The Madgod's Summons

Chapters

Ghosts of the Future and Past
Canterlot, the Place Where Chaos Happens!
The Fringe Has Eyes

Ghosts of the Future and Past

“I am a Prince from the realm of the Daedra.”

The Deadric Prince of Madness, Sheogorath: a humanoid demon who finds enjoyment in the manipulation of others through their minds. Controlling the powers of Dementia and Mania, he gained a following in the realm of the living through his small interventions in their world.

“Don’t get confused with the realm of the Aedra.”

He had always played games with his subjects, manipulating them and driving them insane, sometimes for the best. But the Madness he controlled was only a curse cast upon the being he had once been. For what better torture to Order is there, than Madness?

“I met a beast whose powers would amaze ya!”

The curse was finally broken, after eons of alternating between the Prince of Order, Jyggalag, and the Prince of Madness. Sheogorath recruited a Champion from the realm of humans, and in the end, that Champion both freed and killed him. The Madgod was left without a body or a world.

“But we were split, ‘cause Harmony saved ya!”

His spirit wandered from realm to realm, searching for a body to occupy, one that could hold his full power without breaking. Only one such being was found during his journey, an abomination of nature in a world dominated by an innate magical energy. The abomination itself was capable of magic rivaling that of Madness—Chaos, it was called.

“Now I’m back sitting on my throne,”

The two powerful beings grew close together, only to be split by drastic differences in their desires to use their powers. The Madgod wanted domination, but all Chaos wanted was fun. In the end, the two beings fought for the fate of the magical land.

“…munching on cheese atop a scone.”

Chaos defeated Madness with the help of Harmony, the powerful protector of the magical realm. Accepting that he shouldn’t interfere in such a peaceful and bizarre world, the Madgod said his farewells and erased all trace of his acts as he left. With only one goal in mind, he set out for his original home: the Shivering Isles.

“But in my heart I’ve always known,”

Regaining a throne—though only a copy of his original—Sheogorath settled back into his comfortable life as a ruler-god. His subjects worshipped him and bent to his will once more. He was happy, enjoying his food and drink and renown. But something deep within the reaches of his heart continued to plague his thoughts…

“…that we’d meet again in a world of my own…”

In his dreams, he could see the figure of the abomination he had once battled. The Madgod felt an uncertain dread in his gut, calling out to Chaos through the realms of reality. Why he was being plagued, not even he could explain. But one thing was certain: Madness and Chaos would clash once again, but to what end and for what reason could not be determined…

***

High atop the tallest mountain in the land, a robed figure sat on the crumbling remains of a once-glorious statue. All around him, cracked, burnt earth jutted out from the mountaintop, a grim reminder of the events that had transpired over the course of the last three days. In the distance in any direction, thick black clouds bombarded the world with lightning and acid rain. Fires raged on the southwestern edge of the main island, while sheets of ice swallowed the northeastern portion.

The mysterious figure leaned heavily on his wooden staff, staring off at the ruins of a great city a few miles to the south of the mountain. Where the glorious capital of the island once stood, a deep black vortex of demonic energy swirled menacingly, pulling in most of the remaining living beings in the world. The figure stared on; watching beast and man alike get swallowed by the anomaly, his eyes burned with a golden rage that could only be compared to that of his brother.

A single concentrated bolt of lightning crashed down in the center of the vortex, sending a shockwave of destructive energy across the island. Even the mountain trembled under the force, sending more plates of earth bursting from the summit. The statue currently being used as a seat crumbled further, sending its occupant to the ground in an angry heap.

“Bloody statue!” the figure snapped, bashing the remaining base with his staff. As he struggled to his feet, an uprooted tree zoomed past, taking the rest of the statue with it. Passing by him with mere inches from direct contact, the tree hurtled toward the life-eating anomaly with no chance of survival.

Taking a deep breath and regaining his bearings, the figure growled, “That beast had best hurry back! If we don’t leave soon…” He glanced back at the vortex, still more plants and animals being sucked in indiscriminately.

A voice called out from behind him, “Ask and you shall receive, Madgod.” With a light golden glow, in bright contrast to the shadows of the clouds above them, another robed figure appeared at the tip of what was once a grand staircase leading up to the grand statue. Taking several slow steps toward the first figure, the new arrival lowered his hood.

Underneath the hood, a young, pink, scowling face radiated with anger. Bright white unruly hair crawled from the man’s head, with a long thick goat patch beard streaming from his chin. Bright red pupils against large white eyes broke through the dim light with little effort. As he approached the man referred to as ‘Madgod,’ his scowl twisted into a grin.

The Madgod chuckled solemnly, “Have you been to see it? Has He reached it yet?”

“No, not quite,” came a somewhat smug response. “Maybe He popped off for a snack or two? I’m certain a demon like Him has plenty of scores to settle!”

“Is this a game to you?!” the Madgod snapped, swinging his staff violently in the figure’s direction. "My world is in shambles! My subjects are devoured! Our magics are powerless against His!” Each exclamation was accompanied by another swing of the staff.

“Sheogorath, my friend, you need to lighten up.”

As he was about to burst again, the Madgod suddenly lost his vigor, instead simply sighing, “Perhaps you are right, Discord. What’s done is done, and cannot be undone, no matter the level of done-ness.” Dropping his staff, the Madgod lowered his hood.

An aged, pink face met the dim light of the world. The Madgod’s hair was thick and white, slicked back in contrast to the other man’s. He sported a full white goatee, which added a sense of class to his demeanor. Thick golden eyes cut through the darkness, meeting the red of the visitor’s with slit pupils.

The man known as Discord scoffed, “I won’t say we can’t fix this. After all, you undid the damage to my world…” After a long pause of staring into the Madgod’s eyes, he continued, “It won’t be easy, and we can’t count on our magic to save us. No, I fear we may have to use our wits against this adversary.”

“Then you are a fool,” the Madgod sighed.

“Pardon me? I’m a fool for having hope?”

“Correct! You deserve a cookie, y’know? Don’t you see the nature of our situation? We are two godlike beings facing against a god-eater! It’s a god-eater that we helped revive no less! Tell me, Discord: what are gods in the presence of a god-eater?”

The younger man placed a golden-gauntleted hand to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully. With a frown he growled, “Dinner, I would assume...”

