How to Prevent the Apocalypse -- A Journalist's Taleby Door MattChaptersPrologue - Pillow TalkChapter 1 - Bottling ItChapter 2 - The Nag's HeadPrologue - Pillow TalkAs gentle waves fell one after another onto a sunburnt shore, two ponies in a nearby home gradually came up for air from their mattressy fortress. It was 11pm on a fine Tuesday morning, and the week to end all weeks had begun. "Hmmm....five." "Five!? You're kidding!" "Nope." "But...but...five?" "Yeah, wasn't as good as last time." "Wow. Okay. I'm lying right here y'know." "Psshh...hahahaha!" "Laughing? Really?" "Heeee....sorry. You're cute." "No I'm not." "Yes you are." "Clearly not." "You are!" "I told you before. Journalists can't be cute." "They can in your case. And didn't you say you were a reporter?" "Same thing." "Mmm..." ... ... ... "Oh by the way, was it you who wrote that piece on the mayor?" "Nah, that was Brian." "Oh." "He got an award for it too. No idea how he heard about the sheep to begin with." "Is that his real name?" "Eh?" "Brian." "Yeah...?" "Never heard a pony called that before." "Yeah...it's his name. He's always been called that." "Weird name though...don't you think?" "Weird name for a weird pony I guess." "He's weird?" "Uh...not exactly...he's different...best way to describe him really..." "Different?" "Well...he keeps talking about his pet gerbils at work..." "So?" "No I mean like...all the time...seriously. All the time." "So he likes gerbils. I love gerbils! My cousin had one years ago. They're spunky." "Don't ask me to buy you a gerbil." "I won't, don't worry. You can get me a cat though." "Ha! Not on your nelly." "Aww..." "Dogs are better anyway." "Mmkay." ... ... "What's the time?" "I 'unno. Why?" "Shops might still be open. Thinking of heading out for abit." "Oorrrr...you could just stay here..." "Ahh! Your hoof's cold!" ... ... "Such a wimp..." "Hey!" "Hehehe..." ... ... "You like bananas right?" "Huh?" "Do you like bananas?" "Kinda. I prefer pears I guess. Why?" "You need more fruit. I looked in your kitchen earlier. Barely got any." "You went through my kitchen?" "What? I was curious." "Uhh..." "Your diet must be terrible." "I'll eat what I want thanks. You're not my dietician." "Might get some...wait...those are real? Ponies do that for a living?" "Some do, yeah." "Huh..." "You think your job is better?" "I know mine is better. One hundred percent" "Really?" "Mmm! Don't forget I get to uncover all the dirty secrets in this town." "Okay, never do that again." "Do what?" "You winked as you said that. Never again. Especially not with me." ... "And like this town has any dirty secrets. Real ones." "Apart from the sheep thing?" "Okay...apart from the sheep thing, yeah. A one-off I guess." "Someone isn't looking in the right places..." "And you are?" "Maybe..." "You're winking again." "Oh crap...sorry..." ... "Ow!" "That'll happen every time you forget something I say." "That's abuse that is. Just cause you're a mare and I'm a stallion doesn't make that okay you know." "I didn't hit you any lower did I?" ... ... "Good point." "I thought so." ... ... ... "What's the big deal with 'dirty secrets' anyway? The Hayward Chronicle can survive on normal stories surely?" "Yeah...but...it gets so boring after a while. The same old stories week in, week out. It's so tedious it is writing those. I tried to liven up the wording once and my boss gave me an earful." ... ... "Sometimes having things stay the same isn't all bad you know." "Hmm?" "You said just now about the same old stories. At least that means nothing bad has happened. Everypony's going about happy and busy with their lives." "Mmm...maybe. Not a lot of adventure in that though..." ... ... ... "Hoo...right that's it. I'm going into town and I'm getting you some fruit. And toilet paper. You're out of that too." "Aww.....wait, wait a minute. You're not going to the pub are you?" ... ... "Well I wasn't going to til you put the idea into my head." "Oh...oopsies?" "Heh. Nah...just the shops I swear. Far too early to drink anyway." "Not in my book." "Well, your 'book' is a bad influence to fillies and that's why no-one would read it. It would be banned throughout Equestria." "Psshh." "Where's my tie?" "Uhh...under the bed?" "Ah...oh yeah...got it. You staying here then?" "Uh huh. But if you end up at that pub and I have to go get you, you'll regret it!" "No chance!" "Ach! Hey! Don't throw pillows at me!" "That was for saying five! See you later!" "Bye!" ... ... ... "Tch...moron..." "I heard that!" Author's Note Once again...don't panic. The rest of the story won't be entirely speech-based. Just liked the idea of a prologue being like it. I thought how best to create an original story and naturally the answer was to have totally new characters and even a new location. No Canterlot or Mane Six in sight here (yet). Time-wise isn't important at the moment but let's for now say this is set between seasons 2 and 3. The +1000 words thing surprised me at first; this was actually a lot shorter when I first tried to publish it so hopefully it doesn't feel too stretched out. I figure I'll let the prologue sit and stew for a few days and then publish the first chapter proper. Hope you enjoy! Chapter 1 - Bottling ItThe Nag's Head wasn't -- and never had been -- the most aesthetically pleasing structure in Hayward-on-Sea. It stood awkwardly on the corner between two streets, jutting out like an enlarged nose with its dark brickwork and imperial stacture. But, as some regulars and the owner would endlessly tell you, it could lay claim to being perhaps one of the oldest buildings in town, as well as offering fantastic views of the beach. Some historians even claimed that there was evidence for a pub standing on that spot for over a thousand years, pre-dating Luna's exile. Naturally, were one to ask for the evidence of such a case, said historians were apt to change the subject or complain about "missing paperwork". Residents in Hayward had a common saying that was quoted almost daily -- "There's nothing worse than parasprites. Except seagulls." At least parasprites had the arguable defence of being cute, in their own freakish way. No pony ever, ever, said the same of seagulls. In fact, in the history of the entire universe, only one pony would ever claim to love a seagull. While she did live in the same time as Breaker Fold, she did not feature in the majority of the following events, although some later argued she did play a crucial role in the final stages. Breaker Fold narrowly avoided being shat on as he stood opposite the pub, remembering his earlier conversation back at Misty's house. He glanced briefly at the offending white splat only a few feet away before looking up at the guilty party -- already flying his escape towards the surf. The beach here was long, almost ten miles of unbroken sand and stones, of which Hayward only bordered a part of. While towns like Canterlot and Manehatten had gradually grown and morphed over generations into full-blown cities, Hayward had always resisted expansion. Even now, it was only slightly larger than Ponyville, barely two miles from end to end and not quite a mile wide. What it did offer was remoteness (Las Pegasus lay a day's travel to the south, as the dragon flies. Not that dragons ever did make such grandiose trips to the coastal city of the pegasi. If they did, we would likely be discussing a pile of ash and burnt clouds instead of a city), great food and a chance for visiting ponies to enjoy time away from the hustle and bustle of usual life. Indeed, Hayward almost relied on tourism as one of its few reliable sources of income. That, and selling seashells to superstitious quacks in the capital. Gripping the bag of fruit and other assorted food items in his