The Survival Of The Species

by Borderline Valley

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Other
Length: 63194

We all know what happens when one or two humans are sent to Equestria, right? Well, what happens when the gods copy/paste a fantasy village full of us into the Everfree?

When a fantasy world’s story ends in fire, the gods of the humans sacrifice everything to send the last remnant of their charges to a new world, beyond the reach of their powerful enemies.

The humans who had lost everything are now given a new world to explore, but will the hazards of the Everfree prove too much for them? And how exactly will the Equestrians react to their new neighbors?

Will the humans adapt to their new gods, or will they die out twice?

This is my first fic, I wanted to try something I haven't seen before.
I can't improve without criticism. Feel free to point stuff out.

Published 2013-06-08 16:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-10 19:18:28 UTC

Chapter 2: Survival Measures

Rodin Everblaze

In my mind’s eye the runes blaze with the energy I fed them. Finally, enough power has gathered and they vanish from my mind as if they had never been there. In my very real eyes, I behold the flash of light that accompanies the appearance of several dozen loafs of freshly baked bread.

The woman carrying the once-empty basket bows to me, murmuring her thanks as she left. Out the door, I can see the line of others holding similarly empty baskets stretch and stretch…

It’s nearly enough to make a man cry.

I already have a pounding headache from casting the same spell, over and over, but I am nowhere near tapped. Meanwhile Sophia continued pleading, dangling on the end of my arm.
“Please, daddy, let me try! I’m ready, I promise!”

“You are not. The spell requires runes you will not learn for another four years.” I respond, again, my voice a dry monotone after a whole hour of denying her.

I can hear her eyes pleading at me.

“Isn't there another spell we can use then?”

The question actually provokes thought from me. I suspect my mind to be desperately grasping at straws to satiate the little demon, but at this point I no longer care if I’m being manipulated. Anything to rest this headache.

I go over the runes I know she knows, trying to piece together a solution I may have overlooked.

The main problem was the ‘Creation’ rune. It was not taught to children for a reason, it was dangerous, and not because of its potential applications.

Rather than create the food, what can she do? Transmuting requires forbidden runes as well… What if she just… summoned it? Where would it come from, there’s no civilization here yet. Or is there?

“Alright, Sophia, I have an idea, though it may not work.” The resulting sound that came from her is at once joyous and subdued. I found myself smiling through my headache. “The runes are as follows. The center is Calling, tempered by Food, chained with the pair Edible and Human. Use a Limiter, but don’t set it too low. Got that?”

As soon as I started naming the runes, her eyes both focused and unfocused in a manner I knew well. “Yes daddy. Anything else?” She sounds distracted, and she should. This is one of the most difficult spells I've assigned her.

Almost without thinking, I pictured the runes for Sight and Magic. In a heartbeat I was watching as my daughter shown with a bright aura. That aura then bent, near her hand, twisting into strange geometries before shining with a bright light.

She’s doing better than I had hoped. Not very efficient, but that’s to be expected.

A soft ‘pop’ struck my ears and I drop my magical sight to behold her results.

A wooden barrel rests before her, filled with some unknown liquid. On top of it sits what appears to be a freshly baked apple pie.

“It worked” she exclaims, “I made a pie!”

I feel the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile. “Not quite. You summoned a pie. And a barrel of… ” I worked the tap and scooped a handful of amber liquid to my nose and mouth. “Apple cider?”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

“Nope. Summoning works by taking something that already exists somewhere in the world, and bringing it to the caster.” It feels good to give a lesson, here where I don’t have to worry about keeping the guild secrets anymore. The guild no longer exists. Who cares if commoners overhear and learn a few things about magic they can never use anyway?

Sophia frowned. “Isn't that like stealing though?”

I wince. It is. Exactly like stealing. “Well… Yes. It was only cast it once. My spell actually creates the food out of nothing, so I’m not bothering anyone by doing it.”Except perhaps any gods of creation on this plane I add silently. “However, even if it was, the alternative is to let the whole village starve. It’s only a temporary measure anyway.”

“I suppose.” Suddenly she looked a lot less eager to help.

I was glad for the reprieve, but the line is getting antsy. Sighing, I picture the runes in my mind again, calling upon my reserves to fuel the spell.

I could do this all day if I was only summoning it. We really need to find a proper source of food soon.

The lake was fished dry after the second day, which I was almost glad for. I never liked the taste of fish. Of course, that left me as the only source of food left on this little Island. That cursed ravine apparently extends around the whole place, and we have yet to bridge it.

Now, I pride myself on being a powerful mage, but conjuring enough raw food to feed the whole village has driven me quickly to my limit.

I am hungry!

This type of magic is fueled by my body after all! I swear I've lost weight. Not that I had much to lose in the first place, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is that this cannot continue. We need food, and that food is not on this side of that ravine.

After the lunch crowd is over, I swear I’m going to go find Captain Weathers and get this problem solved!

Samuel Weathers

“I am not a tree, made so that others might come gather fruit at their whim! This arrangement is unacceptable!”

I spare a glance at Rodin as he walks beside me. He looks gaunt, as if he hasn't slept or eaten in days, though I've seen him do plenty of both. His words rasp like sandpaper on a rough stone.

Eh. I've seen him worse.

“Indeed it is.”

“And Sophia! Gods help me, she knows she’s reached the limit she’s allowed, but she keeps asking!”

We left the doors to the gatehouse behind us and are approaching the ravine. I see two of my guards, scanning the forest beyond for threats.

“Report, soldier.”

To their credit they didn't flinch, nor take their eyes off the forest. Of course, they had warning in the form of an exhausted and ranting mage accompanying my normally silent approach.

“Nothing of note, sir. We hear birds but that’s it.”

That’s another thing I wanted Rodin out here for. It seems there is no wildlife this side of the ravine; save for the fish, not even the birds crossed the ravine. It makes me wonder if we were not camping on a deathtrap the wildlife knew to avoid. Either that or they knew we’d eat them if they so much as gave us half a chance. Food had been short, as Rodin knew well by now.

Of course, there was a solution. Beyond the ravine was a lush forest, undoubtedly filled with all sorts of food, just waiting to be harvested. Of course, it was also filled with the animals that ate that food, and the animals that ate those animals and... who knows what else. As I looked at it, I could feel the fear encroaching on my consciousness and tried to squash it. Those shadows should not fill me with such foreboding. I suspected magic at play and had therefore brought along the magic expert.

“Good. Rodin?”

The mage ceases mid rant. Suddenly his eyes are boring into mine with tired curiosity. “Yeeeess?”

“What can you tell me about that forest?”

He turns, squinting at the trees as his eyes take on his reddish glow. He scrutinizes it, mumbling to himself. “There’s something odd… unless I can get closer…” He’s silent for a full minute.

I follow his gaze as best I can, as the red glow of his eyes make his pupils hard to track. I’m pretty sure he’s looking at the trees, but I think he looked down at the ravine a couple of times. Eventually I just shrug and scan the forest for threats. I’m not a mage. Let mages do their thing.

“Hey Sam,” he says after a while.

“What?” I ask.

“We need a bridge, right?”

“Yes, but-”

Without so much as waiting for me to finish, he sweeps his staff out in front of him in an arc. I can’t see the compressed air of his slash, but I know from training with him that it’s there.

“but, we…”

The wind launched from his staff reaches the other side of the ravine, colliding into the trees, and slicing through them like so much butter.

“Ha.” his tired voice utters what was probably supposed to be a laugh.

I look over to see Rodin tip backwards, and catch him before he hits the ground. He’s out cold.

Oh look, the trees are falling. Towards us. And only one of my brilliant guards is running.

“Back the fuck up soldier!” I shout, having to literally drag the other guard away from the cascading branches.

I doubt he heard me through the cacophony that a dozen ancient trees make when they fall across a ravine.

We got out of the way in time, thankfully. I sent the guards back to the Healers with Rodin carried between them, and got to work inspecting my new, very sub-par, bridge.

Terry Forge

I stand at our end of the bridge they lashed together, bored out of my skull.

With literally, the entire guard out hunting and gathering, a few of us citizen-soldiers get to spend a few hours manning the gates, as it were.

I suppose when you’re the last humans alive you gotta pitch in right?

I swear to the gods, Nick better wait for me like he promised.

We were transported here, right? None of our hammers are with us, not even a single piece of scrap metal to our name. Our forge? The anvils dad passed down to us? Our lives work? That’s all back home.

Can’t complain too much. If we were home we’d be dead. Still. What’s a Forge to do without a forge, right?

So. Imagine our surprise when the biggest smithy we've ever laid eyes on is handed to us on a silver platter.

Even better! There’s this whole supply of old rusty arms and barding just waiting to be cleaned up or melted down. We finally organized the first room, but I got Nick to promise me he wouldn't start the actual smithy work till my shift is up.

The kids were even harder to keep at bay than Nick, though I think I had an easier time of it than I would have if they weren't so hungry.

I sigh. Guard duty. Nothing exciting ever happens around here.

I think the worst part about Guard Duty is that you have to wait for something to happen, while fervently hoping nothing ever does.

I mean, what makes Guard Duty exciting? Trouble. But trouble gets you killed.

I hefted my hammer, and look over at my partner on duty. It’s one of the tailors, name escapes me, but he does good work. Did. He did good work. Doesn't exactly have the right tools for that anymore, now does he.

I suppose my family’s lucky like that.

Now that I think about it, almost nobody can do the same work that they used to. Damn, that sucks.

...

I’d give my left foot for some action.

…

A sniffing noise comes from the other end of the ravine, followed by the biggest damn cat you’ve ever seen. But this one has wings. And a scorpion tail.

I break out in a cold sweat, “I didn't mean it, I swear!”

“ROAAAR!”

The cat-thing made to cross the bridge and devour me messily.

But then it stops, acting like it was stung by a particularly nasty wasp or something.

It snorts in agitation, and shuffles backwards into the forest cover. I can’t even hear its footsteps anymore.

Tailor-man just fainted. I kinda envy him. Now I get to be the one who reports this.

Alexander Birchwood

The good Captain and his guard returned successful from the hunt. He brought us deer, among other things. Wild berries and fruit are going to take some getting used to, I’d imagine.

I’m not complaining, though. It’s barely enough to satiate the hunger of so many, but it is enough. The Captain tells me that we’re lucky it’s Springtime here; were it winter we would be starving.

What this tells me, is that we’re going to need a more permanent food-source eventually, but so long as we can hunt and gather in the forest, we will survive for the moment.

What we really need are farms. Too many families were nothing but simple farmers a week ago.

I rest my head on the desk I’m sitting at.

Everything is too small; small and oddly shaped. Rodin can’t tell me what used to live here, but it certainly wasn't human. At least the Forges and Woodworking families have had enough to keep busy. This desk is somewhere on their list of things to modify for human use, but in the meantime I have to make do.

Construction proceeds as well as could be expected. We've got a nice series of hovels underway, made from stone blocks and mud, and furnished with ferns or something from the nearby forest.

Soon we might actually have enough shelter for everyone to sleep with a roof over their head. Imagine that.

The Captain had the castle's old walls torn down, he said they were “as liable to help an invader by toppling onto us while we slept as keep anyone out.” And then he ordered the construction of a new wall, hugging the edge of the ravine.

I think he’s just a little paranoid of the forest, but it gives the people something to do.

I don’t even want to think about what would happen if so many were bored out of their skulls at the same time.

It would likely end us.

I stand from my too-small desk and stretch. I’d better go make rounds again. As nice as it would be, I can’t be seen to just sit around all day.

Rodin Everblaze

I finally awake to the lovely smell of disinfectant. I’m not even going to ask the Healers where they got a hold of it, but it serves to instantly tell me where I am.

“Welcome back Mr. Everblaze. We've got to stop meeting like this you know.”

I groan at his horrific attempt at humor. “Stow it, James. How long was I out?”

“Only a day, this time. Sophia brought you flowers.”

With an effort, I manage to achieve a sitting position. It aggravates my headache, but it’s worth it. The flowers are pretty. Reds and yellows, their fragrance reminds me of a rare spice I once sampled when I visited Noxin that one time.

“hmmm. Remind me to thank her.”

“Of course I will. Here, drink this.”

He hands me a cup of something. Like an idiot, I put it to my lips and take a swig without thinking.

It tastes like the underside of a pig in the midday sun. I choke on it as the bastard laughs.

“Not very pleasant, is it? Well, we don’t exactly have much to work with here, let me tell you.”

His eyes are mischievous, but I can tell he’s anxious. I would be too.

“How are they doing?” I ask.

Swivels on his makeshift stool and looks at the other patients in the room. There are four of them. All of them are strangers in this town, soldiers of some kind from the war, sent to us so that they could heal.

“We've been able to keep them stable, but recovery will be slow.” He meets my gaze. “We need sacrifices if that man’s arm will ever be restored. We both know that.”

I nod. “I’ll ask the Captain to try capturing a few animals. But we need the food. If all else fails, I’ll summon something.”

He frowns. We both know the implications of summoning live creatures.

“You’ll do nothing until you've recovered. Healer’s orders.”

Fair enough. That gives the Captain time to snag a few live rabbits or something.

I roll my eyes and lean back onto my makeshift bed.“Fiiine.”

"Good. Now, food then rest."

Mender brings me something to eat, a wild pear and some venison. It’s better than the bread I made, that’s for sure. One quick breathing exercise later and I’m out like a candle.

Chapter 3: The Forest of Watchful Shade

Herbert Senthson

The forest that surrounds us was named by the first squad that was stuck out after nightfall. They told us horror stories, when they finally stumbled back into camp, about eyes in the shadows between the trees that they could feel but not see.

This forest strikes fear into all our hearts, but it is our life-blood, our food-source.

If it wasn't necessary we wouldn't be out here. I wouldn't be out here.

As it is, it’s hard to keep my hands steady on my bow when walking in the Forest of Watchful Shade.

I can’t shake the feeling that I shouldn't be here. Yes, I’m a good hunter. Yes, I volunteered when the guard started letting us ‘civilians’ help them on patrols. But I sincerely doubt I’ll be bagging any game when I can’t keep the arrow straight on the bowstring.

I shouldn't be acting like this.

This isn't right.

I used to hunt wolves for Goodness’s sake!

Something darts from one tree to another, and the entire hunting party freezes in place.

One of the guards slowly straightened from picking some herb off a knee-high bush, and drew his axe.

Unhindered by the chain-mail others wear, I silently creep around a tree to see what we've just stumbled upon.

It’s a… a wild chicken. No, it had a lizard’s body. And Bat wings. I’m glad it’s facing away from me; I don’t want to see what the abomination has for a face.

Silently, I thank the goddess of the hunt that can no longer hear me that I have the privilege of putting this crime against nature out of its misery.

My fingers are steady once more as I draw the bowstring and loose in a smooth motion I have practiced countless times.

At this range there is no missing.

I sound the all clear, and we bag the specimen for later. We don’t bother trying to skin it. We won’t know if it’s edible until Everblaze checks it out anyway.

My surge of confidence wanes as we move on.

Soon enough, I can feel the shadows watching me again.

Samuel Weathers

I stand next to Everblaze. The Healers finally let him out of bed, with a strict “Nothing strenuous” warning, or else they’ll “use the bad-tasting medicine next time.”

Rodin had looked shaken at that one.

I make a mental note never to piss off the Healers.

“So what did you learn from the forest?” I ask him. I don’t want to seem pushy, but I have been waiting two whole days for what should have taken twenty minutes.

He stands in front of the strange ornamental pedestal at the center of the gatehouse. So far it had resisted all attempts to be moved or destroyed, and Rodin had confirmed it was magically warded in passing.

Now it seemed he wanted a closer look at it.

“Oh. That. It’s really just a normal forest, except for a few complications.”

“Complications?” Every time I looked at the damn thing I could feel the fear worming its way into my head. I knew a magical effect when I felt it.

“Yes. It has an unusually high level of the naturally occurring background nature magic. Unusually high. I’ve been in druid groves before and they weren't half as strong.” He seemed almost dismissive of it, as if it was nothing special.

“Any side effects?” I manage to resist using sarcasm. Much.

He faces me, amusement in his eyes and voice. “Well, I have reason to believe it induces a fear effect.” He grins at his own joke. “But now that you mention it, everything should grow at exponential rates. You remember those trees I cut down?”

I nod. I tend not to forget when he nearly crushes the both of us.

“If you dig out their stumps I’ll bet you half my rations you’ll find saplings trying to replace them.”

“No bet. This is your area of expertise.”

“Hmf. Spoilsport.” He returns his attention to the stone piece.

I take a second look at the piece of work I had dismissed as ornamental. Its base was rectangular, and it rose to about waist height, before rising as a column to support a large stone sphere. Out from the column jutted five branches that sported depressions on the end. If I had to guess, five spheres used to rest there.

The first time I had seen it, it sported moss and vines, but the stone hadn't degraded at all. Now that it had been cleaned off, by someone, and it looked like it could have been installed yesterday.

Rodin absently ran a hand over a branch, small lightnings sparking between it and his fingers. I glance at his eyes. They shine red with his magic as he examines it.

“What do you see?”

It takes a moment, but he responds. “This is the best warded piece of the whole collection. It’s a different medium of magic; I can’t understand a sliver of it. But I can test it. Age spells, fire spells, shock, force, I can’t find a weakness in the wards. And the wards barely react. With the barracks I can at least see the shock-waves as I poke at it, but this is… stronger.”

I’m not going to even try to pretend I understood that. “Medium of magic?”

The glow in his eyes flickers out momentarily, as he glances at me. “Uh… yes. I…” He stops and frowns for a moment, then seems to arrive at a decision.

“Alright. If the guild still existed, I would be killed for telling you this, but at this point, I don’t care.”

I raise my eyebrows, but say nothing.

“Nobody understands magic.” I restrain the impulse to slap him silly. “Sure we can use it, mess with it, play with it, really. But truly understand it? Nope. What little we know is crafted for us by the gods like you craft a wooden sword for an infant to play with.”

“That… sounds… frustrating.”

Rodin just shrugs. “It’s why there are so many schools of magic. Different toy weapons, you could say. Fundamentally, all magic is the same. But only the gods can understand how it works on that fundamental level. Some used to theorize that understanding how magic really works was what made gods, well, gods.”

“So when you say this is a different medium of magic…”

Rodin nods, gesturing to the pedestal. “This is just a different wooden toy, but like a child, I can’t see how the bow works for being too focused on the sword.”

“So you can only learn one?”

“Well. No. You can learn several. I use a kind specified as Rune Calling, mostly. The Healers use Spirit Weaving, which I've dabbled in, and I've received training in Ritual Study,” he smiled wryly. “Ritual Study is useless here though. I've tried, it simply no longer works.”

Wait. Why is he telling me this? “Why are you telling me this?”

Rodin gives me a look I couldn't interpret. “As Captain of the Guard, our safety is your priority. You've received training in magical defense and combating mages like myself. You've learned all the rules on how magic works, and doesn't work.”

I nod. I have. I don’t like remembering that hellish month of training, but it proved exceedingly useful in my line of work.

He spreads his arms like an actor giving a line, a grin on his face. “Those rules are now garbage! Trash! Irrelevant! The rules have changed! This is a new world, it runs on new rules!”

The urge to smack him silly is rising.

Thankfully he calms down a bit. “Seriously though. Whatever we encounter is going to be so different from what we’re used to, it’s liable to spit in the face of everything we know. You need to be prepared for that, as well as understand why. Sometimes it’s the why that’s important.”

That… makes a measure of sense, I’ll admit. It’s certainly food for thought.

But, wait, “How did you know the forest will regrow its trees then?”

He just grinned. “It’s a common link. Don’t ask me why, but their version of nature magic is very similar to ours. All Gaia’s think alike I suppose.”

I laugh at his joke. A few of them are actually good.

“Ha. So,” I began, changing the subject, “What can you tell me about Rune Calling. Can anyone learn it?”

“Nope. Anyone can learn the other two, but the potential for Rune Calling is hereditary. It’s why the Guild was always into nepotism,” he paused. “I’m not sure how much I should share, really. The Guild kept its secrets for more than just selfish reasons; otherwise I would have been blabbing its secrets long before now.”

“I can understand that.” I don’t exactly share my mage-killing techniques with him, so I can’t be too upset. Not that they’ll be as useful now… Damn, I need time to think about this.

Sophia Everblaze

I sat on a stump that some adults had set by the bridge.

There were four guards standing nearby, and they wouldn't talk to me. It was very boring.

I know I asked for some way to help, but I’m just sitting around, not doing anything.

I take to idly drawing some runes in the dirt to make sure I've memorized them. Once, I drew the rune for Fire, and felt this sort of tug in my finger, and then there was a lot of fire. Daddy thought it was funny, but Sam was sort of angry I think.

After that daddy taught me how to avoid feeling that tug when I draw runes. And that was a long time ago anyway. It hasn't happened since.

After running through all of them for a third time, I groan and try looking at the forest again. It’s a scary forest. The trees get really tall, and there are all these really dark shadows.

I’m glad I got a job, but it’s a really boring job. I have to wait for something to happen before I get to do anything.

There’s a bit of rustling in the bushes. The guards all stand straighter, and mine shifts a little closer to me.

Out of the shadows come another group of guards, and a couple other adults. They’re carrying large bags, and many of them are soaked with red.

That’s great! Daddy says that means there will be lots to eat tonight.

The guards wave them onward, but mine stops them.

“Hold on, we need to screen everything first.”

They line up in front of me, and I get ready. I love this part! Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the runes, remembering daddy’s instructions. The center is Sight, enhance it with Magic, and then tack on a low-level limiter to screen out the background magic.

I imagine my magic flow into the runes, filling them all the way up! I know it worked because the runes disappear, as if I never imagined them.

Opening my eyes, everything looks grey, like someone poked a hole in the world and drained out all the color. Except for the forest, it’s glowing a nice bright yellow color, but daddy said I should ignore that. Everybody’s shadows were different too. They were all… different.

The guard opens his sack and shows me its contents, a bunch of fruits. I poke around with a stick, but don’t see anything.

“That one’s good.”

The next guard shows me his bag, it’s full of dead rabbits, but there’s no color in them.

“That’s good too.”

The fourth one’s bag was leaking a bright green light. I laughed a little bit, this was different!

“That one’s glowing green!” I exclaimed, pointing at it.

The man holding it looked surprised, I guess because I didn't even have to look inside.

I grabbed the bag and peeked inside.

There was this thing that reminded me of daddy’s stories about dragons.

“Is that a Dragon? It’s glowing green, that’s so cool!”

I didn't get to look anymore, because my guard took the bag and ran off to show it to daddy.

Rodin Everblaze

I stood in the basement of the Healer’s building. One of James Mender’s apprentices apparently had found a secret stairwell that ended in what could only be described as jail cells.

We’re here to do the summoning.

It’s been the better part of a week, and the Captain hasn't been able to get live captures. James is getting impatient too. Heh. Impatient.

“So it’s come to this” I observe, as I begin drawing the circle on the stone with my staff.

“Yep. Take every precaution.” James is outside the cell.

“You don’t need to be here, I keep telling you.”

He laughs, and tells me, “I requested it, I will be present to take part in the risk. And I’m here to watch you. Simply because I say you’re back up to speed again, doesn't mean I’m letting you kill yourself at the first opportunity.”

“Have you no faith in my self-restraint?”

“No.”

I finish drawing the circle and grin at him through the bars.

“Alright, fine. Got any advice on what to look for?”

“You know the rules, anything non-sentient.”

I wince. If I could guarantee that, they’d have made me an arch-mage. “I’m afraid that’s always a risk. Now hush, I need to think.”

The circle I drew in the stone shown a bright red, the signature of my personal aura. I began to trace out the runes with the crystal on the end of my staff.

Calling rune at five equal intervals. Temper each with Creature, chain it with Spirit, follow it with a paired Four and Leg, and end the chain with a paired Plant and Food.

“How’s a four-legged Herbivore sound?” I ask absently, as I painstakingly carve the runes.

“Should work. I can’t think of any sentient herbivores back home… Other than the Bovine Tribes.” He admitted.

“That’s right,” I mused. “But they’re quite large…”

I continue to add runes, limiting the Summoning to a creature that will fit in the rather small circle I've drawn.

I add a Limiter, but set the value at a ridiculously high value. Just a formality, really; nobody wants to accidentally summon the god of shrews.

“Alright. It’s ready.” I can feel the runes reaching out to me, such a powerful working already trying to drain me of the magic needed to complete it, but I hold it off for the moment. “Remember, If this blows up, you owe me twelve days of research into better tasting medicine.”

“If this blows up, I doubt you’ll live to see it.”

“You’re on.” I let the runes take ahold of my magic, and actually help them take it, by ramming it down their thirsty, little throats. Even unaided, my eyes can see the reddish flare of light from the diagrams on the floor.

The red light expands to fill the circle, and builds upwards in a sphere.

The sphere distorts, as if a string at a great distance tugged at it.

Oh, shit.

I turn and dive through the doorway of the jail cell, and the world is replaced with a bright white light.

Rainbow Dash

I was having such a nice nap. I was dreaming of flying, trying out a new trick I read about in a magazine.

Then there was this sort of acceleration, as if something ran-into me mid-flight. It was odd but it didn't hurt.

I looked down to see the culprit.

“Derpy! You ran into me!”

She untangled herself and we stabilized our respective flights. “Sorry Rainbow Dash, I didn't see you there.”

I just shrugged, and went back to trying out that trick. I almost had it right…

And then I woke up.

Waking up in a strange place is not new to me; living a life of pranks tends to result in ending up on the other end of them more often than one might like.

Waking up in the epicenter of a crater, unscathed, is a new one though.

“Pinkie? How’d you get me out of my house?”

The walls were even emitting little wisps of smoke, now that’s attention to detail. Wait, walls? Where am I exactly?

That’s when I noticed the bars.

One wall is dominated primarily by floor to ceiling bars of iron that were bent at awkward angles. Beyond them, I can see two blackened forms on the floor. It looked sort of like a jail cell, but the door had been torn off its hinges.

I got up and trotted out of the cell. The two forms smelled terrible, like burned flesh. “Great attention to detail, Pinkie…” I muttered.

I was in a hallway of some sort. Not entirely sure how I got here, but it’s not like I can get more lost, right?

I was about to head right, when I heard the sound of somepony descending the stairs.

“Hey, is that you Pinkie Pie?”

Two somethings turned the corner, wearing some kind of armor and carrying a net. Neither of them were Pinkie Pie.

Chapter 5: Of Monsters and Men

Herbert Senthson

I miss my bow.

When we’re out in the forest like this, the security the bow gives me is comforting. I've used a bow all my life, and with wolves in these woods, going without it is disconcerting.

I shift the net I’m carrying around on my back, trying to get it to rest a little more comfortably.

We've been out all day, but have barely gathered anything. It’s these wolves, they’re scaring away all the game, I just know it. I haven’t so much as seen a rabbit all day. Usually they’re more than plentiful, so long as you know where to look.

We've collected tons of fruit though, so we won’t be going back empty handed, like some parties have-

“Gah! Wolf!”

A shout from behind me, I recognize the voice as one of the guards.

Turning, I can see the guard who shouted, swinging his axe at the wolf that has a death-grip on his shield.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a second wolf take another guard by surprise, knocking him over, and snapping at the iron between it’s teeth and his throat.

A third. There’s always a third.

I have no bow, no axe, they gave me a knife, but I doubt it’d so much as scratch their wooden hides. I’m no guard, all I have is this net and some rope.

I turn my back on the guards, there’s half a dozen to each hunting party now, more than enough to deal with this. Still, I can’t help but feel guilt as I fervently look everywhere but the fight, searching for the third wolf.

There. It’s wooden hide blends in with the trees, were it not for the glowing eyes I’d never have seen it.

It sees that I see it. It’s contemplating the best way to season my corpse, I can just see it. Well, I’m not giving it the opportunity. Just as it starts to pounce, my net tangles it’s forelegs and jaws up, bringing it crashing to the ground.

I've never moved so quickly in my life, darting over to it with my rope in hand, trying to tie it up before it gets free. It would never have worked, but the other civilian hunter and the Sergeant see what I’m doing and join in.

With the other hunter's net hindering its hind-legs, and a judicious application of rope, we've got a nicely trussed up timber wolf ready to go.

The guards that killed the other two wolves have sustained some injury, but nothing a little first aid doesn't solve. It almost makes me want to get me some of that armor; if I had been their first target, I’d have died in seconds.

“Good thinking Herbert!” the sergeant grips my shoulder with a friendly gauntlet, “How did you know there would be a third?”

I give him a tired smile, the adrenaline wearing off as we drag the thrashing beast across the forest floor. “You might know war, Sergeant, but I know wolves. They rarely attack without an ambush waiting.”

We meet a returning patrol by chance on our way back, and merge ranks fluidly, the Sergeant taking control as the highest ranked officer present. I relax a little, the extra layers of protection make me feel a little safer.

The other patrol bears signs of assault as well. One of the guards is supporting another as he limps.

Their hunters bear a prize between them. Suspended in a net, struggling almost as much as our wolf, is a large deer, still very much alive and unharmed.

That’s what’s made everything so difficult. The healers need living animals, for their work, but they have to be unharmed. That means pure net-work. No arrows to the joints, no breaking their legs so they can’t run… This deer looks unharmed though, which would make it the first catch of its kind.

Exactly what we've been needing.

Devin Binder

We still haven’t figured out exactly what the master did, but it worked.

When they first brought the two of them upstairs it was immediately clear that they had suffered from extreme burns. Hayley and I worked through the night to stabilize them, but once we had, one thing became abundantly clear: Rodin should be dead, but he’s not.

I haven’t been an apprentice as long as Hayley, but we've both seen burn cases, and people have died from less-serious burns before. James wasn't nearly as badly burned, but it was enough to keep us from noticing the signs until later that night.

Somehow he had entangled their spirits, anchoring each other to their bodies.

I can’t even imagine how master did it, but it was keeping Rodin’s spirit from leaving his body.

It took its toll on James though. He’s wasting away faster than we can heal him without a sacrifice.

That’s why it’s such a relief to have the deer struggling before us.

The room is quickly getting crowded. In just today alone, our number of patients doubled, twelve of the beds now occupied by the injured. Somehow one of our new patients has apparently been turned to stone. It’s just one more reason why we need the master back.

We've done what we can until now, and this sacrifice will help, but it’s not going to be anywhere near enough.

No, I can’t think like that right now. I have a job to do.

I look up and meet Hayley’s gaze. “You ready for this?”

She nods. “You infuse the master, I have Everblaze.”

“Right.”

I close my eyes and steady my breathing as I've been taught, ignoring all the sounds but those of my body. The rhythm of my heart slows. I reach out, not with my body, but with my other body, and feel the life in front of me.

The deer is frantic. It is caught in among predators and can smell the blood of others. It thinks it is next.

It is more than correct.

A thing that is less than sentient, it can’t resist as I grip its spirit with my own, and pull, drawing raw energy from it.

With my eyes closed, I cannot see, but I know its movements are slowing, and as we continue will slowly stiffen, losing all energy as its spirit, and therefore its body, is drained.

With the energy I draw, I reach out to my master, who’s spirit I sense, but cannot read as I can the deer's. I feed the stream of energy into him, and I feel his spirit bolster, growing strong where he had weakened.

Now that I have begun the transfer, I can’t stop, even should I have wished to. All too soon though, the last bit of energy dries up, and I feel the remnants of the deer’s spirit slip from my grasp into the afterlife.

When I open my eyes, there is only dust where the deer had been. In contrast, the master’s burns show progress for the first time. A glance at the mage shows similar progress.

It takes the better part of an hour for Hayley and I to reach a proper diagnosis: It worked. They have a grip on life again, and will heal, but without more sacrifices that could take weeks. Weeks we might not have.

Hayley’s eyes reflect my own worries, and she motions for me to carry the word to the Captain.

Terry Forge

“Bigger Shields, they say.”

*Thunk*

“Thicker Armor, they say.”

*Thunk*

“More of everything, they say.”

*Thunk*

“We've not changed the designs for decades!”

*Thunk*

“Tell me, brother,” I shout over the hammer blows, “Why must we change them now?”

*Thunk*

*Hisssss*

I inspect the hunk of metal before me, after cooling it. Passable. Dale can finish the set. Setting it aside, I brush pass the muscled form of my son as he continues to work the forge.

Nick joins me at the water barrel we wrestled down here, taking a moment to refresh himself as he answers me.

“It’s just the times changing, Terry, nothing to worry about. So the wolves can tear through the old design too easily, their solution is to change the design. That makes it our job. That’s all I need to know.”

He makes too much sense sometimes, I sigh, I guess I’m just frustrated. We've had little rest from this influx of orders. I had forgotten how much work came with preparing for war.

At least they had no shortage of volunteers. “Lendin got picked for one of the new squads, by the way. I didn't know he’d been interested.”

Nick looked at me, surprised. “Congratulations. He’ll bring the family honor, I’m sure of it!”

I nod, glad that he was glad for me. Of course, it meant that Dale had to shoulder more of the family business, but I don’t think he minds.

Were we back home, I would pray to the war gods for his safety, but here, I’m not sure what to do.

I look down at the mug I had been drinking from. Empty. Well, back to it I guess.

Sophia Everblaze

Rainbow Dash left last night after I told her what year it was. I didn't think she was coming back.

But then she did!

I just saw her. I say to her, “Hey there, Rainbow Dash! It’s breakfast time, are you hungry?” She looks like she's hungry, but she doesn't want any of my rabbit jerky.

She eats my pears though!

She doesn't look too good. Her mane is all tangled and she has bags under her eyes. “You don’t look too good, Rainbow. Did you have trouble sleeping?”

She turns and glares at the clouds slowly drifting overhead. “Sort of… I should know better than to fly without a clear head. I got a bit lost, and the skies here aren't cooperative.”

“Oh.” I don't know what that means, but it doesn't seem that important. She's here now, and that's what matters. “So what do you want to do?”

She looks at me funny, “If you were a Pegasus I’d say go flying... I don’t know kid, what do you humans usually do?”

I think about that. “I usually go bother daddy or Sam until they give me a job. But daddy’s in the hospital again… So let’s go find Sam!”

It doesn't take long to find him, I spotted him coming down from the gatehouse; he probably just finished sending out the parties of adults just like every day. I ran up to him. “Hey Sam!”

He looks at me and gives me one of those smiles adults sometimes give. “Uh, hey Sophia.” Then his eyes went all bright. “I just remembered a job I have for you, if you think you can do it.”

“Yes! A job! What is it?” I ask. Rainbow is following at a distance.

He lowers a bag he had been carrying, and takes out an axe. “Do you remember how your daddy used to enchant weapons?” I nod yes. “Did he teach you how?”

I think about it. When he does it, he drew runes on the thing... And he taught me how to draw runes on things too! “Yes.”

He doesn't look convinced. “Well, if you can enchant this axe, I have a job for you.” Then Sam left with the bag and headed into the barracks.

Rainbow walks over. “What was that about?”

I pick up the axe excitedly. It’s really heavy. “I’m going to try magic! Wana watch?”

She moves her shoulders and wings up and down. Is that how she shrugs? “Sure, why not.”