“Very good, Discord, very good! You truly aren’t as stupid as ya look! So tell me now: what are mortal men in the presence of gods?” The Madgod clapped his hands together, the staff he had previously dropped floating up into his dominant right.

“Toys, it would seem. That’s what you made your subjects, at least, Sheogorath.” Taking a second to think it out, Discord added, “Why do you keep referring to me by name?”

Sheogorath stopped stone still, his short-lived excitement fading instantly. He groaned, “If I don’t call you by name, I won’t remember it was you I spoke to. Lately the voices in my head have been running rampant!” A sudden spark of pain flashed across his features, a knot forming near his left temple. Rubbing it vigorously, he growled, “So many souls all screaming for freedom, dying for it even! They each want out of here, want to go home, want to eat cheese again! But they can’t, they never will, but I can’t let them know that!”

Discord snapped, “Get it together, Madgod; this is no time for your Madness!” The younger man reached out to help the plagued demon, who was slowly falling toward the ground, losing whatever battle he was fighting in his head.

Sheogorath latched out with his staff hand, getting an impossibly tight grip on Discord’s robe. He screamed in what could only be described as utter agony, “Do you remember it, Chaos? Do you remember how we got here? Can you remember what brought us to this mountain, in this storm, during the death of my world? I need you to remember, Discord!”

With no warning, the Madgod lurched to his feet, his head smashing hard against his companion’s. A bright ball of golden and purple energy ripped its way from the contact point as the elder demon held the younger in place.

Discord growled through the gut-wrenching pain in his head, “What kind of trap is this, you damned demon!? What’s happening!?” The ball of energy exploded in a burst of pink smoke, smothering the two white-haired figures.

Just as suddenly as Sheogorath had advanced, everything around them stopped. The flames to the south froze in place, the bolts of lightning in the distance stopped in mid-crash, and the vortex simply ceased to swirl. The two figures stood in excruciating pain, one looking as if death were embracing him, the other as if his mind was breaking.

The elder of the two rasped, “Can you remember how we got here? What brought you here to my world all those days ago? Why did you cross the border, and why did you not leave?” Pain surged through his body with every breath, lighting a fire in his chest.

“I remember Ponyville, and the Elements, and something to do with a dream… I remember a deal that you and I made, and some sort of magic slowly grasping my thoughts… I remember our fight, and the demon that awoke because of it…”

The younger demon’s voice slowly faded out, his eyes opening wide in sudden horror.

“I remember a man dressed in white and blue, with a sword the size of you…”

Images danced around in his mind, fleeting and foreboding.

“And the demon’s name? What was it, Chaos?! Tell me its name!”

Struggling through the pain in his body, Discord craned his neck to look directly into Sheogorath’s eyes. He whined, “What’s happening to us, Madgod?”

With heavy, grating breaths the plagued demon explained, “This is a sloppier version of the spell I used all those months ago in your world. The good thing is we’ll be sent back to stop this hell from breaking loose!” A few rough coughs attacked his remaining moments of life, giving him barely enough time to finish. “The bad side is…if we succeed…then we’ll be dead for good…”

“If that’s the price to pay to stop this from happening…so be it. But will we remember any of this when we go back?”

“Fleeting images…is all… One of us…must remember it…or else…we’ll never…”

As Sheogorath’s voice faded and he released his final breath, the pink cloud suddenly burst into flames, swallowing the mountaintop in timeless agony. All around the still-living Discord, the world began to turn back. He was filled with a spinning sensation as sights and sounds and locations all twisted around him in a centrifugal manner. It could have been minutes, or maybe even hours, but an intense wrenching in his body slowly grew more dominant as time continued to turn back ever further into the past. Before long, he wasn’t even in the same world he had just watched die.

No, when the spinning finally stopped and the pain eased, he was floating in front of a large fountain in the middle of an overly-brightly-colored village. Everything popped with color, a steep contrast to a world that he could only hope to remember. As the memories of the dying world faded away, his mind slowly focused on the here and now. He was suddenly remembering why he was floating by that particular fountain at that particular time.

When a bright yellow, four-legged animal with a pink mane trotted up to him and spoke, he had no reason to be surprised. He had no reason to be alarmed either when he realized that he was no longer shaped like the man he believed he had just watched die. No, now he held a serpentine form, with wings and claws and paws and horns.

It only took a few moments before the fog in his mind cleared, leaving him with no doubt about what he was supposed to be doing…

The pony repeated in a soft, kind voice, “Are you ready to go meet up with the others, Discord?”

Without hesitation or thought, he replied, “I still have absolutely no idea why I’m being ‘forced’ to ride that dreadful train with you Elements, but yes, I am ready.”

And, without a second glance at the fountain or a single thought as to why he felt he was forgetting something, the draconequus floated alongside the little pony with a leisurely smug grin on his snout. As far as he cared, this was just another routine trip to Canterlot with ‘Princess Twilight Sparkle and Company’ for his monthly ‘behavioral evaluation.’

Sometimes being ‘reformed’ is such a hassle, he chuckled internally, thinking about his days as a chaotic beast. Reminiscing to his past brought back a fond memory from more recent times. It was the memory of a strange beast he had met not too long ago that seemed just as obsessed with having fun as he did.

If only I could remember that creature’s name… It started with an ‘S’, I’m sure…

Canterlot, the Place Where Chaos Happens!

Discord sat quietly in the air above a small chair that had been reserved for him in a moderate-sized meeting room in the eastern wing of Canterlot Castle. Beside him, albeit a few feet closer to the ground, sat the purple alicorn princess, Twilight Sparkle, patiently awaiting the entrance of the princess they had come to meet as per the monthly schedule.

As the draconequus reclined in midair with his claws cradling the back of his head like a pillow, his feathery serpentine tail swayed gently back and forth, only slightly ruffling the mane of his pony escort. Though his face was grinning and his muscles relaxed, the beast’s mind was going wild with questions, attempting to piece together a puzzle that it wasn’t even sure existed. With each piece the puzzle grew more complex; to the point where Discord’s tail began to oscillate with equal intensity enough to actually annoy the alicorn below.

The beast’s thoughts were suddenly broken, for better or worse, when she spoke up, “Are you feeling okay?” Though the tone she adopted sounded genuinely caring, the target of the question knew all too well that it was not.

With a smug chuckle, Discord replied, “Absolutely fine, my dear. Why do you ask?” Sitting upright, he gently lowered himself into the comparatively uncomfortable seat and turned to face her.

