Downed and Daring

by 8thekhip

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Ahuizotl, Adventure, Human, Daring Do, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 18012

A man wakes up in what he believes to be the Amazon Rainforest after surviving a plane crash. This assumption proves rather inaccurate.

A man wakes up in what he believes to be the Amazon Rainforest after surviving a plane crash. He is, of course, wrong. He then links up with Daring Do, discovers that he's probably not even in the same universe anymore, and sets off on an adventure to get home.

A few things get in the way.

Authors notes:

I'm trying to make this story as entertaining as it can be, so if you spot a mistake as you're reading through--be it a spelling issue, grammar issue, or you just simply not understanding what the hay is going on--please do tell me. I appreciate all feedback, criticism, etc. that you can give me. So, before (or after) you hit that downvote button, please do tell me why. I can't fix something if I don't know it's broken.

Also, the cover art is temporary until I find (or make, though that's probably not ideal) something better.

Published 2014-04-11 21:50:03 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-13 20:21:22 UTC

Chapter 1: Downed, But Not Out

A man lay on the ground, oblivious to the cacophony of the jungle around him as its inhabitants all struggled to make themselves heard, croaking, cawing, buzzing and screeching all at once.

Of course, his uncaring slumber couldn’t go on forever, and soon the man found himself upon the precipice of consciousness. He hesitated there, looking out over that terrifying drop to lucidity. Must he really go back? Must he really remember?

He knew that at the bottom of that fall there would be pain, anguish beyond imagination. He knew that if he went back now, he may never again return to this peaceful place. He could just give up here. Turn away from the edge and be at peace forever.

The man frowned. What the heck was he thinking? Peace? He couldn’t care less about peace, because he knew, as well he should, that peace was inseparable from boredom. So, with nary another thought, he leapt from the edge, rushing down, down down….

The man’s eyes opened. The man then screamed in agony, as the pain he was currently experiencing was akin to having been mauled by a gorilla for eight hours straight. After he had let out a satisfactory amount of air, startling many of the animals that were in close proximity to him, he began to hyperventilate.

Erik Herris, age twenty-four, was currently lost and wounded somewhere in what he believed to be the Amazon Rainforest. He was, quite understandably, freaking the heck out.

Okay, Erik, he thought to himself, struggling to slow his rapid puffing and get his mind to work, You’re in the Amazon Rainforest. With no food. Or water. Or a pocket knife. Or really any supplies of any kind.

His breathing, rather than doing anything even akin to slowing down, began to speed up rapidly. Apparently, thinking about how likely he was to die out here really wasn’t the best tactic for calming himself down. A pity, truly, as it was a sure thing that people in survival situations such as this would be in a perpetual state of calm if it were.

So, doing as any good optimist would, he began to think instead of what he did have going for him.

I’m… not dead. That’s good. I also seem to be breathing. Which makes sense when coupled with the fact that I’m not dead. Yeah, it would be pretty weird if I was dead but still breathing. I think that’s called a coma, though. But people wake up from those sometimes, so they’re not really dead, and…

Unfortunately, that tactic failed too, being instead interrupted by a plight that had often plagued him throughout his life: a short attention span.

It took his train of thought a while to circle back around to reality, though its passengers certainly did get a very scenic ride along the way, as Erik found himself thinking about everything from coma patients, to iguanas, to asparagus, to his own train of thought. That last one was pretty silly, though. Who spent time thinking about their own train of thought?

Either way, once he came to his senses he found himself suitably calmed down, though still in a great deal of pain. With his first goal accomplished, though through rather roundabout means, Erik decided to assess the current state of his body.

He began with a rather rudimentary check, just to make sure that his appendages were all still attached. Fortunately, he hadn’t lost a single finger or toe—though to be honest, he wouldn’t have overly minded losing his pinkie toes. Those things were useless. Despite this initial victory, a closer examination revealed a rather troubling fact. That fact being that his favorite pants were completely ruined. And also that he had a huge gash running all the way up the length of his left leg.

He examined the wound more closely, and found that, while it was long and sent searing waves of agony through his body when he touched it, it was in truth quite shallow, and had already begun to scab up.

Even more fortunate was the fact that he didn’t seem to have any other injuries of note, aside from thousands of tiny lacerations running all up and down his body, which burned with the mighty fire of a thousand suns.

But dangit, he was Erik Herris, fantastically handsome explorer extraordinaire! Or, well, fantastically handsome cameraman, but he was filming a nature documentary, so he figured it counted. Erik wasn’t about to let mere pain get the better of him! Oh no, he was going to stand right up and walk—

Erik’s inspiring internal monologue came to an abrupt end when he collapsed back to the ground, sending lances of pain all up and down his body. He whimpered softly.

Well, he still wouldn’t give up! He would walk out of this situation. He just needed some kind of crutch, or walking stick or something. He lifted his head from the ground and began questing with his eyes in search for something he could use for such a purpose. There! He thought to himself as he spotted a tall stick lying about three meters to his right, partially obscured by the thick jungle underbrush. Now all he needed to do was get to it.

So, in a rather laborious and painful manner, he began to drag himself through the brush so as to reach what he was now affectionately referring to as “The Stick of Salvation,” or SoS for short. After a few moments of this, he reached his hand out and wrapped his fingers around the stick, which was surely the most beautifully crafted piece of dead wood that nature had ever conceived.

With his salvation firmly in hand, he began to pull himself back onto his feet, leaning heavily on the SoS. It took a while, and a few collapses, but Erik never gave up hope, and soon came through the ordeal no worse for wear, having conquered the ground and its foul schemes to claim him.

With his most immediate problems out of the way, Erik allowed himself a brief moment to recall how, exactly, he had come to be in his current predicament. He remembered… being in a plane. Yes! He was getting some aerial shots in that beat up old rented plane. Or, well, the plane wasn’t rented per se, as they had hired the pilot who owned the plane, but it was easier to say that it was rented, so dangit, he was going to say that it was rented!

The plane’s ownership aside, he remembered that there had only been three people in it while he was filming. The pilot and himself were, of course, the first two, but then there was also… oh no. Marge had been on that plane. He gritted his teeth at the thought. Marge, his best friend since childhood, had been a researcher, and as such, she had no true reason to be on that plane. He cursed himself for letting her on that rickety death trap. But she had insisted, hadn’t she?

Of course she had. She’d been that way since they were kids, always wanting to experience everything. She had been—no. She was his best friend, and she was still alive out there somewhere.

He began to stumble off in a random direction. He needed to find her. He needed to help her. What if she was hurt? He began to curse incessantly in his mind, for no other reason than to distract him from the images assaulting him. Of her dead, bleeding out on the ground. Or maybe of her, alone in the rainforest with that pilot….

Now, despite what it might seem like, Erik was absolutely sure that he was not attracted in any way to Marge. No, it was more like a brother/sister relationship—which was kind of fitting, as neither of them had any actual siblings, and they had known each other almost from birth. As such, he was just concerned that the pilot might hurt her, as any big brother worth his french toast would. And Erik made the best french toast around.

He shook himself. Stupid attention span! He thought angrily to himself. He clenched his teeth and began to trudge on, not knowing if he was even going in the right direction, not knowing if he was actually just getting farther away from her as she lay face down somew—

He once more had to physically shake himself to stop thinking such unwelcome thoughts. She’s fine, he thought to himself, if I find her, she’ll already have base camp set up. No reason to worry. Marge was always on top of things, nothing could slow her down. Yeah. It would all be fine.

Erik repeated those words to himself over and over in his mind, until it became an almost unconscious action. He began to wander aimlessly, probably doing nothing but going in circles, as he grew more numb to his pain, his thirst, and how terribly hot he was. He only came to his senses again when he began coughing so hard that he doubled over.

He felt like he had a nail being shoved through both of his temples, and thirst was the hammer. He looked around himself, realizing that he had made a grave error. Water! He cursed himself for his own stupidity, It’s the first thing that you’re supposed to do! Find water. Dangit! I got so caught up in looking for Marge that I forgot.

He paused briefly in indecision. Could he really abandon his search for Marge? He snorted. Of course he could. Marge was fine. She already had base camp set up, remember? He chuckled softly. She would never stand for him refusing to take care of himself for her sake. Water it is, he thought.

He strained his ears, hoping to hear the telltale sound of flowing water over the near deafening cries of the wildlife. There! He heard it somewhere off to his… right?

Hoping that he wasn’t making a terrible judgement of the water’s direction, Erik turned right and began his shambling pace once more. It was then that he stopped dead in his tracks, realizing that he had made another horrendous oversight. Snakes. There were a plethora of deadly snakes in the Amazon. More than a plethora. There were, like, a million different snakes that all wanted to bite you, strangle you, swallow you whole, or all of those things at once in the Amazon. How a snake could manage to do all of those things at the same time, he didn’t know, but he most certainly didn’t want to find out.

So, deciding that he really hadn’t been nearly as cautious as one should be when lost in one of the most dangerous places on Earth, he decided to be as attentive as humanly possible from this point on. As for the snakes, he assumed that they would strike out at sudden movement, so he figured that if he took off his shoe he could throw in front of him, and if any snakes bit it, he could get the heck out of there.

Figuring that this was either a solid plan that could never go wrong, or possibly the stupidest plan that had ever been conceived by man, he took off his right shoe—after several tries while balancing heavily on The Stick of Salvation, of course. He then threw the shoe out in front of him. After no vicious snakes leapt from the undergrowth to devour the unwitting footwear, he decided that it was safe to move forward.

The process was slow and tiring, but he figured that it worked, because no snakes ate him by the time he reached the source of that wonderful life giving substance. It appeared to be a small, fast moving stream. He hobbled over to it, dropped the SoS, and collapsed down in front of it before thirstily shoving his entire face under the surface.

Now, he knew as well as anyone that it wasn’t safe to drink water directly from the source—especially rainforest water that, for all he knew, poison dart frogs were taking a bath in—but it looked clear enough, and besides, if you’ve ever hiked through a hot and humid rainforest for half the day, bearing thousands of cuts and bug bites, you know that it’s rather difficult to resist getting your fill.

And get his fill he did, and then some. After that, he took off his other shoe and his socks and put his feet in the stream, then he took off his dirty shirt bandage to inspect his wound. It didn’t look too good. He knew that he ran a serious risk of infection out here, and he hadn’t watched enough Survivorman to know which sap could be used as antiseptic if it did get infected. He just had to hope that it would be fine. But it was rather dirty, and his built up sweat stung the countless lacerations that he bore, so he decided, against his better judgement, to wash himself off in the stream. He accomplished this by washing off one of his now filthy socks, then wiping himself down with it, making extra sure to clean up the gash on his leg.