I drag the axe over to a clear area with nothing flammable nearby, just like daddy tells me to when I practice magic. “Ok, go stand over there, let me try this.”

She goes, but looks at me sideways. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course! Daddy used to do this all the time!” I say, cross that nobody thinks I can do it.

I turn my attention to the axe, and think. Daddy explained this once. He said I had to draw the rune, feed it a little power… and… was this the one where you keep pushing the magic into the rune? I’m pretty sure it is.

Just to be safe, I decide to use the rune for Fire.

Along the face of the axe, I trace the Fire rune with my finger, and where my finger touches bright orange lines appear. I think daddy called that my ‘aura’ or something.

I think it surprised Rainbow Dash because she gasped, and said something, but I was too busy to listen.

I could feel the tug in my finger, and encouraged it, imagining me shoving magic through my finger into the rune on the axe.

Oh right! It needs the rune on both sides. I flip the axe over and repeat the process, holding back the last bit of magic from going to the first rune. I’m not sure how I did that, but it felt right. Once I was done, I let the last bits of magic go to both runes, and then stuff started to go wrong.

The runes got really bright, and then there was a lot of fire.

See, I thought, as the fire enveloped me and sprayed high into the air, this is why daddy says to practice away from buildings.

Rainbow Dash

I’m not entirely sure I’m not hallucinating.

I hear sleep deprivation does that to you, and Celestia knows I've seen Twilight go a little loco in the coco after enough all-nighters.

But I totally just saw that foal enveloped in a fireball large enough and hot enough to singe my tail, and she’s perfectly fine!

“What the hay squirt! How are you still alive after that?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. Her clothes are little more than charred rags, hanging off her unblemished skin.

“I’m an Everblaze,” she says, like that explains anything.

“So?” I practically shout; this is almost too much: I haven’t had sleep. I somehow was summoned backwards in time, I feel like I’m missing something important about this place, I was nearly eaten by a timberwolf not two hours ago, and now human foals are surviving fireballs! Something Is Wrong With This Picture!

She looks a little scared, “Daddy says that when you’re an Everblaze, you can’t hurt yourself with fire magic.”

What.

“What!”

“That’s just what daddy says! I don’t know what else!” I notice that she’s nearly crying.

I notice I’m hovering a little too close, definitely inside her personal space. “Oh.”

I drop to the ground and back up a few steps. Horsefeathers, I need to get some sleep. “Sorry squirt, I’m just tired.”

There are a few moments of awkward silence. I hate those. “I’m going to go sleep in that tree, ok? If you need me, buck the tree or something.”

“Alright…”

It takes me a minute to get comfortable, and I can hear Sophia dragging the axe away.

Almost immediately after I close my eyes, I feel something hit the branch I’m lying on.

“Cmon Rainbow, wake up!”

What the hay? I look up, the sun has jumped half-way across the sky. “Aww come on! I didn't even get to enjoy it…”

I look down and see Sophia with the armored human that gave her the axe earlier. What did she call him? Sam? Neither the axe, nor the bag is in sight.

“Sam wants to ask you something!” she’s still shouting, even though I’m not that far away.

I hop down from my perch, flapping once to slow my fall. “What is it?”

Samuel Weathers

Sophia was a great help. She translated what I asked word for word. But apparently this ‘pony’ doesn't want to help us.

What was so horrific about helping to catch animals, anyway? She’d probably make a great hunter, fast as she is. Unfortunately she had used that speed to retreat back to the top-most branches of her tree and stare at me in horror.

“Sam?” I look down. Sophia had followed me. I had thought there was nothing more to be said and walked away. Yet she looked troubled, which was odd for her.

“Yes?”

“Are we monsters?”

What? Why would she think that... Oh, I bet ‘Rainbow’ called me that. She’s a horse… And horses don’t hunt other animals for food. My gauntlet-covered hand hits my face, harder than I had intended. Yea, that was a major Faux Pas. Nice going Samuel.

“No. We do what we must to survive. There is nothing monstrous about that.”

“Alright then.” She doesn't look all that convinced. Damn it, where’s Rodin when you need him?

“Captain!”

One of the Healers is calling me?

“Yes, Healer, what is it?”

“The patrols all got back in. We've got another six hospitalized due to wolf attacks, but they brought back a trussed up wolf, and a live deer.”

Well that’s mixed news if I ever heard it. The Healer, however, is still talking.

“We've already used up the deer, as a result, Everblaze and Mender are well on the road to recovery. It will still take weeks before they can so much as get out of bed, barring more sacrifices.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Do you know where they took the wolf?”

“I think it’s still in the gatehouse.”

“Thank you. You’re dismissed.” Technically, he doesn't answer to me, but he seemed to be expecting a dismissal. As it is, he jogged back to the hospital, probably anxious to leave his patients for too long.

I head to the gatehouse, trying to decide what I’m going to do with a wooden wolf as a prisoner.

I don’t get long to ponder it, the gatehouse wasn't that far away. Entering the gatehouse, I approach the crowd of guards in the far corner of the room.

I rudely push my way to the front.

Dozens of ropes hold the wolves’ legs tight against its side, and someone has constructed a makeshift muzzle for the beast as well. Its eyes are like tiny green fires in otherwise empty wooden sockets, and they roam wildly, likely looking for an escape. Up close, you can see the abnormal green sheen between the gaps of the wood. I’d bet that’s the magic holding it together.

I've seen these wolves in action, this one is struggling, but nowhere near as much as it should. Its… sluggish. Like it’s fighting through an ocean of syrup. Its making noises too. Reminds me of a sick dog, though these creatures have been reported to seemingly not even have a real ability to feel pain.

Whatever the reason, it’s not escaping anytime soon in this condition. “I want a 24 hour guard on it. Nobody touches it. We wait for Rodin to examine it, and I want it alive to make that appointment.”

Derik must be in the crowd, as I can hear him start assigning shifts to watch the monster.

Chapter 6: The Calm

Rodin Everblaze/James Mender

I remember.

I remember… everything! From both of my memories!

I still can’t believe I was holding out on me.

Hells, both of me were!

If I didn't find it so funny, I’d be furious! I mean, really, all this time I could have been working together with me. Stupid Guilds and their stupid superstitions... There’s so much to be learned from the joint theories of-

Wait.

This is too much. I can’t be both of me. This is not sustainable; there needs to be a separation between me and I!

Perhaps if I…

…

… Did it work? We think so.

Yet we still have access to the memories of each other. We still feel the every thought of the other, every emotion, every heartbeat…

It’s still not enough; we’re still in danger of losing ourselves to the Us. We can’t be merged this closely for long, it’ll be irreversible soon!

We must loosen the connection!

…

Gods dammit James! I can’t believe you! This is the sort of stunt I pull!

If I hadn't you’d be dead, Ronin. And thanks to one of your little secrets, if you die, we all die. When were you planning on telling us about that, hmmm?

Stow it, James, you've been keeping secrets too.

At least my secrets don’t endanger literally all of humanity!

I have it perfectly under control. And even if it turns out that I don’t, by that point I won’t care anymore. I’ll be dead.

Then what about Sophia! You’d kill her too!
…

I guess I’ll just exercise whatever foresight is necessary to not die around her then.

You are impossible. I can’t believe I risked my sanity and my life to save your sorry ass.

Hey, you risked my sanity too.

Don’t start with me. We still have a long road to recovery, and I can’t sense what’s going on around us. Can you?

… No. Did you see what it was I ended up summoning?

No, I just hope it didn't kill too many before it was subdued.

Oh come on, it’s an herbivore, what could it possibly do?

… See, now you’re being stupid on purpose.

Since when was this news?

…

Whoa. Was that what I think it was?

Yep. Hayley and Devin pulled through for us.

This feels… great!

Don’t let it get to your head. Soon enough they’ll get more sacrifices, and then I can untangle us completely.

Are you sure you want to?

…Do you really want my running commentary on your every action and thought for the rest of our lives?

Well, when you put it that way…

Trust me. It’s going to be a relief to get you out of my head too.

The sooner the better if you ask me. Besides, it will be easier to enjoy my winnings if I don’t have to hear you complain about it.

Seriously? You’re going to hold me to that after I saved your life?

As far as I’m concerned you’re the one who endangered it in the first place, so, yeah. Twelve days. Hop to it!

I’m a little tied up at the moment… Asshole.

I’m a patient man, I can wait.

You’re such a liar, Ronin.

It’s true, I am.

…

It’s starting. They must have found more sacrifices.

So we’ll wake up now? I should know, but my memories of your memories are fading…

Mine too. Don’t worry about it, just focus on keeping your Self intact while I use what they've given me to separate us again. We’ll wake up momentarily.

Got it. Do your thing, I’m ready.

Shut up, I need to concentrate.

Rainbow Dash

I’m following the armored ones from a discrete distance.

They carry nets, and I can see the animals they have inside them. A family of rabbits in one, a deer tangled in another…

Fluttershy would go ballistic if she saw this…

I can’t just let them die… but, these humans are predators, I can’t steal their food either…

The ones with the nets enter the building I was summoned in, and disappear from sight.

I’m… curious. Why are they being taken here? I thought they were going to eat them…

There’s an armored one guarding the door, but he doesn't stop me from poking my head in and watching.

There are beds everywhere, and there are more humans on most of them. One of the armored ones is bleeding heavily from a cut in his shoulder.

I watch as he’s tended to by a mare, wrapping the wound, after applying some kind of salve. She holds his head for a moment, before he relaxes, asleep.

How did she do that? Do they have a pressure point in their head or something?

The frantic noises of the deer recaptures my attention, him and the rabbit family have been hauled over between two beds where a stallion is inspecting them.

The mare joins them, and obscures my view. I can’t see them through the crowd, but I really don’t want to get any closer if they’re about to start killing in here.

Everyone suddenly got really quiet.

The animals even stop making noise.

“Whatcha doing Rainbow Dash?”

“Gahh!” I jump, barely missing the door frame as I take to the air outside. Below me I see Sophia, Who else could it have been? “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry.” She doesn't sound sorry. “What were you lookin at?”

“They brought a bunch of animals in there.”

Immediately she brightens up. “Really! That’s great! That means daddy’s gonna get better soon!”

I fail to see how she came to that conclusion. “How does that make any sense? What are they doing to those rabbits and that deer?”

Her answer feels like a kick to the gut.

“They’re going to sacrifice them, silly.”

I stare at her. They aren't eating them? My mind works furiously, re-evaluating what I've seen in this new light.

So, they’re not some kind of predator, they’re some sort of freaky discordant cult? Oh Celestia, what if these humans and their sacrifices are what brought discord to power all those years ago!

I am suddenly very keenly aware of exactly how many armed humans are within a stone’s throw of me.

… And they wanted me to help them. And I refused. I eye the door-guard warily. How long before they decide I’m a good sacrifice too? Horsefeathers. I’m the Element of Loyalty, I’d make the best sacrifice to past-Discord!

“I-I gotta go. See you around Sophia.”

I fly off before she can so much as answer.

Gaining a little altitude, I circle the human’s death-camp as I try to figure out a piece of the puzzle that eludes me.

This place is so familiar… But I can’t put my hoof on it. Those walls, the ones nearly as tall as I am, that keep ponies from wandering into the ravine, I know I’ve never seen them before… but those two towers… They’re so familiar for some reason.

Deciding to investigate, I land on the tower closest to their bridge and examine it. The floor is made of stone. A few marks of discoloration show where furniture must have rested a long time ago.

There’s a lot of dust, but it’s been recently disturbed. It looks like there might have been more floors to the tower, but they must have fallen, or been demolished. The walls that remain have that ‘broken’ look to their tops.

I hop up on the wall and spread my wings to help balance.

I can see the Forest of Watchful Shade easily from here.

I frown. No. That’s definitely the Everfree. The similarities are too uncanny, there’s no other forest like this. It must just have had a different name in the past.

My eyes drift across the landscape.

So if this is the Everfree… what does that tell me about where I am?

My eyes drift across the ceiling-less building below me. I’m surprised to see a live timber wolf tied up in a corner, with a number of armored ones watching over it.

How have I not seen or heard of this before now?

From there my eyes make a short jump to the object taking up the center of the building, a stone sphere with five little arms fanning out from it. It reminds me of…

No way…

In somewhat of a daze I glide down from the top of the tower, circling the object that used to hold the Elements of Harmony.

Who cares about the timberwolf? I just realized where I am.

Which means…

I trot out the front gate, hardly noticing the guards that give me funny looks.

I approach the edge of the ravine, peering over the edge. Through some light mist, I can see the remnants of the old rope bridge that my friends had used to cross, now broken and twisted on the sharp rocks at the bottom.

At the bottom. Which means I can’t be in the past!

I look up, seeing the road that we used to get here. Even with the trees and bushes growing in the middle of it, I recognize the path. My memory tells me every twist and turn, so I take to the air and immediately begin following those memories from the sky.

This is going to work!

I’m going to go home!

I can’t believe I ever thought this was the past!

Twilight is so going to go crazy when she hears about this.

Ronin Everblaze

I open my eyes.

The ceiling of the Healer’s building greets my gaze, accompanied by the telling aroma of disinfectant.

It’s sad that I recognize this place by the shape of its roof.

I feel jittery, and pull myself into a sitting position. To my left James’s apprentices stand, relief on their faces.

“It worked! He’s awake!”

I fight the urge to jump out of bed and run around the castle a few times. “More than awake, I feel like I could go toe to toe with an ogre. I think you used too much! How long was I out?” I begin unraveling the bandages that cover… most of me. Underneath is healthy pink skin, no sign of any injury.

Yeah, they definitely went overboard with it.

“It’s been nearly a full week.” I hear Captain Weather’s voice call out from the doorway. He sounds tired, which is rare for him. Something must be wrong.

I hop out of bed, take two steps, and pause. Where is my staff?

“Hey, somebody fetch me my staff.” The younger apprentice scurries off somewhere. Good. It is best if I have it with me at all times.

“You know, you ought to get rid of that thing. It makes you look like an old man, leaning on a walking stick.”

Ah. James is awake too.

“I see you managed to survive your little trick.” I look at him, warning him with my eyes to keep his mouth shut about what he knows.

He waves dismissively at me. “There was never any doubt. I am master rank, after all.”

“What you did was still highly dangerous.”

“What exactly did you do, master? It felt like you had bound your spirit to his,” the older apprentice asks.

“It’s not something you’re ready to understand yet, let alone attempt, Hayley. Don’t worry about it.”

The other apprentice returns with my staff, which I inspect for any damage. Thankfully, it seems to have survived the summoning mishap with merely some superficial damage.

Speaking of my summoning…

“So what was it that I summoned?”

The Captain fields this one, “It was some kind of winged horse; she identified herself as a ‘Pegasus’, and spoke a language nobody could understand, save for your daughter. She’s likely with the creature now.”

“Well then. I’d like to meet her.”

Weathers looks like he has other things he wants me to do, but agrees, and we begin searching for Sophia and the sentient horse.

Samuel Weathers

We didn't find Rainbow.

Nobody knew where she was. Eventually one of the guards reported her flying into the Forest, and nobody had spotted her since.

Sophia didn't want to talk about her much. I suspect they had some sort of falling out.

Ronin looked disappointed, but followed my lead, and started down the incredibly long list of magical needs we had accumulated over his week in the hospital.

Right now I stand in his tower, listening as he tells me what he can of the magical plants and animals Sophia had identified coming in from the forest patrols.

“This one looks like all it does is glow in the dark,” he says, setting down an orange flower and resting his glowing gaze upon the dead chicken-lizard hybrid.

“This one has a great deal of nature magic infused in it, but focused heavily in the eyes… Either it has amazing vision, or it can do magical things by looking at stuff.”

I frown. That sounds dangerous. The fact that it had died from an arrow to the back of its head makes me feel that the hunter got very lucky he had the drop on it, rather than vice-versa.

“Is it edible?”

“It might be. I’m not sure how magically infused flesh of this kind would treat the stomach. It might be harmless, it might turn you into one of them. There’s nothing for it but experimentation!”

“No. We don’t need more casualties.” That, and the thing has had a whole week to rot in this tower, It might just kill you anyway if you eat it.

“Spoilsport. What’s next?”

I drop a bag at his feet with a loud *Clang!* and open it to reveal that it is filled with axes.

“Have you heard we’re going to war? I’m going to need these enchanted. Preferably with fire, as our opponents are made entirely out of magic and wood. We have one tied up in the gatehouse for you to examine, by the way.”

Ronin stares at me, and then grins. I know that grin. I’m not going to like this, am I?

Sophia Everblaze

“Remarkable.” Daddy says.

We’re in the gatehouse with the mean old wolf thing. Daddy’s looking at the wolf with his magic-eyes, and circling it.

I was really happy to see daddy awake again, but Sam has him working now, so I didn't get to hug him for very long.

Now though, daddy says he’s going to teach me something! I can’t wait, it’s been a long time since I got to learn anything new…

“It’s a construct. Not one of those monstrosities where you bind a spirit to an object, but pure nature magic, given directive.”

Sam looks confused. “What does that mean for us?”

Daddy laughs. “It means we’re in for it now! If I’m right, these things sustain themselves by taking in the ambient magic of the forest itself, but they were created. Created by something, or someone. Making these costs them as little as enchanting an axe costs me, so if it’s to be war…”

“The winner will be whoever can step up production the most,” Sam finishes for him.

“That, and each death on our side is an irrevocable loss to us, whereas each of theirs will be a mere setback of resources. In short, this sucks. But hey, if the point is to step up production, I have the solution right here.” Daddy looks at me.

Why is he looking at me?

Sam sighs. “Alright, if you have this handled, I need to check up on the new recruits.”

Daddy looks at Sam, bewildered. “New recruits?”

“Yes. We went recruiting while you were out. We’ll have another four squads if Bill does a good job with them.”

“Well that should increase our odds.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sam says, heading out the front gate, accompanied by most of the guards.

I tug on daddy’s robe. “So when am I going to learn the new thing?”

“Right now, darling.” He cracks his knuckles and fetches the bag of axes in from a guard and motions me to follow him to an empty corner of the gatehouse.

“Alright. Watch, listen and learn,” he says, removing an axe from the bag. “When enchanting the first thing you have to do is select a rune, in this case, Fire. For this particular weapon we place the rune on the axe head, one on each side.” As he speaks, his fingers draw the runes, glimmering red energy marking where his fingers touched the metal.

I nod, that’s exactly what I had tried earlier.

“Now, the trick is to fill the runes up with magic, but to hold back the tiniest bit; just enough to keep the spell from completing prematurely. Then you take that tiny bit of magic, and you bind it to the blade of the weapon.” He pinches the blade of the axe between two fingers and slides them along its length, leaving behind his glowing red aura.

When he is done, the red glow flares, and then vanishes, revealing what appears to be a normal axe. “When the axe strikes something, the magic on the blade will draw from the magic in the runes and burn the target with fire.”

“How do we know if it worked?” I ask.

Daddy grins. I know that grin. He’s about to do something fun!

I follow him eagerly as he stands up and approaches one of the guards by the wolf. “Would you like to do the honors or should I?”

The guard’s eyes flicker towards the gate that Sam had left through. “No thank you, sir.”

“Fair enough.” With no more warning than that, daddy swings the axe in an overhead arc, sinking it deep into the wooden hide of the wolf. The glowing red runes appear on the axe again, briefly, before the entire wolf bursts into flames.

I take an involuntary step backwards, as do the guards. The heat can be felt from several feet away.

When the flames die out, there is nothing left of the wolf, or its restraints, other than a pile of black char.

Daddy is looking at the axe critically with his glowing red eyes. “I’d say it has about three of those in it, before it starts noticeably fading in power.”

One of the guards is eyeing the axe nervously. “Y-Yes sir.”

Daddy looks mischievously at the guard who answered him. “Saaay, now that you aren't guarding anything, be a dear and fetch me a bunch of arrows, would you? A few hundred should do for starters.”

I giggle, “Are you going to teach me to do arrows too, daddy?”

He holds up a placating hand. “First let me see you do an axe correctly. Then we’ll talk.”

I can feel my smile being replaced with a look of fierce determination to prove myself. Returning to the pile of axes, I glare at one as I haul it over to the enchanting corner.

Alright, axe, lets see if you can handle Round Two!

Chapter 7: The Storm

Herbert Senthson

It’s finally over.

The endless exercises, the combat drills, the late nights and early mornings, the bruises, the insults, the daily dose of that vile liquid the Healers try to pass off as “medicine”… hell week is finally over. I am now part of the Guard.

I can’t shake the feeling that hell week wasn’t enough.

Bill finally judged us “good enough” but I don’t feel ready for this at all. The armor is finally starting to feel like it belongs on my skin, after wearing it for so long, I’d hope so, but whatever stealth I could claim as a hunter is ruined by these clanking slabs of metal.

I have a new bow again. I had lovingly crafted my own bow before the world ended, but it was left behind. I had a civilian-issue one before now, which I had grown accustomed to as well. Yet now, ready in my hand, is a beast of a weapon. Powerful, yet limber, I have no clue how the Forges managed to construct this, but I’ve spent the last week growing used to it. I actually did so well that I wasn’t even issued a shield for this engagement; I’m one of the squad’s two designated archers.

My skill with the bow is more than average, even I’ll admit, but am I ready for the chaos of combat? I do not believe I am. Compared to the Captain, or any of the old Guard, I’m as green as grass.

Yet here I stand, waiting for the platoon leader to finish the inspection and armament so we can head out to my first battle.

“Alright men, and I hesitate to call you that, it’s time pass out the axes. Make sure they’re secure on your harnesses, using both straps, and don’t even think about testing them on anything that isn’t an enemy. How many charges do you get?”

“Only three, sir,” my entire squad chants in unison.

“And when do we get to use the pretty axes?”

“Only when ordered to, sir!”

“Excellent. Present. Arms!”

Four of my squad mates draw their large maces and present their shields for inspection. I spare a glance at them with a spark of envy. With the shield in front, and this new plate-style armor, not much would be injuring my four brothers-in-arms. To preserve the accuracy of our arrows, me and Melvin over here, not only weren’t issued shields, but our armor is thinner, lighter, and missing pieces near the joints.

I’m not exactly complaining, but I would feel safer were I decked out in what almost resembles plate-armor.

I’m not going to even think about where the forges are getting the raw-materials for all of this.

The platoon leader continued to yell at us for a while… I’m not sure why, but I get the feeling he’s showing off for the Sergeant. It seems pointless to me… He’s not getting a promotion anytime soon unless one of the existing Sergeants buys the farm. The hierarchy was simple, and drilled into us for days on end; The Captain is on top, jump the cliff if he orders you to; the three Sergeants are under him, and they can take over your squad at a moment’s notice; the platoon leaders lead their squads directly, and make the decisions when you’re in a tight spot. Ten, six-soldier squads make up the rest of us, now that we’ve been trained.

Simple.

So why so much yelling?

Oh, wait, he’s saying something important.

“-o form ranks! Double-time it to the bridge, the Governor’s going to speak to us before we head out.”

Great. More speeches.

I maintained formation as we marched up the stairs, not daring to voice my opinion on the speeches our wonderful Governor gives. The pig.

Perhaps I’m just bitter over how he’s sending us to our deaths with a smile and a wave, yet isn’t going to be in the engagement at all.

Hell, even Mender is going out there with us, with an accompanying squad, of course, acting as our field medic.

So, I barely listen as he drones on about duty, and justice and how proud he is of the sacrifice we’re making and on, and on, and on… well screw him, I’m doing this for revenge, and for the wolf-like abominations that need putting down.

Finally, he’s done.

I can see Rodin crouching over by the bridge, doing something to it with his daughter. I wonder what it is…

“Move out!” comes the voice of our Captain, provoking an almost instinctual spark of movement in my limbs as our little army begins crossing the bridge.

As my squad jumps up on the re-enforced wooden bridge, I notice a series of carvings pass beneath my feet.

I suppress a shiver as my boots tread on them in passing.

Runes. Who knows what they do… I’m just glad they’re on our side.

Sophia Everblaze

“But I want to help fight!” I whine.

“Sophia Everblaze, NO. For the last time, you are far too young!” daddy isn’t giving in… He seems sort of mad.

“But...” I think franticly, trying to find the words that will let me come with. Sadly, the words to not come to me. “I want to help…” I finish lamely.

Daddy’s hard eyes soften a little. “You can help, by staying here. I can’t be thinking of your safety in the middle of the fight, and someone needs to stay here and guard the castle.”

I pout; finally accepting, a little, that he isn’t going to yield. “How do I do that then?”

He crouches next to me near the bridge and begins carving runes in it. I recognize a few of them, but most are ones he won’t let me learn yet. He is quiet for a long time, deep in thought as he works.

“Ok, Sophi, see these? If trouble comes calling, fill these runes with magic and let Rune Calling do the rest, ok?”

“Alright,” I say, reaching for the runes to see what they do.

He grabs my wrist.

“Sophi, I’m serious, don’t so much as touch them unless something tries to threaten the village.”

I frown. Are the runes really that dangerous?

“Okay,” I tell him, disappointed a little.

“Move out!” I hear Sam yell, and daddy hustles me out of the way as all our soldiers cross the bridge.

They look really cool, their armor all shiny and reflecting the sun. I watch as they disappear into the forest, the sounds they make dissipating slowly into silence.

It’s not fair.

I got to help all last week, enchanting axe, after axe… I had lost count of how many I did… and it got really tiring. Thanks to James I was able to keep going though.

See, he gave me this really sweet-tasting medicine that made me feel like I had slept all day and all night, and just eaten a real big pile of sweets! I had plenty of magic to spare then!

Daddy got to drink the medicine too, and was enchanting tons more than I could… I think he even did some armor as well as the arrows.

We did tons of arrows. Daddy showed me how after I did my first ten axes in a row without messing up and making all that fire.

James said that I don’t get to take the medicine anymore though… I don’t know why, I really liked it. It reminded me of sweets!

I miss sweets.

We can’t make them anymore, now that we’re here, and Daddy made me promise to stop summoning them once he caught me doing it. I wasn’t getting that many!

*sigh*

I look at the forest.

As much as I had wanted to go and help, I really wasn’t looking forward to going in there. That place still scares me.

I’ve seen guards come back out of it bleeding red all over the place!

Another one came back a few weeks ago, turned to stone! Now we have two of the Guard-statues in the hospital. Mender said they’re still alive though. I didn’t understand his explanation, but I think Daddy did.

I look at the forest warily, keenly aware that there are no more guards left to help me. I don’t want to be turned to stone. It doesn’t sound like much fun.

I hear the sound of many feet behind me, coming from the gatehouse.

It’s the cooks!

“Hi there!” I call to them, and they respond with smiles on their faces.

“Hey there Sophia, what are you doing out here?”

I grin with pride, “I’m guarding the bridge! Daddy showed me how!”

Now I can see more of the women coming from the gatehouse. Many of them have cooking knives, and a few even have short bows.

I’m not sure what they’re doing with weapons. Oooh, do they secretly try archery too? Maybe they’ll teach me!

I approach the head cook, pulling on the animal-skin dress we all wear nowadays. “Miss Fletcher, why do they have bows?”

She smiles at me. “Well, the men are away, leaving only a 10-year-old mage to protect the camp! Can’t have that! We’re here to help you guard our home!”

“Alright, ladies, lets form a perimeter. Eyes on the creepy forest; don’t want to be caught by it unawares, now do we?” The loud, take-charge voice belonged to Miss Weathers, and she seemed to hold her bow and quiver like she knew how to use them.

I’ve never seen the women guard the camp before! This is awesome!

Vern Leonard

It took some getting used to, not being alone in my head.

Sure, I was trained to be used to it, but it’s been such a long time since the Captain ordered these out that it was taking me a bit of time to reacquaint myself with it.

Two by five squad sweep, keep each squad in sight of its brothers. Keep everyone on their toes.

Yes sir. I reply. In the corners of my vision, series of runes inside my helmet light up as I exchange thoughts with the Captain.

This helmet is so weird.

They’re quite useful though, you can’t deny it.

I swallow nervously. It’s too easy to accidentally trigger the thing.

Indeed I cannot, sir.

“Alright, squad leaders we’re doing a staggered sweep, I want a tight formation, but distance between the squads.”

They scurry to take my relayed orders.

“Keep your eyes peeled, and engage and call out any wolves you see. Neutralize any hostile wildlife. Priority is minimum casualties, you know the drill! Move out!”

I can faintly hear my counterparts giving similar orders to their own squads. In short order we’re moving orderly through the forest, thorns scraping across metal plating, and bushes being trampled underfoot.

It doesn’t take long before a shout is echoed by the sound of bowstrings and splintering wood. From my right-most squad.

I shift my own closer to theirs, ready to lend aid, “Squad 4, report!”

“Threat neutralized!” comes the reply through the trees, “No casualties, three wolves down.”

I quickly send the report through the helmet, and receive a reply.

Good. Derik’s squad took down a few as well. Maintain the march.

Yes sir.

I watch my men with an approving eye as we make our way through this horrible forest. My squad is rather standard, with four decked out for melee combat and two of them wielding bows and loaded with both enchanted and un-enchanted arrows.

It’s not a lot, but a dozen feet to the right and a few paces behind us is another of my squads. My last is not much farther, but the foliage is so thick… I can’t even spot them.

Our long, northwestern march is not punctuated with ambushes like we had expected. Instead we’re treated to the sound of distant howls.

The wolves know we’re here, it’s only a matter of time before they strike us.

For a time, the howls ceased.

Then they crashed upon us.

One of my archers saw them first, and shouted his sighting even as he drew and loosed a rather ineffectual arrow. I could practically read his thoughts as his fingers brushed the enchanted stock before grabbing normal one. Good. This one remembers and obeys orders.

I thought Bill had done a good job with these ones, but now they got to be put to the test.

From the trees sprint half a dozen wooden monstrosities that lunged at my line of iron. They took the charge on their shields and repaid them with swings of their maces. Wood splintered under the metal, and green eyes flickered out as the monster’s magic failed.

I don’t understand why it works, but crushing what passes for their ribs with something heavy seems to kill them rather quickly. I don’t need to understand it to use it though.

I join the melee, swinging my own mace to crush the head of a wolf that had tried to flank us.

Requesting permission to use fire arrows! I ask the Captain, blocking a swipe of wooden claws with my shield as I do so.

I can hear the screech of metal and shouts of pain and anger, signaling that the other squads engaged with their own problems.

One of my archers is engaged in melee.

I use my shield to knock my wolf’s teeth loose, and disengage, opting to kill the one assaulting my more fragile allies instead.

A few more moments of intense fighting, and our opponents lie broken, their bodies so much scattered wood and spent magic.

Most of my squad sports only bruises and a few scrapes, though my archer bleeds from his side, it is not deep. One bandage later and he seems fine. My other squads report numerous slight injuries, and one broken leg.

We’re alive and well, only one major injury. Sending him to Mender now.

Mender has been alerted.

I send my injured archer to collect the man with the broken leg and take him to the Captain’s squads. That is where he should find the Healer, at the most heavily guarded part of the formation.

As our march continues onwards, I realize I have yet to receive an answer from the captain…

Sir? Flame arrows?

One long moment later, he replies.

No. We wait. Vern, I want Squad 4 to join the center and guard Mender as he works. Tighten the spread as well, I want squads to be close enough to rush to each other’s aid. I want you on our flank, keep an eye peeled in that direction.

I’m in the middle of rearranging the squads when we are struck from behind.

From the forest behind us, arrives two monstrosities almost as tall as the trees. Their forearms are nearly thick enough to be trees, at least. Hell, I’m pretty sure it’s wearing young pine-trees as armor.

It’s an utterly massive version of what we’ve been fighting so far, and it wants our blood.

My squads react near-instantly, coming about to present a solid wall of metal and flesh between the monsters and the archers.

It’s the wrong idea.

“SCATTER!”

My soldiers obey, ducking behind trees and putting distance between each other. If they’ve remembered their training, they’ll be keeping an eye on each other’s positions and start hounding the things with timed strikes from multiple directions.

It’s too late for some of them.

Already two of the guards I was standing next to lie broken, pounced upon by a creature that likely weighs more than our whole squad put together. Our armor is… not strong enough to hold under that kind of pressure. It isn’t pretty.

I flee from the sight, ducking behind a tree before their burning eyes fixate on me. My only idea for hurting them is using fire; anything else would be mere pinpricks.

The tree I was hiding behind breaks nearly in half as a missed swipe lands on it. Damn. These things hit like golems! I abandon my shelter, and take the three steps necessary to swing my mace, denting the wood on one of its legs, but no more.

Quickly, I do my best to put some distance between me and them, before finding another hiding spot. A glance and a roar of frustration tells me my soldiers are doing something similar. It’s legs are now home to… what amounts to pinpricks.

At least, they’re being kept busy.

Where the hell are my archers? They haven’t used fire arrows yet? Damn. At least they follow orders.

permission to use fire arrows sir!

…

Nothing.

I am about to voice my opinion on his silence when his silence suddenly makes sense.

A stream of fire lances out from somewhere between the trees, catching the monstrous wolf square in the side.

I swear the thing had a surprised expression when the fire burst out the other side and washed over the second monster.

In short order the two beasts were nothing but piles of char amid the destruction.

The origin of our good fortune steps out from the shadows of the trees.

“Well that felt satisfying.”

I’ve never liked Rodin as much as this moment.

My mouth is open to emit words of thanks,

Permission to use fire arrows granted.

No sooner do I relay the order, than do I turn to behold Rodin, arms spread, facing the forest we’ve been trudging through for hours.

He gestures with his staff, and sets the forest on fire.

Rodin is providing environmental cover in the form of a forest fire. He says the fire will be incapable of burning us, but will still suck the air from your lungs. Tell the men not to venture too close if they can help it.

I know I should be gathering up my squad, but for a few moments, I can’t help but stand and watch as the fire spreads from tree to tree, blocking our route home… as well as reducing the possibility of further attacks from behind.

I’m glad he’s on our side…

Me too.

Samuel Weathers

The first true casualties finally rolled in with those giant-sized wolves.

Nine dead. The southernmost squad was completely eradicated; caught by surprise. I think Rodin took a perverse sort of pleasure in obliterating those two first.

We will honor the dead later.

For now, I focus upon my Sergeants, delivering further instructions.

My map says there’s a clearing just north of us. March there and secure the perimeter.

*Yes sir.*
*Yes sir.*
*Yes sir.*

Like lightning, their responses flash back nearly instantaneously.

It is good to have competent men under you, but ones that can take orders work just as well. Not that my sergeants aren’t competent.

In the distance we all can hear the howling. It sounds different this time… more… bloodthirsty.

The clearing is arrived at in short order, and James finally has both the time and the light to work with.

My sergeants are partitioning out the supplies of water and food we brought. There is no telling when we would have another peaceful moment in these woods, so we’re taking advantage of it while we can.

James has a small cart, being drawn by a couple of volunteers from the village. So far we had been able to protect them, and that was paying off now.

A hog-tied Deer was brought before him, and James got to work.

I never get tired of watching him heal my men. Wounds close, bones set, and limbs even re-grow themselves.

We've been capturing more animals, thanks to a trap one of the Guards had designed. We've been able to capture more than enough animals, and have been keeping the excess healthy, all in preparation for this sudden need.

