Return to Darkness

I don’t remember anything after the blackness took me.

The void I entered totally engulfed my consciousness. Anything that might have occurred for the duration was lost to amnesia. Even the smallest spark of thought was extinguished by sleep. Despite my respite, I was by no means rested.

A bone chilling wind cut against my exposed skin. From head to back claw, my body ached all over. Finding myself no longer on the road where I had passed out, I awoke to discover myself strew upon a crag atop the mountain range. From my vantage point, I could spy the rolling hills of the steppe. It was then I came to a conclusion. I assumed that somehow, after having been knocked out by Discord, he had in fact given me the compensation I demanded. The draconequus had delivered me half way to my destination.

Flying over the mountains would be impossible. Far too high, and cold; I had to make my way through the narrow gullies and passes of the Macintosh Mountains, a formidable range that separates what is now Appleoosa from the Badlands. In the time of my voyage, the Macintosh Mountains where called by another name, Imperil Massif. It, by far, would be the most dangerous stretch of the journey. Not only would the elements pose a formidable obstacle, the natives to that region where none the less hospitable. Among the many warring goblin clans and countless mountain giants was a greater threat. Gargoyles would prove the most difficult obstacle. The most ferocious of the stone skins, they are extremely territorial, and in those days usually would kill their victims without warning. From nowhere they stuck. Thousands of tales circulate the region. Stories of whole, hundred pony caravans completely massacred, and giants slaughtered in droves. All who entered the range ran the risk of a hostile encounter with the mountain savages, and I was no exception.

Nearly devoid of life, the mountains where not a place I could afford to stay long. Behind every corner danger lurked. Rock slides, sudden chasms; and steep, slippery slopes into bottomless pits – a single step could kill you.

As I went up and up, the snow drifts grew deeper. Snow reached heights of thirty feet. A sudden gush of wind, or shift in the unstable terrain, and I would have been buried alive in an avalanche.

Fortunately, I was used to hardship. During The Kindling of New Fire, I experience far more grievous times. It was back into the darkness I went. Paradise was just over the mountain. I just had to keep going.

…

By far the greatest danger was monotony. I had spent five entire weeks climbing and climbing; and then climbing some more. The higher I went, the further away my objective seemed. No closer did I get to cresting, and after many days and nights without rest, I decided to take a break.

Frustrated and exhausted, I took shelter in a cave, just off the narrow path. It was a damp, smelly little thing. Plastered in slime and mold, heat from hydrothermal vents spewed noxious gases into a large portion of the cavern. As such, I was forced to sleep near the mouth, almost completely exposed. I did so in fear of asphyxiation.

The sleep I had was well deserved. My body was so numb from physical expenditure, I felt nothing. I couldn’t even scene the hard rock I laid on. It was as if my existence where reduced to but a throbbing head. Against the jagged stone, I laid to rest. Deeper and deeper I fell. Down and down into sleep I went. My eyes closed like castle portcullis, and my body became immobilized like a corps; I slid into a deep slumber.

I faintly remember the dreams I had during that sleep. Mostly, I just remember it being the most soporific thing I’ve ever experienced. What I do remember is this. I felt as if I were being carried, like all the weight and pull of my body left me. I began to rise through the sky like a balloon. Despite my slight fear of heights, only peace and comfort was on my mind. Eventually, I was enveloped by a beautiful aurora. It was of an unprecedented beauty, of which only the mind can conceive. There, in the celestial ethereal, I came to rest.

…

My rested energy was quickly replaced by fear, as I awoke not knowing where I was. Bound and chained to the back wall of an unfamiliar cave, my heart sank. My carelessness, my procrastination, had gotten me captured. I struggled in my arrest, but to no avail. My bindings held firm. Enchanted with runic magic, the cuffs detained me with an anti-shapeshifing hex.

Guess gargoyles aren’t savages after all. They are just shrewd business creatures, as I would come to learn.

Although they fed me, they didn’t speak to me. When not attending to me, they didn’t even make eye contact, much less look my way. My captors paid no attention to my screams, pleas, and insults.

An interesting bunch, their kind spoke very little, and on the rare occasion they did; it was very terse and concise.
Moving very little during the day, the gargoyles subtle glances and gestures composed the majority of their interaction.

I spent maybe fifty years chained to that back wall. They only let me out once of twice during that time. Such rare view of the outside was greatly enjoyed by me.

Times seems to blur during this time. I have not real recollection of any particulars of that place, other than my arrival and departure.

As for my departure, I soon found out why I was being kept for so long. I was to be used as a bargaining chip. Sold into slaver I was. When my new owners arrived, I had had my suspicion for some time.

They where Changelings. The ones who bought me where Red Changelings. Paying in rare gems, and precious metals, of an unprecedented amount, they took custody of me. For what reason, at the time, was unknown to me. I joined several hundred other captors, whom I had no knowledge of, and together we were herded over the crest.

Author's Note

Hope you guy's enjoyed this section.

I've decide to write my story in 1000 - 3000 word chapters, to be releases as individual installments. This is particularly due to my time constraints.