It felt so nice at that point that he figured that he would either die from dirty water or he wouldn’t, it was just too heavenly to care. After that, he wrapped his leg back up, put his arms behind his head, and looked up at the jungle canopy in contentment, despite his predicament. Just this morning he had been soaring above that canopy, filming the trees passing by below. It had been glorious; no rain, no low hanging clouds, just this gentle mist curling up around the canopy, and the occasional hint of movement from within the jungle’s mysterious depths.

And then everything had gone wrong. It had just seemed like turbulence at first, and he had tried to keep the camera steady by absorbing the shock with his legs, as he had long trained himself to do, but things got out of hand and out of proportion almost immediately after that. All he could remember was a huge noise, followed by intense jostling. He had lost his footing, the door had somehow been torn from its rusty old hinges, then… nothing. He frowned at his memory, or, more appropriately, lack thereof. The best he could guess was that something had hit him in the head and caused him to black out. Maybe the camera?

Erik immediately felt a pang at the loss of the faithful device. It had long kept him company through his career, and even before then, when filming nature had just been a hobby of his.

Either way, that would explain his pounding headache—which had lessened only somewhat after partaking in the stream’s heavenly nectar—as well as the lump that he was now feeling at the base of his skull. How he hadn’t noticed that sooner was anybody’s guess.

It was then that he realized how dark it was getting. Crap, he thought to himself as the jungle around him began to plunge rapidly into darkness. Crap, crap, crap! He frantically looked around for anything that he could use as a shelter, but found nothing. Crap, crap, crap crap crap crap TREE! Aha! An answer to his plight. Nearby was a tree with a low hanging branch that he could perhaps climb onto. It was far from ideal, but it would have to do for the night. He scrambled to his feet, making sure to gather up his scant possessions—namely: The Stick of Salvation, his sock, which as a testament to how hot it was, was now dry, as well as both his shoes. He shoved his socks and shoes on, tucked SoS under his arm, finding that he could now stand without its assistance, though it did hurt like heck, and attempted clamor onto the branch, which was higher up than he had expected. His traitorous muscles protested quite heavily as he did so, showing their true colors as he lost his grip and fell back to the earth, groaning.

It took several tries and some rather colorful language, but eventually he managed to pull himself up onto the branch, the Stick of Salvation clenched in his teeth. Fortunately, it was a fairly thick limb, allowing him to lie down across its length fairly easily. Despite this, he was most certain that he would roll over in his sleep and fall to the very painful looking ground. Thinking fast, he could think of only one solution to this problem: to tie himself to the tree. How exactly would he be able to do that?

He sighed, unwrapped his bandage, and took off his pants before reapplying it. It looked as if his pants were the only available material. He brought one pant leg around the underside of the branch, then grabbed it and pulled it up. After that, he tied the two legs together around his stomach in the only knot that he knew how to tie: the square knot. Of course, it could just as well have been a granny knot, in which case it would come undone the moment he needed it most, sending him to a painful dem—well, not demise, he hoped, but certainly a painful landing.

With his pants securely in place, he yawned and closed his eyes, hugging SoS like a teddy bear, and let sleep take him. As he lay there, he struggled to dispel his worries about Marge. The nightmares he had that night made it rather hard to do so.

***

A pegasus slept soundly within her cabin, sucking her hoof in a most adorable manner, her pith helmet covering her closed eyes. However, one mustn’t allow themselves to be fooled by this display, for this pony was actually one of the most feared inhabitants of the Tenochtitlan Basin, one whose very name inspired fear within the hearts of even the most stout hearted villains. That name, whose very utterance is considered treasonous when spoken within hearing distance of a certain blue cat-monkey, was elegant in its simplicity.

Daring Do.

In truth, this seemingly cute pony was actually a hardened adventurer, whose skills were honed to the point of pure instinct. As such, she was up in a flash the very moment the explosive crash resounded throughout the jungle outside her cabin. She allowed herself only a brief moment of confusion as she paused briefly to wipe her wet hoof on the bed sheets. That done, she sped out of the cabin. While she didn’t really know what had caused the explosion, she had a sneaking suspicion that it had been the doing of her arch-nemesis, Ahuizotl. He always seemed to be behind everything that went wrong, and he had been disturbingly quiet lately.

Upon exiting her home, she immediately took to the sky to see what the cause of the disturbance could be. It was easy enough to spot from above the canopy—thick plumes of smoke were, after all, generally rather hard to miss. Never the one for excessive caution, Daring raced towards the dark pillar, fully expecting Ahuizotl to be waiting for her there.

Once she arrived, however, she noticed a distinct lack of arch-nemeses. She descended, wary of potential threats. After a quick scan of the forest failed to uncover any hidden ambushes, she turned her attention towards the source of the smoke, tilting her head in curiosity.

As far as Daring could tell, it had been some kind of machine, though what purpose it could have served was lost on her. It was made out of metal, and it was in poor shape. Some of what seemed to be its back-end was actually located up in the canopy, and it was bent, dented, and gouged all across its length, not to mention the fact that the entire thing seemed to be rusting. The smoke itself was billowing out of protrusions that were affixed to the sides of the machine. She frowned, moving in closer to get a better look, coughing as she inhaled a bit of wayward smoke. What she saw made her freeze in place. Bodies.

She couldn’t tell exactly what they were, but one thing that was for certain was that they weren’t ponies. She couldn’t tell much due to the obscuring smoke, coupled with how terribly mangled the bodies themselves were, but they seemed distinctly apelike in appearance. Yes, there was a head, a torso, two legs, and two arms. And attached to the end of those arms were… hands. Daring shuddered involuntarily as her eyes fell on the rare appendages. She couldn’t help but think of Ahuizotl when she saw them; couldn’t help imagining them reaching for her from the smoke. She shook her head to clear it of the fantasy, then she turned away from the bodies.

Daring frowned to herself as she began walking away. She didn’t know who or what these creatures had been, but she was sure that they had lives just as real as any pony. And she was equally sure that their deaths were the fault of Ahuizotl. She felt a primal rage creep into her heart at the thought. It was the same rage that had spurred her to thwart Ahuizotl in every action that he decided to take, a righteous anger at the callous actions of a monster.

She assumed that Ahuizotl would be on his way, or at the very least not too far off. Daring decided that if he was, she certainly didn’t want to be the one caught unawares. That decided, she flew up to a nearby tree and perched on one of its branches, lying in wait.

Daring had learned over the years the benefits of patience. She had learned to stay attentive and vigilant for hours on end, watching, waiting for her prey like a hawk. She had also learned, however, when to stop waiting. She decided after precisely three hours and twenty-two minutes that Ahuizotl was, in fact, not coming.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes, her prior rage having dwindled during the long and anticlimactic wait. Despite how much action she put into her books, half of her job was actually just sitting and waiting—often fruitlessly. So, figuring that it was high time to try another tactic, she decided that if Ahuizotl wasn’t going to come to her, she was just going to have to go to him. And even if she did fail to find him, Daring wasn’t overly concerned—Ahuizotl had a tendency to show up at just the wrong time, so she knew she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

That decided, she took to the air, her sharp pegasus eyes discerning as she looked over the nearby area. She cursed to herself. If only she could find his hideout! Then it would only be a matter of sneaking in. As it was, she resigned herself to her search.

--

As it turned out, searching proved fruitless, too. It was a tired and frustrated pegasus that settled down on the upper limbs of a tree that evening, listening to the calming sounds of a stream below her while she watched the sun set. She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out.
What a wasted day. She stomped her hoof in frustration. While much of her job did involve fruitless waiting and searching, it was a rare thing indeed for her to spend an entire day without discovering anything. She was practically seething in anger. Stupid Ahuizotl, she thought to herself. Stupid machine, stupid creatures, stupid unanswered questions. She heard a noise from below—a stick falling to the ground. And stupid trees with their stupid branches!

Daring Do, adventurer extraordinaire, savior of the Tenochtitlan valley countless times over, master of ancient crypts, temples and ruins, was about to end a day with more questions than answers. She was rather upset at the prospect.

In fact, she was so upset that she didn’t hear the various noises sounding below—thumping, grunting, cursing, and other sounds that one might expect from a wounded simian attempting to climb a tree. In fact, it wasn’t until said simian had made it up and fallen asleep that she noticed it, thanks to the fact that she spared a glance downwards.

At first, she merely froze in place when she saw it. It was most assuredly one of the creatures from the destroyed machine, minus being horribly broken and, well, dead. Daring, brash and hungry for answers as always, seized this opportunity to swoop down from her perch and yell at it.

“Hey! You owe me some answers!”

The poor creature awoke to a rather terrifying sight and was, as one might assume, rather startled. In fact, it was so startled that it instinctively tried to scramble away—which didn’t work out well for it, as it was tied to a branch. Rather than escaping as it had planned, it managed only to slide off the side of the branch, where it hung for a moment, saved by its pants, before said pants released it, sending it plummeting to the hard ground below.

It landed with a thump, then lay there for a moment, unmoving. Daring, somewhat concerned for the well being of the creature—though mostly because she couldn’t get any answers out of a corpse—approached it carefully, then nudged it with a hoof.

“Are… you okay?”

The creature’s response to this query was rather tactful, considering the circumstances.

“…Ow.”

And with that, it promptly passed out.

Author's Note

Okay, then. For those of you who didn't read the whole description, this is a rewrite. As such, the first few comments don't really apply to it. I'm not going to delete them unless someone asks, though, because I personally find it annoying when the comments section is clogged up with deleted comments.

Now that that's out of the way, I just want to say that I always appreciate it when people point out my mistakes or offer criticism. Now, I'd appreciate if such comments weren't hateful, but I'll take what I can get. I want to make this story as good as it can be, and I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken.

Hope that you guys enjoyed the first chapter of the rewrite!

Chapter 3: Who Are You?

Erik ran. A thick, palpable darkness surrounded him, pressing in on him, slowing him down. Fear, deep and primal, sent his heart into a galloping frenzy, fueling his muscles as they pushed him forward.