Mender makes short work of our injured, and those with less pressing wounds cycle in from the perimeter for healing.

The process brightens my day.

Rodin’s fire enveloped half of the trees surrounding the clearing and stopped. I’m not sure how he controls it, but it doesn't seem to be straining him. Of course, he’s also been sipping one of Mender’s foul brews for a while now. I’m almost tempted to question him, but he knows his own limits.

If he does run out of juice at a critical moment however, I’ll kill him myself. For real this time.

For about a second, we’re standing in this clearing with nothing left to do. “That’s it men, pack up, we’re moving again.” I don’t have to use the helmet, everyone’s within shouting distance anyway. “Keep a tight formation. I want a three sides of a square formation, archers in the center. Flame arrows only, pick your shots. Rodin, keep the forest fire guarding our rear.”

Really, that was the most bizarre thing about all of this. Not the wooden wolves, nor the strange forest making us unsure of ourselves even now, it was the raging forest fire hanging back, like a loyal puppy, following Rodin’s every whim.

We continued on our heading, north by northwest.

By all accounts, the wolves have kept our patrols from going in this particular direction for weeks now. It was actually Governor Birchwood who picked out the pattern in my charts and schedules; yet another reason I respect the man.

If they were willing to fight to keep us away from here, that’s good evidence that our target lies in that direction.

I expected heavy resistance, and we got it. So far we've encountered more wolves in one wave than we've ever seen in one place, 53 if the reports are accurate, and encountered a new type of wolf as well.

It would seem Rodin was right about our opponent having cards up his sleeve.

It makes me glad we've been keeping our own aces hidden, so to speak.

The howling is getting closer, and as our formation of men makes its slow progress through the undergrowth, I hear shouts from the men, spotting targets in the trees.

I hear the sound of combat, and a Derik’s thoughts come through my helmet.

A dozen wolves engaged. Uhh, they’re different. These ones are blue. And they’re smaller than normal. Dammit! They’re quick!

Rodin walks next to me, he is doing his best to peer through both tree and man alike to see what is happening.

“Rodin, there’s a third kind now. Small and quick, Derik says they’re blue. Thoughts?”

He keeps trying to see, his eyes now emitting that red glow. “I’d say our friend has adapted to us. Changed his mold, so to speak. I’d wager a lot that the tactics of the new ones are better suited to fight us now, but I’d have to see them in action to be sure.”

The sounds of combat die, and a wave of cursing can be heard in the ensuing quiet.

Derik, report.

All enemies dead, most to flame arrows. They work as a team now, one pulling a shield or an arm out of the way while others strike for the vitals. I've got lots of small wounds and one critical.

I frown. This is really bad news. In these close quarters they need only send endless waves of these at us, and we’ll be slowly whittled away to nothing.

Send the critical one back and cycle the injured squads for fresh ones.

Thankfully we have enough men to give those a mite of rest. I don’t even want to think about what a disaster this would have been if we had attacked without Rodin or these extra bodies. Or Mender.

Hey, the foliage is getting sparser.

As we march, the forest seems to alter in composition, and all the bushes and weeds that have been choking our progress and our line of sight grow rarer and rarer to see.

The trees grow bigger, thicker, and taller. Here, the sun is more completely blocked from the forest floor here. With a literal forest fire at our backs though, we have more than enough light.

It's getting rockier too. Stones litter our steps, but it’s not that much of a hazard. What is important is that we, and therefore our archers, can see farther. The ground we traverse is growing noticeably more varied in elevation. This is becoming more hill-country than forest, yet the canopy high, high above still casts deep shadows, and that fear is still worming its way into our heads.

In the shadows beyond, even I, at the center of our force, can see the blue eyes watching from the far off trees.

In fact, reports start to come in.

Derik, Vern and Bill all thinking at me at once, giving rough estimates and counts of the number of wolves present.

At our back is a wall of flame we can’t feel, but is drawing a strong breeze of air, letting us know it is far more than an illusion. At our front and sides there is an army of blue eyes, each belonging to a wooden monstrosity.

Holy crap there’s a ton of them.

Tell them to break out the axes.

I turn to Rodin. “Hey Rodin.” He looks at me, nervous energy and sadistic anticipation easily seen in his eyes. “I’m setting you loose. Go kill all the wolves.”

He only smiles.

Rodin Everblaze

I exit the formation of guards, their faces showing confusion and fear both of me and for me as I get a little separated from them. I know that some of them think of me as a loose cannon.

It’s not an image I discourage. I enjoy my freedom.

I take out my waterskin, weighing it thoughtfully. It was still mostly full. Not of water, actually, but of one of James’s miraculous, yet foul brews. It was my second one today, but it was going to have to be my last.

I lean on my staff as I open the skin and start chugging its contents. My gag-reflex is triggered, but I choke the vile drought down.

One of the many, many things I learned from mine and his time unconscious together was this brew. I forgot what goes in it, but the effect is just short of too good to be true.

As the liquid pools in my stomach, I can feel my body getting simply charged with magic. Perhaps drinking the whole thing wasn't a good idea… Oh well.

I picture my favorite combination of runes in my head, and pour magic into them. As they vanish, I open my eyes to behold the effect.

Starting from my feet, and working its way up, I catch fire. In no time at all, little can be seen of my fireproof war-robe for the sheer volume of blue flames that envelop me. The waterskin is incinerated in less time than it takes to breathe.

I don’t feel the fire. Actually, I note the sudden absence of the chilling wind that’s been bothering me for a while. I love doing this.

I approach the wolves at a jog; my staff held in a battle ready stance, it’s engulfed in my fire as well.

As I get close, I can see them, these wolves are indeed smaller, but they also are better armored. There exists no gap in the flexible wood for an arrow to pierce the innards, and if the sheen of the wood is any indication, there’s some sort of protective magic at work as well. The eyes are interesting. The wolves I've seen before have sockets with burning green coals inside them. Even the monster sized ones were like this. These though, these are almost like lanterns, the socket replaced with wood that glows a bright blue.

Still. Differences aside, these wolves burn just as nicely as the others.

I blaze, a beacon of fire in the forest. I sweep my arm, and my flames erupt from it to engulf scores of the creatures.

Those that get too close to me combust from the heat I emit, so I charge head long into groups of them as I lob fireballs.

My laughter echoes above the roar of fire.

I lose track of time, Burn wolves, burn!

When I find myself again, I look immediately for my allies.

There, far off, still beating back the horde of blues. They’re showing them a curved front, my forest fire now guarding most of their flanks as well as their back.

I can feel myself approaching my limit, but I’m not there yet. Still quite a bit of fight left in me.

As I jog back towards my allies, I look around me. Piles of ash mark the graves of these cursed constructs.

I think I helped, but I’m not sure it was enough. Calling a series of runes to mind, beams of carefully controlled fire surgically lance from my outstretched staff to disintegrate the three dozen or so wolves between me and my allies.

I've bought them little more than moments, but they use it well, readying their weapons and their wills for another push forward. The piles of ash that surround them put mine to shame.

At least the axes worked well.

I eye the rest of their equipment. Shields are rent, most are bleeding from several wounds, all are having trouble breathing. I think they’ll be glad to get away from my air-sucking forest fire behind them.

Actually, I think it’s starting to run out of fuel, burning nothing but the same area for so long as it has been.

Do we still need it? I could probably-
*ROOOAAR!!*

Something either very large, very loud, or both lets out a very angry noise.

The wolves retreat, regrouping for what is obviously a charge with this new behemoth.

I’m not giving them the chance.

I head straight for the noise, the wolves I pass by igniting from the heat I emit. I’m really going to miss doing this.

I barely reach the horde before I spot the behemoth. A single, massive, blazing eye of orange fire dominates the head. Four limbs the thickness of elephants support a gargantuan body. Like the wolves, it appears to be made of wood, but with this one, living, writhing, strangely alive vines also make up its body.

I take a look at it with my rune-altered sight, hoping to glean some sort of weakness in the thing.

What I see stops me in my tracks.

Instead of the nature magic-analogue I expected, I see something foreign and bizarre. No less than five different kinds of magic shine from its body, and most of them don’t seem familiar in the least. I do recognize the nature magic, lashing out in tendrils to form more blue wolves each second.

My two eyes glance at its one, and I recognize the shard of divinity placed there. I guess some things are universal.

“An Immortal.” I whisper.

This is bad. This is very bad!

“Tremble and despair! I come to kill you myself, foul intruders!”

Wait just a moment...

I understand it... if it's the same as Sophia with that horse, than it should understand ME!

Trusting this jump of logic to be true, because, really, if it’s not I might as well jump under its massive foot and call it a nice life, my plan crystallizes in my mind.

I behold my staff. My constant companion. The fire-crystal set in its top has acted both as the focus for many of my spells, and as the main component of this crazy, insane plan, that I have always and never prepared for.

With a command word, my crystal shatters into six parts, the energy stored within, equally distributed among them.

Only one shard still remains bound to the staff.

The other five, I gather into my hand, and, two spells later, throw them speeding back towards my allies, embedding them into the shield of my Captain friend.

He’ll love this.

I then sprint for the Immortal, casting a spell to enhance my voice as I do so.

The monster is less than 200 feet away from me when I start shouting at it. “Truce! Truce and Parley! Humanity wishes to sue for peace!”

It ceases its charge, surprise clearly evident on its alien features as it beholds the tiny ant in front of it.

As I watch, the wolves stop circling, due to some unseen command, and turn the legion that is their eyes towards me as well.

I am reaching my limit, maintaining too many spells at once.

I cut the power feeding my flames, and the forest fire dies, winking out of existence.

There would be silence, if not for the creaking and writhing behemoth standing a mere dozen yards from me, eyeing me.

A voice comes from its throat, laden, not with rage as before, but oddly enough, curiosity. “You really are a strange race, now that I see you myself. Speak. And I will decide whether it is worth the effort to crush you like the insects you are.”

Author's Note

That one took a few thousand more words to tell than I'd thought it would.

It may not be readily apparent, but Rodin is not really as powerful as he may seem. It's a combination of an unsuspecting world, the finer details of his heritage, and how well his brand of magic lends itself to those who have time to prepare.

All will be explained in good time, though if some detail bothers you, leave a comment. I may have missed something.

Chapter 8: The Eye

Samuel Weathers

What in the name of all that is good does that mage think he’s doing?

Watching him go all-out had been as terrifying as it was inspiring. It had almost given me hope for a while.

The horde of wolves was never-ending, however.

I stand here, in possession of a slightly elevated view of the field, thanks to Mender’s cart. With one gauntleted hand I’m doing my best to pry some crystals out of my shield as I stare in wonderment.

The monster before us puts to shame anything we've seen so far. It also is apparently our objective; as I watch, more of the accursed wolves form from the fallen branches around it.

It spoke.

The sound was nothing compared to the cacophony that was its earlier roar, yet it rolled over our ears like thunder nonetheless. I understood none of it, yet like Rainbow's voice, I could almost mistake it for a man’s voice. If that man were the size of a small mountain.

I finally pry the first crystal loose, and raw information jackknifes its way into my head.

In an instant, I know what Rodin wants from me. Grasping the other four shards, I hurriedly work them loose from my shield.

Raising my voice, I speak so that all of my soldiers can hear me. “I need five volunteers for a suicide mission.”

Roughly a dozen hands rocket into the air.

Rainbow Dash

This fire is spitting in the face of everything I know as a weatherpony. It’s actually starting to make me mad!

Rain clouds, whirlwinds, nothing extinguishes it!

That isn't stopping most of us from trying, however. I was woken up for this! A forest fire in the Everfree, now that’s an emergency worthy of disrupting nap-time!

Smoke pollution and massive thermal aside, Ponyville is far too close to the Everfree to just ignore this. So I don’t exactly blame Cloud Kicker for waking me up for this.

If these dumb clouds would just-

Yet another cloud squirms out of my hooves and goes on its merry way.

“UGH!” I exclaim, disgusted with it all.

I’m tired, sweating so much I’m surprised that alone hasn't put out the fires below. The several dozen other pegasi with me are in no better condition. We've been trying to fight this fire for hours!

At long last I hear the voice I've been waiting for.

“Alright! *pant* *pant* I’m here! *pant* *pant* What’s the problem?”

I turn, hovering in place, to see Twilight finally arriving. She looks just as tired as I feel, and she just got here!

I really need to get her to work those wings more often, this is just silly.

My voice is scratchier than normal from all the heat and smoke, “Well Twilight, there’s a forest fire, in case you haven’t noticed.” I cough into my hoof. “But nothing we do works right! It’s as if that fire isn't even fire!”

She tries to respond but doesn't seem to be able to catch her breath.

I roll my eyes and round up a few others to help beat a small cloud into submission. Twilight is grateful for the place to rest, smiling her thanks at me.

I return the smile uneasily. It’s hard to just gloss over one of your friends not believing you about something important. But- Hayfeathers. Well, now I know how she felt at Shining Armor’s wedding.

But that doesn't matter right now. The fire down there does. “So what do you think?” I ask, waving my hoof in the direction of the inferno.

She takes a long look at it. Her horn glowing as she examines it with her magic as well. Her breathing slows as she recovers from her exertions too.

Eventually she answers me. “See how it’s not spreading beyond its borders, but burning what it does have really slowly?”

“Yea?” I’m no expert on forest fires, but that does seem odd.

“A real forest fire would be spreading really quickly, but this doesn't seem to be spreading at all. That alone indicates a fire magical in nature. But that raises more questions; who would start a magical fire? The lack of further spread indicates that only this area was desired to burn, but that makes no sense. Why would someone want to burn some random portion of the Everfree?”

I… don’t know. Could the humans have something to do with it. Wait, ‘The lack of further spread’?

“Actually Twilight, it has been spreading.” I gesture northwest into the distance. “But it hasn't been spreading in all directions, just sort of in a line, but that line is heading away from Ponyville, so why worry about it?”

Twilight looks surprised. “Well, without knowing more about what caused the fire, I’m not sure what I can do to help that you haven’t already tried. If I can watch how the fire spreads, I might be able to figure out what’s causing it, or work out a way to starve the magic at least. It has to be drawing power from something…”

“Alright then, lets get going!” I say, hooves crossed over my chest. “We won’t get there floating on a cloud, you know!”

She groans and spreads her wings, hesitating at the last second.

“You know that cloud is about to dissipate, right?”

Eyes wide in alarm, Twilight is airborne again in a matter of moments.

Chuckling to myself, I take the lead. If I’m careful, we might be able to catch some of the thermals the fire is giving off, to make this easier for Twilight.

It sort of works; we’re able to glide for as long as we can stand the heat and a little smoke. With the increase in altitude, however, more and more of the Everfree’s clouds hamper our vision, making it hard to see our destination.

After a few hours of flying, we can see the end of our bright and fiery trail, and it isn't moving forward. At all.

“Are you bucking kidding me?” Twilight doesn't sound happy to see that.

I for one, am not listening to her whining at the moment.

Another sound has caught my attention.

It sounds… like a sort of clanking, far off.

Trying to remember where I’ve heard it before, I’m reminded of memories of busy streets, and stuck up nobles.

Canterlot… The Guard! It sounds like combat practice, the sound of metal hitting stuff!

Twilight’s voice calls out to me from somewhere above me. I guess I’ve been spiraling downwards.

The sound is getting louder as I approach the ground where the fires stops. “What was that?” I call back up to her.

I can hear her faint cry of frustration, before she dives and levels off close to me. “I said-”

She gets no farther before she is rudely interrupted.

*ROOOAAR!!*

A blast of sound stuns us both, and we drop like stones.

I recover first, then saving Twilight from what would likely have been a long stay in the Ponyville Hospital’s Burn Ward.

“What was that?” I ask.

The question seems to bring her to her senses. “Probably whatever started the fire. Let’s go find it.”

That sounds like a good plan. Thankfully, the thunder of giant hoof-falls and the sight of trees crashing down to make way for something big made whatever it was really, really easy to find.

Quickly, we fly below the upper canopy of the Everfree, alighting on some of the higher branches of the trees as we looked on at the scene below.

My first thoughts are fueled by many surprises, each one following on the hooves of another. Wow. The ground is really far away. These trees are really tall! That monster is HUGE! Are those Timberwolves down there?! Why are there so many of them? I mistook them for the forest floor! We must be really deep in the Everfree, because I don’t remember seeing stuff like this before. Are those Humans over there? Horseapples, that monster is HUGE!

Herbert Senthson

For the first time in… I don’t know how many days, I’m finally back to sneaking through this horrible forest without any armor on.

In one hand I clutch an orange shard, some strange magic filling my head with the knowledge I need to proceed.

Even now I can see the spell in my mind’s eye, the five shards forming the points of a massive diagram around the monster before us. The details elude me, but somehow I know my survival is unlikely.

I don’t even care anymore.

I’ve already felt my life-blood slipping through my own fingers once today. It was only through the grace of one James Mender that I still live to perform this final act.

It’s the least I can do for those who have already died today.

Ever since we came here, it’s been a hard life, but these wolves will kill us, either with those teeth, or through starvation.

What is five lives against hundreds?

I dart from tree to tree; the dark leathers of the padding under my armor letting me blend in with the shadows quite nicely.

My history as a hunter serves me well; my footfalls making almost no noise in the underbrush, a rather sharp contrast to the booming conversation taking place, some distance through the trees.

“We are strangers in a strange land, O great one! We seek only to carry on living! As for our intrusion, we beg of you to pardon our foolishness as we had no choice!”

I quickly loose interest, as the booming rumble that is his response is not one I understand. I pause in the shadow of a tree as I wait for the ground to stop shaking before continuing.

From the shard I hold, a flash of understanding rides up my arm and forces its way into my head. With perfect clarity, I know that one of the other shards is in position.

A few second later, two more flashes signal the arrival of two more.

As I continue my broad, curving path through the trees, my eyes are drawn to the scene this all is revolving around.

Our battle mage stands in a sea of wolves, their blue eyes fixated upon him as he speaks with the monster. I can see more and more of them forming from the undergrowth at the feet of the wooden monstrosity, this being all the proof I need to know that my sacrifice is truly called for.

In all honesty, I had expected some sort of humanoid witch to be at the center of the whole wolf problem. We’d have cut her and her pets up, burned her spellbooks in a bonfire and have called it a day.

Instead I’m looking at what might as well be a forest god, furious at us if its voice is any indication.

Perhaps it has something to do with the whole ‘forest fire’ thing?

I can sense that I’m getting closer to my target, and the shard in my hand lets me know the fourth shard is in position.

I’m the last one left to go.

Peering between the trees, I have to suppress a curse under my breath.

My destination seems to be a sphere about two meters wide, suffusing its surroundings with a light red color. Instinctively, I realize this is visible only to my own eyes.

The problem lies in the wolf standing not even three paces from my destination.

It’s back is turned, but what passes for its ears are perked up, waiting attentively for some signal.

It is monstrous, easily the size of the monsters that attacked us from behind and wiped out the next squad over from mine.

I know I’m no match for it in a fight, and even I’m not foolish enough to believe I can sneak up on an alert, attentive, wolf-like construct.

On the verge of despair, not for my life but for the failure of my mission, I realize that the target sphere overlaps, ever so slightly, with the trunk of a nearby tree.

Do I have to be in the sphere, or is it just the shard?

I receive no answers.

Backing off a dozen paces, I unload my pack and re-string my bow as silently as I can.

Taking out a length of rope, and one of my many remaining un-enchanted arrows, I look critically at the shard in my hand.

I really hope this is as good of an idea as I think it is.

Rodin Eveblaze

It’s a long shot and I know it.

“We are strangers in a strange land, O great one! We seek only to carry on living! As for our intrusion, we beg of you to pardon our foolishness as we had no choice!” I shout, hoping my words are well received.

The behemoth grumbles. I don’t think it’s satisfied.

“Strangers you say? How do I know you are not spies from the pony goddesses? It would have been simple for your kind to slip across the border and occupy their old fortress!”

There’s so much I don’t know… can’t know about this world, but that means that they likely don’t know anything about us either.

“We serve no goddesses! Our lot was thrust upon us! We seek only survival and will do anything to preserve it! Can we perhaps aid you against your foes in return for your blessing to live in your forest?”

It’s single, massive eye roam over me, weighing me. It turns next to our little army, only just visible to me through the wreckage and char of the battlefield. Eventually it speaks.

“I will not take you so blindly on faith. There will be a test.”

My entire plan hinges on the Immortal in front of me being unable or unwilling to read my mind. If it’s unable, there’s no problem, I need only stall for time. If it’s only unwilling, however… I need to keep it that way.

“We long to prove ourselves! Whom might we bring down fire upon O great one?”

I suspect that I might be laying it on a little thick, but this guy is eating it up.

Returning its gaze upon me, the behemoth smiles. It’s a pretty freaky thing to see. It's worse up close.

“You will march east to the border between my domain and the domain of the pony goddesses. You will find a pony village, guarded by beings of power, gifted to them by their goddesses. Burn it to the ground. If you can do this, I will accept you as my servants, and see to it that no harm comes to your women and children.”

My blood runs cold. Not at his request, but at his choice of words.

If this thing has a gender, I'll eat my robe. Are the words for women and children so universal? Or did it pull the terms from my mind? Or is it some translation gimmick? I’d give a lot to know exactly how we’re communicating.

Thankfully, my mouth manages to keep working, the words rolling off my tongue like water. I’m running out of fuel, but I think I can drag this on for a bit longer.

“The village is as good as destroyed, great one! We will fall upon them as lightning from the sky! We only request to know your name, so that we might chant it as we slaughter your enemies!”

The alien smile of strangeness widens and a sound like boulders falling down a mountain comes from somewhere inside the thing. I think it was laughing.

“I am the Titan of the Everfree. You mortals may call me Timber.”

No sooner do the words leave the orifice it uses as a mouth than I feel the familiar thrum of power. All five points of the circle are now complete. The spell that had been suspended when I fragmented the crystal on my staff is finally reinstated, in an altered form, with the completion of the circle.

It now awaits only one of its two triggers to be unleashed.

I smile in spite of myself, feeling that I've all but won. One of those triggers happens to be my death.

I open my mouth to speak the other trigger.

I've been waiting to use this line for over twenty years!

“Well then, Timber, on behalf of Humanity, I ask you to BURN WITH ME!”

Power I could never hope to otherwise shape explodes from the crystal still embedded in my staff, red streams of energy radiating outwards, latching on to the other five shards somewhere through the trees.

I get a fraction of a second to see the priceless look of surprise on the monster’s face.

Then, all I can sense is my own fire.

Rainbow Dash

I’m totally ready to go smack Sophia’s dad a new one, but Twilight’s magic, and the knowledge that I would likely die mere seconds after doing so keep me at bay.

Twilight for one seems to be torn between terror and wonder, and she’s rooted to the spot.

I had gotten my montage of “I told you so! See! Humans! Right in front of you!” out of the way pretty early on, but then I realized the horror of the conversation going on in front of my own eyes.

I had remembered that Sophia seemed to think her dad would be able to speak with and understand me like she did, which makes this evil stallion her dad.

Still, something seems off. If this monster wanted Ponyville gone, why doesn't he do it himself? He looks powerful enough to wreck the town. I know I haven’t a clue how I’d go stopping him. I’d die trying though, not roll over and become his lap dog!

“Twilight!” I snap, still stuck in her magical grip, “We have to do something about this!”

That seemed to snap her out of her trance.

Her eyes were still pinpricks, and she looked moments away from a panic attack, but at least she was active again.

“You’re right! We have to report this! The princesses will know what to do!”

I nod, and we spread our wings, taking to the sky.

No sooner do we clear the canopy, than do we hear the human’s voice shouting; at once ecstatic and hateful, it’s enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“BURN WITH ME!”

Strangely, even though the rather solid obstacle that tree trunks are, I can see a diagram light up on the forest floor in a red glow.

Something about that voice and that red diagram captures my attention, even as we fly away. A five point star, surrounded by a circle of the same red glow, the image completes itself with a final point in the center brightening and reaching outwards, connecting with the corners of the star.

In a flash so bright I’m blinded through my rapidly closed eyelids, the whole thing sounds like it erupts into a rending avalanche of sound that deafens me as well

Unable to see, and with the Everfree wreaking havoc on my innate sense of direction, I’m having a whole lot of trouble flying!

I can feel the touch of Twilight’s magic, pointing me up a little, in what I hope is a climbing pattern.
A second later, what feels like a massive storm is thrown in my face, the wind doing its best to pull me back the way I came.

I’m not having any of that!

Wings pumping, and trusting Twilight’s guidance, we slowly make headway through the wind. It’s a vicious wind, fueled by a vacuum, if my senses aren't lying to me. There’s a reason nopony likes going into the Everfree.

Eventually we break free of the wind and just keep flying. I’m assuming Twilight can see since she hasn't crashed us yet, so I’m just trusting her to guide me.

Finally, I think I’m starting to get the use of my eyes and ears back.

I close my eyes, silently urging my sight to come back.

Being blinded, even temporarily, really hurt

Slowly I become more and more aware of the wind whistling as we fly through it, as well as a quiet roar of noise in the background.

Eventually, when I open my eyes, I find that I can see… adequately. Not a whole lot of detail there, but I can make out Twilight, flying in front of me. She glances back towards me, seeing my eyes track her, and starts descending.

I follow her, everything slowly getting clearer as we descend into a broad stretch of cleared forest.

My hooves set down on cool ashes, and the smell of burned things is strong enough to choke.

Is this the stretch the forest fire was burning?

Twilight doesn't seem to care about getting charcoal all over her coat; she’s collapsed on the ground, trying to recover from the exertion.

I’m glad she’s such a strong flier, that seemed to come with the wings, but she really needs to work on her endurance.

Its several moments before I break the silence. It’s odd, that the Everfree is this quiet.

“Twilight. What just happened?”

She turns her head to behold me. Now I can see her expression. It’s one of confusion and fear. “You didn't see it?”

I gesture towards my eyes. “I went blind and deaf for a bit there, actually. It really hurt.”

“I wasn't so lucky.” She turns to look back the way we've come, and I follow her gaze. Above the trees is a massive expanse of smoke, curling upwards like a mushroom cloud.

“A column of fire, the size of Ponyville, reaching up to the sky… like it was reaching for the sun,” she sounds hollow, as if she couldn't summon the energy to care. But then she grows quiet, her voice cracking, “And that monster… That thing that wanted the Humans to come kill us… It was screaming”

I never thought I’d say I was glad to be deaf.

Author's Note

Hark! It's the reason for the Dark tag!

Chapter 9: Aftermath and Consequences

Rodin Everblaze

I dreamed of my father.

It was actually more of a memory, but he kept referring to events that would happen later, that he couldn't have known about.

Things like the end of the world slowly encroaching on our homeland. He spoke of mother’s funeral, even though she outlived him.

Really though, the dream had centered on his gift to me, all those years ago, when I came of age.

He taught me the family rune, I got that lovely tattoo, and most surprising of all; a fire-crystal.

Grown in the lavish laboratories the guild owned in Noxin, the secrets surrounding their creation are as tightly kept as the stories about them are widely known. That he presented me with one was a sign of confidence that I would bring the family great honor with my work. Expensive does not begin to describe what my father had to do to obtain one. The fact that he and his father before him owned one didn't matter, considering his own brother never so much as got to touch one his whole life.

That crystal was the only keepsake brought with me, by virtue of it being part of my combat gear; I’d like to think that I used it well in the end.

Waking up to the sound and feel of your own flesh burning is not pleasant. Jolting to my feet, The first thing I notice is that my war-robe, the one immune to fire, was gone. I remember it literally being incinerated off of my body by the magic I unleashed. I’m standing around naked, save for the burning ash that coats my back.

I can practically feel my skin reddening from contact with the still-hot earth.

The ground I stand on is cracked and black, the life of the forest seems to be burned out of it for now. I imagine it will likely grow back, given time, but for the moment, heat still rises from it in waves.

I’m pretty sure the nerves in my feet have died by now, as I can no longer feel them burning.

The pain is intense, but I am alive. As I look around, I marvel at that simple fact.

The circle in which my spell was contained to is practically featureless, a blackened crater. Outside it the heat that leaked past the spell has singed several nearby bushes and smaller trees to nothing but stumps of charcoal.

Beyond that, the trees are healthy and green, as if nothing of consequence happened nearby.

“Good.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

The whole point of the circle was to contain and focus the energy into the circle, and away from my allies.

To all appearances, they survived and just left me for dead. Heh. I don’t blame them. I’m sure the gift of my line has never been tested to this extreme before.

But wait.

If I survived that… could Timber have as well?

My memory tells me nothing, all I saw, felt, tasted, heard or breathed was my own fire, until I fell unconscious.

Looking around, the only other feature in the crater is that ball of orange fire over there.

Ball of orange fire?

I stumble my way over to the oddity. As I get closer, the air seems to get heavier… Thick with some sort of magic.

I’m close enough now to see that it isn't a ball of orange fire, exactly… It’s a small glass sphere, the size of my head, and inside is a bright orange fire that I've seen somewhere before…

I poke the glass, and stumble backwards as waves of- recognition of the one who did this to him! Hatred for being reduced to such a state! The whole weight of my fury is directed at this puny- my finger slips from the glass, leaving me to stare at it in horror.

“How are you not dead!?”

That orange color, it’s the same color as that massive flame Timber had been using as an eyeball!

My mind flashes to my initial scan of the creature, and how the spark of it’s divinity seemed to be located in it’s eye.

What is this, Timber’s true form? An inert glass sphere?

I might have found it laughable were there not an incredible danger to this new fact.

If this little glass sphere could become that… thing. Then it can do it again.

I refuse to allow that to happen.

I approach the glass more cautiously this time. My finger traces a circle around it, careful not to touch the glass. Red energy spills from my finger, flowing into the small grooves I'm making in the burning hot ash. Three identical runes, at equidistant points along the circle, are traced with a steady finger, despite the pain.

This time, there are no fancy conditions or limiters in use. This must be done quickly and cleanly. Only Destruction is needed.

There is a reason I have refused to teach Creation and Destruction to Sophia. She is ten. What should, by all rights, belong solely to the gods, was gifted to us in the form of two elegant runes. They are not toys to be abused.

I snort at my own thought process.

Really, it’s just so that when you piss off the gods by abusing the power, they rain down lightning on your head, not the parent who’s supposed to be keeping you out of trouble.

It’s a simple rune. A simple spell. Everything inside the circle will be Destroyed, ceasing to exist in all senses of the phrase. The magic required has a tendency to increase exponentially with the area, but this is only a small circle.

In mere moments, the spell is complete, the glass orb, the orange fire, the black earth it had rested on , all winking out of existence, with a soft ‘pop’ as the air rushes to fill the space.

I resist the urge to fall back to the earth and relax. I’m still very much in danger of dying, baked alive by the residual heat of the biggest spell I've ever cast.

Now that would be an ironic way for an Everblaze to go. I laugh at the prospect. Can’t be killed by the heat of your own flames? Well have fun with the heat you get from touching what your flames heated. We will remember you fondly.

I suspect my injuries may be affecting my judgement, but I successfully manage to stumble outside of the radius of blackened earth, and on to the solid, blessedly cold dirt.

It is only as I move farther away from the crater that I am aware of just how clouded with smoke the air had been. I think I can see the sky now… aaand the sky is filled with smoke too.

I may not have thought this through as much as I should. What other secondary effects might there have been?

“Sir!” I turn, just in time to see some nameless soldier I don’t recognize walk out of the forest, hand over his eyes as he peers through the haze.

“What is it?” I ask, sort of upset that he’s here, though I can’t put my finger on why…

Oh! Right. I’m still very much naked. Why is my vision fading to black?

I don’t feel the impact as I hit the ground.

Herbert Senthson

I had shot the arrow, watched as it embedded itself in the tree and the crystal stayed attached to it, even as it started to softly glow.

I had paused, waiting for the wolf to notice, but it never did.

I’m not sure why, but, my task complete, I suddenly wanted to live. Whatever was about to go down, I didn't want to be there for it. I turned and sprinted, trying to put as much distance between me and the spell.

”BURN WITH ME!”

The world seemed to explode as I dove for cover behind a rather large fallen log.

I’m pretty sure something had knocked me unconscious, because the next thing I knew, the forest had started to dim; night seemed to be falling.

It was then that I got up; wandering back around the way my path had originally taken me. Hoping to run in with the Captain, but ultimately, convinced that I was alone.

I could barely see through the haze as I navigated my way back to where we had fought the wolves.

It was then that I encountered Rodin, alive against all odds, before he collapsed.

Awww hell no!

It took some effort to move him without aggravating his rather severe burns, but eventually I got us moving through the forest.

I was able to gather enough fruits as we walked that when we stopped for the night, I was able to feed myself, and shake him awake long enough for him to eat too.

That night it was easy to fall sleep.

I practically couldn't believe I was still alive; looking out for predators never even entered my mind. Sergeant Bill would skin me alive if he ever found out.

Now though, it’s morning again, and I can properly see how badly Rodin managed to screw his body over. His back runs the range from first to third degree burns, and I’m not even going to try to describe his ‘feet’. I wrap him in my entire supply of burn cream and bandages from my kit, hoping that’s going to be enough.

I have to carry him: No way in hell am I letting him walk back on those feet. The Captain would skin me alive…

It isn't that bad; he’s not all that heavy, and the forest-fire trail gives me a straight shot back home, so all I have to do is follow it.

Then he wakes up.

For about an hour there’s not much else but crying from the pain; apparently the Healers’ salves aren't fun when applied. Either they wear out, or he gets used to the pain, because he seems to calm down after that hour and attempts some conversation.

“Wh- What’s your name?”

“Herbert Senthson. And you are Rodin Everblaze, the village mage.”

“I see my reputation pre- precedes me.” *sob*

“What the hell did you do back there?” I want to know. I know at least a dozen of us died getting him there, and I’m guessing another four died getting the crystals in position. The least he could do is tell me what it was he did with all those sacrificed lives.

He laughs weakly. “I activated my failsafe.”

“Your failsafe?” I ask.

I can feel him nod. “Ever wonder why I picked your village to be stationed at? So far out of the way of the war?”

I hadn't, but I let him continue without interruption.

“I knew it was the end of the line for humanity, and I wanted the last of us to go out, with a bang!” He laughs and cries for a while after that.

I can’t help but wonder why he’s being so open about this. Surely if anyone knew he had that much magic stored away I’d have heard about it before now… right?

“Ok, but how did you do that? Could you do it again if that thing’s twin brother shows up for revenge or something?”

“How much do you know about fire-crystals kid?” he asks in return.

I’m not sure how much I like being called ‘kid’. “They’re some really powerful focus for fire mages, right?”

I can feel him nod again. “Right, so, they can act sort of like a focusing lens for fire spells. OR, they can store near infinite magical energy, but they chain it down! Making all that magic usable only for making magical fire,” he giggles, “guess what I've been doing every night for the last twenty-three years?” he asks in a broken, sing-song voice.

I remain silent.

Is there some side-effect to the salve I should know about? Is he drunk or something?

He waits for me to guess.

I relent, “I don’t know, what?”

Only his snores answer me, signaling that he’s fallen asleep.

Good. I’m sick of the delirium.