Rolling her eyes at the pseudo-pet name, Twilight groaned, “No reason in particular. You’ve just been acting jumpy lately.”

“Jumpy? Me? Oh, never!” The abomination placed the back of his lion paw to his forehead in mock-concern. “I mean, I’m only the physical embodiment of all things nonsensical and destructive, why should I be jumpy?” A sly grin stretched across his features as he rose back into the air.

“I meant you’ve been acting even weirder than usual the last few months!” Twilight snapped with an annoyed glare gracing her face.

“Have I?” the beast’s expression fell blank. I can’t begin to imagine why. I mean, my eyes have only been opened to the fact that this world could be invaded by creatures with magical powers rivaling my own at any time. Why should I act any different than before? “I haven’t noticed.”

The pony sighed, “Ever since the Parasprite incident, you’ve been acting a lot less like yourself…”

Out of seemingly nowhere, a small fit of disgust surfaced in the beast’s reaction. He countered, “Oh have I? In all the months I’ve been reformed, how much time have we actually spent speaking to one another?” Pausing only briefly to reflect on his words and check her reaction, he continued, “The most time we’ve spent in each other’s company is perhaps an hour, and that’s only at these senseless evaluations that Celestia insists are necessary. Quite frankly, I don’t see what gives you the power to judge whether or not I’ve been acting unlike myself.”

“For your information,” Twilight rebutted, “Fluttershy was the one who told me you’ve been acting funny. She’s really concerned.”

Discord’s face fell blank as he sighed, “But as we both know, my dear, Fluttershy worries about everything. I assure you that I’m absolutely fine.” Placing his eagle claw to his chest, he added, “Draconequus’s word.”

“You say that like your word is worth something to me.”

The beast’s eyes opened wide as he slowly realized what she had just said. He chuckled, “Did you just insult me, Twilight?” When she didn’t respond, he let out a longing sigh. “They grow up so fast!”

Twilight opened her mouth to offer one of her usual rants, but quickly fell silent when the doors to the room opened wide. With a slight hint of urgency, a larger white alicorn trotted into the room, breathing heavily with each step. Her multicolored mane was slightly tussled as if she had just been performing some sort of vigorous exercise, and her coat was equally ruffled in spots.

Taking her place at the larger seat on the opposite side of the small table from the two guests, she sighed, “I’m terribly sorry for my tardiness, Twilight. There was some minor business that needed to be handled in the western wing of the castle. Nothing too serious, but it needed to be done…” Her voice faded slowly, obviously not going into detail on the situation.

“Must’ve been some serious business,” Discord whistled. “After all, for you to be late to something scheduled so far in advance would take something much more important than hearing Twilight tell you how not-chaotic I’ve been over the month…”

Twilight scoffed, “Pardon him, Princess. He’s been acting even sassier lately.”

“Is that so?” the princess replied, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity. “It’s to be expected, I would assume.”

“It is?” the two guests asked in unison, both equally curious as to how anything the draconequus did could possibly be expected.

“Well,” she began with a sigh, “it was one year ago today, if I’m not mistaken. It’s a wonder how much has happened in such short time, isn’t it?”

Discord, feeling a bit left out of the ‘know,’ chuckled, “A year ago today…what?”

Princess Celestia explained, “Today would be the anniversary of the first time you broke free from your stone prison—and subsequently the first time you battled the new Elements of Harmony.” She placed a hoof on the table, seemingly lost in thought. “Don’t tell me you of all creatures forgot?” she added with a light giggle.

“You’ll have to pardon me if I haven’t been counting the days since I was given a good thrashing…” the beast mumbled disinterestedly.

Twilight harnessed a small bit of magic to levitate a folder of papers onto the table from her satchel. “Well, whatever the reason, that’s all I have to report. For the most part, he’s been plain old Discord.” She stared the beast in question, silently offering her temporary dismissal of Fluttershy’s concerns.

“Very well then. We’ll just sign off on this, and we can resume other business.”

The young princess raised an eyebrow in sudden concern. “Is that all this session will take? Are you certain you don’t want to ask any questions or—?”

“That’s quite alright, Twilight.” With a light golden aura, a small quill pen wafted through the air from an inkpot on a table against the wall. Without hesitation, and quite sloppily, Princess Celestia scratched her signature in a designated spot before passing the pen on to her student.

Somewhat disturbed by the hurried nature of the evaluation, Twilight scratched her signature with her own aura, and the pen was sent back to its inkpot. She opened her mouth to speak but was instead cut off by her abominable companion.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be off, then. After all, there’s plenty of fun to be had!”

Just as he was about to bring two of his claws together for a magical snap the door to the room burst open to the sound of winded breaths. A bulky, stern-looking guard in brighter-than-usual gold armor coughed for breath, his helmet nowhere to be found with tufts of his mane scorched. A small cut ran down his cheek, light blood dripping from it.

“Captain Aegis! What happened to you?” Celestia leaped to her hooves, trotting directly to the disturbed guard’s side.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, the guard wheezed, “T-The statue is doing a thing! It’s… outta control!” With that, he collapsed to the ground in a weary heap, dead to the world.

“Twilight,” the elder princess snapped, “attend to Captain Aegis! I have business to attend to!” Without waiting for a response, she darted from the room and into the hall.

It seems as if it’s time for some fun. Everyone knows Canterlot could use a bit more spice, after all! But that poor little soldier, he didn’t stand a chance. And what was with that language? The abomination floated leisurely from the room, following the path he believed the princess had taken. I mean, honestly: ‘is doing a thing.’ Was that even Equestrian?

As he swam through the air, he listened to the panicked cries of ponies coming from the western wing of Canterlot Castle. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of statue they were dealing with. And as his thoughts shifted to statues, he once again thought back to the visitor from another world that he had battled and befriended those three months ago.

What was that man’s name? I’m certain it started with an ‘S’ and ended in ‘rath,’ but everything in between is blank. Argh, this is frustrating even for a master of nonsensical situations!

***

“Lord Sheogorath!”

A stern, unforgiving voice called out into the massive entrance hall of the palace of the Daedric Prince of Madness. The hall itself seemed extra foreboding at the time, especially for the creature being dragged by the collar into it. The cold blue of the Dementia-themed half of the long walkway to the throne at the far end of the hall and the warm red of the Mania-themed half mixed in a foreboding harmony as they sent their energies up the poor soul’s rear.

