Zecora's Pinata

Chapters

Ponyville Laments
Jumpsuit Sweethearts
How To Provoke A Lynch Mob
Black Stripe Messiah
Entrance Strategy Of A Wrecking Ball
Aura
Singular Rapture
Ice Trap Aftermath
Of Ghede's Worth
Justice For La Croix
It's Voodoo, Mademoiselle!
Epilogue: With Thanks To Devil's Orchestra

Ponyville Laments

Chapter Two: Ponyville Laments
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix was a little horrified by the dirty little village they walked into. Sure, he'd been in some backwater bayous in his day, but nothing compared to this. And it wasn't because the village was so... well... crude, but because it was so uncultured, so unrefined.

He shivered a little as they walked down the dirt road, getting stares from slack-jawed pony hicks who clearly didn't know how to mind their manners, much less their own damn business. He scowled a little, but Zecora only muttered to him: “Keep your cool. Don't be a fool.”

“Keep your... rhymes in check, or I'll... send y'all to heck.” La Croix grumbled in reply, shaking his head violently before he added grouchily: “Look at 'em! Starin' at us... where we goin', anyway? These ponies look dumb as poulet. I doubt they got anything to do with why I was sent here.”

“Stop rushing, La Croix. Your haste is a flaw.” reprimanded Zecora, and La Croix groaned and rolled his eyes before the zebra mare gestured ahead, towards a massive tree... except as they approached, the Loa's jaw dropped as he realized that the damn ponies had actually made it into some kind of weird house. “That building ahead is where we have to go. Inside it lives a pony who will-”

“Let me guess, know.” La Croix said sourly, and Zecora simply gave him a dry smile before he muttered: “Well. Ain't like it could get any worse.”

Zecora glared at him, and La Croix huffed at her, saying childishly as they walked up to the door in the tree: “Oh come on, you don't really think that I gonna be punished for that, right? That ain't the way karma works, mademoiselle vielle.”

He rose a hoof and hammered twice on the library door, and there was silence for a few moments before the stallion scowled a bit, then knocked wildly on the front door. Zecora glared at him, then she reached up and grabbed him, forcibly jerking him away from the door to stop him from pounding on it as she grumbled: “It's clear to see there's no one here. But there's not yet any need to fear. I have no doubt that Twilight Sparkle will soon return... until then, perhaps we should attend to other concerns.”

“You added an 's' there, mademoiselle vielle. Don't think I didn't notice that. I call that cheatin'.” La Croix said pointedly, and then he looked back at the library door before his brow suddenly furrowed, asking slowly: “Wait. What did you call that pony?”

“Twilight Sparkle, a princess of this land. But perhaps we can speak to one of her merry band.” Zecora said mildly, beginning to turn away... and then she winced in surprise when La Croix seized her and yanked her back to face him.

“We ain't dealing with no damn Twilight Sparkle, and no damn princesses, either! We gonna keep us right clear of 'em all!” La Croix said hurriedly, shaking his head vehemently. “No, we gonna stay far away from her and them and anyone like 'em!”

Zecora mouthed wordlessly, and then she carefully reached up and extracted La Croix's hooves from her, asking uncertainly: “Perhaps this would be something I'd be better not to wonder... but do you know the princesses from some former blunder?”

“It wasn't my blunder! It was... how the hell was I supposed to deal with Nanny Hel! I ain't supposed to be nothin' but a messenger, but oh, Bondye, he quick to blame me all the same!” La Croix exclaimed, making a violent chopping motion at his own neck.

The mare reared back slightly, and La Croix stared at her before clearing his throat, carefully reaching up to adjust his top hat before he said awkwardly: “But none o' that is important, nope. These uh... this is a different Twilight, anyway. All. Real complicated stuff, ain't for you to worry none 'bout, mademoiselle vielle. Let's just find us a oiseau that'll sing for us.”

“I wish you'd at least try and be nice to these ponies. Most of them are very kind, few of them are phonies.” Zecora said after a moment, then she sighed and followed when La Croix only sniffed and spun around, looking back and forth before he trotted quickly towards an apple cart where a large, red stallion was working. “La Croix-”

“No talks!” snapped the Loa, and then he stumbled to a halt and scowled over his shoulder at her. “I mean, tais-toi. You're startin' to make my brain itch. Now stay outta my head or I'm gonna go upside yours, y'hear?”

“You're truly an intimidating male. No one would ever guess how eagerly you turn tail.” Zecora responded mildly, looking unimpressed, and La Croix grumbled as they approached the apple cart before the zebra bowed her head politely to earth pony. “Greetings, Big Mac. My friend wants a snack.”

“I... uh. Well, yeah, actually, I could go for a bite.” La Croix said thoughtfully after a moment, leaning forwards and poking quickly through the apples with one hoof, rolling them back and forth before he looked up and asked with a grin: “Y'all don't mind a free sample, do you?”

Big Mac scowled slightly beneath his hay-colored bangs, then he said pointedly: “Two bits.”

“Oh, come on! We all friends here, right? Hell, hayseed, y'all should count yourself lucky to have royalty like myself here over in the muddy side of the bayou, with all you dirty ouaouarons and crawfish.” La Croix said crankily, and Big Mac narrowed his eyes slowly before the zebra stallion dropped to rest an elbow on the stall, leaning against it as he picked up an apple and bit into it with a grin, chewing loudly as he added contritely: “Now you best watch yourself, boy. Y'all might be big and strong now. But with one little wave of my hoof, I could turn you back into a pépin de pomme.”

Big Mac frowned uncertainly, and then Zecora sighed and quickly reached back to dig in her satchel before she pulled out a few coins, tossing these on the wooden slat that acted as a counter. “Three bits for your patience, Big Mac. Although I will not blame you if you give him a smack.”

The large earth pony grunted, and La Croix huffed loudly at Zecora before the crimson stallion asked slowly: “And he is...”

Zecora bit her tongue nervously, looking over at La Croix, but the Loa only laughed loudly before he grinned widely and swept his hat off his head as he stepped backwards and bowed low. “I am Baron La Croix, and unlike this two-bit priestess, I can make miracles happen and change your fate! Oh, sure, you might think I be fou, but I be fou like the renard, y'hear?”

Big Mac looked unimpressed, and La Croix only smiled as he straightened, taking another chomp out of the apple before he said easily: “But I guess a big strong colt like you ain't interested in talkin' to his parents again, huh?”

The earth pony flinched as if he'd been struck, eyes widening, and Zecora winced before she grabbed La Croix and forcefully turned him around, excusing awkwardly: “Pardon us for leaving so fast, but the day is already at half-mast.”

“The only thing at half-mast is that stallion, at the thought of seeing maman et papa again.” La Croix muttered cheerfully, and then he laughed when the mare gave him a sharp look. “What? It was just a bit of fun, ain't no harm in that! 'Sides, having a big ours like that on our side would make this whole mess a whole lot easier, non?”

“Non. N'est bon.” Zecora said moodily, and La Croix gave her a horrible look before the zebra said tiredly: “Have you ever thought that there's a chance, you were punished for more than circumstance?”

“I don't know what you're getting at, but I already don't like it.” La Croix said grumpily, and then he added pointedly: “Furthermore, you got no right to mock the way I talk. I don't do that to you none, you rhyming ouaouaron.”

“First of all, you've done that to me several times; second of all, you attack me with more than rhymes.” Zecora retorted, shaking her head shortly before she sighed tiredly, almost pleading: “La Croix, listen to me, I'm trying to help you here. You obviously have a lesson to learn if you want to return to what it is you hold dear.”

“You double-rhymed there, so I'm going to be twice as insulting from now on, chaoui.” grumbled La Croix, and Zecora sighed tiredly before the stallion asked grumpily as he looked back and forth: “Why do all these ponies look so damn heureux? They look like they drank too much o' the joie de vivre. Ain't right.”

“Do you think they should be sad instead? And here you thought there was something wrong with my head.” Zecora replied mildly, and La Croix glared at her. “You're making me think again what the spirit world must be like, see... but imagining a world of spirits like you hurts my psyche.”

“Je vas te passe une calotte. Right upside your damn head.” La Croix threatened, and then he glared at her and added: “And hey, we don't know that my powers be gone for good. You keep this up, I gonna turn you into a fly and feed you to the spiders. Or maybe I just skip all that and make the spiders eat you up right now.”

Zecora looked less than frightened, giving the stallion a mild look, and La Croix rolled his eyes before opening his mouth... and then both zebras staggered to a halt as a pink shape landed in front of them, bouncing several times excitedly before La Croix realized it was a pony.

She was... well, pink. Pink, and energetic, and La Croix reared back in horror from her when this newcomer shoved her face almost right into his and exclaimed: “Hi! Who are you?”

“C'est quoi ce...” La Croix caught himself, clearing his throat and shaking his head quickly before he smiled lamely and slowly reached up to carefully push the pony away. She only giggled, looking at him with bright, childish blue eyes, and he winced a bit as he pulled his hoof away from her mess of a mane and found it felt... sticky. “Well. Ain't you... nice.”

“Pinkie Pie, this is my... friend. His name is La Croix, and he comes from around the bend.” Zecora said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely down the road, but Pinkie Pie only smiled brightly and nodded fervently a few times.

“It's really nice your friend came to visit you... say, is he your brother or something?” asked Pinkie Pie curiously, and La Croix and Zecora traded looks before they both made horrified faces and leaned away from each other.

“You gonna give me cauchemars. No way in hell.” La Croix stopped, then he scowled horribly, putting a hoof against his chest as he asked sharply: “Wait, wait, you think that just 'cause we both zebra, we gotta be related? We don't even look alike, I'm 'bout the handsomest damn thing y'all ever did see and she ain't nothing but a verrue on a crapaud!”

Slowly, Zecora turned to glare at La Croix, but Pinkie Pie was now awkwardly blushing, leaning back and shaking her head violently, but La Croix didn't give her a chance to say anything as he continued in righteous rage: “You think all we zebras is the same, that just 'cause I don't talk like y'all ponies do, that just 'cause I got me stripes I been marked as some lesser being by y'alls god? Well, I sure as hell don't believe in y'alls god! Mon dieu ain't no sissy like y'all and your gods are!”

“No, no, I didn't say that, I didn't say anything about that!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, shaking her head wildly and looking horrified as she almost fell over. “I don't mean to insult you or your god or-”

“Oh, so you think you're better than me 'cause I gots my beliefs in god and magic, is that it? Y'all think I ain't nothin' but a chaoui, right? A dumb thievin' animal, here to steal your garbage! Well, I'll tell you what, petite madame, absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, you hear me?” La Croix stepped towards Pinkie Pie, grabbing her and shaking her violently before he let go of her, and she fell limply backwards, staring up at him disbelievingly. “And I ain't no damn chaoui, you ain't nothin' but a racist, comin' up here, insulting us like that!”

“But... I... wait, what, but, no I-” Pinkie looked stunned, shaking her head wildly as Zecora glared over at La Croix.

But the stallion only huffed and suddenly wrapped a foreleg around the zebra mare as his other firmly slapped against her cheek, making her wince and automatically reach up to grab her face. And then La Croix declared in an injured voice: “And now you call me a liar, after look! Look, you just 'bout pushed her to tears, you call us liars!”

“I... what? No, oh, Zecora, I didn't mean to!” Pinkie wailed despondently, shaking her head fiercely as she put her hooves together. “I'm sorry! I'm really really super sorry if I-”

“If, if, if! And look at you, you still can't accept what you did! You still won't admit what a terrible pony you were, you still think of yourself as better than us!” La Croix struck a theatrical pose with one hoof against his forehead, the other thrust out towards Pinkie.

“No I don't, I really don't! Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I really didn't mean anything by any of it! I just get carried away sometimes, I mean... I'd do anything to make it up to you!” Pinkie pleaded, throwing herself down on the ground in front of the stallion.

And La Croix suddenly grinned, scooping her easily up with one foreleg and poking her chest with the other as he said mildly: “Monetary compensation's always fine.”

Pinkie looked dumbfounded, and then Zecora seized La Croix by the back of his cape and yanked him away, the zebra mare saying flatly: “I am fine, Pinkie Pie. But if La Croix keeps this up, he's going to die.”

“Die of heartache, you mean, with how this pony keeps treating us! She don't even know when it's polite to pick up and leave, after all.” La Croix said pointedly, and when Pinkie Pie stared at him, he leaned over and whispered loudly: “That's your cue to leave, petite madame.”

The pink earth pony blushed, then nodded violently before she quickly spun around and scrambled away, and La Croix laughed loudly before Zecora said distastefully: “I thought you had none of your powers left? From what I've seen, you're not so completely bereft.”

“Hey, I don't need no fancy powers to pull the manes over these ponies' own eyes. They all but beg for it, after all.” La Croix replied easily, shrugging and giving an entertained grin over to Zecora. “Nah, ain't nothin' but a little farce, that's all. You can't blame me for bein' good at deliverin' a punchline, now can you?”

Zecora glared at him, and La Croix huffed and waved a hoof before adding grumpily: “Oh come on, ain't like I hurt nobody. I'm just having a laugh. Une ha-ha, est-ce que tu me comprends?”

“I'm curious, La Croix, why did you adopt that manner of speech? It has nothing to do with what our ancestors used to preach.” Zecora asked calmly, deciding it was better to just move on to another topic than try to reprimand La Croix. He seemed to only take that as encouragement, after all.

La Croix huffed loudly at this, and then he absently smoothed out his cape before replying dryly: “Gotta change with the times, that's all, mademoiselle vielle. But I'm sure that's hard for you to recognize, bein'... one, two hundred years old? Yet you don't look a day over une mille!”

Zecora took a slow breath as they walked along, and then she said almost grudgingly: “I'm seventy-five. That's how long I've been alive.”

“Ooh. Je suis désolé.” La Croix said almost mockingly, and Zecora rolled her eyes before striding past, deciding that they should probably keep going.

La Croix followed for a few moments in relative quiet, only making a few foul-mouthed remarks now and then... that was, right up until two young fillies came running up to Zecora, and she winced a bit as they all immediately stared at La Croix. La Croix looked back at them with something like revulsion, rearing away like he'd never seen foals before.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, and then Zecora cleared her throat before asking the two fillies carefully: “Where is Scootaloo, my dears? You haven't left her behind, I fear?”

“You didn't rhyme the 's' again. Y'can't fool my ears.” La Croix said loudly, and the fillies giggled, which only encouraged the stallion as he grinned mockingly over at Zecora, the mare slowly closing her eyes in vexation.

“Hey, you talk like me, Mister! Howdy doody to ya!” cheerfully shouted the yellow earth pony filly, and La Croix stared at her with disbelief as she grinned up at him, orange eyes gleaming beneath her messy red mane and oversized hair-bow. “Y'all should come back and meet my sister at the farm, bet she'd get a real kick out of a zebra that sounds just like family! Not that you ain't like family, Zecora, I don't mean nothin' by that.”

“The hell do you mean by that? We don't sound similar in the slightest, you mud guppy!” La Croix snapped, and the little filly looked horrified before La Croix whirled towards the white unicorn filly beside her, adding vindictively: “And you look like some kinda pasty little candy tart.”

The fillies traded dumb looks, and then La Croix leapt forwards, stomping his hooves and leaning down as he said darkly: “Now, you two tadpoles listen up, 'cause I ain't gonna repeat myself. Y'all go run along and find your friend, or I'm gonna use this...” He reached out, and the earth pony filly yelped as he plucked a few strands of hair from her mane. “And make me a voodoo doll. You know what that is, right? It let me make you dance! It let me make you sing! It make you do whatever the hell I want you to, got it?”

The filly whimpered and cowered away, and La Croix grinned as he turned his eyes to the terrified-looking unicorn foal, leaning forwards and threatening: “And you, madame, I gonna call down the spirits on, and they gonna take you over, and you gonna find yourself scratching at fleas and howlin' at la lune, until you become a loup-garou and-”

“Girls, please get away from here. My friend has had one too many a beer.” Zecora interrupted shortly, and then she reached up and grabbed La Croix by the ear, the Loa squalling as he was dragged painfully away down the street and then around the corner into an alley.

Zecora finally let go of him here, and the stallion whimpered a bit as he reached up to poke uneasily at one ear as the mare said sharply: “In all my years I've never seen such awful behavior! And yet you say you're supposed to be coming here as some sort of savior! What do you think you're doing, treating fillies like that? It makes me wonder if you even have a brain under that stupid hat!”

“Hey, now that just ain't fair!” La Croix replied grumpily, crossing his forelegs and glowering at her... but he looked a little uneasy now at least, shifting back and forth before he grumbled moodily: “Okay. So maybe I was a little mean to the kiddies. Still, I don't like how everyone 'round these parts assumes we be related.”

Zecora sighed, then said sourly: “Believe me, La Croix, I loathe that as much as you do. But that's still no reason for you to treat them like poo.”

La Croix only shrugged a bit, then said dryly: “Ain't like they gonna do nothin' about it. Now... I think I'm startin' to get all tired-like. You know what? We made good progress today. We here, we dealing with these ponies, now we just gotta find me a place where I can sleep this off. My head be hurtin'.”

The mare slowly rubbed at her face, and then she muttered: “My head hurts too, and aches more at your request... you want a place to sleep after putting all of Ponyville into unrest?”

The stallion only sniffed disdainfully, waving a hoof and replying mildly: “Oh come on now, you're exaggerating, cher. Ain't no way all the ponies here already hate me. Besides, l'argent parle; I know that be the truth in every world.”

La Croix grinned and flicked open his cloak before he pulled out a bag of bits from an inner pocket, and Zecora frowned at him for a few moments before her eyes widened and she blurted: “That sack! Give it back!”

“No, 'smine now. I took it off that pony fair and square, 'long with these.” With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, La Croix seemed to make an apple appear out of nowhere as he grinned widely, eyes gleaming. “Silly ponies all but beg for me to lighten their loads. And here I was, scared that I'd lost my magic touch.”

Zecora ground her teeth together, and then she stomped a hoof angrily before snapping: “You know what I think, La Croix of Darkwater? You don't want help, you want the water you're already in to be hotter! Fine, have it your way if you're going to behave like a whelp, you can deal with the ponies without any of my help!”

And with that, Zecora spun around on her hoof and stormed off, fuming furiously, and La Croix huffed as he waddled out of the alley after her with his stolen goods in his front hooves, shouting: “Yeah, fine then, I don't need you, mademoiselle vielle! Get, get gone then, y'ain't nothing to me, y'hear me, chaoui? You scamper, you get on back to your bayou, get!”

Zecora only strode angrily away, and La Croix sniffed loudly before he bit into the apple, chewing on it slowly before cursing under his breath and spitting out the mouthful of food, looking at it with a grimace. It just... didn't taste right to him now for some reason. “I was even gonna be willing to share it with you, too, but... fine. I don't need you. I don't need anyone's help. Bondye, he know I gonna do good here, I gonna fix things. The Great Balance, 'sall that matters. Ain't gotta pay no attention to these... dumb ponies and their dumb laws and rules, I'm above that.”

La Croix grumbled a little, then he looked back and forth before sighing and flinging the apple away with one hoof, and tucking the bag of coins into an inner pocket of his cape with the other. He quickly brushed himself off, then sniffed loudly before looking back and forth and deciding to find a place where he could stay in this one-carriage town.

La Croix thought that some of the ponies were giving him the old evil eye now when he passed, but he thought that was just because they probably weren't used to seeing any strangers around here, let alone zebras. So he ignored them as he looked for a hotel or an inn or a tent or a stable or whatever the hell these country ponies used for their guests.

But long before he found a place where he'd have to pay to stay, La Croix wandered across a house that looked like it had been abandoned: no one had tended to the dying lawn for at least a month from the growth, and one of the windows was boarded shut. The whole thing had an air of desolation about it... and La Croix looked quickly back and forth before he grinned slightly to himself and then whistled innocently as he calmly walked past the house, then slipped quickly behind a tree to hide.

Once he was absolutely sure there was no one watching, he crept quickly through the yard, darting through the bushes and slinking through the tall grass until he reached the side of the ramshackle house. He looked back and forth, then chuckled to himself before he carefully turned and peered through a dirty, unprotected window into an abandoned kitchen. “Parfait.”

La Croix took another quick look around to make sure no one was watching, and then he slowly, carefully wedged the window up until he was able to hop forwards, reaching through and cursing as he lodged himself in the window. His hind legs kicked a few times as he pulled himself overtop the sink with a wheeze, cursing under his breath before he managed to fling himself into the kitchen with a loud thump.

The zebra hopped up to his hooves, looking over his shoulder before his ears swiveled as he peered back into the house. But there was a thick layer of dust on everything, and the stallion thought he could faintly smell the reek of rotting garbage... so after a moment, he nodded and relaxed a little, muttering: “Ain't no palace, but it'll do for a nap.”

La Croix only gave the house a quick look over: the moment he found a bed and some chewed-up blankets, he flung himself down on it, hat and all. The Loa grumbled to himself as he rolled onto his back... and then he scowled at the ceiling, grumbling: “The hell ain't I asleep yet? This is how it works, right? I just lay me down and I go to sleep. And that be that.”

He halted, then sighed and rubbed at his face slowly, realizing... this whole mortal thing was maybe just a little more complicated then he had thought. He was still hungry, but apples tasted awful and apparently right now, taste was winning over his need for food. He felt exhausted from all this constant walking around, but it seemed like he was missing something, because he wasn't asleep yet. From what he knew, mortals just flopped down in their beds, and then poof, they were asleep.

The Loa grumbled under his breath as he wiggled back and forth, and then he groaned before looking at the ceiling and complaining: “Bondye, ain't this bad enough? Ain't I deserve some reward? I mean, hell, the day ain't even over yet and already here I am, found these ponies, gonna find out what the hell is wrong with the cycle...”

The zebra scowled a bit, flopping over on his side and muttering: “Bet it has to do with that Twilight Sparkle, though... she a cocodril. Gonna be even worse if those other two be here, too... gonna have to keep my guard up.”

He nodded firmly to himself a few times, then kicked absently at the air before rolling back and forth grumpily, mumbling: “Ain't fair though. Ain't right, neither. I know what I gotta do, though... I gotta get me some ingredients. I gotta...”

La Croix scowled at the ceiling, crossing his forelegs and mumbling: “No. I don't need the help of mademoiselle vielle. That be crazy talk, crazy thoughts, I don't even know what made me think something so fou.”

He shook his head fiercely, then grumbled under his breath before reaching into his cape and pulling out the bag of coins from the hidden inner pocket, bouncing it slowly on his hoof and letting his eyes slip closed thoughtfully. “Now let's see here. We got enough money to make us some more cash... we got some nasty apples we gonna have to cook or something... we know that a healer lives nearby, which means there must be some useful plants 'round here. Now we just gotta decide what we gonna do next... after I gets some sleep, I mean.”

La Croix dropped the bag of coins on his chest, then crossed his forelegs and huffed a bit, wondering moodily why it was so damn hard for him to do all these dumb little things that apparently mortal ponies did each and every day without any trouble.

He huffed a little and shook his head again, then shifted uncomfortably as he felt a strange twist run through his body, shivering as a sudden cold bit along his skin. He cursed under his breath, then shook his head briefly before muttering: “No, no... ain't... ain't nothing wrong... I just gotta have a little fais do do...”

“You might wanna think twice about that, La Croix...” whispered a voice, and La Croix's eyes blinked open, before he yelped and sat sharply up when he realized he was no longer laying in a dirty, abandoned house, but now he was in a dark clearing, black trees stretching up towards the dark sky, and two figures seated across from him around a cauldron, both grinning widely as they tossed all variety of ingredients into the huge pot.

La Croix swore under his breath, and then his eyes widened before he leaned forwards and shouted in a strangled voice: “Y'all get the hell out of my mind!”

“Mon frère! Don't be so touchy!” laughed one of the figures, and he grinned widely as he easily flicked a hoof out, a green bonfire bursting to life beneath the cauldron as La Croix winced, then hurriedly flung himself out of bed before gritting his teeth, puffing out his chest, and stalking towards his two fellow Loa.

He did his best not to show that their presence, now of all times, made him a little nervous: even if Cimetaire and Samedi were brothers to him – as brotherly as spirits could be, that was – it wasn't like family meant a whole lot here. After all, it hadn't been until the axe had been about to cut off his damn head that they had finally asked Bondye to show a bit of mercy. And he had the feeling that they were greatly enjoying his newly-demoted status.

La Croix stopped at the other side of the cauldron, then groaned and grabbed his stomach as he smelled the cloying, delicious smell flowing out of it. “Y'all are making my favorite gumbo here!”

“It's only in your mind, but... hey, feed the senses, feed the body.” teased the better-dressed of the pair: Baron Samedi. He had a posh hat with a feather sticking out of it, and almost a full, flowing suit over his body, with a long-tailed jacket and all kinds of glimmering buckles and buttons. He had the same kind of patterning as La Croix as well: a skull-like pattern over his face, white stripes like bones cutting through his black hide.

But he was much neater, much more elegant. La Croix, really, was the least well-dressed of all of them: Cimetaire was somewhere between the two, with his silk jacket and scarf, and that damned skull-topped cane he insisted on lugging around everywhere. Cimetaire was also currently grinning at him, and La Croix scowled before he reached out and shoved a hoof into his nose, making him wrinkle up his muzzle. “Sorry, mon frère. I thought I'd lost you beneath that grande chapeau of yours.”

“Now careful, La Croix. We all be in a unique position here. We all Loa, but you also like a mortal right now: you push me a little too hard, I might be tempted to see what your cauchemars be like.” replied Cimetaire pointedly, giving a thin smile to the abrasive zebra.

“And you know, you do owe us now. We went against Bondye for you, mon frère. That means you should give us a little bit of respect.” Samedi said in his charming voice, gesturing easily out towards La Croix. “Have a bit of humor, mon ami! Or does your stomach rumble that badly for a bit of gumbo? But I wouldn't think that you would have so much trouble even finding food.”

“Food, no. Edible food on the other hoof, that be a completely different story.” La Croix grumbled, then he peered longingly into the cauldron, fearless of the emerald flames leaping and licking along the sides of the pot as he leaned against it and licked his lips slowly. “Just gimme a taste, huh? Just a little something to tide me over. You know how hard it's been for me? You know how dumb these ponies be?”

Samedi only gave him a wry look, and Cimetaire sniffed before he couldn't help but remark: “Oh, La Croix, look at you now... you're rhyming just like that shaman cow.”

“Hey! Don't you go sayin' that, I ain't rhyming none!” La Croix snapped in an offended voice, glaring between his brothers before he asked grumpily: “And how in the name of sweet Bondye did y'all know about that, anyway? Don't you two got somethin' better to do?”

“Oh no, you see, for speaking out against monsieur Bondye, we've been given a special assignment for the month. The other minor Loa and spirits of the otherworld can handle our usual tasks... instead, we have to make sure that you don't go ruining things.” replied Samedi pleasantly, giving a slight smile. “And of course, we'll be there to clean up if you happen to... mettre du désordre.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then La Croix bared his teeth as he leaned slowly forwards, asking in a low, dangerous voice: “Are y'all saying you don't trust me to get my job done?”

“Nonsense. I'm sayin' Bondye don't trust you to get the job done... and of course, I just do what the boss tells me. I ain't like you, La Croix. I ain't an arrogant little connard, going out of my way to make everyone around me furieux.” Baron Samedi said pleasantly, reaching across the cauldron to gently bop the end of La Croix's muzzle.

La Croix ground his teeth together, and then Cimetaire added mildly: “Besides, of course eyes are watching. There'll always be eyes watchin', though, La Croix... and you seem to forget that we like to show a certain style in the things we do.”

The Loa-made-mortal only snorted, shaking his head and shoving himself backwards before he grumbled: “I got style, I got class, I be the mieux of the mieux, y'all hear me?”

“We hear you, La Croix. But just like those ouaouarons you claim to hate so much , you're a singing your song without no regard for the reality around you.” Baron Samedi said kindly, shaking his head slowly before he added pleasantly: “Look at yourself, boo. You're dirty and dog-tired already, and you keep ramblin' on about what a mighty Loa you are to everyone in earshot... but you ain't that no more. You keep singing your laments, though, tell us all 'bout how the world's so unfair, how justice ain't been done...”

“Sure, and we do that justice back upon you, mon frère.” added Cimetaire in a colder voice, the Loa licking his lips slowly before he plucked up his cane from where it was stuck in the ground beside him, hammering the silver head of the walking stick against the cauldron. “And have you stopped to wonder, mon ami, what's gonna happen to you if you fail?”

La Croix scowled... then yelped and flung himself to the ground when a claw tore out of the surface of the gumbo, his eyes bulging as he scrambled backwards, whimpering weakly as several smoky, ethereal demons crawled out of the pot, leaving trails of ice and smoke behind them as he shouted: “Oh no, no no no, not there not there!”

“Oh yes. Bondye don't like Nanny Hel none, La Croix... but he don't like you even more.” Cimetaire said pleasantly, grinning and gesturing easily towards the fuming, freezing, formless demons as they eagerly stalked through the muck towards La Croix. “So he says... if you fail... you ain't gonna just get kicked out of Darkwater, powerless and mortal.”

“The demons will hunt you, La Croix. The demons will eat you, La Croix, and if you lucky enough to wake up... it's gonna be in Helheim.” finished Baron Samedi almost gently, and La Croix shook his head wildly in denial.

“No, no! Keep away! I don't done nothing wrong!” La Croix wailed, and then he yelled and spun around when the demons dove at him, covering his head with his hooves and clenching his eyes shut, curling helplessly up as he felt mud and ice and death and worse...

And then... there was nothing. La Croix blinked stupidly and sat up, hat toppling off his head and bouncing off the edge of the bed before he grabbed wildly at himself, then wheezed loudly in relief, slumping a bit and muttering: “Y'all are jerks.”

He shivered a bit, then rubbed slowly at his head before taking a few slow, calming breaths. He shook his head briefly, then cursed under his breath as he saw not only his hat, but his bag fallen to the ground and spilled open, its contents glimmering over the dusty floor.

The zebra grumbled and hopped out of the bed, picking his hat up and quickly brushing it off before he tossed it into the air. Then he turned his attention towards picking up the coins, his hat landing on his head as he grumbled under his breath.

But he couldn't get those images out of his mind... he couldn't believe that he wasn't just mortal, but so mortal that his fellow Loa could get inside his head and play all their nasty tricks on him, just like they did with anyone who tried to weasel out of a bargain with them.

And worse, if he screwed this up, they were going to send him to the one place he feared more than dying. La Croix shivered a little as he picked up the bag of coins, kneading it in his hooves as he shook his head before mumbling: “I ain't... I ain't done nothin' wrong, though. This how life works: either you a sucker, or you the guy leading the suckers on. Ain't nothing more complicated than that.”

La Croix shook his head quickly, then he tossed the bag of coins into one of the pockets of his cape before he strode out of the bedroom, tossing one last, nervous look at the bed behind him. He knew that Samedi and Cimetaire weren't going to miss any chance they got to make his life hell now: even if they might not entirely want him dead, they sure as mud wanted him to look as stupid as possible. He might be able to count on the 'help' of the Loa in a pinch, but... there would always be a cost. And they were going to take a whole lot of pleasure in pulling his strings.

The Loa swore under his breath as he stormed through the abandoned house, then he kicked it open without thinking... and found himself almost face-to-face with a pony with a mustache, a large hat, and a badge pinned to his vest.

The two looked at each other for a few moments, and then La Croix snapped: “What are you looking at, standing there, dumb as a moochon? Get out of my way or I bring down a hex on you, make it so you ain't just as ugly and stupid as a mashwarohn, you as floppy, too!”

There was silence for a few moments, and then the pony slowly narrowed his eyes, and La Croix huffed before asking flatly: “That ol' stink eye supposed to scare me? All that bothers me 'bout it be your damn face.”

La Croix grinned widely... that was, until two more ponies in uniform appeared. His grin faded ever so slightly, before the zebra yelped and tried to turn too late when the three ponies leapt on top of him. And the zebra was shocked at how easily they overpowered him and squashed him down into the ground, two of them pinning him flat while the mustached pony glared down in his face.

“You, stranger, are under arrest for breaking and entering, being a public menace, and anything else I can think of! Boys, let's take him downtown.” ordered the pony, and La Croix mouthed wordlessly, looking up at the stallion with horror.

But before he could babble out any excuses, the other two police ponies dragged him quickly backwards, then flung him into the open back of a wagon. La Croix bounced through it with a yelp before hitting the back wall with a loud thud, then he looked up with horror as the door slammed shut and left him in stupefied darkness.

Jumpsuit Sweethearts

Chapter Three: Jumpsuit Sweethearts
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix scowled horribly as he glared out of the bars of his cell, twitching a little every now and then. There were large bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and his features were gaunt not just with tiredness, but with hunger: his thinness made the skeletal patterning over his body stand out all the more disturbingly... at least, where it was visible through the dirty orange jumpsuit he was wearing.

“This is wrong! Hey, I know y'all can hear me!” La Croix shouted, his voice surprisingly strong... but it was the only thing left that had any strength now. His legs were wobbling beneath him, and he was keeping himself on his hooves only because most of his weight was on his face, which was pressed painfully into the bars. “I got rights! Y'all can't just throw me aside! Liberté! J'exige liberté!”

There was no response from down the hall, where he knew the stupid sheriff and his stupid deputies were working. La Croix swore, then sat backwards on his haunches, glaring balefully out of this little ugly cell at the back of the so-called 'police station,' which wasn't a whole lot more than a renovated house. He began to open his mouth to shout, but it turned into a long, painful yawn that made his head swim.

La Croix shook his head furiously, then looked grumpily over at the cot on one side of the cell. He'd tried to tear it apart to help resist the urge to sleep, but all he'd really managed to do was get his sheets dirty. And then one of the deputies had taken his pillow away so he didn't even anything to sit on now. Well. Apart from the dirty cot and the toilet.

He scowled a little at this, then glared at the food tray sitting on one side of the room. His stomach clenched with pain, but he was making do with just water and a little bit of the dried hay they gave him. Dammit, he was supposed to be a Loa, above all this! And even if he had to eat something, he sure as hell wasn't going to sink so low as to eat the scraps off the table these ponies gave him.

The Loa grumbled to himself... then yawned again and swayed uneasily, but he hurriedly shook his head before cursing and rubbing at his stomach when it cramped again painfully. At least that was helping keep him awake but... sooner or later, he knew he was going to fall asleep...

But if he fell asleep, his fellow Loa were going to grab him and force him into what would definitely be an unpleasant meeting. They had been mad enough at him the first night he'd spent here and been dumb enough to fall asleep: he'd sworn to his brothers he'd escape within a day, two at the most. And he had honestly thought he'd be able to, easily.

Now, it had been five days. All his clothing had been taken away and he kept catching glimpses of one of the deputies wearing his damn hat! And he knew that if he didn't figure out a way to get out of here soon, they were going to figure out there was a lot more to his clothing than it seemed: but he somehow wasn't surprised that these hayseeds hadn't bothered trying to search the pockets of his cape. At least, not yet.

“I got a right to a fair trial! I got... I know my rights!” La Croix half-shouted, half-rasped, raising a hoof to shake it angrily. But that motion alone made him woozy, and he groaned as he half-toppled forwards, catching himself against the bars before he wheezed loudly and mumbled: “Y'all can't do this to me. Je suis... importante.”

La Croix swore under his breath... and then he tipped slowly forwards until his face gently struck the bars, the zebra whimpering weakly before he mumbled nonsense words sleepily, then started to snore quietly.

Then the zebra started backwards, leaping to his hooves... before groaning when he found himself not in reality, but instead in a dream world. He looked back and forth miserably at the purple, smoky walls around him as the floor melted into dark bayou mud, and then he scowled as the bars of the cell simply collapsed outwards, the Loa shouting: “Okay, okay, I get it, enough with the theatrics! I ain't no con!”

La Croix huffed a bit, then did his best to swallow his apprehension as he strode out over the fallen bars and into an open forest. He wrinkled up his muzzle as he looked back and forth, then grumbled: “Why don't I get to see the nice side o' Darkwater anymore? Is that too much to ask, a little sunshine, a little color to the bayou? 'Sall mist and muck, that ain't so bon.”

He huffed again, then shook his head quickly before he caught sight of his two brothers seated on the other side of the bog. Immediately, he turned towards them, completely ignoring the gestures they made at him as he shouted: “I still got a little over three weeks, y'all don't need to be rushin' me so damn much. As a matter of fact, I happen to be learnin' all sorts of things 'bout these ponies. I ain't caged up, I'm a renard in the poulailler!”

La Croix grinned widely, then scowled as Cimetaire and Samedi only continued to gesture at him violently before he huffed, saying flatly: “Whatever y'all trying to do, hoof-waving ain't gonna make me think y'all workin' some dark magic on me. I ain't no stupid ouaouaron.”

“No, you're a stupid souris.” growled a voice, and La Croix squealed before bolting across the bayou and leaping behind his brothers. But he wasn't able to cower for long before they both seized him and hurriedly flung him forwards.

“B-Bondye! Bondye! It's... it's so good to see you!” La Croix whimpered, flopping down in the mud before he forced himself to look up, grinning weakly as the massive figure of the deity slowly stalked into the nightmare-bayou. “I... I found the ponies, Bondye, I gonna fix this real quick, I-”

“Shut up.” Bondye said coldly, raising his scaled head: he towered over La Croix, an immense gray-green goliath of a reptile. But he wasn't a dragon: he was a massive alligator, with stony white scales forming a death-mask over his face and bony illustrations all along his broad, spiky back. “Look at you, La Croix. Failing every step of the way. You don't walk, you don't even stumble towards your goal: you trip and fall your way towards whatever your objective happens to be.”

“I... I sure is clumsy, you right about that Bondye, I'm just a big clumsy connard, ain't no one dumber or more clumsy than me!” La Croix gave a weak, forced laugh as he hit himself on the head a few times, cold sweat running down his face as the alligator-god scowled down at him. “B-B-But I'm gonna succeed with this, you wait and see, gonna fix the cycle, help all these ponies, just... j-just like you want me to-”

“I don't care about them or about you. I don't even care about the cycle. What I care about is that you have made me look stupid and incompetent. What I care about is that you have made our pantheon a laughingstock. What I care about, La Croix, is that you dared to go ahead and make these ill-informed decisions on your own, you sniveling little poppet.” Bondye growled, leaning slowly down so that he was almost pressing nose-to-nose with La Croix.

And La Croix could smell death on Bondye's breath, could see teeth bigger than his head jutting from that calloused, scaly muzzle, could feel that malicious anger wafting off the deity. He had to do something, say something, anything... “Boss, I... I swear to you, I ain't never done that! I always been loyal, I always done what I was told!”

Bondye snorted, eldritch-green eyes narrowing as he growled: “Somehow I doubt that, La Croix. Look at you, even now. Your brothers were sent to warn you, and what did you do, right after they cautioned you? Got yourself thrown in this gaol!”

La Croix dropped his head, covering it with a whimper before he blurted: “But boss, I... I got a plan, okay? I got a great plan, and... and I swear, I'm gonna fix the cycle, I'm gonna... I'm gonna prove to you I ain't done nothing wrong, monseigneur Bondye!”

There was silence for a moment, and then the massive alligator snorted steam over La Croix, making him whimper and cower deeper into the mud before the immense reptile rumbled: “For your sake, La Croix, I hope you're telling the truth. And for your brothers' sake as well.

“Still, you need encouragement. You need help.” Bondye sounded almost meditative, and La Croix looked up nervously as the alligator rubbed slowly under his chin, then suddenly smiled coldly before saying calmly: “I know. I hear you're having trouble with finding food suitable for your... pallet, is this correct, La Croix?”

“Well, y-you know, Bondye. Ain't what I'm used to, and all that.” La Croix gave a whimpering laugh, grinning weakly up at the alligator. “I'm... I'm r-right sure that I can get used to it, though!”

Bondye gave a dry, cold chuckle at this, and La Croix shrank back as the alligator-deity asked almost mockingly: “But why should you? You're a superior Loa, aren't you, La Croix? No, no. You deserve a little help, don't you?”

La Croix whimpered, then gave a weak smile, and Bondye chuckled quietly before he leaned down and breathed green-tinged steam over the zebra, La Croix curling up and shivering as the hot mist spread through his nose, tickled along his tongue, made his eyes burn and his mind and body cringe... but it faded, leaving only a... a lingering, cottony feeling on his tongue and a strange, thick feeling around his nostrils.

Hesitantly, La Croix looked up... then he frowned and grabbed at his own face before Bondye said calmly: “There. You shouldn't have any problem eating anything now, La Croix. It'll all taste the same to you. Now, you have twenty-five days to hold up your end of the bargain... don't fail me, La Croix. You won't like the cost if you do.”

La Croix grinned, began to open his mouth... and then he squealed when Bondye stomped on him with one stubby claw, knocking him flopping onto his back in a splash of darkness to-

The zebra's head painfully whacked off the cement floor of his cell, and his eyes opened before he groaned in agony, grabbing at the back of his head and rolling back and forth, giving faint little whimpers as he shivered weakly.

Finally, he sat up before rubbing at his face and grimacing a little. At least he couldn't smell the reek of the cell anymore. And maybe if he'd finally gotten used to that...

La Croix turned his eyes apprehensively towards the food tray one of the deputies had left. It wasn't that he didn't trust Bondye... well, actually, okay, it was. He and the other Loa were very nearly malicious when it came to the deals they made, always twisting it to one way or another, always trying to take that inch and make it a mile. But all great things started small, right?

The zebra nervously rubbed at his face, then he hesitantly slipped towards the tray: there wasn't really anything on it apart from some dried hay. With him as their only prisoner, and all his constant yelling at them, none of them were very eager to be around him. He only saw them when he managed to provoke one of them back here, or they came to change out the food tray.

La Croix carefully picked up some of the hay, then he scowled before nervously putting it in his mouth. At first, he was terrified that Bondye had made it so everything he ate was going to taste like bilge... but to his surprise, he didn't taste anything at all. He could barely even make out the texture of the hay as... as...

La Croix's eyes widened in horror, and then he spat the hay out before shoving his own hoof in his mouth... but he didn't taste that, either, or any of the dirt or sweat or...

The Loa looked back and forth almost wildly, then he suddenly leapt forwards and licked the bar: nothing. He knew it was metal, but he didn't taste metal. He turned around, half-stumbling towards his bed, and leapt onto it to bite the sheets... and again, no taste. No smell, either...

The Loa's head snapped up, sheet still hanging from his mouth, eyes wide with horror. No smell. He couldn't taste anything, and he couldn't smell anything either. Bondye had made everything taste the same by taking away his ability to taste or smell anything at all.

La Croix gave a half-furious, half-terrified wheeze around the sheets in his maw, and then a throat cleared loudly, catching his attention. Slowly, La Croix turned towards the source of this noise, and then he scowled horribly at the sight of Zecora and the sheriff, blushing only slightly around the sheets in his maw before he snapped in a muffled voice: “Quoi?”

“Oh, I was just curious how you were doing. I heard from a friend that in a cell you were stewing.” Zecora replied pleasantly enough, before she calmly reached back into one of the large satchels hanging from her side... and La Croix's eyes widened as she pulled out his hat. “I collected your cape too, my friend. So, are you ready for your time in prison to end?”

La Croix spat out the sheets and stepped forwards... and promptly tangled his legs in the thick material, tripping and slamming muzzle-first into the ground. Zecora and the sheriff both winced a bit as La Croix grabbed at his face, whimpering and flopping onto his side, but then he ground his aching teeth together before forcing himself to sit up and simply nod, doing his best to glare balefully through his watery eyes.

Zecora sighed tiredly, and the sheriff cleared his throat before saying grudgingly: “I don't like doing this, but I was told by Zecora here that you're a stranger, and you were payin' your respects to the dearly departed. Although that's a strange custom, breaking into dead ponies' houses and bein' rude to the living and breathing.”

La Croix began to open his mouth, but Zecora glared at him and it hurt just to breathe, so the Loa only grumpily nodded. But the relief he felt was palpable when the sheriff stepped up to the door of the cell and opened the lock, the zebra stallion fighting to stop himself from running forwards.

But just as he began to pass through the door, the sheriff stopped him with one hoof before gesturing at the orange jumpsuit the zebra was wearing, saying mildly: “I'm gonna need that back, son. We got it special-order like, you see. You're the only crook we've had to put in the hoosegow for quite some time, but you never know when it might be needed again.”

The Loa grumbled to himself, then he reached up and unzipped the jumpsuit, flailing his way out of it before kicking it off. The sheriff glared at him, and La Croix glared back before groaning inwardly when Zecora gave him a pointed look, the stallion reaching down and sweeping up the orange suit to thrust it firmly towards the earth pony. “Voilà, mon ami. And merci beaucoup for the fine stay. I'll certainly never forget it.”

“That sure is some fancy language you talk, Mister La Croix.” the sheriff said moodily, and then he sighed a little and asked hesitantly: “You sure you can handle him, Miss Zecora? We were all excited about the idea of having a real live trial right here in Ponyville...”

“Believe me, sheriff, La Croix isn't worth all that time and effort...” Zecora smiled slightly, then she held the hat out to the Loa, who snatched it back and put it on his head with a sigh of relief. “Your skills are much better put to use at this defense fort.”

“Well, I wouldn't call it a fort... but it is pretty impressive, isn't it? And we certainly held him no problem!” the sheriff said proudly, smiling warmly, and La Croix only gave the pony a dry look as Zecora smiled back... although the Loa could swear it was a little bit strained. “Do you guys want the grand tour? It would be a heck of a way to send you off after you spent all that time locked up here!”

Zecora winced a bit, and La Croix shook his head violently before he rubbed at his face, muttering: “Merci, but I think me and Zecora have got to go... uh... do zebra magic stuff. I'm a little late with my uh... daily prayers and all that. Five days late.”

“Was that what you were trying to tell us? You know, if you'd just said something, we would have certainly allowed you to do... whatever you need for... that.” the sheriff said, and he sounded so naïve, so honestly surprised, that La Croix felt just a tiny bit bad for him. But then the sheriff shrugged and said kindly: “Well, no harm done, right? And besides, you know you did something wrong, too.”

La Croix grumbled under his breath, and Zecora sighed before starting down the hallway, the Loa falling in step behind her and the sheriff suddenly much more cheerful than he had been only moments before as he asked: “Say, you want to hear a joke? I know, I got a great one. Do you know what they call the queen of all cells in Canterlot? Cell-estia. Get it? Celestia!”

La Croix ground his teeth together painfully, and Zecora winced ever-so-slightly... but thankfully, they were already in the main 'lobby' of the little station, where the two deputies were pecking away at typewriters. They both jumped to their hooves when the sheriff entered, however, the mustached stallion looking a little disappointed as he called awkwardly: “Well uh... come back any time! You don't have to commit a crime or anything, uh... be... just be nice to have some visitors... no one ever commits any crimes around here...”

Neither zebra looked back, hurrying out the front doors and into the bright sunlight, and La Croix scowled a bit and began to open his mouth to complain about the glare. But instead, he coughed loudly before spitting a stream of blood to the side, and Zecora winced at this as the stallion reached up and rubbed slowly at his jaw, muttering: “Can't even taste my own damn blood.”

He sighed a little, then looked moodily over at Zecora, adding crankily: “And some great damn timing you have. You couldn't have been five minutes earlier, mademoiselle vielle? Would have saved me a whole lot of trouble. And where's my damn cape?”