He knew that something was behind him. It wasn’t why he was running, though. He didn’t remember why he was, and he didn’t want to, either. Anything that could make him brave the crushing darkness was something better left forgotten. That was why he didn’t look to see what was behind him.

If he did, he would remember.

So he ran. Ran for hours through the malevolent, suffocating darkness. The thing behind him made no sound, did nothing to alert him to its presence, and yet he felt it there. Following him. Calling out to him.

He tried to deny it. Tried to escape it. It wanted to make him stop running. It wanted him to remember. To remember why he hurt so much.

As he ran he began to think. He remembered a peaceful place. A drop to lucidity. To pain. He could have given up then, been at peace forever. Why hadn’t he? He had been warned of what consciousness would bring. He had known there would be pain. He had known there would be… loss. Even if he tried to convince himself that it would be worth it.

Why hadn’t he stayed?

He tripped in the darkness, seeming to fall in slow motion towards the smooth, obfuscated floor. By reflex, he turned to see what he had tripped over. A camera made its way into his sight. He realized too late the other consequence of his action. He saw the thing that was behind him. A small plane, hovering in the air. As it flew towards him, the darkness parted, revealing his surroundings. He stood in a small clearing surrounded by a thick, humid jungle.

The memory began to play out before him, heedless to his protests. The plane shuddered in midair, then it began to shake violently, tilting to one side.

An object fell from the plane, and while he couldn’t tell from this distance, he knew what it was. A door. It was followed quickly by another object that could only be him. As the shape of his body disappeared in the canopy, the plane continued forwards, it’s flight degrading rapidly as it began to slam into the tops of trees.

It burst through into the clearing, leaving its tail in the canopy and slamming hard into the ground, it’s already battered form forfeiting many of its pieces, which were torn away and scattered on the ground around it.

It came to a rest beside him, allowing him to look straight into the passenger side. He tried to look away, to close his eyes, to do anything to escape what he knew was in there.

But he couldn’t. He saw, sitting in that plane, the reason for his flight through the darkness. He stared into the plane. Marge’s dead eyes stared back at him.

Suddenly, a voice sounded. “Who was she?”

Erik would have responded, but his entire body was suddenly wracked with blinding pain. The jungle began to fade from his vision.

He barely heard the muffled voice through his pain. “And who are you, lost one?”

--

Erik awoke with a start, perspiration clinging to his body, breathing heavy, ragged breaths as the pain slowly faded. He was laying on something soft and comfortable, but he was in no state of mind to register that fact. Something touched his shoulder, prompting him to flinch and attempt to roll away.

The thing that had touched him held him down firmly, but gently. He began to panic, the image of Marge’s blank stare burned into his vision. He couldn’t escape it, it would follow him everywhere, it would - it would—

“Hey, easy there. Calm down, Erik.”

Erik stopped thrashing around. That voice was familiar.

A different face came into view, cutting through the image of those eyes. It smiled at him, and Marge’s visage slowly faded from his vision. He calmed his rapid ventilation as he remembered where he was and whom he was with.

“There we go.” Daring said. “Feeling better?”

Erik nodded, swallowing heavily before replying with a hoarse voice. “What happened? After, you know, Ahuizotl?”

“We ran back to my cottage after giving him the slip. Then you decided to black out. I spent a bit of time patching up that arm of yours after that.” She winced guiltily. “I should have noticed how much blood you were losing sooner.”

Erik waved a hand at her dismissively, sitting up. His head swam as he did so. “No problem. Without you, I’d still be out there in the jungle. And probably dead, too.”

“And I’d be dead without you,” Daring responded, “So it looks like we’re even.”

Erik nodded at that, looking at the far wall. There was a bookcase there, its shelves lined with tomes and knickknacks. They both just sat there for a while, lost in contemplation. Erik’s thoughts actually remained linear, for once, as he reflected on all that had happened.

He’d survived a plane crash, stumbled around like an idiot in the rainforest, discovered that he was on an alien world after having a conversation with a magical pegasus, found out that his best friend was… was dead. Then he’d picked a fight with a pack of big cats and an evil blue feline simian hybrid, punched a tiger in the face, then nearly bled to death on the floor of the magical pegasus’s cabin.

Laying it all out like that… put things in perspective. It felt like so much had happened in such a short time, but really, not much had. The things that had happened were fantastical, ridiculous and horrible, but in the end they could be summed up in a few short words.

Erik had heard that confusion came from having too many things going on at once. This was only somewhat true. In his experience, confusion also came from thinking that too many things were going on at once.

With the situation suddenly seeming much clearer, if still incredibly farfetched, Erik stood. There was something that needed to be done before he went looking for any more answers.

“Daring,” he said as he stood, drawing the attention of the pegasus, “I –” he faltered. “I have to…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to say what needed to be said. He opened his mouth again, but Daring nodded wordlessly in understanding.

He closed his mouth, thankful to be saved from having to explain, then, after gathering the necessary tools, he followed Daring as she led once again led him out of the house and into the jungle.

--

It wasn’t a funeral, exactly. No words were said, and no family or friends aside from Erik attended. The only sounds were shovels striking the ground as the graves were dug. Once that was done, the bodies were extracted from the plane and wrapped in white sheets. Daring then helped Erik lower them into the holes and refill them.

The gravestones were simple wooden planks, which Erik had carved a few words onto. After he finished placing them in the ground, he sat back and stared at them for a while. Daring sat off to the side, leaving him to his silent grieving.

Henrique Balboa

43

Pilot.

1971-2014

R.I.P

Erik frowned at the gravestone. He’d found the man’s information in his wallet, but he knew so little about him. He felt guilty for his thoughts directly after waking up. He couldn’t know whether or not he had been a man of integrity, nor would he ever. The fact that he had immediately distrusted the man being alone with Marge was wrong, and it weighed heavily on his conscious.

He sighed, resolving to make it up to the dead man. He would try to be a more accurate judge of character in the future. It was all he could think to do to redeem himself.

He then looked at the other “stone”, feeling a weight grow in his chest.

Marge Featherstone

26

Researcher. Friend. Sister.

1988-2014

R.I.P

While he had carved the words onto it, to sit back and actually read what was on the plank of wood struck him deeply. Memories leapt forth into his mind. Fun, games, laughter, fighting, crying. He had known Marge his whole life. To have her leave it was like parting with his thumbs.

No, that wasn’t right. It was like being decapitated. Of just being a disembodied head, staring off into the heavens, unable to ascertain his location. Lost. Alone. Unable to function.

He shed no tears. He desperately wanted to. Wanted to sob, and scream, and rant, or do anything to get rid of the terrible sense of hollowness within him. He realized his head wasn’t the only thing missing. So was his heart. At that moment, staring at the fresh graves, he felt only apathy. He couldn’t bring himself to care. There wasn’t anything to care about.

Something gently touched his shoulder. He continued staring, empty.

“I’m sorry,” Daring, the impossible winged horse, said.

Erik once would have scoffed at the idea of being consoled by a talking horse with wings, but now…. Now he just couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by how crazy this situation was. To be honest, he’d accepted it right after he’d learned it wasn’t a dream. No point in continuing to delude himself. He grunted to let the pegasus know he had heard her.

“I, uh…” the pegasus began tactfully, “you want to talk about it?”

Erik furrowed his brow, angry. His best friend just dies, and she, a complete stranger from another planet, thinks he wants to talk to her about it? Who did she think she was, anyway?

Daring sighed. “I guess that’s asking a little much. Sorry. Either way, you probably have some questions for me, right? I’ll answer whatever you want.”

Erik took a deep breath in, calming himself. Hadn’t he just resolved to be a better judge of character? Well, Daring had gone out of her way to both save his life and confront the one who had killed Marge. She’d shown him nothing but respect thus far. Well, aside from when she had thought he might have been in league with Ahuizotl, but that was perfectly justifiable.

Daring wasn’t the one he should be directing his rage at, anyway. Ahuizotl was the one who had killed Marge. And he needed to die.

Besides, answers were something he desperately wanted right now. He paused briefly as he realized his cloak of apathy had been lifted from him. He gave a small, almost imperceptible grin.

“Yeah, some answers would be nice.” He glanced back at the graves one last time, smile falling from his face as he felt a spike of hatred for the monster that was responsible for putting them there. He turned to Daring. “But maybe we could go back to your house, first?” He didn’t want to stick around any longer than he had to. He had information to gather.

Daring nodded, offering him a hoof to help him to his feet, which was somewhat laughable considering that she was half his size. He took it and stood, then followed her back to the cabin.

Soon both the pegasus and the man were seated next to the fireplace, which wasn’t lit, of course, due to the ambient heat of the jungle. Not to mention the fact that it was so humid the air was likely to boil if they started it.

Erik looked Daring right in the eye, not bothering with small talk. “So who is Ahuizotl, and why did he bring me here?”

Daring let out a small sigh. “If I knew that, then I would’ve already told you. The only thing that I can tell you for a fact is that if Ahuizotl did it, it’s bad news.”

Erik frowned at the unsatisfactory answer, then stood and began pacing. “But what could he gain from it? What could he possibly gain from killing…” He trailed off, growling from deep within his throat.

Daring looked at him with concerned eyes. “Calm down before you work yourself up again. I’d rather not be subjected to the same beating you gave Ahuizotl.” She paused. “Nice job with that, by the way.”

Erik grunted, but nevertheless stopped pacing. “Is there anything else you know? Anything at all?”

Daring nodded. “Yeah, I actually managed to get a few words from him before things started going downhill. When I ran into him I seemed to be interrupting some kind of trade between Ahuizotl and another pony. I didn’t get a good look at him, but he ran off with a bag of gold, and Ahuizotl did say something about selling an amulet…. I’d bet my own two wings that had something to do with how you got here.”

“So what,” Erik asked, starting to pace again. “Our only lead is some kind of magical amulet which is in the hands of somebody you didn’t even see?”

“Hooves of somepony” Daring corrected, holding up one of her hooves for reference. “No hands here.”

Erik rolled his eyes in exasperation, but couldn’t stop a small chuckle from escaping his lips at how matter-of-factly the pegasus had said that. “Right. Somepony.” He said, before he paused, halting his pacing once more to look at the pegasus. “Wait a second, aren’t you horses? Because, y’know, your fully grown.”

Daring gave him a strange look.

“You are fully grown, right?”

Daring’s strange look persisted. “No, we’re ponies. Horses live in Saddle Arabia.”