As he was accepting his fate and all the possible outcomes this meeting could climax in, the poor man let his mind fill with awe at the massive size of the hall. The red fire or blue fire pits on either side of the walkway stood out strongly against the light beige of the building’s stone structure, while the bright sky-blue of the glass windows that lined the top of the walls on every side added a sense of serenity to the scene. But still nothing could fully block the thoughts of his possible death if he should say something offensive to the Madgod…

As he was dragged past the second-to-last pair of torches, he was lifted from the ground and tossed to the foot of the small stairs leading to the throne proper. For the first—and possibly the last—time, the man managed to take in the throne in its full wonder. A massive tree sprouted from the ground behind it, reaching up to the ceiling. On either side of it, mushrooms grew with respect to the Realm of Madness in which they sat.

He even got to see the beauty of the Golden Saint that had forced him into this potentially fatal audience. With golden skin and matching armor that barely concealed her midriff and cleavage, this particular Golden Saint would have been a sight to behold—had she not essentially sentenced the man to death.

She bowed low before explaining, “My Lord, this commoner approached insisting on an audience. When we refused, he drew a blade on us.” Standing back upright, she drew the weapon in question from a small sheath and tossed it onto the throne platform.

“So we’ve got a mad fighter here, do we? I won’t deny it: I like your guts, fella!”

The man on the throne—an aged, white-haired man dressed in a snappy purple jacket and yellow undershirt—leaned over to pick up the fallen weapon. He let out a chuckle before handing it over to a balding, middle-aged man standing beside his throne. The younger man had no emotional expression on his face, totally disinterested in the happenings of his present company. Above all else, he was only there for the sake of appeasing his Lord.

The man on the ground, sweat pouring from his head, cried out, “My Lord Sheogorath, I promise I can explain myself! Just give me a chance!” He attempted to stand up, wanting to have the freedom to run away if the need arose.

At about the time his legs reached full length, the Golden Saint delivered a kick to the back of one knee, buckling it and sending the man back to the ground in agony. She scoffed, “Kneel when you’re in the presence of our Master, cretin!”

“There’s no need for such force, Seraph, my dear! This man is nothing but a lowly Khajiit from the Fringe…” Placing a hand to his thick goatee, Sheogorath thought about what he’d just said. “So you’re from the Fringe, right? And how did someone as pathetic as you manage to make it all the way here to New Sheoth…with such a tiny sword, no less!”

It takes certain skills to make it far enough to grovel at my feet. My champion had been the first in a long time, but now this pathetic cat managed? Has something happened to my beloved Gatekeeper, perhaps?

Looking around to ensure he was safe to speak, he sighed, “I had more supplies, before I was attacked by some odd knights in silver armor…”

The Madgod’s eyes opened wide at hearing those words. He growled, “Silver armor?! What kind of silver armor are you talking about?!”

The man beside the throne sighed in an indifferent tone, “My Lord, he’s not speaking of the Knights of Order. I believe he’s referring to the remnants of the curious fools from Cyrodiil.” Dusting a few specks of dirt from the shoulder of his black coat, he stared down at the doomed guest.

“Thank you Haskill. I needed to hear that.” Sheogorath leaned forward, his wooden staff catching most of his weight. He whispered, “You had me worried, little kitty. So tell me then: why have you come all this way?”

“My Lord,” the cat began, barely considering his words, “I was chosen by the people of the Fringe to deliver this message to you. A mysterious door has opened where the Door to Cyrodiil once stood. An odd aura of magical energy seems to be leaking through, causing horrendous beasts to develop from the wildlife.”

“A door? In my Fringe! What nerve! Haskill, have you heard anything of this?”

The chamberlain replied blankly, “No sir, not a word.”

“So you’re telling me that this door opened without my knowledge? How? I’m the only one that may open doors!” The staff in his hand morphed into a large key, fit into its own disembodied keyhole.

“I’m terribly sorry, my Lord, but it’s the truth. Many residents of Passwall have already been ripped to shreds by these new monsters.”

“Very well then. Haskill and I shall go examine this new door. And if it proves to be a threat, we’ll kill it!” The Madgod leaped from his throne, patting his companion hard on the back, while Haskill simply stood in emotionless acceptance of the wondrous time he would get to spend with his Lord.

The Golden Saint groaned, “What shall I do with this cat?”

The guest in question looked up at his God-King with hopeful eyes. With a chuckle, Sheogorath dismissed him. “Dispose of him how you see fit, Seraph dear. Try to be creative!”

“Wait, what, no! Please, my Lord! I beg of you, spar--!”

Without a single second’s hesitation, Seraph’s blade cut clean through the poor man’s neck, the head falling on the floor with little resistance. A skip in his step, the Madgod began his journey from the castle, Haskill close behind. As he opened the doors to the palace, he began to whistle a familiar and happy tune.

It’s a shame, really. I could have used a new pet, after the last one went kaput… Oh well, I suppose. But we could have at least given him a better execution. I’ve always wanted to see a public death by CHEESE! Heh-heh…

***

“This is quite bizarre, isn’t it?”

Discord hovered gently in the air, staring directly at a large lion’s head statue that had seemingly sprung up from nowhere in the middle of the main hall of the western wing of Canterlot Castle. There was no structural damage anywhere around it, and it simply sat in silent wonder. No light, no sound, no magic, nothing. To the abomination, it looked too familiar to be a coincidence. To the residents of the western wing, it looked like a prison cell. To the princesses, it looked like trouble.

“Any attempt to touch it,” a small Pegasus guard in gold armor groaned, “ends up in being a very unfortunate pony…”

“Yes, I would imagine so.” The beast stared at it grimly, attempting to remember what it looked like. So many questions were appearing because of the blasted stone, but none of the answers seemed within reach.

Princess Celestia sighed, “We simply must remove it; all of the ponies in this wing are trapped unless we do…”

“Are there no side passages? Are there no windows? They’re hardly trapped, Celestia. Lazy, perhaps, but not trapped by any means.”

Another alicorn, slightly smaller than the white one, tapped her hooves on the ground in front of the statue. “I cannot make heads or tails of this bizarre creation. It has no magic, yet it continues to defy our attacks.” Her black coat was just as ruffled and her night-sky mane as tussled as the larger alicorn’s.