James Mender

Sophia has barely left his side.

I lean against a wall. This is a rare moment; with nothing requiring my immediate attention, I take the time regard the little girl. She looks sort of like him; their eyes are the same shade of blue at least.

The family resemblance is there, but it makes me wonder what her mother looked like. It’s odd, I saw her in Rodin’s memories. I know I did. But I can’t remember her face anymore…

Can he?

I shake my head. I can’t afford to dwell on it. When we finally returned to camp, most got to rest. I for one, got to head straight back to the hospital, tending to wounds and trying to keep everyone alive.

We lost too many in this excursion, far too many. I don’t want to lose any more if I can avoid it.

Of course, after the four hours’ sleep I grabbed once everyone was stable again, Rodin himself is carried into my hospital.

I have no idea how he survived that inferno. He really should be dead many times over.

The burns he has are quite severe. On his own, I’m sure his condition would just spiral until he dies. It was for situations like these that I first learned Spirit Weaving.

When flesh and medicine fails, it is the spirit that we turn to for aid.

I can hear some sort of commotion outside. I’m unsure of what’s going on, but I hope it’s just the guards bringing back a live deer or two.

I turn my gaze to the other beds. Almost two dozen men fill them, each with wounds so severe that we had to place them into stasis.

Rodin himself is in such a stasis.

It’s really one of the most useful tools in my arsenal, and it’s one of the first things I taught Hayley and Devin.

By forcing their spirit into an inactive state, all their body processes slow. They heal slower, breathe slower, dream slower, and most importantly, they die slower.

If Rodin might otherwise not live through the night, I can stretch his life out for weeks while we search for sacrifices.

Sure enough, two guards enter my hospital carrying a trussed up deer. I really must remember to thank the Captain for the steady supply of animals.

I wave them over to Rodin’s bed.

“Sophia, I need you to wait by the door.”

She looks at me, concern written all over her face.

What’s this? Rodin’s been in and out of here practically constantly since he first came to us, why is she so worried this time?

“Alright Mr. Mender,” she says quietly, moving out of the way.

As the deer is brought before us, I reach out with my spirit, which is second nature to me by now, and begin channeling its energy into Rodin’s spirit.

Granted, he’s never been this injured before, really. Now that I think about it, its mostly just been cases of overexertion.

I shake my head.

I've learned more about what Rune Calling does to the body through fixing him up than I ever wanted to know.

Even as the energy I’m feeding him is bolstering and invigorating Rodin’s shriveled up spirit, I’m studying the extent of his injuries again.

It’s almost a masterpiece of work.

Very localized burns, of varying intensity, I’d guess from resting on something very hot. His lungs have seen some kind of trauma. I’m guessing smoke inhalation, given past experience with his love of fire. His feet are a mess that I almost decided to cut off and have him grow new ones, but decided that healing them would take marginally less energy. To top it all off, he’s drained himself of so much energy it’s startling.

He once told me it was impossible to kill himself outright by simply over taxing himself, but I’m officially doubting him now.

All too soon the once struggling deer is no more than dust. My spirit waves to its as it departs for the afterlife. A pointless gesture, some might say.

The worst of Rodin’s burns are now gone, and I think the problems with his lungs have vanished. His feet show the barest amount of progress, but I imagine I’ll have to focus an entire sacrifice on them to make much headway. His bodily reserves of fat are back though, which affords me a measure of relief.

He’s not out of the woods yet, but he is no longer hanging off a thousand foot cliff by one finger. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to focus all the sacrifices on him, there are many others who need my help.

The guards seem anxious to get back outside; whatever commotion is present seems to have only increased in intensity.

Leaving the hospital in the capable hands of my assistants, I step outside, to see half the camp babbling in fear near the Governor’s residence.

The Captain is there, trying to keep things under control.

I approach him, keeping my own features calm. As I walk, I observe the spirits of the crowd with the eyes of my own spirit. They reveal no evidence of tampering, but I can read the worry and fear there like a book. Some of them are on the verge of panic, but I reach out and tap them, spiking their emotional energy a little, and they faint dead away.

I reach the captain, catching his eyes with my own, “What’s going on!” I ask over the sound of the crowd.

He motions me aside, having to raise his voice, even as he speaks in my ear. “Witnesses report a monster appearing, abducting Governor Birchwood, and vanishing, all in the space of a few seconds.”

I groan. I really hope this doesn't start another war. I’ll be hard pressed to restock my stores and get everyone on their feet again as it is. A war would only set me back further.

I haven’t even had time to really research what’s wrong with my special patients either. They were in my care even before we were sent to this world, and have yet to exit stasis in here. It’s frustrating; even with all I know, nothing I try with them works!

I rub my temples, trying to stave off a headache. “When was this? What did it look like?”

“About thirty minutes ago. Those nearby claimed it looked like a bunch of different animals sewn together, and that it spoke before disappearing with the Governor.”

I frown. That doesn't sound good. Some kind of intelligent chimera? “And we have no idea where it went? Or how far?”

The Captain nods grimly. “They could be over the next hill or half-way across the continent for all we know.”

I know what’s coming next so well that I can practically speak his next sentences for him.

“I’m going to start organizing the search parties. I need as many men as I can get, back on their feet, as soon as possible. And get Rodin up, I’m sure this thing used magic, that’s his specialty.

I smile wryly. There isn't much more I can do for many of them without getting more sacrifices, and he knows it. “Sure thing, Captain.”

Chapter 10: Old Wounds and New Ideas

Alexander Birchwood

A moment ago, I was walking home, trying to think of a good way to spend my lunch hour.

Then I was whisked away by some incredibly strange monster, before I could so much as scream.

I found myself in some sort of very large building. Given the large stain-glass windows, and the lavish decorations I imagine it serves as some sort of temple, but a temple to what, I have no idea.

I still am unable to scream, my movements reduced to moving my head around a little.

I chance a look down, and am horrified to discover that I don’t seem to possess a body anymore.

AHHHHHHHHHH! Am I dead? What did that thing do to me? Where is this place? Am I invisible? WHAT’S GOING ON?

I notice the monster that had grabbed me, now floating a few feet to my left. It’s… bizarre. Parts and pieces of him look like they belonged on various animals, some of which are familiar to me. One leg is reminiscent of a lion, another of a goat. The thing has two horns, each seemingly pulled from a different kind of animal.

Everything points to some sort of magical creature. I wonder what it wants with me?

The monster starts to speak. “Luna! Celestia! I’m glad I caught you. You’ll never believe what I found out.”

I follow its gaze to see two very strange horses further down the red carpet. They certainly remind me of horses anyway. I've never heard of a horse with wings before, or a horn for that matter.

Oh wait, there was that pony thing that was running around the village a week or two ago; it had wings.

It was sentient too. Which means these two probably are as well.

True to form, the tall white one speaks something, in a language I can’t understand. The tones sound light and soft, yet they echo with an inexplicable volume.

“True enough.” Somehow, I knew the monster had just rolled his eyes, despite having his back to me. How did I know that? “So I investigated, and the little princess was right after all. Humans are back in Equestria. But they are wonderfully different than they used to be, I’ll have you know. Take a look.”

With the practiced motions of an actor, that somehow looked graceful in spite of the mismatched animal parts, he dramatically motions to where I float invisibly. With a flash of light I suddenly find myself falling the remaining foot to the floor, where I stumble, gasping in the sudden shock of being able to move my body again.

Now that I think about it, I can breathe again! How am I not unconscious after not being able to breathe for a bit there?

The tall blue one says something in shock and the taller white one exclaims something that sounds like a reprimand.

The mismatched monster simply laughs and begins to float in the air over my head. “Oh relax! He can’t do anything to anyone. Just look at him, he’s got no magic.”

In another situation, I might take offence at this, but seeing how easily I had just been subdued and abducted, I content myself by scrambling for the exit to the room. Which, with a snap of the monster’s fingers, vanishes, becoming simply more of the same stone wall.

I turn, trying to find an escape route, but the only other one is past the two horses, where I can see a balcony.

The horses in question have transfixed me with their eyes, the white one, with an impassive face I can’t read and the blue one with undisguised suspicion.

“Oh, come on Governor, you can give a better first impression than that I’m sure.”

I force myself to calm down. If I’m being judged it will reflect upon the entire village! And we can’t exactly afford to offend anyone quite yet.

I glare at the monster. “If you’d just been abducted by an eldritch horror, I’d imagine your nerves would be frayed as well!” I feel the blood leave my face. Where did that come from? How could I possibly think antagonizing it was a good idea?

“Aaand I’m going to blame that on the nerves as well,” I give a rather dry swallow, and am surprised by what is obviously the sound of laughter coming from both the monster and the white horse, though the horse actually makes an effort to conceal it.

“Ehehehehe. Because I’m the horror here,” the monster chuckles.

The blue one approaches me warily, saying something in in that melodic voice all the horse-like creatures here seem to possess.

I just look at her, trying to fathom what she wants from me.

She repeats herself, looking impatient.

I turn to the monster, even though I don’t like him, because at least I can understand him, “What is she saying?”

Wait, how do I know it was female? I don’t know enough about horses to tell, aside from the obvious, so why am I so confident that the two horses are mares?

The blue one lifts one leg to her face, muttering something under her breath as the monster laughs at her expense.

The monster says something, and this time I can’t understand him. His… words don’t sound any different than before, but somehow their meaning now escapes me completely.

Can he somehow control what I understand? Is he in my head?

I manage to keep the horrified expression off of my face, regaining control of my panic just in time to hear the blue one speak words I can actually understand.

“I Princess Luna, welcome you to Canterlot.” I instinctively bow; royalty of any kind demands a show of deference.

“As do I, Princess Celestia,” the white horse says, coming up to stand beside Luna.

I turn to the monster, half expecting an introduction as well, but he’s staring thoughtfully at his claws for some reason.

I bow again to the other royalty in the room, and speak, “I thank you for the kind welcome, though I admit; I know nothing about anything that is going on here. I am Alexander Birchwood, the Governor of my humble village.” There. I think I’m over the fright; I'm in a situation somewhat resembling familiar territory after all: Politics.

“I see.” The gaze of the one called Luna hardens. “If you are the leader than you are the one to answer for your people’s crimes, yes?”

“Crimes?” I ask, the picture of innocence, “I know of no crimes.” This is bad. What could it have been? Dammit, this was exactly what I was afraid was going to happen!

“Discord?” Celestia asks the monster, leaving a question unspoken.

‘Discord’ what kind of question is that?

The monster grins. “You should have seen it, Celestia; you would have hated it, but I found it deliciously Chaotic. Your old palace has been turned into a hotel! Hundreds of humans are crawling all over your old stomping grounds like a swarm of ants!” He continues to ramble on, but has slipped into whatever dialect it is that I can’t understand.

He goes on for a while, his ‘hands,’ if you could call them that, gesturing wildly, little images I can't quite make out popping in and out of existence.

Eventually he seems to be wrapping up his tale, and slips back into a dialect I can understand. “-and no matter where I look, or how much cheese I offer the old windbag, I can’t find so much as a rumor of where Timber is now. It’s as if he up and left Equestria without anyone knowing.”

Celestia and Luna somehow look both relieved and concerned simultaneously. I for one, am concerned that I might sweat through my clothes. The good captain gave me a full account just after they got back, and he had said that Rodin had called the massive enemy ‘Timber’, just before he unleashed that spell. I wish I knew Rodin had that kind of power years ago.

We are so screwed.

Celestia seemed to notice my discomfort, in spite of my attempt to remain calm. “Do you know what happened to Timber, Alexander?”

“Of course he does!” the monster exclaims, “You can practically smell it on him, he knows what his people did.”

Luna growled. “And are you also responsible for the use of forbidden magic we've sensed?”

I frown. “We do have a mage, but I do not believe he dabbles in necromancy, no. As for Timber, his death was necessary to our continued survival. His wolves were attacking our men as they gathered food from the forest.”

“That’s not all you gather,” the monster crows at me.

“Hush, Discord, we can deal with that later.” Celestia reprimands him.

Wait, Discord is his name? I guess that makes sense, what with the mismatched parts.

Luna is not pleased with my answer, however. “'Timber's Death?' What you suggest is neigh impossible. I would have words with this mage of yours, if he indeed has used forbidden magic, I will end him.”

Well this isn't good.

“Oh come now Luna,” the thing named Discord interrupted, “It was self-defense, surely. Do you think that any mage would have used such magic if it wasn't necessary?”

“It is forbidden for good reasons Discord,” Celestia explains, “Not even you have ever dared to use it.”

“Well sure! My life has never been in danger before. Mortals tend to have that problem.”

Shit, these creatures are Immortals? If they attack us we’ll be dead before the battle even begins! At least Discord sees our side of it.

“I have every faith that Rodin did whatever it is that he might have done for the right reasons. He’s never given me reason to doubt his judgem- his character before.” I must speak nothing but the truth. I remember something about Immortals being able to sense lies and read minds.

“Even so. They have caused quite the disruption already. I have hundreds of complaints pouring in daily, due to the massive cloud of smoke now spreading across Equestria. The Pegasi tell me it will take months to clear completely, and Twilight herself has sent me two separate reports detailing the danger of the strange magical fire these humans wield! No Discord, they are not the same humans-” she glances at me and continues in a dialect I can’t understand.

I keep my face neutral, but inwardly I am very curious. What is it they don’t want me to know?

She finishes her rant, fixing me with a calm gaze. This gaze feels cold. I’d bet two years of my life that she’s currently imagining how best to rip my soul from my body.

Discord interjects, in that same dialect, seemingly making a point that gives Celestia pause. Luna scoffs, making her own position clear on the matter.

I think I’m getting better at reading their body language… but there’s no real way to know for sure.

This three sided argument stretches on for what feels like the better part of an hour. Discord getting less and less aloof as the conversation stretches on, seemingly unwilling to make light of these proceedings. Eventually, the two horses seem to be too fed up with the discussion to continue.

“Fine, Discord,” my attention latches on to words I can actually understand, “The humans can stay in Equestria. We won’t prevent them from leaving the Everfree forest.” Luna states for my benefit.

“But there is a catch.” Celestia interjects, “Since you argued for them, they will be your responsibility. I expect you to oversee their selection of residence as well as ease their introduction to the other races. Should there be an incident we will hold you responsible. You are also to handle their” *a word in that unknowable dialect* “in a manner acceptable to both them and us.”

Discord at first looked annoyed at this turn of events, but then erupts into a shout of joy! “YES!”
I look at him, afraid of what this might mean. “Thank you Celestia, Luna,” he teleports to directly in front of them and shakes their hooves up and down, almost too fast for my eyes to follow. “I’ll make 100% sure that I won’t regret you making this decision!”

“Discord…” Celestia’s expression carries both amusement and warning.

He’s busy throwing an assortment of clothes into some sort of cloth bag he summoned out of thin air. “Well it's been fun but I've got humans to meet, see you girls next Sunday for tea and cake, right?” The bag is thrown over his shoulder, and he has one very strong lion paw wrapped around my shoulder, as he looks over at the two mares with an innocent smile for confirmation.

The moment Celestia’s head finishes nodding in affirmation, he’s snapping one finger, and I feel a familiar jolt as we teleport somewhere.

Even as we arrive on the doorstep of my house, I’m still desperately trying to figure out if everything has just gone horribly wrong, or horribly right.

James Mender

The patient’s body is healthy. Internal organs are fully functional and the heart beats healthily and strong.

The patient’s spirit is a perfect reflection of the health in its body, there is no imbalance there.

The patient’s stay in my care has brought it to the apex of health, yet both body and spirit remain maimed. Where his legs should be, there is nothing but bloody stumps. Both the twin gashes in the patient’s spirit and the stumps have stubbornly refused to so much as staunch the bleeding, ever since they entered my care.

Through a combination of heavy stasis, tourniquets and clamps, I've managed to keep him from slowly bleeding out, but I have yet to be able to heal the wounds.

This man’s arm had been broken as well, when he had first arrived, but that had been healed easily. Something was keeping him from channeling energy into the patient’s legs; whenever he tried it just slipped right off them.

Rodin had checked them for a magical influence, but, as he had said, “It’s obvious that something’s there, but I can’t so much as detect it. Whatever it is, my neither of our magics seem capable of affecting it.” This man had been with them ever since, but had been kept in constant stasis.

I finished my examination. Nothing was different from the last time.

I turn to the other long-term patient that had arrived with him. This one was a girl, but their injuries were very similar.

She had lost her right arm at the shoulder, and her hamstrings had been viciously cut from behind. She too, was stable and in heavy stasis, but there was no healing those injuries somehow.

Sometimes I wonder what did this to these two. They had arrived suddenly one night, and with no real explanation. I never even learned their names.

I sigh and stand, unwilling to waste more of my much needed time on a problem I can't solve.

I walk past the two statues, the eyes of my spirit seeing the spirits of the occupants clearly still attached to their stone forms. They were in a kind of half-stasis when they first arrived. I could see their horror at their situation written on their spirits, and with a little testing, confirmed that they were somehow aware of their surroundings.

I have yet to find a cure for them either, but to save their sanity; they agreed to be put into deeper stasis for the wait. I’m just glad it worked.

Most of my other patients are relatively straightforward cases. Wounds I understand, horrifically life-threatening as they may be, are comparatively easy to deal with. Either stasis will tide them over until I find a sacrifice, or it won’t. Either one sacrifice will be enough to bring them back up to speed, or it will take more.

The healing aspects of this magic are actually rather simple. It’s when you branch out into its other uses that it gets both more difficult, and more ethically questionable.

There’s a reason I’m selective when it comes to choosing my apprentices.

My walk of the hospital brings me to Rodin’s bed.

I ponder his particularly interesting case. He always seemed to require more energy than others to recover. It had puzzled me for a long time, but I found the answer in his mind.

He literally is a magical human. Humans have no innate magic. Yet he was born with magic running in his veins and infusing his flesh, just as his father was, just as his daughter was. It’s remarkable, really, that his body functions so exactly like a humans as to be nearly indistinguishable.

But I know what to look for. Parts moving with more energy than they should, fat and muscle burning and building at strange rates, all signs of the extra magic building and being used up as he works.

I've seen him go from gaunt and starving to a little overweight in the span of a month.

I’m even pretty sure he actually has to use his magic, or the fat will keep building. Still all mostly theory though. It’s not like I can just ask him. Hells, I think I know more about how Rodin’s body functions than Rodin knows himself.

Still, this means that rebuilding that burned flesh is going to require a whole lot of energy than one measly sacrifice.

Dammit. This was so much easier when we were mentally linked. I think it acted like some sort of amplifier.

I shake my head at myself. No, I can’t think like that. It was incredibly dangerous for me to do, and we’re all very lucky it worked out as well as it did.

There’s a commotion outside again. Did the chimera abduct someone else too?

Cries of alarm are sounded, and the pounding of metal-clad feet echoes loudly outside my door.

I push aside my assistants, saying only “Stay here and keep everyone stable.” before leaving the hospital in pursuit of the commotion for the second time in the same number of hours.

As before, I scan the crowd with my spirit’s eyes, and what I see concerns me. Fear, worry, but also now anger.

I am not the tallest of men, so until I finally manage to push my way to the front, I don’t see the cause of all of this.

I indeed see some kind of chimera. I can see parts of multiple groups of animals all blending seamlessly together as if they grew there. But that is not what shocks me to my core. With the eyes of my spirit still open, I am nearly blinded by the sight before me.

The spirit of the being before me is larger than it has any right to be, extending infinitely in all directions, yet paradoxically is the same size as the chimera. He radiates a golden light, and I am forced to shut the eyes of my spirit from the pain.

With very physical tears pouring from my physical eyes, the Captain notices the awe and terror on my face.

I watch as the being stands, its amusement plain for all to see as the Guard surrounds it, while ushering a distraught Governor to safety.

“What is it, Mender! What do you see?” the Captain is asking me.

I’m horrified at the reaction of the crowd, throwing insults and jeers as the monster that had dared take away their leader from them, even for such a short time.

We can’t afford to do this! I realize, We can’t afford to make him angry!

I force myself to tear my eyes from the being and focus on the Captain. My focus narrows to his face. I have to make him understand; all our lives depend on it!
“I see that.” I emphasize, pointing at the being literally laughing at the crowd’s calls for blood, “And that, Captain Weathers, is a physically present god!

His face turns an impressive shade of white to mirror my own.

“I-”, he starts, before stopping, still processing the situation, “I’ll try to calm down the crowd.”

I nod, seeing the physical god in front of us beginning to wind up his laughter. The second he gets annoyed by all this instead of amused, we’re all dead.

“Good plan. I’ll help you.”

Author's Note

You only get two perspectives this time. Oh well.

If you'd care to spend a moment writing a comment, let me know what you think of Discord's portrayal so far; I'm curious as to how he comes across.

Chapter 11: A Deal with the Draconequus

James Mender

I am afraid.

In my fear, I turn my back on the god, opening the eyes of my spirit to the crowd before me. Reaching out, I latch on to the spirits of those near me, sinking little shards of my own into theirs.

As I walk the crowd, I continue to spread little shards of myself, and slowly I can feel myself being stretched thin. This is a large crowd, so I start to pull energy through the shards.

Nothing more than a drop, but it’s there. Drawing from so many sources, it’s more than enough to keep me going, spreading more and more shards into the people whose bones I have set, and whose wounds I have closed.

Many of these men and women I have watched grow from children.

The rush of energy invigorates me; I feel fresh and ready to tackle any problem, despite my lack of sleep. It’s empowering!

With the influx of power, my reach and my sight extends. Soon the whole crowd carries a shard of mine, though the guards I have purposely avoided.

The Captain already has control of his guards, their weapons no longer pointed toward the god, but now sheathed, using their shields to keep the crowd at bay.

I can feel all of their spirits connected to my own, I can touch their anger, their rage.

I draw a measure of power from them with surgical precision, no more than I need, and then turn that power back upon them, crushing the fury from their minds. In the space of moments, the crowd loses its fuel, suddenly unsure of themselves.

I feel a deeply seated sense of satisfaction. It worked perfectly; these blind ones don’t even realize how easy it was. I force a new emotion on them as I hear the captain speaking: awe and wonderment. It mixes beautifully with the fear that they already possessed, creating something deliciously potent.

In droves, the fools fall to their knees, some outright prostrating themselves before… the god.

I shake my head, as I glimpse that shining beacon with my second eyes again. The pain of glimpsing its magnitude reminds me of why I had gone to such lengths.

My work done, I swiftly withdraw my shards, causing both me and the crowd some small measure of discomfort. With luck they would attribute it to the god before them and not their peaceful healer.

I am shaking as I bow my head in deference to the god. I do not shake out of fear of the god, though I do fear its immeasurable power.

I shake, because I can no longer feel the rush of power and the feeling of invincibility.

I shake, because I came close to losing myself.

I raise my head, and find myself looking into the eyes of the god. It wears an expression of surprise hidden behind a mask of mischievousness, and as meets my gaze directly. Those eyes oppress me; I can feel them piercing through my body and reading my spirit like a book. I dare not open the eyes of my spirit to return that gaze; I know it would destroy me.

The god seemed to find whatever it was he was looking for, and his gaze moved elsewhere, dismissing him as unimportant.

It… saw what I did… and doesn’t care?

Samuel Weathers

“Silence you fools!” I demand of the crowd. To my surprise, they actually calm down at the sound of my voice, “Can you not see that it is a god that stands before you? Your foolishness has endangered us all!”

At the revelation, expressions turn from righteous anger to a mixture of shame and fear. A physically present god is no laughing matter, after all. We should have been offering up sacrifices by now.

The implications that a god has chosen to grace us with a physical body seems to sink in, and many of the people fall to their knees in awe.

“I will admit, I did not expect this reaction,” the god speaks. His voice is light, yet it pervades the air around me, as if his words came from whatever direction he chose.

I turn to face the god, keeping my eyes glued to the ground beneath his ‘feet’, and dropping to one knee in recognition of his power.

“On behalf of the guard, I apologize for the actions of my men. We have yet to meet or learn of the gods in this land, yet that does not excuse their behavior. We will accept whatever punishment you see fit.”

Through my peripherals, I can see the god wave dismissively at me. “Oh don’t worry about that, it was refreshing actually; my mere presence invoked such wonderful response! Allow me to introduce myself, I am Discord, recently reformed Spirit of Chaos!” With his announcement, a flurry of fireworks erupts from behind him, causing an assault upon my eardrums. Despite the discomfort, I remain still in my position of submission. It would not do to place my own comfort above the respect due to a god.

And why is there a god of chaos visiting us? Actually, does a god of chaos need a reason?

The god looked around at the crowd, which was now very still and very quiet. “Alright then,” the god sighed, “down to business I suppose. I want to chat with your leaders, I’ll take the loud one,” he is pointing at me, “the sneaky one,” he points over my head at someone in the crowd, “the Governor, and the fun one with the fire.”

With that, the god snaps his fingers, and the building behind him, which happens to be the governors house, is replaced into a giant orange and yellow pavilion. “I expect you four in twenty minutes. Be on time!” he demands, before shrugging, “Or not.” With a laugh the god phases through the walls of his own pavilion, not bothering to use the entrance.

I finally straighten, and start issuing orders. “I want a perimeter on the pavilion, no civilian gets within a dozen feet of it. Lock down the bridge, nobody leaves the village until this is resolved.”

Sergeant Vern is nearby, and he gladly begins making my will a reality.

The Governor is soon at my side, his face is white as a sheet, and he’s mumbling something about “gods… they were gods…”

It is good that he is here, but now I need to figure out what the god meant by ‘the sneaky one’, and ‘the fun one with the fire’.

Thankfully Mender shows up, perhaps he can help me figure it out.

Before I get a chance to ask, he looks at me with weary eyes and tells me, “I’m here; though getting Rodin conscious enough to meet with a god isn't going to happen today without sacrifices.”

I spend a moment pondering how the last one could never have been anybody but Rodin.

Perhaps his daughter, if she had more of an outlet for it… I shudder to think of two Rodins running around.

“Even so, if he can be moved, get him inside the pavilion; I don’t want to piss this guy off.”

In short order this was so: the four of us entered the pavilion, with three of us carrying Rodin on his bed.

The inside of the pavilion is something remarkable. The walls of the pavilion are lined with a fluffy pink substance that reminds me of clouds, while the air is filled with a silent whirlwind of objects flying in all directions.

Even as we make our way to the center of it, none of the flying objects strike us, though a pie does come rather close to nailing me in the face, enough so that I can smell the apples in it. Smells like good pie, oddly enough.

In the center of the pavilion, the god sits on a throne. It’s a wooden and stone seat, with two antlers affixed to its top, but otherwise minimalist decoration. He lounges on it, seemingly bored as he observes us enter.

In front of him sits a small table, with four wooden chairs awaiting us.

We set Rodin’s bed down next to the table and each take a seat.

“Well this is cozy. I take it this is the mage?” The god teleports next to Rodin, eyeing his myriad of bandages. “Well he’s not much fun like this.”

“If I had more sacrifices I could heal him,” Mender offers. His expression having since recovered to one of clinical disinterest.

“Sacrifices?” The god asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Uninjured animals, preferably.” He clarifies.

The god considers this, amused. With a snap of his fingers, several dozen tiny little balls with wings appear on the table in a cage. They sport large eyes that take up most of their boy and little insect wings. They chirp in a way that would be endearing, if they weren't all about to die.

Mender looks intrigued, and begins to work his magic.

The god in particular is watching him in interest. As Mender concentrates, the balls of fuzz shrink in size, one by one, before disintegrating entirely.

I've seen Mender work his magic so often it’s no longer a novelty to me, yet to this god it seems to be rocking his world.

“Oh wow. Now that… that has potential right there,” he says as he watches, “Imagine, if I had thought of this four thousand years ago…” His musing is cut short by Rodin himself as he wakes up.

“What in the hells!” Rodin demands, bolting upright to a sitting position, and looking around, “What kind of bizarre afterlife is this?”

I laugh, this strange pavilion of randomness would give that impression, now that I think about it. “You aren't dead. A god of chaos is paying us a visit.” I gesture to the god, who is once more resting on his throne.

The god’s hands form a steeple, and his eyes are narrowed in focus. The objects flying every which way speed up, soon we are surrounded by a whirlwind of odd colors, though still it makes no noise.

“Now that you've had your beauty sleep, mage, let’s get down to why we are here, humans.”

Alexander Birchwood

I think I’m getting used to the feeling of raw vulnerability.

The two horses, Luna and Celestia, I’d bet anything they were just as much gods as this Discord thing that has taken such an interest in us.

“First things first, you have all technically broken a few laws of the land, by taking up residence in this place,” the god begins, his tone is not one of condemnation, but resignation, despite his commanding expression. “of course, those laws only apply to a certain subset of individuals, of which most of you are not part of.” I almost sigh in relief, but there’s more.

“Except for you,” he says, pointing at Rodin, “Rodin, right? You stand charged of destruction of public property, violation of zoning laws, murder, and the use of forbidden magic. Congratulations. I couldn't care less,” the god shifts in his throne, now resting his head on one paw, his facade of seriousness gone. His boredom and irritation are apparent.

Rodin, for his part, looks resigned to whatever his fate is, though he is intrigued by this change in atmosphere.

“Celestia and Luna still like this old palace of theirs, and didn't like learning what you've done with it. I managed to convince them they were being childish about the whole thing. You’re welcome.”

I bow my head, “Thank you, Discord, how can we repay you?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something.” He replies, with a glint of mischievousness. “Anyway, that just takes care of the first two. I’m mostly interested in why and how you killed Timber.”

The captain clears his throat, but Rodin interrupts him. “I can answer this. We set out to destroy whatever was creating the wooden wolves that were attacking us. When I discovered that our target, Timber, was an Immortal, I decided to use overwhelming force. I had an item known as a fire crystal, which I have been storing excess magic in since I first received it as a young man. In unleashing all of that power, I believe that I destroyed Timber’s physical body, leaving only some kind of glass sphere in which his soul resided. Thinking that he would return from such a state and destroy us, and not possessing any other method of killing him, I used the rune of Destruction to remove him from existence entirely.” He tells his tale with restrained professionalism, sort of like a soldier, I muse.

Discord laughs long and hard, wiping a stray tear from one eye. “Oh perfection! The old bastard got his butt handed to him by humans, twice!”

I’m not so sure if Rodin’s tale counts as two separate events, but I keep my mouth shut.

“Anyway. Outright destruction is strictly forbidden in this world. You’re going to have to be punished for that.” Before anyone can object, he snaps his fingers, and Rodin is enveloped in a bright white light.

The light dissipates, and Rodin is still sitting there, a confused look on his face.

“Rodin? ” I ask carefully, “What did he do?”

His brow furrows in concentration, and a look of surprise dawns on his face.

“He… took the runes of Creation and Destruction from me. I don’t know what they look like anymore.”

“Not only that,” Discord states, “Even if you or your daughter manage to learn them again, they will no longer work. I must say, your magic is quite the masterpiece. Whoever made it is quite the artiste,” the god says, drawing out the pronunciation of that last word in a strange way.

“Regardless. Now that the unpleasantries are out of the way, allow me to be the third to welcome you to Equestria!” Discord exclaims, and a faint musical tune begins playing in the background. The whirlwind slows and objects begin bobbing in time to the gyrating notes.

The god lifts some sort of black, plastic, half-mask onto his face, so that it only covers his eyes as he rests against the back of his throne.

“So tell me about yourselves. Where are you from?”

This is probably a question I should be answering, so I speak up, “We hail from another world, where our village was part of the Kingdom of Wisdom. Our world ended. The last we heard, the Kingdom of Might had fallen, and our own armies were marching out to do battle with the evil ones. We must have lost, because not a day later the demons were spotted on the horizon. It was at that moment that our gods must have intervened, and we were sent to this land. Had they not, we would all be very much dead.”

Discord looked at me, an emotion I couldn't see past the mask, on his face. “Well that’s depressing. And you landed in the most dangerous place in Equestira too: the Everfree forest. Good job surviving here, by the way. Tell me more about these gods of yours.”

“Our world contains… contained, hundreds of gods; they had organized themselves into three pantheons. The first, the pantheon of Good, were our creators, and they nurtured and cared for us from on high. The second, the pantheon of Evil, sought to unmake us and the world, and in the end they succeeded. The third’s name, I do not know, though some believe them to represent the forces of Balance. It is rare for a god to be physically present on the material plane such as yourself,” I finish with another bow from my seat.

Discord spends a long moment simply thinking about what I have just said. Slowly, he starts to chuckle, “Ohohoho! This is too good to pass up!” His eyes light up, as if he just had a brilliant idea, turning to face his audience of four.

He then utters the one phrase all men instinctively fear when spoken by a god.

“I’d like to propose a deal.”

I fight down a sudden surge of panic, and turn to my friends and co-workers. The good captain looks uneasy, but as stoic as ever. The good healer seems to be measuring discord with his eyes, suspicion plainly evident. Rodin seems intrigued, as if he’s calculating exactly what he might be able to get out of such a deal. What do I feel? I feel like a god with the power to reduce me to a stain on the floor is asking if I want to co-operate or not.

“W-Well then, let’s hear it,” I force out.

“I’ll be honest with you, the other gods of this world will want to change you. You are a violent species, and violence hasn't been prevalent for thousands of years here. It simply doesn't factor in to daily life anymore. This forest is the exception.” He gestures around the pavilion, while taking a sip from a glass of some brown liquid that wasn't there a second ago. “They will want to change your very nature to fit in with their Harmony. But I like your nature, and I’m convinced that you can fit in, in spite of, or perhaps because of, your more… chaotic tendencies.”

“What I propose is the following. I will make sure that you and your descendants retain your ‘humanity’ and your free will. I’ll also make sure the afterlife here doesn't reject your souls. I will even do everything in my power to keep your race from going extinct. And on top of that, I’ll do my best to make sure you integrate successfully with society here, while retaining your own culture.”

“And in return?” I ask, waiting for the other boot to drop.

“Well, I’d expect you to at least consider my words when I have something to say,” his voice drips with sarcasm, perhaps he is not usually trusted? “and naturally, I’d expect you not to make deals with other gods without my approval. The occasional personal favor would be nice too. I would also get to show you how to induce chaos in ‘a socially acceptable manner’, and having more chaos running around is always a bonus for me.”

I frown. “How much of this proposal are you being required to do by Celestia and Luna, anyway?” I say, half afraid that he would be caught off guard by this.

He didn't seem fazed at all by my question. “None of it, really. If you don’t want my help, making sure you all stay in the Everfree and therefore never getting the opportunity to imbalance the Harmony within Equestira, would satisfy my obligations. Of course, I don’t think they expected me to actually champion your race, so they might not be so wonderfully pleased when they find out. Oh I can’t wait to see their faces!” He devolves into anticipatory laughter, and snaps his fingers.

A sheet of paper appears on the table, next to a quill and inkwell. Looking at it, I can see our conversation transcribed on it. I turn to the others.

“What are your thoughts? Do you think we should we call a council for this?” I inquire, passing them the paper and quill.

Captain Weathers shakes his head. “In this they would trust your judgment. After all, the god is not asking the council to decide. I would vote yes; having a god on our side is preferable to having one against us.”