Erik blanched. “Wait wait, how old are you? You’re not like, eight years old or something, right?” He chuckled awkwardly. “Right? You’ve got grey hair, so of course you’re not, because this would be waaay weirder if you were. But you are, because you said that you’re a pony, and not a horse. So this is kind of awk—”

He was cut off by the sound of Daring’s facehoof, which looked really painful, considering the fact that it was pretty much the same thing as hitting herself in the face with a club. “No! Of course I’m fully grown! ‘Pony’ is the name of our species, not something that refers to our age. Honestly, how would you even draw that conclusion? And how would you even know anything about ponies or horses, considering the fact that you’re apparently from another dimension or something?”

Daring suddenly stood, looking at him suspiciously. “Wait, just how do you know that? Are you a spy?” She took a step towards him.

Erik took an involuntary step back, cowering beneath the scrutiny of her intense gaze. “No!” He said, though it came out much more quietly than he would have liked. Maybe a bit higher, too. “Of course not! We had horses back on my own world, and you kind of look like a horse, so I drew the connection!”

“Oh?” Daring said, not so quick to abandon her suspicion. “And why should I believe you? How do I know that you haven’t been working for Ahuizotl this whole time? It would make sense. He knows that I wouldn’t be able to resist getting answers, and I haven’t configured my protective warding to block your species from entering my house.” She began moving forwards, one step at a time.

Erik backed away at the same rate, cowering more and more. “I’d make a terrible spy! I can hardly focus my attention on something for more than two minutes!” Suddenly, he stood up taller. “Besides,” he said, practically growling, “I hate Ahuizotl. And I can swear to you right now that I’m going to make him pay for what he did.”

Daring faltered in her advance, taken somewhat aback by the vehemence present in the human’s speech. After a brief moment, she nodded, chagrined, and backed down. “You’re right, I’m being ridiculous. Sorry about that.” She paused. “Though, you wouldn’t believe how incompetent some of the ponies I fight are, so a terrible spy wouldn’t have been surprising in the slightest.”

Erik sighed, attempting to calm himself down and focus on something other than that stupid, idiotic, jerkfaced, evil, moronic, pitiful—he stopped himself. Yeah, not exactly the best way to calm himself down. He took a deep breath in, then let it out.

“No problem, Daring. I don’t hold it against you. To be honest, I have no idea what I would’ve done if our situations were reversed. I might have just left myself to die out there in the woods. Then he muttered under his breath. “Probably would’ve been better for everyone.”

Daring’s sensitive ears flicked as they picked up the quiet words. She scowled at him. “Don’t be an idiot. After all you’ve been through, it’s a miracle you’re not an incoherent, rambling mess, and yet you saved my life just yesterday.”

He snorted. “Yes, it’s always better to be a coherent rambling mess, isn’t it?”

Daring grinned. “There we go, now you’re getting it.”

Erik allowed himself to relax. This situation might not be what one would call ideal, but he might as well make the best of it. Besides, the small lead he’d gotten concerning his arrival was better than no lead at all. And he’d need every advantage he could get if he was going to go after Ahuizotl and find a way home.

That decided, Erik figured that there was no harm in small talk. He flashed a wide, mostly sincere grin at his mysterious mustard matron. “Now that we’re both done being suspicious and confused, why don’t we sit back down?”

Daring nodded, and soon they were both seated in front of the fireplace once more.

“So,” Erik began, “you have a lot of enemies, right?”

Daring pursed her lips. “It’s in the job description.”

“Right, before I ask you what job that might be, I’ve just got to ask—why the heck to you live in the middle of the woods, in a house that could, according to my estimations, not withstand the entry of a pack of angry raccoons?”

“Well, for one I don’t live next to a pack of angry raccoons, and for another, my cottage is magically warded.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “There goes that ‘M’ word, again. It’s like you could explain anything just by putting that word in front of it. ‘How can you live in the middle of a deadly rainforest?’ ‘I’ve got a magical house’, ‘How could an aircraft from another world be teleported to said deadly rainforest?’ ‘A magical amulet.’ Seriously, everything here is magical.”

Daring rolled her eyes. “Yeah, just figuring that out? Magic’s a natural force, like gravity, or wind. There’s a field of magic across the whole world, and therefore everything in the world is saturated in it.”

“Well, I’m not.” Erik said indignantly. “We don’t have any of this ‘magic’ nonsense back where I come from. We just use the word for entertainment, like in storytelling and stuff.”

“Wait, so there’s no magic where you come from?” Daring asked, incredulous.

“Of course not. It’s not like we need it, anyway.”

“Okay, how do you light your buildings?”

“Electricity.”

“Wait,” Daring said, “like lightning? It’s not like you can use that as a consistent light source.”

Erik held up a finger and waggled it. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss new ideas, my fine, feathered friend. I assure you that electric light bulbs do indeed work.”

Daring groaned. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Alliterating! I thought that it would stop once you came to your senses.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “Alliteration is fun. It’s fantastical fun for the whole family. So is rhyming. Really Daring, stop staring.”

Daring clutched her hooves to her ears as Erik continued on. “Sto-op!” She moaned. “Please, make it stop!”

Erik broke into a hearty fit of laughter at the pegasus’s reaction. “Okay, okay, I’ve stopped. Really, though, what do you have against poetic devices?”

Daring straightened herself out, glaring at him. “You try wandering through an ancient maze in search of a deadly magical artifact with a hyperactive zebra talking your ear off the whole time. It’s pure torture.”

“Sapient zebras, huh?” Erik mused. “Hey, Daring, just what is it that you do? I mean, you live in the middle of a rainforest like some kind of hermit, have no end of enemies, and apparently pick through ancient ruins on a frequent basis. Not to mention that you called yourself ‘Equestria’s number one adventurer’ a while back.”

Daring nodded. “Technically I’m an archeologist funded out of Canterlot—that’s the capitol of Equestria—but really, most of what I do involves risking my life to recover dangerous magical artifacts before they fall into the wrong hooves.”

“Huh. So what kind of things do you do? Aside from wandering through mazes with intelligent zebras.”

Daring rolled her eyes and stood up, walking over to the bookshelf that Erik had noticed earlier. “Calling Zax intelligent is a bit of a stretch.” Daring said, tracing a hoof across the spines of the books on the shelf, before selecting one. She grabbed it in her mouth and brought it over, spitting it out on his lap. “That’ll give you a pretty good idea of what I do.”

Erik frowned as he looked down at the book, noting that it was slightly wet from where she had bit it.

“What is it with you and picking things up with your mouth. It’s really unsanitary, you know.” He said as he turned it around to look at the cover. Then he frowned as he read the title.

“‘Daring Do and the Sapphire Stone’?” He asked, realizing that on the cover was a picture of the mustard yellow pegasus. “‘By A.K. Yearling’?” He looked up at Daring. “Do you have a ghostwriter or something?”

Daring shook her head. “No, I wrote that book. I write about my exploits in the form of an adventure series. It doubles as an autobiography.”

Erik began to leaf through the pages, then began to shake, his face growing red.

Daring, somewhat concerned for Erik’s well being, decided to evaluate his sanity by waving a hoof in his face. “Hey, Erik, you okay? Hello-o?”

Erik, unable to hold it in anymore, released an explosive burst of laughter from his mouth.

“Hah! Heh heh hah! You—heh—you write about yourself—*snort*—in the third person? Like, you just sit down and start talking about yourself in the third person? Have you ever slipped up in real life?”

Daring’s cheeks turned a rosy color beneath her fur as she recalled the numerous occasions when she had done just that. Ahuizotl had laughed so hard that she’d been able to just grab the Idol of Truth off the ground and run off with it. No matter how embarrassing it might be to slip up in front of your friends, it was absolutely mortifying to do so in front of your sworn enemies.

“D-Daring—I mean, I admit nothing!” Daring stammered.

That sent Erik into another round of laughter that lasted so long that he came within mere seconds of asphyxiation.

By the time he finally finished, tears of mirth were streaming down his cheeks, and he was pretty sure that he’d cracked a rib. “What I wouldn’t give to be able to refer to myself in the third person without people assuming I’m crazy. No fair, Daring.”

Daring let out an indignant harumph, blush fading from her cheeks. “Yeah, laugh it up.” She muttered.

“Come on, Daring, there’s nothing to be all embarrassed about. No, the true meaning of embarrassment is lost on most people.”

“And why’s that?” Daring asked, still somewhat cross.

“Because they weren’t there on my tenth birthday.”

Daring raised an eyebrow, now generally curious. “Oh? What happened on your tenth birthday?”

Erik was about to open his mouth so as to regale Daring with all of the spider filled piñatas, er… details, when his stomach preemptively interrupted him. He winced at the sudden spike of pain.

“Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner? I haven’t eaten in about two days….”

Daring facehooved. Erik wondered briefly if she felt pain when she did that. “You know,” she said, “you could have told me that sooner.”

“I got sidetracked.” He said defensively. “Discovering that you’re lost in an alien world can be a rather jarring experience.”

“Personally, I think I’d find it exciting,” Daring said. “Who knows what kind of things you’d get to see? Either way, what do you want to eat?”

Erik grinned.

--

It appeared that Daring Do really liked pancakes. At least, that’s what Erik would assume, given the fact that she was shoveling them into her mouth with extreme vigor.

“Y’know,” she said around a mouthful of pancake, “I never would have believed that the alien that showed up on my doorstep could make such good pancakes from scratch!”

While normally Erik would have commented on her bad table manners, or the fact that he had most certainly not willingly appeared on her doorstep, he opted to hold his tongue, satiated by the fact that yet another had fallen to his culinary prowess.

Their prior conversation resumed shortly after that, and for a time Daring’s house rang out with the sounds of conversation and laughter. Neither Erik nor Daring said anything profound or important, yet by the time they retired for the day, they both felt a great deal better than when this who situation had begun.

Even the pounding headache that developed after the meal was easy to forget as he allowed himself to truly relax for the first time since he had come to this unforgiving place. He would worry about things again tomorrow.

Because that’s when he was going after Ahuizotl.

Chapter 4: A Professional Rescue

Erik awoke with a gasp, perspiration rolling down his forehead and making his ragged clothing cling to his body. Pulsing tendrils of pain forced their way through his every pore, spiking in time with his hammering heart and blinding him to all other sensations.

When the pain finally subsided, he allowed himself a moment to slow down his breathing and, by extension, heart. It was that same dream again. The voice had come once more as the dead eyes glared at him. It had asked him something… something important. He couldn’t remember what it had been.