mouth, Breaker took one last look at The Nag's Head and sauntered onto the path running parallel to the sea. Misty probably wouldn't mind him taking the scenic route back, and it was a fine day to enjoy the weather. Hayward's pegasi weather team had evidently decided on light cloud cover, allowing for mostly uninterrupted sunshine. That said, autumn was in full swing and the constant crisp breeze kept the temperature down well below the highs of summer. A few ponies were down by the shoreline but it was nothing compared to the packed crowds that always flocked to the beach in summertime every year. Another one of Hayward's many constants. Coincidentally, if Breaker had chosen to enter the pub, it would've been around the exact moment a confused unicorn would be waking up with a large migraine in its wine cellar. Breaker glanced up every now and again to gaze at the horizon. Young pegasi often used the strong hot air currents that rose from the water to pull off slick tricks and maneuvers; a favoured dare involved pulling out of a dive as late as possible to avoid smashing into the surf. Nopony had ever called him the jealous type, but Breaker often envied the abilities of the "non earths". His passion for journalism he could remember having long before other memories, but for an earth pony, it had been somewhat of an uphill struggle to fulfill it. Well over ninety percent of journalists in Equestria were unicorns, as precise quill writing became an effortless task under the application of magic. Pegasi too were useful in the trade - often relaying important messages and the latest news across vast distances. The few earth ponies in journalism were either relegated to running the printing presses or placed in tedious management positions. Certainly nothing that had enticed Breaker. Fortunately for him, his dedication to mastering the difficult art of writing by mouth and years of practice had eventually paid off, resulting in a dream career position of “Investigative Journalist for the Hayward Gazette”. At least that was the wording on his office desk. He preferred telling anyone who asked simply: Breaker Fold, Reporter. As skillful using his mouth to write as he was using it to....do....something that is....far too inappropriate for this story's age rating. At any rate, it was the job he was born to do. And he knew it. As if somehow sensing the contents of his shopping, at least half a dozen gulls glided ominously overhead. Not wanting to have to take another shower that day, Breaker quickened his pace, keeping one eye on the sky. Approaching the turning he'd need to take to head back inland, he caught sight of a familiar figure hunched over on the sand. Reed. One of Misty's many, many cousins. She often joked about how her family's rampant ways would eventually result in the whole town being related to her. Breaker's parents hadn't seen the funny side...in what ended up being only his third most awkward family dinner meetup. The second had involved a lethal error with the stew, and the events of the first was headline news the next day. Naturally, as a reporter, Breaker's curiosity trait was high (when questioned why they had put so many skill points into Curiosity, his parents had replied that "it seemed like a good idea at the time"). He wandered over the sand to satisfy his officiousness. "Hey Reed." "Oh hey Fold," the young, pale-green foal replied, looking over. "Ooo oray ou ere ry yourrelf?" "Uhhh....what?" "Oh." Breaker carefully lowered the bags. "My bad. You okay out here by yourself?" "Yahh. Come look at this!" With unreserved glee, Reed skipped aside, revealing the object his body had hidden from Breaker's view. "Huh...where did you get this?" "I was looking for crabs and I found it sorta buried down by the waves." "Well...lucky you!" Breaker had never seen a message in a bottle before in real life. Naturally, they were a common legend throughout the coastal settlements but rarely were they actually found. Especially in a place like Hayward, where the most exciting thing to happen in the last hundred years was a brief visit by Princess Celestia - who promptly left, coincidentally just after trying fish and chips down at Dodgy Dave's restaurant. Lowering his neck, Breaker peered at the rolled up paper nestled tightly inside the glass. It looked remarkably...unremarkable. Just a bland sheet of paper. Hopefully it wasn't completely blank and the writing was on the inside. "I tried to get it open but...the cork's too tight." "Did you try magic?" Reed frowned, triggering a memory of Breaker’s. Word of mouth had it the kid was struggling with his magic. The vast majority of unicorns his age already had a semi-decent idea of where their magical talents lay. But, for some reason, Reed was lagging behind. Even basic levitation seemed beyond him. If the other kids in the local school gave him grief about it, he hid it well. "No but-" "Nevermind," Breaker replied, thinking quickly. "Pass it here." Reed nudged it over. "Alright. This'll be a cinch. What do you think'll be inside?" "Oooh, I dunno! That's the best part! It could be a message for help, or...a map! For treasure! Or somepony on the other side of the ocean trying to say hi!" Breaker inwardly chuckled. It was admittedly cute seeing the kid light up like that. Now it really would suck if the page was blank. Right now he himself couldn't begin to guess what would be written - this was all very much an unexpected turn of events. Whatever it was, he figured it probably wouldn't be newsworthy enough to take up much space in the Hayward Times, if at all. He clamped his hooves on either side of the glass and gripped the cork with his teeth. Immediately, he knew it would take at least three breath mints to clear the salty taste from his mouth. Here we go. He pulled. ... Ah. He pulled again. ... "Uh...Breaker?" Shut up. I can do this. He pulled a third time. ... ... ... "Well...crap." "It's not budging for you either huh?" "Affirmative little man." Nice one Breaker. Made yourself look like a pansy in front of the kid. "Hey, why don't you take this home with you and get some soap on there. That might dislodge it," Breaker said, running his tongue against his front teeth trying to dislodge some left-behind grit. "I guess..." "Alright then, I'll see you around yeah?" Breaker picked up the bags again and made to trot across the sand. He accomplished four steps before hearing a familiar sound. Magic. Of all the ponies who had attempted to describe the noise unicorn magic made, only one had not gone completely insane in the process. The closest she had to gotten to a description was on record as: "that whirly sparkly tone". Breaker swivelled round, intrigued to see Reed's green aura surrounding both his horn and the bottle cork. "Ey Ree, I ron't rink-" His jaw dropped - along with the bags - as the cork suddenly popped out as if only the slightest force had touched it. Immediately, Reed's magic dissipated. "Sweet Celestia, good going kiddo! I didn't know your magic was that developed!" Breaker exclaimed, walking towards the bottle. "Urmm....I didn't either?" Reed replied, pupils wide in shock. "I barely even tried..." "Doesn't matter now, eh? Go ahead and read it." Tipping the bottle at an angle and a couple of brief taps was all it took to release the paper. Breaker looked on as Reed's face contorted first into a wide smile as he unraveled the parchment, then dropped into disappointment, before finally wrenching into a picture of bafflement. "I don't....I don't get it Breaker. This is....you read it?" he said, looking up into his eyes. "Sure thing," Fold replied, craning his neck over. No maps. No call for help. No simple hello. Just seven short lines, written in an elegant style. This is the