“Alright, La Croix, let me make this clear. Shut up, or I'll abandon you right here. And this time I won't come back. I've had more than enough of your flack.” Zecora said flatly, and La Croix whined in his throat before the zebra added moodily: “And while you've been... indisposed... I've taken the time to discover where the balance may be opposed.”

La Croix looked sharply towards the mare, then he gestured at her impatiently, asking eagerly: “Well? Where then, spit it out, honeychile! What do you got for me, sweet sainted vielle?”

“First of all, I'm going to get you out of town. I promised Ponyville you would stop making them frown. The easiest way to do that for now is to take you away... so, much as I dread it, at my home I invite you to stay.”

Zecora grimaced a bit, shaking her head briefly, and La Croix looked at her with surprise... then he gave a sour smile, saying moodily: “Well, I doubt it can be a whole lot worse than here, anyway. And besides, if you get too unbearable, I can always ramble my way somewhere else.”

“Oh really?” Zecora gave him a mild look, and La Croix fumbled for a reply before the mare smiled slightly. “Exactly. Silly.”

“I ain't silly! Y'all be silly! Damn ol' nag!” La Croix retorted, flailing a hoof angrily at her, and Zecora blinked and reared back slightly in surprise... and then she couldn't help but laugh at the childish petulance of the Loa, making him both blush and glare all the more angrily. “You... you stop that right now, y'hear? I ain't no spirit to be trifled with!”

Zecora only continued to laugh, until La Croix bared his red-stained teeth... and almost abruptly, the mare's laughter died out, more suddenly than it had come. A faint smile lingered, but her green eyes studied him thoughtfully, almost sadly, gauging this bloody-muzzled idiot who didn't even realize how badly he had hurt himself... “We should tend to your mouth, it looks rather unpleasant... do you trust me enough to take a potion at present?”

La Croix scowled a bit, and then he poked slowly at his jaw before wincing in pain and cursing. Then he frowned for a moment before spitting to the side... and a passing filly screamed in disgust and ran away at the sight of his bloody spit, the stallion glowering after her as Zecora sighed and muttered: “Forget about trust. We do what we must.”

“Hey, you ain't forcing nothing down my throat, y'hear?” La Croix reared away from the mare distrustfully, beginning to scowl deeper... and when it felt like something in his jaw shifted painfully and jabbed a burning-hot sword into his jawbone, he flinched a bit before dropping his head forwards into his hooves and mumbling: “Okay. But don't try and drug me. We Loa be immune to that.”

“Sure you are. You're immune by far.” Zecora muttered, reaching back into her satchel and sighing a little as she dug around a bit, before pausing to pull out his cape. La Croix immediately brightened, almost snatching this away... then scowling horribly as the mare added calmly: “I took the liberty of returning that bag of coins, by the way... you should thank me, since Applejack was looking to kick you into yesterday. But I explained it was a silly mistake, and she relented after I bought her a cake.”

“Bought her a cake. You barely bought me a damn apple.” La Croix grumbled as he threw on his cape, then swiftly did up the buttons before quickly running his hooves over the other hidden pockets, adding sourly: “You best not have helped yourself to the rest of my stuff. I'll know if anything's missing, mademoiselle vielle. I ain't fou.”

Zecora only sighed, already back to digging through her satchel as she muttered: “You make it very difficult to want to help you, La Croix. You're not half as sly, nor as swift as the fox.”

“You best shut up now, or I'm gonna... pow.” La Croix said irritably, waving his hoof and shaking it threateningly back and forth. “Right in your face, you... damn disgrace. Yeah, that's what y'are, a damn disgrace! Healers, pah. What's the point of helpin' everyone first and yourself last?”

“I'd try to explain it to you, and how that thinking is the root of all your pain... but all the big words I'd have to use might confuse your poor brain.” Zecora replied dryly as she pulled out a vial, and La Croix looked at her moodily before the mare sighed and asked: “Perhaps we should call a truce for now? We can get back to insulting each other later, I vow.”

“And I'll look forwards to it.” grumbled the Loa, and then he hesitantly took the bottle when Zecora offered it. He began to open his mouth... then looked queasily down when a bit more blood spilled out of his jaw, mumbling: “How much of this stuff do you mortals have? I'm startin' to feel a little lightheaded here. Oh, Bondye. Maybe you did do me a favor after all...”

Zecora sighed a little at this, then gestured at the vial, saying quietly: “You haven't lost that much yet, La Croix... although I'm surprised you talk without flaw. Your tongue looks like it was cut fairly deep... the pain must indeed be very steep. But a drink of the potion will take that away, and it should stop your bleeding, I pray.”

La Croix blinked in surprise at this, and then he gave a dumb laugh before rubbing slowly at his jaw, muttering: “Luck of the diable. Ain't I a... wait, wait. Wait a minute, the hell do you mean by 'pray?' I need a lot more than prayer, mademoiselle vielle!”

“Actually, as a Loa, you should know how prayer works better than most. You do claim to be part of the most righteous spiritual host.” retorted Zecora, and La Croix scowled at her before the mare sighed and rubbed at her face. “I'll be honest with you, as much as it pains me to be. I don't know how that potion will affect a Loa like thee.”

“That right there. Cheating. Like rhyming somethin' like... I dunno. Connard and lard.” La Croix muttered. “Y'ain't allowed to do that. I am, but you ain't.”

Zecora looked at him moodily, and La Croix scowled back before he grimaced and spat to the side, shivering a bit and looking down at the potion in his hoof. It felt warm, but... well... she had him at a huge disadvantage. And that scared him: what if she realized he couldn't taste or smell anymore? He wouldn't be able to tell anymore what she was feeding him... and he could see she was already getting suspicious, since apparently Bondye had completely numbed his tongue somehow, even if he could still talk. Which he was glad for, but... it was weird. I guess Bondye knows I need my silver tongue to get this job done... 'sall he left me with now, after all...

“Is something wrong?” Zecora asked quietly, and La Croix scowled at her... but the mare only shook her head, undeterred as she emphasized: “I'll find out anyway; why prolong?”

“'Cause your damn rhyming annoys me. Fou salope.” muttered La Croix almost angrily, and then he yanked the cork out of the bottle before knocking the contents back, drinking it in a few almost-desperate gulps.

Zecora frowned at La Croix, but the stallion only gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, then gasped loudly as he felt a burning heat fill his maw, rolling his jaw back and forth before he spat several times to the side with a grimace. But then he blinked, rubbing his tongue carefully along his teeth before spitting again to the side... and there was only the faintest tinge of pink now, La Croix sighing in relief before he looked grudgingly at Zecora.

She looked back evenly, and there was silence for a few moments before the stallion dropped his head forwards and mumbled: “Merci. I hate you, but I guess I owe you... two, now.”

“Three, La Croix, if you want to keep track. I guided you to Ponyville until you started to talk too much smack.” Zecora replied pleasantly, and La Croix rolled his eyes... but then to her surprise, he nodded grudgingly. “But... good deeds are in themselves their own reward. Now, let's go back to my home, before you get bored.”

“Oh, you and y'all ain't boring at all, believe me. Annoying, frustrating, gullible and a whole lot of other things, certainly, but y'ain't boring in the slightest.” replied La Croix moodily, shaking his head quickly. Zecora only gave him an amused look, however, refusing to be put off by his obnoxiousness as she turned around and gestured for him to follow.

He fell in pace behind her readily enough, sighing a little but knowing it was pointless to argue... and admittedly, a large part of him was very eager to get out of here. Maybe he was even just a little bit anxious to see just where this zebra lived... and more importantly, what kinds of herbs and potions she might have on hoof.

La Croix chuckled to himself as he strode after Zecora; the mare, meanwhile, snuck a brief look over her shoulder at him, sizing him thoughtfully up before she gave her head a quick shake. He was such a strange creature, but every now and then she caught a glimpse of someone who... wasn't entirely bad beneath that obnoxious exterior.

He was a Loa, and as she was learning, the Loa looked at the world in a very cynical light: you were either a puppet, or you were the puppeteer. There was nothing in between, it was always one or the other... and she was starting to wonder just what La Croix thought of her. If she was his mark, or he considered her an uneasy... well, what did puppeteers consider their fellow manipulators? Not friends, she was sure. Rivals, maybe? Necessary evils?

She shook her head briefly as she led him through the town, hesitating only a moment before she glanced over her shoulder and asked softly: “La Croix, there's something I'd like to know. Do you think of me as friend or foe?”

“I think of you as annoying, cher.” La Croix said grumpily, and then he shook his head before saying distastefully, when he caught the mare's pointed look at him: “Look. You got something I want. I got something you apparently need. That be that, understand? You ain't ma amie, don't you be thinking anything stupid like that.”

“Believe me, I didn't expect to hear that from you. I just wanted to know where we stood in true.” the zebra mare replied quietly, giving him a short nod before turning her eyes back ahead.

La Croix grunted, looking almost warily at Zecora, but then he shook his head quickly again before glancing back and forth, noting the ponies shooting him furtive looks as they walked along the dusty road. Then he huffed loudly, blowing a raspberry at one as they passed and making the pony gasp almost in horror. “Now you gotta answer me a question, mademoiselle vielle. Why do all these ponies gotta give me the evil eye?”

“Possibly because you provoke and frustrate them so much. It really wouldn't hurt for you to try and be a little more in touch.” Zecora said after a moment, and La Croix grunted before he strode quickly up beside the mare, firmly bumping into her and making her scowl a little. “I didn't mean touch me, La Croix. You might be clumsy, but at least you can watch where you walk.”

“Ouch. You really know how to talk to the stallions, don't you? Besides, I ain't going to steal either a feel or from your saddlebags, if that's what you be worried about.” La Croix sniffed loudly, raising his head proudly. “I got much better ways to get what I need. I ain't no chaoui like you.”

“Okay, I think we should set a new social standard. First of all, I prefer not to be slandered. Secondly, no name-calling, La Croix. It's not like I point out you act like your head's full of rocks.” grumbled Zecora, and La Croix yawned loudly in her face, making the zebra mare scowl. “Third, stop acting so rude whenever you can. Of that in particular I am not a fan.”

The Loa rolled his eyes at this, then challenged: “Tell you what. You say one damn thing without rhymin' like some fou oiseaux, and I act whatever you like for the entire day.”

“The way I speak is to please the spirits that I serve: the fact you'd asked me to change that of all things shows some nerve.” Zecora said stiffly, shaking her head shortly. “Furthermore, it takes much concentration and thought. It is a mental dance, each sentence a battle well fought.”

“Great job slappin' yourself on the back there, boo. Really goes to show a whole lot about you.” La Croix said ironically, and Zecora gave him a flat look... then suddenly smiled slightly, earning a confused scowl from the stallion.

But the mare only shook her head, looking down the dusty road with entertainment and remarking: “Oh, nothing, just reflecting the effect we have on one-another... I suppose I can't entirely blame the ponies when they call us sister and brother.”

“Oh, don't you start that! You wish you could be my damn sister.” La Croix grumbled, looking sourly at the mare before he said grumpily: “Tell you what. Let's just get back to whatever mudhole you call home. We go from there.”

Zecora sighed at this, shaking her head distastefully, but silently agreeing, and for a little while they walked on in an uneasy truce. Soon, they left the village behind, passing through the outskirts and towards the Everfree Forest... and it was here that La Croix insisted on stopping for a moment, scowling at the trees and the sense of natural, chaotic life that emanated from it.

“We goin' in there? There a weird magic in there.” La Croix complained, then he rubbed moodily at one of his legs and added grumpily: “Well, we should find something decent to eat. Fry up some ouaouarons, maybe. Find us a poulet.”

“Why don't you try grazing, if your hunger is so high raising?” Zecora asked mildly, gesturing out towards the grass, and La Croix looked horrified at this thought, rearing back with a shiver.

“You're kidding me, right?” La Croix asked moodily, glowering over at the zebra... and then he grimaced and reached up to touch his muzzle, mumbling: “Although I guess it don't really matter... but... the thought of eatin' this stuff that animaux have probably gone and peed all over... crawlin' with... bugs and disease and filth and...”

La Croix shivered and hugged himself, and Zecora sighed tiredly before shaking her head and muttering: “It pains me to have to offer you something so treasured... but I can give you a portion of a rare potion, carefully measured. It will restore your strength and wash away your pain... but I cannot stress enough this cannot be wasted in vain.”

The Loa huffed a bit, then asked moodily: “And the hell do you have that's so valuable, healer? I don't imagine no backwater like this has enough materials for you to make something worthwhile outta bayou fever and cocodril scratches... I bet it ain't much more than moonshine, right?”

“If that moon is Yemaya, and the beer is her tears; to brew this, I fear, it takes many years.” Zecora said stiffly, shaking her head shortly.

La Croix flinched back slightly before he scowled horribly, saying uneasily: “No way. You can't be that good. If you was that good, there ain't no reason you wouldn't be back in your own homeland...”

“It's because I'm 'this good' that I'm not: they asked me to travel across both cold and hot. I've seen arctic tundra, desert, and now this pony land... I've traveled for years, missing my home and my band.” Zecora said almost bitterly as she sat down, reaching back and digging in her satchel. “Isn't it funny, my strange Loa friend? We have much in common, in the end.”

The stallion scowled a little at this, and then he shook his head and muttered: “Not really, cher. You left on some weird pilgrimage around the world, while me... I be part of a band that left to form our own petite famille when Bondye saw the ol' ways splintering up.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Zecora pulled out a crystalline vial, looking down at it silently for a moment. It had a large, thick cap, and the contents almost shimmered: just from the sight of it, La Croix knew that the zebra wasn't lying, and it meant he really had underestimated her. Not that it meant he was going to treat her any better, though, of course, she sure as hell wasn't that impressive, but... well...

He shook his head quickly as Zecora calmly screwed off the cap, then carefully poured just a little bit of the glowing substance into this. Then she offered the capful of potion to La Croix, saying finally: “More than enough to heal your body and your aches, to restore your energy and health... for both of our sakes.”

La Croix grumbled, snatching the capful of potion away and quickly knocking it back... then he flinched ever-so-slightly at the feeling of it hitting his stomach like a wrecking ball, cursing under his breath and hugging himself for a moment. But soon enough, the healing effects overrode the pain, and he felt his strength returning, his hungers and tiredness both abating. “Yeah, that be some pretty strong moonshine. Still though... makes me feel... funny.”

Zecora frowned at him, but La Croix only grumbled and tossed the cap back to her, saying moodily: “Ain't nothing, mademoiselle vielle. Just... y'ever go to a family reunion, eat some gumbo, gobble some jambalaya, drink some punch... then you find the biggest, best damn cake y'ever did see, but when you bite into it...”

He rubbed at his face slowly, muttering: “Tastes like ashes. Goes down like a faut carot, still alive and kickin' hard the whole damn way, then hoppin' all 'round your belly when it does. And you realize the last time you tasted this was 'fore that feud your family had, that this is your mamare's special recipe... and you realize...”

La Croix halted, then cleared his throat before brushing quickly at his cape, saying rudely: “You realize your wastin' all your damn time. Come on, I got twenty-five days to figure this out. And at this rate it gonna take us a damn week to get back to wherever you play madame.”

Zecora sighed tiredly, rolling her eyes before she muttered: “It really must be impossible for you to be nice. What a charming compliment to your avarice.”

The Loa only sniffed loudly as Zecora calmly put the vial away, giving him a meditative look. La Croix didn't like it, but he kept himself looking as casual and disdainful as possible: it worked for the rich and famous, after all, so why shouldn't it work for him?

They continued into the Everfree Forest, and as they walked, La Croix looked warily back and forth at the foliage, the flora, the fauna, the... “Freaky. That's what this damn place is. 'Sdark in here, too. I don't like it.”

“You're acting like a pony. I knew your self-assuredness was phony.” Zecora said mildly, and La Croix scowled at her horribly before the mare added with only a slight smile: “It surprises me that you haven't commented on the smell... even to me, the reek here is a little like hell.”

La Croix only huffed at this, but his eyes flicked nervously back and forth as he looked back and forth: he saw old trees, an assortment of strange flowers, and there were thick puddles of mud here and there, but nothing he could imagine really reeked... yet all the same, he commented as naturally as he could: “Ain't nothing I haven't smelled before. You ain't been in the bayou. That reek don't smell nearly as bad compared to this.”

Zecora shrugged a bit, and then she gestured at one of the nearby flowers, saying mildly: “Well, if the stink grows too foul, just smell one of those blooms. Just be careful not to touch any of those mushrooms.”

The Loa grunted, then he hesitantly looked over at the flowers: they were bright, gorgeous colors, standing out clearly along the path. He licked his lips nervously as he felt strangely like Zecora was watching him, judging him, and then he suddenly halted before saying grumpily: “Well, fine. Since you seem so worried 'bout me and my oh-so-sensitive nez, I'll give it a try.”

La Croix reached out and carelessly plucked one of the flowers before shoving it in his face, sniffing loudly, and then he gave a theatrical sigh as he looked over at Zecora, remarking wryly: “There. Y'happy now? Oh, that just smells so much better!”

Zecora only winced and stepped backwards, inhaling sharply before holding her breath, and the Loa scowled at her. He failed to notice the fact that the blossom in his hoof had already wilted and rotted into an ugly brown and black mess, and his lack of taste or smell meant he couldn't sense the horrific reek already making Zecora's eyes water. “What? What are you...”

La Croix glanced down as he felt something wet on his hoof... and then he squealed and tossed the decaying plant away, waving his hoof wildly back and forth before he wiped hurriedly against the ground, cursing under his breath.

He began to glare at Zecora... then blinked in surprise as he saw she had fled a good distance away down the path. For a moment, the Loa considered pretending that the stink was just now getting to him, or trying to just casually pass it off... but then he gave up on both these ideas with a sigh, shaking his head and storming down the trail.

He stopped in front of her, glaring at her angrily... but all the anger in the world couldn't hide his worry, and his strange sense of... humiliation, as he growled: “There. I guess you know now, then. That's right, shaman. I don't got no sense of taste or smell. So from now on, I ain't gonna accept a damn thing from you lessen I see you makin' it with my own eyes, y'understand?”

Zecora only shook her head slowly at this, studying him silently before she said slowly: “When we first met, La Croix, you complained about taste... what has happened to put your senses to waste?”

La Croix huffed at this, figuring he could probably lie his way out of this mess easily enough... and then he stared in surprise when Zecora reached up and touched his shoulder, the healer saying quietly: “Loa of Darkwater, I beg of you... tell the truth. You don't seem to understand that for you, I am not without ruth.”

The Loa glared at her... then his eyes flicked away and he snorted, muttering: “Right. Like I'm gonna reveal all my secrets to you, priestess. Like I'm about to have some grande emotional breakdown or something. Y'ain't nothing to me but an annoying little chaoui, chasin' the shiny. I don't need your damn help, you the one so interested in this whole cycle business.”

“So stubborn, so rude... and so damaged inside. La Croix, in that cell, I might as well have let you bide.” Zecora said softly, and then she shook her head slowly and murmured, a compassion that was almost alien to La Croix filling her voice: “Look at you, La Croix, afraid of me... and yet I have made it clear I mean you nothing but solidarity.

“You're a prisoner of fear, La Croix.” Zecora finished, and then she simply smiled at him before turning and gesturing for him to follow.

La Croix looked after her... then blinked in surprise as he realized she hadn't rhymed, and his insides twisted as he bit his lip, shivering a little as he gazed uneasily after the mare before shaking his head shortly and quickly following her deeper into the forest.

How To Provoke A Lynch Mob

Chapter Four: How To Provoke A Lynch Mob
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix scowled horribly around Zecora's hut. Sure, everything was organized, there were potions and ingredients galore, and he saw plenty of useful protective charms and doodads but... everything was so damn primitive. “Hey, mademoiselle vielle. Is that ivory? I bet it would fetch a high price... you know, if it weren't illegal. But hey, who cares 'bout them damn horn-faces? They ain't nothing but big dumb brutes anyhow!”

Zecora sighed tiredly from outside, where she was preparing a pot of stew in a smaller firepit, and then she called moodily back: “The ivory you see was given freely. It was given while we performed their funeral rites, ideally.”

“Huh.” La Croix shoved himself away from the table, wooden chair screeching along the floor before he leaned back and poked absently at one of the masks on the wall, which looked suspiciously... happy. Not to mention a little bit malformed. “I don't like this one. This one be smilin' at me funny. I think he fou. Or at least faux.”

“My pony friends don't really understand the meaning of these masks... they made me one or two as gifts after helping them with a few odd tasks.” Zecora sounded the faintest bit awkward and defensive: it made La Croix grin as he easily lifted the imitation mask off the wall, realizing now why it was in such a weird place compared to the rest. “It... they meant their best by it, to be sure... I know their intentions really were pure...”

Zecora shook her head, then she muttered more to herself than La Croix, as she gave the stew a few last stirs: “Still, I wonder how they'd feel if I made a Celestia doll; one that resembled more a clown than her at all...”

The zebra healer sighed a little, then she carefully picked up the cauldron by its thick rope handle, carrying it around in a circle to bring it inside. She glanced over at La Croix as she stepped through the doorway... then stumbled to a stop before glaring at the Loa horribly. “Even if it's a bad imitation... that is still a rude degradation.”

“What?” La Croix asked innocently, the almost-smiling mask strapped over his face and the stallion sitting placidly with his hooves in his lap. “I ain't doin' nothing wrong, I swear. You don't wanna go celebratin' false idols and all that, right? Speakin' as a Loa myself, we don't like it when y'all go pretending some golden goose is as slick and fancy as we are.”

Zecora only shook her head moodily, then she walked over to the table and put the pot of stew on it before saying pointedly: “You'll have to take that off to eat. Now please just wait a moment in your seat.”

The mare turned away, and La Croix grumbled before pulling the mask off and quickly putting his hat back on his head, complaining: “Look, it's been three damn days. I don't like it here. I don't like you much, neither. Why do you think that if I set hoof in Ponyville, I gonna get flayed alive?”

“There's just something about your personality my friend, that makes others want to bring your life to a miserable end.” Zecora replied candidly, and La Croix grumbled under his breath before the zebra returned with a pair of wooden bowls and spoons.

She served them both, and then the two ate in silence: Zecora enjoyed the food, but La Croix only chewed despondently, hating that he couldn't taste it, he couldn't smell it, he couldn't even feel the texture. And he hated that he was so damn reliant on this annoying rhyming priestess as well: sure, originally, he'd been determined not to so much as breathe around anything she'd offered him.

Then he'd realized that he had no clue what the hell he could actually eat in this forest. And worse than that, he wouldn't be able to smell or taste if something was rotten, poisoned, overripe, or just plain gross.

So he had no real choice but to trust the priestess... then again, she was a priestess. He didn't know precisely a priestess of what, but he figured she wouldn't go trying to poison and kill him. He was both a guest and a spirit who was kind of distantly-related to the spirits she had contact with, so killing him would probably not reflect very nicely on her. Or so he hoped.

But she was letting him stay here, and her hut, while... primitive... was well-protected against the elements and, better yet, against supernatural intrusion. He had been able to actually sleep here, under the safety of the runes and the talismans and the dreamcatchers...

Hesitantly, La Croix's eyes flicked towards her, and Zecora gave him a curious look in return. But the Loa only shrugged a bit before he mumbled out: “Guess it's... edible tonight. Ain't crunching in my teeth like last night. Y'went a bit heavy on the beetles yesterday.”

“I tried not to use as many tonight. Mostly because watching you chew is a horrible sight.” Zecora replied equably, and then the mare sighed a little before asking finally: “Do you want to talk about... what I've figured out?”

La Croix snorted at this, then he poked moodily at his stew before muttering: “What's there even to talk about? I know what I gotta do, stop the tampering with the Great Balance. Which means I gotta deal with this Twilight Sparkle.”

Zecora sighed a little, saying with clear irritation: “Please try not to phrase it like that, she's not a rabbit for you to smother with your hat.”

The stallion huffed at this, raising his head and replying grouchily: “Hey, I gonna do what I gotta do, you hear me? If I gotta kill her, so be it. And you really gonna tell me that her life is more important than the cycle, mademoiselle vielle?”

Zecora bit the inside of her cheek, looking away, and La Croix nodded firmly... even as he felt some odd internal wobble at the look on the mare's face. So after a moment, he added finally: “But I guess that wouldn't really help a whole lot. Some other pony probably just pick up where she left off, stir up the swamp all over again. Damn ouaouarons.”

The priestess smiled over at him, nodding slowly in approval and agreement, and La Croix sighed before dropping his head sulkily, muttering: “I can't believe this, though. I wanted to avoid her and those other crazy ponies. They be dangereux.”

He looked moodily into his stew, stirring it slowly as he went over what Zecora had told him: that Princess Twilight Sparkle was conducting magic experiments at some place called Canterlot, trying to breach the space-time continuum to prove some theory about parallel worlds. Since Canterlot wasn't all that far away, and Twilight Sparkle apparently regularly spent her time here in Ponyville, La Croix was willing to bet that was what he was supposed to stop.

That, and if she ripped a hole in reality, she could let in... Bondye knew what. Or maybe the problem was Bondye didn't know what: imagine if instead of connecting to some parallel world, she instead tore a path to Heaven... or Helheim. Oh, the ponies thought Tartarus was bad, they thought ghosts and goblins were scary, they thought the stories of fire-and-brimstone Hell were bad... wait until they saw the place that crazy old Nanny Hel ruled over, then they'd know scary!

“Nanny Hel probably the one who tricked her into makin' this... came to her in a dream, made her demons whisper in her ear... I don't like that salope à sang-froid.” La Croix muttered, poking grumpily at his stew before he pushed the bowl away, grumbling: “I ain't hungry.”

“You are so, you're just upset... but come on, don't give up hope yet.” Zecora said quietly, and La Croix glowered at her. But the priestess was undeterred, adding in almost a gentle voice: “Isn't this all just a test? Are you really surprised you cannot rest?”

The stallion grumbled under his breath at this, and then he said sourly: “Look, priestess. You the one with the 'in' with the ponies. And now not even you can get a word in edgewise with this princess pony. So how the hell am I supposed to get to her in three weeks?”

“Three weeks is plenty of time for us to figure out a plan. And I'm sure Twilight will return to Ponyville for part of that span. We'll catch her when she's at home, don't fear that. Now come on, La Croix, don't look like a wet cat.” Zecora replied kindly.

La Croix, however, only scowled almost suspiciously at the zebra before he shook his head moodily. And as the night went on, his mood only deteriorated further, until he finally went to sleep.

Nightmares plagued him, something La Croix hadn't expected: but it wasn't Samedi and Cimetaire pulling the strings behind these bad dreams, but his own poisonous thoughts. And when morning came, he was tired and exhausted, and time felt like it was sand slipping through his hooves, impossible for him to catch, impossible for him to stop.

Zecora invited him to come pick herbs with her, but La Croix only shook his head vehemently and sulked. So she left him to pace around the hut, but La Croix barely noticed he was alone, and even paging through all of the priestess' things couldn't distract him from what was feeling more and more like his inevitable doom.

That afternoon, Zecora returned with her bags loaded down with herbs and ingredients, feeling relaxed... that was, until she opened the door and found that La Croix had almost worn a rut into the floors with his constant pacing. He had also overturned her cauldron, rearranged all the potions on the shelves, ruined her bed, and left several drawers of her dresser open, letting her know that he had clearly been rummaging through everything she had asked him not to. Oh, sure, she was used to him making a mess while she was gone, but this...

The mare took a slow breath... but in spite of her frustration, the first thing she asked was a surprisingly-calm question, out of genuine worry for him: “What's wrong, my strange friend? You look like you've seen your wit's end.”

“I have. Dammit, I have!” the Loa snapped, rounding suddenly on the mare, who blinked and reared back in surprise. “The hell am I doing here with you, chaoui? You enjoying this, keeping me here, cooped up in this damn mud-hut? You enjoying my pain, the thought that when our familles went their separate ways so long ago now, you stupid savages done kept your heads above the water while mine got drowned in the bayou?”

“La Croix, what are you-” Zecora began, but the stallion grabbed her cauldron and flung it backwards, cutting her off with a clang.

“Oh, ta gueule!” La Croix snapped, glaring at her furiously, shaking with childish anger and frustration and... yes, mental anguish, she thought. “Enough of your damn rhymes! Enough of your damn niceness! Y'ain't nothing but a con, a damn stupid chaoui out to steal all the damn glory for yourself! I been too damn nice-”

“You've been nice? You've been like ice!” Zecora snapped in response, cutting him off as she stepped forwards and gestured sharply around at her home. “La Croix, stop it and get yourself in check. I know you're frustrated but that's no reason to turn my home into a wreck!”

La Croix growled at this, then he turned and attempted to swipe one of the potions off the shelf, opening his mouth to shout something... but in his anger, he yanked too hard on a bottle lodged tightly into the rack, and instead he ended up jerking the entire shelf over, the Loa yelping as it smashed into him on the way down and knocked him rolling into the fire pit in the center of the hut.

The stallion twitched a bit on the ground, his hat rolling slowly past him as he lay in a senseless heap, while Zecora stared in horror at the destroyed shelf and its shattered contents, a foul-smelling pool of countless mixed potions and ingredients spreading slowly beneath the broken wooden rack.

La Croix awkwardly picked himself up, brushing himself off and picking up his hat to carefully settle back on his head. Then he looked lamely over at the broken shelf before giving a weak grin and turning his eyes towards Zecora as he said awkwardly: “Damn thing nearly cut my head. Guess then we would have really been havin' a tête à tête, non?”

The priestess slowly clenched her eyes shut, then she ground her teeth together painfully before stepping backwards and pointing angrily away from her house. La Croix stared at her, and then Zecora opened her eyes and growled: “Get. Out.”

“Hey, you didn't rhyme.” La Croix blurted in a surprised voice, and then he cowered when the priestess stomped on the ground, learning forwards and glaring furiously at him.

“I didn't rhyme, no! Now get out! Get out of my house, La Croix, get out of my life, and you can triumph or fail on your own terms, sordid little boy!” shouted the mare angrily, and La Croix tried to shrink his head between his shoulders like a turtle, whimpering beneath his hat. “Get out, out, out of my house, out of my life! I have given and given and given to you, Loa, to serve the cycle, to honor the spirits, to try and be a good person, but you are nothing more than an ignorant, thankless little child and it was stupid of me to expect you could be anything else! I will help you no more! Out!”

La Croix wanted to give some biting retort, some witty comeback, snap off something that would put this stupid mortal in her place... and then his lower lip trembled, and his chest tightened up, and all he could do was lower his head in shame, brim of his hat covering his eyes and his throat so dry and taut he didn't dare speak.

He silently strode past Zecora, who was fuming and furious and disappointed and he was so... he was so... he hurt, in an awful, awful way. He hadn't even felt this way when he'd been thrown out by Bondye and... that didn't make any goddamn sense, did it? Why the hell should he care what this priestess thought? She was just some stupid zebra that he shouldn't even have wasted his time with... who sullied him just by being near him...

Zecora stepped past and slammed her door, and La Croix looked silently over his shoulder, biting the inside of his cheek before he gritted his teeth and turned around. Something got in his eye: he didn't know what, but he didn't have the time to try and wipe it away, either, as his eyes watered before tears cascaded down his cheeks. As he stomped angrily away, he bit his lip, and didn't taste the blood that flowed into his mouth, any more than he felt the sting of pain from that or his bruised shoulder.

He stomped down the path Zecora had showed him, leading back to the village that Zecora had brought him to, when he'd first come into this world and Zecora had found him trying to climb a tree. He walked through Zecora's hoofsteps, smearing them, destroying them, but he knew that Zecora would walk this path again, he knew that this forest was more Zecora's than it would ever be the ponies, that Zecora Zecora Zecora-

La Croix clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head violently before he stopped to rub wildly at his eyes, then he spat a volley of curses before baring his teeth and stomping onwards. No, enough of her. He had wasted enough of his time here and it was time for him to move on.

The Loa stomped down the path, tears drying on his face, hat casting a dark shadow over his eyes as his cape fluttered out behind him. He knew what he would do: he would head to Ponyville, and he would demand to see that princess that apparently wasted all her time in that little neck of the bayou. Then he would use every trick he had to get what he wanted: a little audience with a Princess.

After that, he'd do whatever the hell he had to do to stop her from screwing up his life anymore than she already had. Because if it wasn't because of Princess Twilight Goddamn Sparkle and her stupid friends, he wouldn't be here in the first place.

La Croix reached Ponyville late in the afternoon, having stopped only long enough to pick a few weeds he'd recognized and mix himself up a few things he was rather sure she wouldn't approve of. She being a certain zebra he was refusing to acknowledge whatsoever because she had overreacted to an honest mistake and... that was pointless to think about. She was gone. That was that.

The zebra scowled and shook his head quickly as he walked down the town's dusty streets, brushing off the ponies that tried to greet him or approach him as he headed straight for the library. He had a goal in mind, and he was going to get this over and done with, and then Bondye was going to be happy and this was all going to be over and he would never, ever leave Darkwater, ever again.

He nodded firmly to himself, then halted in the square outside the library, cursing under his breath. He could tell it was empty, even without knocking... but all the same, he walked up to the front door and then hammered viciously on it, shouting: “Hey, I got a bone to pick with you, princesse de magie! Come on out here, viens vite!”

There was only silence, and La Croix growled before spinning around... and he grinned icily when he saw he already had an audience, raising his head high as his eyes all-but-glowed, frustrated and maddened and malicious as he snapped: “Good, y'all already here! I might as well go ahead and say what I have to say, then.

“First of all, y'all are stupid!” La Croix snapped, and several ponies gasped in shock. They all stared with something like horror, and more were gathering, looking at him like he was some kind of terrible monster as he continued angrily: “Yeah, you're a whole race of connards! 'Cept that's insulting to connards, with how stupid y'all are!

“Second, I hate each and every single one of you.” La Croix continued in a frustrated voice, then he pointed at a yellow Pegasus in front, the mare whimpering and meekly trying to hide behind her pink mane. “You! Yeah, you! I hate you!”

“I'm sorry.” mumbled the Pegasus, shrinking slowly down until she was almost laying on her stomach, trembling. “I... I don't want... I mean... I don't know but... oh, I'm sorry...”

“Oh, sorry, are you, darlin'?” La Croix asked in a falsely-sweet voice, and the Pegasus nodded a few times, looking up at him almost tearfully before she squeaked when the zebra leapt forwards and almost shoved his face into hers, shouting: “Well, now I hate you even more, you lâche!”

The mare whimpered, and then another pony snapped: “Hey, you can't talk to her like that!”

“Then I talk to you like that!” La Croix retorted sharply, turning towards the orange earth pony that had spoken and making her wince back in surprise as he shoved his face into hers. “Look at you, hayseed, you ain't just dumb, you ugly too! And you ain't doin' no one no favors by wearin' that hat around and showin' off how proud you is of bein' a hick even by this here Hicksville's standards!”

There were more shouts and yells, and then La Croix turned around with a sneer: unseen to any of the ponies, in spite of the fact they were glaring at him, he reached into his cape and calmly pulled out what looked like a wallet of leaves. “Yeah, yeah, boo-hoo-hoo, y'all go ahead and cry. But y'ain't gonna do a damn thing, you gonna sit there, shut up, and do what I say!”

Ponies shouted, and a few even stepped forwards... and then La Croix slammed his hoof down, and there was a burst of smoke and light and a roar like thunder. And immediately, the ponies fell all over each other in terror as La Croix stepped forwards to hide the ashy remains of his trickery.

La Croix grinned widely as black and purple smog rose slowly around him, his eyes all but glowing as the ponies stared at the zebra with horror. And then he spoke again, drawing their attention to his face while his other hoof slipped up, taking a much smaller, folded leaf out of his cape. “You listen to me, and y'all listen good. I be a Loa... any of y'all know what that is?”

He saw terror written across the faces of the imbecile ponies, he saw that they were barely able to process what had just happened, let alone what he had said, so La Croix chuckled and exaggerated: “It means I be a spirit du mort! That's right, I dabble in souls, I bring life... I bring death!”

La Croix accented the last by stomping down, sending out a loud whipcrack of sound: it lacked the smoke and sparks, but it was more than enough to make the ponies jump and clutch at each other in terror. Some hit the ground, others reared back, and all of them were nothing but putty in his capable hooves, ready to gobble down any of the mush he spoon-fed them.

And La Croix reveled in it, grinning widely before he laughed again as he spun around, making a wide gesture outwards with one hoof... while the other snuck under his cape, palming another trap out as he said coldly: “Now, y'all listen here to me. I need to have a little word with a certain Twilight Sparkle, and I figure at least one of y'all must have a way to contact her. And if y'all don't contact her, I'm gonna burn down your entire village. I'm gonna stuff your kids like dindons and marinate the rest of you like porc! I'm gonna cut y'all up and throw you in my gumbo!”

The zebra spun back towards them, and the ponies scampered in every direction to get away from him... but they didn't stray too far, oh no. They were as enthralled with him as they were scared, like animals caught in the headlamp of an oncoming train. They were helpless, and he gloried in that taste of his old, lost power.

He saw them, terrified, and he grinned as he stomped forwards again, setting off another bang and a faint flare of light as several sparks flew. They yelled and panicked, and he laughed loudly at them, leaning forwards and shouting: “That's right! You bow to me, bow before me!”

La Croix laughed again, sweeping his forelegs up through his cape, feeling vindictive joy as the ignorant masses cowered before him... and yet part of him was still hurting. He still felt like there was a hook in his heart, yanking and pulling in every direction, and the Loa swore under his breath before he gritted his teeth, raising his head and shouting as he dropped both hooves down in front of himself: “Alright, listen up!”

They all looked up at him, fearful, ready to do anything he said without any further encouragement, and La Croix glared balefully out over the crowd, suddenly... disappointed. Here he was, bullying simple-minded pony-folk who would probably believe him if he pretended to pull their noses off their faces. What pride was there to be had in that? He was supposed to be a master of deception, a Loa messenger who carried spirits and twisted the wishes of kings and devils, not... not some street charlatan trying to cheat enough coins for a decent meal!

He glared at them angrily, frustrated that they couldn't even offer a decent distraction. Their fault, not his: he couldn't control the fact he was so damn good at this little game. It wasn't his fault that... things happened that he couldn't control, that he happened to push a little too hard here or there and something bad happened and...

The Loa shook his head vehemently, then he swore under his breath as he looked out over the ponies. Yeah, they were boring him now... and if he didn't send them off soon, they'd ask questions, anyway. But... hell, why not try to give himself one last smile?

La Croix rose both his hooves high, slipping two more of the leaf-wrapped bundles out of his cape as he did so. He rose them to the sky, but he knew the ponies couldn't see the little explosives from where they were all cowering before him. Not with how panicked they were, not with how in control he was. And the zebra grinned to himself as he looked up towards the sky, thundering out: “I'm here to find a certain pony... and all y'all gonna find her for me, or I'm gonna call down the tonnerre!”

He stomped both hooves savagely down, and there was a double-boom as the miniature explosives went off... but this time, La Croix yelped as one seared his foreleg with an unexpected flash of sparks, the stallion rearing dumbly back in surprise and looking down at his singed hoof before he waggled it dumbly back and forth.

He scowled a bit, then glared up over the ponies, raising his other hoof quickly, trying to pose as if he was about to weave some dark and dangerous magic. The ponies were still staring at him, but they seemed less frightened now, and more stunned, and La Croix cursed before he waggled his hooves and snapped: “Y'all better show me a bit more respect, or... or...”

La Croix scowled a bit as he felt a strange, growing heat, and then he blinked before looking down in horror as he saw the edge of his cape had caught on fire. He screeched and immediately began to stomp wildly on the hem, but then he manage to tangle his limbs in the fabric, not only ripping it but sending himself flopping to the ground on top of the burning cape.

He squawked and rolled back and forth, flailing wildly and sending burnt tatters of his torn clothing in all directions as he suffocated the flames more by accident than anything else. Then he fell still, breathing hard and staring up at the sky miserably, wondering what the hell else could go wrong.

There was a popping sound, and La Croix yelped as several objects shot out of an inner pocket of his cape and flew into the air. La Croix had a moment to stare in horror up at this, mouthing slowly... and then he covered his face with a squawk as all variety of other objects shot up towards the sky, seeming to appear out of nowhere as they were ejected from his enchanted cape. Glass vials, metal tools, and various salves and potions and powders and several more of his flash bombs all vomited up above him... and then fell back in a hail over his body and crashed to the ground around him.

Several of the leafy bundles exploded as heavier things landed on them, while others just bounced across the ground: but the flashes and claps of thunder distracted La Croix much less than the flasks and grindstones and various other trinkets did as they fell in a hard rain over his body. All he could do was curl up and swear loudly until the hail ended.

Finally, after a few moments where nothing else fell on him, La Croix awkwardly sat up with his torn cape hanging loosely from his neck by a broken buckle, his hat lopsided on his head. He grimaced a bit... then stared as a pony slowly stepped forwards and carefully picked up one of his bombs, studying it intently.

Then the eyes of the ponies slowly turned back towards him, and La Croix paled a bit even as he gave a weak grin, raising his hooves as he saw their gazes hardening, as they realized he was a trickster, a charlatan, a fraud... “F-Friends! Mes amis! I... I can explain!”

The ponies traded looks between themselves as the mob slowly converged forwards, becoming like one large, living entity, and La Croix scrambled backwards to his hooves, wincing as he tripped over his fallen trinkets, hooves flinching as he staggered through broken glass and scattered ingredients, the zebra giggling shrilly as he looked back and forth and said almost desperately: “Hey, I ever tell y'all how much I like your village? And... hey, I'm... still looking for that princess! But... but more of a friendly suggestion, that was all more of a friendly suggestion, I was just pulling a little prank, having a little bit of fun... hey, laissez les bon temps rouler, am I right?”

La Croix stumbled a bit and almost fell over, tossing a look over his shoulder and trembling at the sight of the locked door of the library. Nowhere to go there... and now the mob of ponies was advancing. And there were very few stunned or scared ponies now... now he saw angry ponies, glaring ponies, furious ponies...

“Hey, that's right! He wanted to hurt Twilight!” shouted a voice from the crowd, and La Croix gave a strangled laugh as he shook his head violently, hurriedly raising his front hooves and waving them wildly back and forth.

“N-No, no! I just wanted to talk to her, honest! I... y'all promised you'd help me find her already, remember that? Can't break a promise now...” La Croix's eyes darted back and forth as cold sweat rolled down his face, and then he gritted his teeth before raising a hoof and shouting, fueled by desperation more than any real anger he could dredge up: “Hey, you better listen to me or I swear that I'll be callin' up some zombies to-”

A rock smacked into La Croix's skull, knocking him crosseyed as his head swayed to the side with a squeak, and then he hurriedly reached up and caught his hat, yanking it back onto his head before it could topple away. But even if he managed to hold onto his hat – hell, even if he managed to dig anything useful out of his damn hat – there was no way he was getting away from all these crazy, angry ponies.

Someone shouted at him: it was less words, more just raw anger. And another pony shouted. And soon, the whole mob was yelling at him as they advanced more brazenly, stomping his trinkets, crushing all the herbs and plants that he'd harvested or 'borrowed' from... that zebra. And oh, hell, was he really wishing for her of all the goddamn zebras in the world right now? Was he really so pathetic his last thoughts...

No, no, dammit, no, he wasn't thinking his last thoughts yet! He'd gotten out of worse than this before and he was going to get out of this, too, with a little smooth thinking, as he looked wildly back and forth before his eyes widened and he pointed sharply to the left.

“What the hell is that?” he shouted in disbelief, and almost the entire mob of ponies turned to look in the direction the zebra had pointed. There was nothing there, though... and when the group of ponies looked back, the zebra was gone.

Then a voice shouted from the crowd, and hooves pointed wildly at the zebra, who was fleeing as fast as he possibly could, his eyes wide with terror as he bolted down the street. The mob roared, then Pegasi leapt to the air and the earthbound ponies almost trampled each other as they charged after the fleeing zebra.

La Croix ducked down an alley, but some annoying Pegasus above zipped past in a streak of colors and shouted out his location, the zebra swearing almost non-stop as he immediately turned a corner and attempted to get out of sight. But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and La Croix knew that the moment these ponies got their hooves on him they were going to put him into a world of hurt. And whether they killed him or just beat him to a pulp, it wouldn't matter.

There was no way they were going to let him near their princess now. There was no way he was going to get near Canterlot, unless they decided to drag his carcass there after they finished making him into catfish slaw.

He bolted around a corner, continuing to swear loudly the entire time before he squeaked and ducked when a Pegasus dove at him. Then a second shot down and kicked him hard in the rump, knocking him sprawling out of the alley and onto a dirt road, and La Croix cursed before scrambling to his hooves and bolting for it, just before several more Pegasi shot down to yell and curse at him.

He was lucky they weren't more organized: if they had been, there was no doubt he would have been easily snatched up by them and quickly beaten to a pulp. The zebra shot a fearful look over his shoulder, staggering only a little before he looked ahead and put all his effort into sprinting as hard and fast as he could, yelling one last ragged curse before he skidded around a corner and onto another wide street.

Several Pegasi were flying close behind him, while he could hear the other ponies yelling and shouting as they charged en masse after him. And he was becoming very quickly aware of the other constraints of this mortal form, like how he was getting sore and tired, how he could feel these weak muscles in this weak mortal body already starting to give out...

He gritted his teeth, stumbling even as he ran as fast and hard as he could, but try as he might, he was flagging and gasping for breath, his lungs aching, his body pulsing, his eye twitching as he spat swears and felt a weird rubbery sensation he'd never felt before spreading rapidly through his body.

La Croix yelped as he almost fell forwards, then he looked quickly to the side before baring his teeth and flinging himself forwards with a gasp to narrowly avoid being tackled by a Pegasus. But he lost his footing, hitting the ground on his face and skidding painfully forwards before barely managing to scramble back to his hooves.

He gasped hard as he bolted onwards, looking wildly back and forth before his maddened eyes caught sight of what he thought might actually be a way out, giving a muffled laugh around the brim of his hat before he shot down the road towards what looked like emptiness and freedom... and then a Pegasus crashed down into the center of his back, driving him flat into the ground and sending him skidding painfully over the earth on his stomach with a whimper.

The Pegasus snarled down at him, shoving him down and pinning him painfully before the pony yelled: “Hey, everypony! He's here! I got him right-”

La Croix reacted out of desperation and instinct, spitting his hat into one hoof and digging wildly in it before he flung the first thing he grabbed back over his shoulder. The flask struck the Pegasus squarely in the face, shattering in a burst of purple liquid and sending the pony flopping off his back with a howl of pain before the zebra leapt hurriedly to his hooves, chomping down on the brim of his hat before he bolted away with a squeal of fear.

But the short delay had allowed the ponies to get him in their sights again: both those above and those over the ground were rushing towards him, and the yelling and screaming of the Pegasus was only inciting their anger all the further. And it terrified him, how frenzied they were getting, how they seemed to be completely tireless in their pursuit while he was whimpering in agony, trying his hardest to keep himself running for the... for the...

La Croix gave a wordless, wounded scream as he saw a narrow ravine ahead, killing his hope of escape. It was probably a narrow enough gap that most ponies could jump across it, but he was so weak and tired he would have to use the bridge... except the goddamn bridge was out, little of it left aside from a pile of wooden slats off to one side and a bit of torn rope.

The zebra skidded to a halt in front of this, then he looked desperately back over his shoulder before turning back towards the ruined bridge. He gritted his teeth, trembling and leaning forwards, trying to make himself take that leap... but his body refused to move, his mind was suddenly seized by fear, his eyes bulging and even the knowledge that there was that furious mob behind him, storming towards him, wanting to hurt him and mangle him and ruin him...