Even now, details of the dream were fading from his mind, leaving him only with a feeling of helplessness and terror, and the image of those eyes, looking up from the passenger seat, not letting him look away, staring, glaring, accusatory, never to leave him—

He slapped himself. Hard. The sound of the slap rang out in the air, and the sharp pain that it produced pulled his mind out of that traitorous loop. He sat up, wiping sweat from his brow and swallowing heavily. There was something more important that he had to do. Something he was planning….

Ahuizotl. Yes. He was going to kill Ahuizotl. He threw off the thin sheet that covered him and stood up shakily from where he lay on the floor. He stumbled over to the door and placed his hand on the handle, then paused. No, no. This wouldn’t do.

He shook himself again, throwing off the last vestiges of unconsciousness and handing the reigns of his mind to lucidity once again. He had to make sure that Daring was asleep first. He couldn’t let her know that he was leaving. She had been good to him thus far, but he couldn’t drag her into this.

Besides, it’s not like he could leave without the Stick of Salvation and the book she had given him.

This decided, he turned back towards the interior of the house and made his way over to the staircase, at the top of which was Daring’s room. He took a deep breath and began his ascent, attempting to step lightly to avoid triggering any creaking noises. He would just check to make sure she was asleep, then he would slip out the front door. Easy.

A loud squeal rang out as he put his foot down, prompting him to cringe and listen intently for any sign that Daring had awoken. Nothing. He stifled a sigh of relief before it could escape his lips and continued on.

After what seemed an eternity, he made his way high enough up the stairs that he could peak into the room and see Daring’s bed. Sure enough, there was a misshapen lump in the covers, which rose and fell steadily with each of Daring’s breaths.

Satisfied that she wasn’t secretly waiting outside to ambush him as he walked out the door, he made his way back down the stairs with vigilance equal to that of his ascent. As he reached the bottom of the steps, he paused to grab SoS. He then looked down to where Daring’s book lay and frowned as he picked it up and inspected it.

It was too dark to make out any words, but that wasn’t the purpose of his inspection. No, what he needed to do was figure out how in the heck he was supposed to carry this thing around with him while he carried out his plot of vengeance. Preferably without it getting destroyed in the process.

The book was too big to fit in any of his pockets, and he could hardly be expected to just keep it tucked under his arm at all times. So, as any good problem solver would do, he began to look around for something to carry the book in. A bag, or a backpack, or a… hey, that was a nice looking satchel.

He crept over to the seemingly empty satchel and took it in his hands. It was sturdy enough, and a quick probe through its interior proved that it was indeed empty. He paused for a moment to think over whether or not stealing the satchel was necessary. This mostly consisted of him making up excuses and throwing them haphazardly at his unyielding conscience.

I really could you something to carry this book in! He pleaded.

No. His conscience responded.

But I could use it for other supplies, too. Like water!

No.

It would be so useful, though….

No.

…Pretty please?

No.

Finally, bruised, battered and beaten, he withdrew from the battle with his conscience. Fine, he though bitterly, you win.

He set the satchel back down and turned to the door, eyeing it for a moment before striding over. Behind that door lay danger, pain, adventure, and revenge. Behind that door also lay betrayal, for if he crossed that threshold, he would be betraying Daring’s trust. Not to mention the fact that he owed his life to her about twice—no, thrice—over, now.

With one final look back at the interior of the cabin, Erik turned the handle and pushed the door open. Then, looking out into the still dark forest, seeing the dark sky, tinted ever so slightly orange with the dawn, he stepped out to fulfill his destin—

“And where exactly do you think you’re going?”

He spun around and jumped away, letting out a rather [un]manly yelp as he did so. “D-Daring!” He stammered.

“M-me.” She agreed.

“I was, uh… I was…” Erik began, his mind struggling to come up with some kind of at least partially reasonable excuse for his behavior. “Using the bathroom!” He yelled, perhaps louder than he should have, plastering a grin on his face.

“…The bathroom.”

“Why, yes! It’s usually considered hygienic to relieve oneself after awakening!”

“So… you’re going to the bathroom.”

“Yep!”

“At about six in the morning…”

“Uh-huh.”

“In the middle of the rainforest…”

“Er… yes.”

“Which also happens to be one of the most dangerous places in all of Equestria?”

Erik’s grin faltered somewhat. “Yes. All of that.”

Daring continued staring at him. “You do realize that I have a bathroom inside, right?”

Erik’s mind once more began scrambling in a vain attempt to hold the pieces of his ill-conceived excuse together as it began crumbling around him. “Real men go in the bushes!” He blurted.

Awkward silence fell upon the two of them. Daring continued to stare straight into his eyes as he began to sweat and avert his gaze, no longer able to contend with Daring’s freakishly huge eyes.

Soon, the silence grew to be too much for Erik. “Okay, fine! I was leaving so that I could track down Ahuizotl, and get—” he paused for the briefest of moments, “figure out how to get home! You happy now?”

Daring finally averted her gaze and sighed. “I figured you might try something like this. Listen, Erik, I get that this means a lot to you, but… I mean, did you even have a plan?”

Erik bit his lip. “Well, I figured that I’d go back to where we fought him earlier and just kind of… track him down?”

Daring’s facehoof rang out it the relative silence of the jungle. “This is what I’m talking about. You can’t just go out and do things! There’s always a process that you have to go through, and part of that process is planning! Did you even think to pack any food?”

Erik shook his head sheepishly. “No. I, er… I didn’t want to take any from you.”

Daring grumbled something under her breath about a satchel, which just made Erik feel more guilty, before responding.

“Erik, I want to stop Ahuizotl as much as you do—” Daring was cut off by a suddenly vehement Erik, all traces of guilt gone from his voice.

“No, Daring! This-this is important to me! I have to stop him and get home!” He turned away from her. “I don’t expect you to be able to understand.”

He was surprised as Daring hit him on the arm. While she probably didn’t intend to hurt him, being hit at high speeds by what is essentially a bludgeon in a location that had very recently been chewed on by a large predator tends to be painful in the extreme.

“Gah!” He cried out, favoring his arm and dropping to one knee. His state of disorientation was only compounded upon as something was shoved into his face.

“Really? Have you read even a word of this book?”

“Ow….” He whimpered.

“Because if you had,” Daring continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his eyes were watering with pain and he was making several high pitched squeaking noises. “then you would know that I’ve been in this valley fighting Ahuizotl for eight years, now! Eight years! Thwarting plot after plot after plot, making sure that the hundreds of dangerous magical artifacts in this jungle don’t fall into his or one of the other countless villains that come heres’ hooves! If anyone has a reason to hate Ahuizotl, it’s me. I’ve seen what he can do time and time again, and—”

“I’m sorry.”

She stopped. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry.” Erik repeated. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble. I’m sorry for putting you in harm’s way because of my own stupidity. I’m sorry that I’ve been relying on you when I should have been picking myself back up. And most of all, I’m sorry that I’m letting myself forget that my problems aren’t the only problems.”

Daring pulled the book out of his face. “Well then, if that’s the case, you actually didn’t let me finish earlier.”

Erik raised an eyebrow, still holding his throbbing arm.

“I want to stop Ahuizotl as much as you do.” She said again, “Which is why I’ve decided to follow up on our lead.”

“The amulet?” Erik asked, bemused. “How are we supposed to follow up on that? We don’t even know who has it anymore.”

“Well,” Daring began, “when you live somewhere for eight years you tend to meet a few ponies along the way. One of those ponies is named Professor Silver Scroll, a scholar from Canterlot, and he came out here a while ago for some ‘field study’.”

“Okay…?” Erik prompted.

“Basically, if you ever want to know anything about some obscure magical artifact that nopony’s seen for the past thousand years, you ask the Prof. So, the plan is, we go to him and ask him about the amulet, and maybe we can figure out how to get you home. It’ll bring us one step closer, at least.”

Erik nodded slowly, before springing to his feet, grinning wide. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” He asked. “We’re off to see the Prof!”

Daring’s facehoof was loud enough to cause several colorful birds in a nearby tree to take flight.

--

One hour later…

“I thought you said he lived nearby!” Erik complained as he stumbled over a fallen sapling, the satchel that Daring had given him swaying at his side. He felt even worse about almost stealing it now that she had done so, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? It certainly did its job of helping him carry his book, which he had still yet to read.

“He does,” Daring said, pushing a low hanging branch out of her way. “it just takes longer to get places when you’re walking through the jungle.”

Erik blocked the branch before it could whip him in the face, a skill which he had been forced to develop quickly. “Fine, then. Can’t we at least do something to pass the time?”

“You want me to tell you about the Prof, right?”

“Er… I was going to suggest we play I spy, but that works to. In fact, that’s better.”

“Well,” Daring began, “the Prof is… enigmatic. It’s hard to really tell you anything concrete about him, but he does enjoy talking ponies’ ears off.”

Erik nodded from behind Daring. “So, your classic crazy professor.” Already, a mental image had formed in his mind. No doubt he’d have tangled white hair, goggles, and live in some kind of laboratory. Wait, no, that was a mad scientist.

“Not really. To be honest, I find him really uptight, like most ponies from the Canterlot upper crust, except for… well, let’s just say that he has his quirks.”

“What kind of q—” Erik began, only to be silenced by a hoof to the mouth. Fortunately, all of his teeth survived. Unfortunately, he was now tasting everything that Daring had walked in over the past… however long it had been since Daring last washed her hooves.

“Shhh.” She said, taking her hoof out of his mouth and getting low. “I heard something.” She brushed some foliage aside to get a better look at what was ahead while Erik attempted to cleanse his tastebuds.

Just in front of them was a shack quite similar to Daring’s own, the key difference being that the roof was shingled rather than thatched. Erik crouched down to Daring’s level and peered over her shoulder.

What he saw was a white stallion being lead away by a group of Ponies and… well, the word that was coming to mind was Griffons. He’d ask Daring what they were later.

Right now, he had to help that pony—whom he suspected was his best bet for getting home at the moment. He moved forwards, only to be rebuffed by Daring’s forehoof, which had appeared in front of him.

“What are you doing!” She hissed at him. “We can’t take them all at once! Besides, if we wait and follow them, we might be able to figure out who they work for and why they want the Prof.”

Erik frowned, but nodded, consenting to the pegasus’s logic. “So,” he whispered to her, “how often do coincidences like this happen to you?”