herald. Four signs come. One who resolveth the conflict of centuries. One who taketh from those with nothing. One who cureth the incurable. One who cheats death. The four will answer the call. And the apocalypse will begin. "What the bloody hell is this?" Misty heaved herself out of bed and pretended not to notice the time. Since Breaker had been gone for well over an hour, that could only mean one thing: The Nag's Head. Crap. Trust me to plant the thought in his head. She went over to the window, undecided on whether to go and haul his arse back. Though her place was a good distance from the ocean, the stench of salty waters easily reached her nose. On a rare, quiet, windless day, she could hear the gentle crashing of waves with ease. No such luck today though -- like most days the cool breeze ruffled the surface of her ginger fur and whined through her eardrums. A noise shortly joined by an ever-increasing patter of hooves on stone, and then- "Misty!" Breaker Fold exploded into view just down the road, emerging from the street that led directly to the beach. His red tie lurched dangerously as he made a sharp turn, barreling towards the house. "Misty!" What the tartarus? Misty hurriedly abandoned the window and rushed downstairs to let him in. She opened the door seconds before he could bang on it. "Everything okay?" she asked, worried at the almost crazed look in his eyes. His silver fur heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breathe. "I'm...gah...sorry...Reed...he found...message...you have to-" "Woah woah," she interrupted, trying to calm him down via a direct stare. "Say it again....slowly." "There's something you have to see." Author's Note Okay...first chapter proper. Probably a couple errors in there somewhere but nothing that can't be fixed later. Hope you stick around for the ride! Chapter 2 - The Nag's HeadThis is the herald. Four signs come. One who resolveth the conflict of centuries. One who taketh from those with nothing. One who cureth the incurable. One who cheats death. The four will answer the call. And the apocalypse will begin. Misty lowered the otherwise innocent-looking parchment and aimed her best 'are you kidding me' look at her buzzing partner, sat opposite. "Really?" "What?" "You do realise this is a joke right? You must get prank letters like this sent in all the time to your office," Misty said, sliding the parchment back across the table. "Sure we do, but nothing like this." Breaker jabbed at the paper again with his hoof, eyes wide with glee. "Look at the language. I don't think it was written recently; or from around here." Misty sighed and looked again at the wording. About to comment, she abruptly found her train of thought interrupted by a disturbance from across the room. A dark grey unicorn -- sitting at the bar and wearing some sort of cape -- began spouting off about being lost and "finding his hat". Late afternoon in the Nag's Head could sometimes be a weird place, but it was still relatively early for the alcoholic oddballs to be showing up already. Breaker looked up too, craning his neck to get a decent view above the ponies between them and the bar. Though by no means the largest pub in Equestria, the Nag’s Head could still easily fit over thirty ponies in the seating area alone. Typically at the weekend one would find the place packed with various ruffians, ne'er-do-wells and lecherous slimeballs. And that was just the ponies. Griffins occasionally frequented (especially on Poker Night); bringing their notorious firebrand tempers along for the ride. On the very rare occasions that zebras or diamond dogs showed up, the locals would immediately chant “New blood! New blood!” and intimidate the visitors into getting a round in for everyone. Breaker had been present for four such events in total, and always awoke the following morning with a head full of pounding hammers and thoughts of great regret. Thankfully -- it being midweek -- the famous pub was a far more family-friendly place. Just about. Usually... "Heh. Can you imagine me turning out like that?" Breaker asked, turning back to face over the table. "Yes." Misty quipped back. "You'd be there right now if it weren't for me." "Harsh." "But true." she smiled. Her eyes fell again on the second line. "So if you really think this means something, tell me what these things mean. The conflict of centuries?" "There's been no war that I know of lasting over a hundred years." Breaker replied, shrugging. "And I actually paid attention in history class. Something involving the dragons maybe?" "I thought we'd been at peace with them for ages." "Oh we have, but you can never tell with that lot. So secretive aren't they?" "Mm...I guess," Misty slunk back into her seat, noticing the approach of Bar Keep -- owner and ever-friendly bartender of the Nag's Head. In his mouth he gripped a tray supporting two drinks and a couple of cheese toasties, which he carefully lowered onto their table. "Sorry fer the wait guys. That bloody unicorn's been doin' my 'ed in all afternoon, chatting all sorts of nonsense he is." "No worries," Breaker replied, casting another eye over to the bar, where the drunk in question lurched dangerously close to toppling off his perch; the drink in his hoof spilling beer onto the counter. "He new in town?" "Must be. Not seen 'im before. An' I tell you what, I only went an' found 'im in the cellar earlier today. How the daft beggar got in there I'll never know." The stocky brown pony shook his black mane slightly. "I would kick him out, truth be told, but..." The hesitation told Breaker everything. "But you're charging him twenty bits for every beer, right?" he said, unable to resist holding back an evil smile. "That, lad, is a ludicrous claim. I've always said I do not approve of any shady business practices in my premises." Bar Keep turned and moved away a few feet, then looked back. "Jus' don't tell 'im that," he said winking, before striding firmly back to the bar. "Remind me why you haven't written an expose on this place?" Misty's expression to Breaker toted one of pure unamusement. "Every Saturday, I get two bits off of every drink. It's our deal," Breaker said, beaming. "Urgh." Misty tapped her hoof to her forehead. "Whatever. What's next...taking from those with nothing..." she said, looking again at the ink. If Bar Keep had noticed the parchment, he sure hadn't shown it. "Yeah, I have no clue what that means," Breaker said, also glancing it over. "Maybe these are...what's the word...metaphorical?" "Oh great. Peachy. So it's not a joke, it's some dang poet trying to be far too clever for himself?" Misty dug into her toastie angrily. "I don't know, I just know that whatever this is is special." Breaker also tucked in, having almost forgotten about the still warm food. "It's ike I omphos av 'is fee-" "Ugh! Don't talk with your mouth full! For Celestia's sake, what's wrong with you?" Misty shot back venomously. A small chunk of projectile bread had just grazed one of her ears and ended up in a nearby patron’s drink. Nervously, Breaker took the time to swallow. "Sorry. Bad habit. I said that it's like I have this feeling about this, but I don't know what exactly." “That’s just vague. I mean look at this stuff. It just gets dumb. The “incurable”? “Cheating death?””