“Humph!” Discord growled, shifting closer to the stone. “Perhaps a bit of Chaos is in order, don’t you agree Luna?”

“Under normal circumstances I would never condone the use of your magic, Discord. However…”

“It would seem we have no choice. This blockage needs to be cleared immediately before somepony else gets hurt!” Princess Celestia nodded acceptingly, waving a hoof at the statue.

A large grin stretched across Discord’s face, happy to see that the princesses were powerless against a chunk of rock. Taking a moment to stretch his body, the beast placed both arms against the effigy as if preparing to crawl on it. As golden energy streamed down them, it spread quickly to engulf the entirety of the target nuisance. Once it was coated, he backed away slightly and snapped his claws to activate the aura.

For a brief moment, the stone vanished into thin air, and everypony in the hall cheered joyously. Seconds later, it snapped back to existence with a massive burst of electricity, zapping every single pony within range and knocking most of them unconscious—or worse. Every light died, fire-based or otherwise, while the entire wing itself seemed to be heaving under the burst of energy. Nopony was left standing, not even Discord. Groans and coughs followed, some more pained than others.

Taking only a moment to regain his bearings, Discord roared, “That’s not possible! My magic can do anything! This is just a chunk of blasted earth!” He punched it as hard as he could with his paw, an uncharacteristic burst of rage filling his head. When it finally cleared, he sat down on the ground in utter disbelief. He snapped his fingers to reignite the lights in the hall, then proceeded to mull over his failure.

I’ve…been beaten by a slab of rock… No! There has to be more to it than that! This puzzle is getting bigger by the second! No…there are only two things more powerful than me: the Elements of Harmony…and that strange man’s magic. What did he call it? What was his name? Why is this statue so damned familiar? Argh, my head!

As he thought more about his puzzles, his head began to throb. It only took a few seconds for that throbbing to escalate into a full-body surge of pins and needles. With an ear-wrenching screech, a burst of golden magic shot from his head and into the statue. A beam of purple energy shot back into him, knocking him several yards down the hall, landing with a grotesque thud on the ground. As he let out winded gasps of pain, a blanket of clarity enveloped his mind.

That’s it! I remember it all so clearly now! The ‘Daedric Prince of Madness,’ he was called! Sheogorath, if I’m not mistaken…or Madgod, as the case had been… A chill ran up the draconequus’s spine as he remembered the demented identity of the strange demon from another world. Madness: the only magic that has ever been able to completely negate my own with minimal effort. Then again, it worked the other way around, too…

“But why am I suddenly remembering these things? Are they connected to that energy just now?”

Discord picked himself up off the ground, floating cautiously toward the large statue. Even with his memory jogged, there were still so many questions that needed answers. Taking a look at the fallen ponies around him, he let out a defeated sigh.

Recovering her footing, Princess Celestia groaned, “What happened, Discord? What did you do?” Using her magic to steady herself and Luna, the two approached the chaotic beast with determination.

“Madness happened, my dear. Madness at its finest.”

“Madness? Whatever do you mean?” Luna scoffed, not understanding his cryptic explanation.

Of course. Even if he hadn’t undone his damage, Luna still wouldn’t have a clue what Sheogorath is. Not personally, at least. Pity; they might have gotten along great. After all, a princess that can see dreams and a man whose head is filled with voices…

Discord physically shuddered at the thought of the two growing fond of one another before etching it from his brain space permanently. He attempted to explain, “Do you believe in other worlds, Luna?”

“Of course I do. Twilight Sparkle has been to one, after all.”

Remembering that as fact, the beast suddenly found it significantly easier to explain his thoughts on the current dilemma. “Then you know that there are mysterious creatures in countless other worlds. Some of those creatures hold power greater than anything any of us could imagine.” He paused only temporarily to decide his next few words, “I’ve met one such creature…”

Well, technically I’ve met a dozen such creatures, but that’s a story for another day.

Celestia spat, “What are you talking about, Discord? We would know if creatures from other worlds were intervening in ours.” Her tone carried a mixture of anger and confusion.

“You would think so, wouldn’t you? But alas, it seems that you and your subjects are so rooted in order and Harmony that your minds seem to draw blanks when the otherworldly creatures leave. Being chaotic, it only makes sense that I would remember things that make no sense.” Snapping his claws, a small figurine appeared directly in front of the princesses’ faces.

Taking a moment to study the bipedal creature portrayed by the statuette, Luna gasped, “This is one of the ‘humans’ that Twilight Sparkle told us about, is it not?” She wrapped the figure in her own cobalt aura, pulling it closer. “Is it wearing a suit?”

“An intelligent and dapper young boy, twelve years of age, if memory serves me right. He and his companions ended up in this world, where bad things happened. Needless to say, intervention on such a large scale freed me from my prison, and I—”

“That’s enough, Discord,” Celestia snapped. “I’ve no intention of listening to your mindless ramblings. Whether it’s the truth or not, what does it have to do with this statue?”

Goodness, she’s feisty today, isn’t she? Very well; it’s time for explanations.

“The most recent visitor—should you choose to believe me—held a power known as Madness. While similar to my Chaos, it was much more destructive. This statue reacted to my magic and converted it into a different form, sending it back at us.” He placed his paw on the upper snout of the lion, petting it gently. “Madness is the only force I believe that’s capable of doing such a thing to my Chaos.”

“So what, the statue is channeling the Madness from this mysterious visitor you claim existed?” Luna wanted to believe that there had been visitors prior to this strange statue, but her sister didn’t seem to be buying it.

Placing his claws together and leering at the statue, Discord sighed, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And, if I’m correct, then things could get messy bef—!”

Cutting him off in mid-sentence, a mysterious voice called out through the hall. It was familiar, even to the elder alicorn, though it felt hollow and distant. It had a foreign accent, and rang out with excitement.

“Well would you look at that, Haskill; the kitten was tellin’ the truth! Shame he died…”

***

The sun was high in the sky over the Emean Sea on the edge of the Fringe, the southwestern-most sector of the Shivering Isles, Sheogorath’s realm. The Madgod was standing atop one of the highest hills in the sector, a mere yard from his chamberlain, Haskill. The two were staring intently at a rather large lion’s head statue that had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

It sat directly in front of the screaming man’s head statue that had served as the gateway to and from Cyrodiil the many months previous. It blocked the mouth of the statue, a light golden aura swirling in its own mouth. The sight simply amazed the Madgod, as he hadn’t so much as caught a whiff of the magical aura, which was very hard for him to accept. Haskill, as usual, simply stood in an impassive manner, waiting for his Lord’s next orders.