Mender nods, “All gods are dangerous beyond measure, but I doubt this one wishes us harm. Even if he did, we could not stop him. I vote yes.”

Rodin is grinning. “Well come on, how much fun would it be to say no? I mean, a physically present god wants to show us the ropes and watch our backs because he likes us! How can anyone say no to that? I say yes!”

I’m still not sure whether this is going to bite us in the ass later. “Then it’s decided, on behalf of humanity, we agree.”

Each of us in turn signs the document.

Discord gives us a toothy smile and snaps his fingers.

Author's Note

There was going to be one more perspective, but then I ~~took an arr-~~ hit the ceiling on the word count.

Chapter 12: Weaponizable Information

Rodin Everblaze

There is a brilliant flash of light. When it clears, our surroundings have changed dramatically. I can feel the heat of the sun shining down on me, and my eyes show me a gently rolling pasture of green fields.

It looks very peaceful.

“Alright; I’ll make this quick boys, I've got places to be after this.” I turn to see Discord, now a decidedly transparent blue, floating lazily to my left.

I also see the others, the exact same shade of see-through blue, hovering next to me. Looking down, my own body seems to have adopted this... ghost-like appearance.

Huh. Well this is interesting.

I decide it’s not worth freaking out about. He will likely change us back at some point.

Returning my attention to the god, I notice an oddly colored horse in front of me. It’s orange, and wearing a brown hat.

“This, is a pony. You’re going to be living among them soon, get used to the look.” I tilt my head, trying to get a better look at it, when it vanishes, replaced by two, much bigger, ponies, each bearing wings a horn. “These two ladies are responsible for the lovely things you know as day and night.” Discord sighs with feeling. “Please don’t screw with them too much, or it’ll make me look bad. Oh, and they might kill you or something.” He waves a claw dismissively.

I do my best to commit their appearances to memory. The taller one is a bright white, with a flowing mane of shifting color and magenta eyes. She has a small sun emblazoned upon her hindquarters. Her counterpart, appropriately, has a moon, is more of a dark blue, and has teal eyes with a shifting mane of stars.

“So these are the ponies' gods?” I ask, wanting to make sure.

Discord lets out a hesitant sound. “Eeeeeeehweeell, technically… Yes. But nobody really uses that word anymore. Most ponies won’t know what ‘god’ even means. They call themselves ‘the princesses’ or something nowadays. It’s really best to just roll with it.”

I can’t fathom the reasoning behind it, but if that’s what Discord asks of us, that’s what we will do. Even so, the thought of walking up to such powerful beings and addressing them as merely a ‘princess’ makes me chuckle. “If you think that’s best,” I say while hiding a grin.

“Alright, so, the princesses rule over all of Equestria, and they don’t like it when you kill sentient beings. I can find the humor in it, sometimes. But these ponies won’t ever understand. So when you see a pony, hide all the bodies. It offends their delicate sensibilities, ‘kay?” Discord sniffs as he mocks the ponies and I raise an eyebrow at him.

James speaks out for all of us. “We aren't murderers, Discord, we kill out of necessity, or not at all.”

“All too true, all too true.” Discord concedes the point, while managing to come off with an edge of condescension. Well, he is a god; I guess he has had a lot longer to ponder the ethics involved. “Even so.”

The pony goddesses vanish and are replaced with the pony from before. “This is an earth pony, they use their magic to grow all the food, if you kill any, the princesses will be angry at us.”

The pony vanishes and a blue one with a horn and a wizard hat appears in the other’s place. “This is a unicorn, they use their magic for mostly utility spells. If you kill any, the princesses will be furious with us.” That one vanishes before I get a good enough look at the hat, and is replaced by a gray pony with a pair of wings and crossed eyes. “This is a Pegasus, they use their magic to control all the weather. If you kill any, the princesses will give you cookies. The cookies will be poisoned.”

The pony vanishes and a new one appears, it has neither horn nor wings, but sparkles all over. “This is a crystal pony, they work with crystals, if you kill any, eh… you know, it’s just not a good idea.” Discord shrugs, hiding a grin.

The pony vanishes and a monster takes its place. A wickedly curved beak matches with the white feathers and sharp talons to give it an avian appearance, yet its hindquarters end in paws and a cat’s tail. The wings are large and powerful, adding to an already striking figure.

“This is a griffon. If you kill one, Equestria would go to war with the griffons. That would be bad.” I sigh at his words.

This is getting repetitive. I think we get it; killing things is counter-productive here.

The griffon is replaced with something distinctly canine, yet bipedal. And with a face only a mother could love, too. “This is a Diamond Dog. Feel free to smack them around. Make sure you kill them only in self-defense and all that though. The point is, they’re slavers, acceptable targets for the most part around here. It’s the same with these guys.”

A distinctly equine bug appears alongside the dogs. Its chitin is black and the eyes glow with their own light. “These are changelings, ponies don’t like them, and they don’t like ponies. Personally I think it’s all a big misunderstanding, but nobody listens to me. Feel free to kill them on sight if the guards don’t do that for you, but if you kill very many it will piss off their queen,” a much larger changeling appears before us, “and that would be bad. I don’t want her mad at me more than she already is, and now you guys represent me as much as I represent you.”

I frown. “So are you saying we should kill changelings or not?” Combat magic rarely leaves room for debate in that department. Either I’ll be trying to kill them or I won’t be. It dictates which runes I use at the very least.

“I would rather you didn't,” Discord says nonchalantly, as if he honestly doesn't care all that much. “But the ponies wouldn't hate you for it.” Suddenly he becomes much more animated. “On to new topics! Important ponies to know ahead of time!”

With a wave of his hand the creatures vanish, and six mares appear. Each looks rather different than the last and three of the four sub-races are represented among them, with one of them sporting the same wings and horn as the goddesses. What, no crystal ponies?

“These six are the princesses’ personal pets, also known as the elements of harmony. You've got magic, loyalty, honesty, generosity, laughter, and Fluttershy.” Discord points to each in turn. When it comes to Fluttershy he separates her image out from the group for a moment. “Fair warning, if you hurt any of those five you’ll destroy any chance of peaceful negotiations, and barring that, the princesses will seal the lot of you as statues for thousands of years. But if anyone so much as gestures at Fluttershy with the wrong end of a weapon…” his eyes narrow dangerously as he turns to stare at us. “Then that person would answer to a very angry me. Also, the universe itself would likely decide you aren't worthy of existing and retroactively erase your whole family.”

That threat- no, that statement hangs in the air for several seconds. I use the time to memorize Fluttershy’s appearance with fervor. Pink hair, yellow coat, blue eyes, three butterflies, wings… Got it. Hopefully now I can help avoid a tragedy.

“Moving on.” He gestures and a fourth pony with both wings and a horn appears. “This one’s the princess of the crystal ponies. She’s also a young one… It’s best if we don’t bother her too much in these formative years. Don’t kill too many crystal ponies and there shouldn't be a problem.” That grin he wears betrays his serious tone.

Weathers finally speaks up. “Is this whole ‘extraordinarily violent reputation’ thing going to be a recurring theme with the ponies? We can be quite peaceful when we want to be, you know.”

“Oh I know, but teasing you about it’s too much fun to resist. Think about it though. You've met exactly two intelligent beings since you got here, and half of those you killed with forbidden magic that even I never touched.”

I shift a little nervously, having been the one to do that. Wait, even him? “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘even you never touched it?’”

“Oh I got bored and took over Equestria several thousand years ago. It was quite the ride for a while, but I recently gave that up in favor of other pursuits. More specifically, I’m all about bending the rules and reaching for the juicy forbidden stuff, but there are some lines you just don’t cross. I almost thought what you did was impressively hilarious, and then I found out you did it out of ignorance and desperation. Such a letdown!”

Well that’s not very nice… Besides, what choice did I have?

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” the Governor speaks up, coming to my defense. I’m glad he has my back, but there is no arguing with gods.

“Even so, he’s lucky he wasn't erased from existence the instant he tried it.” Discord sighed, looking at me with… Jealousy? The hell? “Anyway, I think that’s everything for the moment.” Discord’s ghostly image snaps its fingers and the world is consumed with bright light again.

When the light clears, I find myself back where we had started, seated around the table with Discord on his throne.

“Well that’s that.” He sounds rather pleased with himself. “You have enough information to last you the next little bit and I've got my work laid out for me.” He stands from his throne, stretching and cracking his back. “One thing’s for sure, you’re all going to need magic, so start thinking about what kind you want. Oh, and do everyone a favor and don’t go beyond the Everfree until I get back.”

As he speaks the god is grabbing objects about the room and tossing them into a small bag. The throne, the pink lining of the tent, the objects that had been bobbing in time to the music I can suddenly hear again, soon all that remained was the tent itself and the table.

In another time I might have been impressed by the powers this god displayed, but no longer. I have seen the sky rent and repaired endlessly by the warring forces of creation and destruction, a display like this is beyond my own abilities or comprehension, yes, but it was nothing amazing for a god.

“When can we expect you?” I ask.

“Oh, I’ll be back in a few hours. Or days,” he shrugs and snaps his claws.

Another flash of light burns at our eyes, when it clears, I find myself standing outside Alexander’s home with the others.

I can see the crowd milling around, noticing our sudden appearance with a mixture of shock and concern. The pavilion we were just in is nowhere to be seen.

Presumably, Discord is gone.

“Well that was interesting.” I offer.

James Mender

I had made my escape from the crowd with Rodin, and had led him to my medical building, leaving the Governor and the Captain to explain things and spread the word.

As we enter I note that my apprentices are hard at work, doing their jobs in spite of the commotion, just as I have trained them. Good. I do not stop here, however, and lead Rodin downstairs by the cells that lie unused below my hospital.

Here we can speak privately and candidly.

He looks highly amused at the whole situation, but I do not see the humor.

I decide against any sort of banter, “Do you think we can trust Discord?”

He loses a bit of his good mood as he considers it.

“I don’t think we have much of a choice. We have no idea what kind of world we’re walking into, it looks like some races are protected by gods and others aren't. We could have easily caused an incident by accident, without his information.”

He has a point, but there’s a larger issue at hand. “I see no reason why he should take such an interest in us, nor have I seen proof that he has our best interests at heart. We could be nothing more than a pawn to him. He seems like the trickster type.”

Rodin smiles ruefully at me. “How is that any different than back home? We've always been pawns of the gods. That doesn't mean they don’t look out for us. In this case, we have little choice but to trust him. Our survival this long has been mostly luck; luck that we've had the tools to deal with the obstacles we've faced, luck that the gods here didn't decide just to wipe us out and sweep us under the rug, luck that I survived that inferno… We can’t keep relying on luck, one ill-timed misfortune and humanity is now extinct.”

I sigh. As if I needed the reminder. I think bitterly to myself. Being responsible for the health and well-being of the village is so much more stressful when one must literally re-invent every medicine from strange ingredients.

“I don’t like not knowing his plans for us. Trusting him might only expedite our extinction.”

“Try not to worry about it,” Rodin advises, “think about all the things he’s promised to do! The whole village is going to get magic for goodness sake! Imagine what we might do with it!” Rodin trails off, following his own advice and letting his mind wander.

He has a point about the magic… I can only hope it will temper our ambitions rather than the alternative. But wait, he said to think about what kind we wanted, does that mean we get a choice?

“Rodin.” He snaps out of his reverie. “How many kinds of magic have you heard about?”

“Well there’s a tall order.” He chuckles, running a hand through his greasy hair. “Ok, there’s yours, mine, Ritual Study, the four Druidic Circles technically are separate mediums, then there’s the Mana Burners, the Necromancers, the Arcanists, the Blessed Ones and the hundreds of clerical orders, lets count them as one, and finally the Elementalists. And those are just the ones I've studied. I’m sure there are more.”

“Right, a lot,” I state, not needing the details, “Of all that, what do you think Discord will be giving our people?”

Rodin takes a breath and hesitates. “I… Now that I think about it, I can’t say. He didn't just say he would teach us a new kind of magic, he said we were going to need magic. I… can’t fathom why.”

I can, and it doesn't bode well. The gods have always needed errand boys, to go do what they can’t or won’t do themselves. It stands to reason that we would need magic to defend ourselves on those kinds of tasks. By giving us magic, Discord is just making us more useful to him.

“The real question is what he meant by telling us to ‘think about what kind we want.’ Does he expect us to design our own magic?” Rodin muses.

That is a good question. We sure as hell don’t understand how magic works, how could we forge our own? Then again, what if we aren't supposed to do that so much as pick what we want it to be able to do?

“Rodin, describe to me how your magic works to the best of your ability.”

He looks at me askance, then at the door to the stairwell. His eyes glow as he cast’s a spell on it, I presume it’s some sort of soundproofing, before answering me.

“We've shared minds and memories, so I’m not sure how much more you think I can tell you, but I’ll humor you. The gods blessed the blood of my line and others to bear magic; I can call upon this magic through runes of power. These runes were written by the gods ages ago and have been handed down through the generations. These runes form the basic building blocks for the various magical effects. To get a specific or complex effect one needs to combine several runes into a sort of sentence. Since the magic comes from my blood, overuse can result in exhaustion or even death in extreme cases. Similarly, a long period of disuse can result in an overcharge of power, often leaking out in dangerous ways…” Rodin continues on in lecture fashion for some time, having been caught up in a speaking style I suspect as being reminiscent of his old days in his guild hall.

At length he wraps it up, and I pose him a simple question. “You couldn't recreate your magic if you tried for a hundred years, yet you can easily describe it. Why can we not simply describe a kind of magic to Discord?”

It brings me some amusement to see his mouth open and close repeatedly without managing to form words.

“I… suppose we could do that.”

Chapter 13: The Newest Normal

Sophia Everblaze

It’s been two days since daddy woke up.

I had been worried sick for him! He had never been hurt this bad before…

I heard some guards say his magic did this to him. If that’s true, I don’t think I want to learn it anymore.

Nobody goes to the hospital as much as daddy does.

At least I got to spend time with him; after the big ‘Discord’ guy showed up, everyone’s been too busy talking to bother us.

I’m sitting on a bench, snacking on some nuts with him right now, not saying much of anything, just sitting.

I can see lots of clouds from here. It’s a pretty nice day today.

It’s nice to have some time with him before the next big thing. Daddy said that this ‘Discord’ guy will be coming back soon, and when he does, things will change again.

I’m not so sure I want that.

I mean, the last time things changed, everyone was about to die, and then we came here. But now things are nice, I don’t want to go back to where we’re about to die.

I look up at daddy.

He’s got lines of silver in his hair, and wrinkles around his eyes. I heard Miss Fletcher say that he’s too young to have wrinkles like that. I’m not sure what age has to do with it though. Sam is ancient and he doesn't have that many.

“Daddy?” I begin, not sure how to put my thoughts into words.

“Yes?” He smiles down at me, seemingly in a good mood.

“Why won’t you re-marry?”

His eyes go blank for a few moments.

“Uhhh… What brings this up, Sophia?” He looks thoughtfully at me, but I can see he’s a little anxious.

“I heard some ladies talking about it.” Miss Mender and Miss Minter had been talking about the eligible men in the village a few days ago.

Daddy looked a little worried.

“Well, it’s complicated. Some of the explanation will have to wait until you are older, but I can give you two reasons now.” Daddy relaxed again, leaning against the back of the bench he had formed with his magic for us. “First of all, we all knew the end was coming, so I structured my life in such a way that didn't have room for re-marrying. Changing back to a lifestyle that has room for more than just us would take effort. Secondly, I promised your mother I wouldn't until you were grown, and you have a ways to go, darling.” He ruffled my hair a little.

I supposed that makes sense. I don’t remember my mom, she died when I was really little, but daddy always tells me how much she loved me.

Still, there was more to it. He said so.

“But there’s a third reason?”

He nods, slowly. “Yes, there is. And because of it, even if I did re-marry, I would never have another child.”

Daddy shifts forward, looking at me with mischievousness in his eyes.

“So, Sophia, would you like to learn something new?”

Would I!?

Rodin Everblaze

Her eyes light up like a candle, and she is burning with excitement once again.

It’s good to see her like this, ever since I… killed Timber; Sophia had been rather… subdued.

“Alright, now then, what I want you to do is cast a very familiar spell, but with one difference. The center is Sight, enhance it with Magic, but don’t add any limiters.”

She hesitates, I can understand, since I had drilled it into her at a young age that using limiters saves lives, but she does as I ask.

Her eyes glow orange, and she gasps. “It’s so colorful!” Even with her eyes glowing as they are, I can see her pupils darting around, trying to take everything in at once.

With a chuckle I follow suit, and behold the same things she is.

It is rather colorful, in a way. The shapes of things do not change, under this magical sight, but the color of everything is replaced. No longer is the grass green, but a hazy purple, reflecting some ancient spellwork that blankets the whole encampment. It ceases at the forest, where a yellow glow emanates from everything, the nature magic that fuels all life.

I can detect hints of the yellow nature magic inside the camp, but it is muted, and follows only in the wake of the purple.

As I look down, I see my own body, illuminated in the vibrant red that I have become so acquainted with. Next to me, Sophia glows her own orange.

The bench itself has a red tint, a testament to my spell that warped it from the dirt underneath our feet. In time it would fade, and only the most attentive would be capable of detecting it’s reddish shade to magical sight.

By the same token, I could see light shades of many colors all around us. The purple and yellow magic were only the most prominent, and the most widely cast. I could detect other auras all over the place, on various bricks and pieces of clothing or armor that must have been wrought from materials inside the buildings we commandeered.

Usually these traces didn't indicate active spells, it was just residue from spells being cast upon the objects in some ancient past.

If the signs weren't literally everywhere, I might have missed them.

All it really told me though, is that mages used to live here. Having heard from Discord that the ‘pony’ races all had some kind of innate magic, it was not hard to figure out what had happened.

Hell, Discord even said this used to belong to Celestia and Luna or something.

Thinking of Discord-

“Hey daddy, look at these!”

I turn to look, and smile. Tracing her finger along the ground, Sophia is following a silvery strand of magic.

I smile, the opportunity of giving a lesson easily presented. “Those are leylines.”

“What do they do?” She’s rather focused on following this one until she reaches the end of it.

“They are tiny veins of magic in the world. They flow everywhere, and permeate everything.”

“aww, this one disappeared.” Her tracing stopped , and I stepped over to her.

“Not really, see, the line just went below the surface of the ground.” I reach out and dig at the earth with my hand, revealing that the tiny string of silver continued below the surface.

She looks at me, stunned at the revelation. “Can we use them?”

I shake my head. “No, our magic doesn't use leylines of any kind.”

She looks thoughtful. “Are there more?”

I wave my hand in front of me. “There are trillions more, all around us. This one is big enough that you can see it, but most are too small to see without magical assistance.”

The spell that gives us magical sight, actually enhances our eyes a little too. If I cross my eyes, I can see the tiny silver fibers hovering in front of my nose.

“No! I mean, are there more than one kind!”

I love that girl.

“Yes. There are actually dozens of kinds back home, each one can only be used by wielders of a specific magic. Not all appear silver. For example…”

I fish around, looking for the little bits of light that weren’t silver, but anything I find turns out to be nothing more than magical residue.

It takes me a solid hour of searching before I admit defeat.

“Huh.”

“What is it?” Sophia had been patiently helping me search, despite not really knowing what she was looking for. This was almost troubling, considering that she would normally be clamoring for something new to do by now.

I shrug. The discovery was interesting, but mostly in an academic sense. “I think this world might only have one type of leyline. Imagine that.”

Samuel Weathers

Things are looking up again.

With the wolves dealt with permanently, I can send civilians along on forays into the forest again. There are still hazards, but there have been no further incidents.

Vern suspects that our presence has driven some of the larger predators away, and I hope he’s right, the last thing I want to deal with right now is hunting down some rabid bear.

With the extra manpower civilians bring, we’re able to both harvest enough food, and alleviate some of the boredom.

I discovered that the people have been taking the bones of the animals and started making toys with them. It’s a good idea; I just wish I had time to join in the games.

“We need to talk.”

That voice, it is one I have been missing lately.

“Hello, Patricia,” I respond neutrally, I am on duty, after all.

“How are things looking, dear captain? Any looming threats on the horizon?”

I sigh without restraint, I can guess why she’s here.

“You want me to lift it.” It isn't a question.

“I don’t know if you've heard, but there’s a god who’s going to look after us now. Somehow I think it’s about time.”

“We’re not out of the woods yet. Literally. The god wants us to stay in these woods until he returns. A lot of what he said implies that after he does, we’ll be going somewhere else.”

She gives me a look. “And you think that somewhere else is dangerous?”

“I have no reason to make any assumptions about it.” He’s a chaos god, it might very well be dangerous. “But he did say we’d be seeing a lot of these ponies soon.”

“You mean the same ponies that don’t like killing? How are you going to explain our living in a state of emergency, to ponies that don’t accept death?”

I hadn't thought of that. Would they care? Something tells me that if the ponies do have a military, it won’t be as experienced as ours. At the very least, we have a history of using violence to solve our problems. Yet, wasn't that what Discord was warning us against?

Still, her argument has flaws. “You raise questions I cannot answer, Patricia. What do you suggest I do, let everyone run amok in the forest? I have two guards in the hospital who currently are statues. We still don’t have a cure, and we still don’t know what did that to them. I cannot guarantee the safety of civilians outside the camp, and if I lift it, the first thing half of them will do is rush out the front gates.”

For the first time she frowns, considering my own words. At length she speaks. “Fine. We will wait until the god has moved us, but not much longer, husband. We women grow weary of our confines.”

She walks away, leaving me to finish my dinner in the barracks.

Alexander Birchwood

I awake in the middle of the night, by the sound of someone clearing his throat rather loudly.

I groan, getting out of bed and reaching for the striker to light a fire to see by.

“Yes, do you need something?” I ask, in the direction of the door to my room. If I’m being awoken, it likely means I’m needed.

“Oh not much, I just have a few questions for you.” The sound of someone snapping their fingers is heard, and my fireplace lights without my aid.

The light in the room is enough to see by, yet my doorway remains empty. I turn, and see that my visitor is lying where I used to be on my bed.

About to question him, the words die in my throat as I realize who it is. “D-Discord! Welcome back!” I drop to one knee in reverence.

“You know this bed isn't very comfortable. Have you tried clouds? Oh wait, this is the Everfree, it would fly away.” He sits up, eyeing me with a sort of detached interest. “So, Governor, what would you want from your magic, if you had some?”

The question caught me off guard. I had forgotten that he had mentioned that. “I think Rodin would better answer that question than I, to be honest.”

Discord waved a claw dismissively. “Then I’ll ask Everblaze next. What do you want from magic?”

I spend a moment to think about it, for I never really had before. What doors would magic open for us, that we couldn't open normally?

The power to win more battles?

Being harder to kill?

Didn't all the ponies have magic of some kind? One was weather manipulation, I do believe. That’s… useful.

So what would be useful? Is simple usefulness enough? Might as well try it, I've been silent for a while.

“I would like the magic to be useful to us.”

As Discord rolls his eyes, I hurriedly re-evaluate my answer. Unfortunately, my mouth continues to move.

“T-That is, to say, that the goal is to live among ponies peacefully, right? I-I’d just like the magic to help with that.”

The god’s eyes change from dry amusement to one of thoughtfulness. “That makes a measure of sense. Almost a pity. Now, how do you feel about cats?”

“Cats?” I echo.

“Cats.” He affirms.

Herbert Senthson

There isn't much to do but train.

I’d been out of commission for a short time, recovering naturally from inhaling a bit too much smoke, and various nicks and scratches I had gotten in the ‘Burning of Timber’ as we've taken to calling it. Apparently that was the monstrosity’s name or something.

Anyway, it wasn't enough to warrant a sacrifice on my behalf, according to Miss Winters, so I had been patched up with bandages and drank a vile-tasting potion or two.

After the god had showed up, things had slowed down. I actually slept through the event, a fact of which I am somewhat glad.

*thunk*

My arrow sinks into the target, making a satisfying sound as I hit what I aimed at.

It’s nice to see that despite everything, I still have a good arm and a good eye.

*thunk*

There’s this general feeling of apprehensiveness pervading the village. People aren’t all that confidant in this god’s good intentions.

I for one, am reserving judgment for when the god actually does something. So far, he’s just left us alone as far as I can tell.

*thunk*

That was my last arrow. I walk the length of the wall and approach my target. My every step is accompanied with a loud clanking noise as my armor makes itself known. We always train with it on; a fact which makes my life a little harder, even if it does make me a better warrior.

I retrieve my arrows, sliding them back into the quiver as I leave the make-shift training yard.

Its past noon, and I can feel the beginning rumbles of hunger that tell me it’s time for lunch.

As I walk past the gatehouse, a large creature that resembles a chimera phases through the wall, while studying something on a clip-board intently.

For a few moments, I’m frozen. What is that thing? As I stare at the creature, it notices me, and raises an eyebrow.

Before I can act, it speaks. “Well, I suppose you have an opinion as well?”

Stunned that this creature can actually speak, I respond without thinking, “An opinion on what exactly?”

It’s other eyebrow raises as well, giving it an intrigued expression. “Well, I’m taking a survey. What would you use magic for if you could do anything with it?”

The whole situation seems rather bizarre, but I figure that talking to it is better than attacking it or fleeing. So long as I keep talking, perhaps this won’t escalate.

“I would use it to enhance my senses, making me a better hunter and better able to protect my village.” As I think further, I figure that I could enchant the arrows to have specific effects too, but I don’t want to ramble. “So what brings you to our village?”

The creature grins. “Oh, I’ll let you figure that one out. You sure you wouldn't want to strike your enemies with lightning?”

I return the grin, “Well, I wouldn't say no to that, but I figure that if I can do anything I want with it, I might as well use it for things I already do. That way I don’t have to give up my life and become another Rodin.”

The creature gives me an honest smile, one that lacks any kind of hidden joke. “That’s the most helpful response I’ve gotten so far today,” he holds out a claw, and it takes me a moment to realize that he wants to shake hands.

As I do so, I realize that I've skipped a rather important introductory ritual. “I’m Herbert, by the way. What may I call you?”

His handshake is strong and steady, but not crushing or testing of my strength, which says good things about the creature.

“My name is Discord. Well, it’s been fun meeting you. Perhaps we’ll talk later, Herbert.”

My brain ceases all higher functions at the mention of his name. I am dimly aware of the fact that I am no longer shaking his hand, but it takes several seconds for me to return my hand to my side.

By the time my shock is over, and I have the presence of mind to be properly horrified by my actions, Discord is gone.

I am the luckiest man on this continent. I've survived experiences that should have killed me three times in the space of a week: Twice during the Burning of Timer, and now, failing to recognize our god for what he is.

Still, why would he just take it in stride like that? He’s supposed to be a chaos god, but he’s been nothing but forgiving of our continued disrespect. Wouldn't a god of chaos just care sometimes and not others? Or is my inexplicable bought of good luck just bleeding over into everything else?

I shake my head at my own foolishness. Surely, if Discord had wished me to act with more reverence he would have revealed himself first off, rather than approach me as he did. Then again, there’s no assurance that he makes decisions based on logic I would understand.

But does he know that we don’t know what he wants from us?

I make my way to the mess hall, resolving to simply let it lie.

After all, it’s not my job to solve these problems.

For that simple fact, I am glad.

Author's Note

Updates may not be as regular as I would like, but you can expect them to keep coming for the time being.

A minimum of once a week will be my goal for the coming semester.

On a side note, I'm curious to see if anyone can guess where I'm going with this whole 'magic' thing in the coming chapters.

Chapter 14: Favors and Loopholes

James Mender

“That’s enough for the night. You two can go home.”

Hayley and Devin give me a short bow of acknowledgement before leaving the building without any more comment than a sigh of relief.

It’s been a long day, but with the sacrifices patrols have been bringing in, we were able to release the last of our patients from the battle, so it’s been satisfying.

I made sure to send them straight to the captain so they could get caught up on recent events. After all, the fact that we have a god on our side is rather important news to know.

Of course, my little hospital is nowhere near empty. My four long-term patients still are waiting on a cure.

I gravitate towards the alchemist’s station. Now that we have women and civilians combing the forest again, I’ve been getting more than just the same set of herbs to work with. I’m not making as much progress as I’d like, but I’ve been successfully recreating most of the important staples a hospital needs.

Now I just need to find a cure for petrification.

“James! Just the man I was looking for!” an overly exuberant voice calls out to me, just as I reach my station.

At the door, Discord is snickering at some private joke as he enters my hospital.

I favor the god with a calculating gaze, careful not to glance towards my patients.

“To what do I owe the honor, great one?”

He taps a clipboard that he manifests out of seemingly nothing. “Oh just a few questions, if you don’t mind answering them.”

“I could,” I agree, “But I would like to ask a favor, while you are here.”

The god’s grin only widens. “Is that so? Care to make it interesting?”

I’m not exactly interested, “Why complicate it? An honest answer for a simple favor.”

“Oh hear me out, I need some excitement after that Rodin fellow nearly talked my ear off about his magic idea.”

… I decide not to mention that I had been helping Rodin flesh out that idea for the last few days, so I say nothing.

After a few moments of silence, Discord sighs. “Fine, questions first, then we’ll talk about the favor.”

I nod, that’s probably the best I’m going to get.

“So,” he says, putting on some sort of glass half-circles held by a wire frame, on his face, “What is your opinion on cats.”

I tilt my head at the seemingly out-of-place question. “Cats are small animals that hunt for their food. They are not sentient, and covered in fur. Some people find them to be good pets. I find them to be better sacrifices.”

Discord raised his glass-frames and gave me a disappointed look. “Really. Well, I would ask that you refrain from using anyone’s pet as a sacrifice when you can avoid it.”

I nod in agreement. It’s a good rule of thumb to go by. Though it’s kind of patronizing that he feels compelled to point it out.

“Next question. What do you call this thing that you do with the sacrifices?”

“Spirit Weaving.”

“What is your favorite kind of wood?”

“… Oak.”

“If I were to give you magic abilities, what would you want and why?”

“Regeneration and magically strong self-control. I would want humanity to possess regeneration so that my skills were not needed, and I want better control over the skills I already possess.”

Throughout the exchange, Discord is scribbling furiously on his clipboard with a quill.

“… and that’s it,” the clipboard and glass-frames vanish in a puff of smoke and Discord cracks his back rather loudly. “So, about the favor… Here’s my bet. I’ll grant you not just one favor, but five. You can spend them however and whenever you want, and only favors you deliberately ask me for count. Anything I do without you, James Mender, asking me to, won’t count against you. I bet that you will spend all five of them within a single year of today. If you don’t, I’ll grant you one more favor. If you do, you have to do a favor for me, one I know you won’t like.” Discord’s grin is infectious. “Of course, this is a friendly bet. I’ll refrain from twisting your favors against you if you refrain from abusing them too badly. And no granting multiple favors as a favor. That’s my sort of thing.”

It’s… a lot to think about.

On the one hand, making a bet with the god of chaos has ‘bad idea’ written all over it. On the other hand… this is five favors from a god we’re talking about here. That’s a valuable resource if there ever was one. It would make life so much easier, knowing that I could call upon him if I really needed to.

Then again… what could he possibly want from me as a favor? What could he ask of me that I wouldn't be willing to give, and that he couldn’t do himself? All I have to go on is that it’s something I won’t like…

“I’ll make that bet. It seems like I have little to lose and everything to gain.”

“It does seem that way, doesn't it.” Discord admits, looking thoughtful. He shrugs. “So what’s favor number one going to be?”

I gesture at my four patients. “I would like you to heal these four of their afflictions.”

Barely missing a beat, Discord floats over to where my long-term guests are clustered. He chuckles darkly at seeing the two statues; though he doesn't explain the joke. Instead of curing them first Discord begins examining my other two patients. I stand opposite him, wondering what he will do.

“Well this is a rather nasty piece of work.” He mutters.

“What is it? Neither Rodin nor I can detect whatever is keeping the wounds from healing.”

“I’m not surprised. Whatever made these wounds… well, let’s just say it was a… ‘god’ that must have done it and leave it at that.” Discord says somberly.

I get only a moment, to wonder how these two are still alive after making a god angry enough to strike them down, before he cracks yet another mischievous grin, “I have just the right tool to fix it, however.”

There is a snap of his fingers, a frown, followed by three more snaps, each accompanied by a bright light from the wounds of these two.

Their wounds vanish before my eyes, limbs regrown in an instant; as if they were never gone, only unseen.

With a casual glance over his shoulder and a flick of his tail, my two petrified guards begin turning back into flesh and blood.

My mouth starts to form words to thank him, when Discord’s claws snap a final time; with that last one I can feel all of my stasis spells shatter, like so much glass.

“Wha?!” The man nearest me sits bolt-upright and his eyes begin darting around, looking for danger that isn’t there.

I spend a fraction of a second confirming that, yes, Discord seems to have vanished, before attempting to calm down the four, blessedly whole, people who are all in some level of panic.

Leo Fisherman

I awake in a strange place, on a foreign bed, in some sort of large, stone building. The scent of old dust and blood is gone, replaced with the aroma of foul medicines.

Adrenaline fills my veins as my memory tells me that this is no place I am familiar with. I sit upright, one hand shooting to my waist, where I find a distinct lack of sword hilt.

“Wha?!”

To my right, I see Sir Winter, arousing from some slumber. She lies in a bed similar to my own, in fact, one of many that line the sides of this large room. Two more awaking men occupy beds farther down, and my eyes are drawn to the weapons and armor that adorn their sides.

To my left an old man with graying hair stands regarding me passively with an unreadable expression.

My eyes note the doorway, it is unguarded, but the man stands between me and freedom.

“I am glad that you are awake and whole again. Please, feel free to get up, but I must ask you to remain calm for the time being.” The old man intones in an easy voice.

The sound of bare feet hitting the stone tiles of the floor echoes lightly, as I see Sir Winter standing up, looking at me with concern and fear in her eyes.

“Is this the afterlife?” she asks the old man.

My mind is brought forcefully back to my latest of memories; the feel of that cursed blade cutting through one of my legs, and then my other. The rhythms of that madman’s laughter still rings in my ears.

Looking down, I can see that I am in possession of all my limbs again.

Is it true? Did she die with me there?

If so, then why did those two get to bring their weapons with them to the afterlife? I miss my sword already…

“No… Though it might as well be.” The old man speaks slowly and at a measured pace, as if he has all the time in the world, and wants to make sure he is saying exactly what he means to. “Mr. Cerill, Mr. Harvest, you've been out long enough to need debriefing. Please report to Captain Weathers immediately.”

As the old man addresses the ones in armor, I get up from the bed, testing my new legs. I didn't have long to miss my old ones, but being without them at all makes me appreciate them a bit more now.

“Yes, sir!” Both guards reply, before jogging out the building.

I exchange a look with Sir Winter. We both want to know what’s going on.

“Before you ask, let me make this very clear; we are no longer home.” The old man begins, sitting on a spare bed as he speaks. “We are, quite literally, on a different world than that we were born on.”

That… is disturbing. All sorts of ideas and theories fill my head, which I shake in frustration.

“… How?” I manage to ask.

“No one knows the specifics, but essentially… We lost.”

“Lost what?” Sir Winters asks, “Lost the battle?”