. “Hey now, at least we know what those bits mean.” Breaker washed down the cheesy snack with his drink. All the guilt he would’ve felt from drinking this early was quite handily suppressed by the desire to know exactly what he was dealing with. Plus it was Strongpone -- a personal favourite beverage that went well with...everything. “Eh?” Misty looked dumbfounded. “Erm...something that can’t be cured and something that didn’t die...right?” he said with a sheepish grin. “Mm.” Misty took the time to down the rest of her lemonade before shooting a quick glance to the clock on the wall. “Y’know Breaker, I haven’t really got the time for this crap. As it is I’m gonna be late with helping out for the festival tomorrow,” she said, flicking her head back to shift her pale red mane from her vision. Breaker briefly wondered if she was growing it out again. “Pfft. It can’t be that important. The Apples don’t get here til tomorrow, and you know how eager they are with helping out.” “It’s different this year! Applejack’s coming.” Misty’s hooves clopped together in glee. “So?” “She’s one of the Elements you dingbat-” “Oh come on…” Breaker interrupted. “That ‘Elements’ thing is as much media hype as anything else. I’m in the business, I know how this stuff works. “Saving the world three times?” They did it once with stopping Nightmare Moon, and then every few months later when the Canterlot Press gets bored with their usual guff, they’ll print an overblown crisis story just to get the six back in the public eye again.” “Wait, is that why you’ve never written a story on them?” Misty asked. “Yeah. It’s bad enough that Brian writes one at least once a week. I think him and the boss are secret fans.” Misty narrowed her eyes. “I still don’t believe that’s his real name.” “It is!” “Fine. Next you’ll be telling me Princess Celestia is behind this whole conspiracy.” An awkward pause blossomed forth like a forest floor in spring. “You knew about that?” Breaker shuffled in his seat and took another swig. “What,” Misty said, facehoofing. It wasn’t the most impressive or effective facehoof Breaker had ever seen, but he mentally gave her top marks for effort. “Well...that’s exactly what I think. I’ve got a thirty bit bet going with Dodgy Dave. He pays up if I can prove the princess is behind it all. Listen, she advises the media to print these stories, her personal student and her friends get to be heroes again, and they all share the credit while the presses sell out. Everypony wins, right?” Misty gave him the blankest of blank looks for a second. “Urgh. There’s been so many rumours going around since Twilight got coronated. I don’t need you going all ‘tin-foil hat nutter’ on me too.” “Fine. I won’t bring it up again. But it is true though,” Breaker said confidently, downing the rest of his beer. “Crap,” Misty caught sight of the time again and rose from the chair. “I have to go. You get all your weirdness out of your system now, okay? I want normal Breaker Fold back later.” “Sure thing dear,” he replied, smiling. “I hate seeing you go but I looovve watching you walk away-” “Get stuffed.” Breaker tried not to laugh as his marefriend made a very deliberate action of walking carefully to the exit backwards, giving him glaring evils the whole way. It was fun to tease her, but only fair as she’d started it way back when they’d first started seeing each other. “Eeer lad, I couldn’t help but overhear your little tale there.” The croaky voice came from the next table over -- it’s owner being one could quite accurately describe as being a ‘salty sailor’ type character, complete with the hat. The anchor cutie mark made it obvious to anyone not with sludge for brains. “Woah, hey there. You some kind of carpenter?” Breaker asked. He’d certainly seen this fellow previously on other pub days, usually on his own but always with a mug of rum present. “Close lad...close. I was thinking I had an answer for your little puzzle. I know who’s behind it.” “You do?” Breaker said, amazed. “Aye lad. It’s them darned sea-ponies!” he hissed, with real venom. “Ponies I know have seen them on their voyages...always watching beneath the waves...always hiding…” Annndddd there went the amazement. Clearly this guy had forgot his meds somewhere. Alright. Better wrap this up quick. “You don’t say?” Breaker said, folding back up the parchment and pocketing it. “Aye! I’ve seen them myself!” the regular spat, a line of drool falling slowly into his mug. “No-pony’s seen them lately, but we all know why! They’re preparing, conspiring, waiting to strike against us!” “Woah, that’s awful. Listen, I gotta go warn my mare right away!” Breaker said, attempted his best ‘shocked’ face. “Arrrr!” “Ahahaha, yeah. See you!” Dearly hoping he wouldn’t in fact see that pony again for a good few years, Breaker trotted briskly to the exit, flashing a waved hoof at Bar Keep on the way. At least that unicorn drunk appeared to have calmed down, what with the five drinks he’d apparently bought keeping the majority of his attention. I guess Tuesday is now ‘Wacko Day’. Note to self: avoid Nag’s Head on Tuesdays. Cold ocean air caressed Breaker’s fur as he left the building. He looked up instinctively to check for seagulls, but they’d all buggered off somewhere -- likely annoying tourists. Misty was going to be busy with her festival preparations for awhile, which meant he had a few hours to kill. Typically, that meant only one thing: Investigation Time. What do you have for me today, Hayward? He hummed a generic tune to himself as he strode down the street. It was never too late in the day to pick up an interesting story. Across the realms of eternity, a dark home floated in the cosmos. The home of a very important entity indeed. WHAT ARE THESE BEINGS CALLED? “I believe the book refers to them as “Ponies”, sir.” Death tapped the edge of the hourglass with a bony finger as he walked down the dark hallway of his study. Or glode. It was really hard to tell just by looking, as the black robe covered everything bar his skull and skeletal hands. His manservant Alfred strode alongside, peering at the engraved symbol upon the glass. ARE THEY NOT SIMPLY HORSES? “Perhaps sir, but it’s hard to tell with parasite dimensions.” INDEED. Death knew all about parasite dimensions, which helped immensely as he and Albert resided in one. Unlike host dimensions, they often included bizarrely different laws of physics and reality completely unto their own. The creatures that evolved and thrived in them could be unimaginable horrors of doom or beings that defied all sense of reason. Thankfully, they all died eventually, which was all Death was interested in. Except when they didn’t. “If I might hazard a guess here sir, I suspect that the individual has been mucking around with the time-stream-” OH, I HATE IT WHEN THEY DO THAT. IT ALL FLOWS SO NICELY UNTIL SOMEONE DECIDES TO RUIN IT FOR THE REST OF THEM. “You mean…?” YES. BY ALLOWING ONE DEATH TO FAIL, THE CHAIN OF UNDEATH WILL BEGIN AND SPREAD THROUGHOUT EXISTENCE UNTIL ALL IS UNDONE. The ceiling overhead glittered with the lights of the cosmos. The shelves upon shelves of hourglasses that lined the space below could -- mathematically speaking -- be explored thoroughly, but only if one had an eternity or two to spare. Inside each hourglass, the gentle trickle of sand kept track over the lifetime of every being to have ever existed. The flow of time was immovable; the sand would never stop flowing. Apart from the one in Death’s cold grip. It really shouldn’t have done that. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to enter appropriately then?” Albert ventured, looking ahead towards the probable end of the hallway. It was hard to tell in a space that didn’t have limits in the conventional sense. Or even in the meta-physical. YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL ALBERT. I SHALL PICK UP THE OTHER THREE ON THE WAY. IT’S BEEN A FAIR OLD WHILE SINCE WE RODE TOGETHER. Author's Note If that last part didn't make much sense to you - dear reader - then I don't believe you've had enough Discword in your life. But do not fear if that is the case, or fear the addition of the Crossover tag, for this is simply one of two cameos in the entire plot (as it stands so far). The rest is very much pone pone pone.