Daring continued to watch the thugs drag the Professor further into the foliage. “What? Coincidence?”

“Yeah,” Erik whispered back, “we were walking through the jungle for nearly an hour, and we just happen to arrive right as he’s getting kidnapped?”

Daring frowned, though she didn’t turn towards him. “No, this kind of thing happens all of the time. It’s not a coincidence, it’s just… the way things are, I guess.”

“Must make life a bit more interesting.”

Daring snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.” Then she stood up, her shoulder hitting Erik’s nose as she did so. “C’mon, let’s follow them.”

Erik, clutching his nose and attempting to not yell at her, followed behind as she set off after the henchmen.

After about ten minutes, Erik was certain that the ponies they were following were deaf, as it seemed to him that every leaf and twig he stepped on sounded out as loudly as a gunshot. Erik had no such aural inhibitions, and heard the henchmen’s banter quite clearly, not to mention Silver Scroll’s loud complaining.

“I demand you release me at once, you dirty fillystines! How dare you abduct a scholar!”

“Ah, shuddup!” One of the griffons said. “Bite yer tongue or we’ll bite it for ya!”

“But Prime,” Wailed a small pony, “I dun wanna bite ‘is tongue. That’d be gross!”

The griffon, Prime, turned to glare at the pony, growling deep in his throat. “You shuddup too, Slip, ‘less ya want latrine duty fer the rest o’ the month!”

“Oy,” another, larger pony said, joining the conversation. “Go easy on me bro, you know ‘e ain’t quite right in th’ ‘ead.”

The griffon snorted, and opened his beak to respond just as the Prof began to speak again. “I’ve already demanded to be released three times. If you’re not going to heed me in that regard, at least tell me what it is that you want from me.”

“Oh, you’ll see in jus’ a bit.” The griffon said, before letting out a ragged peal of laughter.

They continued on like that for some time, and in all honesty it was driving Erik absolutely insane. The professor was right there, his captors were deaf, and they were in the perfect position to attack. Yet Daring just crouched and walked along in front of him, somehow managing to move silently across the forest floor, despite her hooves. It was infuriating.

Not to mention the fact that the thugs had the most annoying accents. Was that supposed to be some kind of cross between Cockney and Piratespeak?

Erik’s thoughts, as was inevitably bound to happen at some point, began to wander. Needless to say, he was invested in deep contemplation on butterflies when Daring held her foreleg out to stop him once more. Due to this, coupled with the fact that Daring’s foreleg came up to his stomach, he had the wind knocked out of him and nearly fell over before he came back to himself.

“Hey—” He began, only to be silenced by a hoof in the mouth for the second time that day.

Daring hushed him sharply, gesturing with her head towards the kidnappers. Erik turned to see what she wanted to show him, and frowned deeply as he observed that he had somehow failed to notice that they were standing right outside a fairly large campsite, complete with a fire burning at its center.

The professor stood at the head of the group, shuffling awkwardly now that he was no longer being led forward. Movement from the entrance of a sizable tent caught Erik’s attention, prompting him to look over as a large grey griffon sauntered over. His most striking feature was undoubtedly his intensely scarred face. It looked like it had gone through a meat grinder. Or maybe he’d decided to high five a tiger. With his face.

His beak stretched into a savage grin as he saw the professor. How a beak could stretch was beyond Erik, but he decided that it was best not to question the laws of this place.

“Alright, ya louts, fer once I gotta give it to ye, you’ve done good.”

A ragged cheer broke out amongst the assembled henchmen—Erik debated for a moment whether they were actually henchponies or henchgriffons, but decided that using familiar vernacular was probably bound to be a great deal less confusing—only to be silenced a moment later by a fierce glare from Scar-face.

“Don’t be celebratin’ just yet. We gotta get ‘im to th’ employer first—he ain’t paid us yet, and he ain’t payin’ fer nothin’, so you’d best get t’ work guardin’ th’ prisoner ya lazy hatchlin’s!”

“Aye aye, Hook, sir!” The henchmen shout enthusiastically.

The professor was soon shepherded into a nearby tent, with two guards, one of whom Erik recognized as Prime, standing watch at the entrance, staring resolutely ahead. With that done, the leader, Hook, nodded and reentered his own tent.

Daring got his attention and motioned for him to move further back. Once they were out of the hearing distance of those in the camp, she began to whisper to him. “Okay, we have three of them patrolling and two of them guarding the entrance. Any ideas?”

“I thought you were the one with all the plans.” Erik grumbled.

Daring rolled her eyes. “Well, if we’re working together you might as well pull your own weight.”

Erik consented to her point. No more taking advantage of her hospitality—now was his time to prove that he was worth something.

“Well,” he began, “they’re only guarding the front of the tent, and they don’t actually have anyone inside. Maybe we could try to cut our way into the back of the tent or something?”

Daring took a moment to consider, before shaking her head. “No, they’re bound to hear us if we do that. Though,” she furrowed her brow in thought, “the idea does have merit. I think there’s a way we can make this work.”

I suddenly saw where this was heading. “Wait, you don’t mean to suggest—I’m not gonna be—”

Daring nodded. “Bait.”

Erik slumped his shoulders, defeated. He wasn’t going to argue against it after that whole “pull your own weight” thing. “Fine.” He said, “What do you want me to do?”

Daring grinned.

--

“This is a stupid plan.” Erik murmured to himself bitterly, before plastering a smile on his face and raising his voice to an unrealistic pitch. “‘Oh!’ She says, ‘just go make a few noises and run through the campsite while I take my sweet time!’”

He grit his teeth and furrowed his brow. There was nothing for it, he supposed. Best to just get it out of the way. He glanced back to where Daring was crouched, waiting for the signal. She grinned and waved her hoof back at him. That was it.

He took a deep breath in. Well, here goes nothing.

He sprinted forwards through the camp, yelling loudly and flailing his arms. Hopefully they’d assume he was some kind of freaky wild animal. And hopefully they would also assume that his head wouldn’t look very good hanging over their mantle.

The henchmen all let out cries of surprise as he shot past them, knocking one over as he did so. It took all his willpower not to look back as he heard the sounds of pursuit start up behind him. His mind was filled with an endless mantra as he pumped his legs for all they were worth.

Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap crap!

“Oy!” He heard one of them shout from behind him, “would ya lookit that, Slip! You think it’d look good in th’ taxidermy collection?”

His false animalistic bellowing was soon replaced with very real cries of abject horror. Why would they have a taxidermy collection? That was just… just wrong! He cursed himself as he ran. This was a stupid plan.

Finally, he could take it no more, and risked a glance backwards just in time to see Daring leading a very confused Silver Scroll out of the front of the tent. Apparently, his distraction had proved sufficient to draw even the guards away, meaning that Daring didn’t even have to be sneaky about it.

It also meant that he was now being chased by no less than five thugs, some of whom had wings. He mentally reviewed the plan in his mind.

1) Create distraction
2) Lose any pursuers
3) Rendezvous with Daring

Erik decided that he was a bit hung up on step two. It would have been nice if there had been a bit more elaboration on how exactly he was supposed to do that. But of course, hindsight is 20/20.

His thoughts were interrupted rather abruptly as he tripped over a fallen branch, face planting spectacularly. He rolled over and looked back just in time to see… wait, where did all the henchmen go?

He stood up shakily and brushed himself off, adrenaline still being pumped through his system. He glanced from side to side, but saw nothing. He strained his ears, and heard shouting in the distance.

Something rustled in the bushes to his left, causing him to yelp and jump about three feet in the air.

“Shhh!” Came Daring’s harsh whisper as she came out from behind the bushes. Behind her was the professor, whose eyes were squeezed shut as his horn emitted brilliant silver sparks from its tip. Just as he had taken all this in, the light vanished, and he reopened his eyes and sighed in exhaustion.

“C’mon!” Daring hissed, waving a foreleg over her shoulder as she turned around and began to trot through the woods.

“Wait, wait!” Erik said, whispering loudly, “What just happened? How did—?”

“That would be my doing!” Silver Scroll said, grinning and looking up at me. “Daring Do informed me that the ape creature sprinting through the woods was actually an ally, so I projected an image of you to distract your pursuers.”

“Oh.” Erik said. There really wasn’t much else that he could think to say. Especially now that it was finally dawning on him that the pony that trotted along beside him was, in fact, a unicorn.

“So, Double D, are we by chance regrouping in my study?”

Daring shot the professor a look that could make plants whither. “Don’t call me that, Scroll. And yes, but not for long. Just long enough to grab your notes and get out.”

“My notes?” Scoll said, sounding offended, “You wound me! Am I nothing more than a resource to you?”

Daring just rolled her eyes and began looking ahead again. “Stop it with the melodrama, Scroll. I need your help to figure out a way to send Erik home.”

“Erik?” The professor asked, confused.

Erik cleared his throat. “That, ah, that would be me.”

“Oh!” The unicorn exclaimed, earning a violent shush from Daring, “How terribly rude of me!” He cleared his throat and stopped in front of me, causing me to stumble as I halted my horizontal momentum. “A pleasure to meet you Erik, my name is Silver Scroll, professor of ancient magical artifacts at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

“Er…” Erik began tactfully, “The pleasure is mutual. I’m Erik Herris, incredibly lost and confused wildlife photographer.”

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Daring said from a bit ahead of them, “why don’t we go make sure that the good professor’s life’s work isn’t stolen while we’re chatting!”

“Oh my!” The professor exclaimed. “They wouldn’t dare!”

“I’m afraid they would.” Daring said. “So let’s hurry up!”

The rest of the trip was silent, save for the sounds that Erik made every time he stumbled over a root, and whenever he slapped at a mosquito. It wasn’t long before they arrived at Silver Scroll’s cabin, grabbed his “notes,” which were in actuality several huge boxes full of assorted papers, and began to lug them back to Daring’s home.

Erik spent most of the return trip envying the professor’s ability to just float the boxes along beside him, and collapsed immediately upon walking through Daring’s door.

“Never,” he panted from where he lay, “make me do that again. Do you know how heavy that box was? And it took over an hour to get back!”

“Oh, stop complaining,” Daring said, “it’s your own fault you’re out of shape.”

“Quite.” The professor agreed, looking no worse for wear.

And Erik had thought academic types were supposed to be the ones with no endurance. He silently resolved to get more fit even as he cursed their names.