He looked over his shoulder, terrified, seeing the surging crowd of ponies drawing closer and the Pegasus shooting down from the sky towards him like meteors, like feathered devils here to snatch him up and give him a prelude to the hell he knew he was never going to escape because... because... because...

Tears of terror and despair ran down La Croix's face before he screamed as one of the Pegasi dove in, barely ducking under the pony. And when he managed to straighten and look up again, he saw not a horde of angry ponies charging at him, a crowd he could outrun and outsmart and escape, but a surging wave of imps and goblins and monsters eager to tear him apart...

La Croix had never felt terror like this before: he stared at the oncoming rush, his eyes wide with horror, his mouth gaping, his body shivering violently. He felt warmth spreading down his leg but didn't realize he'd pissed himself in terror; he couldn't feel it, any more than he felt the aches in his shoulders, the clenching of his stomach, the burning of his lungs. He only felt terror: stark and all-engulfing and endless terror, before he spun around and howled: “No, no, no!”

It was more by accident than anything else that he staggered forwards, falling more than leaping off the edge of the ravine and into the river. And while it was narrow, the current was strong enough to carry La Croix along, the stallion gasping as he clawed wildly at his hat before his eyes widened in horror as he sank beneath the current, flailing wildly but realizing too late that he had no idea how to swim.

He was dragged under the water, coughing and choking, clutching his hat to his chest as his torn cape wrapped around him, snaring his body like a net. He struggled miserably, flailing one limb out and kicking his legs uselessly through the water, but all he managed to do was spin his body uselessly through the river as he swore... then choked as water rushed into his jaws, the river almost seeming eager to drown him as he shook his head back and forth, staring sightlessly as he screamed helplessly beneath the waves...

And then La Croix landed with a flop on the cold mud, shivering violently before he dug his hooves into the muck as he gave a low, wretched moan. He looked back and forth weakly, then laughed faintly as he saw both Cimetaire and Samedi appear in short gasps of green fire, the zebra asking despondently after only a moment: “So this this how it ends?”

His Loa brothers traded looks, then they both shrugged silently before Samedi said softly: “I dunno, mon frère. You ain't in a good place. I won't lie to you, La Croix... it's gonna take a miracle to save you this time. Why did you do it?”

“I... I didn't...” La Croix trembled, hugging himself tightly before he clenched his eyes shut. “I didn't mean to...”

Cimetaire laughed dryly at this, before he asked in a voice that was almost... disappointed... “You didn't mean to? What y'mean by that, La Croix? You didn't mean to piss 'em all off or you didn't mean to get caught? Or you didn't mean to take a dive into the rivière?”

“It was more of a crique, really, just had a little more muscle than usual because of the spring flooding. But I suppose if you can't swim and no one wants to jump in to get you, it don't matter if it's grande or petite... drowned is drowned.” Samedi added meditatively, and then he sighed a little as he looked over at La Croix, adding wryly: “Not a great way to go out though, mon frère. No dignity in it. You didn't stand your ground. You didn't learn.”

“I... I don't know what I did.” La Croix whispered, shaking his head briefly before he looked down, laughing weakly as he stared at the muddy, fertile earth. “I fell. Was my own damn fault, too. This whole time... everything's been my own damn fault, hasn't it? Oui, je suis un connard. And... je suis... fini. Ain't nothing going to save me now. Ain't no one gonna save me now... why would they?”

There was silence for a few moments, and then Cimetaire said softly: “Hey, frère, don't be like that. Ain't the way to go down, is it? You still gotta have some style. You still should show a little bit of class. You still a Loa, right?”

“I dunno. I don't feel like no Loa.” La Croix muttered, then he looked up, turning his eyes back and forth as he saw the trees around their little field rustling, as he heard something breathing through the branches; not wind, but something larger. Something much more frightening. Something cold, and terrible... “They be comin' for me, don't they? The hounds be on my trail already...”

“You know they're greedy.” Samedi said quietly, and then he flicked out his hoof and a green bonfire burst into life in the center of the field, the best-dressed of the three saying calmly: “Come now, all y'all. Huddle in close by the fire. We'll keep your lights burning a little bit longer, La Croix. You still our petit frère, after all.”

La Croix laughed weakly, then he shook his head slowly before dragging himself towards the emerald frame. Every step he took made reality around him vibrate, though: every step was a hard slog that reminded him he was surrounded by water back in reality, his lungs burning with pain, his muscles trembling as if he was fighting to drag twice his weight under ten times as much pressure, his whole body lighting up with a desire to simply surrender and stop, to sit still and just... wait.

But all the same, he forced himself towards the green flames, for once in his life not complaining even as he coughed out water, for once not asking for help... for once, fighting this battle on his own, as his whole body shook, and Cimetaire and Samedi waited for him patiently on either side of the green flames. And he did his best not to look back even as ice spread rapidly through the ground beneath him, as the trees turned to brittle, frozen sticks, as the growls of the demons that wanted to drag him down into the eternal ice of Helheim filled the air...

La Croix came to a halt in front of the green fire, gasping for breath and trembling as he barely managed to stop himself from falling forwards into the eldritch flames. His body quivered as he looked over his shoulder... then he laughed weakly at the sight of the coating of frost now covering the swampy floor behind him, ending only a few inches away from his tail. “They... they ain't got me yet.”

“No, they ain't.” Samedi said softly, and then he shook his head slowly as Cimetaire scowled... but then gave the smallest nod, sighing and looking moodily away. “Close your eyes, La Croix. Rest some. The demons ain't gonna take you yet.”

The waterlogged Loa looked weakly up, coughing a few times... and then he closed his eyes and bowed his head forwards, legs trembling beneath him before they gave out and he collapsed to the ground. He hit with a thud as the world around him went cold, the stallion coughing and choking before his eyes fluttered weakly open...

He felt wet, and cold, and he saw greens and blacks... and a single, ghostly shape standing over him, nothing but blurs and shadows. He tried to speak, tried to whisper something, anything... but a moment later, he was back in darkness, descending into dreamless emptiness where he floated alone, waiting to die. Waiting for the demons to come.

Waiting to pay the price for his sins.

Black Stripe Messiah

Chapter Five: Black Stripe Messiah
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix was in misery, rolling back and forth as he moaned low in his throat, his body quaking with pain and fever. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know what was going on... hell, he wasn't even entirely sure he was alive. Maybe this was some prelude to Hell... it sure felt like it, after all.

His mind rampaged, dragging him back, back into the past, making him relive all the memories he didn't want to. He remembered things he'd wanted to forget; he forgot the outcome of every stupid scheme, every bet and gamble until he was living through the events all over again.

Again and again, he played out his entire life in the blink of a moment... and oh, it hurt. Only at the end did he realize where he was, delirious and in some space between spaces full of shapes and blurs and sounds. He clung to it when it came, fighting to try and make sense of the figure that kept coming and going, applying cold compresses to his forehead and giving him little sips of water...

But as hard as he clung to lucidity, in spite of how savagely he fought to try and get to the surface of his own mind, his own thoughts, he'd only manage to float there for a few moments before being dragged back down into the abyss to relive it all over again.

From the end, back to the beginning: he climbed out of the black lake with his brothers at Bondye's command, long long ago, and vowed to serve him. But back then, Bondye had been just one of many, and they had all looked up to some great and overpowering presence.

And there had been many other spirits, many others like them, and they hadn't worn any fancy clothes to mark their status or privilege. There had been no need for that: they had all been part of one unit, one family, one great spiritual commune that shared knowledge and worked together for one end. And not only did they work with each other, but they helped the zebra who prayed to them as well, without twisting their deals or demanding a high price in return.

There was still a hierarchy, certainly: there were the spirits, like him, and there were the big boys, the Orisihas like Bondye, and then there was the one who guided them all. The top brass, the big boss, the One Above, who looked down over all of them and all of what he considered to be his creation. But he was never a cruel king, never cold, never apart: one could say, in fact, that he'd loved those who looked up to him too much.

At first, sure, it had all gone well. Everything and everyone worked together, keeping the balance. It worked so well that the One Above decided to allow his Orishas to maintain control of the world for sixteen days, while he had a well-deserved rest.

But then the Orishas began to squabble, and some mischievous spirits carried word of their struggle down to the zebra. The zebra began to take sides, and soon enough, factions broke off. The zebra began to kill and hurt each other, even when the Orishas stopped fighting... not that all of them did, anyway. Some still had to prove they were stronger, or faster, or better. And the One Above didn't learn about what was going on until a week had passed and he came back to find out where this negative energy he'd felt was coming from.

He had been so... disappointed. He had been so upset, to see the zebra warring with each other, and his Orishas throwing blame back and forth, but all of them wearing their guilt in their bruises and their wounds.

The One Above had set things as right as he could... but oh, it was too late. The tribes and people he'd worked so hard to protect and nurture were splintered, and some of his Orishas were demanding they be treated as gods themselves: that they be held equal to the One Above. And in his wisdom, the One Above had not reacted with anger, but with great sorrow, even as he told them they were free to leave if they want, to create their own pantheons and leave the Origin behind.

Bondye had been one of the Orishas to leave and take on the title of god: he was aloof and disinterested in the zebra people, but he had his Loa and other servants weave his stories and do his bidding for him. Bondye was not interested in the zebras, but in proving to the One Above that he was an equal god, of equal respect... leaving no small irony in the fact that Bondye still kept most of his business in Darkwater, a place for the dead to sleep created long ago by the One Above.

La Croix remembered... he remembered Bondye's new rules, how they were going to give help... but now, never without taking something in return. They were going to preserve the balance at all costs, but in all things, too: not just the cycle of life and death, but with every deal they made, every favor they gave... everything would be repaid, in full and in blood, if necessary. No more sugarcoating, no more freebies. The scales would always be balanced from now on... or at the worst, tipped more in their favor than whoever tried to deal with them.

And as the centuries passed, their culture separated almost completely from that of their ancestors: they showed their status by the fine clothes they wore, they realized that smooth talk and sleight of hoof could be just as effective in getting someone's attention as any show of magic, and they began to tamper with the very thing they were supposed to protect. Not because there was anything wrong, but because you had to spend money to make money. A little distortion here and there... a little hampering their own cause... and even more would be drawn in to their growing web...

It was all about the numbers, at the end of the day: they needed believers, preachers, zealots. Not that Bondye wanted anything to do with them or really cared about them: luring them in, all the hard work and heavy lifting, he left to his Loas and the other spirits. Those who, on rare occasion, pleased him enough to draw his attention were rewarded with a bit more status...

La Croix had been so delighted when he had been the first Loa to earn his marks of status: his treasured hat and cape, for his help in not only ensuring the zebras carried this growing religion to a new land, they began to share and spread it among its inhabitants: ponies. It never did quite take with the ponies, but that didn't matter. The dreams and nightmares La Croix weaved helped establish their little sect, which the ponies called 'voodoo' without ever really understanding what that word meant. But that in itself was another discovery they were able to use to their advantage: mystery and allure and not-quite-right names and terms made their charm all the stronger.

Unfortunately, that was the end of the good times, right there... not that it had really been good times to begin with. Everyone had been scared in those beginning days, working as hard as they could not because they believed in Bondye's campaign, but because they were terrified that the One Above would never take them back, and if they failed to establish themselves, they'd become nothing but faded memories.

What La Croix failed to realize, though, was that he wasn't being rewarded simply because of his spectacularly good deed. What he would realize only later was that he had been the first to be given anything by Bondye, because he was the absolute worst Loa present. He shirked his duties, played pranks and wasted time, and generally made a nuisance of himself instead of doing what he was expected to or supposed to. He whined when the job was too hard and tried to pass off his duties to anyone else he could, and he thought that he was damn well entitled to a respectable living just because he happened to be a Loa.

Everyone disliked him to begin with. And, when he won the day through laziness and cheating and luck more than his own efforts, when he was so richly rewarded by Bondye... dislike boiled over into hate for many of the spirits, and suddenly everyone was determined to make sure that La Croix never again earned a single favor from Bondye. None of them, ever again, wanted to be humiliated by having a failure like La Croix held up in their place, declared as their better.

La Croix never earned another reward. His so-called brothers, Cimetaire and Samedi, on the other hoof, both continued to ascend the ladder, often taking on La Croix's duties as they earned more status, became better known by Bondye and those who served him... as did every single other spirit of this great pantheon. Few fell so low as La Croix, and those who did often vanished entirely in shame: and La Croix was left at the back of the pack, scrabbling wildly after any chance to do something that would get him noticed... so long as he didn't have to work too hard, that was.

And eventually... he had been the fool selected to act as an 'ambassador' with Helheim. Oh, sure, it made him sound important. It gave him a bit more status, let him hold his head high in this changing world... but oh, he had been so stupid. There was a reason it had been offered to someone as expendable as him, and La Croix whimpered and waved his hooves weakly through the air, gasping out through the delirium mixing past and present together: “N-No! I ain't... s-she promised, I did... what you told me! Don't send me back, d-don't send me back!”

He whimpered as the memories merged into one terrible mass in his mind, panting and shaking his head back and forth in denial, eyes rolling in his head as he remembered how he'd thought he'd been doing so good, the voice of his people, helping unite against a common enemy! He'd made himself look so strong, so smart, but Nanny Hel had seen right through him and those three had twisted him right upside down and oh, oh, what an idiot he'd looked like...

La Croix felt something soothing gently stroke over his brow, something wet and cool; a balm. His eyes fluttered as he whimpered, struggling to open his eyes to reality instead of drowning in the past. He shivered and struggled, cursing under his breath as he trembled and threw everything he had into just waking up, not caring if he lived or died but wanting to see who the hell had thought he was worth saving-

It was her. He saw her, for a single moment, before he slumped backwards and blacked out.

When La Croix opened his eyes again, he was in a familiar little hut, his eyes gradually adjusting as something wet dripped down his face. His throat felt dry, and his eyes felt watery, and his skin felt like it was on fire. Why the hell his body was being such a salop he wasn't sure, but it probably had something to do with how much the entire universe was tilted against him.

He groaned weakly, then shook his head quickly before sighing softly as his eyes drew slowly towards he figure getting up from the table, the stallion muttering: “Guess this makes you my ange gardien, don't it, cher?”

Zecora only gave him a faint smile, shaking her head slowly and saying softly: “La Croix, you have a talent for making me mad. But the loss of a life, even yours, would be sad.”

La Croix chuckled dryly at this, and then he shook his head weakly before trying to sit up... but he only groaned in pain, dropping back and cursing under his breath, agony like he'd never experienced before wracking his entire body.

He flopped back on the bed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes and... dammit. There she was, once again sticking her neck out for him, this time saving him from certain death after... after... damn. “Why? I ain't no zebra, not really... I ain't your ancestor. I ain't even a Loa anymore... just some flesh-sack, that's all.”

But Zecora only shook her head slowly, walking over to him and gently adjusting the cloth on his forehead before she said softly: “Don't talk like that, Loa of Darkwater. You'll only make the water you're in burn all the hotter.”

“I ain't... I can't do it, priestess. I can't do this. I'm too weak.” La Croix whispered, closing his eyes and trembling a little, but he couldn't even raise his hooves to hide his face, to hide his shame, turning away as best he could as he whispered: “I'm out of time.”

“That's not true at all, La Croix. You still have a week to fix this flaw.” Zecora urged, shaking her head again. La Croix only clenched his eyes shut, though, and the zebra sighed before she said in a softer voice: “Take tonight, rest and get well. Wait until tomorrow before you resign yourself to hell.”

The stallion only looked miserably down, but then he forced himself to nod a little, if only to make Zecora happy. Because he knew he owed her that much, at least... he just didn't know why she gave a damn about him. Especially after...

“Cher... I'm sorry. For... you know. For everything. I ain't been the best guest y'ever had, I'm thinking.” La Croix said quietly, and Zecora only smiled at him again and gave a slow shrug.

“You'd be surprised to learn what I put up with... all the broken furnishings I've fixed, you'd think I'm a smith.” Zecora laughed a little, gesturing towards her table with one hoof.

“You... cheated. Even I know y'call a guy who works with a wood a... charpentier...” La Croix mumbled, his eyes fluttering once... and then they slowly closed, and Zecora sighed softly again as she looked down at him, beginning to step away... but to her surprise, he stirred and whispered: “Don't go. Please don't leave me... alone...”

Zecora looked down at him silently, and then she gave a faint smile before shaking her head slowly once more and murmuring: “One day, La Croix, you know we'll have to part ways... but... for now, I suppose, at your side I can stay.” She smiled briefly. “Or rather, stays.”

La Croix gave a weak chuckle, trying to open his eyes, but Zecora only reached out and gently covered his face with her hoof, murmuring softly: “Don't hurt yourself now, my friend. Just be at peace. For now, all we have to do is get you on the mend.”

The stallion slowly settled, and in only a few minutes, he was asleep again. His slumber was deep and dark and dreamless, letting him escape from everything for a few hours... and when he awoke, the first thing he saw was Zecora, now seated beside him in a chair, calmly mending an old, well-worn traveler's cloak.

“I was starting to get worried about you... a few minutes more, I would have eaten your stew.” Zecora said with a slight smile, and La Croix gave a weak chuckle before she said softly: “It's important we get something in your tummy. So I hope that you'll find this stew yummy.”

“I can't taste nothing, remember? Or are you just cheatin' again?” La Croix asked moodily, giving a brief shake of his head before he took a slow breath and carefully sat up, ignoring Zecora as she chastened him even while excusing herself. He was surprised to find that it was a lot easier than it had been before he'd slept, but... the body didn't heal that fast, did it? Or were these mortals really more durable than he'd ever expected them to be...

La Croix looked meditatively down at one hoof for a few moments, and then he shook his head briefly before glancing up as Zecora came back, carrying a small tray with a cup of tea and a bowl of some kind of stew. She gently set this down beside him, then said softly: “Rest back in bed. You must still feel next to dead.”

“I feel pretty damn good right now, as a matter of fact, cher. Don't you worry none about me.” La Croix replied mildly, shaking his head quickly... but then grumbling and not fighting when Zecora gently pushed him back against the pillows, propping him up against them. “You're a pain in my derrière, mademoiselle vielle.”

“I can't say I'm not glad to hear it. You need someone to keep you in check, spirit.” Zecora said mildly, and La Croix scowled at her, opening his mouth to say something... and the zebra priestess simply shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth, almost making him choke before she continued with the slightest smile: “Just try and relax for now, Cycle defender. And maybe tell me what you might remember?”

La Croix grumbled around the spoon in his mouth, and then he gave her a sour look when she drew it back before he gave the briefest nod, muttering: “Well... I guess I... I owe you that much, at least. Okay. I'll give it a whirl. Try and be more... talky.”

He fell silent for the moment, but accepted another spoonful of stew as he gathered his thoughts. Then he sighed softly, saying finally: “I fell into the river. I drowned... and... I saw mes amis. My brothers... my fellow Loa. I thought I was dead... hell, maybe I was. The demons, they came for me too... I remember the ice, spreadin' towards me, I thought it was gonna claim me...”

“I saw a most peculiar sight while making my way towards the pony's town... what looked like a zombie, forcing himself out of the river with neither smile nor frown.” Zecora said softly, taking another scoop of the stew and gently feeding it to the Loa. The stallion scowled, but he didn't resist, as the mare continued quietly: “I don't want to say I was worried, not at that point at least... there and then I still thought of you as nothing but a beast. But I felt... concerned, I think I'll say, for Ponyville at large; but I never thought that you'd be so dumb as to incite a wild charge.”

La Croix laughed dryly, then he shook his head briefly before muttering: “Ponies be stupid and dumb. But I guess I didn't expect them to be so... defensive 'bout bein' stupid and dumb.”

Zecora sighed and gave him a pointed look, and La Croix grumbled and silently accepted another spoonful of stew without complaint. And a moment later, the stallion hesitated before looking across at her and asking, despite the fact he knew he wasn't going to get a different answer: “Why did you save me, mademoiselle vielle?”

The priestess only smiled amusedly at him, then she shook her head before simply rolling over his question... but maybe she knew that it wasn't really a question at all, that there was no need for her to say anything further there. “I can't speak for Ponyville, or where they now stand... but their memories are short, and their anger is always quick to disband.”

La Croix grimaced at this, tilting his head back and forth before he muttered: “I dunno 'bout that. They seem pretty damn angry at me. And they seem like they was angry at me for both this time as well as last time, if you know what I mean, boo.”

“I do, Monsieur La Croix, my odd companion... but think: between us, there used to exist a canyon.” Zecora pointed out, then she calmly took another scoop of the stew before gently feeding it to the zebra, who accepted it moodily, but without any real complaint. “Now, I would almost dare to call us friends... not just allies looking to accomplish the same ends.”

“You rhyme 'friends' and 'ends' a lot. Pretty sure that be cheating, boo.” La Croix muttered, and then he shook his head quickly before continuing mildly: “Not that I be complaining or anything, of course. Ain't like I don't cheat and lie and steal myself. Them's honorable traits.”

Zecora rolled her eyes, then she said dryly: “I don't know if I like this 'nicer' you yet. Nor do I want you acting differently because you feel you're in debt.”

“Hey, I ain't in debt to you! I mean... well, I kinda am but... it sounds like I pulled myself out of that damn river. I would have been fine.” La Croix argued, shaking his head quickly, and Zecora gave him a slight smile before the Loa grumbled, then grouchily accepted another spoonful of stew. But just that little burst of grouchiness was enough to tire him out, the stallion settling back into the pillows before he mumbled to himself as Zecora carefully lifted the cup to his lips.

He couldn't taste the tea, but he drank gratefully all the same. It soothed his stomach and helped him settle a bit as he looked up at her, waiting for her to pull the cup away before he muttered: “You know, you don't have to treat me like a giant damn baby. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own damn self. I don't need the help of no fou priestess.”

“I can't tell if that's your pride or just your argumentative side... La Croix, you do understand that you very nearly died?” Zecora pointed out, and the Loa mumbled a little before the mare said gently: “Just try and be patient, for one last night... then, tomorrow, we'll continue your fight.”

La Croix laughed dryly at this, and then he dropped his head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling and mumbling: “Yeah, let's do that, and get my teeth kicked in again by those crazy ponies. That sounds like a great plan, really. No, it's... it's over.”

La Croix looked down for a moment, then he reached up and rubbed slowly at his muzzle, murmuring: “Yeah. It's over. Even if I did finish this, I ain't gonna kid myself. Bondye ain't gonna let me back in the fold... I ain't no Loa no more. I would come back, and they would... I don't wanna guess what. I just know it wouldn't be pretty.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then La Croix sighed a bit, looking up at Zecora and giving her a brief smile. “So don't you worry none 'bout me. Maybe I just... make me a good big batch of goofer dust, carve me some little charms, go hide out somewhere.”

“La Croix, you wouldn't last ten minutes in the wilds on your own... your fate may be drawing near, but not yet is it set in stone.” Zecora encouraged, shaking her head briefly before she sighed a little, saying quietly: “There are no coincidences, La Croix, you came into my life for a reason... if I just let you give up now, it would be like committing treason.”

The Loa only grunted at this, then he shook his head moodily before rubbing at his face with one hoof and settling back against the bed, sighing softly. Without either hurry nor fuss, Zecora calmly went back to spooning stew gently into his mouth, and La Croix ate, not knowing what to feel. Not even knowing what he should do next, even as he felt his strength slowly starting to come back, and a bit of his old stubbornness starting to rise, that fire inside that made him so damn determined to prove himself, even if the rest of him was always so lazy, so determined to take every little shortcut...

Zecora put the empty bowl aside, then gently helped him drink the last of the tea. Then she removed the empty tray, and left La Croix alone to think quietly to himself for a few minutes.

When the mare came back, La Croix glanced over at her, licking his lips slowly before he asked almost abruptly: “Why the hell are you doin' all this? And don't tell me 'cause life be sacred or the cycle c'est importante. That don't make sense to me. The first rule of life be 'look out for yourself.'”

The mare only gave him a quietly-amused look, asking gently: “And how has that been working out for you, spirit? Because from what I see, you don't live life, you fear it.”

“I ain't afraid of nothing! Pah, pouyaille!” La Croix exclaimed, sitting up and shaking his head fiercely... and then his head swam and his eyes watered, and he flopped back on the pillows with a wheeze, rubbing slowly at his features and mumbling: “Well... I ain't fond of pain. But only crazy cocodrils like pain... and I don't wanna talk about them none.”

“Then fight to live, and if you need more reason to, think about this: if you do die, La Croix, you know what awaits you is anything but bliss.” Zecora said quietly, and La Croix looked dumbly up before he shivered a little, gritting his teeth as he realized that the priestess, whether she was crazy or not... she was right, too. Unless he wiggled his way out of this mess... Helheim was going to claim him. And he'd seen enough of the ice to know he wouldn't last very long down there.

“I don't have much of a plan right now, La Croix... but there are a few suggestions I can make, from what I saw.” the mare said gently, shaking him once to bring his attention back to her. “I spent much of my time at your side here, but I can scry, although I am no seer; Canterlot is well-protected, but your presence they have not detected. And Ponyville has quieted once more... although I have no doubts their wounds are still open and sore.”

La Croix grimaced a bit, and then Zecora said softly: “Take tonight to rest, and we'll see how you fare tomorrow... and don't rush, La Croix, a day yet for rest we can still safely borrow. I have no doubt we can get to Canterlot with ease... it's getting inside that won't be such a breeze.”

The stallion grumbled under his breath, and then he sighed softly and flopped back on the cushions. He meant to speak up, to say something, but instead he ended up falling asleep before he even realized how exhausted he was feeling.

When he next opened his eyes, he blinked blearily in surprise and sat up... then groaned and rubbed slowly at his sore back, but there was only the faintest hint of dizziness lingering now. And with a little bit of effort, he was able to wiggle out of bed and stand carefully up, stretching his aching muscles slowly out before he smiled briefly and strode out of the hut.

He looked back and forth curiously, but Zecora was nowhere in sight. After a moment, however, he thought he picked up the faintest strains of singing... and the stallion curiously turned towards the sound, striding hesitantly through the trees.

After a few minutes, he found himself approaching the source of the singing, and he was surprised to peer out of the bushes to see Zecora. She was calmly washing herself in a glistening, crystalline pool of water, her jewelry set aside for the moment on a flat stone, leaving her unadorned, natural... beautiful, he thought. And she was singing a song in the old language, which he recognized after a moment of concentration...

“So I pray to you, my ancestors highest, for the strength to see this through... yet always I am thankful for the knowledge you will be at my side...”

Zecora's voice sang out, strong and pure: she had a beautiful rhythm to her voice, and La Croix bit his lip even as he felt himself wanting to call back the response of the spirits, felt it swelling up out of his chest... but he swallowed it back, only continuing to watch her silently from the cover of the forest, not even sure what he was feeling anymore.

“To He Above I sing this song, in praise for what he's done... and in apology for my people and our failings in the past; spirits, take this message to the one who created our wondrous land...”

“I do, I do, I take it there now, but He Above will not turn his head...” La Croix muttered before he could stop himself, then he hurriedly reached up and covered his mouth with both front hooves, even if he was quite certain that there was no way the mare could hear him from here. And then he only stared as Zecora rose her front hooves above her head and poured the water cupped between them down over her features, sending it cascading down her neck and over the curves of her supple form...

“With love I sing to He Above, I know there is no answer; for even if we have disappointed him, even if he remains aloof, all the same he has given to me you...”

Zecora drew the last note out as she settled a little lower into the water, hooves pushing back through her mane... and staring La Croix almost fell forwards, loudly rattling the bushes in front of him and snapping several low branches. Immediately, the mare in the water looked sharply over her shoulder, maybe the faintest blush on her features as her eyes searched back and forth...

La Croix flushed deeply... then gritted his teeth as he straightened, swallowing back his cowardice as he rose his head and forced himself to sing as brazenly as he could, as he stepped slowly through the bushes to emerge into the grasses surrounding the pool: “And it is his love that gave us life, his humility that let us be free...”

“We weren't ready for the responsibility, our freedom we took for granted... we made war upon each other, burned our beautiful land...”

Zecora's reply came as naturally as instinct, flowed as beautifully as if she had never been interrupted, even though she was staring at La Croix as the stallion slowly made his way towards the edge of the pool, blushing only slightly as he approached.

And as her last note faded, he sang back: “It hurt him so and made our king turn his gaze away... and even if he seems so far gone, I know every day he prays...”

“And together, together, you and I will find the path... together, together, we'll restore what we once had...”

Zecora sang... and this time, La Croix joined her, not responding, but singing with her, their voices mixing together beautifully as she looked up from the rippling water and he gazed down from the banks of the forest, the whole world seeming to come alive around them and join in their song as they leaned towards each other, as they repeated in perfect harmony:

“And together, together, you and I will find the path... together, together, we'll restore what we once had... and together, together, you and I will find the path... together, together, we'll restore what we once had...”

They leaned forwards, Zecora looking up with her emerald eyes wide and beautiful and round as the moon, and La Croix leaned down, awed by her beauty, her voice, the way she seemed to make the forest around her more alive-

La Croix slipped on the edge of the bank and toppled into the water with a tremendous splash, Zecora wincing backwards too late from the great burst of wet that almost knocked her sprawling. She shook her head to try and get her sopping mane out of her face, briskly rubbing at her features... and then she stared when La Croix suddenly popped up out of the water with a gasp, beet-red and his own sopping mane hanging over his face as he spat out a bit of water, then looked lamely at the mare.

The two looked at each other for a few moments, and then Zecora began to giggle. La Croix only blinked dumbly behind his soaked bangs, and the mare gave him a radiant smile before she started to laugh in earnest.

La Croix only glared at her... but he had to fight hard not to smile, even as he rose his hooves and complained: “Okay, okay, you can taisse-toi now, ain't that funny. I just... I was comin' in anyway, I needed me a damn bath!”

Zecora laughed louder at this, and La Croix huffed, but felt strangely delighted before the two looked at each other as Zecora's merriment finally subsided, and she smiled warmly again at him as she rubbed slowly at her face, murmuring: “You do need a bath. Thank you... it's been a long time since I've had such a laugh.”

“That was barely a half-rhyme there, Zecora. You're losing your touch.” La Croix said mildly, and Zecora smiled at him again before she shook her head slowly and reached up, gently stroking a hoof down the bridge of his muzzle.

He blushed slightly as she bopped his nose quietly, then the mare murmured: “There are other ways to please the spirits than just by rhyming. All of it just has to do with having the proper timing.”

“There you go again now.” La Croix said softly, and the two looked at each other again, eyes meeting for a few long moments before he hesitantly leaned towards her, reaching a hoof up silently...

And Zecora gently stopped him, catching him by the wrist with one hoof as the other rested against his chest, the mare saying softly: “La Croix, no matter... what we feel... we both know we'll be drawn apart by fortune's wheel.” She stopped, bit her lip for a moment, then closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “I'm sorry. We can't.”

La Croix slumped a bit, and Zecora gently shifted his hoof to hold it, looking at him silently before she said softly: “I know it's insulting to say that I'll still be your friend. But...” Zecora shifted a bit, shifting slowly before she said finally: “I'm not saying that I don't care about you. I do. I'm not saying you're too different... you're not. I'm saying that... I don't want to lay claim to your heart, when I know you have a future in a different place.” She smiled a bit, her emerald eyes gleaming brightly, and La Croix's heart caught in his throat as he realized they glowed so beautifully because of the tears she refused to shed. “And I'm too old to survive giving you mine, and then losing you, La Croix.”

“I'd stay with you. Darkwater, the cycle, Bondye... forget 'em all. I'd stay with you.” La Croix said quietly, looking up at her honestly, and Zecora gave a soft chuckle as she nodded slowly.

“I know you would... and I wish that you could.” Zecora murmured, and then she silently rose his hoof to her mouth, kissing it softly. “But I also know you wouldn't ever forgive yourself for putting us both at risk... but you know as well as I do, even if we restore the cycle, together we would never be safe as vagabonds upon this eternal disc.”

“Yeah. I got a feeling that no matter what I do, the demons gonna be comin' for me...” La Croix bit his lip, shivering a little before he looked up at her and nodded briefly once. “Yeah. I guess you're right, cher... even if... well, you might be underestimating what a coward I am, too.”

Zecora only gave him a brief smile, and there was silence for a few moments before La Croix cleared his throat and asked in a grumpier voice, trying to push away everything, trying to swallow all his emotions, make it so none of this ever happened and... everything was normal and fine as could be... “Now where the hell's my damn hat? And my cape. I gotta fix 'em up and you ain't gonna be no damn help, I can see that.”

The mare only looked at him with that lingering smile, and then she said softly: “You really can't have come all the way for that. I can't imagine you actually missed seeing your hat.”

La Croix looked at her blankly, and the zebra mare sighed a little before saying dryly: “It's on the table. And I'll mend your cape when I'm able.”

“Y'ain't able, though. I mean...” La Croix shifted a little in the water, gazing longingly over the mare before he cleared his throat a bit and continued as normally as he could: “It's a special kind of silk, and it can't be sewn by us big clumsy zebras. I'll just have to work some of my old... magic...”

The Loa scowled at this, then he splashed a bit at the water before grumbling: “Dammit. Right. I ain't got none of my powers... but I dunno if it's necessarily a power, like...”

La Croix looked thoughtful, and Zecora frowned at him before the stallion asked blandly: “You know where I can find me some spiders?”

The mare winced a bit at this, and then she sighed a little before rubbing slowly at her forehead, muttering: “Well, it shouldn't be hard for you to round up a few... but La Croix, have you really thought this... 'plan...' through?”

“Hey, you do your thing, I'm gonna do mine.” La Croix said defensively, and then he huffed as he turned around and carefully scrambled out of the shallow pool, shaking himself violently to get rid of the water from his body before he hesitated, then glanced over his shoulder and offered her an awkward smile. “I uh... I'll see you soon.”

Zecora softened slightly, but La Croix quickly turned and almost bolted into the trees, heading back in the direction of the hut. He did his best to keep his thoughts at bay as he shook what wetness he could off his body, throwing out as many of his silly thoughts with it as he could.

She haunted his mind, though, and it made him feel... funny, and a little hurt, and a lot miserable. And he really had no idea what he was going to do over the next few days about... about any of this. It scared him, how she had barged her way into his heart and now... even the whole cycle and the reason he'd been sent here didn't seem as important, especially since they could never...

He shook his head violently, then spat a curse to the side before storming into the hut. But this time, instead of throwing a tantrum like he had last time, he only made himself take a slow breath as his eyes flicked to the side... and he cringed a little at the sight of the empty space where the broken shelf had once stood, and the pockmarks and stains over the floor where potions had spilled. He looked at this for a few moments, then shook his head briefly before grumbling a bit and heading over to a large trunk full of Zecora's belongings, promising himself he was going to do better.

He didn't really recognize the irony in the fact he was once more pawing through her personal things until he managed to find what looked like a net. It probably wasn't for catching bugs, but he figured that it would work well enough all the same.

La Croix nodded firmly to himself, tossing this over one shoulder before he turned to trot over to the table, grabbing up his hat and looking critically over it. It still felt a bit wet, but otherwise he thought it seemed like it was in pretty good condition... even if he had the horrible feeling that there were probably a few gallons of water inside his hat still, and all the ingredients he'd shoved in there were likely ruined.

The stallion bit his lip, then plunged one hoof into his hat, feeling around inside of it up to the shoulder with a grumble before he winced as he touched something wet and gooey. He yanked whatever it was out, then stared dumbly at the dead fish before yelping and flinging this quickly out of the hut.

Well, the water had likely gone right to the very bottom of the hat, soaking everything solid on the way down. And brought a few things in with it... and La Croix shivered a little, but then took a quick breath before tossing his hat on his head. It landed with a wet plop, making him flinch, but thankfully there was only a small trickle of water.

He decided to go ahead with his plans in spite of everything, figuring it would at least distract him from the world's constant attempts to screw him over: so, with his objective in mind, La Croix turned and headed back out into the forest. It didn't take him very long to find what he was looking for: a large clump of what looked like fur and webbing, stuck to the base of a tree.

La Croix peered at this for a few moments... then he suddenly shouted and flung the net forwards over this. It didn't quite work as intended, however, the net only bouncing off the tree and falling flat as the mass of fur split open, dozens of surprisingly-large spiders spilling out in all directions.

Quite a few of them swarmed angrily right for La Croix, who winced and staggered backwards, then shouted angrily: “Hey, wait! Y'all stop right there, you bog-scampering scum! I be a Loa, and y'all are my new servants!”

To his shock, the spiders actually listened, halting in place as the zebra leaned forwards and growled at them. Then he grinned a little before sweeping his cape off his shoulder, calmly flicking it out before tossing it down and pointing at it, declaring: “Fix it!”

The spiders didn't move, and La Croix scowled at them before he pointed violently several times at the cape, shouting: “Hey, y'all deaf? Fix this, I know y'all can! I need spider's silk, and y'all be... silky spiders, so... get silkin'!”

And then La Croix blinked as something landed on his nose, wrinkling up his muzzle before he sneezed loudly and sent a tiny spider flying through the air. He scowled at this, then looked up... and a spider almost the same size as his head dropped out of the branches and onto his face, the Loa squealing in terror, then pain, as countless more spiders dropped from the trees and swarmed eagerly forwards over him, biting and clawing angrily at the zebra.

He yelled and rolled wildly back and forth, flailing his limbs in all directions as the spiders swarmed onto him, biting and trying to cover him with webs. They were incredibly resilient, however, refusing to give up the fight and constantly swarming back towards him no matter how many times he tried to get rid of them, the stallion shouting and cursing until he flung himself sideways, rolling violently several times until he whacked into the legs of another zebra.

Zecora looked down at him mildly, and both La Croix and the spiders covering him froze, countless eyes staring up at the mare before she said dryly: “Spiders, do as you've been told. La Croix, please don't be so bold.”

The spiders hurriedly withdrew from La Croix, the largest giving him one last firm bite to his nose to make him yelp before it leapt off and scurried away. The stallion scowled horribly after them, then looked up at Zecora and snapped: “You know, you could have let me know you could talk to the damn spiders... why the hell do they obey you, anyway?”

“I get along with most of the forest's population. And if you'd asked, I would have gladly saved you this frustration.” Zecora paused, then sighed a little as La Croix awkwardly sat up, the mare reaching up to touch the stallion's throbbing, visibly-inflamed nose. “Now look at what you've gone and done to yourself. Can't you just once put your pride on the shelf?”

“Hey, it wasn't... my pride. More... I dunno.” La Croix slumped a bit, looking awkwardly at her before he gave a brief smile. “Y'ain't wearing all those silly gold rings.”

“I heard the ruckus on my way back home... I just left my things inside on a tome.” the mare replied softly, shaking her head before she glanced past him and added with a bit of entertainment: “But well, it looks like you weren't entirely wrong... although maybe next time you'll barter with less anger and more song.”

La Croix huffed at this, saying grumpily: “Cheatin'. That don't make no damn sense in any language.” he said moodily, turning around to look at the mass of spiders swarming over his cape, repairing the rips in the fabric with their silk, weaving with eerie speed and skill... but he knew that for the spiders, every thread of his clothing contained the blueprint and patterns they needed to construct his clothing. It wouldn't take them long to make the necessary fixes... hell, he was surprised it had worked out so well, been so easy.

Except, as La Croix looked over at Zecora, he could only smile faintly as he thought that maybe... nothing was really as easy as it seemed.

Entrance Strategy Of A Wrecking Ball

Chapter Six: Entrance Strategy Of A Wrecking Ball
~BlackRoseRaven

There was nothing left to do now but move forwards with their plan. And it wasn't much of a plan at that: it was a seat-of-the-pants, hope-for-the-best, this-is-incredibly-stupid mishmash of wild scheming. They would be relying heavily on the element of surprise and simply making a rush towards their target before anyone could stop them.

They had prepared as much as possible over the last two days: the spiders had done a phenomenal job repairing La Croix's cape, but it wasn't quite as functional as before: repairing the physical damage alone could never fully restore the enchantment on the material.

But that was more than enough for La Croix: the pockets worked like pockets and he had cleaned out and spiffed up his hat, so it was no longer constantly dripping water. He had just about everything they'd need stuffed into there, and La Croix only hoped that Zecora was right about getting him into Canterlot unnoticed.

There was the vague possibility that they'd be able to get to Princess Twilight Sparkle before anything went horribly, horribly wrong. There was a much greater possibility that they'd be caught right at the gates, and thrown in the dungeon until whatever bad thing was going to happen, happened, and they were left trapped at ground zero. Failure at this point wasn't an option for either of them... and yet at the same time, it was the most likely thing to happen.

La Croix grumbled under his breath, and Zecora gave him a soft look as they walked side-by-side through the forest, the mare saying gently: “Don't be like that, my friend. We're just about through to the very end.”

“You did it again.” La Croix stopped, then scowled over at her small smile, studying her for a few moments before he said finally: “You been doin' that on purpose, haven't you?”

“What purpose would I have, my friend... of rhyming that word again and again with end?” Zecora replied easily, and La Croix sighed before the mare continued pleasantly: “Unless, of course, you look at this one little fact: when you think you've outwitted me, much happier you act.”

“I... I do not. You ain't... you fou, cher.” La Croix grumbled, and then he scowled as they approached the edge of the Everfree Forest, the stallion compulsively reaching up to grasp at the charm necklace Zecora had given him. “Well... we here, I guess. So uh... well. We better do our thing. You sure you ain't gonna screw up?”

“I'll do my very best, La Croix, to pull this off without any flaw.” Zecora said ironically, and La Croix grumbled before beginning to turn towards her... and freezing up when she kissed his cheek gently as she swept his hat off his head. “For luck. Don't get stuck.”

La Croix blushed a bit, then he huffed at her, trying to hide his embarrassment before he grabbed the edges of his overturned hat, mumbling: “You don't... get stuck.”

With that, La Croix dove down into his own hat, wincing as he felt an incredible pressure around his body before he was left floating weightlessly in a purple void. The walls of this looked like thick, stitched fabric, as was the floor far, far below, while above he could see an enormous window. It was like looking through a distorted lens, both stretching and shrinking objects like a funhouse mirror... but when Zecora leaned over the hat, La Croix couldn't help but smile all the same. Even with a tiny head and an elongated neck, she still somehow managed to be pretty. Mostly.

He grinned up at her, then winced, feeling a swirl of vertigo as the hat was lifted up. There was no actual feeling of movement apart from the slightest shiver in the air, but seeing that world whip by before the window was blocked out as the mare put the hat on her head... it was just plain weird.

La Croix wheezed a little, then looked moodily around before he swarm quickly upwards through the void. There were several bundles of balloons floating around, and La Croix made his way to one of these with a meditative look. He had to admit, Zecora had come up with a rather ingenious idea... even if balloons kind of scared him a little.

Normally, living things didn't do too well in here. After maybe half an hour, anything pony-sized in here would have used up all the air and would suffocate. But they had filled these balloons with life-giving oxygen... and hopefully, between them and a potion that would numb his body and suppress his respiration and heartrate, he wouldn't suffocate before Zecora made it into Canterlot.

La Croix poked at the balloons a few times, then grinned and drew his hooves back before firmly clapping them on either side of one... and he swore under his breath as he failed to pop it. Immediately, he grappled the balloon wildly in the weightless void, squishing it against himself before it suddenly went off with a loud bang.

The zebra huffed and scraped pieces of broken balloon off his body, glowering at the many, many other bundles before he reached into a pocket of his cape, producing a fine, long needle. Then he grinned as he swam forwards, stabbing one balloon after another to fill this void with all the oxygen he'd need... or again, so he hoped.

There wasn't any getting out of here until Zecora pulled him out, unfortunately: sure, he could force his way out if something happened, but... he'd probably break Zecora's neck if he did that while she was wearing the hat. More importantly, she was concerned about the sudden increase in security she'd seen while in Ponyville to pick up some supplies: the Royal Guard were now patrolling the road, looking for any suspicious ponies.

In all likelihood, it had a lot more to do with whatever project Twilight Sparkle was dealing with than La Croix, but no matter how you looked at it, La Croix definitely fell under the category of 'suspicious.' And just a cloak wasn't going to cut it: Zecora had already heard that there were Royal Guard stopping and searching everyone trying to enter Canterlot.

Zecora had discovered that not even any of Twilight's friends had spoken to her in the last ten days, at least: it gave the priestess her own private concerns about what Twilight might be up to, and whether or not they might already be too late to stop whatever was happening. And the worst part was looking at all this, and knowing it all came from a place of innocence, of good intentions...

But like a child who just wanted to explore, a curious mare who stole a key to open that locked door she'd always been told to stay far away from... that innocent desire was going to have very real, very cruel consequences. Twilight was plunging headlong into a very dangerous magic that would do profound damage to the very thing she wanted to protect...

Zecora shook her head slowly as she walked into Ponyville, but the zebra mare made herself smile all the same as she strode through the town. Ponies greeted her happily in the sunshine, a few walked up to her, complimented her 'fancy hat,' and others asked her about this tea or that salve or one of her other little mixtures she often made for these simple, goodhearted villagers.

The zebra smiled and was as gentle as she could afford to be, but at the same time she continued to press her way quickly straight through the little village. It was only a few minutes before she was on the road to Canterlot, giving a silent sigh of relief: she liked them, she really did. But that didn't really change the fact they could be a little bit... needy from time-to-time.

The walk towards Canterlot wasn't that long, but Zecora kept her pace quick and steady all the same: she was admittedly a little worried about La Croix. By now, he had to have taken the potion, and he was probably in a trance, if not unconsciousness... she just hoped that not just the potion, but that little charm she had given him kept him safe.

She hadn't said it, but what made her the most nervous about this whole plan wasn't the fact that La Croix could suffocate in the hat, or they could easily get caught by a smart or simply lucky Royal Guard outside of Canterlot. What made her nervous was the fact that they had to put La Croix into a near-death state to make sure he wouldn't use up all his air... and unfortunately, in that state, he would be extremely susceptible to his Loa brethren and any other spirits that might want to tamper with his mind...

This thought hadn't even occurred to La Croix: then again, for all his time spent as a mortal, most of it had been dealing with the physical side of being a zebra. All the disgusting needs of his body, made all the worse by how he couldn't smell or taste anything. And now, he was floating almost peacefully inside the hat, his hoof silently playing with the charm hanging around his neck, toying along the beautiful, carved ivory sigil as he breathed slowly in and out.

He wasn't... quite in a trance. But he felt like he was breathing maybe once a minute, and his whole body was tingly-numb. Tingly-numb, that was a funny way to put it, but that was just right too, wasn't it? Tingly-numb. He was tingly, tingly, tingly-numb...

La Croix giggled a little, and then he frowned a bit as his eyes fluttered before he looked back and forth. All the bottles and flasks that had been floating around him were gone, replaced by stars... and there was no longer any fabric walls, but the velvety blanket of deep, dark space everywhere... but he was still breathing – slowly... slowly... – so he guessed that it was okay. It was a nice change of scenery.

He smiled dreamily, his eyes slipping closed... and then he felt something gently catch him, and La Croix looked over before his eyes widened in surprise. He saw Zecora, almost shimmering, looking at him tenderly as she squeezed his shoulders, her gorgeous mane spilling all along her shoulders as she whispered: “La Croix...”

“Zecora...” he mumbled, and he rolled to face her... and she caught his hooves, the two of them spinning slowly together through the void, the stallion smiling tenderly at her as he whispered: “Zecora... hey... what... what are you doin' here, boo?”