Prologue - Pillow TalkAs gentle waves fell one after another onto a sunburnt shore, two ponies in a nearby home gradually came up for air from their mattressy fortress. It was 11pm on a fine Tuesday morning, and the week to end all weeks had begun. "Hmmm....five." "Five!? You're kidding!" "Nope." "But...but...five?" "Yeah, wasn't as good as last time." "Wow. Okay. I'm lying right here y'know." "Psshh...hahahaha!" "Laughing? Really?" "Heeee....sorry. You're cute." "No I'm not." "Yes you are." "Clearly not." "You are!" "I told you before. Journalists can't be cute." "They can in your case. And didn't you say you were a reporter?" "Same thing." "Mmm..." ... ... ... "Oh by the way, was it you who wrote that piece on the mayor?" "Nah, that was Brian." "Oh." "He got an award for it too. No idea how he heard about the sheep to begin with." "Is that his real name?" "Eh?" "Brian." "Yeah...?" "Never heard a pony called that before." "Yeah...it's his name. He's always been called that." "Weird name though...don't you think?" "Weird name for a weird pony I guess." "He's weird?" "Uh...not exactly...he's different...best way to describe him really..." "Different?" "Well...he keeps talking about his pet gerbils at work..." "So?" "No I mean like...all the time...seriously. All the time." "So he likes gerbils. I love gerbils! My cousin had one years ago. They're spunky." "Don't ask me to buy you a gerbil." "I won't, don't worry. You can get me a cat though." "Ha! Not on your nelly." "Aww..." "Dogs are better anyway." "Mmkay." ... ... "What's the time?" "I 'unno. Why?" "Shops might still be open. Thinking of heading out for abit." "Oorrrr...you could just stay here..." "Ahh! Your hoof's cold!" ... ... "Such a wimp..." "Hey!" "Hehehe..." ... ... "You like bananas right?" "Huh?" "Do you like bananas?" "Kinda. I prefer pears I guess. Why?" "You need more fruit. I looked in your kitchen earlier. Barely got any." "You went through my kitchen?" "What? I was curious." "Uhh..." "Your diet must be terrible." "I'll eat what I want thanks. You're not my dietician." "Might get some...wait...those are real? Ponies do that for a living?" "Some do, yeah." "Huh..." "You think your job is better?" "I know mine is better. One hundred percent" "Really?" "Mmm! Don't forget I get to uncover all the dirty secrets in this town." "Okay, never do that again." "Do what?" "You winked as you said that. Never again. Especially not with me." ... "And like this town has any dirty secrets. Real ones." "Apart from the sheep thing?" "Okay...apart from the sheep thing, yeah. A one-off I guess." "Someone isn't looking in the right places..." "And you are?" "Maybe..." "You're winking again." "Oh crap...sorry..." ... "Ow!" "That'll happen every time you forget something I say." "That's abuse that is. Just cause you're a mare and I'm a stallion doesn't make that okay you know." "I didn't hit you any lower did I?" ... ... "Good point." "I thought so." ... ... ... "What's the big deal with 'dirty secrets' anyway? The Hayward Chronicle can survive on normal stories surely?" "Yeah...but...it gets so boring after a while. The same old stories week in, week out. It's so tedious it is writing those. I tried to liven up the wording once and my boss gave me an earful." ... ... "Sometimes having things stay the same isn't all bad you know." "Hmm?" "You said just now about the same old stories. At least that means nothing bad has happened. Everypony's going about happy and busy with their lives." "Mmm...maybe. Not a lot of adventure in that though..." ... ... ... "Hoo...right that's it. I'm going into town and I'm getting you some fruit. And toilet paper. You're out of that too." "Aww.....wait, wait a minute. You're not going to the pub are you?" ... ... "Well I wasn't going to til you put the idea into my head." "Oh...oopsies?" "Heh. Nah...just the shops I swear. Far too early to drink anyway." "Not in my book." "Well, your 'book' is a bad influence to fillies and that's why no-one would read it. It would be banned throughout Equestria." "Psshh." "Where's my tie?" "Uhh...under the bed?" "Ah...oh yeah...got it. You staying here then?" "Uh huh. But if you end up at that pub and I have to go get you, you'll regret it!" "No chance!" "Ach! Hey! Don't throw pillows at me!" "That was for saying five! See you later!" "Bye!" ... ... ... "Tch...moron..." "I heard that!" Author's Note Once again...don't panic. The rest of the story won't be entirely speech-based. Just liked the idea of a prologue being like it. I thought how best to create an original story and naturally the answer was to have totally new characters and even a new location. No Canterlot or Mane Six in sight here (yet). Time-wise isn't important at the moment but let's for now say this is set between seasons 2 and 3. The +1000 words thing surprised me at first; this was actually a lot shorter when I first tried to publish it so hopefully it doesn't feel too stretched out. I figure I'll let the prologue sit and stew for a few days and then publish the first chapter proper. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1 - Bottling ItThe Nag's Head wasn't -- and never had been -- the most aesthetically pleasing structure in Hayward-on-Sea. It stood awkwardly on the corner between two streets, jutting out like an enlarged nose with its dark brickwork and imperial stacture. But, as some regulars and the owner would endlessly tell you, it could lay claim to being perhaps one of the oldest buildings in town, as well as offering fantastic views of the beach. Some historians even claimed that there was evidence for a pub standing on that spot for over a thousand years, pre-dating Luna's exile. Naturally, were one to ask for the evidence of such a case, said historians were apt to change the subject or complain about "missing paperwork". Residents in Hayward had a common saying that was quoted almost daily -- "There's nothing worse than parasprites. Except seagulls." At least parasprites had the arguable defence of being cute, in their own freakish way. No pony ever, ever, said the same of seagulls. In fact, in the history of the entire universe, only one pony would ever claim to love a seagull. While she did live in the same time as Breaker Fold, she did not feature in the majority of the following events, although some later argued she did play a crucial role in the final stages. Breaker Fold narrowly avoided being shat on as he stood opposite the pub, remembering his earlier conversation back at Misty's house. He glanced briefly at the offending white splat only a few feet away before looking up at the guilty party -- already flying his escape towards the surf. The beach here was long, almost ten miles of unbroken sand and stones, of which Hayward only bordered a part of. While towns like Canterlot and Manehatten had gradually grown and morphed over generations into full-blown cities, Hayward had always resisted expansion. Even now, it was only slightly larger than Ponyville, barely two miles from end to end and not quite a mile wide. What it did offer was remoteness (Las Pegasus lay a day's travel to the south, as the dragon flies. Not that dragons ever did make such grandiose trips to the coastal city of the pegasi. If they did, we would likely be discussing a pile of ash and burnt clouds instead of a city), great food and a chance for visiting ponies to enjoy time away from the hustle and bustle of usual life. Indeed, Hayward almost relied on tourism as one of its few reliable sources of income. That, and selling seashells to superstitious quacks in the capital. Gripping the bag of fruit and other assorted food items in his mouth, Breaker took one last look at The Nag's