“Alright,” Scroll began, “what artifact were you hoping to look into? It wouldn’t happen to be the Demon’s Amulet, would it?”

Daring raised an incredulous eyebrow. “We were looking for an amulet, yes. Apparently Ahuizotl used one to summon Erik here. How did you know that?”

The professor frowned, “Just something those ruffians who abducted me mentioned. And by that I mean they demanded I tell them about it. When I refused, they shoved that sack over my head and led me blindly through the woods!” He snorted in disdain.

“So what does it do?” Daring asked, getting straight to the point.

“Well, I couldn’t tell you off the top of my head, unfortunately. It happens to be a truly ancient artifact—from the Discordant era. I’ll have to find it in my notes to tell you any more than that.”

Erik finally picked himself up off the floor, reasserting some of his usual flippancy. “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s get a-searching!”

It was nearly an hour later when the professor let out a triumphant “Aha!” and pulled out a yellowed piece of parchment. Soon, Erik, Daring and Scroll had maneuvered across the floor—now littered with papers—to Daring’s table, where they all looked at the parchment. Erik frowned as he realized that he couldn’t even begin to decipher the text.

“What language is this even written in?” He asked.

Daring glanced up at him with surprise. “Equish—it just uses the Old Equish alphabet. You can’t read it? You’re supposed to learn this stuff in kindergarten.”

Erik snorted. “I can read normal English just fine. Why would you need to have two different alphabets anyway?” He groaned in frustration. “I should probably stop being bothered by how messed up this world is, but… it’s really starting to get to me.”

Silver Scroll cleared his throat, capturing their attention once more. “Moving on, let’s see what we can discover, shall we?” With that, he began reading. “The Demon Amulet, or Demon’s Amulet. An incredibly dangerous artifact from the Discordant Era said to summon an army of demons. It was given to an evil unicorn king named ‘Darkness,’ or ‘Shadow.’ I believe that it’s referring to King Sombra here.”

“Either way, he received it from a powerful being from Tartarus, and used it in an attempt to overthrow Discord. Unfortunately for him, it seems that the army it summoned was unaligned, and turned on him. The demons were eventually sent back to their own realm when Princess Luna herself used the amulet shortly before she and Celestia defeated the Spirit of Chaos for good.”

“I’m not a demon.” Erik pointed out. “Are you sure this is the right Amulet?”

The professor snorted. “You think ponies would know the difference after seeing you for the first time?”

“I… guess not.” Erik agreed grudgingly. “So what, we have to find the amulet and use it again? That’ll get me home?”

“It’s safe to assume that it would.” The professor said.

Daring clapped Erik on the back. “Looks like we know how to get you back! Now all we have to do is figure out who sent those thugs, track them down and recover the amulet!”

“Yes, nothing difficult.” Erik grumbled sarcastically. Nevertheless, he allowed himself a small smile. It might not be an easy one to travel, but he’d finally found a path home.

“Well, then!” Said Daring enthusiastically. “Tomorrow we go back to that camp and see if we can find a few clues.”

“Let’s just hope that it goes better than last time.” Erik said. “I don’t fancy being added to somebody’s taxidermy collection.”

With the plan agreed upon, Daring scrounged up another pillow and some sheets for the professor—who complained quite vocally at the lack of a mattress—and they laid down to rest up for tomorrow. It was, after all, another big day.

Erik could only hope his sleep would be dreamless.

Author's Note

Hey, all! It took longer than I had both expected and hoped to get this chapter up, so I apologize for that. Just be glad that you weren't present for the myriad of technical difficulties I had. I swear, I'm gonna have to call an exorcist to deal with my computer.

All that aside, I hope that you guys enjoyed reading! Tune in next time for whatever I decide to title chapter 5!

Chapter 2: Honey, Where Are My Pants?

Erik’s eyelids fluttered open lethargically, hesitant to lift themselves from their comfortable perch over his eyes. While he could now see the world, unconsciousness was still selfishly clinging to his mind, and so it took a moment for him to really register any of his surroundings.

The first thing that he did manage to take note of was that the roof appeared to be made of thatch. The second thing he noticed was that the Stick of Salvation was lying next to him. The third and thing he realized was that he had no pants.

Unconsciousness was so surprised that it let go of his mind, and immediately he was assaulted with memories of the previous day, right up until his traitorous pants had sent him tumbling to the ground. The evil garments were probably still hanging from that branch.

I guess it was a granny knot, he thought to himself. Figures.

He lay there a moment longer as he realized he felt much better than he had yesterday. He couldn’t even feel anything beyond a dull ache from where he had sliced his leg open, and his back was almost unnoticeably sore, despite the fall he had taken last night. He frowned to himself and sat up to inspect his wounds.

His frown only deepened as he saw that, while he had a large bruise, the cut that had extended down the entire length of his leg was completely gone. In fact, all of his cuts were gone. He also appeared to have some strange, smelly substance slathered across his arms and legs, which he assumed had contributed to his miraculous healing.

But who could have applied this ridiculously potent ointment to him? Erik wondered briefly if someone had found him lying in the woods and brought him to their home. He certainly couldn’t remember anything like that happening. He couldn’t remember much of anything after he had fallen. Except… something standing over him. Something that looked almost like—

His thoughts were cut off as he was forcibly shoved to the ground by something that landed on top of him. The same something, in fact, that he had just been thinking about. A pegasus, or at the very least something that highly resembled one. It was much smaller than a normal horse, though, and was a light tan. It also seemed to be wearing a pith helmet. How quaint.

As he was still attempting to process exactly what was happening, the creature that stood on top of him did something that would have completely startled him out of his wits, had he not heard it once before. It spoke.

“Alright,” it said in a voice that was, quite undeniably, female, “You owe me some answers.”

It took him a small moment to respond before he addressed the most relevant issue he could think of.

“Where are my pants?”

Erik couldn’t be sure, due to his lack of familiarity with mythological horses’ facial expressions, but the pegasus seemed to have an expression of stunned confusion on it’s face. “You mean, you actually wear those things?”

Erik nodded as best he could from his prone and immobilized position. “Of course. Pants are probably the most ingenious invention of all time. Who knows where humanity would be without them?”

The pegasus shook its head firmly, once more adopting a serious expression. “Forget about the pants. What do you know about Ahuizotl? Is he the one that brought you and your weird broken machine?”

Erik briefly considered persisting in his pants related inquiries, but thought better of it as he realized what the mythological animal on top of him had said. “You found the plane! What about my friends, do you know where they are? Did you see them, too?”

A brief look of concern seemed to flash across the pegasus’s face for a brief moment, but Erik decided that he had merely imagined it. It’s not like he could really interpret its facial expressions. In fact, he figured that he was hallucinating, and that the ancient Greek anomaly before him was little more than the result of his fall the other day.

“Yes, I saw them. Now answer the question! Did Ahuizotl send you?”

Erik figured that he might as well humor the hallucination, since he really had nothing better to do. He grinned. “I’m not telling you anything unless you promise to take me to them.”

He knew what this was. He’d been startled by some noise or another, fallen out of the tree, and was now lying unconscious in the underbrush having some kind of trauma induced dream. Soon the pegasus would take him to base camp where he’d meet Marge and that pilot with their own magical horses, and they’d ride off into the sunset to conquer Mars.

The pegasus stomped a frustrated hoof on the ground right next to his face, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Fine.” It said, finally. “Now answer my questions.”

Erik nodded. “Dunno who this ‘Ahuizotl’ is, but he sounds like the kind of guy who can throw a killer party.”

The mythical equine took this in stride, which Erik took as further proof that he was indeed dreaming. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Erik cocked an eyebrow, still smiling. “So he actually does throw parties?”

The winged beast nodded. “Killer ones. In that he’s always trying to kill someone. So you honestly don’t know?”

Erik shook his head. “Now, take me to my friends, my wonderful winged warden!”

“Sorry, but no. I’ve still got more questions for you.”

Erik sighed, growing somewhat frustrated. Why couldn’t this dream just get a move on?

“Proceed.” He said.

“Right,” the pegasus said, leaning in close, “who and what are you, why are you here, and what was that weird machine?”

Erik elected to answer those questions as fast as he possibly could, in hopes that he could perhaps get the dream to move on. “Erik Herris, human, fell from the sky, airplane.”

The horse gritted its teeth and made a “continue…” gesture with its hoof. “Would you mind elaborating, maybe?” It asked in a falsely sweet voice.

“Well, my great greek girl, whatever is it that you want me to elaborate on?”

The horse stomped its hoof and put its face right up against his own, once more shoving him to the ground. “You know very well what I mean. Why did you fall from the sky, and what’s the ‘airplane’ supposed to do? Is it some kind of death machine?”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this dream was getting. A magical horse with an attitude? It was just too rich. Ah, mind, he thought to himself, I need to give you a raise.

“An airplane is a flying machine, which I was, quite surprisingly, flying in. I fell out of it while I was filming the rainforest from above for a wildlife documentary. I then stumbled through the woods for a while, found some water, and decided to bed down on a branch. I then fell out of that branch and passed out, and now I’m having a wonderful little trauma dream.”

Realization dawned in the pegasus’s eyes as she backed off of him. She looked him in the eye. “Listen, I get that this must seem like a dream to you, but it’s not.”

Erik waved a dismissive hand in the air. “People in dreams always say that.”

It was at that moment that something struck him in the face. Hard. He twisted to the side, his head thumping onto the wooden floor upon which he lay. He immediately sat back up and yelled at the offending hoofed beast.

“What in the heck was that for? That hurt!”

The pegasus, stood off to the side, regarding it’s hoof casually. “Really? And what’s something that you almost never feel in a dream.”

Erik paused and reached a tentative hand to his aching jaw. “Pain.” He whispered. He looked back to the horse and squeezed his eyes shut.

It was still there when he reopened them.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” He looked about him, stunned.

“Welcome to reality.” The pegasus said.

“But then, where am I? And how do you,” he said, pointing to the impossible ancient Greek apparition before him, “even exist!”

The pegasus snorted and gestured around it. “Welcome to my humble abode, home of Equestria’s number one explorer.” She put a hoof out to help him up. “Name’s Daring Do.”

Erik took the hoof and frowned as he stood, still rubbing his sore jaw. “I guess I owe you an apology then, er… miss Do.”

“Just call me Daring.” The pegasus responded.

“Right. Well.” He worked his mouth, at a loss for words for a moment. “I guess… I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore.”