“I'm here for you, La Croix...” Zecora's hoof tangled gently in his necklace, and La Croix smiled in delight as she pressed herself close against him, sliding her other hoof around to the back of his neck as she buried her face into his body. “My mighty stallion... I've missed you... I need you...”

“What about... I thought...” No, he couldn't remember. He couldn't make sense of things right now... except one thing nibbled at his mind. He scowled a little, then slowly rose his head before asking uncertainly: “Why ain't you rhyming?”

Zecora giggled softly against him, a strange, fluttery sound that wasn't like her at all, and La Croix suddenly reached up and shoved her to a leg's length when he realized she was trying to remove his necklace... and then his eyes bulged in horror, cold fear ripping through him as he saw he was holding a rotted, emaciated zebra mare, the zombie baring its yellowed teeth at him as she rasped: “Don't you love me, La Croix?”

She lunged at him, jaws wide, and La Croix screamed and kicked out hard, flailing wildly... and then he was back in reality, flipping lazily head-over-heels as he floated through the air, heart thudding weakly in his chest as he gasped painfully. He looked disbelievingly back and forth until he finally collided gently with the wall of the hat, and then he whimpered a bit as he bounced off this and began to float slowly back through the airless domain, rasping: “C'est des conneries. C'est vraiment des conneries! Oh, Bondye, what I do to deserve this...”

La Croix rubbed weakly at his face, and then he shivered once before hugging himself, looking nervously back and forth. His heart was already settling back into its slowed rhythm, however, and he could feel his breathing slowing with it... but that sense of euphoria he'd felt definitely wasn't coming back. His brain felt strung-out now, not relaxed, just waiting for the next attack...

Eventually, he fell into an uncomfortable doze; every ten minutes or so, he would wake up, an eye opening to look nervously back and forth before he fell back asleep, his cape clutched tightly, protectively around himself. He wasn't sure how long passed like this before he finally awoke with a headache, scowling a bit as he rubbed slowly at his forehead.

He looked back and forth uncomfortably, then shook himself quickly out before rubbing at his throat. It felt dry, and his skin felt clammy, and he shivered weakly as he swam his way down through the void towards the brim of the hat. They had to be close to Canterlot now, right?

The stallion shifted nervously back and forth in front of the hole in the hat... while outside, Zecora stood as calmly as she could in a long line leading to the gates of Canterlot. There were all kinds of other ponies in line, from the rich and famous and utterly irritated, to the poor and impoverished and terrified they wouldn't be let back inside.

The mare wasn't entirely sure what was going on at the front of the line, but it looked like there was a large cart of some kind, probably either a supplies transport or a merchant... but were the Royal Guard really going to search every inch of that, along with everything else that was going into Canterlot? If security was this bad out here, just at the outer gates, what would it be like at the castle itself? Did they even really stand a chance of getting inside?

No, she couldn't let those kinds of thoughts take over, no matter how true they were, no matter what was going on. She just had to be as calm as she could and stick to their... 'plan.' Zecora shivered a bit at this thought, realizing fully how utterly desperate and ironic that was: they really didn't have that much of a plan to begin with, after all.

There would be no point in getting worked up, or trying to duck out of line now: the only thing she could do was keep moving forwards with things as they were. So Zecora simply held her head high and kept her eyes forwards: she told herself again, like she always did when things seemed to go wrong, that there was no such thing as coincidence. Everything happened for a reason.

Two more Royal Guards emerged from the gates and stepped past the carriage that was being sorted through, gesturing at the line to get it trickling forwards again: Zecora watched closely as they inspected every pony that approached. She was grateful she didn't see anyone turned away... but the guards did take a few strange things. From one pony, they took his scarf; from another, they took what looked like a bagged lunch; from a griffon, they removed what looked like some kind of feather cleaning powder.

They didn't seem to be removing items at random, either, or taking valuables: they made a giant mess of one pony's lunch pail, but didn't actually take anything. They went through a mare's purse, despite her whining the entire time, but they put all her jewelry and coins back, in spite of how easy it would have been to palm a few. They were looking for some very specific things...

So did that mean that someone had sent a threat or warning to Canterlot? Or was whatever was going on in the castle sensitive to certain things, like how some potions couldn't be left next to each other for fear of contamination? Zecora wanted to know, but at the same time, she was worried about what they were going to say when she approached.

It took twenty minutes, but finally she was at the head of the line, and the Guards gestured at her. Zecora smiled at them as she strode up calmly, refusing to betray her nervousness as she said pleasantly: “Hello, honored Royal Guard of Canterlot. I have to reach the Castle, to bring what the Princess sought.”

“You have something for the Princess? We weren't informed.” said one of the guards slowly, and then he hesitated before his eyes widened a little, asking quickly: “Wait, what's your name? Are you from the Ponyville area?”

“My name is Zecora, and that is where I have made my home... although for many a year, far and wide I did roam. My real home is a far distance from here, a place I may never get to return to, I fear.” Zecora answered, bowing her head humbly.

“Nice rhyming.” muttered the guard, and then he nodded a bit and glanced over at the other large pony soldier. “Yeah, she's the one. She's on the list as a friend of the princesses, but... oh, right. Excuse me, ma'am, but we have to check you over. Please take off your hat, your cloak, and your satchels, we have to make sure you're not carrying anything... dangerous.”

Zecora smiled at this, shrugging and saying even as she complied: “I can assure you that I don't mean you any harm... and I doubt I could hurt you, or even cause any alarm. But if you're looking for something, you could let me know... I don't want to bring in anything to Canterlot that could cause woe.”

The guard in front of her grunted as Zecora offered him her hat: he glanced down at it absently while the zebra took off her satchels to toss in front of her. And then, moving calmly and casually as ever, she removed her traveler's cloak and passed it forwards, leaving the first guard's forelegs full.

He grumbled, fumbling her hat and cloak as the other guard began to dig through her bags, and Zecora said kindly: “Oh, I see. Excuse me.”

She reached out and politely took the top hat back, putting it back on her head, and the guard grunted his thanks as he began to dig through her cloak. The other soldier, meanwhile, had removed several potions, looking a little confused before he asked finally: “Ma'am, what's in these?”

“In those alone, there's about thirty different extracts... you'd be a lot better off telling me what you're looking to redact.” Zecora said mildly, and the guard grumbled a little under his breath.

“We could just take them all...” he muttered, and then he frowned when the other soldier shook his head, giving him a flat look. “Okay, fine. But it's your head if our superiors don't like this. Rosemary, sage, and lavender. Also something called, uh... I dunno, it's got a real funny foreign name-”

“With no offense meant, ma'am.” hurriedly cut in the other soldier, and the second Royal Guard looked up dumbly before wincing as he saw Zecora's mild look, nodding violently as the first explained awkwardly: “But it's not a substance likely to be found around here and uh... all these things are made with stuff from around here, right?”

“They all are, and some use the ingredients you said... give me a moment and I'll remove them instead.” Zecora offered, and the guards looked at each other before they both shrugged and nodded. Zecora smiled to them, then opened her satchels and quickly pulled out about five differently-colored potions, putting them aside before she said politely: “And if that is all, I'll be on my way... pleasant as you are, I really shouldn't stay.”

The Royal Guards looked at each other, then shrugged and offered Zecora her things back. She kept her calm smile as she took her cloak and quickly slipped it on, then she picked up her satchels, refusing to let her anxiousness take over and make her hurry even as the second Guard asked: “You did check inside her hat and everything, right?”

“Uh... yeah, I'm sure I did.” the first Guard responded as Zecora calmly strode by, heading towards the open gates. And then she did her best not to wince when the Guard suddenly called: “Ma'am, wait a moment!”

Zecora looked over her shoulder, tilting her head curiously as the Guard approached... and then he looked back and forth before suddenly leaning down, asking embarrassedly: “Ma'am, uh... you wouldn't happen to have something for a... stomach thing, would you? I guess you could say that I ate a lot of beans last night and... it's kind of embarrassing...”

“The soothing-blue potion I left behind is what you want.” Zecora paused, then added mildly, as the Guard smiled lamely and turned embarrassedly away: “Although really, you should just ignore your comrade's taunts.”

The Guard only laughed awkwardly, and Zecora shook her head before she turned around and calmly strode onwards, breathing a silent sigh of relief. She only hoped that she could now manage to work her way inside the castle grounds before La Croix ran out of air, with all the delays they were running into...

Inside the hat, La Croix could feel the air getting much thinner. It was harder to breathe, and he knew that it wouldn't be much longer now before he started to slowly, painfully suffocate. The Loa shivered at this thought, but he kept his attention off it as best he could by swimming around the void and gathering up loose ingredients to make a few last minute potions. It was the only thing he could do, after all... and without his powers, he really was going to have to rely solely on sleight of hoof and a few parlor tricks to get inside Canterlot.

He really didn't look forwards to that. Hell, he didn't even know how, without any real powers at his disposal and all the vulnerabilities of a spirit translated into his very weak physical body, he was going to deal with the princesses of this realm. Twilight Sparkle wouldn't be alone, after all: there was apparently a princess named Cadence who was very fond of her, and there were two others, Celestia... and... Luna. Oh, he really hoped he didn't have to deal with Luna.

La Croix shivered, then shook his head violently. No, no, the ponies he had dealt with in Helheim had been very, very different from these ponies. He had to keep reminding himself of that, and of how easy he'd made all of Ponyville quail in front of him... you know, right until he'd screwed up and set himself on fire.

The Loa scowled a little as he grabbed a large stone mortar and pestle out of the air, then shoved a loose herb into it and quickly ground it into a fine powder. Well, he wasn't going to make that dumb kind of mistake again. He was also definitely not going to let his fellow Loa, or even Bondye himself, divert him from this course: he was going to prove he was just as good as any of them. And then...

He didn't know what he'd do then. La Croix silently looked down into the stone bowl, then he sighed and allowed the grinding pestle to float away. The bowl he simply flicked downwards, leaving the powder floating harmlessly in the air until La Croix pulled a rag out of his cape, and then he swept the powder into this, balling it up and looking silently down at what he'd made.

Zecora made potions and salves to help people. She reached out to others, even when she didn't like them... she was almost maternal with these ponies, and yet at the same time, here she was, willing to help him sneak right through them and put a stop to whatever they were doing, because she trusted him. Well, maybe not completely, but she trusted him enough to believe that what he said was true, that this was all important to the cycle. She even cared about him for some reason he couldn't quite fathom!

And what did he make? Poisons, explosives, stuff to confuse or take advantage of others or downright hurt them. The stallion squeezed the little packet, smiling faintly, and then he shook his head and looked down in surprise when he saw the hat being shifted.

A moment later, a massive hoof reached in through the brim, and La Croix winced before he hurriedly swam up to it as it gently batted aside other objects on its way down. He reached out, touching it... and a moment later, there was a whirl of light and sound and vertigo before he popped free of the hat, gasping as he landed on wobbly legs before he looked dumbly back and forth.

They were... under a bridge, he guessed. He frowned uneasily at this as he breathed slowly in and out, while Zecora gave him a faint smile before she shook her head slowly, saying softly: “I got through the first gates without a hitch... but this is where our plans have hit a glitch. The doors of Canterlot Castle itself are just a little further away... but unless there's a change, all we can do is pray.”

“What do you mean?” La Croix scowled a bit, then he looked back and forth before scrambling for a staircase leading back up to the street. Zecora winced and hurried after the Loa as he barged back up to the main road of Canterlot, scowling around at the whitewashed buildings, the rich décor, the perfect state of just about everything...

And then his eyes widened as he looked towards the enormous doors blocking the front entrance to the castle: while they were slightly ajar, there were no less than ten soldiers on duty, blockading the way in. Every now and then, some pony would approach them, but they didn't budge in the slightest: instead, an angry little Pegasus would zip up to them and loudly tell them to go away, often in less-than-polite terms.

La Croix swore under his breath... then he looked moodily over at Zecora before biting his tongue and muttering: “No, this don't change nothing really, cher. Look, we're here... you was right. You got us into this big old city, and you got us right up to the gates of this castle. You know our plan was to part ways, anyway... so here's what's gonna happen. You go on, ask if they gonna let you in. If they turn you away, you just mosey on over to that crowd there and wait.”

Zecora looked uneasily at La Croix, and then she said slowly: “Not to doubt your abilities, my friend... but usually your plans don't happily end.”

“There you go, cheatin' again. You ain't no rhymy-rhymer after all.” La Croix said mildly, and Zecora gave him a dry look before the stallion shook his head quickly and smiled briefly. “Look. I got this. You trust in me, y'hear? Remember, you gotta laissez les bon temps rouler, and that's what I'm good at... so let me do this, honeychile.”

“I almost miss when you used to call me names... it made it so much easier to deny you your games.” Zecora murmured, and La Croix chuckled quietly at this, glancing down.

“Yeah, well, I almost wish...” La Croix halted, then he shook his head and murmured: “Look, just taisse-toi and do what I say. I got this.”

Zecora sighed softly, then she finally nodded once and said quietly: “Funny, how... welcome you almost make that sound. But so many diamonds are just coal when first found.”

“Don't be so damn girly. Ain't attractive. Go on now, get.” La Croix gestured at her a few times, and the mare gave him a dry look before she turned and walked calmly away, and the stallion smiled briefly after her before he reached up... then scowled as he realized he didn't have his hat, turning and bounding hurriedly back down the stairs and beneath the bridge.

Zecora, meanwhile, calmly approached the line of Royal Guard... then winced slightly when the little Pegasus shot in front of her, saying curtly: “The Princesses are not accepting visitors at this time. Please leave immediately.”

“My name is Zecora, and I am a friend of Twilight Sparkle... it's very important I speak to her or someone even more matriarchal.” Zecora replied, bowing her head towards the mare... but the Pegasus only snorted, glaring and shaking her head violently.

“Everyone is a 'friend' of Twilight Sparkle! And what makes you think you have the right to talk to any of our most esteemed rulers? And furthermore, did you not understand that they are not accepting visitors, or do I have to be even more blunt? Now leave!” squawked the angry little pony, and Zecora scowled ever so slightly before she took a breath and turned calmly around.

“Good. Stupid rhyming zebra.” muttered the small mare as Zecora walked away, and then the Pegasus brushed quickly at herself before glaring at the crowd of grumbling nobles and other ponies shifting back and forth some twenty feet away. “Hey, get lost! No one is going into the castle today! There is a very important experiment that absolutely cannot be disturbed going on right now, so you can all just pack up and go home!”

Ponies grumbled and shifted back and forth, and the attendant growled before she looked over her shoulder, snapping: “One of you, clear them out!”

The ten soldiers all looked down at the little mare with surprise, and the little Pegasus glared at them and gestured violently at the ponies before one of the soldiers said uneasily: “Ma'am, uh. We don't take orders from you, we take our orders from-”

“You obey the crown, and I represent the crown, and those ponies are a... a threatening element, a hazard to the safety of the castle! Get rid of them!” snapped the Pegasus.

The guards on duty looked uncertainly back and forth, none of them quite knowing what to do... and then all argument was cut off as there was a loud bang and a burst of black smoke, halfway between the gathered ponies and the soldiers.

In only moments, the smoke cleared... leaving a grinning La Croix standing with forelegs wide, posed magnificently as he called cheerfully: “Mes amis! I've heard your cries for attention, and here I am, to show you the way!”

Everyone stared in shock: everyone, that was, except for Zecora, who only shook her head slowly and sighed tiredly. But she couldn't help but smile, even as La Croix whirled around on one hoof, like he wasn't taking any of this seriously. At the same time, though, she thought that she saw a spark in him she'd only caught glimpses of before, if that: she saw something determined, something fierce, something... worthwhile.

“Yes, yes, hello one and all, I've heard your pleas, I've heard your call! And without losing a second more, allow me to open you a way to the door!” La Croix said cheerfully, and then he popped his hat off his head and caught it in one foreleg, reaching into it, making a big show of every gesture, every movement.

Behind him, the Pegasus snarled, leaping up to zoom forwards... and without hesitating, the Loa tore something out of his hat and flung it backwards, and a full-sized door seemed to appear out of nowhere... which shook violently when the tiny Pegasus rammed into it face first. It shocked the onlookers as La Croix blinked in surprise, and then he spun around on his hoof and 'opened' the door with a single easy tug, peering down at the pony before he said cheerfully: “Y'all so excited you couldn't just wait one minute more; but you should use your hoof, not your face, to knock on the door.”

There was a hearty burst of laughter from the crowd... and a few of the soldiers did their best to hide their snickers as well. The Pegasus, meanwhile, leapt to her feet with a snarl before shouting: “This is no place for fun and games! Now, like I just told your 'soul sister,' get lost!”

“Her? Her, well, she's an I-don't-know-who... but hey, mademoiselle, one day I'd like to!” La Croix waggled his eyebrows and then blew a kiss at Zecora, who blushed ever so slightly as she did her best not to look too charmed by his cheeky flattery. “Now, miss furieux, help me understand... how can what we be doin' illegal if this be all our land?”

There were a few shouts of agreement from the crowd, and the Pegasus glared up at La Croix as he smiled pleasantly back down at her, before the mare growled up at him: “It isn't your land at all. The castle and it's surrounding area belongs to the crown, and it is the crown that everyone in this country serves... and respectfully, too!”

“But ain't a crown just a hat? It sounds so silly to take orders from that!” the Loa replied easily, and then he reached into his hat and said positively: “Here, I got somethin' that'll cheer you up! Maybe make you feel a little more positive, pup!”

“I am perfectly positive!” shouted the Pegasus, and then she began to step forwards... before blinking in surprise as La Croix pulled out a bouquet of flowers and shoved it into her forelegs, leaving her to stare dumbly at him.

La Croix grinned cheerfully at her, and then he quickly drew his hoof back: only Zecora had eyes sharp enough to see him purposefully tear something away from the bottom of the bundle of stems, as he began easily: “See, flowers brighten up any mood...”

Then the Pegasus yelped as the flowers rotted away in her hooves, ponies staring and then wincing and leaning away at the awful stench of the decaying blooms. And La Croix winced and covered his nose with one hoof, waving the other wildly back and forth as he complained: “Or maybe your mood's so foul we really are all screwed!”

There were laughs again, and the Pegasus hurriedly threw the rotting bouquet away before leaning up and shouting: “Get out of here before I have you thrown in the dungeon!”

“Does that mean I get to go inside? So if I commit a crime you'll bring me... uh... inside where I may... bide?” La Croix fumbled his rhymes a bit... but Zecora couldn't help but smile softly at the fact he was actually trying. Maybe in part just to be distracting, sure, and to play on these ponies' preconceptions... but for some reason, it made her feel... funny, to see him trying so hard.

“Guards! Guards, get him!” snapped the little Pegasus, doing a furious little dance... and then she snarled when La Croix shook his head violently and thrusted out both his hooves with a huff. “No, you committed a crime and you're going to pay for it!”

“But so did you! You definitely did too!” La Croix said sharply, and all eyes looked at him curiously as he rose his head high, suddenly serious. Even the Pegasus wilted a bit in front of him, losing some of her nerve... before La Croix suddenly gestured at the door standing beside her, exclaiming: “You smashed down my door! You messed up my nice clean floor!”

The Pegasus' jaw dropped, the mare spluttering as La Croix ran around in a circle, ponies laughing again as he declared: “Okay, everything outside my home is your place. But everything inside my home is my space.”

“No! It doesn't work like that, and... that's not a house!” shouted the Pegasus... and then she gaped when La Croix calmly reached up and seemed to firmly knock on the air, creating a hollow clunking sound, like he was hitting wood.

The Pegasus dumbly walked up beside La Croix, feeling awkwardly through the air, while La Croix hopped backwards... and then grinned widely as he seemed to flop back on an invisible couch, putting his hooves behind his head comfortably. Zecora, however, only smiled amusedly even as ponies pointed and laughed and watched with awe: it was a meditation position that required balance more than strength.

The Pegasus glared over at him furiously, then walked over and shoved a hoof towards him, beginning to yell... and La Croix flung himself backwards, rolling and then making that loud thudding noise again as he bounced off an invisible wall, before the zebra leapt up to his hooves and shouted indignantly: “Hey, why'd you go and do that? Did you see, she shoved me over and I landed on my poor kitty chat!”

A meowing came from nearby, and the Pegasus jumped backwards, startled, as La Croix looked wildly back and forth before pointing at something, saying hurriedly: “There, there he be runnin' away! Hey, you silly chat, stay!”

More loud laughs as La Croix ran in circles around the Pegasus, who looked back and forth before yelping when La Croix suddenly leapt over her and tackled the imaginary cat. There were a few loud meows, but then the zebra stood and rose his head high with a sniff, before he looked over at the soldiers and declared: “Guards! D'y'all allow animal abuse in this place? I think you should arrest this silly disgrace!”

“Guards, arrest this... this public nuisance, this... this idiot!” shouted the Pegasus furiously, stomping her hooves wildly... and then she glared at the soldiers as they only laughed, the mare almost frothing at the mouth as she roared: “Listen to me!”

“I think you need a time out, so I'll let you look after my abode! After all, if you keep this up you gonna look like a toad.” La Croix said positively, flicking his hat up onto his head before he put his invisible cat down, then easily strode to the door. The Pegasus followed after him, shouting and swearing at him, but without looking back the zebra simply kicked the door shut, and the mare walked right into this with a bang... before the door wobbled, then fell flat on her, squishing her into the ground as the crowd roared with laughter.

The soldiers were laughing too, and La Croix grinned as he walked up to them, looking back and forth over the line of troops before he said kindly: “This ain't nothin' personal, friends. But you know what they say: every show ends!”

La Croix shrugged easily, no one noticing him palming bundles from his cape into his hooves... and then he suddenly stomped down, and there was a tremendous flash of light and sound. The soldiers were stunned by it, while the crowd gasped... then applauded and laughed as they saw that the stallion had vanished.

The soldiers looked just as impressed... that was, until one of them looked over his shoulder, and gaped at the sight of La Croix making a wild run through the entrance hall. Then the Royal Guard spun around, bolting after him as he shouted: “Hey you, stop! Stop him! We gotta stop him!”

The other ten soldiers spun around, bolting foolishly inside... but Zecora only smiled slightly. The Royal Guard weren't stupid, and someone would probably hurry back once they realized that everyone had rushed inside in a panic, and normally that would be enough. But in this case...

“If he can do it, I can too!” shouted a stallion's voice from the crowd, and ponies looked back and forth before the voice said hurriedly: “Get out of my way! I'm going to see Princess Celestia and let her know about this! I'm not a coward! We have rights!”

Other ponies shouted at this, and then a pony staggered forwards out of the crowd... and immediately, the rest of the ponies around him all leapt forwards, charging for the castle. They trampled the door laying in the middle of the path just as the Pegasus began to push it off her body, squishing her flat again with a squeak, and Zecora only smiled wryly to herself before she glanced over at the pony she'd pushed, saying politely: “My apologies for giving you a little push. But every now and then we all need a kick to our tush.”

The stallion gaped as Zecora strode calmly forwards, absently clearing her throat: it always felt funny after she mimicked someone. But then again, at least she'd proven that La Croix wasn't the only zebra who could throw his voice...

She just hoped that his parlor tricks would be enough to let him stay out of harm's way while she found Twilight Sparkle, and hopefully stopped this coming catastrophe before it was too late.

Aura

Chapter Seven: Aura
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix skidded around a corner, then leapt into a narrow niche in the wall: the small army of Royal Guards ran right past him before they all stumbled to a halt, falling over each other like dominoes as ponies looked wildly back and forth down the long hall, and La Croix bolted out of his hiding place went back the way he'd come before veering around another corner when a soldier shouted at him.

The zebra wheezed loudly as he stagger-ran down the hall: the Royal Guard were all strong, well-conditioned, in excellent shape, and this was their home turf. They had every advantage, and he had every possible disadvantage, minus one: he didn't play fair.

There were other ponies in the castle, too, but they hadn't served as much of a distraction: he guessed Zecora had rallied them so she could sneak in herself, and he just hoped she was having better luck than he was right now.

He could hear the guards catching up behind him, and the zebra stallion cursed under his breath as he looked wildly back and forth before he rammed shoulder-first into a doorway and knocked it open, leaping into the room beyond and...

La Croix stared blankly out at a large meeting hall, which was filled with soldiers. All of them stared back at La Croix in surprise, including a large, ivory unicorn in purple armor at the head of the hall, likely some kind of elite commander or something.

“C'est des conneries!” La Croix howled, and then he spun around and bolted back outside. He almost crashed right into another soldier, but the zebra ducked under the Royal Guard's grab, then flung himself in the other direction, sprinting as fast as he could...

Only for a door to open down the corridor and the purple-armored stallion to step out. And with only a flick of his horn, he created a barrier that filled the entire corridor, La Croix slamming face-first into this with a squawk before slowly sliding down to the ground in a broken heap.

“Excuse me, but I don't think you belong here.” the stallion said mildly, and La Croix opened one beady eye and glared up at him, as the magic barrier vanished. “Guards, please bring him to the interrogation room for questioning. Make him comfortable.”

“Yes sir, Captain Armor!” A Royal Guard saluted sharply as two more soldiers seized La Croix, and the last picked up his hat, looking over it curiously. “Sorry, sir! It won't happen again!”

“No harm done. I'll come and question him in a moment, once I'm done talking to the rest of the troops about my sister... I mean, Princess Twilight Sparkle's new machine.”

“Wait, wait! That's what I came to talk about! Y'all are gonna screw up this world!” La Croix shouted, wildly trying to shake off the guards.

So-called Captain Armor only frowned slightly, and then he smiled and said calmly: “Well, you can tell me all about your concerns in a few minutes. But really, no one knows Twilight better than me. She knows what she's doing. She wouldn't risk something this monumental if she didn't!”

“Yeah, I believed that about ma famille too. You wouldn't believe where I ended up, mon ami.” grumbled La Croix, and then he winced when the soldiers began to drag him away, the zebra shouting hurriedly: “You just wait! Ain't gonna be pretty! Y'all are makin' connards of yourselves! Bayou be pretty, but she still full of cocodrils, you mark my words!”

“Dude, shut up.” muttered one of the guards, and La Croix grumbled under his breath before he gritted his teeth, looking worriedly back and forth. There were no less than four soldiers, and they were apparently taking him to some interrogation chamber, where they would no doubt do all sorts of horrible things to him... and even if that unicorn had spoken so nicely, oh no, La Croix wasn't about to fall for that ol' trick... especially if he was that Twilight's frère!

La Croix couldn't break free, though: his struggles were barely noticed as they dragged him through corridor after corridor, and he was just making himself more tired and achy. So he resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to wait for the right opportunity... and even if they tortured him, hopefully they'd be dumb enough to leave him with his hat...

“Here it is. The interrogation room.” One of the ponies grinned widely, and the others chuckled as La Croix whimpered, looking wildly back and forth. They were on the other side of the castle now, and there was a much more military feel to this section: he was afraid that even if he somehow escaped, they'd just catch him immediately. And they'd probably bring him back here and tie him down on that nice cozy bed and... nice cozy bed?

La Croix looked stupidly back and forth: there was a large mattress with a simple set of sheets, a table, a few chairs... it looked like a small apartment. One of the soldiers had tossed his hat on the counter, while another was checking all the shelves.

The zebra blinked slowly, then looked dumbly over his shoulder at one of the soldiers as he said, with absolute seriousness: “We hope you have some time to reflect on what you did wrong in here. Captain Shining Armor will come and have a talk with you once he's done with the troops. Two Royal Guard will be stationed outside the door until then, to make sure you don't leave.”

“Uh... you... ain't gonna beat me up or anything?” La Croix asked dubiously, and when the soldier frowned at him, the zebra felt a strange, wild urge to either start laughing or raving at them. The hell is wrong with these ponies?

But he only pasted a serious look on his face until the soldiers left. The last one scowled at him, and the zebra tried to look innocent as he said humbly: “I'm already sorry. I feel very very bad.”

The soldier slowly closed the door, looking at him suspiciously until it clicked shut, and then La Croix spun around with a wide grin and strode over to his hat, muttering: “Sorry this is so easy. Looks like I might stand half a chance after all...”

La Croix cackled as he put his hat on his head, looking back and forth before he ran quickly towards the open door leading into the bathroom... and it really was a little bathroom, at that. Not like the stupid toilet in the stupid cell he'd been locked away in.

La Croix glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and then he took his hat off and quickly started yanking vials and bottles out of it, piling these in the sink until he had everything he wanted. Then he put his hat back on his head, glancing up at the three figures in the mirror before looking back down... then freezing up and paling, slowly drawing his eyes back up to his reflection... and his reflection's strange company.

Cimetaire and Samedi were both looking at him pointedly, and La Croix cleared his throat before he said awkwardly: “Don't y'all give me no nonsense 'bout this. I'm workin' hard here. And here, ici, this is where the problems be at. I can feel it!”

“Bondye says you outta time, La Croix... he says you been cheatin' the system, so you gotta pay the price.” Cimetaire said quietly, and La Croix grimaced as he paged through the potions, then he picked up two and put them aside. “You listenin', mon frère?”

“Listenin'. Ain't carin', though. This ain't about Bondye anymore, and this ain't about provin' my place. This ain't about me anymore even, not really. I know that sounds fou, but it... it's true.” La Croix muttered, shaking his head sharply, and then he gritted his teeth and looked up, growling: “I ain't lettin' none of y'all stop me. I ain't lettin'... Shiny Army or whatever his name is get in my way, I ain't gonna let even them fou princesses stop me. Y'all just stay out of my way now, hear?”

“Hey. We ain't gonna stop you, petite frère. We just passin' on a warning, that's all... sure, we had our problems in the past, but all that be just water under the bridge now.” soothed Samedi, and La Croix looked up warily even as he pulled out another vial.

“Yeah, well... merci, but y'all... should go back now.” La Croix hesitated, and then he rose his head, saying quietly: “I need to do this myself. I need to fix it myself. Y'understand?”

Cimetaire and Samedi traded looks... then they both shrugged before Samedi said finally: “Aye, I suppose we do. But you remember us too, La Croix. Our powers are limited, but we can still put a good scare or two into a pony if you really need it.”

La Croix smiled a little at the mirror, and then he glanced down for a moment... and when he looked back at his reflection, it was alone. The stallion reached up and toyed silently for a moment with his necklace... then cleared his throat, shook his head, and went quickly back to work.

He mixed potions together in careful amounts in the sink itself, going by eye but still surprisingly exact. Potions swirled and bubbled as he added a dash of this, a touch of that, watching as the chemicals turned different colors until he eventually had a dangerous-looking, boiling red acid in the sink, that was already eating slowly away at the porcelain... and La Croix grinned before he placed several open bottles of blue potion beneath the sink. All he needed to do was buy time until a single drop of red touched blue...

Then he heard a door opening, and La Croix bounced out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he mentally began to count the seconds in his head. He spun on his heel, then bowed deeply as Shining Armor approached, the unicorn frowning at him a little as the zebra said cheerfully: “Gotta say, this is the best dungeon I've ever been locked up in. Gonna need a little more toilet paper, though.”

The unicorn winced away from the bathroom door, then he cleared his throat before finally asking: “Who are you? And why did you attempt to break into Canterlot?”

“My name is Baron La Croix. I came here to fix things.” La Croix replied pleasantly, gesturing towards the stallion with one hoof. “Now, I know you think a world of your sœur and all, and she's a genius, but... she makin' a mistake here. Whatever she tryin' to do, splitting reality or jumping to another world, it ain't gonna end well.”

Shining Armor frowned at this, and then he asked slowly: “Wait... how do you know about my sister? How do you know her name at all?”

La Croix gave Shining Armor a flat look, but when the unicorn remained completely serious, the zebra muttered: “I guess she got the brains and he got the brawn. Okay, I keep this in simple words for you. Your sister. Is a. Princess. That means all we all know about her. You get it?”

“No, I know that! But you're a zebra, and you clearly come from another land, you almost said as much yourself... how do you know about my sister, and about everything she's trying to do? Even Equestria doesn't know about her projects and responsibilities.” Shining Armor replied sharply, sounding a little annoyed.

“Hey, don't give me no evil eye. You're the one who phrased the question funny. You the one who needs to learn his proper grammarology, not me.” La Croix said blandly, and Shining Armor gave the zebra a dry look before La Croix held up a hoof, adding mildly: “Also, you just might want to step a little to the left. Otherwise you gonna be vaporized.”

Shining Armor scowled at this, and then La Croix grinned and suddenly leapt backward, covering his head. Immediately, the stallion winced, hesitating only a moment before he created a shield of magical energy around himself, protecting him completely from harm... before Shining Armor scowled as nothing happened.

La Croix cackled and pointed at him, rolling onto his back... and as he giggled, he pushed himself carefully away with his hind legs. “Damn, you ponies are so gullible! You fell for it, you really did! The hell did you think I did, drop a bomb in the toilet?”

“Okay, that's enough.” Shining Armor said irritably, dropping his forcefield before beginning to approach. “If you aren't going to have a respectful conversation with me, then I'll have to-”

The wall beside Shining Armor exploded in a tremendous blast of eldritch light and waves of red and blue flame, La Croix yelping as he was knocked rolling violently backwards from the force of the explosion, in spite of the fact he'd managed to push himself quite a distance away. He hit the wall painfully with a grunt, then he quickly yanked another bottle out of his cape before popping the cork off, even as flares of light continued to shoot out of the hole in the wall accompanied by tremendous pops and crackles.

Soldiers rushed into the room, but they were blinded and shocked by the lightshow: and when their senses came back to them, they were again distracted by the sight of Shining Armor sprawled on the other side of the room in an unconscious heap, half-covered by seared wall-rubble.

None of them noticed La Croix carefully walking by: but considering both their disorientation and the fact that the stallion was currently walking along the ceiling, it was easy to see how he could be missed. He grinned to himself around the hat in his muzzle as he snuck carefully along, not rushing even if he could already feel the sticky goo he'd applied to his hooves weakening.

He snuck out into the corridor, then cautiously walked down it, sticking close to the wall and moving slowly and surely until he reached a large archway leading into a staircase. He peered back and forth, but by now he guessed his little distraction had brought most of the attention to the 'interrogation room,' so he carefully pushed himself off the ceiling and rotated his body, to land gracefully-

La Croix thudded down on his side with a squawk, then he gasped for breath for a few moments, feeling like one of his lungs had just collapsed. But the pain gradually subsided, and the stallion carefully picked himself up and tossed his hat on his head, muttering: “Ain't got time for this.”

He shook himself out, then hurried up the steps, grumbling under his breath... but by the fourth floor, he was wheezing loudly, wishing miserably for the umpteenth time for his old powers. Instead, all he had was a potion that he fumbled out of his vest, then guzzled down quickly.

He tossed the glass flask aside, then shivered a little as the pain in his body intensified before quickly diminishing. It didn't leave entirely, no, but the worst of it was gone, and it let La Croix keep moving forwards as quickly as he dared, eyes flicking moodily back and forth as he slipped out into a wide corridor.

It looked expensive as hell... and that was a good sign, right? The big statues, the pictures on the wall, how quiet it was up here... that meant he was probably getting close to the royal chambers or wherever princesses hung out, right?

La Croix peered around a corner, then sighed in relief: it looked clear, all the way to a set of double doors. He took a quick breath, then hurried forwards, intent on reaching these doors, sure that his objective must be behind them...

The doors opened, and La Croix skidded to a halt as Shining Armor stepped backwards out of them, carefully closing the doors behind him before he turned around... and the two stared stupidly at each other for a few moments before the zebra pointed at him and blurted: “That ain't possible! No one can run up those damn stairs so fast!”

Shining Armor frowned before his horn glowed... and with a flash of light and a pop, he vanished from the spot to reappear directly in front of La Croix.

La Croix reared back with a wince at this, then he gave a weak little giggle before clearing his throat and nodding awkwardly a few times, stepping slowly backwards. “Well uh... I did try and warn you, mon ami. And hey, you... you don't look so bad! A bit o' polish, that's all you really need!”

The zebra grinned widely up at the unicorn and reached up to awkwardly pat his broken chestpiece, a bit of ash fluttering down for the seared Shining Armor. The Captain of the Guard scowled a little darker as La Croix stepped away from the bruised and battered officer, as he added awkwardly: “But... I gotta stop the world from endin' as we know it... place is already weird enough as it is with you fou ponies... uh, no offense, Monsieur Armée...”

La Croix gave a lame little laugh, then he spun around and attempted to bolt, but Shining Armor only rolled his eyes as his horn glowed brightly. And with another pop, he vanished from the spot and reappeared in a flash of light in front of La Croix, the zebra painfully crashing face-first into the stallion's chest and knocking himself sprawling.

He scrambled back to his hooves in only a moment, and made a mad dash in the other direction, but again Shining Armor teleported in front of him. This time the Captain caught the zebra by the face before he could ram into him, however, glaring down at the Loa and snapping: “Enough! Look, I don't like getting angry, but you're really starting to try my patience here!”

La Croix winced and yanked himself backwards, his hat falling off his head: without thinking, he caught it in one foreleg and plunged his other hoof into it, desperately seizing on a clump of ground-up ingredients before flinging them into Shining's face with a wild shout of: “Sable du chapeau!”

Shining Armor yelled in vexation and pain, stumbling backwards and grabbing at his face as a mass of powder engulfed his head, and La Croix hurriedly bolted past the unicorn, smashing into the double doors and staggering through them into a sitting room of some kind. It was full of books and comfy furnishings and all kinds of nice things... and sitting on the far side of the room, in a large, plush chair, was an enormous, ivory mare. She had a horn, and wings, and a radiant, flowing mane, and even if La Croix had never seen her before he immediately knew...

“Can I help you?” Princess Celestia asked pleasantly, a cup of tea floating in front of her, balanced on a saucer. Her eyes were only slightly narrowed, her head tilted ever so slightly to the side...

La Croix gave a weak grin, then he held up a hoof and said awkwardly: “Y'all are screwing up. Where's Twilight Sparkle? I needs to talk to that fou pony and make her stop her experiment.”

“What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with Twilight Sparkle's experiment.” Celestia said slowly, only the flash of her eyes betraying her surprise. “How do you know about that?”

La Croix opened his mouth... then swore under his breath as he looked over his shoulder and saw a furious Shining Armor stumbling hurriedly down the hall towards him, staggering only a little in spite of his nearly swollen-shut eyes. “Whatever you say, lady. Excusez-moi!”

With that, La Croix dashed to the side door, smashing it open and just praying it wasn't a closet... and he laughed as he was rewarded with a narrow, less-polished corridor, likely used by servants. He bolted into this as Shining Armor stumbled into the room, and Celestia only sipped slowly at her tea, watching thoughtfully as the Captain of the Guard hurriedly apologized before quickly stumbling after the odd zebra.

La Croix had a good head start though, and the corridors branched in every direction, making it almost impossible for Shining Armor to pick up his trail. La Croix grinned over his shoulder as he heard the Captain of the Guard shouting vainly after him, and then the stallion skidded around a corner and smashed his way through a door into another room...

Two ponies blinked in surprise and looked up from where they were drinking tea at a small table, and La Croix stared at them for a few moments: from the fact they were both wearing little tiaras and were winged unicorns, he guessed...

His eyes locked on one in particular: oh, the rosy, nice-looking pink mare he didn't care about, oh no. But the other, oh, she was sapphire, and her mane sparkled like starlight, and she looked like a younger version of... of...

“Gotta go.” La Croix almost whimpered, and then he bolted across the room to yank the door beyond open... and stared in horror at a patrol of Royal Guards passing by, their heads held proudly, their armor gleaming, their gazes straight ahead. And the zebra carefully closed the door on them, moving as silently as possible... but the moment the handle clicked, he spun around and bolted back for the door he'd come in through with a wild clatter of hooves.

“You can't run from me! When I catch up to you I'm... I'm... I'm gonna kick your ass!” shouted Shining Armor's infuriated voice, and La Croix squawked before he slammed the door and threw himself against it. The princesses were still staring at them, and La Croix glared back at the two before the rose-colored mare suddenly sighed and gestured tiredly at him a few times.

“Oh, come here. Luna, we're going to play a prank, okay? Just think of it as a prank.” the rose-hued mare encouraged, and La Croix blinked, mouthing wordlessly. But before he could speak, the mare gestured again, much more urgently. “Hurry up, Shine will get in here any minute, and I don't think I've ever heard him so angry!”

La Croix winced at this, then he scuttled hurriedly over to them and promptly attempted to hide beneath the table. Both mares yelped and winced back, then kicked at him childishly, making him squawk before the rose-colored mare reached down and grabbed him, almost hauling him up into the open seat.

The stallion mouthed wordlessly, but before he even knew what was going on, there was an open newspaper forced into his hooves and he was shoved back into a slumped sitting position, leaving him completely walled off by the newspaper.

La Croix wanted to blurt that this was stupid, childish, never going to work... and then he froze in place when the door was smashed open and he heard Shining Armor stumble inside, the stallion swearing loudly as he looked back and forth. And then the rose-hued mare's voice rang out, clear and crisp: “You know that's another bit for the swear jar.”

“Cadence? Is that you? I... I can't see anything, that bastard threw something in my eyes and I think I'm allergic to it... after he-” Shining Armor was cut off as Cadence apparently stood up, maybe made a gesture. La Croix couldn't see, and much as he wanted to know, he also wasn't about to dare looking around the newspaper that he was now holding up like a holy shield.

“And there's another bit! Now, what were you doing, wrestling with the boys in the mud again? Shining, look at you, you're all beaten up!” The sound of metal being tapped, a body being poked at, and Shining grumbling.

“I'm fine he... he caught me by surprise with an explosive. Then I thought I had him, but he pulled something out of his hat and threw it in my eyes and I can't see and he humiliated me in front of Celestia! Can you believe that? Of all the times for me to screw up, I screw up on the most important day of the year in front of Princess Celestia herself!”

Luna sighed disconsolately, and the Loa looked awkwardly towards the mare. The strange sapphire mare looked back at him, frowning darkly, but as La Croix studied her, he quickly realized... “Oh, merci beaucoup, He Above... you ain't at all like this other uh... special... pony I know.”

“Why would I be?” Luna asked curiously, and then she frowned a bit more and leaned forwards, asking quietly as Cadence and Shining argued: “And pray tell, why have you left Shining Armor in such a state? The only reason I do not reveal your presence is out of respect for Cadence, and her excellent judgment of character.”

“I... I gotta get to Twilight Sparkle! She fou if she think that this whole experiment is a good idea!” La Croix answered in what was almost a quiet hiss, looking worriedly in the direction of Shining Armor again. “But big boy there won't listen to a damn word I say 'bout his sister, and Celestia gone and told me already she don't think nothing wrong. Well. I didn't get much of a word in edgewise before Monsieur Armée chased me out...”

Luna looked thoughtful at this, and then she sat back and sipped slowly at her tea, mumbling: “Celestia has been rather... stuffy lately. She won't even take tea with us.”

“Who... who is that? Who are you?” Shining Armor's voice came suddenly, and then he groaned, looking over at Cadence as he asked almost desperately: “Please tell me you aren't making some game of this, Cadence, I... I appreciate you trying to see the good in everyone but... look, you, put down the newspaper! Let me see your face!”

La Croix swallowed thickly... and then a wild idea came to mind, the stallion flicking his head forwards to send his hat down to the floor, where it thankfully landed opening-up. He wiggled his rear hooves into this as Cadence said hurriedly: “Shining, just calm down, really. Look at you, you're getting all worked up over-”

Shining only strode forwards, leaning over the table and baring his teeth at the newspaper before he reached out and snatched it away with such violence that it all-but-exploded, sheets of paper flying in all directions.

And then the Captain of the Guard was left staring in shock when he saw no one was seated at the table. And even if his vision was still too fuzzy to make out a lot of things, it was kind of hard to miss all that empty space, and the empty chair, and...

Shining Armor's eyes widened, and then he ducked under the table... but he didn't see anything there, either. And a moment later, he yelped when Cadence grabbed the back of his mane and jerked him up, the stallion grinning lamely at her as she asked moodily: “You happy now? Now, unless you want to join us for tea, Shining... and I'd be more than happy to get you some more appropriate attire... why don't you go back to work? You know how important my teas with Princess Luna are!”

“I uh... yeah. I'll... dammit, he must have gone to the kitchens. Cadence, please, please remember that this guy is dangerous, don't... go trying to make friends, okay?” Shining almost begged, and then he winced when Cadence only patted his helmeted head... or more aptly, knocked several times on his skull.

“Don't worry about me, Shine. You go stop the big bad villains from taking over Equestria. And I'll have tea with the Princess so she doesn't turn into Nightmare Moon.” Cadence replied pleasantly, and Shining grumbled under his breath and headed for the door as Princess Luna gave the rose-hued winged unicorn a dry look.

But no one spoke again until the door closed... and then Luna said moodily: “I hope you are correct about this zebra, Cadence. And I do so wish you would not use me as an excuse.”

“I'm sorry, Luna. Again. But it works really well. And you like pranks... think of this as part of the cost of playing a prank.” Cadence said helpfully, and then she softened a bit and added quietly: “And I felt it. He was a lot more scared of Shining than Shining was of him... besides, you saw my hubby. He's a tank. He could survive the sun being dropped on him.”

Cadence stopped, then frowned a little and asked uncertainly: “But uh... where did that zebra go? You didn't hide him with your magic, did you, Luna?”

Luna shook her head, then pointed under the table, and Cadence frowned a bit before she spotted La Croix's hat, sitting innocently by his chair. Then she reared back in shock when something came bursting up out of it, ramming into the bottom of the edge of the table before flopping back against the chair with a tremendous bang to knock it crashing backwards in a hail of splinters.

La Croix howled and clutched at his head as the table flopped loudly over to one side, spilling tea and porcelain and everything else off in a hail. Cadence winced away from this storm of trinkets, while Luna only sat back a little, her saucer in one hoof and her teacup in the other, the mare calmly sipping from this before she said mildly: “He is right here, Princess Cadence.”

“Thank you, Luna. You're wonderfully helpful.” Cadence gave the sapphire mare a wry smile, then she shook her head quickly before returning her eyes to La Croix, who was currently sprawled on his back and clutching at his throbbing head as he whimpered weakly. “Uh... are you okay? And who are you, exactly?”

“I... can't answer all trois of y'all at once. Gimme...” La Croix flopped back, wheezing quietly... and then he blinked in surprise as he felt a sudden, welcome warmth run through his body, relaxing his muscles and taking away his pain before he rose his head as quickly as he could.

Cadence was only smiling at him, her horn glowing warmly before the magic faded from it, and she asked him gently: “Is that better, Mister Zebra?”

“Uh... yeah. Merci, lady... guess y'all might not be so bad after all...” La Croix hesitantly sat up, then brushed his cape off before he picked his hat up and put it on his head with a nervous frown. “But this ain't a trick, right? 'Cause I been dealing with you ponies for the last month or so, and it ain't been a fun experience. Y'all have done everything from acting like ignorant little babies to tryin' to drown me. All y'all ponies are crazy.”

Luna snorted in amusement at this, muttering: “At least you don't take the blame for everything in Equestria going wrong, as I happen to be. But, as Cadence likes to point out, it at least is an excuse to indulge bad behavior. If I'm going to be blamed for it, I might as well go ahead and be guilty.”

“Luna, this isn't how we make good first impressions.” Cadence chastised, and Luna shrugged a bit before the rose-hued mare turned her eyes back to La Croix, softening a bit. “I can feel the emotions and the intentions of others around me. It's a natural ability that I've honed over time... I can tell you don't really want to hurt anyone here. And I feel a very strange... presence around you...”