Head and sauntered onto the path running parallel to the sea. Misty probably wouldn't mind him taking the scenic route back, and it was a fine day to enjoy the weather. Hayward's pegasi weather team had evidently decided on light cloud cover, allowing for mostly uninterrupted sunshine. That said, autumn was in full swing and the constant crisp breeze kept the temperature down well below the highs of summer. A few ponies were down by the shoreline but it was nothing compared to the packed crowds that always flocked to the beach in summertime every year. Another one of Hayward's many constants. Coincidentally, if Breaker had chosen to enter the pub, it would've been around the exact moment a confused unicorn would be waking up with a large migraine in its wine cellar. Breaker glanced up every now and again to gaze at the horizon. Young pegasi often used the strong hot air currents that rose from the water to pull off slick tricks and maneuvers; a favoured dare involved pulling out of a dive as late as possible to avoid smashing into the surf. Nopony had ever called him the jealous type, but Breaker often envied the abilities of the "non earths". His passion for journalism he could remember having long before other memories, but for an earth pony, it had been somewhat of an uphill struggle to fulfill it. Well over ninety percent of journalists in Equestria were unicorns, as precise quill writing became an effortless task under the application of magic. Pegasi too were useful in the trade - often relaying important messages and the latest news across vast distances. The few earth ponies in journalism were either relegated to running the printing presses or placed in tedious management positions. Certainly nothing that had enticed Breaker. Fortunately for him, his dedication to mastering the difficult art of writing by mouth and years of practice had eventually paid off, resulting in a dream career position of “Investigative Journalist for the Hayward Gazette”. At least that was the wording on his office desk. He preferred telling anyone who asked simply: Breaker Fold, Reporter. As skillful using his mouth to write as he was using it to....do....something that is....far too inappropriate for this story's age rating. At any rate, it was the job he was born to do. And he knew it. As if somehow sensing the contents of his shopping, at least half a dozen gulls glided ominously overhead. Not wanting to have to take another shower that day, Breaker quickened his pace, keeping one eye on the sky. Approaching the turning he'd need to take to head back inland, he caught sight of a familiar figure hunched over on the sand. Reed. One of Misty's many, many cousins. She often joked about how her family's rampant ways would eventually result in the whole town being related to her. Breaker's parents hadn't seen the funny side...in what ended up being only his third most awkward family dinner meetup. The second had involved a lethal error with the stew, and the events of the first was headline news the next day. Naturally, as a reporter, Breaker's curiosity trait was high (when questioned why they had put so many skill points into Curiosity, his parents had replied that "it seemed like a good idea at the time"). He wandered over the sand to satisfy his officiousness. "Hey Reed." "Oh hey Fold," the young, pale-green foal replied, looking over. "Ooo oray ou ere ry yourrelf?" "Uhhh....what?" "Oh." Breaker carefully lowered the bags. "My bad. You okay out here by yourself?" "Yahh. Come look at this!" With unreserved glee, Reed skipped aside, revealing the object his body had hidden from Breaker's view. "Huh...where did you get this?" "I was looking for crabs and I found it sorta buried down by the waves." "Well...lucky you!" Breaker had never seen a message in a bottle before in real life. Naturally, they were a common legend throughout the coastal settlements but rarely were they actually found. Especially in a place like Hayward, where the most exciting thing to happen in the last hundred years was a brief visit by Princess Celestia - who promptly left, coincidentally just after trying fish and chips down at Dodgy Dave's restaurant. Lowering his neck, Breaker peered at the rolled up paper nestled tightly inside the glass. It looked remarkably...unremarkable. Just a bland sheet of paper. Hopefully it wasn't completely blank and the writing was on the inside. "I tried to get it open but...the cork's too tight." "Did you try magic?" Reed frowned, triggering a memory of Breaker’s. Word of mouth had it the kid was struggling with his magic. The vast majority of unicorns his age already had a semi-decent idea of where their magical talents lay. But, for some reason, Reed was lagging behind. Even basic levitation seemed beyond him. If the other kids in the local school gave him grief about it, he hid it well. "No but-" "Nevermind," Breaker replied, thinking quickly. "Pass it here." Reed nudged it over. "Alright. This'll be a cinch. What do you think'll be inside?" "Oooh, I dunno! That's the best part! It could be a message for help, or...a map! For treasure! Or somepony on the other side of the ocean trying to say hi!" Breaker inwardly chuckled. It was admittedly cute seeing the kid light up like that. Now it really would suck if the page was blank. Right now he himself couldn't begin to guess what would be written - this was all very much an unexpected turn of events. Whatever it was, he figured it probably wouldn't be newsworthy enough to take up much space in the Hayward Times, if at all. He clamped his hooves on either side of the glass and gripped the cork with his teeth. Immediately, he knew it would take at least three breath mints to clear the salty taste from his mouth. Here we go. He pulled. ... Ah. He pulled again. ... "Uh...Breaker?" Shut up. I can do this. He pulled a third time. ... ... ... "Well...crap." "It's not budging for you either huh?" "Affirmative little man." Nice one Breaker. Made yourself look like a pansy in front of the kid. "Hey, why don't you take this home with you and get some soap on there. That might dislodge it," Breaker said, running his tongue against his front teeth trying to dislodge some left-behind grit. "I guess..." "Alright then, I'll see you around yeah?" Breaker picked up the bags again and made to trot across the sand. He accomplished four steps before hearing a familiar sound. Magic. Of all the ponies who had attempted to describe the noise unicorn magic made, only one had not gone completely insane in the process. The closest she had to gotten to a description was on record as: "that whirly sparkly tone". Breaker swivelled round, intrigued to see Reed's green aura surrounding both his horn and the bottle cork. "Ey Ree, I ron't rink-" His jaw dropped - along with the bags - as the cork suddenly popped out as if only the slightest force had touched it. Immediately, Reed's magic dissipated. "Sweet Celestia, good going kiddo! I didn't know your magic was that developed!" Breaker exclaimed, walking towards the bottle. "Urmm....I didn't either?" Reed replied, pupils wide in shock. "I barely even tried..." "Doesn't matter now, eh? Go ahead and read it." Tipping the bottle at an angle and a couple of brief taps was all it took to release the paper. Breaker looked on as Reed's face contorted first into a wide smile as he unraveled the parchment, then dropped into disappointment, before finally wrenching into a picture of bafflement. "I don't....I don't get it Breaker. This is....you read it?" he said, looking up into his eyes. "Sure thing," Fold replied, craning his neck over. No maps. No call for help. No simple hello. Just seven short lines, written in an elegant style. This is the herald. Four signs come. One who resolveth