The Madgod cheered excitedly, “Well would you look at that, Haskill; the kitten was tellin’ the truth! Shame he died…” Taking a moment to scan the statue with world-weary eyes, he added, “I wonder where it came from and where it goes.”

“There’s no telling, sir. You’ll simply have to enter it to know.”

“Bah, how primitive! Where’s the fun in going to the other side to find out what’s there? Why don’t we call someone from over there here? After all, that’s how I met my Champion!” Clapping his hands together, Sheogorath stepped closer to the vortex of energy. Thoughts began to race through his head.

Too many thoughts, he thought, my head might just explode! But this energy feels familiar, almost like a piece of me! I think I’ll tell Haskill that once I’m done thinking. Thinking, thinking, thinking, so much thinking! But someone has to do it, and I’ll be damned if it’s not me!

“This energy feels familiar, Haskill! Almost as if it’s mine!” He reached out cautiously with his staff, tapping the top of the lion’s snout. A surge of golden energy shot through it, vanishing as it reached his hand. “That’s curious. The Wabbajack is reacting…”

As the Madgod went to withdraw his fabled staff, a burst of purple magic shot from his chest and ran along the length of staff, puncturing the vortex. For a split second, he heard a familiar voice groan in agony, but it was quickly replaced with a civilized conversation.

“Where is that voice coming from, Discord? What kind of game are you playing?” A feminine, regal voice cut through the energy with hardly any distortion, aside from a slight echo.

An all-too-familiar voice followed suit with an indignant tone. Unlike the first voice, there wasn’t a single filter of distortion to be heard. “I’m not playing any games, Celestia! This is none of my doing! But that voice feels all-too-familiar…” It faded out, only to be replaced by a sudden gasp of understanding.

Before the second voice could follow its gasp, a third, nearly mute voice groaned, “Do you two see what’s happening, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?” This new voice sounded feminine, albeit younger than the first.

“Do you hear that, Haskill? Do you know whose voices those are?” Turning on his heels and releasing the Wabbajack to do its thing, he grinned creepily at his chamberlain. “That would be Chaos! My Chaos! Discord, if the name sits right on my tongue! That damned should-be dragon!”

“How quaint, sir. An old friend of yours, I would assume?”

“Have I never told you the tale of Chaos and Madness, Haskill? Oh boy, what a tale to tell your children’s tails!”

“It knows your name!” the third voice screeched, fear flooding her tone.

The first voice groaned, “It’s more than that, sister. It knows his magic…”

The second voice, now trembling in shock and excitement, called out, “It’s been a while, Madgod.”

A while, eh? Just a while? Feels like an eternity! Maybe I’ll tell him that. That old draconequus, the Master of Chaos! Two magics that simply belong by each other’s sides!

“Too long, I’d say. Never did get to visit again, sorry for that! Been busy travelling the realms of existence! I took a wrong turn at the World of Ruin and got lost for a week! One helluva week that was!”

A large grin stretched across Sheogorath’s face as he snapped his fingers together. On the other end of the golden portal to another world, a similar black one burst to life in the linked lion’s mouth. And, through all the doubt in his mind, Discord entered it fearlessly, excited to see his old frenemy—the man that his mind had been attempting to remember for an entire day—once more.

Just as he entered the black vortex of energy, it vanished from the mouth of the lion. When the two alicorn sisters began to protest the idea of the beast being without check, Sheogorath silenced them entirely by closing the portal on his end. Which, as he found out, was much more difficult than he anticipated.

But before all that, in the split second after the draconequus’s entrance, the two almighty beasts stared at each other. Their eyes locked in a battle of mutual respect and fear, each instantly sensing that something was wrong with the other. Something in the eyes of the demons of Chaos and Madness left an impression of something horrible about to happen. And in an odd harmony of tones and thoughts, they both exclaimed,

“Something’s wrong here!”

The Fringe Has Eyes

So there they stood, Chaos and Madness, together again. The two looked on into one another’s eyes, secrets locked away deep within them. Dread filled their thoughts as those secrets refused to open, and before long, the two were lost in contemplation of the omens they were seeing. Why had they so suddenly been reunited, and why did their eyes seem so sad? Standing in silence, the Madgod’s Chamberlain watched as an unfamiliar aura began to breach the golden portal.

A single white hoof materialized, golden-tipped, as the vortex of magic gave way under the intruder’s. Slowly, an equine body began to take shape, a white alicorn.

As Princess Celestia was in the process of passing through the portal, Sheogorath snapped from his delirium and bellowed, “Looks as if we have a guest, Chaos!”

Breaking free from his own trance, Discord sighed, “Honestly Celestia, why must you constantly keep tabs on me?” Flying swiftly to the portal’s surface, he placed a single claw on the still-forming alicorn’s horn. “I’m afraid this world is not for the likes of harmonious creatures, right Sheogorath?”

“Naturally! Sorry lass, but this is ta-ta!” Almost violently, the ruler of the realm sent a wave of magical energy toward the vulnerable visitor, sending her backward with enough force to pierce the vortex.

The younger alicorn’s voice groaned, “Are you okay, sister? What did they do?”

Sheogorath laughed, “Your sister will be fine, lass. She might have a craving for some cabbage, but she’ll wake up soon enough! But, I can’t have you princesses barging in on my territory!” With a snap of his fingers, the golden portal in the mouth of the lion’s head instantly shattered like glass.

“That’s a neat trick, shattering magic. Where’d you pick it up?”

“Oh, you know,” the Madgod shrugged, “somewhere.”

Luna’s voice again called, this time demandingly, “Tell me what is the meaning of this nonsense!” A small ball of cobalt energy formed where the center of the portal had been.

Discord whistled, “She has some fight, I’ll give her that. Just like her sister, I suppose.” He then came to a sudden realization, “How’d you know she was Celestia’s sister? You never met her!”

“Ah, right you are, Chaos!” The Wabbajack against the stone reacted to the foreign magic, sending a wave of purple energy into it. The ball evaporated, and a slight shriek was heard as the magic rebounded into the younger princess. “I did, however, possess a guard with much knowledge of the princesses. You didn’t think I would forget everything I learned in those heads, did you?”