“Don't look too hard, missy. You gonna have cauchemars.” La Croix said wryly as he picked himself up, and then he grimaced as he absently cracked his back before muttering more to himself than them: “I ain't gonna complain. I know I come too damn far to complain or give up, after all, so... best I just make the best of all this.”

The zebra hesitated, then he looked up and continued uncomfortably, reaching up to toy nervously with his necklace: “But well... I ain't really got time to explain all this to y'all, either. I gotta go and stop Twilight Sparkle. Otherwise, she gonna disrupt the cycle with this nonsense...”

Cadence only tilted her head, but Luna frowned a little at this before shaking her head briskly and muttering: “Nonsense. All she's trying to do is the equivalent of pulling back the blinds on another world... if there would be any connection, 'twould be... I mean, it would be very minimal.”

La Croix chuckled quietly at this, looking over at Luna and giving a wry grin: oh yes, she was different indeed from the Luna he'd met. “Warms my heart to hear you say that. It tells me lots about you... like how you missin' something real important-like. When you turn the lights on real bright, and you open up a window... you make it real clear just where you are, and give a glimpse of what's on the other side. And the big bad boogeyman, the demons in the dark, the loup-garou... what's gonna stop them from breaking in once they know their prey's inside?”

Luna stared at him, and Cadence blinked before the rose-hued mare shook her head quickly, asking uneasily: “You can't mean... you don't mean there's actually something... on the other side that can look back at us, right? I mean, we know a little about connected worlds; Twilight was curious if there was something beyond that, though, she said it was possible there were other realms we weren't aware of...”

“Oh, you don't got no idea what else there is out there. You don't wanna know, either. Believe me, I've... been to a few of the less-nice ones, and they ain't pretty.” La Croix said grimly, shaking his head before he stood up and shook himself quickly. “So look. I thank y'all kindly for your help, but I gotta get goin' now. Either of you be kind enough to point me in the right direction?”

Luna looked down for a moment, and Cadence leaned forwards, saying quickly: “I know, let's go talk to Celestia! You'll never get to Twilight... weird... time-traveler zebra... she's behind too many layers of magic protection that-”

“Only another princess may break. I shall bring you there, strange creature, if you will bear my presence.” Luna said calmly, and Cadence blinked in surprise before Luna turned her eyes back to La Croix, stating quietly: “But I need proof that you've seen what you say you've seen.”

La Croix groaned loudly at this... and then he gritted his teeth before popping his hat off his head, grumbling: “Then 'scuse me for a moment while I pull a lapin out of my chapeau.”

La Croix whirled his hoof over the brim of the hat, closing his eyes and concentrating on a call to his brethren, not knowing what was going to happen before he plunged his hoof down into the hat... and then he gritted his teeth and hauled upwards. Part of him expected nothing to happen: the rest of him never expected Cimetaire and Samedi to come to his aid in the way that they did.

Black streaks of smoke exploded up out of the hat, whirling around La Croix before transforming into malformed, mutilated zebras that cackled as they charged through the air around the room, Cadence giving a shriek of fear as Luna winced back in horror, her eyes widening with disbelief. And La Croix swore under his breath, watching the grisly spirits rollick and roll through the room, smashing against walls, clattering over the floor, dragging themselves even against the ceiling as they spread poison to everything they touched.

Then two of them lunged down, landing on either side of Cadence and laughing at her, baring their yellowed teeth, their rotted gums, glaring with their poisonous eyes as she screamed and curled up, unknowingly feeding the spirits with her fear. The other two continued to dance around the room as Luna's eyes blazed and her horn began to light up, but then La Croix rose his hoof high and roared: “Hey! Y'all best back off for now! Y'all go back home, you hear? Allez! Allez!”

The spirits growled and hissed at him, but then they nodded sulkily, taking to the air and returning quickly towards La Croix's hat. They vanished into it, and the stallion scowled a little before he looked down and grumbled: “Y'all are just determined to make me look as bad as possible, ain't you two? Suppose I should say merci all the same, though... they did at least listen to me.”

“What the hell was that?” Cadence asked in a shrill voice as she sat up, her multi-tone hair gone from perfectly curled to a frazzled mess around her face.

“That is what y'all have to look forwards to if Twilight opens that portal. And that's the best case scenario.” La Croix replied grimly, shaking his head briefly.

Cadence mouthed wordlessly in response to this, and then Luna scowled before muttering: “Proof enough. Cadence, you must consult with my sister. Whether or not she will listen, bring her to the upper halls, where Twilight is conducting her experiment. La Croix, you shall come with me: to prevent us being slowed, I shall cloak you in an illusionary shell. Do you understand what this means?”

“Ain't the first time I've played dressup.” La Croix grunted, and when both mares looked at him, he scowled back at them. “Hey, don't go makin' any cheap jokes. Let's just get moving. We don't got time for none of this.”

“I don't entirely trust you, whatever you are...” Luna studied him moodily, but then she nodded briefly, giving a quiet sigh. “But as Cadence always says, I must strive to be better than those who have hurt me, so I will... lead you forwards, all the same.”

La Croix grunted, then he tilted his head towards her before saying dryly: “You don't have to trust me none, don't you worry 'bout that. You can see for yourself once we get there. But allons-y! We gotta get moving!”

Luna scowled a bit, but then she nodded, sighing as she carefully put her teacup down. And Cadence bit her lip for only a moment before the rose-hued mare muttered: “I really hope I'm not making a mistake here. I really hope you're being honest.”

The zebra only grinned at this, however, saying ruefully: “Darlin', honesty be just words, and words just be the things you use to get other people to do what you want them to. But I ain't playin' y'all for suckers this time. This time, unfortunately, I'm the sucker, for lettin' myself get talked into this. Now come on, come on! Can't let Zecora do everything, she ain't never gonna let me live that down if she gets to Twilight Sparkle first.”

Luna gave a dry smile, and then the Princess of the Night nodded calmly as Cadence sighed, the rose-hued mare biting her lip for a moment before she muttered: “You two get going, then. I'll talk to Celestia, and see if I can head off Shining and talk a little bit of sense into him. But he's bullheaded about his family, especially Twilight. He probably won't listen to even me... what did you-”

“I guess y'all didn't hear me when I said we had to go now.” La Croix said crankily, and without another word, the zebra spun around and headed to the door, leaving Cadence watching dumbly as Luna sighed and followed after the stallion, the sapphire mare feeling a strange shiver run down her spine as she wondered what the stallion really wanted... and what he really was.

Singular Rapture

Chapter Eight: Singular Rapture
~BlackRoseRaven

Zecora hadn't had much trouble navigating Canterlot: La Croix had distracted quite a lot of the guards, and she had some knowledge of these halls from previous visits here. There were only a few light patrols that she had to slip past, and a few clusters of servants and other employees of the castle that she was able to walk right by: as long as she made herself look like she belonged there, they didn't question her.

She made the upper levels quite easily, and she was surprised to find there were only a few guards on duty: she guessed that it was at least in part because the security had been increased so much along the lower levels and throughout the kingdom. But the zebra was well aware that the Royal Guard weren't the only defenses of this castle...

Zecora frowned a little as she stepped into a long hallway, guarded by statues that lined either side of the corridor. She bit her lip for a moment, then shook her head quickly before murmuring to herself: “There's a sense here of magic that's rather intense... but where is the trigger that will cause the trap to commence?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth... and then she smiled slightly as her eyes caught on a faint, vague shimmer. “Of course, a magical barrier is present... a solid defense that would make any interloper hesitant...”

Zecora reached back into her satchel, digging in it for a moment before she pulled out a small flask, and then she closed her eyes and took a slow breath, murmuring a short prayer before uncorking the vial and knocking it back in one gulp. Then she gritted her teeth, pain wracking her entire body and making her shiver violently before she forced herself to lunge into a sprint, charging straight down the hall as fast as her freezing-cold body could carry her. She ran through the barriers without even noticing them, the magical safeguards not so much as flickering at her passage.

She hit the doors at the other side and dropped herself against them with a gasp of pain, trembling a little before slumping a bit as she felt a horrible crawling sensation passing over her skin, something that was between bleeding and sweating...

The mare arched her back, gritting her teeth and refusing to cry out, in spite of all the agony ripping through her system... but within moments, the pain began to quickly fade away as the coldness seemed to ooze out of her body, leaving her covered in icy sweat as her muscles throbbed painfully and she gasped quietly for breath.

After a few minutes, she straightened and shook herself out: her muscles still felt rubbery, but they would start to feel more normal once she got moving. And more than that, she couldn't rest for too long anyway. Even if security was lower up here, she knew there were still patrols... and likely other defenses as well, just waiting to be set off.

Zecora shook her head briefly, then sighed as she turned around, pushing the door open to enter a long, gently-sloped corridor. It curved gradually as it ramped upwards, and Zecora felt a strange tingling sensation as she looked along the smooth marble floor, the polished basalt walls... “What a strange design we have here... it makes it a little too obvious something is wrong, I fear.”

The mare glanced down at the floor... and then her eyes narrowed slightly as she muttered: “No, the floor's not smooth in all places... I see hidden tiles, pressure pads, other traces...”

The zebra slowly began to walk forwards, keeping her eyes on the floor as she continued to murmur to herself: “Some of these defenses are almost childish in their design... but they also serve as a much more malevolent sign. Well, perhaps saying that is a little extreme; but then again, things aren't always as easy as they seem...”

Zecora's eyes flicked back and forth, and then she carefully stepped over a badly-hidden pressure pad before pausing for a moment and looking back and forth. Yes, it looked like there were all manner of traps hidden along this hall... she had no doubt she was on the right path, but... even if the ponies had designed something that might belong in a silly cartoon to help protect this project of Twilight's, the danger was still very real. Zecora had no doubt that plenty of these traps would stun, immobilize, or injure her... in fact, a few of them might even be lethal.

The zebra shook her head briefly as she continued onwards, her eyes flicking back and forth uncomfortably as she continued onwards and upwards. She made it to the end of the long, curving corridor after some twenty minutes, halting in front of a golden set of double doors that were securely locked... but the mare only tested the handle briefly before digging in her pack and muttering: “I suppose I could say this is my liquid lockpick... but that's laying on the euphemism a little thick.”

Zecora produced a jar of some brackish, yellowish substance, calmly unscrewing the lid before she splashed some of it over the handle of the door: immediately, the metal knob began to steam violently, rapidly melting away into sludge as the wood of the door itself seemed to try and curl away from the decaying steel.

Something inside the frame gave away, and the heavy double doors fell ajar with a clank. Zecora gave a slight smile at this, then she carefully pushed one of the doors the rest of the way open, carefully studying the room beyond for a moment before stepping into what felt suspiciously like a checkpoint.

Yes, that's what this was: there were places for people to wait, for the guards to sit, what she guessed was some kind of magic-powered scanning device... this was some kind of clearance area. But why it had been abandoned now, she didn't know: if the area above was supposed to be off limits, wasn't that all the more reason to have soldiers on duty here?

Zecora frowned a little, lowering her head thoughtfully before a strange thought came to her mind: she knew that Twilight would prioritize two things. One was the safety of others, and the second was her quest for knowledge. Maybe Twilight knew that her experiment could be dangerous. Maybe Twilight wanted to go ahead anyway, because she was convinced the possible gain was well-worth the risks involved. Maybe...

The mare shook her head shortly. No, it wouldn't do any good to just sit here and try and guess at Twilight's motives, and whether they were fair or foul. For now, all she could do was try and keep herself moving forwards, and hope that either she or La Croix were able to reach Twilight in time to stop her from making a terrible mistake.

La Croix grumbled as he walked along, looking back and forth warily as they passed by patrols of soldiers and other ponies who passed too close for comfort. The zebra was well aware that the illusionary shell protecting him, making him look like some large, burly demon-bat-pony-thing, wouldn't stand up very well to a whole lot of jostling. And if this glammer broke, then he'd probably be very quickly grabbed and hauled off. And this time, he'd probably get that beating he'd expected when the guards had first snatched him up.

Princess Luna had a stoic expression on her features, head raised high, moving with a calm dignity about her that annoyed the hell out of La Croix. Well, in any other situation he'd respect it, but in this case, even as regal and majestic as she was... “You move 'bout as fast as a limace.”

“Quiet. Your accent is even more atrocious than the way these ponies of present day speak. Besides, if we hurry, we'll be noticed, and likely slowed even more.” Luna muttered, keeping her pace steady before she scowled a bit as they approached a set of large, ironclad double doors. They were flanked by a pair of particularly-large Royal Guards... but who were also apparently trying not to stare too much at Luna and her companion, one of them giving the minutest trembles.

Luna looked between the two, and then she said clearly: “I require passage with my attendant. Open these doors and let us through.”

“Your highness, not to be rude, but... Princess Twilight Sparkle gave us very specific orders, under the authorization of Princess Celestia... everyone's supposed to stay out of the gallery levels today. The experiment is going to begin soon.” one of the guards said nervously.

Luna glared at them, while La Croix winced a bit and gritted his teeth, swearing under his breath: it was already starting? But Bondye had given him a full month, and he was supposed to have at least a few days left... or dammit, had that been part of this big mockery of a test all along? After all, La Croix knew that if he'd been left to deal with all this on his own, he would have procrastinated until the last second and then made some stupid, mad dash to try and fix things...

Then he stared as the sapphire mare rose her head imperiously before thundering: “Are you forgetting who you are speaking to? I am Luna, and I am still Princess of the Night, and I am still one of the matriarchs of this kingdom!”

Both Royal Guards quailed away, and La Croix couldn't help but grin a little, muttering: “Maybe you are more like that other fou mare than I thought. But we gonna get along fine, so long as we on the same side.”

“For now.” Luna muttered without looking back at La Croix, and then she rose her head and ordered sharply: “Open these doors immediately, I will not repeat myself again!”

The Guards both yelped, then scrambled hurriedly around and all-but-rammed into the iron doors, pushing them inch-by-inch open. Luna sniffed loudly as the doors parted, then she strode calmly forwards, and La Croix followed quickly in her wake through the iron gates.

A moment later, the doors slammed shut behind them, leaving them in a long corridor guarded only by statues. La Croix grinned as he started to stride past Luna... but the sapphire mare quickly held a foreleg out, stopping him as she muttered: “There are other defenses set up in case of emergency here, strange one. It will take me a few moments to disarm them.”

Luna's horn began to glow, and La Croix grimaced before he nodded moodily. His glammer vanished as the sapphire mare turned her concentration towards other things, but the stallion only absently brushed at himself before he glanced up in surprise as the princess asked quietly: “So what precisely are you, creature? You wear the guise of a zebra, but you clearly are not one... and I do not believe I even know your name.”

The zebra shrugged, and then he glanced down the hall and scowled: not at Luna's curiosity, but rather at all the magic barriers and tripwires that suddenly became visible in reaction to Luna's magic. “Damn, y'all really did want to keep everyone out. But I am Baron La Croix, a Loa of Darkwater... you know what that is, or do I gotta explain it to you?”

“I've been mistakenly blamed for voodoo rituals in the past. I know what Darkwater is.” Luna said moodily, and La Croix couldn't help but laugh. For a moment, the sapphire mare's eyes flicked towards him, glaring at him... but then she seemed to relax a bit, giving the smallest of smiles as she muttered: “Yes, I suppose that would indeed amuse you. But the ponies link almost all superstitions to the night... they don't like to believe that even more spirits and demons gallivant around through the bright day than during the darker hours.”

La Croix grunted, then he watched as several of the barriers flickered out before Luna grimaced slightly, muttering: “This magic has been reinforced by Twilight Sparkle... her magical ability is very powerful, more so than she realizes, perhaps even more than I or my sister know. I begin to understand how she may be in danger... she may do much more than simply draw the curtains back with this magic she is attempting, if she is not precise.”

The stallion scowled at this, and then Luna hesitated before looking over at the Loa, asking quietly: “So you spoke of Zecora. Did she sense this abnormality, then summon you here to help?”

“Nope. And none of your damn business, that's why.” La Croix said stiffly, but when Luna gave him a pointed look, he shifted a bit before mumbling: “Oh, fine, sure. No, I got sent here... as punishment, if you really gotta know, madame curieux. Now stop askin' me questions. I don't got my powers but that ain't gonna stop me from workin' a cunja on you.”

Luna scowled at him, then she looked ahead and muttered: “And ponies think that my dialect is strange. I don't even understand yours.”

“Hey, taisse-toi. There ain't no problems with the way I speak. It's just that I speak three languages so well they all get mixed together sometimes, y'see? But if I have to, I can be real fancy like. I be fluent. I just don't like to waste my time with it.” La Croix defended lamely, and then he grumbled and looked ahead, watching as several more magic barriers vanished. “This all seems real suspicious, by the way.”

“We were concerned about intruders. Ponies can be curious, and we have other enemies. It does not hurt to be prepared.” Luna replied, and then she shook her head and added, as the last few protective wards vanished and the glow around her horn died out: “But as we draw closer to the gallery where Twilight has set up her experiment, we will discover fewer defenses against interlopers, and more that are designed to contain magical energies if triggered.”

“Great.” La Croix grumbled, and then he fell in step with the Princess of the Night as she started down the hall, the stallion asking after a moment: “So why you so damn moody?”

“It is a long story, and I really do not desire to delve into it.” Luna paused, then gave a dry smile. “Of course, nothing proves what you are so much as your asking that question. My past is quite well known throughout Equestria. It is a cruel one.”

La Croix snorted in amusement at this, looking ahead and muttering: “Believe me, lady. Y'ain't the worst out there. I dealt with a much-worse...”

Luna frowned at him, and La Croix shook his head quickly, giving her a wry grin. “Never you mind now. I don't care what y'are, you don't get no preview of what be out there. Just believe me... you ain't gonna regret nothing greater than lettin' it in to this world, just so you can get a glimpse of what be beyond this little cove.”

The Princess of the Night studied him intently for a moment... then she shook her head briefly before turning her eyes forwards as they reached the end of the corridor, the mare saying finally: “I'll open the lock. Give me a moment.”

The stallion only grunted, standing back... and then he scowled as his hat wiggled a bit on his head, reaching up to quickly still it. He could sense the spirits getting restless in there: sooner or later, he was going to have to either send them all the way back to Darkwater or let them loose to 'exercise' a little. It made him a little worried, though, that Samedi and Cimetaire had gone so far out of their way for him... sure, it wasn't actually all that much, with what the Loa could do, but at the same time...

La Croix shook his head briefly, then he only watched moodily as Luna calmly inserted her horn into what he'd thought was a keyhole in the door: it looked like he was right, although he was surprised to see what precisely the key was.

Light spread through the door, and then it clanked loudly as Luna pulled her horn back before the gate slid up into the ceiling. La Croix grinned a bit... then stared in disbelief as he only saw another long hallway beyond before he glared over at Luna, asking flatly: “The hell is this? How much longer do we gotta walk?”

“Patience, La Croix. Perhaps you didn't notice, but the Castle is a very large place.” Luna replied calmly, giving a brief shake of her head. “Twilight wanted to be as secure as possible. The magic academy would have been preferable, but she requires too much space, and there are already too many experiments going on within its walls. The galleries are rarely used, and the upper levels were easily temporarily evacuated.”

“Great.” La Croix muttered, following after the sapphire mare as she strode into the next corridor, and then he sighed a little, lowering his head and only hoping that Zecora was doing better than he was.

Zecora frowned as she emerged from a staircase, feeling a chill run down her spine, a tingling in every nerve of her body. Something was terribly wrong, and she could feel whatever it was growing more malignant as time wore on. She was becoming afraid that no matter what they did, she and La Croix wouldn't be able to stop whatever was going on... and she was afraid that maybe Twilight Sparkle wasn't doing this purely out of her own desires.

The zebra took a few steps down the hall... then stopped and looked with disbelief at a statue as it shuddered violently before ripping itself free of the ground. She stared with horror as its eyes lit up with poisonous light, its stony features cracking as they twisted into a revolting grin, and then the statue of some earth pony hero began to stagger towards her, even as cracks spread further through its rocky hide and its brittle limbs threatened to crumble beneath it.

Zecora swore under her breath, then reached quickly back into her satchel and yanked out a large, hide-wrapped horn, yanking the cork out of the end of the heavy container. She poured some of the substance into one hoof even as the statue loomed towards her, then muttered a prayer as it reached out before she sharply blew the dark goofer dust into the statue's face.

It reared back as if struck, and then the animated stone figure cringed and began to smoke violently, dark stains spreading through the rock. Its mouth tore open, cracks ripping through the skull as it screamed silently, and then the stone figure simply collapsed into dust and gravel as steam and ashes wafted up out of the broken thing's remains.

“That was not a spirit from the pony's world... from the dark depths of my homeland that shade was hurled.” Zecora shivered a little, then shook her head violently before she cautiously corked the skin, then simply hung it around her neck instead of putting it back in the bag. “I'll have to be careful from here on out... but Darkwater is involved here, of that I have no doubt.”

The mare continued slowly forwards, trying not to concentrate on that poisonous essence in the air: it was trying to draw all her attention in, make her forget about the world around her. But whatever it was, it was also still a good distance away, while she was now aware there were more dangers than just the wards and traps that had been set up throughout the halls.

But if there were any other spirits, they were keeping their distance now. She was glad: she only had a limited supply of goofer dust, and she didn't want to waste too much of it on phantasms. At least it seemed like they had to try and act through objects to hurt her...

Near the end of the hall, a second statue came to life, possessed by another evil force: but now that she was prepared, the mare had all the time she needed to ready the goofer dust. And this time, she didn't use a weak exorcism, but a powerful hex, wanting to make it clear she wasn't going to waste her time with these childish games.

The goofer dust blew over the statue, and it flinched... and then the spirit screamed in agony as the stone burst into blue flames, rapidly crumbling into pieces and leaving the mangled spirit of a zebra behind, the specter flailing helplessly as hellfire ripped over its body before it too became nothing more than burnt embers. These vanished with the blue flames before they could even hit the ground, and Zecora shook her head before calling clearly: “I am not afraid of whatever you might send! And I swear that I will bring this charade to an end!”

There was only silence in response, and Zecora nodded firmly before she turned towards the doors and pushed them open. And she shivered at the magic she felt wash over her body the moment she did: a powerful, dangerous magic that felt strangely unbalanced...

The mare hurried forwards... then skidded to a halt with surprise as she saw Princess Luna approaching from the other side of the hall with La Croix. Her eyes widened at this sight, and La Croix blinked before laughing and calling out to her in his patois.

Zecora ran forwards, and La Croix grinned as he leapt past Luna, the zebras hurrying towards other before the stallion suddenly blushed a bit and skidded to a halt... but Zecora grabbed him in a tight hug without reserve, murmuring: “And here I was thinking you wouldn't make it... but you convinced the princesses to stop this, I take it?”

“Only myself and Cadence, but Cadence has gone to speak to Celestia now, Zecora.” Luna replied calmly, shaking her head briefly as she approached... then gave the slightest smile at the two, as La Croix simply sat awkwardly, only looking at Zecora with the faintest blush in his cheeks.

The stallion gazed silently over the mare before he bit his lip... then closed his eyes and finally reached a foreleg up to return the embrace. It looked forced, at best... but Zecora felt him pull her tight against his body, felt the faintest trembles, and felt...

The two shifted, then quickly pulled apart, looking at each other before the stallion cleared his throat... then scowled down at the skin of goofer dust hanging around her neck, asking uneasily: “Hey. Why you carrying around that black magic dust again? You usually more the gris-gris type.”

“I know both sides of my craft, Baron La Croix. You need both sides of a whole to use one half without flaw.” Zecora replied pointedly, and then she turned her eyes towards Princess Luna and bowed her head respectfully: “I welcome you here, Princess of the Night. But I warn you now, it might be better if you took flight.”

“No... I have felt it too, since La Croix and I reached this floor. There is a dark, evil magic at work here. We must rescue Twilight from its grip and stop her experiment. It is my duty, as a ruler of Equestria.” Luna replied calmly, raising her head high. “Besides, you both may have need of my magic. Who knows what we will see?”

“I have some idea of that...” Zecora grimaced, then frowned over at La Croix as he scowled suddenly and reached up to grab his cherished headgear. “Wait, what is it you have in your hat?”

“Spirits. Mes frères sent 'em to me to put a scare into the princesses and prove I am what I say I am.” La Croix absently patted the side of his top hat a few times, adding moodily: “Dunno why they sent me these ones, though. They ain't even poltergeists. Just fear ghosts.”

Zecora frowned darkly at this for a moment, and then she said uneasily: “I too have run into ghosts here, my friend... I encountered enraged spirits, just around the bend.”

“What? Nonsense, Canterlot is protected against such things. No ghost could enter these halls... at least, not those of ill intent.” Luna scoffed, shaking her head before she turned to point at a set of double doors. “Look, just through there is where Twilight Sparkle is. We should not waste time on this chatter, but instead stop her before it is too late!”

La Croix only held up a hoof, however, saying sharply: “You just hold your cocodrils there, Madame Lune. Cher, what do you mean, enraged spirits? You don't mean like I'm talkin' about, right?”

Zecora shook her head, muttering: “That's hard for me to say, but I'm going to venture no... these spirits possessed physical objects to try and inflict woe.”

La Croix blinked... then scowled darkly before glaring up at the ceiling, muttering: “Yeah, I see Bondye be real interested in protecting the cycle then... since there ain't no witchdoctors around here who could do that kind of magic, and I doubt any of these ponies practice Bò, I'm gonna guess they had to be sent by someone up top in Darkwater itself. Not that I'm makin' any accusations now... just reasonin' it out, hear?”

The zebra stallion shifted uneasily... and then Zecora shook her head before gesturing quickly at the doors, saying calmly: “Luna is right though, there's no point in waiting... go ahead with her, and I'll ward the doors while you're investigating.”

La Croix bit his lip nervously... but then Luna gave him a small smile and said quietly: “I am sure she can take care of herself. Zecora has helped us on more than one occasion, La Croix, and always proven most capable. We have to go.”

“You're right, you... dammit, I ain't good at this. I ain't no hero.” La Croix grumbled, and Zecora gave him a soft smile, shaking her head slowly.

“No, you are not, my special friend... and that's the way I'd prefer it to stay until the end.” Zecora said quietly, and La Croix gave her an awkward smile before she simply gestured with her head for him to go.

The stallion nodded a little, then he awkwardly tipped his hat to her before turning and hurrying after Luna as the Princess strode towards the doors. La Croix risked a glance back over his shoulder, but all he saw was Zecora digging back through her satchel... before he blushed horribly when the Princess of the Night said mildly: “If you care for her so much, then tell her so.”

“Taisse-toi!” La Croix snapped as the mare flicked her horn, pushing the double doors open with telekinesis, and then he stormed into the hall beyond, grumbling: “Y'all are so damn stupid and nosy, you... stupid, nosy ponies, y-”

“La Croix, stop!” Luna shouted, leaping forwards, but it was too late: the stallion blinked dumbly in surprise as he set off some kind of alarm, looking back and forth wildly before he squawked when Luna pounded him with a telekinetic hammer, knocking him sprawling on his back.

A moment later, a massive steel gate crashed down where he had been standing a mere second before, and the stallion yelped as he leapt up and grabbed the iron bars of this, shaking them uselessly. Zecora and Luna ran up to the other side of the gate, looking back and forth over it before the sapphire mare muttered: “I do not know if I can lift this on my own... we will have to wait for Celestia. La Croix, I'm sorry, but... you have to go speak to Twilight alone.”

Luna paused, then leaned forwards, adding sharply: “But do not hurt her! Speak to her, reason with her, tell her what is wrong... she will stop this if she knows that it will end in evil!”

“Even if Twilight Sparkle is being driven by something dark... you have to save her, not put out her magic spark!” Zecora added sharply, and La Croix grimaced and shifted nervously back and forth on his hooves before the zebra mare added quietly: “La Croix, I believe in you, that you'll do what's right... but just because there's an easy solution, don't lose your moral sight.”

La Croix shook his head slowly... then he scowled at the two of them before he gave a brief smile, muttering: “Look at you two, actin' like you know me at all... I ain't no... well, okay, I guess I sort of am a death spirit, but I ain't that kind of death spirit. So you two just... stop worryin' your pretty heads. I'm gonna do what I gotta do. But I ain't gonna hurt no one who don't deserve it. I ain't no cocodril, I ain't no bête.”

The stallion sniffed disdainfully, and then he calmly turned around... even if every single part of him was afraid of what was waiting for him, beyond the door ahead. He breathed slowly, forcing himself not to look back even as he felt both Zecora and Luna silently urging him on, the stallion walking quickly to the door... then pausing just long enough to give a grin over his shoulder, hoping that they couldn't see his trembles or his cold sweat as he said with as much false enthusiasm as he could muster: “Well, you know what they say... laissez les bon temps rouler!”

Then he turned around and shoved the doors open, gritting his teeth and striding into the next room without looking back. He felt like he'd been swallowed up by destiny, like he no longer had any choice in what he was doing, but like something else was pulling him along, guiding his movements as the doors slammed shut behind him.

His throat was dry, his muscles were trembling, his stomach was twisting itself into knots. He felt horribly, terribly afraid. He felt like he wasn't ready in the slightest for this, as he slowly tried to make his eyes focus, as he tried to make his brain work just enough so that he could see where he was.

He guessed this was why they kept referring to this upper floor as the 'gallery:' that's precisely what this area seemed to be, a massive gallery hall. But most of the paintings and art had been removed, replaced with blueprints and scraps from old books and all kinds of hurriedly-scrawled notes. It looked like several lifetimes of work had gone into this...

And then La Croix shivered as he stared down at the end of the gallery: there, seated in front of a desk, scribbling away, was a mare. She was a winged unicorn, and she was working furiously away, not noticing La Croix even as he slowly approached. And she seemed so... young in his eyes, somehow. Her purple coat was so vibrant, her dark, frazzled mane looked like it belonged to a filly who had stayed up all night, studying for some silly test...

La Croix looked at her silently, more surprised than he'd wanted to admit: this wasn't a monster. This was just another stupid pony... and that malignant magic wasn't coming from her, either. No, he'd been so damn... convinced she was the source of this evil, that this was her fault and her screwups but...

The zebra slowly looked up, and he shivered violently as he saw the source of the evil. The mare had built a massive wooden ring and inset it with all kinds of gemstones, with an enormous glass lens in the center. It looked like a great glass eye, gazing blindly down over the two of them... and such hate, such malice, such evil intent radiated from it. And such powerful, twisted, familiar magic... La Croix shivered and bit his lip.

That terrible eye was on a platform of some kind, and he could see all kinds of runes and gemstones and the glow of feeble pony enchantments... but oh, their magic would never, ever be able to handle this old magic. He didn't care how powerful the pony who set them was: a cocodril wasn't going to stop trying to eat you because of a little splinter. But he doubted that Twilight was even aware of what had happened, as he looked at the burnished wood... then gritted his teeth before leaning forwards and shouting angrily: “I see you there! Hey, don't think I don't see you there, you lâche! Y'all get out of here now, you hear!”

La Croix couldn't actually see them clearly... but when he yelled at them he not only caused Twilight Sparkle to yelp and fall out of her chair in shock, he saw the flickers of light play around the massive lens as invisible specters shifted in surprise. And La Croix bared his teeth at these, reaching up and beginning to grab his hat as he growled: “You wanna play rough, mes amis? Oh, we can do this like we do back in the bayou, you-”

“Who the heck are you?” Twilight asked disbelievingly from the ground, and La Croix gave her a sour look before the violet mare took a sharp breath, trying to make herself as intimidating as possible... which La Croix thought was the equivalent of backstepping from 'adorable' to just 'cute.' “You had better get out of here right now or... or else!”

“Taisse-toi. I'm here to save you, actually, from makin' a big mistake... don't tell me you don't feel that evil mojo, that bad karma. You can't be that thick.” La Croix muttered, keeping one hoof on his hat as his eyes flicked back towards the portal ring.

Twilight Sparkle frowned uncertainly at this and immediately lost much of her bravado to confusion. She licked her lips, then she shook her head quickly, replying: “No, that's... I mean, it doesn't feel natural, but that's because I'm working with space-time magic... right?”

“Uh. No. Idiot.” La Croix said flatly, and immediately Twilight Sparkle was on her hooves, glaring challengingly at the zebra. He remained undaunted, however, glaring back at her for a moment before he pointed at the wooden ring. “Where'd you get that from?”

“Well, I... not that it's any of your business, but what you see here is the culmination of decades of research by unicorns from almost every different school of magic.” Twilight declared, straightening and nodding firmly, looking proud... almost defiant. “The idea that there are other planes of existence has been theorized for many years, especially considering what we know about the alternate universes that already exist. This 'seeing eye' ring was put together from the research of dozens of different ponies, and it even incorporates some of the original materials from their original prototypes!”

“Yeah. You real smart, lady.” La Croix said wryly, and Twilight looked proud of herself for a moment, completely missing his sarcasm before the zebra said dryly, as he pointed at the ring: “You recognize those runes still etched into that thing?”

Twilight frowned a bit, and then she said uncertainly: “They're from an old zebra religion, if I remember right... they're for channeling energy, right?”

La Croix laughed dryly, and then he said sourly: “You poor dumb ouaouaron. They ain't for channeling energy. They're for channeling the dead. You didn't just build yourself a looking glass... you built yourself the world's biggest Ouija board. Except the thing is, with all the magic you poured into this, with everything you've done here... this one actually works. In fact, it does a whole lot more than simply 'work...' it's already calling out to them. And I don't think you gonna like who I think must be trying to answer.”

Twilight stared in disbelief, mouthing wordlessly before she looked wildly between the portal ring and La Croix. The Loa only had his teeth grit, his eyes almost glowing as he felt that terribly-familiar, terribly-evil magic growing stronger... and then he scowled when Twilight Sparkle shouted at him: “Just who are you?”

“Me? You can call me La Croix.” the zebra grinned at Twilight as he leaned towards her, his eyes almost glowing, the violet mare wincing and rearing back from the sheer strangeness of the zebra. “And I be one of those spirits you attracted with that damn thing. And speaking of which...”

La Croix reached up and grasped his hat, then he pulled it off with a flourish and shouted: “Dinner time, y'all! Eat on up that magie du l'enfer!”

The spirits greedily leapt up out of his hat, and Twilight Sparkle threw herself backwards, staring in horror as the four ghosts whirled up through the air before diving eagerly straight at the portal. The violet mare shrieked and began to climb up to her hooves, but La Croix quickly reached out and seized her shoulder, and she looked at him with shock and froze beneath his grip.

La Croix only continued to look on, watching as the ghosts whirled and danced around this marvelous and malignant thing she had built, and yet feeling her pain, too, as what she thought was a glorious, stupendous idea was attacked in front of her eyes, was being ripped down for reasons he had no time to explain and she might never fully understand; as she watched her genius, her brainchild, ripped and ravaged and-

A terrible, powerful pulse erupted from the portal ring, shattering the glass lens in the center of it and turning the four spirits La Croix had unleashed into nothing but smoke. The stallion and the princess were both flung backwards by it, crashing to the floor almost halfway across the enormous gallery and falling prone in broken heaps with gasps of pain.

La Croix groaned in pain, reaching out to grab his hat from where it had fallen and putting it carefully back on his head as he picked himself up, while Twilight stared up with shining eyes at her machine, her creation: she didn't see the flickering creatures dancing around this maleficent thing, or the way her own protective wards were being torn apart and mutilated into vile new enchantments by the dark energies pouring out of the portal. All she saw was her greatest achievement bursting into life, as glowing light filled the eye of the ring... “Look at it! It's working, it's really-”

Cold air gasped out of the portal, washing over both stallion and mare, coating the floor and walls around the portal ring in solid ice. And Twilight fell silent, trembling and staring disbelievingly before several enormous shapes began to force their way out of the swirling vortex, and La Croix whispered: “Yeah, you right. It's working just fine, honeychile.

“But there ain't nothing you regret more than your life's greatest success.”

Ice Trap Aftermath

Chapter Nine: Ice Trap Aftermath
~BlackRoseRaven

Ice, and snow, and cold: that was what came first, warning La Croix of what was coming, even as every part of his body howled in denial and terror of it. He trembled in fear and shoved himself backwards as the monsters began to push their way into this reality, clawing out of the portal with savage grins despite the fact that it was clear the portal ring wasn't working precisely right: it was fragile, and the very act of them forcing entry to this world through it was causing it to break apart.

Except it wouldn't shatter fast enough... and the moment the first demon leapt down into the hall, La Croix knew it didn't matter. What he saw wasn't some lucky, low-class demon who had wandered across the rip in reality: it was something strong, something deadly, something that, now that it was here, could probably rip its own hole in reality and bring all his friends for a party...

And some of those eager friends were already forcing their way through the damaged portal ring, La Croix shivering in terror and Twilight shaking her head violently, mouthing wordlessly as the demon crawled forwards. It was a huge, spiky thing, with reptilian eyes and heavy, barbed scales over its body, forked tongue flicking lazily out to taste the air before it growled: “Oh yes. I think we're going to like it here just fine, boys... and look! Our welcome wagon even comes with a free lunch!”

One of the demons that had crawled through the portal laughed loudly at this: this one had maybe once been a pony, but now it was nothing but raw muscle, with spikes and blades of bone sticking up almost at random through its distorted, fleshy frame. “I don't know about that... they look more like snacktime to me!”

“This... this isn't happening, this... this can't be happening...” Twilight whimpered, dragging herself backwards as she stared in horror at these monstrosities... and others still were dragging themselves into reality, La Croix shivering and shaking his head weakly in disbelief. The only thing in their favor was the fact that the rest of the invaders seemed to be minor demons and pawns and servants of these two... but just these two themselves were more than he could handle. Hell, they might be more than all of this pretty pony country could handle.

“Look at them!” jeered the bigger one, Scales. “Look at this scared little girl-pony... not that the stripehorse seems any less afraid!”

Bones laughed loudly again, then he stepped forwards, his red eyes locking hungrily on La Croix. “But look closer... he's not just any normal stripehorse, now is he? No, this one is from the swamp the stripehorses worship... but oh, poor colt's all flesh and bones!”

La Croix gritted his teeth, and then he forced himself up to his hooves as the two demons casually approached. The other demons growled and rumbled behind them, waiting for one of their masters to give them an order, and La Croix shivered as he dared look past the two goliaths for a moment, glimpsing at least a dozen minor demons waiting for orders... and worse, the portal ring was still sparking and flickering, meaning there could still be others on the way.

The two demons stopped only a few feet away from him, looming over him, grinning down at him mockingly, and La Croix forced himself to look up at these two giants: Bones was at least double his size, and Scales was even larger than that. They both had big, sharp fangs, and were clearly strong and large enough to tear him in half in an instant if they wanted to.

And all the same, La Croix forced himself to glare up at them, dredging up some of that old not-quite-bravery, not-quite-stupidity he'd always had as he snapped: “Yeah, that's right, I'm a Loa! And y'all better just... go on back where y'all came from, or I'm gonna have to go down to see Nanny Hel and have a word with her 'bout you two!”

The demons traded looks at this, and then they both burst into laughter, La Croix wincing a bit as Bones chortled out: “D-Did you hear that? Oh no! He's... he's gonna tell on us!”

“To Nanny!” Scales added mockingly, and the two laughed even harder as La Croix grimaced, then gritted his teeth and leaned forwards, holding his ground in spite of the fact that they were bigger, stronger, scarier, but... dammit, he wasn't going to screw up and fail again!

“Taisse-toi, connards!” he shouted, and both demons blinked in surprise and looked down at him dumbly as he growled: “You listen up good. You two be big dumb cocodrils, but the cocodrils don't run the bayou alone, you hear? One big fou cocodril ain't gonna survive for long against a bayou full of serpents who want to choke him, crawdads who wanna pull off his scales, even little ouaouarons who gonna hop all over him every time he tries to sleep, make him even more fou than he already is! Don't matter that there one of you, don't matter that there two, don't matter that there a whole bunch of your little cheerleaders too! There be thousands of us, there be 'bout three of you when I add up your brainpower, so y'all scat, hear? Se perdre!”

The two demons looked down with disbelief at La Croix, who glared up at them defiantly, trembling with a strange mix of anger and fear... and then Scales simply held one claw out before mockingly flicking La Croix, and the stallion was knocked flopping onto his back with a squeak as the two demons looked down at him with cruel contempt.

“Well, looks like we got a tough little colt on our claws.” growled Scales, and then the enormous, draconic demon looked moodily over his shoulder at the portal, saying irritably: “So maybe the interference we picked up came from this little guy, not the idiot girl's tampering.”

“I... I...” Twilight Sparkle looked up helplessly, and Bones snorted in entertainment as Scales turned a mocking look down on her. “W-What are you?”

La Croix grimaced, looking over at the winged unicorn: he couldn't entirely blame her. The malice these two demons exuded... their presence alone was poisonous, toxic to those around them. And if he was quivering in his hooves, he couldn't imagine what kind of effect they were having on a little pony who had never encountered real demons, perhaps not even real evil before...

“We're your worst nightmare, little filly.” Bones said with cruel entertainment, and then he licked his teeth slowly, grinning after a moment. “You can have the stallion. I want her.”

Scales snorted at this, looking irritably over at Bones as Twilight whimpered and crawled backwards. But then she gritted her teeth, and La Croix was surprised as her horn started to glow, before she unleashed a blast of purple light straight at the scaled behemoth's head.

The ray of magical energy smashed into his cheek and knocked his head to the side as his eyes bulged... but it did little else, leaving only a faint bruise. Scales' expression of surprise slowly morphed into a furious snarl as he dug his claws into the floor, and Twilight's eyes widened in horror before she screamed when the demon turned suddenly towards her and leapt forwards, lashing a claw out.

On instinct, her horn glowed and created a shield of magical energy, and this was likely the only thing that saved her life: the demon's claw still smashed through it like it was made of glass, but it was deflected off to the side and slowed enough that it only ripped a few deep, savage tears through her leg, the violet mare crying out in agony and immediately trying to drag herself away. Bones, meanwhile, was only cackling even as Scales swore under his breath and stomped after the princess, angrily reaching after her as he spat: “You stupid little-”

A glass jar smashed into the side of the monster's head, making him flinch before he slowly turned his attention to La Croix, who trembled even as he forced himself to glare up at the monster. “Hey! You two best pick on someone closer to your own size, y'hear?”

“I guess that's you, little Loa. You must have a death wish.” growled Scales, and Bones snorted in amusement as the two demons focused on La Croix. Twilight whimpered, starting to drag herself slowly away, but without looking at her the reptilian demon added distastefully: “Now, don't you go too far, little girl. we'll get back to dealing with you in just a second. The stripehorse just doesn't seem to want to wait his turn to get sent back home, that's all.”

La Croix looked back and forth, gritting his teeth, trying to size up his situation. He knew they were powerful demons, but neither of them seemed too bright; their minions were still hiding in the background, and La Croix guessed that they were too scared to do anything. They were both aggressive, although Scales was angrier about it, and Bones just seemed to be taking great pleasure in watching Scales torment them... but then again, Scales had also been the one he'd been provoking. For all he knew, Bones could be the angrier of the two.

No, he couldn't start making wild guesses, he had to focus, he had to treat them like he'd treat any other pair of suckers that were bigger and brawnier than him! And since that had always been just about everyone, and La Croix had experience dealing with demons from his time as Helheim's ambassador...

“Well, at least the bigger, nastier one's gonna kill me. The other Loa gonna respect that, a big ol' first-class demon lord punchin' my ticket instead of the scrawny little soldier demon of his.” La Croix muttered loudly, even as he turned his head to make it seem like he was talking to himself.

Scales grinned at this, and Bones frowned a little before he suddenly glared over at the zebra, snapping: “Hey, wait a minute! What the hell did you just say?”

“The stripehorse knows who's better, that's all.” Scales said easily, tossing a nasty grin over at Bones. Then he turned his eyes back to La Croix, adding: “Although you know that flattery won't save your life.”

“He's mine then, not yours!” snapped Bones, stepping aggressively towards the other demon, and Scales' eyes flicked towards him darkly, the two glaring at each other for a few moments before the malformed, muscly demon said coldly: “And don't you forget which one of us is stronger. I was part of Hel's army! What were you?”

“Someone who never bowed his head to the rank and file to try and weasel his way out of punishment!” retorted Scales, and then he added nastily: “But I guess that I've never known what it must be like to be so small and weak.”

Bones snarled at this, rounding more towards Scales and growling: “You better watch what you say, or the first piece of meat I kill in this world is going to be you.”

Scales turned back towards Bones with a dark look in his eyes, and the moment La Croix was sure the two were distracted, he carefully slipped away towards Twilight Sparkle, who was whimpering and grasping at her leg, slowly going pale... from shock or blood loss, La Croix wasn't sure which.

He reached into his cape, fumbling through his various pockets before pulling out a small vial of glowing white potion, the stallion hesitating only a moment before he uncorked it. Then he almost roughly forced her head back and poured its contents into her trembling jaws, muttering: “Here. Drink this, then just get yourself out of here. Damn ouaouarons don't do nothing but get in the way, don't need you hopping into the middle of this and screwing things up.”

Twilight shivered, then gasped and grasped at her leg, looking down in amazement as the wound healed. Some of the color returned to her features, and she looked almost desperately up at La Croix before shaking her head violently, whispering: “There must be something I can do... you can't-”

“I can't, but I got to... you wouldn't understand!” La Croix growled, shaking her roughly once before he grimaced and looked back over his shoulder at the two arguing demons. “Get the hell out of here, while you still have a chance, get the other princesses or something and block off this place... just get! You leave this to me, y'hear?”

The violet mare winced a little at his forcefulness, but then she nodded uncomfortably, and La Croix grunted and half-shoved her on her way before he turned his eyes uneasily back to the two demons. They were still arguing, but he doubted it would be for long... and instead of waiting for one of them to either notice Twilight slipping away or realize what was going on, the zebra decided to make sure the two of them would have their claws plenty busy.

La Croix took a quick breath, then scuttled past Scales and Bones and straight towards the group of servant demons. These slaves growled and shifted when La Croix approached, and the zebra winced slightly, but refused to let them intimidate him: from their ratty armor and their emaciated, tortured bodies, he had a feeling they were a lot more bark than bite.

They were freakish-looking, like zombies but... fresher, with more claws, more skin, and a little less stink to them... but only a little. La Croix scowled a little as he looked over them, then he glanced over his shoulder, asking in a voice he tried to make halfway between insulting and naïve: “So which one of y'all felt he needed to bring reinforcements?”

Bones and Scales both looked towards the zebra, and then the smaller, deformed pony demon pointed immediately at the draconian monster, exclaiming with all the fervor of a small child: “Him! He did, he was afraid!”

“I was not.” Scales growled low in his throat in response, glaring down at Bones. “They're your soldiers... you're the one who has to surround himself with all these petty pawns. You act less like a proper wrath demon and more like a fearful little devil of sloth, too lazy to do anything yourself and always delegating all your work to these little toys.”

Bones glared up at Scales in response to this, then retorted icily: “Because unlike you, I don't need to waste my time killing little weaklings just to feel strong! That doesn't change the fact that if I wanted to, I could easily rip even a sad excuse for a demon like you into pieces!”

Scales bared his fangs dangerously, but then La Croix waved a hoof wildly to get the attention of the powerful demons before he turned back to the servants, poking at the closest demonic soldier absently. “So both of you are saying that these are the guys who do all the work, right?”

The lesser demon in front of La Croix growled angrily, but made no move to attack: the zebra was only thankful that the monsters apparently didn't dare to so much as breathe without their master's order. Scales and Bones, meanwhile, both glared furiously at the stallion as he only sat and did his best to look as innocent as possible.