“The War.” He clarifies.

How could that be? The war was one in defense of all of creation. If we lost, then how would we even know-…

We’re on a different world.

“No…” I breathe, as my vision starts tunneling.

All of my friends, every member of my family, are dead. No, it’s more than just them; all of humanity is dead, along with every other life on our planet.

I can’t help but wonder if our gods survived the apocalypse…

NO!!

I hadn't noticed before, but now that I feel for it, my connection to the gods is gone! Severed! As if I had never formed that connection in the first place!

My eyes widening in panic, I grip Winters by the shoulders and demand her attention- I have to know!

“D- Do you feel it?” My gaze and hers lock, my panicked one meeting hers of shock and growing horror.

“No.” she whispers, her expression melting into one of sorrow.

The anguish at loosing such an intimate connection to our creators is compounded by not even knowing how or why we no longer have that connection in the first place.

Surely we have not fallen! I think I would remember that!

“So you were Paladins,” the old man states, making the observation without any trace of emotion.

“We were,” I manage to choke out. “Would you grant us some time to grieve?”

The old man considers this for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Someone should be grieving for what we have lost, though we have been too busy to do it. You have lost more than many of those here can claim to as well. I give you until tomorrow at noon, and ask that you do not leave this room. There is much that must be explained to you about this new world.”

With that, the old man opens some sort of passage in the wall and descends a staircase, leaving us to our tears.

Derik Nettin

Captain Weathers gave me the task of bringing the two once-petrified guards up to speed.

It’s actually kind of surreal, seeing how much everything has changed in such a short time. Not even a month has passed, and yet they need me to walk them through what amounts to a short class in our new responsibilities.

I point once more at the series of drawings that my superiors had supplied me with.

“These are all creatures that have sentience in this world. We are the strangers here, and this world apparently runs a little differently than we’re used to.” I pick up a particular set of drawings, depicting a chimera-like figure, and hand them to the two guards. “Memorize this image. This is the image of a physically present god that has befriended us. The Captain says that the god is effectively above him in the chain of command now, so you’d better know who he is when you see him, and give him the respect he deserves.”

As that sinks in, I fish around in my desk for a copy of another set of drawings. Handing them out to them I fix them each with an appraising glare. “These drawings show another entity that goes by the name ‘Fluttershy.’ The Captain has her marked as a VIP; our orders are to be capable of recognizing her on sight, and to guarantee the safety of her person as she is highly favored by the god. The Captain has stated to treat her as if she has the effective rank of a platoon leader, and you will follow that chain of command should the situation arise. She also happens to be highly placed in pony society, along with these other five. You are ordered to memorize all seven of them, and will cooperate with your platoon leaders to keep up to date on recent events and on any shift in policy regarding these individuals.”

Moving on, I point to a series of pictures representing the four pony sub-types. “These races are classified as friendly, and we are not permitted to use lethal force in dealing with them at this time.” I shift to the pictures that showcase diamond dogs and changelings. “In contrast, these are classified as hostile, yet we have standing orders not to engage unless provoked. Lethal force is permitted when engaging them, however.”

Grasping a final image, I indicate the griffon it depicts. “This is an image of a griffon. They are an unknown. They are dangerous and are to be avoided when possible. We are not permitted to use lethal force at this time.”

I double-check to make sure they each have a copy of each drawing, and send them off to meet with their respective squads.

Any further clarification should be covered by the platoon leaders, as per the tri-weekly session plan Vern drew up. With the way things are changing recently, we agreed that having a system for keeping the whole guard ‘in the know’ was worth the extra effort. Of course, it also meant that there was an extra occasion with which to hammer in some of those important details; details, which might make the difference between extinction and survival.

Angering a god tends to have those sorts of wide-spread effects.

A glance out of a nearby window shows that it is definitely night time, and I suppress a yawn.

These last few days have been pleasantly stressful, in the ‘paperwork’ sort of way. It’s a welcome change from the ‘fighting for your life’ sort of stressful, though it takes a hard toll on my sleep either way.

Of course, now I have a new problem; shifting around the squads now that two of our long-term injured have come back to active duty…

I bid the moon outside farewell as I settle myself down to focus on the paperwork.

Captain Weathers

The sun shines high above the horizon, bathing everything in its orange glow as the combination of civilians and guards musters before me.

Platoon leaders are giving the speeches we've drilled into them to the civilians and the women, telling them what would be expected of them in certain situations or emergencies.

I do not want another repeat of the wolf incident.

It does not take long, and soon enough the morning patrols are ready to head out.

I open my mouth to give the order-

“Well hello there Captain! Long time no see!”

I turn to face the owner of the voice, having already identified it.

“Hail, Discord!” I bark, dropping to one knee in salute.

“Hail, Discord!” With a decent portion of the guard behind me, following suit, the civilians present are no more than a heartbeat behind in their own greeting.

“You know, I could get used to that. But it might get old…Anyway, up, Captain! I have good news and bad news today!”

As I rise to my feet, I see that Discord’s expression is one of barely restrained glee.

I am unsure as to whether this is a good thing.

“Right. SO! Good news first! I've talked to my friends on the ‘other’ side, and got everything squared away. The afterlife is now equipped to properly deal with you guys. The bad news is that I had to take some of their problems off their hands for them.” Discord waved, and a dozen motes of light swirled around his paw. “I won’t bore you with the specifics, but this is the result.” He snapped his claw, and I averted my eyes in time to not be blinded by the flash of bright light.

What I see when I turn to look again causes several of my men, and nearly my own self, to burst into unashamed tears: Twenty-nine men, standing in a group, blinking as if disoriented. I recognize them all by face and name.

Hail Discord!

Author's Note

I went back and did a little math, finding that less than 1 month has passed since they first arrived in the Everfree.

What they've managed to reconstruct, like the paper they use, I'm chalking up as the result of keeping a population of hundreds sitting on their thumbs and a frantic Governor looking for productive ways to keep them busy.

Chapter 15: Preparing for the Inevitable

Rodin Everblaze

I had gotten up in time to share breakfast with Sophia, something I’ve actually had the time to do, recently.

But it’s looking like that luxury is being denied to me today.

In exiting the gatehouse, juggling both Sophia’s food and my own, I am forced to maneuver through a rather large crowd of guards. Many of these guards are stark naked, and I make sure to shield Sophia’s eyes as we move. I am not all that surprised; I’ve seen and heard of the sergeants coming up with some rather draconian punishments over the years.

It isn’t until after we made it through them that I realized that I recognized their faces.

Many of those faces I last saw twisted into visages of death, their bodies torn apart or crushed beneath their armor. Briefly, I relive those events, the smell of ash and blood returning to my senses. I shake my head.

Did I just hallucinate them? I wonder.

Turning, I see that they are very much real, and still very naked. Well, at least the view isn’t as awkward from behind, I think silently, grinning in spite of myself. A quick head count confirms my suspicions; there are more guards in that crowd than are supposed to be currently alive.

According to Samuel, we lost a significant fraction of our people in that battle and even more had been seriously wounded, yet Mender had pulled them through for us.

Apparently only around a third of the force that originally set out had returned conscious and ambulatory.

While I ponder this mystery, and continue to question whether or not I’m actually still in my bed dreaming blissfully, Sophia tugs on my hand and points behind me, away from the crowd of guards.

“Daddy, what is that thing?” she asks, voice full of curiosity.

Turning around quickly, I find that all my confusion evaporates at a familiar sight. “That is Discord, Sophia. He always looks like that.”

I’m somewhat surprised that she hasn’t seen him before, but I suppose it’s relatively easy to miss seeing a god if they don’t want you to see them.

‘The chaotic one’ is hovering near a small group of guards, headed by Samuel himself, if I’m not mistaken, and a small crowd of men and women, headed by our fair Governor. This easily explains the dead walking again; tales have told of the gods resurrecting fallen heroes, though the occasion is a rare one. It would seem that this is something our worlds have in common.

As I approach the god and the crowd, I catch the tail end of something that was probably important.

“Only one day?” Governor Birchwood is asking. “We’ll be hard pressed to get everything ready in so short a time.”

“As I said,” Discord mutters impatiently, “It’s out of my control, so do what you can. Moving forward! You humans need magic.” He snaps his fingers, and a bright light washes over us. “There, you have it.”

I look down, feeling for any differences in my magic. Nothing seems immediately apparent… so I quickly cast my sight spell, my eyes glowing their usual red.

As the world’s color twists into new hues, I can see right away what has changed. Normally my body is suffused in the reddish light of my aura, and that is the only color present in my body. Now, that aura is still there, but my skin shines with trillions of little pinpricks of light. Looking closer, each pinprick is of a different color, and isn’t even fixed. They shift around, flowing slowly in strange currents and eddies.

The strangest thing is that I feel no different.

Looking around me, I see that Sophia’s aura looks a lighter hue than normal, likely due to how her skin shines with her own pinpricks. From a little distance, they appear to mesh together to form a white light, yet combined with her orange aura, the effect is that of a light orange color wherever her skin or hair shows, and a familiar, darker shade of orange where her clothes cover her.

In examining the crowd, my suspicions are confirmed, as their skin and hair also shine with the pinpricks of light. It seems that we were all given this new magic, and yet Sophia and I have kept our Rune Calling as well.

Glancing at Discord-

Wow.

I can’t believe I’ve never bothered to look at him with my magical sight before… Where the Immortal I faced had a singular spark of Divinity in the eye that made up his being, Discord’s form is flooded with that golden energy.

And that energy burns.

Flames of radiant gold flicker away from the god in all directions, the waving tendrils of energy catching my eyes and my mind. I nearly can’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle, and have to force myself to disrupt my sight spell prematurely.

My eyes ache something fierce, and I can feel wetness around them. I think my eyes are bleeding a little bit… damn.

Carefully wiping away what indeed turns out to be blood, I do my best to focus on my original task, ignoring the worried looks I am receiving from the Captain. Well, worried for him equates to a raised eyebrow and a stony glance, but that’s just how he shows it.

“Well that’s certainly interesting,” I state, drawing the attention of the crowd. Till now they’d been awkwardly trying to see if they could use this new magic. “We all do have magic now.” I turn to Discord, trying on a hopeful smile and a pleasant query. “How do we use it?”

Something about Discord’s demeanor thus far had given me the impression that he’s rather upset about something; usually he’s more… laid-back than this. Or at least more jovial. My question seems to alleviate some of whatever was stressing him out, but unfortunately, his expression is now one of utter deviousness.

“Oh, that’s for you to figure out. It’s tradition!” He declares, before vanishing in a puff of bright blue smoke. Even as he disappears, what can only be described as the giggling of a god can be heard echoing away.

Well then. I have my work cut out for me. “Challenge accepted.” I mutter quietly.

To my surprise a scroll appears in front of me, which I catch out of reflex, juggling my breakfast which is growing colder by the minute.

The others look at it with curiosity, but I snap it open and quickly read it before anyone gets a chance to comment on it.

It’s a short message. When it’s over, I can’t help but groan at my own foolishness. Stowing the scroll, I turn and head back into the gatehouse, Sophia in tow. If I can work while we eat, I might be able to make progress before noon.

The Challenge: Learn the basics of your new magic, and name it, (make it a good name!) before 24 hours have passed.

Because you didn’t hear, we’re moving you all out of what remains of that castle tomorrow morning. Have whatever you want to take with you either on you, or in a wagon or something. Your new home will have a lot more space, but no existing infrastructure. Be prepared.

If you win, I’ll give you a present. If you lose… I teach Sophia some new runes… I think I’ll start with ‘Transform’!

Break a leg!

Samuel Weathers

There’s too much to do in too short a time.

I would personally love to let everyone have the day off, just to celebrate those who are returned to us. There was much rejoicing at first, but then I had to deliver the news that killed it.

I had taken a moment to appreciate the baffled and shocked look on Norton Fletcher’s face, apparently just hearing for the first time that we had gone to war as revenge for his death.

Personally, I had thought vengeance wasn’t the ideal motivator for a war, but we did need to eliminate that threat if we wanted to survive, and the council had spoken. Regardless of even my wishes, I could not go against the council.

Scattering the celebration and allocating work parties took the better part of an hour. We needed guards to go cut trees, haul the lumber, and guards to start fashioning them into carts. Thankfully I had lots of civilian labor; apparently Birchwood had anticipated my needs and sent the Woodwork family and a few others my way.

I had an unpleasant conversation about quantity over quality with them though. “I don’t care if they do break down after a few weeks of use, we only need them for a few days anyway! More than anything, we need as many carts as possible! Or are you volunteering to leave your equipment behind?”

They took some convincing, but they told me they’d see what they could do. As much of a pain it is to deal with civilian backtalk, I have to admit, their expertise made the process much easier than it might have been.

By this point, with the sun a few hours past noon, the camp’s been a flurry of activity for several hours. While Bill is directing efforts to tear down and store the more temporary structures, Vern is overseeing the mobilization of what food stores we’ve managed to stockpile in the last few days.

I have Derik overseeing the collection of what loose building materials we have left over, and cannibalizing what we can of the wall that rims our little castle. If nothing else, the raw materials should help jumpstart any building efforts when we get wherever we’re going.

As the sun passes noon, the first few carts are finished. As I watch, I realize that we’re going to have to get creative if we want to take the carts anywhere. We don’t exactly have beasts of burden to pull them for us.

Everywhere I look, I see guards and civilians working side-by side. Birchwood seems to have spread the word quickly and efficiently, nobody has even complained about the fact that we have to leave so far. I haven’t seen him for several hours, but I see the evidence of his work. The people labor with enthusiasm and good humor, focused on tearing down what has been their home for nearly a month now.

Ah. There he is. Our Governor is helping with the removal and packing of our furniture. Come to think of it, that’s a good idea. I don’t fancy sleeping on the ground while we make new beds all over again. I’ll have to do a little re-calculating on how we’re packing the caravan to make room for it all though.

Let’s see…

James Mender

Even while Haley and Devin are in and out of the hospital, packing and loading our stores of medicine and bandages, I sit on one of the few remaining pieces of furniture, not lifting a finger to help them.

The two former paladins sit across from me, on a cot. Despite their best efforts, I made sure they got some sleep last night. It would seem that their grief was all consuming, yet they had collected themselves by my time limit. I might have been impressed by their control, but I had already expected it for the most part. The tales surrounding paladins are inspiring, to say the least.

I am not overly surprised to find that our creators arranged to send two of them with us.

They had declined my offer of something to drink, so I drink my tea alone, the three of us forming an eye of calm in the organized chaos that otherwise fills our little village.

They are silent, waiting for me to begin. Collecting my thoughts, at length I speak. “Some several weeks before the end, you two appeared in our village, sent under the pretext of needing my skill in healing to mend your injuries. The task proved too great for me, yet no message I sent inquiring about where to send you next ever received a reply.” I take a sip, gauging their reactions. The man, seems lightly concerned, his brow furrowed, while the woman simply stares at me, silently commanding me to continue.

“So you remained in our village, heavily in stasis, with wounds that would not close, when the end came. We all expected to die. It was the natural conclusion of months and years of fighting a losing war against them. Our village was rather far to the northeast, and nestled among forest and plain; if they were coming for us then Wisdom was already lost.”

A flicker of emotion passes across the woman’s face. I might have pegged it as regret, but it was too quick. I could always just open my ‘eyes’ and read them like a book…but… no… that way lies ruin.

“All we know about what happened next was that everyone in the village and whatever they were holding at the time were picked up off of our world and planted in this one. The trip was disorienting, but the presence of the gods was still felt during it. I have no doubt in my mind that our gods saved us from the destruction of the world.”

The man seemed like he wasn’t that far off from openly weeping, and the woman too was suppressing tears.

Still they remain silent, waiting for my words. Hmmm.

“Now though, our gods are no longer with us, for this world is not theirs. When we arrived we were alone, though placed here among shelter and bountiful forest. The forest presented danger, but through luck and the actions of our guard, we persevered.” I raise my cup and drink; letting my shift in topic sink in a little.

“We have been here for approximately 21 days, and in that time we have drawn the wrath of an Immortal and then killed him, met with a physically present god, who then decided to claim us as his own, and generally tried our best to survive.”

The expressions on their faces amuse me, as it is good that sorrow has given way to incredulity. Unfortunately, they look like they don’t quite believe me.

“It was the god who healed you of your wounds at my request. And it is at the god’s request that we now gather our belongings, moving to a new home.” I pause, hoping to catch them off balance with my next question. “What caused those wounds of yours, by the way? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

The man opens his mouth to speak, but a glare from the woman silences him. He raises an eyebrow in return, and the woman’s expression slowly fades from one of warning to one of thoughtfulness.

Now I am impressed. Were it not for the vows a paladin swears, I might think these two were married. Silent communication is the hallmark of those who have work together often. Or they might be dabblers in magic that allows telepathy…

I wait for them to respond, my hope for a quick, spontaneously truthful answer shattered.

“A man, wielding an unholy blade, which he claimed was forged by the gods,” the woman says evenly, she’s either devoid of feeling or skillfully suppressing her emotions on the matter. “He possessed a dark power, which proved too much for us and our companions, and he cut us down. His blade shorn through our own like they were so much butter. We both lost consciousness before the fight ended.”

It sounds to me like this was some sort of holy quest, yet they did not seem to want to give me details. Actually, some of the legends surrounding paladins suggested that they are sworn to secrecy more often than not. Which raises the question of how the legends spread in the first place… Hm… Rodin would appreciate that irony.

“I see,” I reply. “All things considered, the truth of the matter is that our village has stayed together in this new world because we are bound by bonds of family and duty, not to mention the demands of survival. However, things are looking up again, and you two have no true obligation to help us. Should you wish to leave and explore this world, that choice is yours. I only ask that you speak first to Captain Weathers, as he can give you a short lesson on the other races that exist here, and what we know of them through the god. If you wish to join the last of humanity in re-building, however, I’m sure the Captain has a place for you in the guard if you want it.”

That being said, I show the two ex-paladins to the door of my hospital, and start helping my assistants with the preparations.

Katharine Winter

The man in front of us is a little taller than average, and solidly built. He wears his armor even now in the heat of the day, as if expecting an attack at any moment. His eyes carry the weight of his years, but they carry them with strength and determination. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was looking at a fellow paladin.

“I don’t have the time for this,” the man growls at us, “make yourselves useful or scarce. Once we’re underway I might have time do debrief you.”

I frown, but am willing to admit that mine and Sir Fisherman’s need for information on this world do not come before his duty to his people. So we will have to wait.

I am rather conflicted. On the one hand, for the first time in my life, nothing is tying me down, and no one wants anything from me. Nothing guides my steps but my own will, for the gods are as far from us as they can be.

I inwardly wince, as that wound is re-opened slightly, and push my thoughts in a new direction.

What would be the point of wandering, anyway? Sightseeing? Bah. At least here there is an obvious common goal to strive for. Survival. With humanity diminished to just these few hundred lives… I can think of worse lives than one protecting the future of humanity.

This moment feels charged, as if I have only seconds to make this choice for the rest of my life… Leo’s life too, come to think of it. He always did follow my lead…

Turning to him, I can see that he looks to me for direction even now, with our powers striped from us and our lives shattered. I’m as lost as he is… but perhaps we can find purpose here.

After all, we have nothing left to lose but our lives.

My decision made, at least for now, my gaze returns to meet that of the Captain. “Point us to where we can help, Captain.”

Author's Note

I am a horrible judge when it comes to analyzing my own work. Which is why feedback is good.

What works and what doesn't? Does anything seem overly forced? Are the characters believable? Are the transitions between viewpoints easy to keep up with? I have all these questions...

Chapter 16: Of Diplomacy and Other Words

Herbert Senthson

The sun has yet to rise, and so I have yet to sleep. My bow rests on my back, but in my hands is my spear, as I cast my eye across the ravine.

Everything is peaceful. This is a good thing. When things get to exciting, people die. My job is to make sure it’s the other people, not us.

Even if I didn’t have the night shift, I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. In spite of the long day of hard work, scavenging, packing and loading, I’m restless. I’m disciplined enough not to let it show, but I keep turning over what’s been happening.

Discord’s going to take us somewhere else to live. I somehow have magic now, even if I haven’t the slightest clue how to use it. Rodin certainly hasn’t told us anything, and I hear he’s been working furiously at it all day long.

In all honesty, I’m frightened. This is a lot of change we’ve been going through recently, and now our very bodies aren’t what they used to be. I’m a magical human now. We all are. What might have changed?

I almost don’t want to know. Ignorance is bliss… and yet, what we don’t know can and will hurt us.

My gaze sweeps across the ravine and the forest beyond once more. I’ve been living within a stone’s throw of that forest for a while now, and even have spent my fair share of time patrolling in it. So why does it still scare me? Something about the shadows between the trees are downright threatening! It’s practically impossible to relax around it. I only really feel safe when I’m in inside a building. With no windows.

I suppress a shudder, willing myself to ignore the fear. There really isn’t any point in dwelling on it, and I don’t have much of a choice but to be out here; orders are orders.

Even so. That forest is unnatural.

I should not be afraid of you, I think at the shadowy trees. They ignore me.

I can still feel that little worm of doubt and suspicion worming its way into my mind though. It’s almost like something is trying to make me afraid of the forest. I snort in derision. I’ve tasted death and spoken with gods. I refuse to fear you!

Having worked myself into an angry glaring contest with the forest, I ignore my hands itching beneath my gloves as I remain resolute in my defiance.

What’s this? My eyes widen in surprise. That worming fear just stopped.

The shadows beneath the trees seem for once to be nothing more than bits of shade. I feel not even a hint of apprehension. Did it really just give up? Flee? A vicious grin graces my face. Whatever it was had better run! You don’t mess with us.

“Well, well, well. Look at you!” I turn and see a shape entering my torchlight. Oh look, it’s Discord. “How have you been holding up, Herbert?” The chimera gives me a smile, but his eyes betray mischievousness.

I shrug, not a simple matter in armor, it turns out. “I’ve been doing well. I hear you’ve been rather busy though. I must admit, having the guard back up to strength is a real boon.”

He waves a claw dismissively. “That? I suppose. It was return them to life or make them ghosts or something. I thought they’d like living again better.” He sound’s smug, as if he’s proud of correctly deducing which they would prefer.

Something feels odd about this whole situation. As if there’s something I’m forgetting. Something important.

“So anyway, do you think I can borrow you for a few minutes? I’d hijack the Governor again, but I did that last time.”

“I don’t see why not.” As I speak the words, I frown slightly. I’m abandoning my post, just like that? I feel a sense of obligation to stay, as it’s my job… but I’m missing something…

Bah. The village will be fine for a few minutes. What’s the worst that could happen?

Any further thought is interrupted, as Discord snaps his fingers and we vanish in a flash of light.

When the light clears, I find myself standing in a throne room. That’s the best I can figure, given the large ornate chair with a dark blue pony sitting in a chair.

Recognition fires in my brain as bits and pieces of what I’m looking at match up with my lessons and sessions spent memorizing the descriptions of important figures in this new world. The presence of both wings and a horn, the coloration, the crown on her head. This is Luna, one of the ‘princesses’ and another physically present god.

That’s it! Grinning, I snap my fingers in celebration, as I realize what I was missing earlier. Discord’s a god! He could end my life in an instant, and so could this pony. So why don’t I care? I felt satisfaction that I had figured out what I was forgetting, but nothing else.

“Greetings Discord,” Luna begins, her voice is soft, yet commanding, and she looks at me with an expression I cannot place. “What brings you here with… him?”

Discord approaches the throne without a care in the world. “Why, I’m here to fulfill an obligation! You did require me to run their magic by you, after all.”

“So, what, I’m a test subject?” I ask, crossing my arms, somewhat offended.

Discord looks wounded. “Of course not! I would never- well, perhaps I would, but it isn’t the case here! You’re just the first to make any progress with it, and were awake when I needed someone.”

I’m somewhat amused that he’s bothering to defend himself. He’s a god, he can do what he wants. The amusement is apparently visible on my face, as Luna snickers.

“Right. Okay, fine. But I don’t know what you’re talking about; I haven’t felt so much as a flicker of magic yet. Figuring it out is Rodin’s job, not mine.”

Luna chooses this moment to step off her throne and approach me. Despite having the sudden attention of a god, I feel little more than curiosity as to what she wants. She doesn’t leave me in the dark for long. “May I? I wish to behold what Discord has wrought.”

I idly speculate that letting her work magic on me could be hazardous to my health, but hey, if she wanted to hurt me I couldn’t stop her anyway. “Do whatever.”

Her horn lowers a bit and glows as she rests it lightly on my forehead. For several long seconds, nothing seems to be happening. Then she opens her eyes and pulls away. Her expression is one of extreme exasperation.

“Really, Discord? How is this a good idea?” She demands of the ~~chimera~~ god, I remind myself.

“What’s wrong with it? Seems straight forward to me.” He claims, the picture of innocence.

“I am not even... look.” Luna begins, deadpan, “We know you aren’t going to take over again, but this is not a good way of showing it. If it wasn’t focused in his hands right now, he’d be leaking chaos all over the place!”

“Hey! Give me some credit; you saw for yourself what that’s for, and the guidelines I’ve set. It wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He argues, his air of innocence discarded like a mask.

“I feel like I’m being left out here.” I speak aloud, though the two beings ignore me.

“Any unicorn worth their bits will sense it! How do you think that’s going to go over?” Luna continues.

“They’ll laugh and smile, and invite each other out for a day of ‘harmless fun!’” Discord proclaims with joy and a fireworks display, and then deflates a little and gives Luna a half-lidded stare that projects his irritation with the fact that his next words have to be serious. “Though not at first, perhaps. I might have soiled their outlook on it, but hey, Ponyville’s getting used to me! Sensing a little chaos magic should be much easier to get used to.”

“Seriously, what did you mean by ‘Focused in my hands’?” I ask nobody in particular, looking down at my gloves. My hands do itch a little, but other than that, I feel nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps it’s underneath the gloves?

Frowning, I’m paying half-attention to their argument as I work. Now that I’m thinking about it, the itching is getting a little irritating.

Luna sighs, raising a hoof to massage her temples. “I’ll admit that what you’ve done is… quite frankly, genius, but…” She grasps for words.

“But you were hoping I’d do things your way.” Discord supplies; his voice lacks the accusation in present in his words, though Luna looks slightly cowed anyway. “Do not forget what I am, Luna. ‘Reformed’ does not mean ‘tamed’.”

I swear something passed unsaid between them, but whatever moment that was there is gone faster than I can truly process.

“Is there something ‘going on’ between you two?” I ask them. I can’t help but wonder where my sense of self-preservation has gone, but all the same, I feel safe. They won’t hurt me.

My glove finally works its way off my hand, and I begin working on the other. Luna glances down at my bare hand and snorts, looking away and hiding her expression.

Discord just grins at me and answers my question. “Obviously, yes. But whatever you think it is, you’re wrong.”

I let out a short laugh, and look down to see what’s taking so damn long to get my other glove off. If that’s how he wants to play it…

When did I get a tattoo?

As both my hands are free of their itchy constraints, I can’t help but notice that the back of my hands have changed. On each hand lies the image of a lion roaring, baring its teeth, though it’s entirely done in red ink.

“Okay, what the fuck, Discord. I have tattoos on my hands. Did you do this?”

At this point Luna’s attempt to hide her expression is proven useless as she erupts into laughter, practically falling over as she fights to control herself.

“I told you it would be brilliant!” Discord announces, before turning back to me. “Technically, no. You did that to yourself.”

I look back down. “This is the magic you gave us? Putting tattoos on ourselves by accident? Can I remove it?” I ask aloud, trying to focus my thoughts to figure out how I was going to get these things off.

To my utter surprise they faded away not a second later.

“Huh.”

I return my gaze to the two beings in front of me- to the two gods that I had just cursed out and implied were ‘together’ in more ways than- holy shit I am so dead!

My heart starts racing and my eyes scan the room, locating each exit, but dismissing them as possibilities. Realizing that I might as well be cornered and weaponless, despite the bow that still rests on my back, I finally meet Discord’s gaze and freeze, silently pleading for my life.

Discord sighs resignedly, and in a heartbeat he’s next to me, laying a claw on my shoulder and sitting us both down onto a bench made of what looks like sickeningly yellow plumes of smoke.

“Alright, enough of that. You’ve been such a good sport; I’ll explain what just happened. Long-story short, your magic sort-of-not-really grants you certain wishes temporarily. At the forest, you wished really hard to not be afraid, and your magic literally let you not experience fear. You stopped fearing the forest, you stopped fearing me, and you certainly stopped fearing any retribution stemming from your actions.” I just stare at him, dumbfounded. Did he plan for this?

“No. I didn’t plan for it. It was a happy coincidence. There’s a lot more to it, but you have to figure most of it out for yourselves. I will tell you that it takes much less effort for you to discard the things you wish for than it does to wish for them in the first place. That’s just a safety measure. Don’t want to get stuck. Though that would be hilarious…” He muses, out loud.

Off to the side, Luna is recovering from her fit of mirth. I can’t help but feel resentment for being laughed at, combined with relief that she’s amused instead of furious.

It takes me a moment to realize that Discord just read my mind.

“Yes, well, I don’t normally do it, but you don’t talk much.” He admits openly.

“I-I’ll work on that t-then.” I stammer, terrified of the raw power present in the two beings beside me.

“You know, this is why we don’t like to call ourselves gods.” Discord sighs.

Luna sobers up in an instant. “He knows?”

Discord nods. “They all do. I’m lucky they haven’t asked what sort of sacrifices I like yet. Haven’t exactly given them much of an opportunity, but still.”

Luna flattens her ears. “It was well worth the effort, purging that word from living memory. It took over two thousand years and all the subtle maneuvering we could muster, but we did it. Please tell me your humans are not about to reintroduce it?” She actually sounded sad there. And that question actually had elements of hope and fear in it…

What.

They don’t want to be served as gods?

This world is really different. I mean, hells, aren’t gods supposed to not have physical bodies normally? But what do I know, I’m no priest.

“I’ve been discouraging it, but I’ll be more up-front about it soon enough. Trust me, their fear is useful, but even I would prefer it they abandoned that particular habit.” Discord sighs. “All things in due time.” He glances out a window and gestures to Luna. “You’d better go wake your sister, princess. We need to be getting back anyway.”

Luna nods in agreement. “Very true. I imagine she and I will have much to discuss. I give you my approval though.”

Discord simply grins, waves, and snaps his fingers in farewell.

When my eyesight clears again, I find that I am standing at my post once again, my shift not even over yet.

Could it be that my absence will go undetected?

It would seem so…

“Anyway.” Discord says to me, and I jump a little at being directly addressed by the god. I know he doesn’t like that I am afraid, but there isn’t much I can do about it!

“I would ask you not to tell Rodin about what you know, but he’s just about out of time anyway, so I don’t think it matters anymore.” I nod, agreeing even though I have no clue what he’s talking about.

As I watch, the sun starts to peek over the horizon, unfortunately this draws my gaze to the forest, and that familiar fear makes itself known again. I shudder, now knowing that the fear was never truly gone, I had just shielded myself from it somehow.

With magic.

“Herbert…” I glance at Discord in surprise. I’d have thought he’d have made an exit by now. Instead he looks vaguely anxious about something. This in turn spikes my own blood pressure, as a being of power with any kind of negative emotions carries a subtle sort of threat.

“Yes?” I ask, careful to keep my voice neutral.

“I’m…” he furrows his brow together. “Sorry if that offended you. I thought you’d get a kick out of the whole thing, to be honest.”

He doesn’t like fear… Be honest! No cowardice! “In hindsight, some parts were funny. But there’s a large difference between the way our home worked and the way this world does, and it takes getting used to. Old habits are going to die hard.”

I seem to have restored a measure of his good mood as he cracks a grin. “Well, at least you’re making progress, Herbert. I’ll see you around.”

With that, he fades away until there’s no trace of him.

Shaking my head, I collect my things and head towards the barracks, ready to commit to paper what will probably be the longest watchman’s log I will ever write.

Captain Weathers

The sun shines above the horizon. Again. Just yesterday, we had been given 24 hours to pack, and I’m proud to say that we did it.

It wasn’t easy, and I know a lot of good people who barely slept… but come morning we’re ready to go.

Discord arrives with fanfare this time, surprising me at least. I had been expecting something more subtle than a chariot pulled by some sort of artificial, see-through bears. They almost looked edible.

As he arrived, he floated out from the chariot lazily, as it went careening off to the side and into the ravine. I found it kind of funny, actually.

Suppressing a laugh, I watch as he approaches Rodin with an expectant look on his face. “Well?” he asks him.

Rodin returns with a grin of his own, and displays the back of his hands.

Since when did Rodin have matching tattoos on the back of his hands?

On his hands, there were little images I found it hard to make out from this distance. Coming closer, I could see that it was reminiscent of a disembodied brain against a background of sparks. Discord seemed to be watching him intently. Rodin, for his part, had his eyes closed in concentration.

Before my eyes, the tattoos vanished from sight… only to be slowly replaced by… a knife?

When the picture solidified, Rodin snapped open his eyes and held out a hand to me expectantly. Wordlessly, I drew a knife and handed it to him.

Immediately he started twirling it up and around his fingers, as if he was born with it there in his palm.

My eyes widen in alarm.

Is this the power of our new magic? Instant skill?

Rodin stopped his silent little display abruptly, wincing. He hid it quickly, but I noticed that he had cut himself. So, not infallible skill… but still skill. With a flick of his wrist, the knife extended towards me hilt first as he offered it back to me.

I take it and sheath it. Whatever this was, it’s over now.

Discord looks simultaneously impressed and disappointed. “How?” he asks.

Rodin’s grin falters as he takes note of the god’s disappointment. “Mender discovered the marks last night, and came to me with them. With enough experimentation, we identified a few common themes in how they work, and have a working theory on how to think to get what you want out of it.”

“And the name?” Discord asks.

“Focus Magic.”

Discord just stares at him, his expression pained.

Slowly, the god reaches a paw forward, turns it claw-side up, and face palms. Hard. “I knew I should have done that part myself,” he mutters.

Author's Note

This chapter is the product of a day in which I experienced a distinct lack of all the normal obstacles that get between me and writing. Enjoy.

Chapter 17: The Chaos Capital of Equestria

Captain Weathers

Setting out was a simple affair after Discord had finished up with Rodin. There had been some magic involved, but I wasn’t privy to that conversation. Perhaps I would ask Rodin about it later.

We actually spent several hours last night just making all the rope we needed. With the absence of beasts of burden to pull for us, we are going to have to pull the caravan by hand and tether.

The forest is thick. Enough so that our patrols have to take it slow; getting these huge, bulky carts through it would have been a nightmare, yet Discord came through for us. He’s at the front of the caravan, turning trees into little more than sawdust.

I can’t actually see what he’s doing to them, seeing as how I’m much farther towards the center of the caravan, but the continual crunch of wood beneath my boots, and the periodic muffled explosion is enough evidence for me.

Word of mouth tells me he’s laughing like a maniac and cracking jokes as he does it too. I’d almost feel sorry for the trees, but they grow back. No matter how much we harvest from the forest, it’s all regrown in a day or three. It’s kind of eerie, but Rodin keeps telling me it’s natural. Somehow.