The draconequus sighed, “No, I suppose I didn’t. I could have hoped, at least.”

“Bah! Hope is for the weak! Who needs hope when you have means?” The Madgod stepped toward the statue to retrieve his beloved staff. As he reached for it, he groaned, “If the truth be told, those memories linger all too perpetually.”

“Excuse me?”

“Memories. The voices of those ponies I possessed. I can still hear ‘em screaming in my skull! Begging for freedom and mercy! The lives I took, they haunt me! I don’t know why, either. It was never like this before. I could have had anyone killed and not shed a tear, but now I’m being haunted by those bloody voices!” Another surge of purple energy travelled down the length of the Wabbajack, passing through where the cobalt energy had formed. The sound of shattering glass echoed out over the hill on the edge of the Shivering Isles.

Haskill sighed, “Being without a host for such an extended period of time has corrupted the Lord’s magic, or so he says. Dementia and Mania fluctuate painfully, causing bipolar attitudes and painful hallucinations.” Taking a few slight steps toward his master, the chamberlain manifested a ball of pink energy in his hand.

Discord cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Is this going to be a repeat of the last time we met? I’ve dealt with your dark Dementia once, and I’d much rather leave now if that’s the case.” He watched as Haskill placed the ball of energy onto his master’s head, washing away the angry scowl on his face.

“No, Discord. This won’t be the same. While I may have fluctuations, I still control my magic. I may just have sudden urges to use it inappropriately…” Grinning as the pain left his body, he chuckled, “But you know all about that, don’t ya?”

“You know I do!” the beast laughed, the mood suddenly shifting a few shades lighter.

But behind the laugh, the draconequus couldn’t help but worry. Dementia, Sheogorath’s own personal evil. I remember it. It controlled him, and now he might lose control of it again. I don’t want to be around when that happens. But…something feels wrong about all of this. I feel as if I’ve done this before, only… The two humanoids began to walk down the hill toward a small village in the distance, the elder waving for him to follow. Only…I’ve never been here before, have I? Maybe in a dream?

“Are you coming or not, Chaos? I have an entire realm to show you! There’s so much for you, a beast of nonsensical make, to enjoy! Come, come!” Sheogorath cheered, his magic balancing itself out with Haskill’s help. A large smile graced his features while his chamberlain stood as apathetic as always.

Snapping from his thoughts, Discord took off through the air to catch up to his hosts. He called, “Of course! It would be my pleasure!”

***

She wasn’t really certain how long she’d been asleep. In fact, she wasn’t even sure what knocked her out. But when a violent tremor shook the foundations of the castle, Princess Celestia snapped back to consciousness. Staring her in the face was a large, blurry black figure, flowing red robes swallowing it.

The statue of the lion’s head had crumbled, leaving nothing but dust on the slowly-eroding ground. The entire western wing of Canterlot Castle had collapsed under the force of the tremors that radiated from the spot where the figure hovered. Even Celestia found it difficult to breathe under the pressure of the energy the mysterious beast was releasing.

The figure’s eyes were the only clearly-noticeable attributes, one green and the other yellow.

With a deep, foreboding voice, the creature giggled, “Have a nice dream, Sister?”

***

“It would seem I was right after all, Haskill!”

“Right about what, sir?”

“The Gatekeeper was killed…”

The Gates of Madness were the first landmarks on Sheogorath’s intended tour of his realm. Connecting the Fringe to both Realms of Madness, the Gates held a certain aura of awe and dread, filling all those that gaze upon them with a sense of uncertainty. The first major landmarks any visitor to the Shivering Isles is likely to encounter, the Gates give a taste of what’s to come.

That is, of course, if the visitor is capable of passing through them.

Discord scoffed, “This giant mutant was beaten? By what, one of those Passwall peasants?” Taking a second longer to scan the fallen abomination, he chuckled, “I doubt that!”

“Perhaps it was one of the monsters the Khajiit warned us about.” Even though the statement felt like one of concern, Haskill’s emotionless tone made it seem insignificant.

That’s getting old, actually. This man seems too creepy, even for my standards!

“No,” Sheogorath snapped, “no animal could kill him. No mortal, either, without the key. No, something else did this to let the cat through…” A sly grin stretched across his face as he pondered the evidence.

Discord sighed, “What’s so special about this goliath? He can’t be that powerful can he?”

“This particular Gatekeeper is infused with the Lord’s own magic. He is tied to Sheogorath in every way aside from physical. To defeat the Gatekeeper requires knowledge that no citizen of Passwall could possibly attain.” The chamberlain scanned the fallen monster, seeing it seemingly unscathed, sewn flesh disregarded. “The last time he was defeated, it was using the tears of the witch that bound it together. When Lord Sheogorath’s champion reconstructed him, that weakness was removed.”

So what you’re telling me is that this thing is immortal…but it’s dead? Right, of course, no, continue.

“I suppose I understand.”

Piercing a hand into the Gatekeeper’s chest, Sheogorath ripped two small metallic objects from the spot where the heart should have been. Blood flowed freely from the cavity, while not a drop was stained onto the hand or the items it was holding. One of the minuscule metal slivers shined a fiery red, while the other a watery blue.

The Madgod sighed, “The keys to the Gates of Madness. They were never taken from the Gatekeeper’s body! So…” He scanned his guardian with sad eyes. The scarred flesh and bloodied sword that connected to its dominant arm both looked pale in comparison to previous meetings. “So how did that cat open the gates? How did he speak to us?”

“Am I missing something?” Discord snapped, feeling the tension rise as his lack of knowledge surfaced.

“Indeed ya are, Chaos!” Sheogorath threw himself off the ground, his Wabbajack sending a surge of energy to help him balance. Putting the keys in one of his coat’s pockets, he growled, “Something killed my Gatekeeper! Something that never landed a blow… I want to know what…and I have a feeling someone in this village knows something!”

“If I may, my Lord,” Haskill interjected, his apathetic demeanor almost faltering in the rush, “but I do not believe you will find your answers with the peasants of Passwall.”

“Oh, really? How would you know, Haskill? Have ya checked?!”

Discord stopped in his tracks, not following his host another step closer to the village until his outburst of anger ended. As he considered stating as much, something in the distance caught his eye. A bright orange light shimmering some distance to the southwest continued to flicker in and out of life.