And finally, Bones began to stride forwards, growling: “How about I show you just how unnecessary those little toys are, stripehorse?”

“Hey! I... I said hey!” La Croix yelped, ducking between the dozen or so minor demons, who growled and snarled... but as angry as they sounded, they looked less like they were trembling with rage and more like they were shivering in fear of Bones. “Hey, wait, can't we just talk about this?”

“Get out of my way!” Bones snapped as he slapped a minor demon aside like a toy. The other servants scattered like rats, but La Croix charged hurriedly after a trio of them, making like he was trying to hide in their wake.

Bones glared irritably after La Croix at this, then he said moodily: “Stop running away from me or I'll draw this out, stripehorse. And you really don't want me to draw this out. This is not a game.”

“Well, could we maybe make it one? Checkers be a lot more my speed and all!” La Croix almost begged as he ducked around the demons... and Bones simply plowed right through the pawns, trampling one and knocking the others aside, La Croix yelping and just managing to duck away when Bones grabbed at him.

“Stay still, stripehorse! And all of you, worthless scum, stop running around and grab him!” snarled Bones... but then he stopped and glared over his shoulder when Scales laughed loudly at him, even as the minor demons eagerly swarmed after La Croix.

“Look, you're proving everything I said about you, so weak and pathetic you can't even handle the little meatbag without help.” Scales chuckled, then he easily plucked up a demonic soldier as it ran by, the minor demon squealing until Scales calmly rose him to his mouth and bit off his head with a resounding crunch, chewing slowly with a cruel grin before he said through his mouthful of skull and broken helm: “While I clearly don't need them at all.”

The powerful demon dropped the pawn's body, and Bones trembled in fury, then glared over his shoulder when a demonic servant approached and dropped his head, rasping and gesturing eagerly over his shoulder at where his fellows had caught and pinned La Croix: “We captured him, sire, we-”

Bones stepped forwards and savagely stomped on the demon, crunching his body into the ground with two floor-shattering blows. The soldier was left as nothing but a bloody, broken smear, weakly gurgling from where he'd been mashed into the cement before the musclebare monster roared: “Don't interfere! In fact, get out of here, you're nothing but a waste of time and effort! Inform the rest of the army and wait for me to open a larger portal!”

“Because of course you can do that on your own.” Scales sneered, and one of Bones' eyes twitched before he whirled around, but the reptilian demon only smiled, completely unperturbed before he said calmly to the uneasy-looking servants: “The only reason you cannon fodder were brought here was to test the portal's stability. Go back through it and wait for one of us to open the portal. I'm sure the more capable one between us will.”

Bones snarled in fury at this, and then his eyes blazed with rage as he turned around and watched the minor demons uneasily shift again before obeying... and to the malformed pony-monster, it looked like they were obeying Scales more than they were him. He hissed over his shoulder at the massive reptile, but Scales only smiled mockingly back at him as their servants filed out, before Bones turned his eyes back towards La Croix and spat: “I've decided I'm not going to kill you, stripehorse. I'm going to make you my personal torture dummy.”

“Yeah, sure, blame the victim.” La Croix mumbled as he awkwardly pushed himself to his hooves, and then he grinned weakly, his legs trembling beneath him, his eyes locked on the two demons that he somehow had to fight... and yet he knew that just staying alive was going to take every trick in his repertoire.

Bones growled at him and rose his head high, as Scales laughed loudly, and La Croix quaked in fear. He had gotten rid of their little army of goons, and he could hear the portal groaning as the demons passed back through it... but those little minor demons were like passing sand through a mine tunnel. Maybe if he somehow tricked one of these goliaths into running back home, he could shatter the portal... but...

No. That would just make his problems worse. The moment these demons had stepped into this world, they had learned where it sat in the universe, so to speak. If he tricked one into going back to Helheim somehow, it would just build a new portal anchored in Helheim... and if a portal was built from there to here, La Croix would never be able to destroy it.

He knew what he had to do, even if the thought made him shiver harder: he had to somehow... kill them both. And even if he was a death spirit, he wasn't much of a killer. He left that sort of thing up to other people... oh, sure, he was fine with curses and hexes, with making people pay their dues, with a little torment here, a little agony there, but... but killing people? Sure, he'd talked a big game this whole time, he'd sworn up and down he'd be ruthless, he'd just kill that Twilight Sparkle if she did wrong, but... not even he could deny how relieved he'd been when he hadn't had to.

He was a Loa. Tried and true, he was a Loa at the end of the day, and not in the screwed-up sense he had made the word mean, with all the bastardizations he had taught the zebras who had moved away from their homeland, with all the misconceptions and misnomers he had gladly helped foster to give Bondye more of an edge and to fascinate and terrify the uninitiated all the more. No matter how many layers of paint he'd applied to himself, no matter how many sets of clothes he'd thrown on, no matter what you gave him – or more importantly, what you took away – at the end of the day he was a Loa who had been first created to serve He Above, not... not this... sideshow-freak couillon!

La Croix bared his teeth, dredging up all his pride and determination as he shouted suddenly, Bones and Scales both looking at him with surprise: “You know what? I ain't scared of either of you, so y'all go ahead and do your worst! Y'all ain't nothing but sissy little crapauds! Y'ain't nothing but pond scum! All y'are is dirt, and... and I ain't scared of you in the slightest, you... you dirt!”

Both demons stared at him with disbelief, and then Bones snarled in fury, his eyes blazing with rage before he roared and charged blindly straight for La Croix. The zebra flinched at this, but then reacted almost on instinct, knowing he had only one wild, stupid chance.

Bones leapt at him, and La Croix yanked off his hat, catching it under one foreleg before making a scooping motion with it just as Bones was about to collide with him. And in a blink, Bones was pulled into the depths of La Croix's hat before he was even aware of what was going on, Scales gaping in shock as the other demon seemed to simply vanish into thin air.

The zebra gritted his teeth as he stumbled backwards, then he steadied himself and quickly spun his hat around as he felt it almost vibrating in his hooves from the force of the creature he had just snared in it. He knew he didn't have much time and this probably wasn't going to do much more than piss the demons off further, but well... “And now, I gonna pull a lapin out of my chapeau!”

Scales snarled, beginning to lean forwards, but La Croix only grinned and punched his other hoof into the top of his hat. And with a tremendous bang and a burst of broken glass, ribbons, and torn balloon skin, Bones was shot out of the hat as if from a cannon, hurtling across the room to smash face-first into the reptilian demon's head.

They were both knocked crashing backwards, and La Croix gritted his teeth before he hurriedly tossed his hat down in front of himself and dug wildly in the half-crushed headcover, knowing that he'd likely turned half his supplies into wreckage with that little trick, but counting on the shock he had just given the two demons to be worth it.

Scales and Bones swore and clawed at each other like animals before they both looked furiously up at La Croix and clawed up to their hooves. La Croix, however, had already yanked a piece of chalk out of his hat and scrawled a large circle over the ground, which he was hurriedly filling in with lines and runes as Bones shouted furiously: “You're dead, stripehorse!”

“He's worse than dead.” growled Scales, and then the two demons shoved themselves apart before they both ran quickly forwards. La Croix looked up with a wince at this, swearing under his breath before he leapt sharply backwards out of the circle, just as Bones dove at him-

The demon's whole body convulsed as he passed over the circle, and he crashed face-first to the ground with a gasp, Scales skidding to a halt before the demonic pony looked up with fury burning in his eyes. And La Croix grinned widely as he stepped backwards, growling: “Y'all best not be forgetting I got my own tricks and traps. You demons ain't too smart.”

Scales only growled, then stepped forwards and slammed a punch down into the edge of the chalk circle, shattering the floorboards and destroying the runic trap. That didn't help Bones, however, who twitched weakly as he slowly forced himself up to his hooves before hissing: “I won't let your sissy little magic hurt me...”

“Seems like it already has, filly de putain.” La Croix retorted, and Bones bared his crooked fangs at him as La Croix flicked his hat back on his head, looking darkly back at the malformed demon. The trick had apparently had less of an effect than he'd hoped, but he was still glad he'd picked it up during one of his visits to Helheim: it would inhibit the demon's strength for a few minutes, balancing the odds a little bit more for La Croix.

But to the zebra's surprise, Bones didn't take even a moment to recover: instead, he broke into a sloppy charge, stumbling and staggering his way directly towards the Loa, his eyes glowing with berserk rage. La Croix staggered backwards with a wince, swearing under his breath before he grabbed wildly at his cape-

Bones smashed him across the face with one claw, sending La Croix crashing and rolling painfully across the floor. On instinct more than anything else, he barely managed to catch his hat in one hoof before scrambling backwards as Bones turned towards him with a snarl.

La Croix trembled, bleeding from a ripped lip and a torn-open cheek. His eyes watered, his body quaked, his resolve threatened to crumble away as Bones went into another stagger-run with a snarl of fury...

And then the pony-demon staggered to a halt as Scales growled: “Either kill him or give me a turn! It's no wonder he's making a fool out of a weakling like you, with all this wasting time!”

“I am not wasting time!” roared Bones, glaring over at Scales, and La Croix quickly took the chance to reach into his hat, feeling around with a trembling hoof for something with a little more kick before he cursed and grabbed at his cloak. He could feel Scales' eyes on him, the reptilian demon sizing him up even as Bones continued to shout angrily at his fellow: “He insulted me, tricked me... the portal was my idea! When have you ever had an idea of your own? The only reason I put up with you is-”

A bottle flew through the air and smashed into the malformed demon's face, Bones staggering to the side before he screamed in agony and clutched at his features as they began to melt like wax, and Scales and La Croix both looked to the side in surprise to see Zecora was now calmly standing in the open doors. Luna and Celestia stood on either side of her, the princesses both looking coldly out at the demons before the zebra mare said quietly: “These foes are far beyond your magical might. And if that portal remains open, more will come to fight.”

“Luna, we have to destroy that portal. Keep to the air and out of the reach of the monsters... Zecora, I hope you know what you're doing.” Celestia said grimly, and then she and her sister both leapt upwards, spreading their wings and taking flight.

Bones looked up with an insulted roar, spittle and blood flying from his jaws, but Scales only grinned coldly before he leaned upwards and breathed out an intense blast of crimson hellfire, Luna and Celestia swerving in either direction with looks of shock.

The sapphire mare crashed painfully into the wall, flapping her wings wildly to try and keep airborne, while Celestia gritted her teeth and lashed her horn down, firing a blast of golden magic at Scales... but it had all the effect of a ball of paper, Scales not even flinching as the magic bounced off his armory hide, the demon grinning wider before responding with an almost-playful blast of hellfire.

Celestia barely managed to swerve out of the way, the flames searing her flowing tail and the back of one leg. Scales laughed loudly at this... and then he flinched slightly when a jar smashed into his face before he slowly turned his eyes towards La Croix, who trembled violently but shouted: “Hey! Y'all gotta finish your dinner before you get started on the praline!”

Scales narrowed his eyes, while Bones picked himself slowly up and hissed: “You can have him. I'm going to kill the stripehorse bitch.”

Zecora only calmly rose a hoof and beckoned to Bones, and the demon snarled before charging straight at her, nothing but anger and hatred. Zecora waited until the last moment before she dodged to the side, reaching back at the same time to yank a flask out of her sidepack before flinging it sharply at not the demon, but the floor in front of her.

It shattered in a great splash that the mare leapt away from, but Bones stomped right into the mess as he whirled towards her. He didn't seem to notice either the goo or the broken glass as he opened his jaws... and then he blinked and looked down in surprise as his front claws refused to move, the sticky goop leaving him cemented to the ground.

He snarled furiously, yanking back and forth and making the floor creak and groan, but Zecora had already poured the little goofer dust that she had left into one hoof, muttering quietly as the black sand seemed almost to ripple with its own malevolent life. Bones glared at her with hatred through his half-melted features, gradually yanking one claw up little by little as he leaned towards her, threatening: “When I get my claws on you, I'm going to-”

Zecora calmly rose her hoof-full of goofer dust as her incantation came to an end, and then she blew sharply on it, sending the dark cloud washing over the deformed demon's head. The dust seemed to become a clinging, black mist as it passed over the demon, who flinched in surprise... then screamed in agony, the sound loud enough to draw Scales' attention before his eyes widened as he saw Bones burst into flames, the draconic demon halting with one claw raised high.

Bones yanked himself back and forth, howling in misery as he burned, long, sprawling tracks of decay spreading through his flesh as Zecora only grimaced and reached back into her satchel. But before she could grab anything, Bones ripped his claws free in a hail of splinters and hardened slime.

His rage had been lost in agony, however, the demon staggering drunkenly away as he screamed and clutched at his head, and Scales snarled before leaning towards Zecora and breathing out a blast of hellfire. The mare was barely able to dive out of the way, hitting the ground painfully on her side with a rattle of potions before she yanked one loose and flung it at the draconian demon.

Scales irritably rose one brawny forelimb, the flask shattering against this and covering his limb with a reeking green liquid... but even as it steamed violently and dark splotches spread through his scales, the demon only absently shook off his forelimb, ignoring what little pain the acid caused him as he growled: “Stupid little girl.”

He began to inhale as Zecora scrambled to get up... and then a flask shattered against his cheek and splattered him with what looked like water. His features began to all-but-smoke at contact with it, however, the reptilian demon gasping in pain before turning a snarl towards La Croix, the Loa shouting: “Yeah! Don't need to break into no temples to get holy water when you a spirit, you know!”

Scales leaned towards him, roaring out a blast of flames, and La Croix winced as he staggered to the side even as he reached into his hat, yanking out an object and flinging it with a flick of his wrist.

The packed cloth ball shot through the air and into the demon's mouth, vanishing into the crimson flames. But a split second later, there was a tremendous explosion, Scales' head snapping backwards as he belched smoke and ashes, his eyes bulging in disbelief as he nearly fell backwards.

As Scales scrambled to catch himself, La Croix yelled wildly and dug into his hat, seeing this one possible chance to actually bring down this goliath of a wrath demon: there was no real strategy, no real thought to what he did as he scooped jar after flask after vial out of his hat and flung all of them in a frenzy towards the monster.

They shattered, some exploding, some splashing, some only bouncing uselessly off the demon as he pinwheeled his forelimbs for balance, the draconic monster snarling in frustration and pain before he tried to shift his stance... and slipped in one of the potions that had shattered by his feet, crashing down onto his back with a tremendous bang that shook the entire room.

La Croix grinned... then looked up with a disbelieving laugh as he felt the magic around the portal ring intensify for a moment before the wooden frame shattered. He heard screams, felt the burst of raw energy as electricity blasted in all directions from the thrumming whirl of light that remained twisting through the air for a moment... and then there was a final, tremendous boom that sent a shockwave ripping through the room, knocking papers free from the wall and throwing the princesses like rag dolls through the air.

They both crashed painfully to the ground as La Croix gritted his teeth, covering his head as his hat flew away and his cape was blown loose. He swore under his breath as Bones desperately looked back and forth... but the pony-demon had been blinded, most of the skin and flesh burned away from his features as he shrieked: “What happened? Don't abandon me here!”

Scales only snarled, then slowly crawled up to his claws before he glared furiously at Bones as the demon staggered towards him, whimpering and asking desperately, all traces of his former pride lost: “Are you there? Where are you? Why did you do this to me?”

“You're the one who kept charging straight at them!” Scales snarled, and then his eyes flashed before the demon growled: “You're worthless to me like this.”

The malformed pony turned his head weakly in the direction of Scales... and then La Croix and Zecora both flinched away, watching with horror as Scales leaned over and roared out a blast of hellfire that washed over Bones. The injured demon shrieked in agony as he staggered away, shaking his head wildly back and forth in denial... but it was only moments before he collapsed backwards in a heap of charred, smoking flesh as the stream of flames ended, gurgling once... then falling still.

Scales coughed a few times, then spat to the side before he snarled and rounded on La Croix, who stared up at the reptilian demon with horror. But Scales only sneered back at him before he said coldly: “Now that I've taken care of that dead weight, it's time to deal with you.”

La Croix staggered backwards, swallowing thickly, and Zecora cursed before she flung a satchel off to dig hurriedly through it. Scales' eyes flicked in her direction, but then he only smiled derisively before leaning towards her and spitting out a short burst of flames.

Zecora's eyes widened, and she leapt backwards with a snarl, barely managing to yank something free from her satchel before the fireball collided with it. Short-lived but greedy hellfire ripped across the cloth bag, several potions exploding in their jars with loud pops and making Zecora stagger further.

“Cher!” La Croix cried out, turning towards her... and Scales leapt at him with surprising speed, slapping a claw out and knocking the stallion hurtling bonelessly through the air towards the wall. But instead of striking the solid brick, he instead hit a cushion of magic, the zebra's eyes widening before he shakily fell to his hooves, barely managing to catch himself as Princess Celestia landed beside him.

“Shining Armor has this area cordoned off. Let's get out of here: he and his soldiers can deal with this monster better than we can.” Princess Celestia said quietly.

Scales only grinned widely at this, however, then he leapt forwards before La Croix could respond: immediately, Celestia created a barrier with a grimace, but then her eyes widened in shock as the demon's claws smashed into it with enough strength to crack her magic, the princess' legs threatening to buckle beneath her from the recoil she felt rip through her body.

A blast of blue light hit the demon in the back, but it only bounced harmlessly off, and Luna swore under her breath as she flew in to try and hammer a kick against the creature. But Scales only half-spun and lashed a claw out, just managing to catch the mare with the back of his limb and send her flying across the room to smash into the wall, Celestia crying out but unable to do anything to help with the demon exerting so much force against the barrier she was struggling to maintain.

La Croix snarled... and then he looked up in surprise as he saw Zecora had withdrawn to the doors. She was sprinkling a line of some kind of powder, and when she saw him looking, she shouted: “Get everyone here, now!”

Scales snorted at the zebra as he almost idly dropped his other claw against the barrier, pushing down on it and making the magic creak like wood as he said callously: “Look at the little coward, trying to hide. But all you're doing is delaying the inevitable.”

“So she doesn't have to rhyme all the time?” Celestia mumbled almost moodily, and La Croix winced as he looked up at her and saw the strain on her features, the speckle of blood dripping down from one of her ears.

“Only when she really wants to make a point. Madame, you ain't looking so good... you better leave the rest of this to me.” La Croix said evenly... and he was surprised by how steady his voice was. He sure as hell didn't feel as brave or as ready or anything as he sounded...

Celestia looked down at him... and then she gasped when Scales pounded mockingly on the barrier of light, the demon laughing loudly as he said mockingly: “What are you going to do, little stripehorse? All your kind is fodder to me! You couldn't even handle Rawhide by yourself, and he was nothing but an ugly little pony!”

La Croix only reached up and calmly took off his cape, the zebra looking silently down at this material that had once meant so much to him before he gritted his teeth and snapped: “I'm gonna do what I always done! Cheat!”

The zebra flung his cape up at Scales, and the demon's eyes widened in surprise as it passed through the magic barrier and whapped into his face, clinging to his features like webbing. The demon snarled in irritation as he began to lean down, breathing out a burst of flames to incinerate both the cloth and the magic barrier... and the flash packets stuffed in the cape's pockets all went off as one at the intense burst of heat, Scales howling in misery as he reared back and clutched at his blinded eyes.

The loud bang startled Celestia into action, the mare dropping the barrier and hesitating only a moment before making a dash for the entrance, and Luna shot by a second later from where she had been thrown, following in her sister's wake. La Croix, however, remained behind, scrambling beneath Scales... and then slamming both rear hooves as viciously as he could up into the demon's crotch.

Scales gave a hurk of pain, his eyes bulging before he dropped forwards, and then he roared in fury, stomping and punching violently at the floor around him, nearly temper-tantruming as he tried to crush the zebra. La Croix had long sprinted away, however, and now he was doing his best to stay behind the demon and out of sight, dancing back and forth as Scales looked wildly around and tried to blink away his blindness, hissing: “I'm going to eat you alive, stripehorse!”

Celestia and Luna both leapt over the line of what looked like flower petals and some kind of powdered herbs Zecora had created at the entrance. Purifiers, or a ward, or... something to keep the demon away from them, Celestia guessed. And then the princess glanced in surprise over at Luna as her younger sibling asked sharply: “What is the plan, now that we have regrouped? How do we help this strange zebra?”

Celestia opened her mouth... then frowned as she saw Zecora had thrown off her other satchel and was putting the finishing touches on what looked like... a little doll. A doll shaped like a zebra, with what looked like real hair sewn into it...

“Don't stare at me, don't distract me now. If you want to help, shield us all, that's how.” Zecora snapped, not looking up from her craft, and Celestia hesitated only a moment before nodding briefly and looking over at Luna, who frowned worriedly up at her sister.

“La Croix won't be able to hide forever, and that demon's armor is too thick for us to hurt him. But maybe we can help slow him down.” Celestia explained calmly to Luna, smiling at her briefly. “I'll do my best to shield us and La Croix from harm. But you can create illusions and confuse the monster.”

“I'll do what I can, sister. He's a fool, though... what can he hope to do against that beast?” Luna muttered, even as her horn started to glow brightly.

But Celestia only smiled faintly... then narrowed her eyes slightly, forcing her woozy mind to lock back on what was happening right in front of them as several zebras resembling La Croix appeared around the demon. They weren't exact replicas, fuzzy around the edges, a little different looking than him... and yet all the same, Scales grinned before lunging forwards at the one directly in front of him, slamming his claw down through it with a roar of victory.

His triumph turned to confusion as he smashed only the floor, looking back and forth dumbly and spotting the other illusions dancing around him... and then he snarled and yanked his claw back, slowly putting together what had happened in his mind. But his eyes ached, and he couldn't smell the zebra out: his nose and mouth had been badly scorched by the Loa's nasty little explosive trick.

He looked back and forth... then suddenly spun around, sweeping his thick tail and one large claw out and just managing to clip the real zebra amidst the illusions, knocking him sprawling backwards. Scales immediately leapt forwards, grinning viciously... but then he snarled in frustration when his fist slammed down into a golden barrier instead of the stallion, giving La Croix the chance to scramble away as Scales looked up with frustration at the ponies. “Stop playing around!”

He leaned forwards, beginning to breathe out hellfire... and then he coughed violently instead, clutching at his throat for a moment as it flared with pain. Then Scales swore furiously as something smashed into the back of one of his hind legs, knocking him painfully to a kneel.

The draconic demon spun around, distracted again, and La Croix squeaked but skittered hurriedly away, leading the monster on a scramble through the room. Celestia grimaced, and Luna cursed under her breath as she muttered: “My illusions do no good if the idiot keeps attracting his attention like that...”

La Croix, however, had other plans as he rushed towards his hat, making a wild dive for it as the huge demon charged after him... and then the stallion gasped in pain as he was swatted out of the air and sent across the room to crash in a heap. He trembled as he lay prone, blood running from several enormous slashes torn through his side, and Scales snorted in disgust before smiling contemptibly down at La Croix's hat.

He reached down, picking it up before grasping into the top of the headgear and simply ripping. And with a horrible, almost-alive shriek of the material, the hat all-but-exploded as the few things that had remained inside it were ejected and it was left as nothing but a broken husk.

Scales chuckled and looked over at the trio gathered behind the doorway... and then he grinned coldly, mocking: “Oh, look at that! The mare has a little pony doll. What, you gonna use your voodoo to put him out of his misery?”

Zecora looked calmly up as she affixed a tag to the doll's back with a needle, and then she smiled thinly before raising the zebra doll in front of her face, murmuring softly: “You fail to understand the true purpose of this doll... it is not a weapon to harm, but a tool to sound a blessing's call...”

La Croix looked wearily up as the demon laughed loudly, and then he turned towards La Croix, saying coldly: “That little fleshbag is going to need a lot more than a prayer. Especially once I rip his head off.”

The demon began to step forwards... and then blinked in surprise as golden bonds of light appeared around his forelimbs before they were yanked viciously backwards, sending him crashing to the ground. He snarled in fury, but then blue ropes crisscrossed themselves rapidly over the demon, Luna and Celestia both putting all their effort into the magic as the ivory mare said sharply: “We can't hold this for long! Get La Croix, and we'll escape!”

Zecora only smiled faintly and shook her head slowly, holding up the voodoo doll in front of herself before she silently kissed the end of its muzzle, and La Croix trembled before he forced his head to rise, stared across the room at the priestess. And even though she was gazing directly into the doll's button eyes, even though it was this seemingly-innocuous toy she whispered to in the old language, he felt like her eyes were looking into his soul and her words were the only thing in the entire room he could hear. She was all that mattered, no matter how the princesses and the demon struggled, no matter how near to death he seemed to be...

“In the name of the Cycle, a spirit was punished; he was not punished fairly. In the name of the Balance, a Loa was brought to ruin; all the same, he serves your Purpose, oh great One Above. I ask that you restore his strength, so that he can return to us: I give freely the gifts you granted me, my ancestors, to mend what is broken in him-”

“No! No, stop it, stop it, cher! Don't do it!” La Croix shouted, throwing himself to his hooves, and even Scales looked up in surprise as the zebra stallion staggered hurriedly towards the doorway, gasping and shaking his head violently. “Don't you dare! Don't you dare!”

“Take my privilege: return his birthright.” Zecora looked slowly up from the doll as it began to glow with a strange, eerie aura, drawing effervescent energies out of the priestess' body, and he watched with horror as her hide lost its luster, as age began to crease her features, as she began to slump to the ground... and yet still, she clutched the doll, still, she managed to whisper weakly: “Everything that rises... must one day fall. All is in balance, and the balance is all.”

She slumped down, and the doll fell from her hooves before it burst into green flames. The fire rapidly consumed it, and yet continued to burn as La Croix shook his head weakly... and then he clenched his eyes shut and flinched away as the eldritch fires burst upwards, streaking through the air and slamming into him.

Emerald fire rushed over his body, but it didn't hurt: what hurt was the thought that Zecora had given up her blessings, her youth, her... everything for him. His body quaked, even as he looked up with a gasp as his wounds healed, and he felt power flooding through his veins... and yet, instead of wanting to celebrate, he wanted to cry. He wanted to despair. And he both loved and hated Zecora for what she had just done.

But then his eyes were drawn over his shoulder as Scales suddenly lunged upwards, snapping the magical bindings over his body and sending both princesses staggering with gasps of pain and surprise. The demon reared up, looking coldly down at the Loa... but La Croix only looked fearlessly back. It wasn't because his strength had returned, oh no: a demon like this could still rip him into pieces if he wasn't careful. But it was so hard to care about anything right now when Zecora was... was...

“Oh, look at that. You got a little bit of your magic back, huh?” jeered Scales, and La Croix slowly turned towards the demon as the draconian beast leaned down over him, adding mockingly: “But you still look like you're all flesh and bones. Maybe I should give you a little help with that and rip the spirit out of your pesky little body... after all, looks like your friend over there went on to the spirit world without you.”

“Tasse-toi.” La Croix growled, and then he glanced to the side before adding coldly: “Besides. You got your own dead friends to worry about.”

Scales only laughed loudly at this, glancing with a dark grin over towards the corpse of Bones... but then his eyes widened in shock as La Croix simply made a short rising gesture, and a phantasmal figure slowly wrenched itself out of the corpse, the demon leaning back in shock as the ethereal shade slowly turned a furious snarl towards his former partner. “W-What, but... but I-”

“We Loa ain't just messengers, see. Sometimes, we be delivery boys, since I know I gotta keep the terms simple for someone like you.” La Croix said calmly, looking coldly up at Scales before he made another short gesture with one hoof: he kept the motion easy, swallowed the trembles in his body, made it look so simple when, in reality, it hurt like hell to try and focus his powers.

But all the same, his powers were clearly working, specters slowly crawling up to their hooves out of the corpses of the fallen minor demons. Scales looked back and forth in shock as these ghosts surrounded him, staring at him with their lifeless, hateful eyes as La Croix said coldly: “See, sometimes our bosses want to speak to the recently done dead. And so long as we get there before all the energy's left their bodies, no matter what they are, we can bring that energy to life. That's what we call a ghost. And often, they not too happy about bein' woken up... but they also often even more mad about bein' made dead in the first place.”

Scales looked back and forth... then snarled when the specter of Bones floated towards him, the draconic demon swiping a claw out. It passed through the spirit uselessly, and Scales began to snarl, turning his eyes towards La Croix... and then the reptilian demon roared in shock when Bones pounced on him and bit savagely into his neck, eyes widening as the color began to drain from his body.

La Croix hurriedly backpedaled, shouting: “And I ain't the one to stand in the way of a little bayou justice, especially when it be for a cocodril like you!”

“Stupid Loa!” Scales uselessly shook himself back and forth, attempting to dislodge the spirits draining the life out of him before the monster snarled and leapt towards La Croix. But La Croix leapt smoothly backwards before he grinned darkly when Scales made a wild grab at him, leaping straight up into the air... and then staying there, floating eerily at head level with the demon as Scales gaped in shock.

Then La Croix kicked both rear hooves out into the monster's face as hard as he could... and even if he wasn't nearly as powerful as your average demon, he was also a hell of a lot stronger now than your average zebra. The kick knocked Scales' head snapping back and the demon staggering with a gurgle, but it was clearly more than the blow that caused him to stumble lethargically: the feeding spirits were already starting to have their effect, even on a powerful demon like this.

La Croix dropped back down to the ground, then he winced and leapt backwards when Scales dove at him: a claw just narrowly caught him and smacked him onto his side, the Loa skidding painfully over the floor before Scales tried to dive on top of him with a roar... but La Croix immediately thrusted both hooves up at him, shouting: “Don't think so, souris!”

A blast of green lightning hammered into the demon, who screamed in pain as the spirits were jarred loose from him before the enormous, draconic beast vanished in a burst of green smoke... and instead, a plump, hairless mouse fell out of the smog, squealing loudly as it fell before La Croix rolled backwards and slammed a hard kick into the rodent. It shrieked as it flew over his head... then suddenly crackled with emerald lightning before transforming back into a massive demon in midair, flipping drunkenly head-over-heels before crashing headfirst into the ground with a sickening crack.

La Croix gasped as he rolled onto his stomach, his body quaking with pain: his powers were back, oh yes, but he just didn't have enough energy to fully utilize them right now. He was going to have to rely on staying at a distance and letting his spirits do the work for him, since that failed polymorph attempt might have saved his life, but it also drained all the energy left in his batteries.

He began to crawl up to his hooves... then frowned as he felt... a tingle. A painful, dark tingle that made his stomach ache as he looked back and forth. Scales was slowly picking himself up, and yet that seemed almost unimportant as that poisonous energy filled the air... before La Croix screamed in agony as green lightning tore across his body and drove him to the ground.

The spirits he had been controlling burst apart one after the other in flashes of emerald light, and Scales looked up with a mix of lunatic triumph and desperation, roaring as he began to charge forwards, not caring what the source of La Croix's agony was... and then a gaping green vortex tore open in reality before a massive claw shot out of it, seizing the demon by the face. Scales squealed in terror and agony, grabbing uselessly at this as he kicked his legs desperately, trying to pull away... but then, with a single vicious yank, the demon was pulled into the portal with one final, whimpered denial.

There was silence for a few moments as Luna and Celestia both stared with horror and disbelief at this floating, evil green vortex, neither knowing what to do or say as La Croix shifted slowly on his stomach, then rolled over to look up at the vortex... and he trembled violently as he stared into it, felt that all-too-familiar maliciousness, and saw in the depths of the emerald spiral two terrible, glowing eyes staring down at him with hate and scorn and contempt.

“La Croix...” rasped Bondye's voice, and La Croix crawled desperately backwards, shaking his head and shivering as the god's huge claw slowly emerged through the portal. “You have defied the Cycle. You have failed in your mission. You have cheated in every way and betrayed your loyalties. And for this and more... you will die.”

La Croix trembled as he crawled backwards, shaking his head violently before the claw reached down... and tore into the ground next to the Loa. But it was little comfort, as he saw the shift and flex... and Bondye's enormous head pushed its way out of the portal, the god glaring furiously down at the stallion with nothing but hate and anger in his eyes.

There was no way out. La Croix trembled, paralyzed beneath the glare but not willing, not able to fight back, terror overwhelming everything else in his body. He clenched his eyes shut, only praying that his death would be quick... but then his eyes snapped back open as Bondye said coldly: “And I will devour that priestess as well, for interfering. As a warning to her petty god not to overstep his bounds.”

La Croix looked up, and something inside him overwhelmed the terror. Something cried out that even if he had to die, he also had to save Zecora. Something demanded that he do everything in his power to protect her... even if that meant resigning himself to a fate worse than death at even Bondye's cruel claws.

The stallion trembled, and then he looked up and whispered: “No.”

Of Ghede's Worth

Chapter Ten: Of Ghede's Worth
~BlackRoseRaven

Bondye halted, scowling darkly, leaning less than a quarter of his body out of the swirling green vortex. Slowly, this terrible alligator-deity turned his contemptible eyes down to La Croix, and he asked with disgust: “What do you mean, 'no?' Do you think you can deny your fate, La Croix?”

“I... I mean...” La Croix looked desperately around, trying to form some kind of coherent plan in his mind before he gritted his teeth and whispered: “I... I did everything you wanted. I preserved the balance. I stopped those demons. I closed the portal those damn stupid ponies opened.”

Bondye only shook his head slowly, and then he growled in distaste and leaned slowly down, saying icily: “It doesn't matter what you did or did not accomplish if you did not do it by yourself! You are pathetic, Loa! You dragged your brothers into this escapade, and you went crawling to a priestess of the Old Ways... you, who were once so proud to have made a mockery of the Origin, who helped establish us under the guise of ten thousand other misnomers and lies.”

La Croix laughed weakly at this, and then he clenched his eyes shut and whispered: “I would rather be my own self... a true Loa... than just a monstre dans la cirque...”

Bondye rumbled darkly at this, and then his eyes glowed bright, poisonous green, and La Croix screamed in agony as lightning ripped over his body, as every single molecule of his being felt like it was suddenly trying to pull apart... and then the pain was gone as suddenly as it had come, and Bondye said softly: “I will make you suffer before you die, La Croix.”

“But... I did it!” La Croix shouted, almost wheedled, trembling hard before he sat up and gestured violently at the portal, nearly screaming, his voice panicked, his whole body quaking: “I did it! I did it, look, just look, damn you!”

Bondye snorted in contempt, eyes flicking over his shoulder, and La Croix immediately spun around and tried to scuttle for the entrance, charging through debris and the ashen remains of Bones. But without even looking back at him, Bondye only made a short gesture with his claw, and the zebra was slammed face-first into the floor before he was dragged painfully back to the awful alligator god. “Yes, Loa. I see the remains of the portal. And I see that it was destroyed by the magic that those two ponies emanate, not you.”

“He guided us!” Luna shouted, stepping brazenly forwards, trying to look fearless... and yet she could do nothing to hide her trembles, nor how she didn't dare to step past the line of crushed herbs and hallowed powders. “Without his help...”

Luna's voice died out, but Celestia took it up, saying quietly: “Without his help, we would have all perished. I do not know who or... or what you are, but have mercy on him.”

“No.” Bondye answered calmly, and then his eyes glowed as he looked with disdain at the two princesses, and La Croix shivered weakly on the floor even as he cautiously pushed himself up, supporting himself on one hoof as the other carefully pressed down against the hard wood. “Do not speak to me again or I will kill you both.”

Celestia and Luna both flinched at the coldness, the callousness, the uncaring fact in Bondye's voice, and then the god frowned darkly as La Croix whispered: “You don't... you don't worry none about him, okay?” He's my problem. He's kind of like my papa... except, you know, he ain't ever played catch with me or done any of those other fou things you ponies like to do. Don't make no sense to me... tossin' somethin' back and forth and smilin' about it.”

“Shut up, La Croix.” Bondye's eyes glowed, and La Croix spasmed, screaming in agony and barely supporting himself on his hooves, gasping and shivering but refusing to let his body drop to the ground... and Bondye looked down at him coldly before he asked suddenly: “What are you doing, La Croix? Answer me!”

La Croix grinned weakly over his shoulder through the sickly surges of energy, and then Bondye slapped him viciously aside before the alligator's eyes widened at the sight of the rune La Croix had drawn... and in the ashes of a demon of her icy realm, no less... “What have you done?”

“Invited... invited a friend...” La Croix coughed hard several times, trembling as the green lightning torturing his body slowly faded, before he bared his teeth in a grin even as he struggled just to stay awake, struggled not to give in to the sweet siren call of unconsciousness... but oh, that shock, that fear in Bondye's eyes... that helped his focus quite a bit. “Not sure if you ever met her yourself before... but... she's a real hoot, you know...”

Bondye snarled in fury, reaching his claw towards La Croix... and then he and everyone else in the room froze as a new voice called cheerily: “Oh, thank you, honey! And hey, big boy, you leave him alone, you hear? I mean, I came all this way just to see him, you can't go killing him before I get a chance to say hello!”

A figure seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, standing fearlessly just to one side of Bondye as if she had always been there: she was tall, bipedal, with an icy body clothed in a swirling dress of white snow. Her head was cow-like, both comical and unsettling with its large teeth and sunken sockets and floppy bovine ears... but in spite of her giggling and her almost erratic movements, there was a clear, malicious, terribly-intelligent gleam in her eyes as she almost singsonged: “La Croix! Oh, it's been too long! No hard feelings over that little trick I pulled on you, right? Corpses under the bridge! You know. For feeding the trolls. Not that you should feed trolls, mind you, but hey. I'm Hel. I do what I want.”

Hel crossed her arms and nodded firmly, and Bondye growled in his throat before turning his cold eyes towards her, saying darkly: “This does not concern you, goddess. I will take these two and be on my way.”

But the icy being only smiled pleasantly up at the demon, before she clucked her tongue and waggled a finger firmly, saying seriously: “Oh, no no no. I don't think so. See, we have some catching up to do. And more than that, I'm a little bitsy-witsy curious just how in darnation two lunkhead demons managed to escape Helheim. They had outside help, oh sure, but where did that come from? Not the mooks on this realm, that's for sure! I don't care if they pieced that portal together out of fairy dust and uh... I clearly mean evil fairy dust, y'know. And evil gnome bones. And other evil implements of evil magic. What was I talking about again? Well, anyway, what I'm getting at is you're a sore loser.”

Bondye snarled slowly, and then he slammed a claw down beside Hel, leaning towards the icy figure and hissing: “I do not play games like you do, Hel. Any more than I will tolerate being treated like a stupid child.”

But the frosty figure only smiled pleasantly in return as her eyes suddenly darkened, and then she rose a hand and said kindly: “You will when I'm around, sweet-pea. Because it seems that you've forgotten which one of us here is the newt, and which one has the funny hat.”

Hel only absently flicked her wrist, and Bondye gasped in shock as the swirling vortex of energy turned to solid green ice around his body, making it impossible for him to push forwards or pull back. The vibrations of the vortex made the green crystal shake and grind against his body, large pieces of emerald ice slowly starting to grind through the god's armory hide.

Bondye snarled slowly, turning his eyes towards Hel... and then he froze up as she fearlessly seized him by the nose, smiling contritely and saying almost gently: “There's always a bigger fish, sweetie-pie. And fish aren't as good for you as people think! You can get poisoned, eating too much fish, did you know that?”

The enormous alligator deity shook his head free, then he roared furiously at Hel, the frosty goddess stumbling dumbly backwards as her eyes widened before Bondye lunged at her, cracking the sheets of ice covering the vortex-

Hel simply caught him by the nose, stopping him with one hand as a dark, displeased expression passed over the goddess' face, before she said softly: “What a dumb brute. Honey, don't you know? It's my job to punish dumb brutes like you.”

Hel looked up at Bondye, who stared down at her with disbelief before the goddess suddenly smiled, saying happily as she hopped backwards on one foot: “But if you really want to show off, you should do something like this. Watch, no hands!”

The frosty figure held both her hands up in almost a gesture of surrender as she kicked a leg childishly out, even as her eyes flashed, and Bondye growled before his eyes bulged and he howled in misery as the sheets of ice around his body suddenly transformed, becoming enormous, frozen claws that stretched out of the green whirl and seized the sides of the alligator's head. He writhed helplessly for a moment, and then the enormous claws suddenly jerked backwards... and Bondye roared in anger and denial and pain as he was dragged backwards into his own portal, one claw grabbing wildly at the air for a moment before it too was sucked back into the vortex.

The eldritch rip in reality trembled violently, then simply vanished with a spark of energy, and Hel clicked her tongue loudly and put her hands on her hips as she said mildly: “What a lout. I mean, honestly, how could even a Tyrannosaurus Dumb like him imagine that he was going to take on the Super Queen of the Big Frozen Place Named After Her? Just look at me!”

Hel struck a few quick poses, flexing her nonexistent muscles and dancing from foot-to-foot as the princesses gaped from beyond the doorway, and La Croix only sighed quietly and picked himself slowly up. Then the goddess suddenly became serious as she spun towards the zebra, looking down at him coldly and saying softly: “But I don't appreciate being used, either. You summoned me up like... well... a magical summon. You know, there's laws against using my name, little Loa. Laws I know you're perfectly familiar with. And clearly your boss just gave you the pink slip... which you don't look very good in, by the way. And even if you did, he still totally set you up just so he could make an example of knocking you down, scarecrow.”

La Croix laughed weakly, and then he said quietly: “I gotta say, Nanny Hel. I ain't missed you or your mouth... but all the same, I can't help but be glad to see you.”

Hel pretended to blush and sketched a curtsy, and then she meditatively tented her fingers together before looking down at them thoughtfully. There was silence for a few long moments, until the goddess' eyes flicked suddenly towards the princesses, and she huffed at the sight of the winged unicorns, saying loudly: “Hey, I may be real pretty and all, but you don't have to stare! Horses! None of you have any manners!”

Luna and Celestia both winced and looked at each other... but before either could speak, Hel simply flicked her wrist, and they both simply vanished. Then the goddess' eyes drew towards Zecora, and she clucked her tongue quietly before she murmured: “Look at that poor thing. Poor thing!”

“You got no idea, Nanny Hel.” La Croix slowly climbed to his hooves, and then he licked his lips before looking up at her and asking quietly: “Do... before you take me, can I say goodbye to her?”

“What the me are you talking about, 'take you?' I don't want to take you anywhere.” Hel said mildly, and La Croix blinked in surprise, but Hel only smiled and calmly placed her hands together, saying pleasantly: “You silly Darkwater types claim to be all about the balance, about neutrality and equality. That's all you talk about. So of course, none of you really are, you're all hot air. But me, on the other hand? My job is to punish the bad guys and make them sorry for what they did. I'm evil, sure. But I'm real balance.

“You aren't such a bad guy, La Croix. You're a dick, sure. But you have good intentions. You helped my little darlings in spite of not liking them much, and you took the heat for it from Tyrannosaurus Dumb and his disciples, and yet, La Croix... without you, everything would have turned out so very differently back then! I owe you one!” Hel paused, then leaned down and smiled slightly, reaching out to teasingly poke La Croix's nose. “Actually, make that I owed you one. We're even now, cookie crumble. I suckered you into doing something for me, and you suckered me into doing something for you. Even-Steven.”

La Croix looked uncertainly up at Hel, and Hel looked back before she suddenly smiled softly, lacing her fingers together and leaning down over him as she said softly: “I don't care much about the fact we saved all of creation together or anything silly like that. I care that you helped me conserve the legacy of someone very dear to me, and you helped me set my darling little dearest free. We had a great time, kid. Giving you a chance to escape is the least I can do. Heck, maybe I'll even put in a good word for you with some of my friends! You know. The imaginary ones. Then you can live happily ever after in imaginary world or something.”

The zebra bit his lip, then he nodded hesitantly before looking up and whispering: “Bondye... he gonna come for me, ain't he?”

“Yes, he is. And no, I won't help you. It's up to you to survive.” Hel poked the zebra's nose gently, and then she sniffed loudly before stretching and saying mildly: “But okay. I better get going now. And you better start running soon, too. You know it won't be long until Bondye starts sending out his spirits to hunt you down. And if they get you, well...”

“Yeah.” La Croix bit the inside of his cheek, and then he looked over his shoulder, gazing silently at Zecora before he whispered: “I just gotta do one last thing, Nanny Hel. Merci, though. Merci beaucoup, vraiment.”

Hel only shrugged, then she suddenly smiled before clapping her hands together and saying positively: “Don't ever forget, La Croix: the reason we have 'abandon hope' etched above the Gates of Hell isn't because there's no hope in Hell. It's because when you end up in the pit, that's when hope is needed the most... and at its absolute strongest if you can find it.”

With that, Hel winked before she simply vanished in a burst of blue smoke, and La Croix gave a faint smile before he shook his head slowly and turned his eyes back towards Zecora. He swallowed a bit at the sight of her, trembling a little... and then his eyes widened slightly as he saw her body shift.

La Croix staggered into a run, hurrying towards her... and then he smashed face-first into what felt like an invisible wall before the strange force repelled him violently, knocking him crashing onto his back. He swore under his breath, then trembled before looking up and gritting his teeth, seeing the line of crushed herbs and powders and other sanctifiers filling the doorway.

He was a Loa, and that was a mixture used to stop spirits from crossing the threshold of a room. La Croix shook his head weakly, and then he slowly looked up as Zecora whispered: “You need to go, my friend... this... this is the end.”

“No. No!” La Croix shouted, stepping forwards and trembling... but his voice wasn't filled with anger, but instead raw with his pain, as he said roughly: “You ain't no coward, Zecora, so get up and break that line so I can get to you. Then I'm gonna give you this energy back and we gonna get out of here, you hear me?”

Zecora smiled faintly, and then the ancient, emaciated zebra slowly forced herself to raise her head. And La Croix trembled at the sight of her face, etched deep with so many scars of age, pockmarked and crevassed and yet still, still her eyes had such determination in them, such beauty... “That won't work, and you know it yourself, La Croix... and besides, the anger of the Oricha that we both saw...”

“He's no Oricha no more, for better or worse... but all I've learned about gods is that they ain't nothing but pedants and tyrants, they...” La Croix trembled, and then he snapped: “Look, we can argue 'bout this later, you damn fou chaoui! Get on your damn hooves, I still got enough strength to get us both out of here. Stop wastin' time rhymin' and let's get movin'!”

“I don't think I can.” Zecora said quietly, and La Croix froze up, staring at her before Zecora slowly lowered her head, breathing softly as she whispered: “All I am... I gave to you. My life is running out; but La Croix, please don't pout...”

La Croix laughed weakly at this, and then Zecora smiled faintly and whispered: “Old habits, I suppose, but I feel... the end of my journey is here. No more time for praises to the sky, no more smiles for the spirits... no, instead it is time for me to sleep. I go to a place like Darkwater now, La Croix, watched over by He Above-”

“No, I... I won't let you! Stop it!” La Croix shouted, throwing himself up against the invisible barrier as tears shone in his eyes, hooves shoving into the wall. “I... dammit, what about me? I don't want to lose you, I... I won't, I can't lose you! You... you the only damn friend I ever had!”

“And you have the power to make that happen, I know. You can draw back my spirit, La Croix, force me to walk beside you, even raise my body from the dead...” Zecora smiled faintly, whispering: “But I know you won't do that to me. You're stronger than that... you're better than that, and so much less selfish than I thought you were at first. You'll let me sleep. You'll remember me. And one day you'll find me again, after it's time for me to wake up and come back to this world.”

“You... y-you don't know me at all...” La Croix whispered, dropping his head forwards and trembling violently. “Fou... stupid... beautiful you... always thinking the best of all of us, always imagining things are gonna work out... but I ain't that, Zecora, and things don't work out like fairy tales, and... I just... I... I...”