Thanks to the path being rather enthusiastically cleared for us, it’s not as slow going as I feared. We are hindered only by our endurance and speed. I made sure there was a rotation going on the carts, and sent Bill to make sure the end of the caravan kept pace.

It would seem that, thanks to the noise, the presence of so many, and the god, the wildlife has decided to leave us more or less alone. Even so, each cart has at least two armed guards ready for anything. Its left us spread rather thin, I admit, but it’s better than leaving civilians exposed should something happen. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the very shadows of the forest seeming to threaten our flanks… I hate fear spells.

All that’s left is the several hours of marching through this cursed place…

“Captain?”

Its Mender’s old patients, I see. I remember them from yesterday when… I promised to debrief them on the march.

Right.

It’s interesting, seeing new faces though. Living in a small town, I see the same set of people every day. Granted, I couldn’t tell you half of the civilian names, but I never really tried to learn them anyway. These two don’t carry themselves like civilians though.

I can vaguely remember the night they showed up, already wounded, and placed in Mender’s care. With them was nothing but the clothes on their back, and those had had to be burned they were so filthy.

Of course, I knew this through paperwork, mostly. Now that I get a good look at them, I’m impressed. The man is shorter than most, but is very well built, and walks with confidence. I notice his eyes are blue, something uncommon, but insignificant, and he has some well-trimmed, dark brown hair that hints of a preference for efficiency. The woman, is similar in some respects. She looks exceedingly fit for a woman, someone obviously trained for battle, which wasn’t common a hundred years ago, but what really catches my attention is her blond hair. It’s not exactly rare, but it does indicate that she or her ancestors come from one of the eastern kingdoms.

Their clothes are of decent quality, unlike the rest of us, which really only tells me that they’re still wearing the clothes they arrived in, which apparently haven’t fallen apart from heavy use yet. We’ve been making and repairing clothes, but we don’t exactly have a lot to work with in the forest, and we only bring in so much game for animal hides. Clothing over 300 people has been a challenge that I am glad was someone else’s problem. My problem was outfitting dozens of guards in heavy metal armor…

Hmm… come to think of it, these two have all the right muscles in all the right places… They’ve been trained to fight in the heavy stuff! I mean the really heavy armors that cost a fortune.

They don’t seem to have any of the mannerisms common to the nobility… Adventurers then. The only other way I can think of to afford that kind of armor is adventuring.

By this point I’ve been studying them silently for a long time as we walk, and they’ve been returning the favor.

“What are your names?” I ask.

“I am Katharine Winters, and this is Leo Fisherman.” The woman speaks for them both it seems.

Leo looks up at her, surprise and a little confusion in his eyes, but a glance from her silences him.

“I am Samuel Weathers, Captain of the Guard. Now that we have the time, I am free to answer your questions.” I reply evenly. These two seem friendly enough, but they obviously are dangerous.

“First, the Healer said we were free to go, is he right?” the women says cautiously.

I’m glad Rodin isn’t here. He’d probably say ‘no’ as a joke and cause an incident.

“Yes. For your information, the god has made a deal with humanity, he represents us as we represent him now. He doesn’t require much of us, but part of the deal is not to make deals with other gods without consulting him. You may go wherever you wish, just be careful who you deal with.”

The woman shook her head. “I more wanted to know if we were prisoners. I believe I will stay here for a time. Are there any openings in the guard for two experienced fighters?”

A small smile is all of my amusement that I allow to show.

“We always have room in the guard, though you must go through the same training as everyone else. Report to Sergeant Vern Leonard for training as soon as we settle in wherever we’re going.” The man looks displeased with the prospect of going through training again, but raises no objections. I don’t think I’d enjoy getting kicked back to basic either to be honest, but for these two it’s more about becoming familiar with the command structure we use. They need to learn to take orders; I know some adventurers struggle with that.

“You are dismissed, recruits.”

Rodin Everblaze

Finally the march is over. After heading northeast all day, we finally break through the tree line.

The place we’ve emerged from the forest at is interesting. At least, interesting in the fact that nothing is here.

Part of me expected some sort of large land mark we’d have been shooting for, but all I see is an expanse of gently rolling plains, with a few copses of trees scattered around. The grass reaches up to our shins as it waves gently in the breeze. It’s a very peaceful scene.

As I look back at the forest, I am struck by how abruptly the forest ends. It’s all trees and undergrowth and then… nothing.

Curious, I cast my magic sight spell as the carts go rumbling past me, one after another.

That’s new.

The yellow nature magic of the forest that I know so well is present, right up until where the forest stops. Then an invisibly thin, smoky brown haze is present, obscuring nothing, but permeating the plains as far as I can see. The grass doesn’t even shine with the normal faintly yellow shading, as it might were the brown just obscuring the nature magic. No… This new magic is what grew the grass in the first place…

Disturbing. What could replace nature magic?

At least I can guess why the forest stops there. The two magics don’t seem compatible, so they remain separate somehow... But why is the border between them so straight? If they were competing for space it should be more variable.

Dismissing the spell, I return my focus to the caravan. I can sate my curiosity later. I have no official duties to perform here, aside from simply being prepared to help repel any attacks, but I still look for some way to help.

It would seem that this is our destination for some reason. Discord isn’t leading us anywhere, just waiting while the carts continue to roll out of the Forest of Watchful Shade. Or the Everfree. Whatever we’re calling it now.

Instead he’s manifested a huge map and is pouring over it. Curious, I approach him, hoping to catch a hint as to where we’re going. The map looks foreign, yet the words are familiar to me.

If he’s made it in words I can understand, he doesn’t care if I read it, right?

It’s a large map, covering unfamiliar geography. If I had been harboring any suspicions that this world was actually our own somehow, this dispelled them. Those mountains are entirely unfamiliar, as are the positions of all those lakes and rivers. At least I think that’s what they are… Do they have rivers connecting their cities? Will we need to build boats if we want to travel?

My eyes catch sight of a medium sized patch of greenery labeled ‘Everfree F.’ right next to a small town labeled ~~‘Ponyville’~~ ~~‘Intercontinental Chaos Capital’~~ ‘Fluttershy’s Place’.

Right…

“Got it!” Discord exclaims, seemingly talking to nobody in particular. He manifests a long paintbrush, dripping with what looks like red paint. A ways east of ‘Fluttershy’s Place’, next to the greenery, he draws a large circle. Glancing at the legend of the map, I let out a soft whistle. That’s quite the plot of land. It even crosses into the Everfree for a bit.

Somewhere in the distance, I can hear rumbling. Idly, I turn my head in the direction of the sound. In the distance, some sort of massive object is sliding across the horizon. It’s a familiar object too.

No way…

My eyes darting between Discord’s hand and the horizon, the two paintbrushes are identical, except for the scale, right down to what must be the thousands of gallons of red paint, dripping off of it…

Ok. Now I’m impressed. That is one way to mark out a territory. One readily obvious, unmistakable, way.

“Well that’s that.” Discord says, turning to us and arresting my attention. The last of the carts roll out of the forest as he addresses us. “Here you are! You’ve got plenty of room to build houses and farms and whatnot. Though I wouldn’t try crossing the border until the paint dries, if I were you. No telling what you might find out there…” He actually turns his head into the distance and scowls at the rolling hills. It’s amusing enough that I have to cover a smile.

His theatrics are growing on me, I think. Why be serious when you can make light of something? So long as you accomplish your goals either way, it can’t hurt, can it?

Still. I think I’ll be taking his words seriously, even if his demeanor does put me at ease.

Nobody seems to have anything to say, though some look like they wish to. Discord doesn’t seem to want to stick around waiting for them to work up the nerve though. “Well, if that’s it, I’ll leave you to it for now. Planning for the future can wait until later. If something happens, light something on fire, I’ll keep an eye out for the smoke.”

Before I can decide whether or not he’s joking, Discord is snapping his fingers and vanishing. The prospect of burning something again makes me wince a little. I still remember how my feet felt after Timber… That won’t stop me though. Burning things is in an Everblaze’s blood.

Come to think of it, I’m lucky Sophia hasn’t caused as many incidents as I did at her age… Perhaps it has something to do with the whole ‘End of the World’ thing?

Looking around, I can spot her in the crowd, standing with the few other kids her age in the village. That reassures me some. She should spend time with others her age while she can.

Before long, the people have shaken off the lethargy that seems to cloud their minds whenever Discord is around. Smiling ruefully, I shake my head at the folly of my people. I can certainly understand the fear of angering him, but I can take refuge in the knowledge that he has made a deal with us. Even trickster gods tend to honor their deals.

With the resumption of productive activity comes the need of the leadership to guide our efforts. In short order, Samuel and Alexander have us working on building our new home.

Rainbow Dash

“Rainbow Dash! Wake up!” A voice pierced my dreams and hauled me back to the waking world.

“Huh, Whazzat?” I mutter, sitting up on my low-flying cloud and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Below me, Twilight is fixing me with a worried look. “What’s up Twi?”

“Discord did something big east of Ponyville.”

I frown as my sleep-addled brain plays catch-up. There isn’t much important straight east of Ponyville; it’s all a bunch of forests and meadows until it gives way to the mountains near the coast, or the more arid desert climate to the south. Certainly no cities in that direction. So why would Discord’s screwing around with some landscape again be an issue? He’s allowed, the princesses had said, so long as he puts it back when he’s done.

Oh wait, I remember after a moment, Discord’s in charge of the humans now, or something. Twilight had written quite the hoof-full of letters in discussion with the other princesses in the days after the two of them had gotten back from the fires in the Everfree. Twilight had wanted to do something about the humans, but apparently Discord was handling it, and we weren’t to venture into the Everfree for a while.

Discord’s pretty powerful, so I figured he could handle himself. Of course, if he’s now doing big stuff in the middle of nowhere… could the humans be involved?

“What do you think he’s doing?” I ask.

“I don’t know. What you told me about,” she shudders, “the human’s sacrifices has me… concerned. Anyway, he outlined a huge region with red paint and I can sense a lot of chaos inside it.”

That was somewhat concerning. I’m no egghead, but wasn’t chaos generally a bad thing? And if Twilight’s worried about it, I should be too.

“So what should we do?”

“It’s a little early to jump to conclusions, why don’t we round up the girls and go investigate?”

I nod in agreement, stretching my wings in anticipation. “I’ll grab Applejack and Fluttershy.”

“Have them meet at the library.”

Twilight Sparkle

“Why’s it such a big deal, Twilight?” Applejack spoke up, “It’s not like anyone lives out here er nothin’. Except for the animals.” She amended, after Fluttershy shot her a look.

I can’t help but frown in concern at the situation. “Well, it wouldn’t be such a big deal, except for the fact that he’s affected a fairly large region, and it hasn’t gone away yet.” One of the terms of Discord’s release had been that, while he could use his chaos magic, he had to undo any large changes, and had to be extra careful where ponies’ lives and livelihoods were concerned. The fact that it hadn’t gone away in the last two days actually did warrant some kind of investigation.

“And she wants to see these humans for herself,” Rarity points out.

“If they’ve left the forest, I’m within my rights to visit!” I return, “Being a princess, I have a duty to make sure that Equestria isn’t at danger from these humans, if they’re there.” I still have trouble reconciling the old mythological creatures from old mares tales with these wielders of fire… And the whole sacrificing thing… I haven’t studied dark magic enough, having a healthy fear of the stuff, to know what kind of power Discord might be getting from these humans’ practices. It’s concerning, to say the least.

At the same time, the many letters I’ve been exchanging with the princesses repeat though my mind. They had been particularly insistent that we trust Discord with this matter, no matter how many doubts I have putting a spirit of chaos in charge of a mission of harmony. “Besides, we’re going to have to meet them eventually. No use putting it off.”

“Shouldn’t we be let’n them come to us though?” Applejack persists.

“Oh, this isn’t an official visit or anything. We’re just are making sure that whatever Discord’s doing in there isn’t worth panicking over.” I state with confidence.

“I’m touched, really.” A familiar voice drawls.

A few feet forward, at the top of the rise, stands the spirit in question with that perpetually amused expression of his.

Even after so much time, and with the enhanced senses of an alicorn, I’m still surprised at how he can sneak up on me while radiating all that chaos magic like some sort of beacon.

“Please, Twilight Sparkle, come take a look at ‘what I’ve done’.” He says, gesturing to the space beside him.

As one, the six of us crest the hill and look out over yet more of the endless road we’ve been following. A little ways up the next hill, a line of red cuts across the road, continuing into the grass on either side and extending into the distance in both directions. It’s a pretty large section of red too; about a dozen feet, maybe fifteen feet, wide.

What really catches my eye is how the surface is reflective, as if the paint is still wet. That doesn’t make sense. How can the paint be wet, it’s not running down the side of the hill…

“Well that doesn’t look so bad. I don’t know what you were so worried about, Twi!” a certain pegasus exclaims.

“It’s not what you can see that’s concerning, Rainbow, I can practically smell the chaos magic reeking from that paint all the way back in Ponyville.” The sensation of such strong chaos magic sort of feels like a minor headache, but not painful at all. It is like a constant, irritating, pressure in my… me, and it’s distracting me from more important things.

“Hm.” Rarity is frowning as she looks at the red paint quizzically.

“Alright, I’ll grant you it’s one of my… stronger workings, but it should be gone completely in a couple decades, not to worry.” says Discord.

“Decades?” I ask him, dryly.

In response, he looks at me pointedly. I put two and two together.

He knows?! I end up sputtering; trying to both form an objection, and come up with a plausible excuse at the same time.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, you’ll get used to it in time, Twilight Sparkle. Just, don’t try to cross the border until the paint dries. That’s what it’s there for.” He nods sagely, as if agreeing with himself.

Slowly getting control of myself, I realize that he’s distracted me from what I was here for in the first place. “So are the humans in there or not, Discord?” I manage to say, though I can feel my cheeks reddening at how foalish my lapse in control must have looked.

Discord rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Yes. But they don’t need visitors right now. Go home.”

Rainbow Dash looks like she’s about to argue, but Fluttershy speaks up first. “I think we should listen to him.” This is the first she’s really spoken up on the whole trip. She has our attention. “Discord’s in the best position to know when they’re ready to meet us. You’d trust my judgment on how to approach a hurt bear… So if he says to wait until later, we should.”

My first instinct is to just teleport across the border and go see for myself, consequences to Tartarus, but then again, going with my first instinct has never gotten me anywhere when it comes to Discord. Add that to how Fluttershy knows Discord better than any of us…

Rainbow looks like she’s sullenly accepted her lead, and the others seem to agree with her too. I mentally shelve my curiosity about the humans for later. “Alright, Fluttershy, we’ll play things his way for now.”

One by one, we turn and start the three-hour march back to Ponyville.

Glancing over my shoulder, I can see Fluttershy being the last to start back with us, having stayed behind, supposedly to share a few words with him in private. She seems satisfied with whatever he said. I guess I was just being a little paranoid.

Author's Note

My apologies on this one being a little late. I was having some problems getting the last two perspectives done. The dynamic between the mane 6 isn't the easiest thing for me to write.

Chapter 18: Laying and Lifting the Law

James Mender

“So, you don’t have a plan?” I ask him, dryly.

“I have dozens of plans, don’t insult me. You, however, get to make your own choices. I’ll just be giving advice,” Discord answers.

“What can you tell us about what we’re up against, then?” Captain Weathers asks.

“That kind of thinking,” Discord responds with amusement. “The goal is to merge into pony society seamlessly, so that neither of you think in terms of ‘us and them’ anymore.”

“That’s certainly isn’t going to happen overnight, I hope you realize.” Alexander says with a measure of concern.

“Of course it isn’t. It won’t be accomplished in your generation, surely,” Discord comments.

“I thought the goal was to keep on living?” Captain Weathers points out, warily.

Discord gives an exaggerated sigh. “Keeping you alive and propagating is simple. I could easily whisk the lot of you away to a large island, thousands of miles away, and set you up with a self-sustaining environment. I even have an old acquaintance I could easily pawn you off to, and he would do something similar.” Discord laughs darkly. “That would be little better than a prison, and your potential would be wasted. Besides, such guarantees have unpleasant side-effects, so that is one of my last resorts. I will keep my end of the deal, but that doesn’t mean I’ll use the easy, boring, slow-death-of-all-things-good-about-you way.” Discord then mutters something under his breath that I can’t quite make out.

This is rather unsettling news, to say the least. After my previous experiences with this god, I hadn’t expected such a serious atmosphere when he showed up earlier this morning and wanted a meeting with the four of us. Perhaps being a chaos god means he isn’t always frivolous? Just to keep us guessing?

“So… integration,” Rodin says thoughtfully.

“Aside from the language barrier, what sort of obstacles will we face?” Birchwood asks.

“Culture shock, mostly. You have some things in common, but there’s a lot more that you don’t,” Discord muses. “They’re more technologically advanced than you, but they don’t exactly use it to make weapons, so you’ll actually have an edge militarily.” Discord snaps his head to the side in order to give Captain Weathers a look. “Not that you should ever need that edge.”

The Captain nods in silent agreement.

“Don’t worry about the language barrier, by the way. It isn’t a problem anymore,” Discord adds as an afterthought.

Rodin’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “How did that happen?”

Discord just cackles, “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

“Moving forward,” I interrupt, trying to keep us on the same page, “What is this ‘Culture Shock’ thing you’re talking about? Some kind of magic?”

Discord looks at me, seemingly disappointed for some reason. “You ever travel, James?”

I frown. “A few times.” Times I don’t like to remember.

“Ever meet people who did things differently than you?”

“I did, yes.” At least, thinking that I was different from those people is how I can sleep at night.

“And were you friendly with these people?”

“No… I killed them.” It’s the whole reason I was traveling in the first place, but even in that context, everyone I’ve met whose ways opposed mine has ended up dead... I think I see his point.

Of course, if these ponies are insane and power-hungry enough to even compare to rogue Spirit Weavers, then I would have no qualms about killing them anyway. It would just be good common sense. But from what he’s told us, these ponies aren’t even familiar with killing; but how else could they be different from us?

“I don’t think the comparison really works, however.”

Discord snorts. “From the sounds of things, you need to learn tolerance. I had hoped for better from you humans.” He cracks a grin. “The ponies actually could teach you a few things about that.” The grin fades into a grimace. “Not a great deal, but they can teach you some.”

“How exactly are the ponies different, Discord?” Birchwood asks.

“I think he’s actually avoiding answering that question; am I right?” Rodin asks amusedly.

I am a little surprised at Rodin's insight, I admit, though perhaps I should not be. Ever since our minds had been temporarily merged, we’ve both changed a little. For the better, I hope. Perhaps I should re-evaluate him?

“You wound me!” Discord gasps dramatically, “As if I would ever deliberately dodge a question!” and dissolves into laughter; literally, dissolving into motes of light that swirl around the room.

The god re-forms behind us, leaning on the wall of the small building we reside in. “But in all seriousness, I don’t want to spoil the fun. The ponies won’t know much about you going into this; it’s just fair that you won’t know much about them either. With a little luck, and awareness that it’s not going to be a walk in the park, it should all work out fine, but the first few years should be good for some laughs regardless.”

“How exactly are we supposed to plan for this, if you won’t tell us anything concrete?” The Captain asks, exasperated.

Discord sighs. “Alright, fine. I have three plans of my own I can describe, and you can weigh their merit yourselves. But if you really want my advice, the whole village has to abide by a condition.”

I suppress a shudder. This might not end well. I still can’t believe I accepted that bet with him. What am I going to do with five favors?

I could spend one now and get him to tell us for free… But I don’t think he’d be very pleased about that.

As if in response to my thoughts, the god quirks an eyebrow in my direction, and waits for some sort of response to his offer.

“Alright, I think it’s worth it.” Rodin speaks up; leaning forward and resting his arms on the table we’re sitting around. “What’s this condition?”

Discord smiles, showing quite a few teeth, and reminding me of those wolves we so recently put down. “I’ve told you how the word ‘god’ isn’t used anymore? Well it really isn’t used anymore, to the point where introducing it again would be a bad idea. My condition is that you all stop using it. Call me the ‘Spirit of Chaos’, call the Alicorn sisters the ‘Princesses’, or make up your own names for us, I don’t care, just leave references to divinity out of conversation. Especially conversations with other races. This is the price of my advice.” Discord’s demeanor is more calm and serious than I’ve ever seen him.

I blink, looking at the god with confusion. Why would they not want that knowledge to be spread around? No matter what his reasons are, it’s a simple enough thing to do. Spreading word of this requirement is easy enough; the only problem will be convincing people to actually watch what they say and how they say it. I think I’ll leave that part to Birchwood.

Taking the resulting introspective silence as confirmation, Discord speaks up again, the atmosphere lightening a bit, prompting me to realize that air was heavy with something serious a moment ago.

“So, three plans. Here we go.” With a wave of his claw, one wall of the building is converted to some kind of black slate, and what looks like little sticks of chalk hover and begin to draw some diagrams on it.

It gets very complicated, very quickly.

Captain Weathers

Shaking my head to clear it, I do my best to focus on the task at hand. That meeting was trying in more ways than one, and I admit that the plan… or plans, really, that we chose rubs me a little bit the wrong way, but if that’s what is needed, that’s what we will do.

“Sir?” Vern inquires of me.

Right. Task at hand. “Find Sergeant Derik and tell him I want a report on how construction is going. Then spread the word that a council is being called tonight.”

Surprise registers on his face for a moment, before he quickly salutes me, “Yes Sir!” and moves off to carry out his orders.

Looking around, it’s not difficult to see how much progress has been made with my own two eyes, but it’s important that we not relax the system in place, lest it fail us when we really need it.

Derik finds me in short order, snapping to attention as he begins his report and reading off of some notes. I listen with one ear, as I compare his words to what I’m seeing. “-he last of the temporary shelters were deemed finished and claimed by the remaining families this morning. Work on the barracks was halted per your instructions and the last of the stone we brought with us was used in the foundation of Mender’s hospital, which is now ready for the framework. The teams cutting lumber had a few accidents, one of which required medical attention. According to Miss Minter, the civilian will make a full recovery.”

“Are the Forges ready to begin work yet?”

“No, Sir. They claim to need a smithy built to specifications we can’t accommodate quite yet. They have the tools, but not the environment in which to use them.”

My brow furrows in concern. We’re fine for the moment, but our tools will only last so long before we need the Forges to be able to make repairs.

“Do you have the report from the hunting teams?” I ask.

“Here.” He hands me the report in question.

It would seem that we’re collecting a surplus again, and are building a decent store of the more lasting foodstuffs, which means our cooks can start doing more creative things with the meals.

Good. It will be nice to get some real cooking again.

“Thank you, Sergeant, you’re dismissed.” With another salute, Derik takes his leave.

Well that’s that, then. After three whole days of construction, we finally have enough buildings to give everyone a roof over their heads at night. This is as good a time as ever to lift it. It might slow progress some, but that’s the price we pay, and there isn’t as much of a rush to finish, now that everyone has the basics.

I square my shoulders and start looking for the Forges, to see what might be done. Tonight will take care of itself, now that the word is out.

Rodin Everblaze

I miss having a tower.

Back home, my tower was the tallest building in the village, and could be seen for miles. It had been constructed early on in the history of the village, and had been home to the resident mage for generations.

Even once we came here, I had a tower, though it was little more than a vertical piece of ruins that happened to be more or less structurally sound.

Now?

I sit inside what amounts to a miniature hut, with just enough room to store my things and two make-shift mattresses for me and Sophia. It’s made mostly of wood, though the roof was woven from foliage… somehow. They’ve had a lot of practice working with the resources in the Everfree, I must admit.

Sighing, I get to my feet and exit the hut, careful not to disturb Sophia while she sleeps. Outside, our little home is marked as ours by the new staff I’ve been carving during meals. Most of the huts I pass have things of that nature; trinkets displayed across the entrances to help distinguish between the rather similar looking structures.

Everyone’s looking forward to getting real houses built, but the communal ones have to go up first.

The barracks, the hospital, the town hall, even the grain-silos need to be put up. Most of those buildings are nothing more than foundations and half-completed frameworks. And they’re all single-story, too. We don’t really have the tools or the resources for anything more ambitious than that, though I could have obtained them, I suppose.

If we were willing to steal, I could have easily summoned what we needed, but then again, our goal is to not anger the ponies.

My magic has been of help, these last few days, what with cutting and shaping wood, magically treating some of it, and moving some of the heavier objects with the clever use of the Force and Shape runes, but there’s been so much to do, and I can only do so much before digging into my bodily reserves.

Unwilling to run my body dry, I found myself doing actual physical labor for the first time in years… It almost felt refreshing. Almost.

My sore feet take me to the center of camp, where a large circle of space has been left open. A small ring of stones at the center contains a large collection of scrap wood.

As I enter the open space, the murmurs of the crowd fade into anticipatory silence. Along the edges of the clearing, the silhouettes of over fifty small groups of men stand, more or less evenly spread, waiting on me.

I missed this, the last time. Being unconscious, this little piece of ceremony had been skipped, or so I had heard.

I approach the circle at the center, until I am standing next to Governor Birchwood, who, to all appearances, has been waiting there patiently.

In my mind, I quickly assemble a very familiar spell: a center of Fire, tempered by Desire and modified by Shape. The runes draw the energy they need and vanish leaving only a tiny thread of red energy still connected to me in my mind’s eye.

Outwardly, fire spills from my outstretched hand and onto the firewood, igniting the bonfire and throwing light off into the corners of the night. The faces of my fellow men of the village shine clearly now, and a tiny tension is released. The council is now officially begun.

Next to me, Alexander begins addressing them, going down the list of each Family in the village, calling out to them. Each time he calls out a sur-name, a man of that name calls back, announcing his full name, and cementing his right to speak for his family at this particular council.

When they get to Everblaze, I call out; “Rodin Everblaze” at a moderate volume, and then let the spell I’m directing take hold of my focus. I already know most of what this meeting is about anyway, and don’t particularly need to pay attention.

Instead, I keep my mind occupied with retaining the imprint of my will on the spell fueling the bonfire; misplacing your attention long enough being one of the dangers of using these particular Runes. This is child’s play for me, for… several reasons actually, but molding the cheery little flames with my intent gives me something to do at least. Playing with fire has always been a good way to relieve a little boredom.

What does catch my attention is the last two names called out after the Zikter Family is accounted for.

“Fisherman,” Alexander calls.

“Leo Fisherman.” A man replies, and I turn my head to get a better look at him. I know that man from somewhere…

“Winters,”

“Katherine Winters.” A woman’s voice rings in the air, and my eyes widen in surprise.

There’s a woman representing her family? How- Oh, now I remember.

Listing their names after the regular run down the alphabet had ended should have tipped me off first. James had told us about the two paladins that Discord had healed of their afflictions. I still think James wasn't telling us everything, but I didn’t press him for information. If I learned anything from that mind-melding thing, I learned not to pry into his secrets. I'm just thankful I can't recall the details of his memories. Her presence does make sense, however. By tradition, even new families to the village could have a seat on the council. By the same traditions, a woman could sit, only if all the men were underage or unable to come. Those two have no family here, and represent only themselves. Their addition to the village reminds me of when I fist came here... Though I doubt that they had to swear oaths.

“This council has been called by the Good Captain. He will now speak his piece.” I am discovering that it is often rather difficult to tell from his tone of voice, what Alexander’s true thoughts or feelings are. He’s very good at projecting one thing while feeling another, or so James tells me. All I can detect is casual sincerity, and the formal anticipation of Samuel’s words. It’s perfectly appropriate, but I’d never be able to tell if he was, say, bored out of his mind.

It’s one of the things I find fascinating about him.

“I have arrived at the conclusion,” Samuel says from somewhere on my right, presumably standing with his sons, “as Captain of the Guard, that the time of crisis has passed and it is time for the Guard to step down and end martial law.”

Surprised murmuring breaks out for a few minutes as the people digested this information. Despite it being part of the plan, I was and still am rather proud of Samuel for so readily proposing to give up that kind of power. Of course, learning to live without his direction again is going to take us some trial and error, I imagine.

Though I suppose, thinking of his wife, that he has had some motivation to give it up. He has been forced to live apart from her, the price he and the rest of the Guard pays for as long as they wield this power. How long has it been? Three years? Or was it four…

My musing ends as the Governor takes control over the situation, speaking to the whole council. “The Captain has proposed the end of our State of Emergency,” he says formally. “Discussion now begins, and then the council will vote.”

Alexander then turns and takes his place in the circle, leaving me in the center to mind the fire. The first speaker steps forward, an older man that I recognize as one of the resurrected soldiers.

He begins his speech and I return my gaze to the bonfire. My turn to speak my piece comes right before the Governor's, and as such, I must endure the speeches of a great many of both fools and wise men.

I shift closer to the fire, getting comfortable as I await my turn to support the Captain in his choice.

Chapter 1: The End of the World

Apocalypse.

Where once the sky was a soothing blue, now it is threaded with hellish red veins that pulse with ominous intent. Meteors descend with regularity; demolishing the landscape and sparking numerous forest fires.

Smoke clogs the air of the south, as the world burns.

Hope is all but extinguished; as the three pantheons of gods wage their war in the heavens, bastions of mortal followers stand their ground against the gibbering hordes of madness and death.

Briefly.

The last of the great kingdoms gather its armies in defense of its people; praying one last time to their gods for victory and mercy.

Their prayers are answered: Great bolts of lightning ring from empty skies, felling monstrous titans and scattering goblins like water. Seraphim descend and cut great swaths through the enemy lines with holy fire, before succumbing to their hundreds of wounds. In spite of the intervention, the horde proved endless, and the humans still fight and die in a glorious, if futile, last stand.

Their memories would have been honored for generations.

From afar, the last of the mages watch in fear as the last army of Good died valiantly, and the forces of Evil march ever closer toward their settlements.

The gods are angry.

The three great pantheons are at war for the first and last time; one of the three had gained power greater than the others combined: something that never should have happened.

With Evil somehow gaining this unmatched strength, the world is ending in fire, and the Good gods of the humans can do nothing to stop it. The third pantheon, neither drawing power from Good, nor Evil, fought alongside the gods of the humans, in a frantic attempt to restore the lost balance.

Yet all their attempts to retain harmony are for naught. This world is doomed, to fire and ash.

However, even in the throes of defeat, the gods are able to enact one last plan. One last failsafe.

A single city can be saved; to carry on the legacy.

The hordes and the corruption had already spread to far too many of the cities of the last kingdom. Even if the great capital of Noxin were to be saved, the monsters now present within it would slaughter or corrupt the inhabitants beyond all hope of a future.

A single town remained untouched, far to the east. Yet it will not stay safe for long.

Already the horde advanced upon it; towering demons crushing forests and farms beneath their feet as they strode the earth. The gods have one last moment to make their choice…

The sacrifice has been made.

The last working of the Pantheon of Good is now manifest.

And so the world ends.

Rodin Everblaze

Floating in the inky blackness, I ponder my state. It feels different than a dream-vision, though the sensation is disconcerting in the same ways.

I can feel my body, though I find myself unable to summon the will to move it. It's as if I was disconnected to it, if only partially. Oddly enough, I feel like I'm moving quickly; a sensation almost like a strong wind propels me forwards.

I can't remember how I had gotten here, or who I am. I simply drift in what feels like oblivion, strangely not caring about anything at all.

At length, a point of light appears in the distance, slowly growing to a wall of pure white energy. Without any control over myself, I am approaching the wall at great speed. Idly, I wonder if the collision with the wall will kill me. It is strange, feeling only a mild curiosity about my own imminent death.

The wall of light grows to encompass my entire vision, and then suddenly, I think I strike it.

I am thrown violently into a new state of being. The world is dark again and I feel once more totally in possession of my body. Realizing I can move again, my eyes flash open, revealing that I am standing in the middle of a crowd of strangers.

Looking upon the faces around me, I realize that isn't right; I recognize these people, all of them, down to each man, woman and child. They are members of the village I serve, the village I swore to protect.

In a flood, the memories return to me.

My childhood, my name, learning to master magic at the caring hand of my father, my service in the army, the first life I saved, the first life I took, meeting my future wife, the rise of the goblins, settling into the home I would have up until the end, the birth of my beautiful daughter, the death of my wife, the fall of our sister kingdoms, and finally, the war of the gods.

With my memories returned, I look around at the crowd. I am wearing my war-robes, my staff in hand. I remember grabbing it as I entered the balcony of my tower, glaring at the first demon titan to appear on the horizon.

I remember the cascading blue lights that descended from on high, suffusing the entire town with power. I remember the presence of the gods, and the raw power of their work charging the air.

Where did the gods send us? Are we safe from the horde? Where is Sophia? I begin to panic; I can see many of the townsfolk, most of which looked like they had appeared with whatever they happened to be holding at the time of the spell.

Was everyone transported? Where is Sophia? Where’s my Daughter?

Samuel Weathers

I look on at the crowd in growing apprehension. The people are starting to grow fearful.

A product of my training, I recovered quickly from the shock of being subjected to such a disorienting spell, but the majority of the townsfolk are still reeling. There might be a panic soon if I’m not careful.

I take the opportunity to look around, trying to see where the spell had dropped us off.

I am standing near a ravine, the bottom of which edge I can't quite see. There are the remnants of an old bridge nearby, but it has long since broken and become therefore useless.

On the far side of the ravine lies a forest, there might have been a path through those trees at one point, but it has been overgrown for a long time from the looks of things.

I can’t help but feel distinctly glad that the forest lies on the other side of the ravine. It looks strangely dark and forbidding. Almost unnatural.

I am glad to turn and examine what lay in the other direction. I'm pleasantly surprised to see what looks like the ruins of an old castle.

I am no architect, but it looks salvageable. It had succumbed to the trials of time and creeping vines, but it still stands. Mostly. The gates are wooden and mostly intact, while certainly not inviting, it is far more friendly looking than the forest, and there is nowhere else to go but ravine.

One thing is readily apparent: We are far from civilization, and need to get organized quickly if we are to survive.

“Guard! Form up!” I bark out the order, cutting across the murmuring that was starting to grow. Out of the crowd, my men stiffen at the sound of my voice, and quickly make their way to the edges of the mass of humans. “I want a perimeter twenty paces from that ravine; we don’t need anyone falling today.”

Given purpose, they quickly form their ranks, brandishing the shaft of their spears like staves to encourage the increasingly restless crowd to keep back from the edge.

“Alright people, settle down! Hush!” That voice rings out with authority as well, and the crowd quiets to hear it speak. “Thank you. I think I speak for all of us when I say that whatever just happened was certainly disorienting…” A few sounds of agreement passes through the crowd, but nobody laughs. It's too soon for that.

I can see the speaker by this point. The Governor has apparently gotten two men to hoist him up on their shoulders so he can address the town before the situation further devolved into chaos. See, it's that kind of quick thinking under pressure that earned him my respect a long time ago.

“But wherever we are, we’re stuck here, so we might as well make it our home,” the Governor continues. “I can’t help but notice that we appeared right next to this structure,” he said, gesturing to the gates of the castle. “So I think we ought to take advantage of the gift our gods have given us. Yes?” he pauses, just long enough to hear no objections. “Captain Weathers!”