the conflict of centuries. One who taketh from those with nothing. One who cureth the incurable. One who cheats death. The four will answer the call. And the apocalypse will begin. "What the bloody hell is this?" Misty heaved herself out of bed and pretended not to notice the time. Since Breaker had been gone for well over an hour, that could only mean one thing: The Nag's Head. Crap. Trust me to plant the thought in his head. She went over to the window, undecided on whether to go and haul his arse back. Though her place was a good distance from the ocean, the stench of salty waters easily reached her nose. On a rare, quiet, windless day, she could hear the gentle crashing of waves with ease. No such luck today though -- like most days the cool breeze ruffled the surface of her ginger fur and whined through her eardrums. A noise shortly joined by an ever-increasing patter of hooves on stone, and then- "Misty!" Breaker Fold exploded into view just down the road, emerging from the street that led directly to the beach. His red tie lurched dangerously as he made a sharp turn, barreling towards the house. "Misty!" What the tartarus? Misty hurriedly abandoned the window and rushed downstairs to let him in. She opened the door seconds before he could bang on it. "Everything okay?" she asked, worried at the almost crazed look in his eyes. His silver fur heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breathe. "I'm...gah...sorry...Reed...he found...message...you have to-" "Woah woah," she interrupted, trying to calm him down via a direct stare. "Say it again....slowly." "There's something you have to see." Author's Note Okay...first chapter proper. Probably a couple errors in there somewhere but nothing that can't be fixed later. Hope you stick around for the ride!
Chapter 2 - The Nag's HeadThis is the herald. Four signs come. One who resolveth the conflict of centuries. One who taketh from those with nothing. One who cureth the incurable. One who cheats death. The four will answer the call. And the apocalypse will begin. Misty lowered the otherwise innocent-looking parchment and aimed her best 'are you kidding me' look at her buzzing partner, sat opposite. "Really?" "What?" "You do realise this is a joke right? You must get prank letters like this sent in all the time to your office," Misty said, sliding the parchment back across the table. "Sure we do, but nothing like this." Breaker jabbed at the paper again with his hoof, eyes wide with glee. "Look at the language. I don't think it was written recently; or from around here." Misty sighed and looked again at the wording. About to comment, she abruptly found her train of thought interrupted by a disturbance from across the room. A dark grey unicorn -- sitting at the bar and wearing some sort of cape -- began spouting off about being lost and "finding his hat". Late afternoon in the Nag's Head could sometimes be a weird place, but it was still relatively early for the alcoholic oddballs to be showing up already. Breaker looked up too, craning his neck to get a decent view above the ponies between them and the bar. Though by no means the largest pub in Equestria, the Nag’s Head could still easily fit over thirty ponies in the seating area alone. Typically at the weekend one would find the place packed with various ruffians, ne'er-do-wells and lecherous slimeballs. And that was just the ponies. Griffins occasionally frequented (especially on Poker Night); bringing their notorious firebrand tempers along for the ride. On the very rare occasions that zebras or diamond dogs showed up, the locals would immediately chant “New blood! New blood!” and intimidate the visitors into getting a round in for everyone. Breaker had been present for four such events in total, and always awoke the following morning with a head full of pounding hammers and thoughts of great regret. Thankfully -- it being midweek -- the famous pub was a far more family-friendly place. Just about. Usually... "Heh. Can you imagine me turning out like that?" Breaker asked, turning back to face over the table. "Yes." Misty quipped back. "You'd be there right now if it weren't for me." "Harsh." "But true." she smiled. Her eyes fell again on the second line. "So if you really think this means something, tell me what these things mean. The conflict of centuries?" "There's been no war that I know of lasting over a hundred years." Breaker replied, shrugging. "And I actually paid attention in history class. Something involving the dragons maybe?" "I thought we'd been at peace with them for ages." "Oh we have, but you can never tell with that lot. So secretive aren't they?" "Mm...I guess," Misty slunk back into her seat, noticing the approach of Bar Keep -- owner and ever-friendly bartender of the Nag's Head. In his mouth he gripped a tray supporting two drinks and a couple of cheese toasties, which he carefully lowered onto their table. "Sorry fer the wait guys. That bloody unicorn's been doin' my 'ed in all afternoon, chatting all sorts of nonsense he is." "No worries," Breaker replied, casting another eye over to the bar, where the drunk in question lurched dangerously close to toppling off his perch; the drink in his hoof spilling beer onto the counter. "He new in town?" "Must be. Not seen 'im before. An' I tell you what, I only went an' found 'im in the cellar earlier today. How the daft beggar got in there I'll never know." The stocky brown pony shook his black mane slightly. "I would kick him out, truth be told, but..." The hesitation told Breaker everything. "But you're charging him twenty bits for every beer, right?" he said, unable to resist holding back an evil smile. "That, lad, is a ludicrous claim. I've always said I do not approve of any shady business practices in my premises." Bar Keep turned and moved away a few feet, then looked back. "Jus' don't tell 'im that," he said winking, before striding firmly back to the bar. "Remind me why you haven't written an expose on this place?" Misty's expression to Breaker toted one of pure unamusement. "Every Saturday, I get two bits off of every drink. It's our deal," Breaker said, beaming. "Urgh." Misty tapped her hoof to her forehead. "Whatever. What's next...taking from those with nothing..." she said, looking again at the ink. If Bar Keep had noticed the parchment, he sure hadn't shown it. "Yeah, I have no clue what that means," Breaker said, also glancing it over. "Maybe these are...what's the word...metaphorical?" "Oh great. Peachy. So it's not a joke, it's some dang poet trying to be far too clever for himself?" Misty dug into her toastie angrily. "I don't know, I just know that whatever this is is special." Breaker also tucked in, having almost forgotten about the still warm food. "It's ike I omphos av 'is fee-" "Ugh! Don't talk with your mouth full! For Celestia's sake, what's wrong with you?" Misty shot back venomously. A small chunk of projectile bread had just grazed one of her ears and ended up in a nearby patron’s drink. Nervously, Breaker took the time to swallow. "Sorry. Bad habit. I said that it's like I have this feeling about this, but I don't know what exactly." “That’s just vague. I mean look at this stuff. It just gets dumb. The “incurable”? “Cheating death?””