That’s curious, isn’t it? It doesn’t appear to be a lighthouse or beacon… I wonder…

“No sir, I have not. I can only assume that the people of Passwall would have no idea. After all, it was the Khajiit they assigned to pass through the Gates.”

Sheogorath opened his mouth to growl, or maybe it was to laugh, but in any case he was unable to follow through. The visitor from another world chuckled, “You really need to relax, Madgod! You’ll worry yourself into an early grave! Besides, I agree with Haskill here; the peasants won’t know anything useful.” With a smug smile, he wrapped an arm around the angry demon, waving southward with his other.

“What are you on about, Chaos? Can’t you see you’re wasting my time! I don’t like having my…” Sheogorath’s eyes opened wide as the orange glow caught his attention. His scowl was quickly replaced by an excited grin as he cheered, “Very astute of ya, my friend! Keen eye for details! Haskill, you mind giving our guest the details about that place?” With one swift motion, he squirmed from his companion’s grasp and swung the Wabbajack toward the light, a beam of purple energy rocketing toward the source.

“I am actually quite curious, now that you mention it.”

The chamberlain sighed, “Of course you are, Sir Discord. That place is known as Xeddefen, and it was a crucial point in the Lord’s stand against the Greymarch. Through it, his Champion was able to free the Fringe from Jyggalag’s army.” Looking outward toward the still-flying cloud of black magic, he continued, “The ruins caved in after the Champion finished his business in them. Ever since, they’ve sat untouched…until now, apparently.”

Sheogorath burst into laughter, “So it seems, Haskill! And I have a feeling that whatever killed my Gatekeeper is related to that orange light! It would take bravery or foolishness to test Madness!” Raising his free hand high in the air, he snapped his fingers.

Instantaneously, and rather disorienting, the three of them warped through space itself, stopping just before the entrance to the fallen ruins. As the draconequus attempted to gain his bearings after such sudden movement, a sharp pain shot through his skull. While the Madgod and his chamberlain began to walk up a small hill behind the entrance steps, Discord mentally struggled against the invading sensations.

“So this is you?” a mysterious voice whispered in his ear.

Who are you? What do you mean?

The voice hissed, “You are not ripe. You cannot be harvested.”

What am I, a fruit? The pain dissolved into confusion, allowing the beast to regain his senses. While the voice continued to pierce his thoughts, he managed a normal outward appearance.

“No. You are a host. Potentially.” The voice fell silent, all euphoria that had accompanied it vanishing with the sound.

Sheogorath’s cackle snapped Discord back to the present situation. “Would you look at that, Haskill! It’s an eye!” He held up a large semi-spherical object of solid wood, painted in layers of color. Two small tongues reached from either side of the sphere, almost like the meeting point for top and bottom eyelids.

Orange made up the majority of the surface, with a yellow circle closer to the center. A small blotch of green rested just under a tiny dot of black, obviously the iris and pupil. Together, the colors blended to create an odd and sickening image, something straight from a nightmare, it seemed.

Haskill attempted a show of excitement, “Fascinating, my Lord. The companion to the other one, I assume?”

“Other one?” Discord snapped, overwhelming curiosity swallowing his thoughts.

“Ah, yes! I mentioned earlier my dreadful sense of direction, didn’t I?” the Madgod laughed, holding the eye up toward the sun to admire its beauty. “How I took a wrong turn at the World of Ruin, correct? Well…I stumbled upon another world in my lost week…” He looked at the draconequus with nostalgia in his eyes. “There was a tribe of tiny imps wearing masks, dancing around a massive bonfire. Ah, when I showed up, you should have seen their masks! Even the masks changed shape! They were so terrified! It was wondrous…and sad.”

Haskill sighed, “The Lord of the Never-There has that effect on people, I’m afraid.”

“Quite,” Discord admitted.

“They were so terrified they even mistook me for a god! I mean, I am a god, but still. They mistook me for their god! When they asked what would make me happy, I told them I’d like a magic mask like theirs!” Taking a second to turn the eye over in his hand, he boasted, “They brought me the most beautifully terrifying mask I’d ever laid eyes on! The colors and coating were so abysmal; I could hardly stand to look at it…”

The chamberlain interjected, “The mask was actually being used to host one of the tribe’s demon-gods. When Lord Sheogorath placed it on his face, it came to life with the demon magic and tried to devour him.”

“Yes, and when I realized it, I shattered the mask into a million shards! The traitorous tribals were executed on site, without remorse. And, despite my destroying the mask, the eyes remained intact. So I brought one home with me.”

Discord choked, “You brought a shard of an ancient demon back to your realm?! Are you insane…?” As he realized the answer to his own question, a sudden surge of shame flooded his face.

“Naturally Sir Discord,” Haskill confirmed.

“Besides,” Sheogorath chuckled, “The demon left the mask the second it shattered. No, it’s either dead or in another host.”

“How can you be sure? The eyes didn’t break! What if they’re hosting it?”

Without a single doubt in his mind, the Madgod explained, “The mask reacted when I put it on. It stole some of my magic from me. I would be able to feel that magic if these eyes were holding it!” Placing the eye in the pocket with the keys to the Gates, he advanced slowly toward the apprehensive foreigner. “I assure you, my mismatched friend, that these eyes are harmless! The demon that they once held is no longer a problem. It stayed in its world, like a good little boy.”

“And your magical fluctuations?” the beast snapped, unconvinced. “When did they begin?”

“Are you really going to do this now? Here, in this place? Surely not, Chaos! We’ll discuss these things once our tour is finished! So much to see, so few hours in a day!” Wrapping an arm around his uncertain companion, Sheogorath added, “I could change that, ya know. But it’d get a little too messy…”

Haskill took the time to reassure his master’s guest, “If the demon was of any threat to this realm, it would have done what it wished by now. It has been several months since the first eye returned with our Lord, after all.” Taking a moment to fix the collar of his jacket, he turned to follow as his master took off away from the ruins.

By this point, Sheogorath was already on the trail leading back into Passwall, leaving Discord to stare blankly at the unconcerned ruler of the realm. With a single question, the mood of the entire scene shifted darker. Of course it would have been the foreigner to ask the question. The only one of the three not rooted in some form of Madness would be the one to search for connections.

“So what killed your Gatekeeper, if not the demon’s eye?”