Having anticipated his plan a fraction of a second before he calls me, I am prepared. “The Guard is at your service, Governor Birchwood!” I reply.

“Wonderful! Would you do me the personal favor of inspecting yonder buildings to make sure it’s safe, before we all barge in there?”

“With pleasure.” I turn to my Sergeants. Which one of them was the son of an architect again? Ah, right. “Derik. Take your platoon and join me on the inspection. The rest of you stay here and run an inspection. I want to know how much gear we managed to take with us.”

We approach the gates, which open easily enough. It had been well constructed, even if the hinges are a bit rusty. It only takes three men to move.

Inside, we behold a large entry room entirely devoid of a roof. While the walls and floor are all mostly intact, what used to have been supporting columns have long since collapsed; even the rubble was swept away by the wind.

In the center stands some ornamental piece of stonework, which is interesting only in how pristinely it has stood the test of time compared to the walls and ceiling. I suspect magic at play, and warn my men not to touch the thing.

Attached to that first building, which I dub 'the Gatehouse', if only for its proximity to the gate, is a large tower with staircases going both up and down. From the gatehouse’s many windows, we can see the courtyard a dozen feet below, so I send a half that includes Derik up to see how structurally intact the upper tower was while the other half of us descend to explore the rest of the castle. As we reach the courtyard my men spread out, taking the sight in.

The place is absolutely deserted. It seems that nothing has so much as visited in a very long time.

I can make out where some buildings must have once stood; piles of rubble and half standing walls outline some traces of the ruins. At some point, some kind of tower must have fallen inwards into the courtyard, its remains are now scattered all over the place by the wind.

Oddly enough, there are a few buildings that seem minimally affected by the passage of time, creeping vines and moss notwithstanding. I might have counted the Gatehouse and attached tower among them, but they had sustained so much damage I hesitate to consider them truly preserved in any sense.

It is these preserved buildings we approach. I head for the one nearest to the gatehouse, stepping over and around blocks of fallen stonework as I do so. It is a short, one-story building, but it's wide and square, hopefully containing many rooms. As we enter where a door probably once stood, I am surprised at the height of the ceiling. If I were much taller, I’d have to duck. I am by no means the tallest among us, so this ceiling will likely be the spark of many irritations. Irritations that would flare tempers. I do not look forward to dealing with that.

The rooms are dark, which is to be expected. My guards all carry standard issue torches though, so light is no real issue. What surprises me is the lack of a smell. This is certainly not the first old ruin I've explored, and the worst part about the others had been the moldy old smell of the rotting refuse of ancient peoples. Here, I just smell old rocks. I can't decide why, but this bothers me.

The rooms I explore are not empty. Dusty pieces of wooden furniture adorn most of the rooms. It isn't a type of wood I recognize, but then, I am no woodworker. What I do know, is that tiny bedframes are scattered throughout the place, wall to wall, with small chests and cabinets taking up whatever spaces are left. There are odd crystals set in the walls, I'd have guessed for light, but they remain curiously dark.

When I called for my guards they reported much of the same. More rooms, more beds. But then one of them reports finding stairs in this complex. As intriguing as that is, I decide it will have to wait until later. We have explored what I now believe must have been a very well warded and preserved barracks, but we have other buildings to investigate.

Alexander Birchwood

I stood between the crowd and the gates, while the guard stood between the crowd and that very long drop. It had been a stressful two hour wait while Weathers was investigating the ruins. Initially it was almost easy. All the people wanted to do was find their family members. Tearful reunions and tears of relief had abounded. Not too far from him had seen the Everblazes embracing; the proud Rodin reduced to silently holding his daughter as she sobbed violently into his robes. If Birchwood had seen him cry he knew better than to remember it.

That atmosphere had passed though, as the people got a good look at the dark forest just beyond the ravine. I myself admit: the sight of that forest instilled a sort of primal fear in me. Yet the gap between us and it did provide me comfort.

At some point I began walking the crowd, answering questions as they were thrown at me and offering reassurances when I could. “Everything’s going to be fine… No, I don’t know what happened... The Captain’s looking into it... I’m glad you’re ok… Yes, we’re all in one piece… I’m afraid none of our pets came with, no… My condolences... Thank you… Just stay put, I’m sure the Captain will return soon…”

A lesser man would have groan hoarse but this was really what I did for a living. Even so, I was relieved when the good Captain and his men returned from the gates. “What news, Captain Weathers?”

“A few buildings ought to be torn down for safety, but for the most part the ruins looks good primarily for raw building materials. The few exceptions, I’d like Everblaze to look at. I suspect they've been warded considering how well they've been preserved.”

Rodin stepped forward. “I’d be glad to. Come along Sophia.”

I nodded, not objecting in the least. “I think we ought to get to work then, don’t you?”

Thus began a very long day.

Thankfully, there was a spring of groundwater that fed into a lake near the castle. The Captain had a squad of guards catching fish and cooking nearly constantly. He wasn't too sure it would last long, but we were going to need to eat, and hardly anybody had been holding food when the gods intervened.

The rest of us got to work making our new home safe for the children. Unstable walls were knocked down; rubble was cleared and set aside. Several hundred hands pulled on make-shift ropes someone had thrown together from vines to remove the top floor of a tower one of the Sergeants had deemed unsafe.

Rodin made a discovery that day that the Forge family and the Guard had loved. Apparently one of the preserved barracks had an extensive smithy and armory complex in its basement. I wasn't too sure how an underground forge made any kind of structural sense, but then, I’m no architect.

The Captain nearly had to bodily haul the Forge brothers from the basement to help work on separating usable rubble from the trash. In the end I think they even slept down there.

Mender and his assistants claimed another of the few magically preserved buildings for use as a hospital. Rodin thinks it used to be some kind of temple, but I think I recognize a town-hall when I see one. Now it’s the home of our medical patients, the handful that had been sent back from the front lines to recover a few weeks ago, and the good Healers. Luckily no new injuries have occurred since we arrived. Let’s pray it stays that way, if the gods can even still hear us.

It’s odd. I've grown up cursing the leaders that let the world slowly fall to pieces around us, and now I’m the leader of what probably is all that’s left of the human race. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

The first night is hard on all of us, especially because it starts raining just before dark.

We’re forced to use the beds in the barracks, which are way too small for anything but the children, really. Far too many of us have to sleep on these hard stone floors.

Chapter 4: The First Casualty of War

Alexander Birchwood

“My Good Captain!” I exclaim, striding into the Healer’s building. “What’s this I hear about my two best magic users being out of commission?”

He’s in uniform, as always, but his expression is one of intense sustained worry I've only seen on him once before. That sight alone tells me there’s something serious going on.

“Healer Mender’s assistants tell me they were attempting to summon a creature for medicinal purposes, but they got very unlucky.”

“Unlucky!” I exclaim, How in the name of the gods did they manage to screw up this monumentally? I bite back the rest of my interruption.

“Yes. Unlucky. Apparently, accidentally summoning a sentient creature creates a… backlash. So we, of course, detained the creature without harming it. It is not at fault.”

“She.” The man next to the captain corrected him, his name is… Bill, I think, and earned a withering glare from his superior for his trouble.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Can it talk?”

“Not any language we know.”

“Do we know what it eats?”

“Not with certainty, Governor. It resembles… well. I’ll show you.”

I follow the Captain down the stairs, pass the wreckage of the first cell, and we stop at the third, which is being manned by half a squad of fully armed guards.

I peer inside the poorly lit cell, and someone generously raises a torch so I could see better.

The thing looked like a horse almost, but it was rather small for a horse. Its coloration was remarkable, its fur is a natural blue, but its mane and tail emulate a rainbow. That’s certainly not natural. And dyes mean civilization.

“Damn. And we kidnapped it. Her.” I turn to the Captain. “I don’t care if we starve for a few days, do whatever you have to, to get Ronin on his feet to deal with this. If anyone knows a translation spell, he might.”

The… Female in the cell began talking to us. It was… gibberish to me, but I’ll admit, it wasn't the whinnying and snorting I’d expected to hear. It was higher pitched than my voice, and my voice isn't deep, but if I didn't look right at it, I could pretend it was a human child’s voice.

I look at the Captain. “Keep it fed. If nothing else, let it out to graze or something. I don’t need it dying on us and complicating everything.”

“Governor, should we keep this a secret?”

I blink at him. “I don’t see why we would.”

He just nods. “Alright then.”

Vern Leonard

I walk in the center of the loose formation. As we move through the trees of the Forest of Watchful Shade, we’re spread thin, to cover as much area as we can, while staying in each other’s sight.

My tracker’s on point, I have my two soldiers flanking us, and the hunters sort of wander, eyeing tracks and trails.

Apparently the Captain’s been feeling safe, because we've had women with us the last couple of days, gathering the herbs and fruit.

With this addition, we've been finally collecting enough to create a surplus, and I've not heard the children complain of hunger in days.

I heft my torch higher. It’s still light out, but the canopy casts really deep shadows. We can use the light.

I swear, this forest is unnatural; I've walked the same route dozens of times and each time, the fruit is there again, like I hadn't just picked it the day before.

The Captain knows, but doesn't seem to think it’s important.

Sometimes I think the trees move around when we aren't watching them.

I’m feeling a mite braver than usual, so I instruct my tracker to take us farther north and west than usual.

We get a little surprise in the form of a clearing.

Seriously, I can count on one hand the number of open spaces we've found in this forest. It’s the largest I've seen, and I can’t even see a reason for it. It’s circular, and there’s just a lot of grass, bordered by the forest’s trees.

As we step into the clearing, I check the position of the sun. High noon. We've got plenty of time, might as well take a breather.

“Go ahead and spread out. Take a water break, and search the edges for berry bushes.”

The civilians are panting, happy to take a break. The guards and I are more used to the exertion, but we’re also wearing this bloody heavy armor.

We break out the water skins and pass them around.

“Damn. It’s getting hotter.” Allen, my right guard, breathes.

“I don’t think it’s spring anymore, no.” I reply.

“Does that mean we can start shooting the female ones again?” One of the civilian hunters wants to know.

“You’ll have to ask the Captain; he sets hunting policy.” Allen supplies automatically. Pitch perfect. Music to my ears.

“I see basic did its job well.”

John, my left guard, snorts. “Big surprise the-”

*SNARL*

He’s cut off by a loud snarl, from the forest on the other side of the clearing.

“Form up!” The words are out of my mouth before I get a chance to think.

My guards are immediately at my side, while the civilians are still recovering from shock and starting to run to us.

From the forest on the other side of this clearing emerges a wolf. Or, at least, it resembles a wolf. It looks like it’s been constructed entirely out of wood. It’s eye sockets glow an ominous green light.

It eyes us warily as it steps out from behind its cover.

Perhaps it will leave us alone?

An arrow whizzes by from somewhere to my left, and embeds itself in the beast’s eye-socket.

I could strangle that civilian…

But I don’t get the chance, as the beast charges him first.

John moves to intercept, his shield and spear moving fluidly into position. His plan is clear to me, given a second more to prepare, John would finish setting his spear, and that wolf would impale itself in its foolish direct assault. He didn't have that extra second. Instead, John took the charge on his shield, his spear skittering off the side of the wolf, and he was thrown to the ground.

I drop my torch and heft my axe as we charge to his aid. Why an axe? The better to chop wood with.

The beast claws at Johns shield, and I see its claws find purchase on the polished surface, digging out gouges of metal.

Clearly the beast is made of a special type of wood.

So it was with no restraint that I finished my charge by burying my axe in the thing's head as hard as I could. I could see Allen sink his own spear into the side of the thing, right where a real wolf would have had its heart.

The wolf just falls to pieces, literally. The parts just… stop being held together, and it disintegrates into a pile of inanimate sticks.

Almost immediately, we hear the howls. They sound far off, but I know that will change.

John’s shield arm is broken, but we have no time to set it.

“We need to get going, back to the castle, NOW.”

The civilians were still too shocked to do much, but I got them moving with threats of leaving them behind to the wolves.

Allen had the presence of mind to grab a piece of wood from the corpse and then we got moving.

*AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*

I was right, the howls were getting closer.

Samuel Weathers

It took all night for the howls to cease. All. Night.

I didn't sleep, few of the guard did. Only those I ordered to slept.

The hunting party that kicked the bees nest, so to speak, hobbled back into camp one man down, and with an injured guard.

Thankfully the women were uninjured, and the man lost was a civilian.

I had asked Sergeant Vern how the civilian had died. “He broke his ankle, and couldn't walk. The wolves were close behind us, and by the time we saw him, they were closer to him than we were.”

I didn't press him for details.

If they hadn't been howling constantly, we’d have never known they were there. They never showed hide, nor tail of themselves.

Rodin’s brat wanted to help guard the entrance, but I sent her away. Rodin was battle hardened enough, but his daughter was not. I couldn't let her face death without her father’s permission.

She wasn't happy about that.

Now I sit in the barracks, on a bed that someone had taken the time to alter so we’d fit on it. The lights were working. Rodin had said all he had to do to turn them on was enter the building. After that, they seemed to activate whenever you moved around too much.

My room was dark, but I wasn't getting any sleep; I could tell it was still daytime.

“Captain!”

The light in my room flickers on as an annoyingly rested Sergeant Bill practically sprints in.

“Are we under attack?”

I’m already on my feet, slipping into my clothes and armor.

“No sir. It is a domestic issue, sir.”

I glare at him through my chainmail shirt as I pause in my dressing. “Explain.”

“We have opened communications with the prisoner, and the Governor appointed you to handle it, Sir.”

“What prisoner?”

“The… non-human one, sir?”

“Oh. Her.”

Rainbow Dash

“So you can understand me?” I ask the strange little foal leaning against the bars.

“Yep!”

“Can they?” I ask, irritated at the prospect.

“I dunno. Hey, can you tell what she’s saying?” The foal reaches up a hoof and shakes the armored one next to her.

It responds, in that low gravelly voice.

“He says no.”

I snort in frustration. “So can you get me out of here?”

“Not unless they let me.”

“Can you get me an apple?” They had been feeding me, but it wasn't much.

She relays the query, and one of the armored ones leave.

“So,” I start, wary of this strange-looking foal, “why can you hear me when they can’t?”

She purses her lip, which looks really odd on the face of a… that.

“I don’t know. You think it’s cause I know magic?”

I catch the armored ones exchanging looks, but I can’t read their strange expressions.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Can you ask why I’m locked up?”

She relays the question, and the armored one arrives back with an apple. They toss it through this small hole in the door, like with the rest of the food she’s been given.

“They won’t say, but I think it has something to do with daddy’s accident.”

One of the armored ones scowls, and says something.

“I am not!”

A new voice is heard, along with lots of footsteps.

Another one wearing armor shows up, and speaks at length to the others. The foal looks smug.

I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’ll say this. “You guys had better let me go before my friends get here.” I am sick of this place! It’s been two days! There’s not even anything to read in here!

“Oooh, what are your friends like?”

I can’t just sit still, I begin pacing. “My friends are great! They’re the best friends ever, and they’ll come find me, wherever I am!”

“Oh.” She stops, listening to the new armored one speak for a while. “Uh, he wants me to tell you something.”

The armored one then leads her, speaking a sentence, letting her repeat it, and saying another sentence.

“We’re sorry. Our mage cast a spell… And it grabbed you on accident… which broke the spell and hurt the mage!” She glances at me, “That’s my daddy.” I nod, wanting her to continue.

Finally, some progress!

“The spell could have grabbed you from anywhere… so we don’t know how far you came from… and didn't want you getting lost… because the forest is dangerous.”

Wait, what? A dangerous forest?

“What’s the name of this forest! Is it the Everfree?”

The foal looked up. “She wants to know the name of the forest.” Her response is less than I’d hoped. “They called it The Forest of Watching Shade.”

I slumped. “Horsefeathers.”

I could be anywhere.

“Can I at least be let out of this cell?”

It turned out the answer was a resounding YES, because they opened the door.

I wasn't too keen on trusting them, but this was likely going to be my only chance to get outside.

“So, what are you miss?”

The foal was following me as we trotted down the hall. “I’m a Pegasus pony. You can call me Rainbow Dash.”

“Ok, Rainbow Dash! My name is Sophia Everblaze!” apparently something about that was funny, because several of the armored ones snickered.

They better not be laughing at me. I could- I could leave them in the dust any day! “Tell them not to laugh at me; I’m the fastest flyer in all of Equestria!” I glared at them for good measure.

“You can fly?” she asked, totally missing the point. I don’t need be her species to see the sheer wonderment on her face though, so I roll with it.

“You bet, these wings aren't just for show, you know.”

We reach the top of the stairwell, and make our way outside in short order. Finally!

I flare my wings and break for the cloudless sky!

I haven’t stretched these wings in days! Flying! Feels! So! Good!

I do a few tricks, and scan the Forest; it looks sort of like the Everfree, it’s also nothing but endless trees, as far as I can see. Disappointed, I land next to the foal that I can understand.

“That felt good. I haven’t stretched in days!”

“That was awesome!” shouts my newest fan. Sophia is ecstatic. I would be too, if I saw me perform.

“Yea, I am pretty awesome.” I look around. This place looks sort of familiar, but I can’t put my hoof on it.

There are more of her species everywhere. Almost none of them wear the armor, so I guess that means the armored ones are special, like the royal guard. I wonder who their princess is… “Hey, what species are you girls anyway?”

“Oh, we’re humans silly!”

Wait, what?

“No way!” I exclaim, taking to the air and hovering by instinct, “Humans are a myth!” Now that I see it, I can’t believe I didn't connect the dots earlier. “Sweet Celestia, I found humans! You’re supposed to have died out ages ago!”

Suddenly I freeze, dropping to all four hooves.

If humans died out thousands of years ago… Couldn't their spell… I swallowed. “Hey. What year is it?” I ask.

“I dunno. Hey guard. What year is it?” Sophia asks, tugging on the guards uniform.

The guard looks confused, and walks off to ask someone, I think.

Eventually the guard comes back, and speaks to the foal.

Sophia looks at me and proudly says, “It’s Year One.”

I panic.

Nick Forge

I sit next to my brother at the council. It is dusk, we have worked long and hard at the forges, so I am taking the time to enjoy this moment of peace.

It seems I will not be having many more of them.

“These wolves have spilt our blood! Now it is our turn! If they will not attack our defenses, let us strike at theirs! Bring fire and axe to their homes!” This received many shouts of praise and encouragement. There were not many voices against this sentiment, as the last two hours had shown.

Yet there were a few. The eldest Mender’s son sat on the council this night, as his father was still incapacitated, and he stood to speak. “I agree! The wolves have earned our wrath! But we must not be hasty! Our only battle mage, and our greatest healer are not able to join us! Without them, who will rain fire from the heavens? Who will bind the wounds our brothers when they fall? Attacking now is folly. We are not prepared for war now. The wolves must pay, yes! But we must bide our time, or risk losing everything!” The youngster’s words were met with cheers, but they were not as enthusiastic.

Every family on the council had to speak their piece. This was law. I surrendered the right to Terry for this meeting, but I still had the right to observe.

What I observed was many orders for arms and armor on the horizon.

Terry had spoken already. The only one left was… the Governor? Wow. This council had gone rather quickly.

The Governor rose, and strode to the center of the circle. “Well, my friends, it is almost time to vote. I can understand the desire for blood, especially on the part of the Fletch Family due to their loss. Certainly this loss cannot go unanswered. I ask that you consider this new perspective before we vote. Here we have arrived in this world, with no history, a fresh slate. Upon it, we may draw whatever we wish. In this place, we may become whatever our choices make us. We may become conquerors, we may become slaves,” he pauses as we laugh.

We will never become slaves.

“Or we might simply… die out. What will determine this, is how we choose to live in this new world. Who we fight. When we kill. Whatever we do, this will be our first real act in this world. I only ask that you choose wisely. So, my friends, it is time to vote.”

Those who represented their family that night rose, carrying a stone painted a bright red.

Fifty two men approach the bonfire in a line, one by one tossing their stones into the growing piles.

We watch as the Governor counts the piles. It is redundant. It is clear which pile is largest.

He stands in front of the bonfire, ready to announce what we all know. “The wolves will fall before us like wheat!” A loud cheer interrupts him, “And when they do, Rodin Everblaze will lead us into the fray!”

Chapter 19: A Period of Growth

Herbert Senthson

It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, there’s not a cloud in the sky, the grass is green and the paint is a little less wet than yesterday.

Oh yes. One of my brand new duties is watching paint dry, while on patrol. I never knew you could combine two boring tasks into one and end up with something more mind-numbing than either of them alone. Now I know better.

Of course, keeping an eye on the paint-border also involves heading into the Everfree Forest, which is something I used to loathe.

It’s the strangest thing… whatever had been making us afraid of the forest just up and stopped one day. At least, so long as we remain within our borders. When I walk up to the red paint and peer through the trees to the other side of the southern border, I can feel the old fear again.

The more I think about it, the more I like it. If this keeps up, it will mean that we’ll be able to tell how deep into the forest we are by whether or not the fear is present.

It’s certainly made hunting duty more enjoyable. Sure, there are still dangerous creatures in the forest, but that constant nagging fear had caused more than a few slip-ups in the past.

At least nowadays, after my shift is over, I have the option to return home to my family again, rather than constantly bunking in the barracks.

It used to be that members of the guard could only really visit their families during the regularly scheduled meal-times, no matter if they were married or single. It was the price we paid for the amount of control we had.

Well, the control the Captain had. He’s the one who made all the decisions.

I don’t have a sweetheart to call my own, but I missed spending time with my brothers and sisters. It’s certainly an interesting dynamic now that I’m a guard though.

I mean, ever since I started hunting wolves, such a long time ago, my older brothers started actually giving me respect as a full man, but as a member of the guard, one that’s tasted combat no less, it’s slightly… different.

Not to mention that after the amount of time and effort the Sergeants put into adding this ‘Focus Magic’ to our training, I’ve had the unrivaled pleasure of tutoring my older brothers in how to use it.

Speaking of which, underneath my gloves lies one of the images that every member of the guard has grown very familiar with: A single eye, shaped like that of an eagle, set against a background of an arrow crossed with a hollow horn.

Combining so many different things in a single Mark took some effort and training, but after a couple days of practicing the same mark over and over, one gets used to it.

The Captain even mandated that all members of the guard needed to learn how to do specific Marks, and be capable of producing them on command.

This particular one enhances my eyes, letting me see farther, sharper, and notice more about my surroundings. It also improves my accuracy with my bow, and I can now blow my warning horn with all the lung-power of a trained professional. It’s the perfect mark for watch-duty, and works well with patrols like this one.

I also know how to produce marks that appear exactly like three different sets of our armor and equipment, the more specific the image, the better I get with them. That’s in addition to individual marks that enhance strength, speed, skill with certain weapon groups, and memory recall. There’s actually been a bit of debate as to what exactly we should focus on learning, spawning a mark devoted to skill in debate. It looks like a small brown scale set against a background of grey speed lines.

Some of the marks are more symbolic than others, but all of them are rather potent.

The sparring sessions we’ve been doing to keep in shape have gotten a lot more intense as a result, let me tell you. Imagine that, with just a little bit of focus, you could call to your mind and body all the knowledge and reflexes of a master swordsman. When I focus solely on my pressing desire to be good with a sword – not just any sword, but this sword – it’s amazing, how I can suddenly just know exactly what I’m doing.

But then, that knowledge, those reflexes, they don’t exactly go away. So long as I wear this Scouting Mark, as we’ve come to call it, I will feel the urge to actually use the abilities I am granted. How I put them to use doesn’t matter as much as you might think; I feel most content when actually out in the field, using these enhanced eyes to study the landscape, comparing it to how it all looked yesterday… and the day before that… and the one before that… but as long as I’m counting the number of bricks in a wall, or keeping track of the relative distances between members of a crowd as I patrol our little market-place, I’m content.

Actively refusing to use the abilities granted by a Focus Mark while wearing one can be… stressful. Imagine trying to ignore a voice in your head showing you dozens of ways to beat someone, anyone, into submission, and then your least-favorite nephew offers you an insult in passing.

There have been a few incidents as we worked out how and when it’s best to use these Marks, but I digress.

The odd thing is that, boring as border patrol is, it’s fulfilling, in a way, so long as I use a Scouting Mark while I do it.

Rodin keeps warning us that we still didn’t know all that much about how Focus Magic really works and next to nothing about what side-effects it might have, but I’m not really worried about it. Discord was right about one thing: if I so much as ponder on the idea of removing a Focus Mark too hard, it vanishes from my skin.

… Whoops.

Case in point.

The mental gymnastics to forming these marks is difficult, but straightforward. All I have to do is focus on what I desired the mark to accomplish, to the exclusion of all else, for a few brief moments.

It’s actually harder than it sounds.

Naming and classifying the marks is actually helping though, I admit. It’s so much easier to focus on the idea of ‘I really, really want to manifest the Scouting Mark again’ than it was to focus on ‘I really, really want to see farther and with more detail, noticing what’s happening in my environment, and improving my skill with this bow and also with this warning horn…’

With my Mark back in place, I resume my patrol of this section of the border, my path finally taking me outside of the forest and back among the rolling hills of our new home.

I can’t see it from here, but our little village is starting to do more than just survive.

With an unending supply of wood at our backs, the public structures went up smoothly. We lost quite a bit of workers when martial law was lifted, but we guards weren’t left to do it ourselves; several families who had members in the guard, and a few that simply specialized in construction, kept on helping us, which I was thankful for. We actually only finished a few days ago, but even then everyone has been rather busy ever since.

My family, for one, staked out a swath of land far to the north; I’ve spent my off-duty hours dragging up lumber and helping them build a homestead out there, where father says the soil is perfect for growing wheat.

Quite a few families are doing similar things; most of us were farmers for most of our lives and are eager to return to the cycle of the seasons, out of sight of the main town.

Those whose livelihoods don’t involve great plots of land have constructed their own homes and shops around the public buildings, forming our own little town.

We’ve also had one more council since the last one, but the biggest issue raised there was whether or not we should start building a wall around the town.

Turns out that, no, we won’t be doing that.

It’s when I’m on patrol like this, seeing our new home first-hand, with a mark on my hand, that I’m the most content with my new lot in life. Sure, our old world ended in fire, and I will never forget that, but this is a new land, filled with new opportunities, and I get to help protect it.

My constantly searching eyes finally land on something colorful. Something colorful that isn’t red!

I notice it almost the instant that it enters my line of sight, as I crest a small hill. There’s a pony by the paint-border, a couple hundred paces ahead.

As my patrol continues to take me closer to it, I start to notice more details about it.

Her coat is blue, she has wings, and her mane is every color of the rainbow.

‘Loyalty!’ I realize.

Ever since her image was passed around to be memorized by the guard, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. This ‘Loyalty’ was the one who was grabbed by Rodin’s summoning spell all that time ago.

We were very lucky that hadn’t spawned an incident.

‘Actually, do we know that it didn’t?’

But I’m not paid to think about that.

My patrol is taking me right by her, and policy requires that I assess the threat posed by anything strange… This unfortunately qualifies.

“Halt!” I call out to the unmoving pegasus, “State your name and your business here.”

Her head whips from staring at the paint to staring at me with wide eyes and perked ears. After recovering from her surprise, she starts shifting nervously.

Even hearing through the grapevine that the language barrier somehow isn’t an issue anymore, hearing her speak is still a shock.

“O-Oh, uh… Hi there. Is Sophia around?”

Sophia? Isn’t that Everblaze’s daughter? My mouth is running on autopilot though; let it never be said that I abandoned policy at the wrong moment.

“External inquiries regarding citizens must be relayed through the governor, and inquiries regarding minors must be vetted through the appropriate guardian.”

“What? Look, can you just pass it on that I was looking for her? I wanted to apologize for leaving like I did.”

Her casual request taking the conversation firmly outside the realm of protocol, I raise an eyebrow at her; having a conversation with a solid fifteen feet of still-wet red paint separating us striking me as odd. That and all our first pony visitor wanted was to apologize to a kid?

This is a strange world, but it seems more and more that my best option is just to roll with the punches to my world-view.

“… I’ll make sure she gets the message,” I eventually replied.

“… Thanks, I guess.”

With that, the pegasus takes off like an arrow, her flight path arcing backwards and taking her east, her form rapidly dwindling into the distance.

‘She’s really fast, I’m impressed.’

As I continue my patrol, I can’t help but wonder how this… news is going to be received.

James Mender

“Okay, try it again,” Rodin says distractedly.

Finding a measure of inner peace through a moment’s meditation, I bend my will towards the magic Discord has given us, and it responds eagerly. I feel the slight tingle on my hands that accompanies the transition, and when I open my eyes, the image of a bright mote of light adorns the backs of my hands.

My mind is flooded with the raw feeling of iron strength, and I open the eyes of my spirit to better observe the change in me.

The changes are not readily apparent.

My spirit looks the same as it ever did, but as I cautiously manipulate my own emotions, I am awed by how easy it has become.

Turning my eyes to Rodin, I behold his own spirit.

Most spirits tend towards formlessness, loosely arranging around the general shape of the body they are connected to.

Spirit Weaver’s spirits, like my own, more closely mirror our bodies in form and detail. The more powerful one grows, the more exact the replica, up to a point.

Rodin, I only ever trained to the second rank. He did not meet the necessary requirements to progress any further, sadly. My own apprentices are currently third rank. Though Haley may yet be ready for her next test soon.

Still, given the time we merged minds, and also that he hasn’t displayed any of the warning signs, much of the danger with Rodin and third rank may have been averted. There would obviously need to be a great deal of lecturing first, but I might yet change my mind about how far to take him.

It would be a gamble; given his Rune Calling, I’m not entirely sure I could kill him if he succumbs and goes rogue.

What troubles me is that his spirit appears to be developing pronounced fingers. They are not yet separate, but he is certainly straddling the line between second and third rank. I am going to either need to train him further, or make him regress…

“Well that’s a bust,” Rodin snaps me out of my thoughts, his eyes ceasing their red glow. “I can see all the Focus Magic localizing in your hands, but it doesn’t look any different than it does for every other mark. Runic sight simply can’t detect Spirit Weaving energy, not even through the common link of Focus Magic.”

“It is good to know, though,” I assure him. “Another piece in the puzzle, as it were.”

“Oh sure, but it’s a little disappointing, isn’t it? I was hoping to-”

“Rodin! Glad I found you, there’s been contact with ponies!” A rather harried looking Governor makes his arrival in my hospital known. For his part, Rodin looks surprised.

“What do you need me for, Governor? I’m sure-”

“It’s about Sophia!”

“Tell me what happened!”

Rodin is on his feet in almost no time at all. With the eyes of my spirit still open, I get to watch as his surprise and curiosity is overwhelmed by a surge of fear for his daughter. In this moment, he would kill to protect her, I can see that clearly. It is a mark both for and against him, oddly enough.

“A patrol met that ‘Loyalty’ character, who you summoned before, remember? Called herself ‘Rainbow Dash’ if I remember correctly. Your daughter was the only one who could speak to her at the time. The report from the guard that just ran into her reads that she wanted to pass a message on to Sophia, and that needs both your and my approval.”

I decide to ask my own question, trying to speed this along. “So what has you all flustered, Alexander?”

I could help him calm himself down, but I do not. Minimal use of such power is safest, after all. He calms himself down easily enough anyway, using the ancient technique called ‘taking a number of deep breaths’.

“I’m sorry, but you would not believe the day I’ve been having, and this just about the last nail in my coffin! I haven’t had a moment’s rest since breakfast and-” As he keeps on rambling, Rodin looks like he’s slowly recovering from a small heart attack. A quick once over scan tells me he’s perfectly fine, though the quantity of adrenaline in his system is somewhat telling.

Potential incident passed, Rodin takes the message the guard had transcribed, and gives it a once over himself. When he finishes, he begins to collect his things.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mender, I need to go find Sophia.”

“By all means,” I assure him, “this is clearly something important.”

Flashing me a weak grin, he vanishes out the door, on the heels of a much more collected Governor. It would seem that all the stress was really getting to the Governor, now that the people were free to stir up mischief again. The daily squabbles of life have certainly returned, and not in a way that left the Governor much free time for much else.

Working slowly and deliberately, I made myself a cup of tea before settling myself in my hospital’s small office.

It takes me several minutes to work up the courage, but eventually I say the words.

“Discord, I want to cash in a favor.”

“Well that’s just wonderful! I’m so happy for you Mender!” The god just strolls through the wall as if he had been hiding behind the woodwork the entire time, as he very well might have, with a massive grin on his face. He holds a checklist, and crosses off a second of five boxes with a quill. “So, what will it be?”

I sip my tea slowly, forcing my emotions to stabilize as I collect myself. Fear and apprehension wouldn’t help here. I need to carefully phrase this, or it might come back to bite me, ‘friendly bet’ or no.

“I want you to find out and tell me exactly how far I can train Rodin, Haley, and Devin, before the chances that they would go rogue become unacceptably significant.”

Dear Princess Twilight Sparkle,

While I share your concerns, Discord has managed to convince Luna that his plan has a payoff high enough to be worth any potential side effects, and has volunteered to take full responsibility for any harm those side-effects cause to ponies. The salient point in their argument, however, seems to be that any damage to the land matters most to the ponies who occupy it and it would seem that the humans are the only ones in the affected area.

As far as the law is concerned, the land was granted to Discord two weeks ago for use in housing non-pony refugees as he sees fit. His decision to make use of chaos magic in such a pursuit is technically within the bounds of the law, as he is technically its steward for the time being, much as you are the steward of Ponyville and the surrounding lands. As you no doubt are aware, the use of magic to alter the landscape is part of his rights, and as the type of magic involved is not restricted, we don’t have a legal basis for reprimanding him. As he has pointed out. Several times.

Also, Luna’s night guards report that the airspace above the red border you mentioned is both impervious to any attempts at crossing, (including teleportation,) and covers those who attempt it in a very offensive odor that discouraged further attempts. It took Luna the better part of an hour to get the smell off of her guards.

That Discord has been enforcing the privacy of these humans for so long is somewhat concerning, but he has yet to give us reason to truly doubt his choices, and he assures us it is only a temporary measure.

Discord has also asked us to pass along a request from the humans’ leadership. They apparently will be calling for an ambassador to negotiate the terms of their presence in Equestria, and Discord requested that the initial true contact be with you specifically. He believes it would set the humans at ease, thinking that they would be dealing with the least experienced of the Princesses.

Should you agree to meet the humans as our ambassador, you will have Luna’s support and my own in making whatever concessions you think is necessary, as well as the authority to impose whatever restrictions you believe prudent.

I implore you to treat this as the delicate situation it is. After all, with Discord taking such a strong interest in them, the humans are sure to become a major part of life in Equestria, one way or another.

With regards to your other concern, I can tell you that there is nothing to worry about, though I’m afraid that any further discussion on this matter cannot be trusted to the written word. We will have to wait until we can discuss it further in person.

See you soon,
Princess Celestia.

Author's Note

Well, this is a thing. Here, have this thing.

No longer on hiatus, but I don't have a schedule hammered out quite yet.

P.S. For some reason, I really liked writing that letter.

Also, Fimfiction's formatting is fighting me, but I suspect it's a browser issue on my end. If I screw it up too much, someone please let me know.