ya, she cares too much. But no matter, let’s give her a visit then. Has been a while since I saw her face to face.”

‘And I can see why.’ Bon Bon thought to herself, trying to escape from the tiefling’s embrace. At the street sign, they saw Brise, still waiting for them. The three met, and Brise immediately berated Mural as she saw Bon Bon struggling to get out.