“You'll let me go, La Croix. You're stronger than even you realize... and you know that I'll always be beside you.” Zecora whispered, and she shifted a little before smiling faintly. “Our paths diverge here... but death is only sleep. If we're meant to be together... again, I know we'll meet...”

“That's... not even a half rhyme...” La Croix whispered, trembling a bit, pushing uselessly against the barrier as he stared at her miserably... then he clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head forwards, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Don't... don't make me go alone, mon amour. Don't make all of this for nothin'.”

But Zecora didn't respond, and La Croix swallowed thickly as he looked silently through the invisible barrier at her. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he stared at her, watching as she simply... faded out. The last breath left her, and she shifted once, but it was so peaceful, so serene... it lacked the violence of the ten thousands of deaths he had seen. She accepted, she was ready, and she went willingly... and La Croix gritted his teeth and slammed his head into the invisible barrier, crying out: “Why the hell did you do it? Why save me? Why? Why? W-Why...”

He collapsed forwards, trembling as tears leaked down his cheeks from his reddened eyes, before he looked sharply over his shoulder and stared in disbelief at the figures he saw standing there. Three zebras, glowing with radiance... Loa, but not Loa like him. Loa like had once been, so long ago, gazing at him with such purity, such balance in even the stripes of their bodies...

“Because Loa cannot be reborn, but she will. One day, she will: the cycle is eternal. Life begets death, death begets life. Souls take on flesh, then shed it to sleep, then take on new flesh when the time comes for it.” said the Loa in the lead, shrugging slowly before it smiled at him, and La Croix swallowed thickly, pressing himself up against the invisible barrier almost fearfully. “We wanted to see you, ancestor. It's been many, many years. You've changed so much.”

“I don't recognize any of y'all. Get... get away. Haven't you ever heard of privacy?” muttered La Croix, and the spirits only smiled at him before the zebra scrubbed at his features, looking silently over his shoulder and whispering: “I wanted to be with her now.”

“You can't always have what you want, La Croix. But that is the gift of balance: when something is taken, something else is given. And when you give away, you receive something else in return.” said the lead Loa again, and then it glanced up and said softly: “Bondye's spirits are coming. You are finding your way home, brother, slowly but surely. We will cover your escape.”

La Croix hesitated, then looked over his shoulder at Zecora before he clenched his eyes shut, his heart thudding in his chest. She had given him this gift of life... his life was all he had left of her. His life and...

He reached up, silently touching the bone charm hanging from his necklace, and then he nodded shortly before whispering: “I ain't your damn family. I ain't anyone's family. But... merci beaucoup all the same... guess we ain't all bad people after all.”

The Loa only smiled at him, and La Croix took one last look over his shoulder at Zecora before he swore under his breath, then clenched his eyes shut. And with a sudden burst of eerie green light, he was simply gone.

La Croix sat at the back of a crowded bar, breathing quietly and trying to just... keep himself calm. He shivered a little as ponies passed back and forth, shouting and calling happily to each other, most of them completely ignoring him. He was just another stranger, passing through Manehattan, that was all: there were plenty of misfits through the bar every night.

His head ached, but he didn't dare leave quite yet: crowded places, places full of life and energy, were the only places he could safely hide. Even with this charm that Zecora had made for him, it only protected him from being hurt by evil spirits. It didn't do much to cover up his presence otherwise, and there were more things than just ghosts combing the world for him.

He had made the stupid mistake of trying to jump to Zecora's hut first, thinking he'd be safe inside: instead, birds and timberwolves had attacked, driven into wild frenzies by Bondye's spirits and trying to pin him in place until the rest of Bondye's lackeys could arrive. La Croix had barely been able to make another jump through reality and escape.

He was sore, he was tired, he was... scared as hell. There was no way he could keep away from Bondye forever, and it wasn't like he had anywhere to go, either. And as long as Bondye had his lackeys keeping him on the run and putting on pressure, he wouldn't be able to regenerate the strength he needed to make a jump between worlds.

La Croix silently swirled his glass of beer, then he sighed a little as he shoved it away. He wasn't thirsty at all. And all this noise... it was starting to get to him. He had to get out of here, and he had to find a place where he could settle down. But as a Loa, almost anything he did to protect himself against spirits would have a negative effect on him, too.

The stallion pushed himself away from his table, then shoved his way through the bar to the exit, grimacing as he pushed out of the crowded interior and into the cold night air. He brushed at himself absently, scowling up at the dark, cloudy sky, then he turned into the blowing wind and began to trudge down the street, swearing under his breath.

It was late and dark and awful. It was cold and he was miserable. He wished he was dead, and Zecora was an aching hole in his heart. He felt... hollow, and empty, and lost. He felt like it was all pointless, and the only things that kept him going were a mix of stubbornness and that strange, almost-surreal feeling that if he didn't protect his life as best he could, he wouldn't be protecting Zecora's last act, Zecora's last gift to him.

La Croix sighed quietly as he walked down the street... then he suddenly frowned and glanced to the side, staring in through a lit-up display box at a set of finely-tailored clothes on display in the window of a shop. He studied it silently, then smiled briefly: nice clothes. Imported too, he guessed, styled... well. In a way that was almost familiar...

He walked slowly to the other display window on the far side of the entrance, and saw something in more of an oriental design. That intrigued him: it looked very well done, very authentic. He liked that.

The zebra bit his tongue thoughtfully, then he headed quickly back into the little nook where the entrance door was hidden between the two display windows. He attempted to squish his face up into the tiny window that looked in on the shop, but it was covered by a panel, and La Croix grumbled before grasping the stiff handle and muttering: “Ouvrez.”

There was the faintest spark, and then the door clicked open before La Croix quickly slipped inside and shoved the door closed behind him. He grinned a bit as he looked back and forth through the dimly-lit shop... and then he winced when a voice called querulously from the back: “Hello? Is somepony there?”

La Croix looked wildly back and forth, and then he slapped his forehead and swore at himself. He had his powers back, so he could just turn invisible or transform himself or-

“Hello, is anyone... oh, excuse me, sir, my shop is closed. You'll have to come back tomorrow.” said an elderly stallion who had emerged from the back, frowning at La Croix through his pince-nez, and the zebra looked awkwardly back at the pony, feeling like an idiot. He'd been so busy thinking about his own stupid powers that he hadn't bothered to use any of them.

And here he was, still standing here awkwardly, and the stallion was looking up at him uncomfortably. La Croix stared back down at him, then he quickly cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly before saying lamely: “I'm cold.”

The old stallion frowned a little... then sighed tiredly, shaking his head briefly before he muttered: “I don't take in street people, sir. But I suppose... you can spend a few minutes here to warm up, if you really need to...”

“Oh, uh. Merci.” La Croix said awkwardly, and the elderly stallion gave him a meditative look before the zebra said finally: “I ain't no hobo, though. I meant, I was lookin' for... well, I got somethin' real specific in mind.”

The old stallion scowled up at him, then he asked dryly: “And this really could not have waited until business hours tomorrow? How did you even get inside, I thought I locked that door...”

“Magie. Now will you listen to me or what?” La Croix asked crankily, and the old stallion gave him a grumpy look before the zebra said mildly: “I need to see your hats, and I want a cape. Fashionable, spider-silk... except maybe that's askin' a little too much of you, old papere.”

“Excuse me, sir!” The stallion drew himself creakily up to his full height, raising his head and looking with indignation at La Croix. “I happen to be the former tailor to Princess Celestia herself! My fashions have won dozens of competitions, and-”

“And that don't matter worth a damn if you can't provide me with what I'm lookin' for, now does it? It's real impressive to go bragging about your exploits, but I ain't interested in the past. I'm interested in the here and now, hear?” La Croix said pointedly, stomping a hoof a few times. “You don't show me your best in show. You show me what you got on sale in my department.”

The stallion scowled a little, looking over him before he asked pettishly: “And why precisely should I do that? You came in off the street because you were cold.”

“Okay, fine. Be that way.” La Croix said blandly, shrugging a bit before he said mildly: “Guess you ain't so excellente after all if you refuse to even show me your work. I'll just take my business elsewhere, then, and hopefully you can find some dumber suckers than me in the future to pawn your rags off to.”

“Rags! Rags!” The old stallion nearly shouted, and then he shook his head violently before storming over to La Croix and seizing him by one ear, making the zebra yelp before the Loa was dragged painfully along, his plan working... although not quite as intended, as the stallion pulled him deeper into the shop and grumbled: “You just come right this way and we'll see what you think of these rags when you see them up close and personal, sir!”

La Croix muttered under his breath before he looked moodily up when they stopped in front of an enormous shelf filled with hats of every size and shape, and the stallion thankfully let go of his ear to gesture violently at these, saying boldly: “There! The finest hats in all of Equestria!”

“Only 'cause mine got torn apart by a great dumb crapaud.” La Croix muttered, looking slowly back and forth over the selection. His eyes caught on one hat in particular, the zebra studying this thoughtfully before he pointed up at it. “Lemme see that one.”

The elderly stallion began to look back and forth for something, and La Croix gave him a mild look before he helped up a hoof and clicked his tongue loudly. The hat immediately flew off its hook and down to his hoof, and the zebra grinned a bit as he began to tilt it back and forth before the old tailor chuckled and walked over to a pole with a small hook on it that had been left leaning against the wall. “Oh, here it is. Just a moment, and I'll get that.. down for...”

The pony stared at La Croix, who now had the hat on his head, the zebra grinning widely as he said mildly: “I think I got it, ol' papere. Don't you worry none over it.”

“I... what?” The tailor blinked... then he shook his head quickly before scowling, saying grumpily: “Fine trick, but please take that off. I have a strict rule about trying these clothes on. Not without special permission, you hear?”

“It's my chapeau now. I'm gonna pay for it and everything, so I think I'll just keep it on.” La Croix replied comfortably, nodding firmly before he looked thoughtfully at the old stallion, even as the pony gave him a sour, puckered look in response. “Hey. You do any sewing?”

“Do you even know what these clothes are made out of, or do you think I just garden and grow them all from trees?” the tailor grumbled irritably, giving La Croix a foul look. “Yes, I sew. I sew, stitch, tuck, weave, append-”

“Okay, okay, you cranky old vulture, y'made your damn point.” La Croix grumbled, shaking his head and waving a hoof irritably. “Fine. First, we gonna find us a cape for me. Then, you gonna do some alterations. I want it all to be perfect.”

The elderly tailor gave La Croix a moody look, and then he asked finally: “Where is all the money for this coming from? You don't look like the type who happens to be rolling in bits, after all.”

But the zebra only waved a hoof grumpily, saying mildly: “Believe me, money ain't gonna be no problem for either of us. Y'all gonna have all the bits you need. Or gemstones or... whatever you prefer it in. I dunno. I don't keep up with you fancy types.”

The tailor scowled a bit, but then nodded hesitantly. The two looked at each other for a few moments, measuring one another, judging where they could push each other... and then the elderly pony finally turned and said: “This way. I've got a lovely traveling suit-”

“Nope, cape.” La Croix interrupted, and the old pony frowned over his shoulder. “I want a cape. The showy kind, in that classy style where it's worn more to one side. I'm sure you got somethin' like that for me, right?”

The pony looked at him for a few moments, chewing on his lip before he finally nodded and muttered: “I suppose that I do, yes. It's not a completely uncommon style.”

La Croix grunted, not knowing if he should take offense at this or not... but ten minutes later, he thought he was satisfied with what the old pony managed to dig up for him. Not spidersilk, perhaps, but a very fine, dark cloth material all the same... he thought that it would do.

Then the old pony yawned and looked moodily over at La Croix, saying dryly: “Now. If you'll give me those, I'll put them aside and do the alterations on them tomorrow. You can pick them up the next day. It's getting very late and... as thrilling as this little escapade has been... I would very much like to go home and have a nice cup of tea.”

“I'll pay you triple your normal rate if you do the alterations now.” La Croix wheedled, and the pony immediately perked up and looked over at him, brightening quite a bit. It made the zebra feel a wry sense of amusement... and then, out of nowhere, came the thought that Zecora would have done all of this for free, and that same brightness would have come not from any promise of wealth, but just a simple 'thank you...'

The zebra dropped his gaze for a moment, closing his eyes, and the tailor frowned nervously at him... but after a moment, La Croix shook his head quickly and cleared his throat, muttering: “Sorry. Just... an ombre. Look, I'll even make you the stencils or whatever. We get this done within the hour, then I give you whatever you want. Je promets.”

The elderly stallion hesitated, then he nodded moodily and said finally: “Well, normally I don't really like other people helping with my work, but... I suppose this one time I can allow it.”

La Croix gave a brief smile, and the tailor gave him an appraising look before turning with a sigh, gesturing at him and muttering: “Well. Come along to the back, then.”

The stallion led the way, and La Croix followed: the zebra was surprised by how large the shop actually was, especially after they entered the workshop in the back. He was also surprised by the variety of materials, and the old stallion seemed to take no small pleasure in pointing out this trophy or that picture, bragging now and then about his illustrious past as a designer.

La Croix ignored most of it: even when they started to work on modifying his clothing, he'd gone mostly onto autopilot, muttering only a little now and then as he created the base of the patterns for the old tailor to follow. They worked surprisingly well together, but perhaps that was mostly because of how intensely focused they both were on the task at hoof: the old tailor had a challenge, and La Croix was trying to make something he'd need to stay alive.

It was only two hours of work: La Croix actually ended up sewing most of the addition for the hat himself, while almost all of the old tailor's time was spent on the cloak. And La Croix had to admit that he was pleased to see how things had turned out: done quickly, done well.

The cloak fit perfectly: flowing black, but with a silver border, held on by metallic brooches and a gleaming chain. The entirety of the cloak's edge was illustrated with violet runes that seemed to bleed from the dark, black velvet of the cloak's body, giving it a strange beauty.

His top hat had a similar design: deep, raven black, with a gorgeous peacock feather standing out of it, but a violet band of cloth inset with dark runes wrapped around the base of the headgear, just above the narrow brim. La Croix smiled as he stepped in front of a mirror to admire his new clothing... and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe while doing so. Even before he enchanted this cloak, the runes would offer enough protection to keep him invisible to evil eyes: once he got some privacy to put on the rest of the charms and enchantments, he might actually be able to hide out long enough to make a jump to another world.

The old stallion cleared his throat loudly, and La Croix glanced mildly up before the tailor gestured absently at the scraps of clothing on the table. “I assume you'll be paying for this waste as well. And that you'll pay me by no later than midnight tonight.”

“I'll pay you right now.” La Croix said mildly, and then he reached out and snagged up the tattered remains of the cloth they had cut up. The old stallion frowned, but La Croix only grinned and quickly crushed it down into a rough ball shape, saying thoughtfully: “Now let's see... what'll work best... uh... how about gold? Would gold be fine?”

“Gold would be fine.” The tailor frowned at the stallion, leaning uncomfortably back, but La Croix only grinned widely in response before there was a sudden flash.

The old stallion staggered backwards in surprise, before scowling as there was a tremendous thump... but then his expression turned to a gape of disbelief as he saw La Croix had just dropped a block of gold larger than his head onto the floor out of apparently nowhere. He mouthed wordlessly, stepping forwards and poking disbelievingly at this, but La Croix only smiled pleasantly and clapped his front hooves together before saying easily: “Well, I guess that's that!”

With that, La Croix turned and proudly strode away, heading back into the main room of the shop. His smile grew fainter with every step, however, until it was nothing but a ghost on his pale features when he emerged from the tailor's and back out onto the street.

He silently stroked his hooves up through the cape: there were still modifications to be done, but he could easily do most of them himself. He just couldn't stop thinking about Zecora, about how she'd given him his powers back... and what did he do with them? Stage magic and parlor tricks that made his own life easier, and cheated others around him. The first real interaction he'd had with a pony since that fateful afternoon, and what had he done? Cheated him out of these garments... and he hadn't even gotten the old guy's name.

La Croix sighed quietly, then he frowned a little and glanced down the street... before his eyes widened in horror as he saw several well-dressed zebras, standing motionlessly only a short distance away. He knew they were staring at him, even though he couldn't see their faces behind the polished party masks they wore. He could feel their glares from behind their covered eyes; the hatred emanating from their bodies almost threatened to suffocate him.

The stallion staggered around in a circle and bolted, and the three zebras shambled after him: he knew they had his scent now, though, and there was no way he was going to lose them unless he could make a jump... or... unless...

La Croix ran down the street: the zebras behind him weren't fast, but they weren't exactly slow, either. They moved at a steady pace that would overcome him sooner or later, because even with his powers restored, his body still had its limits. And if these creatures were on the ground hunting him, it meant there were likely already evil spirits in the air above, just waiting for him to either try and turn ethereal or attempt something stupid like flight.

The Loa shivered as he looked over his shoulder: the three had fallen more than a block behind him, but they were still shambling along with ruthless determination. He wondered how long they had been in this city, likely patrolling for any sign of him... he wanted to imagine it couldn't be that long, that he would have sensed them, but he was so tangled up in his own emotions...

La Croix cursed under his breath, then he turned a corner sharply and sprinted down a side alley. He stumbled over a garbage can with a tremendous crash and bang, and he heard a voice yell angrily at him from above, but ponies were the least of his worries right now. He could deal with ponies: they weren't immune to his magic. They weren't nearly indestructible.

The stallion staggered around another corner then rushed back out onto the street. He hoped that those things would be slowed down, but that was highly unlikely: unlike what most ponies thought, zombies weren't just bumbling, dull-witted beasts. They were only slow and awkward because of the atrophy in their bodies: they retained many of their memories and skills from life, and were perfectly capable of learning new ones for as long as they remained puppets of the evil spirit that had summoned them. That, combined with a sense of smell that could hone in on a single target like him from miles away, made them the perfect hunting dogs.

The zebra hopped a set of old boxes, then turned and bolted down the street, gritting his teeth before he grinned to himself as he caught sight of the one thing that might still be able to save his life. He rushed towards it, ignoring the few ponies he passed who stared or shouted at him as he sprinted by through this old quarter of town, the stallion concentrating solely on his objective...

And he made it. He could barely believe it, but he managed to make the squat, old wooden bridge just as the zombies emerged from the alley. La Croix wheezed loudly as he stumbled to the center of this, then dropped on his rump and leaned back against the half-rotten banister, looking up at the night sky and letting himself catch his breath before he grinned over at the zombies when they filed up to the other side, only glaring at him malevolently.

“Yeah, can't get me, can you? None of y'all can cross bridges... no evil spirit can. But me, I'm a Loa from the old days... bridges and running water ain't nothing to me.” La Croix slowly shoved himself up to his hooves, grimacing as he brushed at himself. “And in five minutes, I'm gonna be on the other side of the country, mes amis. So why don't y'all give up and go home?”

The zombies were silent... and then one slowly reached up and peeled off his mask, and La Croix shivered a bit at the sight of his stark, half-decayed features, his lips missing and leaving his teeth bared in a permanent grin, his jaundiced eyes looking up with hatred at La Croix. Not the hatred of the dead for the living; the hatred of Bondye for the one who had escaped him. “We will hunt you forever, La Croix. We will hunt until you are found... be it this world or any other. You will never know safety. You will never know sanctuary. You will never know escape. You are already caught in the snare, Baron La Croix: our master just hasn't chosen to take you yet.”

La Croix opened his mouth to reply... but he didn't have any words, any response. He was only able to look silently at the zombies as they looked callously, coldly back, before the dead zebra silently replaced his mask, then calmly turned and led his fellows away.

And La Croix was left sitting on the bridge, swallowing a bit and rubbing at his face silently as the zombies walked away... and yet he had never felt more trapped in all of his many long years of life.

Justice For La Croix

Chapter Eleven: Justice For La Croix
~BlackRoseRaven

Honor and pride... that was all La Croix had left, but those things too were fading rapidly. How could he pride himself on being a Loa when his own kind were chasing him, coming to destroy him? And what honor did he actually have, when he was forced to lie, to cheat, to steal from the innocent just so he could struggle to survive the evils chasing after them?

La Croix plodded silently down the road, breathing hard as he kept his head low, his eyes roving nervously back and forth. But it was hard to see anything on this dark and empty night, with the stars and moon above concealed by heavy clouds and nothing but abandoned, lightless countryside around. La Croix had come out here to try and conceal himself amidst the sprawling plains; a funny thought, but in his enchanted cape, he would be invisible to the eyes of the evil spirits Bondye had hunting for him.

All he had to really worry about were zombies, but he was able to conceal his scent by using a musky cologne he'd mixed up. He was also able to draw the zombies away with false rituals and a few other nasty tricks, but La Croix was hesitant to try and destroy them. Not because it would be difficult, but because he had a feeling that if he started trying to fight back, Bondye might start sending in more of the big league bêtes. And even if Bondye wouldn't risk trying to manipulate more demon thugs into doing his dirty work for him, he still had quite a few nasty underlings he could call on.

La Croix shivered, looking back and forth again: he knew they'd expected him to make a jump by now. Hell, he had expected to make a jump by now, but... what was the point, honestly? Bondye's servants would catch up with him after a few hours at the most: he could feel the eyes watching for any sign of someone trying to jump from this world to another.

The Loa stopped in the middle of the road, looking back and forth: there was nothing but desolation and darkness, rolling, endless fields of dry grasses and packed dirt. He sighed quietly, then walked over to the side of the road, studying the remains of the old wooden fencing that lined it before he muttered: “That's right. Nothing lasts forever. Whether we keep runnin' or we stand still... ain't nothing gonna last forever. We all decay. We all die.”

He silently pushed a hoof against one of the rotting posts, making it creak and bend before he sighed and let it straighten, dropping his head forwards as he closed his eyes. Everything was so goddamn complicated and he really, honestly, had no idea whatsoever what to do...

And as always, his mind shifted to Zecora, and he bit his lip, trembling a little bit. It had been almost a week since she'd passed on, but every day just hurt worse... every day just made him question more and more why the hell she'd saved his worthless hide. Every day made feel less and less able to protect this gift she had given him...

After all, even with all of these tricks and traps and everything else he'd been working on and putting together, in spite of escaping out here, to a safe haven amidst the dust and emptiness... he couldn't live his life like this. Just roaming these empty fields for eternity, or until Bondye's lackeys caught up to him. And they were never going to stop... they were never going to stop. What the hell was even the point if being caught was inevitable?

La Croix swore under his breath... then looked up sharply at the sound of a mournful howl cutting through the night air. His ears pricked, and a chill ran down his spine before he swore under his breath, looking sharply back and forth.

That was something bad... really bad. Worse than zombies, worse than ghouls or ghosts. La Croix bit his lip as he trembled a little, before his whole body froze up as he heard it: a long, mournful wail that died down into a gurgling moan... and oh god, it was close.

“No... no, no, no! You fou and cruel, Bondye, but you ain't never been stupid!” whispered La Croix, trembling violently as he looked up at the sky... and then he heard that thing again, crying out miserably to the skies, making La Croix's blood run cold before he swore under his breath and suddenly leapt the rotted fence, running as fast and hard as he could away from the awful sound.

But he knew he couldn't run fast or far enough to escape this: not out here in the empty plains, not without weapons or tools or powerful wards. His only chance was to find a place where he could try and hole up, then make a jump to a different world and hope, hope that this monstrosity of Bondye's didn't follow after him.

La Croix sprinted through the fields of tall grasses until he suddenly stumbled out into a weedy clearing. He looked back and forth before his eyes locked on the welcome sight of a large, rickety old barn nearby: it didn't look like it had been in use for quite some time. The stallion was thankful for that as he ran towards it... then skidded to a stop as he looked to the side, trembling and staring as he saw there was a little ranch house in the distance, and the lights of old lanterns were still quietly burning in the windows.

There was someone in there. And Bondye's beast would be attracted to the light and life of that pony... or ponies, or... whatever was in there! And sure, La Croix could let them die... could even use them as bait to try and make a run for the next farmhouse, even though he knew it was probably miles and miles away, and he'd be lucky to come across it like he had this one.

He couldn't fight Bondye's monster. He had utterly no chance to destroying it. And in the past, he wouldn't have hesitated to simply abandon this fight and run away. But things had changed since then... he had changed. He was better than that. He was more than that, and goddammit, Zecora... Zecora had believed in him, that he would use this gift she'd given him in the right way...

La Croix gritted his teeth, trembling... then he swore under his breath and ran towards the ranch house, even as the monster's wails cut through the air again. It was sniffing him out, but the beast hadn't seen him yet... at least there was that. Maybe he'd get lucky and he'd be able to get these ponies going one way while he lured the monster in the other...

The zebra clattered up the steps, and almost rammed into the front door, hammering on it. He heard sounds of surprise from inside, and then La Croix leaned forwards and shouted through the wood: “Hey! Hey, y'all better open up! You gotta run, there's a diable comin' and it ain't gonna slow down for no one or nothin'!”

“Who the hell is out there?” shouted a gruff voice, and a moment later the door was yanked open, an old farmpony stumbling into the entrance and pointing an old, rusty shotgun out in the general direction of the zebra's face.

La Croix winced and held up his front hooves immediately, and the farmpony glared at him... before his eyes widened in surprise at the sound of another banshee-wail ripping through the air, and La Croix shivered as he looked sharply to the side. The monster was getting close... worse, it was starting to lock onto their scent. It knew there was more than just warmth and heat and lifeforce in this direction now, there was something that it could consume... “The hell is that?”

“You don't wanna know, papere. Look, you gotta get out of here right now... that thing is comin' fast, and it ain't gonna stop no matter what you do!” La Croix urged, and the old stallion glared at him defiantly, raising the shotgun slightly as an elderly mare appeared behind him, looking frightened.

“I ain't movin'! We've lived here for forty years, and I ain't about to give up now!” snapped the old stallion, shaking his head vehemently. “Look, youngster, whatever that thing is, I'm not about to let it chase me off my property and-”

“Y'all are an idiot!” La Croix snapped, beginning to lower his hooves... and then he winced when the old stallion yanked back the hammers of his shotgun, the zebra flinching and freezing again.

“You just stay right where you are. How do I know this ain't some silly prank? You zebras can't be trusted!” the old stallion growled... and then he scowled at that awful wailing again, adding almost angrily: “We've survived everything out here! We weathered the worst and survived rampages from beasts you can't imagine! And ol' Bessy here's never failed me when I needed her to give a thug like you or a big beast of a dragon a little reminder why they aren't welcome in these here parts!”

“Honey, stop! Listen to the zebra, listen to that noise! I've never heard anything like it!” The mare behind him said almost urgently, grabbing his shoulder, but the farmpony only growled and shook her off before looking back at her... and La Croix saw his chance.

He swatted the barrel of the gun away before trying to grab it... and the old stallion pulled both triggers on instinct. The shot went wild, but the force of it was enough to knock the pony on his rump and send La Croix sprawling over with a yelp, hugging his throbbing hooves to his chest as he spat a litany of curses... then he froze and looked up in horror as he heard not a wail, but an almost-gleeful scream as Bondye's monster locked on where they were.

La Croix swore under his breath, scrambling to his hooves as the old stallion yelled for his wife to get more ammunition. But the zebra ignored them both as he ran down into the clearing, trying to ignore his body's trembles as he felt the ground shaking with the monster's approach, and the world around him seeming to darken.

Out of nowhere, a white shape leapt past La Croix, the stallion wincing before he stared in disbelief as the spirit of a dog ran in a short circle around him, barking silently before it blinked out of reality... only to reappear a short distance away, running back and forth as if terrified. Phantasmal birds shot through the air next, and La Croix gritted his teeth and steadied himself even as more of the dead appeared, leaping and running away in terror.

But these ghosts meant him no harm: they were little more than husks of energy that retained enough of what they had once been to come to unlife. They were memories and emotions that had imprinted themselves into this world, tied here by instinct, because this had been their territory, this had been where their final moments had lived out; but now they were all trying to flee, trying to rip their anchors and roots loose, even if that meant dissolving into nothingness.

There was a fate worse than erasure coming, after all: there was a horrific, muddy nightmare-sentience stalking its way towards them, howling and gasping as it came. It was all the poisons of the mind made real, and it vacuumed up life and energy as it went, eating the memories and emotions attached to a place and leaving a tract of barren death behind it...

La Croix trembled, looking up as the monster finally stepped into view, parting the tall grasses as it surged and writhed; for a moment, it was formless, nothing but a living lake of sludge and hell. Its gelatinous form was blacker than the night, but studded with white bones that shifted and rolled through it constantly as it undulated and flowed endlessly... and then La Croix shivered and stumbled when several of the larger skeletons all suddenly tried to lurch upwards at once, screaming loudly as they shone with eerie green light before they collapsed back into the muck.

And then the horrible, nightmarish mass writhed and shifted violently before it surged upwards, twisting on itself to form into a hideous imitation of Bondye. The alligator-slime growled, its teeth formed from broken bones and sharpened ribs, its eyes nothing but hollow sockets that glowed with preternatural emerald light, its claws digging deep scours into the earth as skeletons continued to swim and shift through the endless goop that made up its distorted form.

Then its jaws opened wide, and La Croix trembled as Bondye's voice rasped out of it: “La Croix. The time has come for you to pay in full for your crimes, your distortions.”

“My crimes? Bondye, I ain't the one who released The Dreaded into this world! I'm already exiled, without a home, scrapin' the bottom of the barrel... you took everything away from me except my life!” the Loa shouted furiously in response, but the look on his face was almost desperate even as he glared up at the monstrosity. “You the one puttin' the cycle at risk now! You the one upsettin' the balance here, not me!”

“Be quiet, La Croix. If you're so worried about what the presence of this nightmare will do in the physical world, then just roll over and give yourself up to it.” Bondye said disgustedly, and La Croix snarled before the beast's mouth slowly closed.

The skeletons over its frame shivered and wailed as the living nightmare lost some of its shape and form... but it retained more than enough to lunge forwards and lash its claws down at La Croix. The zebra was barely able to fling himself out of the way before he gritted his teeth and concentrated, and he vanished just before hitting the ground, reappearing in front of the barn a moment later in a gasp of smoke and green lightning.

The monstrosity roared at him, and La Croix gritted his teeth before he yanked his hat off his head and dug in it, pulling out a small cloth bundle. But before he could throw it, there was another tremendous bang and a splatter of ooze from the beast, and La Croix looked up in horror as he saw the elderly stallion breaking open his shotgun to fumblingly reload it.

Bondye's monster turned its attention with an eager gasp towards the farmpony and his wife, and La Croix cursed before he shouted: “Connards, get the hell inside! Your boomstick ain't gonna do a damn thing against this bête!”

The ponies only stared for a moment... and then the monster turned towards the farmhouse and lurched into an awkward gait, and both ponies screamed in terror and bolted inside, slamming the door behind them. A moment later, the mass of black goop and bones lost its form and became a surging tsunami that smashed violently against the front of the house, and La Croix swore under his breath before he gritted his teeth and shook the bundle in his hoof back and forth threateningly.

It burst into eerie green flames, and La Croix stepped forwards and flung it as hard as he could, the eldritch fireball whapping into the back of the slime-monster before it exploded in a tremendous blast of poisonous light. La Croix winced away, covering his eyes before he looked up... and shouted in horror and denial as the amorphous entity completely ignored the results of the blast, the deep wound he had left behind already rapidly filling in.

La Croix cursed, then gritted his teeth, tossing his hat into the air as he rose both his hooves and concentrated. It landed perfectly in position, but the stallion didn't notice as he concentrated, his hooves thrumming with emerald energy before he shouted: “Y'all had better not ignore me!”

He thrusted his hooves forwards, and green lightning blasted out of his forelimbs, striking violently against the slime and surging wildly over it... and doing absolutely nothing. Again, it failed to draw the monstrosity's attention as it smashed down the door, osmosed through the wall, flooded in through the window... and La Croix dropped forwards to his knees, trembling and staring in disbelief as he heard a single, terrified scream before it was blotted out by the monster's greedy wailing.

He couldn't hurt it with magic or an exorcism, and yet it wasn't harmed by the physical, either. It had just completely ignored the Loa in favor of crunching up two old ponies, likely much more hungry for their flesh and bones than it was for his spiritual energies. Physical as he was, he didn't emit quite the same distinct life force...

And he knew that this nightmare would just keep gobbling down all the organic life it could come across, spreading woe and misery. But that wasn't the worst part: the worst part was those lives could never be freed from the monster's lack-of-consciousness, that they would be trapped inside that sea of hunger and hatred, helping to fuel it, spending an eternity being slowly digested as their emotions, souls, their everything was slowly sapped out of them...

La Croix shouted angrily... then looked up and snarled as something shot by above. It was small and gleamed brightly, seeming to almost eagerly study the house before it spun around to look down at the stallion.

He looked at this wisp, then shouted angrily up at it: “You want to watch me die that bad, Bondye? Then you look at what your bête did to those innocents! I... I won't just stand here and let this happen, y'hear me?”

The zebra turned his snarl back down to the house, watching as the black goo writhed throughout it, seeing spirits trying to leap up and flee... but as La Croix watched, a long, slimy black tendril shattered out a window and lashed around one of these ghosts, yanking the screaming specter out of the air and down into itself. Living or dead, reality or memory... nothing was safe.

The Loa gritted his teeth, then he reached into his cloak before swearing under his breath as he yanked out a flask. He had only one slim chance, even though as far as he knew, only Bondye could exert any kind of control over this horrific beast. But goddammit, he wasn't going to just sit here and do nothing, or run away when he knew the monster would always pursue him, consuming everything in its path. Zecora... Zecora had believed that he was a better person than that, goddammit, even if he still couldn't believe it himself!

La Croix slung the potion towards the house, and it shattered against the steps before exploding in a tremendous bang, the stallion wincing backwards as the intense flames rapidly, violently spread along the old wood of the house.

The monstrosity wailed... but La Croix didn't think it was pain. Maybe irritation, even as the house became a burning bonfire around it... but without hesitation, La Croix pulled a tiny packet out of his cape, gritting his teeth before he closed his eyes and whispered roughly in the old language: “Ancestors now, I plead for your help...”

But he didn't know what else to say, what else to ask for... hell, he couldn't even remember how to properly pray, with all the years it had been. La Croix trembled as he watched the flames spreading over the house, saw ancient wood collapsing, but that horrible, evil thing inside only roiling and slowly shifting its attention back towards La Croix-

“C'est des conneries!” La Croix shouted, and he flung the packet into the flames, snarling: “I ain't askin' you to do the work for me... just tell me how the hell I can hurt that monster! No monster deserves to be protected by a gris-gris like this one is!”

The packet burst apart, and the searing flames roared higher, the ranch house creaking before part of the roof caved in with a tremendous bang. And inside, the monster wailed, and La Croix felt a wild, stupid hope.... before swearing angrily as the beast smashed through the front wall of the ranch house, sending chunks of burning wood in all directions. La Croix staggered backwards as the hideous slime writhed and pulled itself into the sick imitation of Bondye again, lurching down onto the ground as it roared hungrily at La Croix.

The zebra cursed and readied himself, flexing his body and calling up all the energy he could... and then he looked up with a frown as a single drop of water hit his nose. He blinked in surprise, staring at the dark clouds as more droplets fell, pattering over his face as he asked disbelievingly: “The hell is this?”

And then he looked sharply down as the malformed slime-beast wailed in misery, shaking itself back and forth as steam rose up from where the droplets of water hit. La Croix laughed in disbelief, and then his eyes widened as he looked past the monster to see the thick white smoke that was pouring up from the flames around the monster and up into the low-hanging clouds above. The purifiers were rising in that smog, spreading into the clouds above, and falling back down as blessed rain...

His prayer was being answered: whether because the spirits from back home were really that nice, or because of sheer dumb luck, he didn't know nor care. All he could see was that while the fire couldn't boil or pierce the muck, the water was slipping right through the sludgy armor of the monstrosity, burning holes right down into the creature's very spirit.

Then the slime-beast roared, and La Croix winced before leaping backwards when it half-pounced, half-fell towards him, splashing violently down in a great splatter of dark ooze that the zebra narrowly avoided being caught by. He cursed and spun around, then swore again as the monstrosity became more liquid than solid even as the rain started to fall in greater earnest, the slime-beast splashing around in a vicious curl to try and cut off his escape.

La Croix was left with one choice as the beast tried to cut him off from escape through the field: he ran quickly towards the barn, almost ramming into the rickety doors before he shoved wildly against them, trying to pry them open. But they refused to budge, and he heard the slime-beast roaring behind him, closing rapidly in-

La Croix clenched his eyes shut, and he vanished before reappearing with a pop inside the barn, staggering stupidly and then falling on his face in a sprawl. But the sound of the monster smashing into the door with a miserable wail brought him quickly back to his senses, the Loa hurriedly leaping to his hooves and gritting his teeth as he ran for the ladder leading up into the hayloft.

He leapt onto it just as the doors were smashed into again, groaning loudly as black splatters of ooze eagerly wormed their way through the boards of the barn. The sound of the creature drawing back was almost as audible as it sloshed and writhed, then dove viciously forwards again, slamming a second time into the barred doors and this time almost knocking them off their hinges, chunks of wood flying in all directions and letting black ooze spill hurriedly into the barn.

The monster tore several large chunks of wood out of place as its body broke into pieces to rush inside... but it was much slower pulling itself together, and some of it seemed to have been reduced to nothing but filthy, mucky slurry. La Croix grimaced as he leaned carefully over several moldering bales of hay to look uncertainly down at the beast, listening closely as it gurgled and whimpered, studying the strange, oily sheen it had taken on...

It was taking its time pulling itself back together, and La Croix took a silent breath as he drew back, closing his eyes and nervously leaning away, not daring to move. Then he winced as he heard a hissing sound, looking to the side... and staring in horror at the sight of an old, dusty mirror mounted on one support beam, which had not just his own shocked reflection in it, but Cimetaire and Samedi staring out at him and gesturing violently.

La Croix winced at them, and then Samedi violently tapped on his wrist as Cimetaire waved his hooves back and forth... what the hell was all that supposed to mean? The stallion glared at the two, then shivered as he heard a whimpering, followed by a sloshing sound as the monstrosity shifted, and La Croix carefully leaned forwards again, ignoring his brothers as he watched the beast warily.

The slime slithered to a halt just below him, and then a malformed alligator head pushed up out of the ooze as it rasped loudly for breath. La Croix shivered as this gazed back and forth... then suddenly twisted around, and the slime-beast roared hungrily up at La Croix, who swore in shock and threw himself backwards. His hind legs kicked out, knocking the unsteady wall of hay bales forwards, and several crashed down with loud thuds into the monster's slimy body, sending up great splatters of ooze as it howled in fury.

Tentacles of black slime lashed up from the nightmarish pile, whipping outwards and smashing through one of the supports holding up the loft, as the others grabbed wildly at the floor above. And La Croix swore as he barely managed to fling himself backwards as the floor buckled beneath him, then was jerked down to form a ramp as the slime-beast eagerly stretched itself upwards, yanking harder on the broken flooring to try and pull La Croix all the faster down into itself, a monstrous set of jaws forming in the middle of the beast-

La Croix grabbed at his hat as he looked with horror down at the creature, then his eyes widened as he saw the hay bales were only floating in the muck, the stallion gritting his teeth before he leapt off the ramp and onto one of these safe islands before he flung himself hurriedly away.

He hit the ground and rolled, the slime beast snarling and twisting itself after him... but with it, it yanked much of the hayloft, sending bales of straw and chunks of wood smashing down across its murky form. The monster howled in indignation... and pain as well, La Croix thought, as he staggered away from the pile of debris before cursing and looking up as a shudder ran through the walls of the old, creaky barn.

Something cracked somewhere, and the zebra winced before he popped his hat off, reaching into it and hurriedly digging around before he yanked out a potion. But before he could throw it, a rafter smashed down on him from above, striking his shoulder and knocking him sprawling with a shout of pain and disbelief.

The vial flew from his hand and hit the ground only a few feet away, shattering and bursting into flames, and the stallion swore under his breath as he limped backwards, watching with horror as the fire leapt to a hay bale, then the walls, and in moments much of the barn had caught alight.

Another rafter fell, and La Croix stumbled narrowly out of the path... then tripped over his own hat, wincing before he snatched it up... just before a massive surge of black ooze smashed its way upwards with a howl, then started to yank itself towards him, dragging itself over fire and wreckage with single-minded, all-consuming desire.

But the monstrosity was smoking now, its former imperviousness gone, and La Croix gritted his teeth before he flipped his hat down to cradle it in one foreleg, shouting: “I ain't dyin' here alone!”

He dug into his hat, slinging one, two, three potions out into the murky beast even as it surged forwards, ignoring the bottles: but as they were absorbed into its superheated body, the glass jars exploded one after another, making it scream and withdraw for a moment before another rafter fell from the ceiling and smashed down over the black ooze, splitting the freakish entity in half.

Both sides of it wailed miserably and attempted to crawl together, even as chunks of hardened black gunk and broken bones spilled out of its decaying body. It was weakened, and La Croix thought for one wild moment he might actually stand a chance... except then he realized he had not a damn thing left in his hat, and not a single trick to get him out of this mess... unless...

La Croix gritted his teeth... and then he grinned. It was a desperate and terrified expression, and yet there was still some wild surge of hope as he looked at the broken, smoldering doors on the other side of the barn, further than he had the energy to teleport... but that wasn't his only power.

The zebra rose his hooves high, and green lightning sparked along them before he leapt into the air and lashed his forelegs out to either side, pain ripping through his body as his own magic blasted across his body.

And with an emerald flash, La Croix was transformed into an enormous black bird, the Loa flapping his wings wildly and shooting straight ahead, over the burning, fallen timbers, past flame and black ooze that blasted up from the ground in one last, wild attempt to grab him as his lungs filled with smoke and his whole body blazed with anguish and agony...

A moment before he reached the smoking, battered-apart doors, La Croix transformed back into a zebra with a pop, his whole body going rigid before he simply smashed through the ruined, warped wood. He crashed and rolled out into the field with a gasp, then rolled onto his stomach, coughing and wheezing violently even as he dragged himself slowly away on his belly.

He heard the monster scream... and then it was overcome by a much-louder, all-consuming rumble as the barn behind him collapsed, imploding in a great blast of smoke and flames. The fires danced in the falling rain, steaming but fighting to stay alive all the same as La Croix trembled and looked back over his shoulder at the ruins, barely able to believe he had actually... survived.

He breathed weakly in and out, then slowly picked himself up and brushed himself off, wheezing weakly. The fire burned, and even from here, the heat was painful as it seemed to challenge the still-burning ranch house for dominance in this little, ruined field; the rain fell, pattering over both and quickly soaking La Croix, and yet all the same it felt good against his skin, and it seemed to be soothing, not suffocating, those raging fires. They burned on, and the rain fell, opposing forces of nature that somehow seemed to be keeping each other in check.

La Croix shook his head slowly, rubbing uncomfortably at his face before he stumbled forwards and picked up his hat. He brushed it off, scowling a little bit before grumpily reaching up and rubbing a hoof absently through his messy mane several times... and he huffed as both ashes and a few feathers fell out of it, muttering: “Now I see why people get so damn mad when I do that. Still. Surprised I can actually transform my own damn self.”

He shook his head briefly, then looked silently over the ruins of the barn before his eyes roved up to the clouds above. The rain felt so pure and good, felt like it was healing him, soothing him... and on impulse, La Croix opened his mouth, tasting the water, feeling it on his tongue... and then laughing after a moment as he realized he really did taste it. More than that, he could actually smell it, and the fire, and the smoke, and everything that Bondye had taken away...

“But I guess Bondye ain't the king he thinks he is, anyway.” La Croix said softly, and then he smiled a little before murmuring up to the clouds: “Merci. I guess I owe y'all one for helping me deal with that thing... although, y'know, I still did most of the work, hear?”

La Croix chuckled, and then he swirled a bit of the water through his jaws before spitting to the side and taking a long, slow breath: sure, everything stank, but for once in his life he was glad to smell the reek of grass and smoke and manure and even... rot?

The ground beneath him exploded upwards, and La Croix was knocked crashing onto his back with a cry of agony before he stared up in horror as black ooze flooded out of the ground like a geyser, rearing up towards the sky... then screaming in agony, the few skulls and bones that remained attached to the horrific mass all glowing with terrible, toxic light. It twisted back and forth beneath the rain, and La Croix snarled as he rolled over and staggered to his hooves before a black tendril shot suddenly from the mass and slammed across his body.

He was knocked flopping backwards, gasping in agony as his entire body went cold from the contact before the monstrosity twisted itself around, the mass of slime bursting into a wave that surged down towards him. La Croix barely managed to shove himself backwards... but still, the edge of the wave caught him by the hind legs, and he screamed in agony as a hellish pain like he'd never felt before ripped through his entire body, yanking himself helplessly back and forth even as the dark goop lurched forwards and hauled him up into the air, as the writhing slime became a tongue wrapped around his legs, bones formed into teeth in one body-sized jaw that opened eagerly wide to swallow him up-

La Croix seized into his hat and yanked it downwards as he desperately tried to launch himself straight up, and with a sickening plop, he felt his body ripped loose of the monstrosity as he vanished into the not-quite safety of his own headgear. He gasped inside the void, trembling violently as he reached down and grabbed his lower legs, staring in horror at the sight of them: burned raw, one of his hooves almost melted away completely, the other a mangled mess. And steaming, still steaming, still burning from the toxicity of that awful monstrosity as blackness surged over the brim of his hat, and he saw dark gunk beginning to tear through the walls all around him...

He knew what was going to happen, and there was only one thing he could think of doing, yanking his cloak off and wrapping it quickly around his head and shoulders and as much of his body as he could. And a moment later, there was a sensation of being yanked towards something, a whirl of vertigo and pressure-pain, and La Croix clenched his eyes shut and pulled the cloth as tight as he could.

The hat melting in the monstrosity's slimy gullet suddenly exploded as the enchantment in it was destroyed, sending La Croix firing like a cannonball straight through the monster and arcing high into the air. The slime-beast howled in misery, pieces of black matter flying in all directions before it collapsed in a puddle of ooze as La Croix crashed painfully to the ground, bouncing violently several times across the field before he unrolled from the burning cloak.

He shivered on the ground, gasping in pain, his whole body quaking with agony. The cloak was rotting away into nothing already, and it hadn't done nearly enough to protect him from ripping through that monster. And now, he had nothing left to protect him, the zebra staring weakly up at the clouds even as the rain continued to fall, even as blessed water tried to soothe him and mend these horrific damages to his body. Was this all his prayers would accomplish in the end? Was this thing made of pain and suffering, without even a real mind to call its own, that much more powerful than the blessings of the god he'd once loved and served?

La Croix trembled violently as he rolled onto his side, then he coughed a few times before pushing himself up as tears ran down his face... but he had no plans on fighting, or running. He just needed to see how close he had been to stopping this malevolent thing... he just wanted to face his death, even if he'd die crying, on his knees... at least he could say that he didn't try to run away.

The stallion trembled violently as the creature slowly began to pull itself together, before he laughed bitterly as that wisp shot by above again. It circled the area, taking in everything that was going on and apparently unfettered by the blessed rain, and La Croix whispered: “Fine, Bondye. Watch me die. Have your last laugh... but I ain't gonna die afraid. I ain't gonna give you that pleasure, at least.”

“Who says you gonna die at all?” asked a pleasant voice, and La Croix looked up in shock to see Samedi was now standing beside him, smiling pleasantly as he reached up and adjusted his collar. “Always getting in over your head, La Croix. But hey. We're frères, no?”