. “Hey now, at least we know what those bits mean.” Breaker washed down the cheesy snack with his drink. All the guilt he would’ve felt from drinking this early was quite handily suppressed by the desire to know exactly what he was dealing with. Plus it was Strongpone -- a personal favourite beverage that went well with...everything. “Eh?” Misty looked dumbfounded. “Erm...something that can’t be cured and something that didn’t die...right?” he said with a sheepish grin. “Mm.” Misty took the time to down the rest of her lemonade before shooting a quick glance to the clock on the wall. “Y’know Breaker, I haven’t really got the time for this crap. As it is I’m gonna be late with helping out for the festival tomorrow,” she said, flicking her head back to shift her pale red mane from her vision. Breaker briefly wondered if she was growing it out again. “Pfft. It can’t be that important. The Apples don’t get here til tomorrow, and you know how eager they are with helping out.” “It’s different this year! Applejack’s coming.” Misty’s hooves clopped together in glee. “So?” “She’s one of the Elements you dingbat-” “Oh come on…” Breaker interrupted. “That ‘Elements’ thing is as much media hype as anything else. I’m in the business, I know how this stuff works. “Saving the world three times?” They did it once with stopping Nightmare Moon, and then every few months later when the Canterlot Press gets bored with their usual guff, they’ll print an overblown crisis story just to get the six back in the public eye again.” “Wait, is that why you’ve never written a story on them?” Misty asked. “Yeah. It’s bad enough that Brian writes one at least once a week. I think him and the boss are secret fans.” Misty narrowed her eyes. “I still don’t believe that’s his real name.” “It is!” “Fine. Next you’ll be telling me Princess Celestia is behind this whole conspiracy.” An awkward pause blossomed forth like a forest floor in spring. “You knew about that?” Breaker shuffled in his seat and took another swig. “What,” Misty said, facehoofing. It wasn’t the most impressive or effective facehoof Breaker had ever seen, but he mentally gave her top marks for effort. “Well...that’s exactly what I think. I’ve got a thirty bit bet going with Dodgy Dave. He pays up if I can prove the princess is behind it all. Listen, she advises the media to print these stories, her personal student and her friends get to be heroes again, and they all share the credit while the presses sell out. Everypony wins, right?” Misty gave him the blankest of blank looks for a second. “Urgh. There’s been so many rumours going around since Twilight got coronated. I don’t need you going all ‘tin-foil hat nutter’ on me too.” “Fine. I won’t bring it up again. But it is true though,” Breaker said confidently, downing the rest of his beer. “Crap,” Misty caught sight of the time again and rose from the chair. “I have to go. You get all your weirdness out of your system now, okay? I want normal Breaker Fold back later.” “Sure thing dear,” he replied, smiling. “I hate seeing you go but I looovve watching you walk away-” “Get stuffed.” Breaker tried not to laugh as his marefriend made a very deliberate action of walking carefully to the exit backwards, giving him glaring evils the whole way. It was fun to tease her, but only fair as she’d started it way back when they’d first started seeing each other. “Eeer lad, I couldn’t help but overhear your little tale there.” The croaky voice came from the next table over -- it’s owner being one could quite accurately describe as being a ‘salty sailor’ type character, complete with the hat. The anchor cutie mark made it obvious to anyone not with sludge for brains. “Woah, hey there. You some kind of carpenter?” Breaker asked. He’d certainly seen this fellow previously on other pub days, usually on his own but always with a mug of rum present. “Close lad...close. I was thinking I had an answer for your little puzzle. I know who’s behind it.” “You do?” Breaker said, amazed. “Aye lad. It’s them darned sea-ponies!” he hissed, with real venom. “Ponies I know have seen them on their voyages...always watching beneath the waves...always hiding…” Annndddd there went the amazement. Clearly this guy had forgot his meds somewhere. Alright. Better wrap this up quick. “You don’t say?” Breaker said, folding back up the parchment and pocketing it. “Aye! I’ve seen them myself!” the regular spat, a line of drool falling slowly into his mug. “No-pony’s seen them lately, but we all know why! They’re preparing, conspiring, waiting to strike against us!” “Woah, that’s awful. Listen, I gotta go warn my mare right away!” Breaker said, attempted his best ‘shocked’ face. “Arrrr!” “Ahahaha, yeah. See you!” Dearly hoping he wouldn’t in fact see that pony again for a good few years, Breaker trotted briskly to the exit, flashing a waved hoof at Bar Keep on the way. At least that unicorn drunk appeared to have calmed down, what with the five drinks he’d apparently bought keeping the majority of his attention. I guess Tuesday is now ‘Wacko Day’. Note to self: avoid Nag’s Head on Tuesdays. Cold ocean air caressed Breaker’s fur as he left the building. He looked up instinctively to check for seagulls, but they’d all buggered off somewhere -- likely annoying tourists. Misty was going to be busy with her festival preparations for awhile, which meant he had a few hours to kill. Typically, that meant only one thing: Investigation Time. What do you have for me today, Hayward? He hummed a generic tune to himself as he strode down the street. It was never too late in the day to pick up an interesting story. Across the realms of eternity, a dark home floated in the cosmos. The home of a very important entity indeed. WHAT ARE THESE BEINGS CALLED? “I believe the book refers to them as “Ponies”, sir.” Death tapped the edge of the hourglass with a bony finger as he walked down the dark hallway of his study. Or glode. It was really hard to tell just by looking, as the black robe covered everything bar his skull and skeletal hands. His manservant Alfred strode alongside, peering at the engraved symbol upon the glass. ARE THEY NOT SIMPLY HORSES? “Perhaps sir, but it’s hard to tell with parasite dimensions.” INDEED. Death knew all about parasite dimensions, which helped immensely as he and Albert resided in one. Unlike host dimensions, they often included bizarrely different laws of physics and reality completely unto their own. The creatures that evolved and thrived in them could be unimaginable horrors of doom or beings that defied all sense of reason. Thankfully, they all died eventually, which was all Death was interested in. Except when they didn’t. “If I might hazard a guess here sir, I suspect that the individual has been mucking around with the time-stream-” OH, I HATE IT WHEN THEY DO THAT. IT ALL FLOWS SO NICELY UNTIL SOMEONE DECIDES TO RUIN IT FOR THE REST OF THEM. “You mean…?” YES. BY ALLOWING ONE DEATH TO FAIL, THE CHAIN OF UNDEATH WILL BEGIN AND SPREAD THROUGHOUT EXISTENCE UNTIL ALL IS UNDONE. The ceiling overhead glittered with the lights of the cosmos. The shelves upon shelves of hourglasses that lined the space below could -- mathematically speaking -- be explored thoroughly, but only if one had an eternity or two to spare. Inside each hourglass, the gentle trickle of sand kept track over the lifetime of every being to have ever existed. The flow of time was immovable; the sand would never stop flowing. Apart from the one in Death’s cold grip. It really shouldn’t have done that. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to enter appropriately then?” Albert ventured, looking ahead towards the probable end of the hallway. It was hard to tell in a space that didn’t have limits in the conventional sense. Or even in the meta-physical. YOU KNOW ME TOO WELL ALBERT. I SHALL PICK UP THE OTHER THREE ON THE WAY. IT’S BEEN A FAIR OLD WHILE SINCE WE RODE TOGETHER. Author's Note If that last part didn't make much sense to you - dear reader - then I don't believe you've had enough Discword in your life. But do not fear if that is the case, or fear the addition of the Crossover tag, for this is simply one of two cameos in the entire plot (as it stands so far). The rest is very much pone pone pone.