“Painful as that can be to admit.” Cimetaire's voice added moodily, and La Croix gave a weak laugh as he trembled and looked over at his fellow sibling, a stupid, disbelieving smile spreading over his face before the middle brother leaned on his cane and growled: “Bondye is gonna haul us over the coals for this. I hope you appreciate that, petite frère.”

“We're just respondin' to a call for help, that's all. Settlin' down a monstre that's gone out of control. Now shush up and concentrate.” Samedi replied calmly, raising a hoof, and Cimetaire growled and rose both his own as the black ooze attempted to drag itself upwards, gurgled and gasped as it tried to form into a mockery of Bondye's shape beneath the pouring blessed rain-

Green lightning shot from the extended limbs of both Loa, Samedi narrowing his eyes and Cimetaire baring his teeth, and the monstrous slime gurgled and then screamed, losing its consistency and instead becoming a bubbling mound of dark ooze. It shook itself back and forth as the skeletal remains throughout it screamed... but both Loa were already gasping in exertion, and La Croix swore, shouting: “There ain't no way y'all can win against it! We should run!”

“We're not trying to win, La Croix... we're just holding it off until your cavalry arrives!” Samedi shouted over the crackle of magic and the screams and roars of the black ooze.

La Croix mouthed wordlessly at this, and Cimetaire added darkly, features tense with strain: “Funny, though. You wouldn't need our help if you'd just lasted two minutes longer, you ouaouaron...”

La Croix laughed disbelievingly at this, but he didn't even know what to say... and then both Cimetaire and Samedi gasped again and staggered backwards, green electricity surging over their bodies as they were struck by magical recoil, before Samedi muttered: “Although perhaps we can't entirely blame you. Even hexed, this nightmare is immune to most of our magic.”

“Ain't a hex, Samedi... that's a blessing.” muttered La Croix, shaking his head as the slime-beast gurgled and writhed back and forth, trying to shake off the last of the Loas' magic and regain control over its murky body. “You can't poison poison. You gotta fix it. Ain't no gris-gris on that thing... just... raw hate, and evil, and... Bondye's lies...”

“You're making me wonder if we were too late to save your brain from getting fried, mon ami.” grumbled Cimetaire, and then he whistled sharply over to La Croix as the wisp passed suddenly over their heads. “Hey, tuyau!”

La Croix looked up with a growl as the wisp shot towards the nightmarish mass... and then he stared in surprise as it simply plunged down into the goop, the stallion mouthing wordlessly before the thing he'd mistaken for one of Bondye's eyes exploded in a burst of electricity and powerful anti-magic. The slime-beast squealed in agony at this, writhing back and forth, and La Croix mouthed wordlessly before Samedi and Cimetaire both hit the ground and shoved La Croix down by the shoulders.

A moment later, something immense and metallic crashed down on top of the writhing mass of the monster: it sent up a fine splash of black goo, but the creature's bipedal steel frame was barely stained by the acidic slime: it only straightened, a mane of electricity sparking around a cruel, pale face that La Croix almost recognized.

The creature held one steel claw out as the monster writhed beneath her, and then the metallic horn protruding from its head sparked before a blast of lightning shot from one extended claw and into the monster it was pinning beneath iron hooves. The vile ooze screamed in agony, writhing helplessly, and yet this terrible, synthetic goliath didn't so much as twitch, dealing with a monster that La Croix and his brothers had been helpless against like it was no more than an annoying pest to be swatted.

The skeletons still caught in the black ooze exploded one after the other, and splatters of oily gunk flew in every direction as the monster howled and shrieked. But in only moments, the monstrosity was reduced to nothing more than a few boiling puddles of dark slime, one of which writhed weakly for a second... and then a large, bladed hoof stomped savagely down on it and slowly twisted, grinding the last of the horror out of existence.

And instead, this new, much more terrifying creature was left to replace it, La Croix and his brothers all staring in shock up at this... is that a mare? Oh sweet He Above, what in Your Name is this thing? Oh no, she's looking right at us!

“Uh... merci, madame! And may I say, what... what amazing... what an amazingly powerful and tres belle uh... mare?” La Croix stuttered and cocked his head almost questioningly, then exclaimed hurriedly when the newcomer narrowed her eyes dangerously. “Mare! Mare! What a-”

“Shut up, La Croix.” said the mare icily, and La Croix stared dumbly up at her, wondering how the hell she knew his name.

For the moment, however, the metal mare only turned away and surveyed the field moodily, before Samedi leaned carefully over and whispered: “Nanan here came lookin' for you. Not in Darkwater, no, but she knew well enough how to call to us Loa, and-”

“Do not call me that. I am not your... 'Nanan.' Nor am I 'mamere' or anything else you have called me.” the golem-mare said contemptibly, and Samedi squeaked and dropped his head... and oh, it was almost worth the utter terror La Croix was feeling right now to see Samedi knocked out of his usual calm, cool demeanor.

La Croix gave a weak little giggle, and then he quailed when this terrible creature rounded on him, looking down at him coldly. “You may call me Hecate. I am the Queen of a world known as Decretum, where I have established a place of asylum for... certain gifted individuals.”

The trio of Loa looked dumbly up at Hecate, and Hecate scowled as her mane of electricity and black cables swirled and sparked around her head. Then she rolled her eyes before saying irritably: “I was informed by a mutual... 'friend...' that there was a little lost lamb who might be of some use to me being chased by his former employers. If you come and work for me, then I will protect you, give you a home, teach you to fend for yourself. That's what my orphanage is all about.”

“Orphanage?” La Croix asked dubiously, and Hecate gave a thin smile.

“Yes. Hecate's Orphanage for Wayward Youth.” Hecate looked down at one of her metal claws, absently flexing it before she glanced up and met La Croix's eyes calmly. “There are many worlds out there, La Croix. And I am interested in building an empire that will span across them all... and yet at the same time, none will even know of our existence. Does that interest you?”

La Croix licked his lips slowly... then he looked up hesitantly and gave a faint smile, breathing slowly as he carefully stood. The rain was starting to lighten now, more of a misting than a patter from the sky, but it still gave him enough strength to stand even with his injuries, even with the agony that came from his rear limbs when he put even a little weight on them.

But he wanted to stand for this, as Cimetaire and Samedi looked at him with surprise, before the stallion said quietly: “Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle... but I have a very important promise I kind of made, you see. Hey, rulin' the worlds, that sounds real nice... but... I ain't interested in hurtin' anyone no more. You saved my life, and I would like to repay you, lady. But if you're askin' me to be a thug in your new world order, I ain't gonna do it.”

Hecate looked with slight surprise down at La Croix, and La Croix looked silently back even as Samedi and Cimetaire both gaped in disbelief. For the longest time there was silence, until the rain stopped and starlight pierced the veil of the clouds above... and then Hecate suddenly gave a quiet laugh before saying softly: “Perhaps there's more to you than I thought, Loa. No, ponies annoy and irritate me. I have no desire to rule hordes of them. You can consider our job to be something more like... doing the heavy lifting when worlds can't take care of themselves.”

She paused for a moment, then crossed her metallic arms, tapping one steel claw against her bicep as she continued in a colder voice: “Furthermore, you don't have much of a choice. Your pathetic little moral quandary aside, what else can you do? Where else can you go? Those idiot Loa can't protect you, they won't even be able to protect themselves from Bondye's anger. The beast demons of Helheim would eat you alive. And I highly doubt Valhalla would welcome you or be willing to find a use for you. I am the only possible sanctuary you can find.”

La Croix bit his lip, shifting uneasily as his brothers both looked nervously between La Croix and the gigantic metal mare, and then Samedi cleared his throat and stepped forwards, holding up a hoof and saying awkwardly: “Madame, not to step on any hooves here-”

“You won't, because I don't have any. Like I have no use for you or any interest in your opinion.” Hecate said shortly, and Samedi was again struck dumb, wincing and shrinking his head back into his collar before the sallow, electric-maned creature said distastefully: “My business with you is already complete. I summoned you both from Darkwater to track down La Croix, and you have done so for me. Now you're only wasting my time.”

Hecate stopped, then she simply gestured sharply to the side, and a rift between worlds tore open in reality, La Croix whistling in surprise as the Queen of Decretum finished calmly: “Like this is a waste of time. Let's return to Decretum. One of my Dogmatists can fill you in there on your new duties. Say goodbye to your friends and get moving.”

“Lady, you bossy. But I guess I kind of like that.” La Croix smiled as he limped forwards, before he looked over his shoulder and winked at his stunned brothers. He didn't entirely know why, but... in spite of how big and scary she was, he found himself trusting Hecate. And it wasn't just the fact that she made it very clear that he didn't have anywhere else to go. It was the fact that if she really wanted to, she could easily just pick him up and fling him into that portal... but she was still waiting for him to make his own decision. She was letting him make the choice.

And so, La Croix made his choice, smiling a bit as he looked back towards her and said easily: “There ain't no need to say goodbye to them. I know they gonna be runnin' to try and get their own invitations to this soirée.”

Hecate only grunted as she gestured impatiently at the portal, but La Croix stopped in front of the vortex before he grinned over his shoulder, winking at his brothers before facing ahead as he said proudly: “After all... I always been the one ahead.”

And with that, La Croix vanished into the portal, leaving everything he had ever known behind.

It's Voodoo, Mademoiselle!

Chapter One: It's Voodoo, Mademoiselle!
~BlackRoseRaven

The zebra grinned weakly as he cowered on the marshy ground, while his masters and his brothers – his own brothers! – all laughed at him. He had a battered top hat in his front hooves, and his half cape was stained with muck, several of the large brooches that had held it to his body hanging loosely from the torn material.

He had failed. Well, no, he hadn't really, he'd just been a damned messenger! All he'd done was listen to the big bosses, that was all, it wasn't his fault that things had gone so south... hell, he'd warned them, he'd even warned them that those damn stupid ouaouarons, they couldn't be trusted, they were going to betray them the first chance they had-

“La Croix.” thundered a voice, and the zebra squealed and cowered backwards as a terrible, sickly green spotlight lit up around him. It made his inverted ivory stripes and the skull-like patterning over his face all light up with the same eerie colors, the reverse-patterned zebra whimpering a bit as he looked back and forth... but now, the audience around him was nothing but a mass of silent shadows, and all he could see were their glowing eyes and the glint of charms here and there. “La Croix, you have failed us. You have allowed the cycle to be disrupted. You have violated the very thing you were in charge of protecting, Loa.”

“Mes amis! Ma famille!” La Croix turned out his hooves in supplication as he faced the largest shape in the darkness... one that was so enormous and had such awfully-glowing eyes, it was easy to pick out even with the cloak of shadows concealing his fellow spirits from view. The one who would decide his fate. “Please, oh please, have mercy on this poor Loa! You know he didn't got no choice in what he did! You know it was Nanny Hel, she the traitor, she snuck those three on up out of that black bayou she call home right under our noses-”

“No, under your nose, Baron La Croix.” growled the shape, and La Croix whimpered and dropped flat, staring up in terror as the huge creature shifted, then said with contempt: “Your wheedling and whimpering does not amuse us. You were given one simple task, to keep us informed what was going on. Instead, you lied to us. You convinced us to help the witch. And she has made fools of us.”

“Boss, monsieur, mon seigneur, please! Have mercy on me, it...” La Croix looked desperately back and forth, squirming on the ground before he pleaded: “It was only three souls... hell, one and a half, really, two at the most, with the way they all linked like sausages!”

“Enough!” snarled the voice, and the enormous shape rose itself high, towering over the zebra frozen in the spotlight as he yelped and dropped flat with a whimper. “The quantity does not matter, babbling idiot! Your crime is grave because of your actions, not because of what they have caused! You have betrayed us all with what you have done!”

La Croix quailed and babbled, but none of it was coherent as he covered his head and tried to think of something, anything that he could say. But he was well-aware there was no way he was getting out of this mess now... all he could hope was that the great Bondye would show him mercy, but... well... oh, he'd never seen the big boss so worked up over what, well, really it was such a tiny mistake, anyone could have made it, and he'd honestly been doing his best to report exactly what had been going on so that his fellow Loa and his higher-ups...

And now here he was, a scapegoat, a sacrificial lamb. The zebra trembled a bit... then looked up in surprise as a familiar voice suddenly called out: “Bondye! Bondye, I plead for mercy for mon frère! Aye, he do not deserve it, and aye, you are supreme above us all, Bondye, but all the same, sang est sang, non?”

Great and terrible Bondye rumbled, and La Croix dared to look up, feeling a faint spark of hope as he grinned weakly, looking back and forth through the crowd of spectating specters... but among all the black and swirling shapes, he couldn't make out Baron Samedi anywhere. But he knew, oh, he knew he owed his brother a big one after this...

“Aye, I guess that mean I gotta stick my own neck out too, then. I can't be left looking like a lâche, now can I?” grumbled another voice, and La Croix gave a weak laugh as he looked back and forth... but the voice of his other brother, Baron Cimetaire, seemed to come from everywhere at once, and the shapes in shadow were impossible to make out. “Have mercy for him, Bondye. Il n'est ce pas mal... he's just dumb.”

“Yeah, dumb, I ain't mean to do no wrong, Bondye, I just dumb, muet comme des carpes!” La Croix exclaimed almost cheerfully, sitting quickly up and waving his forelegs almost happily, and then he squeaked when Bondye growled at him, La Croix hurriedly dropping flat and covering his head again with a whimper.

But then the god seemed to settle slowly after a moment, the shape lowering itself towards the ground, those awful glowing eyes half-closing in thought. La Croix looked up worriedly, chewing nervously on his lip as he shifted back and forth before he felt both hope and terror as Bondye rumbled: “Fine. We put it to a vote. Who believes that La Croix should be stripped of his powers and stripped of his life?”

The shadows around La Croix swirled, and then limbs raised unnaturally high with growls and mumbles of agreement. La Croix looked back and forth fearfully, swallowing thickly and tugging at his collar before he whimpered: “Ma famille! Don't do this to me, y'all don't know what I been through-”

“Silence!” Bondye roared, and La Croix squealed and hit the muck again, trembling and staring up at the gigantic shape in the darkness, before the head of their merry little enclave asked calmly: “And who believes La Croix should be given a chance to redeem himself?”

There was silence for a moment... and then two limbs rose with shouts of 'aye!' La Croix looked in their direction with relief that became a reedy giggle when several more limbs rose in the air, the zebra looking hopefully back and forth at the whirling shades and the grumbles of agreement.

“And now you only further my problems, La Croix. We are left with a tie.” Bondye said moodily, and the zebra froze as he looked creakily upwards, staring at the massive shape in the shadows as the rest of the audience murmured to themselves, shifting uncertainly. “So... I will give you both fates.”

“I uh... I don't understand, monseigneur Bondye.” La Croix said nervously, picking up his top hat and uneasily worrying his hooves along the brim. “You... you ain't gonna kill me, then bring me back as a zombie, right? I don't think I'd be a very good zombie, boss.”

Bondye chuckled sourly, then said distastefully: “There, I agree with you, La Croix. No. You shall be given a mission. We shall send you to a world where the cycle is being disrupted, and you will fix it. And if you do not fix it within one month, then you fade away to nothing, Baron La Croix.”

“You got it, boss, you just tell me where to go, what to do, and I go there right now and show 'em all why vite is vite and mort is mort, I be more than glad to prove to y'all there ain't no one who cares more about the Great Balance than me!” La Croix exclaimed hurriedly, leaping to his hooves and grinning brightly as he nodded violently.

The huge shape in the shadows chuckled again at this, and La Croix felt a nervous twitch run through him before the entity said almost silkily: “Good. Then there is no further need to explain anything. Be gone, La Croix.”

La Croix stared, then he yelped when the muddy earth beneath his hooves suddenly gave way, becoming a boiling cauldron of black ooze that the zebra collapsed into with a splash. He howled and yelled, flailing wildly as the dark waters began to churn and swirl, dragging him around and around as he struggled just to keep his head above water.

“W-Wait! Wait! What am I supposed to stop? What am I supposed to do?” La Croix shouted desperately, trying to yank himself out of the grip of the whirlpool, but all he managed to do was get a mouthful of mud and send up a splash of brackish water.

“You are a great protector of the cycle, La Croix. You'll figure it out.” Bondye said disdainfully, and La Croix squealed as he was dragged towards the center of the vortex, flailing wildly before the enormous shape in the shadows added calmly: “You won't be needing your powers, either. After all, you want to prove your worthiness, uphold your dignity, don't you, La Croix?”

“No!” La Croix squealed, and Bondye growled before the huge shape rose a claw, the zebra screaming as green lightning sizzled around his form, an eldritch haze boiling out of his body as he convulsed wildly in the muck.

And a moment later, with one last crackle, one last gulp of black gunk and thunder, the stallion was swallowed up by the vortex before it became nothing but still dark marshland again. The audience of shadows shifted uneasily as Bondye only looked coldly into the eerie circle of green light before he finally held up a claw and clenched it shut.

The light whiffed out, leaving the shadowy audience in complete darkness as Bondye said calmly: “I have made my decision. La Croix lives or dies by his own actions now.”

There was no argument... not even from La Croix, who could still faintly hear Bondye's words as he was dragged down deeper into the mud, trying to shove himself free before his eyes bulged as he realized that the current was shifting, shoving him in a different direction now-

A moment later, La Croix squawked as he was blasted free from the swampy earth in a geyser of dark ooze, flipping head over heels and covered from head-to-hooves in muck. He landed with a loud splat in a sprawl before wincing as more dark mud splashed down over him... and then the wet, rumpled mass of his hat landed with a wet smack on his face, and the zebra groaned in disgust.

Slowly, he picked himself up, then shook himself out as he blearily looked back and forth. He wasn't in Darkwater anymore, though, that was for sure: it looked like he had landed in some kind of forest, full of old trees and chirping life and pretty flowers and... “Oh, merveilleux. How fantastique! I ain't landed not nowhere near civilization!”

La Croix grumbled, then brushed at himself again before scowling up at the blue sky faintly visible through the canopy of trees before he picked up his top hat and shook it violently a few times. It popped out after a moment with a sound like a cork, and La Croix gave a wry smile before shaking himself violently as he concentrated, his eyes glowing unnaturally-

Green lightning shocked over his body, and La Croix froze up with a whimper even as the mud over his body turned to baked clay and fell away in a hail of dust. Then, slowly, he slumped with a gasp as the last of the energy faded from his body, his limbs quaking beneath him as he wheezed: “Guess... guess the boss weren't kidding none 'bout that... I don't feel no more of my power...”

He lowered his head, breathing hard before cursing under his breath and reaching up to rub at his features slowly. His body hurt, and his stomach clenched, and he was shivering and shaking and... “Why do I feel so... incomplet? Wait, my powers... if all my powers be gone, then... does that mean...”

A horrible thought rose in La Croix's mind as the Loa sat back, raising his hooves in front of himself before he asked disbelievingly: “Am I... am I mortal?”

The zebra grasped at his stomach as his cape fell from his shoulders, and then he shook his head violently before patting wildly over his body, and then he overbalanced and landed on his back in a puff of dirt and grass, holding his hooves up in front of his face before he suddenly threw his forelegs out to either side, shouting in a strangled, furious voice: “Why didn't you just kill me, Bondye? Oh, how you expect me to do anything to fix whatever be wrong when I ain't no better now than any o' them dirty little horses?”

Then La Croix simply slumped, breathing hard, unable to think or focus or do anything but stare stupidly up at the sky. He had no idea what he was going to do anymore. He had no idea what he was going to say, what he should think or feel. Part of him wished that Bondye had just killed him outright: now it felt like he hadn't been given a month to live and possibly fix things, but instead a month to suffer before he was executed.

The zebra whimpered a bit to himself, reaching up and scrubbing at his features before he shook his head violently, sitting up and hurriedly brushing himself off even as his loose cape fell free from his body. “No, no, no! I ain't no quitter, I ain't no connard! I won't be made no fool of, I... I'm gonna fix all this here, just you wait and see!”

La Croix shook his hoof furiously up at the sky, and then he looked back and forth before quickly sweeping up his cape, beating the dust and specks of dry mud that remained off it, then he swirled it around his shoulders and tightened the stone brooches with his head raised proudly, leaving it elegantly spilling over one side of his body.

Then he picked up his top hat, holding it high before rolling it down his foreleg and popping it into the air with a shrug of his shoulder at the last second, the hat landing jauntily on his head as he grinned widely to himself. Yeah, he still had all his style, all his brains, all his cunning... what did it matter if he was mortal or not? He'd run rings around these ponies! He'd get things fixed within a week, much less a month... powers, bah, who needed powers?

La Croix nodded firmly, then brushed at himself a few times before puffing out his chest and looking back and forth, getting a better view of his surroundings. A rich, dark forest, full of life, full of the weird and the wonderful, he could feel... maybe this wasn't such a bad place to start after all. After all, sure, he had no powers... but he highly doubted that meant he'd become too clumsy to gather the right reagents for some special gumbo.

The zebra chuckled to himself, rubbing his front hooves together and grinning before he turned his greedy eyes back and forth... then scowled as he realized he had absolutely no clue what some of these flowers were. Others he half-recognized but... oh, it had been such a long damn time since he'd actually had to use this crude, dirty kind of magic instead of just flicking his hooves and using all the powers Bondye had given him as a Loa to get what he wanted...

La Croix grumbled, then he paused before reaching up and pulling off his hat. He shoved his hoof into it... then sighed in relief as his entire limb sank into the hat after a moment, muttering: “Bien. But I'd best be careful. My things get too beaten up, I ain't gonna be able to repair none o' these charms. I'd best play it cool, slippery as a serpent, smooth as spidersilk. I ain't gonna be no loudmouth ouaouaron, no siree.”

The zebra nodded firmly to himself, then he flicked his hat out before resetting it back on his head. He carefully brushed his black-and-white striped mane back, then took a slow breath before muttering: “Okay. First order of business be done, we look presentable. Next, we gonna figure out where the closest ponies are... Bondye ain't gonna drop me too far from where the problem be, after all. He might not like me, but he likes his rules a whole lot.”

La Croix nodded thoughtfully, looking back and forth for any sign of where ponies might be... but all he heard were animals, all he saw around him were trees and plants and greenery. He bit his lip, then growled in irritation before his eyes flicked towards the largest tree in the vicinity, the stallion muttering: “Well, they say that when you ain't able to find your way, you find some high ground. I suppose a high branch will do.”

All the same, he shifted uncomfortably back and forth from hoof-to-hoof, not in the slightest bit excited to try something so... physical. La Croix grumbled under his breath as he approached the base of the tree, then he kicked it nervously a few times before shaking himself quickly out and then looking up almost defiantly. “Okay! Okay, I'm gonna climb you, and you just gonna stay still, y'hear me, tree?”

The tree didn't respond, apart from its leaves rustling a little in the breeze, but La Croix only scowled at it nervously. He felt a strange, vibrant life in this forest... and well, he didn't actually... know much about how things worked in this mortal world. All he knew was that in Darkwater, trees were often a damn sight meaner than his fellow spirits.

He hesitantly reached up and put both front hooves against the bark, and then he sighed in relief when nothing happened. But after a moment, he scowled as he realized he suddenly had another problem to deal with: the nearest branch was a good ten feet in the air, and how the hell was he going to climb this thing with hooves, anyway?

La Croix growled in frustration, then he attempted to hop awkwardly upwards, grabbing wildly at the tree with his front hooves... and all he managed to do was scrape the bark and get a splinter in his ankle, making him yelp and topple away. He held up his wounded foreleg with a wince, then carefully lowered it to his mouth to extract the piece of wood from his skin with a disconsolate mumble.

He hopped back up to his hooves, wrinkling up his muzzle at the taste of the wood... and ponies actually ate vegetation? “Bet they drink swampwater, too! Damn, they must have guts like chèvres!”

He spat to the side a few times, then placed his front hooves back against the trunk of the tree again. He glared at the lowest branch, figuring if he could somehow reach that, he could figure out the rest of the way easily enough... but just as he began to ready himself to attempt to make a wild run up the side of the tree, a voice said mildly: “You don't belong up there with the congregations of squirrels, my friend. I'm sure there are more important meetings you can attend.”

La Croix nearly jumped out of his skin before he whirled around, half-falling over. He caught himself just as he opened his mouth... and stared in disbelief at the zebra standing across from him, mouthing slowly at her.

She had gold hoops in her ears, and gold rings around her neck, and gold bangles around one foreleg. La Croix immediately wondered if she was some kind of royalty, leaning forwards and studying her intently... but then his eyes locked on her rawhide satchel and the plain traveler's cloak hanging loosely out of it, and he instead grinned widely and laughed loudly, shaking his head quickly before he met her gemstone-green eyes and mocked: “Well, fancy seein' a little lady like yourself out here, mademoiselle vielle. Merci, though, for the advice on not climbin' no trees 'round here. I suppose I should indeed leave that up to a chaoui like yourself, eh?”

The stranger's face puckered at this, and then she said sourly: “Funny, for one zebra to call another that. I've never heard such rudeness even from the meanest pony brat.”

“Well, I suppose that's just because you be from the old world, but me, I be part of the nouveau.” La Croix flicked his cape out and let his top hat fall jauntily forwards over one eye, grinning widely as he tipped a wink towards the mare. “We all gotta know our place, oui? Well, my place be above yours, shaman. You should be a-tremblin'! You should be a-shakin'! I got powers you ain't never dreamed of, I got riches, I got charm... and I got friends on the other side.”

“Strange to see a Loa in Equestria of all places: usually you hide behind shadows and false faces.” the mare said distastefully, and La Croix blinked dumbly before he scowled horribly, but the newcomer only shook her head and said softly, as she reached out and touched the root of a nearby tree: “Your gods and mine come from the same native soil; to this day, there mine continue to toil. But your great Bondye left that land behind, taking with him a train of souls of every shape and kind...”

“History, mademoiselle vielle. Ain't got nothing to do with the here or now, so why don't we skip it?” La Croix said moodily, and then he added grouchily: “Do you really have to do that damn rhyming thing, too? Y'all say that I'm rude, but I ain't the one talking in dosey-do.”

“No, you're talking in half one language and chunks of another, using mainly words you'd never dare say to your mother.” the mare retorted, and then she visibly reined herself in before saying more politely: “Perhaps we should try and start anew. My name is Zecora, and who, may I ask, are you?”

The Loa smiled at her mockingly, and then he did a little bow before raising his head and declaring: “My name is Baron La Croix, and I am an overseer of the balance and the dead of Darkwater. Bet you know what that is, now don't you, Zecora, who is so... uh... clearly poor-a!”

Zecora gave him a flat look, and the Loa sniffed disdainfully before he strutted up in front of her, chest puffed out, head raised high as he all-but-ordered: “Now, we gonna make us some rules here. First, mademoiselle vielle, you gonna take me to the damn ponies. Damn ponies been doin' things they ain't supposed to do, and even if you done stopped carin' about the great cycle, people like me and my bosses still do. We gots to keep order to things!”

As the Loa monologued away, Zecora reached calmly back into her satchel, digging around in it before she pulled a simple hide-wrapped container free. La Croix barely paid any attention to her until she shook a bit of black dust out of the container into one upturned hoof, and then he crossed his eyes and stared dumbly down at this before Zecora simply blew the dark dirt into his face.

La Croix yelped, then toppled backwards, wailing and howling as he kicked his legs wildly in all directions. “Mes yeux! Mes yeux! Oh, tu salope! Why? Why did you do that? What did you do, you fou salope? I'm blind! You blinded me!”

“Do I really have to try and explain? I think it should be obvious why you are in pain. And if you continue to call me names in your patois, I may be tempted to see if another dose will give you pause.” Zecora said irritably, then she stepped quickly back out of range when La Croix kicked blindly at her.

“Oh, c'est des conneries!” wailed La Croix, and then he grabbed uselessly at his eyes, which felt wet and sticky and like a thousand mosquitoes had all landed and bit down at once. His whole face, as a matter of fact, felt charred by the... the... “Goofer dust! You used goofer dust on me, you crazy rhyming chaoui! Oh, you wicked sorcière!”

Zecora simply ignored him, looking down at him mildly as he writhed on the ground in helpless pain for a few more moments, and then she sighed and asked distastefully: “Are you truly a Loa from the land where the dead sleep? If you're Darkwater's guardian, then for the dead I must weep.”

La Croix growled in frustration at this... or rather, he tried to. What came out instead was more of a groan as he clutched at his features and flopped a little on the ground, feeling pain spreading down now through his entire body.

Goofer dust: what the hell was she, a priestess, a witchdoctor? He groaned and rubbed violently at his eyes again, but then flinched when the pain only worsened, whining: “You caught me by surprise, you cheating...”

Even though he couldn't see her, the Loa somehow knew that she was just waiting for him to finish that sentence so she could dump another helping of goofer dust on him. So instead, he clamped his mouth shut before holding up his front hooves in a gesture of surrender.

Zecora frowned at him, tilting her head before the Loa mumbled: “Perhaps we can reach an understanding, mademoiselle vielle. You take this hex off me and show me the way to the ponies, I don't call you no more names nor use any of my mighty powers to turn your forest here into a big black bayou, where you'll be the big ol' frog queen.”

“I don't believe you have that kind of power, not even in your mightiest hour. And you are far from that time as you are now... you lost your powers, haven't you? But how?” Zecora asked intently, leaning down and frowning at him.

And the Loa groaned again at this, then he grabbed at his face when he felt another twinge of pain, grumbling: “Oh, yes, mon amie. Take advantage of me, while I'm helpless to defend myself! Y'treat me so poorly for speakin' so poorly of you, but look at this, the moment a strong stallion be done, there y'are, vulture, chewin' up my entrails just like the damn crows, movin' in for the kill faster than a dirty ol' cocodril, trying to-”

“Oh, enough! Very well, I'll wash away the dust... but for this at least, keep still you must.” Zecora grumbled, reaching back and shoving the flask away, digging for only a moment in the satchel before she muttered: “Here, this will do the task... again, silence is all I ask.”

“Dirty sorcière. And hey now, y'also asked me not to-” Then La Croix gargled as some kind of horrible-tasting substance poured into his mouth, the zebra rolling to the side and spitting violently as it burned his tongue like acid before he slumped on his side as his eyes rolled stupidly in his head, feeling his entire face going numb and becoming like an anchor.

“I warned you, La Croix, didn't I say? But no, it seems you always have to have it the hard way.” Zecora grumbled, pouring the rest of the substance over his face. “This is made in part from the roots of several poisonous flowers... you'd think a spirit of the cycle would know better than to tempt nature's powers.”

La Croix gave a few muffled mumbles, and Zecora sighed before replying, as if she'd perfectly understood what the stallion had said: “No, you knew I had a potion I was going to use to wash away the dirt. And all the same you opened up your mouth and started to blurt.”

The Loa huffed and growled uselessly into the ground, but his head now felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, and his limbs had gone all feeble and floppy. But his mind was still well-aware of what was going on, and he flushed with humiliation as he heard Zecora reprimand: “Even if we are more distant cousins than we are siblings, my friend, you should know well to respect your fellow shaman's arts, whether they are to harm or to mend. You could have been spared this humiliation if you'd kept your muzzle shut, but instead here you are, stuck in an embarrassing rut.”

La Croix wanted to... scream or shout or flail or do... anything, but instead all he was able to do was flop a little and whimper helplessly. And oh, how that hurt his pride... but more than that, it sent a splinter of fear into his heart as he realized just how vulnerable he was. He had none of his powers, none of his allies, and he suffered just like the mortals did now...

Zecora ignored the weak wave of one of his front hooves in her direction, instead working on carefully washing away the goofer dust with the purifier. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, her gaze intent as she studied the zebra stallion closely, unsure of how much of what he was saying was true...

To her, he looked like he was dressed up for some fancy costume party, which only accented that unnatural patterning of his body all the more... and his patois hurt her ears, not because he kept swearing away at her, but because there was a rhythm to his voice she almost recognized, one she herself always tried to imitate in reverence to the spirit world she served.

Sure, even if he'd come in claiming he was one of the Loa, she had guessed he was really just a witchdoctor, or perhaps some kind of street magician come to Ponyville to cheat the admittedly-naïve citizenry out of their money and treasures. But his reaction to the goofer dust was surprising: she hadn't bothered with any kind of hex or curse, she had just blown it in his face to try and disorient him and make it clear she knew a little magic of her own.

Instead, he'd been completely blinded and left helpless, and there was no way that goofer dust alone would have been enough to do that. In spite of its dangerous powers, it was still most effective as a medium... at least when it came to dealing with her fellow mortals. Spirits and even more powerful creatures could often be kept at bay by the substance...

She had felt something strange going on in the Everfree Forest. Something that had felt a little like home, but at the same time, had been very different. If La Croix really was a Loa, he definitely could have caused that tingle when he'd entered this reality from the otherworld...

She finished gently scrubbing at his features with the rag in one hoof as La Croix gurgled a little on the ground. It was hard for her to believe that he could actually be a Loa, especially with how he was currently paralyzed by the purifier he'd been dumb enough to inhale... “I don't know if I can trust you, La Croix. About you, there's a certain... je ne c'est quois...”

“Ha. Ha.” La Croix managed to rasp, and then he blinked and smacked his lips a few times before realizing that some of the feeling was starting to come back to his face. He wrinkled up his snout, then attempted to move his limbs: they felt as floppy as noodles and as heavy as stone, but they moved all the same... although all he managed to do was slowly roll over and land with a thump on his other side.

Zecora simply shook her head, then she said dryly: “You are pompous, arrogant, and proud. Your head, I can see, is still clearly in a cloud. But no matter what you are, Loa, zebra, or snake, your destiny is still shaped by the choices that you make.”

La Croix grumbled under his breath, and then he spat a few times to try and get the fuzziness out of his mouth, before he said tiredly: “Tais-toi, mademoiselle vielle. You already made your damn point, I ain't got no powers but I still got all my damn weaknesses. That fou Bondye, he gone and really made the misere.”

Zecora studied La Croix intently for a few moments as the zebra stallion continued to mumble to himself, before she leaned down and asked intently: “So your powers were stripped by Bondye most high? The only thing I can think to ask is: 'why?'”

La Croix scowled at this, and then he groaned before grabbing at his face, feeling a sudden, overwhelming burst of misery as he mumbled: “Oh, it don't even matter none. We Loa be spirits, but I be spirit made flesh! And I got just one month, one month, missy, to figure out what the hell's got Bondye all in a tizzy here in this world!”

Zecora sighed a little at this half-answer, and then she hesitated before saying finally: “Although I already know I'm going to regret what I have to suggest... perhaps we should head to Ponyville, where you can get information and rest?”

“I hate them damn ponies. They ain't no damn good.” La Croix mumbled, and then he scowled up at her as he carefully forced himself up to a sitting position with a wheeze, brushing himself off before frowning and looking moodily down as he saw a medical kit of some kind. But what stood out about it was what it was made of: some kind of thick, synthetic cloth you definitely couldn't find in the forest. “You like to steal, chaoui?”

“A friend gifted me with this pharmaceutical kit. Now try and be polite or I'll leave you where you sit.” Zecora said irritably, glaring at him.

La Croix only chuckled, however, raising a front hoof and replying blandly: “Now I don't mean nothin' by it, I ain't against stealing, or acceptin' charity when you don't need it. I just assumed that a zebra like you, who probably still dances the hokey-pokey when she needs some rain, didn't like to associate with... oh, how should I put this... civilization?”

Zecora stared at the stallion with disbelief as he grinned widely at her, and then she blurted: “How can you be so cruel to your own kin? How can you-”

“No more rhyming!” La Croix groaned, covering his ears and glaring at the mare, and she glowered back at him before he grumbled: “There, see? You don't got to rhyme none. 'Smore annoying than when the ouaouarons sing or the cochon wails or-”

“So gladly spout such sin?” Zecora suddenly finished, glaring over at La Croix, and the stallion twitched before she added irritably: “And now my patience honestly begins to wear thin. La Croix, if you do not stop, I will leave you hanging from a tree by your shin.”

“How in the name of the diable you gonna do that? You sure that your word-searching ain't starting to have an effect on your-” Before La Croix could finish, Zecora briskly turned and yanked a large coil of rope out of her side pack, flinging it to the ground in a puff of dust, and the stallion stared before he cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled: “Y'know, it ain't like you're makin' anything I mighta said 'bout you less true, mademoiselle vielle.”

Zecora only shook her head slowly, then she sighed and said quietly: “You come from a place and a clan that wishes to change... I come from the land that only desires to remain the same. The fact I live alone might seem to you strange, as is the fact I have no desire to seek fortune or fame... but this is the place where I most like to range, in this forest like my own land, a place no hoof can tame.”

La Croix looked grumpily at Zecora, and she looked evenly back before the stallion reached up and grouchily brushed a bit of dirt away from his cape, muttering: “You a real paon, ain't you? Not with your clothes, but with your words. You got it all backwards, mademoiselle vielle. It be the clothes that make the stallion: words ain't nothing but what we use to lure in the suckers.”

“Words are far more powerful than you seem to think... they are what help us understand each other, reach out, form a link.” Zecora said disapprovingly, shaking her head slowly. “You must understand what relationships are... or have you really fallen so far?”

“Hey, you got your way of doin' things, I got mine. Ain't that what we decided on already?” asked La Croix crankily, and then he shook his head quickly before saying grumpily: “Tell you what. You show me to these ponies, then we ain't never got to deal with each other again. Deal?”

“Honestly, La Croix, I wish that I could agree to your deal... but I would be doing my friends a disservice, I feel. Instead, I will accompany you, as a guide... and as long as you remain in Equestria, beside you I will bide.” Zecora scowled a bit, the words tasting sour in her mouth... but there were three problems with La Croix being here that she unfortunately couldn't ignore, as much as she wanted to.

One and two both centered around La Croix himself: on the one hoof, he would try to cheat and steal from the ponies if left unattended. On the other, however, she had no doubt the fragile Loa had utterly no idea how to fend for himself, and stripped of whatever apparently-marvelous powers he'd once possessed, he would make a very easy target for any angry pony to beat on. She loathed La Croix: what she loathed even more was that he was not only a zebra, he was from the spirit world, and her ties to the otherworld meant that she had to honor him... even if he was from the weird side of the family, so to speak.

Thirdly, La Croix said he was here for a reason. Or at least, that was what she'd come to understand, between all his swearing and mocking her and everything else that came out of his mouth. If he really was a Loa, and he really was here because the cycle was in danger, then that meant the ponies might be in danger as well: after all, as much as she cared for them, sometimes they could be just a little bit... well... dumb, for lack of a better word.

Perhaps it was because Zecora had grown up in a place much less rich in resources and luxuries than where she now stood, or because everything was so controlled, their lives outlined for them almost from the day of their birth. They had been good to her, though, and they made her smile and they had, on so many occasions, unknowingly helped her in the mission she had undertaken for her people so many years ago now. She had studied them, and befriended them.

She didn't want to see them in danger... even if, as all too often happened, the ponies had the tendency to create this danger for themselves. They tampered with things they had been told not to, they wandered into the wilds without understanding the dangers they were putting themselves in, they were easily hypnotized by shiny objects and flashing lights. But she felt the same way La Croix clearly did about the cycle: it was something to be protected and maintained.

So her choice was clear: find out what was going on, and then either figure out something to do with La Croix, or what she could do to help protect the Great Balance. Which would also help protect the ponies she'd become fond of and hopefully... “La Croix, just so I am clear... when the balance is restored, will you leave here?”

“Mademoiselle vielle, once I fix whatever Bondye sent me to, I am going back to Darkwater and I ain't never gonna leave that place no more. Ain't no good deed that goes unpunished, and I ain't bien enough to be mal, so instead I gonna be intelligent and just stay home from now on.” La Croix grumbled, reaching up to adjust his top hat... and then he blinked in surprise as he realized it wasn't there, looking back and forth wildly for it.

Zecora rolled her eyes, then she sighed and picked it up from the ground beside her, where she'd put it while the stallion had been blind and paralyzed... which, in her humble opinion, had been a much better way for La Croix to spend his time than awake and on his hooves. “Here. Don't fear.”

“Thank you and... merci beaucoup.” La Croix replied grumpily, snatching it away from her with a baleful look. He looked down at the top hat for a few moments, rolling it gently between his hooves before he closed his eyes and almost gingerly placed it on top of his head.

Once it was back in its rightful place, La Croix settled somewhat, preening a little as he flicked out his cape and checked himself over. Zecora only watched him with a dour expression, until the stallion looked up with a sniff. “Very well. I gonna make a deal with you, cher. I let you come along, but in return, you gonna help me figure out what's goin' on herebouts. You also gonna make me whatever potions and charms I tell you to.”

“No.” Zecora said flatly, and La Croix huffed at her before she added moodily: “I don't use Bò.”

“I ain't asking for that!” La Croix almost whined in return, shaking his head violently. “Don't you know how to work that Voodoo charm, mon amie? Don't you go lyin' to me now, either, I gonna know if you ain't telling me the truth now, hear? Especially since y'already used goofer dust on me.”

“I know of many things that all have origins in my ancestor's land... but I would prefer not to call it 'Voodoo,' you understand. I don't even know why you yourself refer to it with no regard in that patois; words have power, and you should make the distinction between voodoo and vodun, La Croix.”

La Croix bristled at Zecora's tone, then he retorted haughtily: “Maybe I ain't the shallow one here, mademoiselle vielle. Maybe it's you, since you the one puttin' all this worth on words and nonsense, like it all matters to they beyond the veil, like the cocodril ain't gonna eat you if you call him beau instead of belle. There's only one time when you gotta watch what you say, y'hear? And that's when you be courtin' mules.”

“You have pleasant words for everything, don't you my friend?” Zecora asked irritably, and La Croix stuck out his tongue at her childishly, making her sigh. “I already long for when our time spent together will end.”

“Well, you don't have to come along if you don't want to. I be just fine without you.” La Croix retorted pettishly, raising his head proudly. But in spite of his bravado, he felt an uneasy twist inside his stomach: little as he liked to admit it, having a guide would be a major help in just understanding this world he was in... and more than that, whatever else she was, the crazy old zebra lady was some kind of healer or priestess. She had knowledge, skills, and apparently an in with the ponies... he could use her. Annoying rhyming habit or not.

Zecora scowled at him, and La Croix did his best to frown horribly in return... until, finally, the mare sighed and shook her head slowly, saying moodily: “I am not going to bow my head to your insults or your threats... but nor will I allow you to put Ponyville in debt. Very well, La Croix, I'll come with you if I must... let's only hope that you don't try and betray my trust.”

“Kinda hard to betray it when it ain't really there in the first place.” La Croix said sourly, and then he sighed and rolled his eyes when Zecora glared at him, the stallion raising a hoof and promising: “I gonna treat you like you is my boo, together we gonna make fine gris-gris, and I ain't gonna make no trouble for anybody but whoever done screwed up the balance. Fair? Fair! Now, laissez les bon temps rouler, eh?”

La Croix grinned winningly, clapping his front hooves together and looking across at Zecora brightly, and the mare shook her head slowly before she quickly gathered her things up to shove back into her sidepack, deciding it was pointless to try and convince the Loa to behave himself. And yet all the same... “Yes, I suppose, that's fine and very well... I just can't help feeling you're going to make my life a living hell.”

The Loa only gave her a disdainful look, then he huffed when the mare strode calmly past, the stallion reaching up to adjust his top hat before he followed after her with a grumble... and the smallest bit of relief that maybe he wasn't going to have to face this whole catastrophe alone, after all.

Epilogue: With Thanks To Devil's Orchestra

Epilogue: With Thanks To The Devil's Orchestra
~BlackRoseRaven

La Croix sat on the railing of his little balcony, gazing out with awe over this steel paradise. Everything was clean and polished, with drones constantly scouring the city – if not all of Decretum – and cleaning up any messes that were made and ensuring everything was in working order.

It had taken him a long time to get used to, sure. But fou as this whole place was, he kind of liked it, too. It was a world of evil technologies turned to good use... just like Nanny Hecate herself was, really. She pretended she hated being called that but La Croix knew she really liked it. He wasn't as stupid as most of these ouaouarons, after all. He knew Nanny Hecate had a big heart somewhere in that terrifying metal body of hers.

He smiled, then took a bite of the large sandwich in his hooves and chewed with relish. The Orphanage for Wayward Youth, as Hecate called it, had all kinds of people in it, all with only one thing in common: they had nowhere else to go. But they came from every walk of life, and had all kinds of different powers and skills between them: some, like him, who were little more than parlor magicians, to others who could almost be called gods and goddesses in their own right. And Hecate had taken in all of them, and given them sanctuary and the tools to hone their individual talents, and in return they did whatever strange little tasks she had for them across these countless parallel worlds.

They were all being trained and taught how to make the best of their lives, and they were all being given a chance to be a part of something... well... something La Croix didn't entirely understand. Except part of him did: Hecate was some kind of weird... protector. Sure, she looked like a horrible tyrant and expected better-than-best from everyone and everything around her, but appearances could be deceiving. He got the feeling that if Hecate wanted to, she could go around stomping all the worlds she pleased and there wouldn't be anyone out there who could really stop her... well... except maybe a certain trio of ponies...

“But I bet they got somethin' to do with this, too. They always do.” La Croix muttered around the last of his sandwich, and then he shook himself firmly out before smoothing back his new cape and reaching up to primly adjust his matching hat. Then he simply sighed and relaxed, putting his hands in his lap before he glanced over his shoulder curiously as he heard a knock on his apartment door.

“La Croix! Come on, stop dawdling! Hecate wants to meet us at Genesis!” complained a mare's voice, and La Croix laughed loudly at this before he grinned over his shoulder.

“Alright, alright, sweet Cygne! I be there in just a moment, you stop your silly frettin' now!” La Croix called back through the open balcony door. He didn't know if the mare heard him or not, but she knew him well enough by now to figure that he'd probably be there... a little late, sure, and with a little bit of showboating, perhaps, but hey. Laissez les bon temps rouler, right?

With that, La Croix shoved himself off the balcony railing and calmly dove straight down towards the ground, grinning despite himself before he laughed and suddenly stretched out his cloak like wings, catching the air and streaking up through the sky so he could gaze out over the steel world that had become his home, that was filled with light and flash and all that sizzle he had always craved.

And yet, just like it was always the charm hanging around his neck that he was the most aware of and not all his fancy clothes, what he saw most here were the people, the community, the readiness of every single person here to stand together. Past the flashy lights and the fancy technology, he didn't see a brand new world, like the counterfeit cult that Bondye had created: he saw a world just like the one had splintered away from long ago, where everyone had a purpose, everyone worked together, and hope for the future had shone at its brightest.

La Croix smiled, feeling like he had come home as he silently reached up to touch his necklace. He felt like finally, he could move forwards, he could be who he had been meant to be... and as he gradually began to glide back down towards the waiting embrace of the city below, he only hoped that when he found Zecora again, she would find this place just as wonderful as he did.

For now, though, he hoped that she slept well: he could be patient. And as La Croix dropped calmly to the city street, he rose his head high and gazed into the dark night sky. He smiled, and then closed his eyes and said, with determination and warmth resonating in every word: “But no matter where you are, my most special friend... I know that what we have between us ain't ever gonna end.

“No, you and me, mon amour, my friend... we ain't ever gonna come to an end.”Il n'est jamais trop tard pour bien faire.

Fais ce que dois, advienne que pourra.

Il n'y a que les montagnes qui ne se rencontrent jamais.

January 9th, 2014 – January 22nd, 2014

Author's Note

For those curious about the title of the story and the chapter headings, all apart from the epilogue are modified from the album Pandora's Pinata, by Diablo Swing Orchestra, which I basically listened to on repeat while I wrote this.