Daring the magical pegasus raised an eyebrow. “Is that where you’re from then? Kansas?”

“No. It’s—never mind. I’m from America, on a planet called Earth.” He adopted a concerned expression. “I’m guessing I’m not there anymore, right?”

Daring only shook her head, though her ears seemed to perk up somewhat. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but he cut her off.

“You promised that you’d take me to my friends if I answered your questions?”

“I… did.” Daring answered carefully.

“Then take me to them. Please.”

Daring told him to follow her, then walked over to the door of her cabin. Erik followed after, grabbing SoS before he did so. She opened it for him, letting him walk dazedly out into the dampened light of the jungle.

“Are you absolutely sure that you want to go? You… might see something you don’t like.” Daring asked, biting her lip nervously.

Erik merely gave her a questioning glance, for he knew quite well that Marge was fine. She’d already set up base camp, after all. “Of course I’m sure. Lead the way.”

Daring walked outside and shut the door behind her, then began to walk out into the jungle. Erik halted where he stood, looking down at his bare legs. It seemed to take the equine in front of him a moment to realize that he wasn’t following.

“Are you coming, or what?” She asked, turning her head back towards him.

“I’m still not wearing my pants.” He said, still looking down at where they customarily sat against his legs. He grew suddenly very self-conscious. He must look ridiculous, walking around with shoes on his feet, but no pants. It just wasn’t natural. Not that walking around without pants or shoes on was natural.

“Yeah, so?”

He looked up at her skeptically. “I’m indecent!”

The pegasus was silent for a moment, before she face-palm—er, hooved. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Erik said, crossing his arms for added effect. He turned his head up. “I’m not going anywhere without my pants on, and that’s that.”

Daring sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll go get your pants. I’ll be back in just a moment.” With that, the winged impossibility sped off into the air to get his pants.

This gave Erik a little time to observe Daring’s shack. It seemed to have two stories, and, yes, a thatched roof. It also had a thin chimney sticking up out of the straw, though it was, oddly enough, tilted. Right now he stood on a large stone which was set into the ground. He looked around and spotted several other such stones arranged in something vaguely resembling a pathway, leading up to the house.

All in all, he deduced that it looked like some kind of idyllic cottage. In a rainforest.

Daring returned far more quickly than he had assumed she would, grasping his pants in her teeth. She landed in front of him and spat them out, a disgusted look on her face.

“That was absolutely vile.” She said.

Erik snorted, grabbing the pants and pulling them up with some difficulty, due to the fact that he was still wearing shoes. “It’s your own fault for carrying them in your mouth.”

The pegasus opened her mouth to argue, but stopped, realization dawning on her features. Serves her right. Seriously, who picks up a pair of pants of unknown origin with their mouth?

Eventually, he managed to get the pants all the way up his legs. “All right,” he said, “I’m ready. Let’s be off.”

Daring turned without another word and once more began leading him into the jungle. They walked along silently for a while, before Erik spoke up.

“So, who’s this ‘Ouchi Total’ guy you mentioned earlier? He’s got a weird name.”

“Ahuizotl,” Daring corrected, “is my arch-nemesis. He lives out in the jungle somewhere, but I haven’t found his hideout yet. He tries to kill me on a regular basis, mostly because I try to stop him from killing everyone else.”

“Doesn’t sound like a nice guy.” Erik commented.

Daring shook her head. “He’s always up to something, but he’s been strangely quiet lately. I think that he’s the one that brought you here. To be honest, it’s about time he did something.”

Erik raised an eyebrow at that. “So he’s some kind of… super villain? Who can teleport people to different worlds. That’s cool, I guess.” He frowned. “This was all a lot easier to deal with when I thought I was lying on the forest floor with a severe concussion.”

Daring gave a small snort at that, but stopped talking as she noticed that they had arrived in the clearing with the destroyed plane in it. She frowned for some reason.

“They’re in the machine.” Daring said, before turning away from him and staring out into the woods.

Erik strode forwards, frowning to himself. It wasn’t exactly the ideal place for a base camp. There was no water nearby, and the plane was kind of cramped. Not to mention the fact that the huge gashes in its body wouldn’t help keep the rain off any.

It was then that he caught sight of someone inside the plane. He rushed forward, grinning. “Marge! I was so worr—”

He froze mid-stride, dropping the Stick of Salvation and nearly falling over. He swallowed heavily. “No…” he whispered to himself, staggering forwards, towards the horrible sight before him. “No! No, no, no no no!”

He collapsed to his knees before the passenger side of the plane, whose door had been ripped off. Inside, sitting on the seat, neck bent at an awkward angle, was Marge. The pilot was in a similar position, to her side.

Erik moved closer, tapping her on the shoulder as tears welled up in his eyes. “Marge? Margey? C’mon. Look at me, Marge.” He prodded her again. Her head rolled over to the side, looking down at him.

He saw her eyes. Her dead eyes. Staring at him, piercing him, and yet there was nothing there. No life. No spark. No Marge. He squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to escape that gaze. Tears began to run uncontrollably down his face, and he let out one long, ragged cry of anguish.

He was alone.

--

Daring kept her back turned from the scene and let the creature, Erik, mourn. She didn’t know his relation to the two other creatures in the plane, but it seemed as if he cared about them quite a bit.

She tried her best to suppress it, but the rage rose within her once more. Ahuizotl had done this. She was sure of it. He was the cause of those cries of ultimate suffering. She gritted her teeth in an attempt to keep her composure.

Her ears swiveled as she heard something further out in the woods. Laughter. Very familiar laughter. Her ears pulled back against her skull as she gave into the rage. “Ahuizotl.” She hissed.

She wasted no time as she began sprinting through the woods towards the source of the sound. It didn’t take her long to get there. Ahuizotl stood, surrounded by his cats, and appeared to be accepting a large sack of bits from somepony she didn’t get a good look at, as she was too busy yelling at Ahuizotl as she barreled towards him.

“How dare you!” She yelled as she slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. “How dare you bring them here just to kill them!”

Ahuizotl recovered quickly, flinging her off of him and into a nearby tree. Daring spun in the air, striking the tree with all four hooves before bouncing back off of it and leaping back towards Ahuizotl.

Ahuizotl laughed evilly. “Bring who, Daring Do?” He swatted her with his tail, knocking her off course.

She twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding one of Ahuizotl’s cats, which leaped at her. She circled back around towards her eternal enemy. “The machine with the creatures in it!”

Ahuizotl raised his eyebrows in surprise, barely ducking in time as she sped past him. “So that amulet actually did something? A shame that I sold it just now. Oh well, it was worth it, if only because you have presented yourself to me, Daring Do.” He sidestepped her as she dove at him again. “I will quite enjoy destroying you once and for all.”

Daring didn’t bother to respond. Her assumptions had all but been proven. Ahuizotl was the one behind the death of Erik’s friends. She might not know Erik, but that didn’t matter to her in the slightest. Ponies—or whatever they were called—were dead now, and it was Ahuizotl’s fault. That was more than enough reason for Daring to confront him.

Ahuizotl swung his tail at her, but she managed to dodge out of the way… and right into the claws of a leaping tiger. She let out a small cry as it sank its claws into her side before slamming her into the ground, knocking the wind out of her lungs.

She reflexively lashed out with a hoof, catching the tiger by the snout, making it loosen its grip on her. She rolled out of its grasp, gasping both for breath and in pain as its claws tore several long gashes across her back. She sprang to her hooves, whipping her wings out and preparing to once more take to the air, when she was suddenly seized by the throat.

Ahuizotl chuckled darkly, his tail hand squeezing. “Once more, your emotions are your downfall, Daring Do.” He said, holding her high and tightening his grip.

--

Erik stopped sobbing when he heard the pegasus—Daring’s—voice. She was yelling something, but he only caught one word. “Ahuizotl.”

He whipped around, a fury building within him. Ahuizotl. Daring said that he was the one that brought him here. He was the reason that Marge and the pilot were dead. This never would have happened if it weren’t for him.

And Daring had been kind enough to find the monster for him.

He stumbled to his feet and began sprinting towards the struggle, not bothering to slow down for anything. Bushes and thorns snagged at his legs, ripping fresh holes in his pants and giving him countless nicks and scratches, but he paid them no heed.

He made it into the clearing, and spotted what he assumed to be Ahuizotl—a blue gorilla-cat… thing, which was currently gripping Daring’s throat with a hand that was, oddly enough, attached to the end of its long prehensile tail. Erik bent over to pick up a rock he had spotted on the ground, still sprinting forwards, then literally leapt over a very surprised panther, before slamming into the monster, Ahuizotl, at full speed.

It let out a small cry of surprise, releasing Daring from its grasp as Erik drove it to the ground and began slamming the rock repeatedly into its face. It was so stunned and in pain that it couldn’t react as he yelled at it, a rambling torrent of words spilling from his mouth as he hit it again and again.

“First,” he said, “you teleport my rental plane here, then, you make it fall from the sky, then I fall out while it’s still a hundred feet up! Then the plane crash lands, killing the pilot and my best friend! Her name was Marge Featherstone! And you KILLED her!”

“And for that,” he said I. Will. End.You!” He punctuated each word with a blow from his mighty stone.

Ahuizotl let out a small whimper as Erik halted his onslaught for a moment, panting heavily. He brought his arm down once more.

Fortunately for Ahuizotl, the panther that Erik had leapt over just a moment ago came to its senses at that very moment, and tackled the seething Erik to the ground, sending his mighty stone tumbling from his grasp.

Daring, who had been regaining her senses, rushed over as quickly as she could to where Erik lay, shouting his name—a name she barely knew, a name she shouldn’t care about.

The panther lunged towards his throat, and for a moment, time seemed to come to a complete standstill.

It was in this moment, the panther looming above him, the magical pegasus yelling his name, the dazed and beaten monster that had taken his best friend away from him lying inert on the ground, that he paused.

I could all end here. He could just sit here and let the panther tear his throat out. That would be easy. To just let it end.

A lot of people told him that he had an odd take on pain and death. He really didn’t think much about either, so long as they were happening to him. He obviously didn’t want either of them to occur, but they had never seemed that bad to him. They were easy.

It was easy to die. It was easy to be in pain—unpleasant, but easy. It was also easy to just plod through life. To just live. You didn’t have to do anything. They just happened to you. You either endured it, or you gave up and let yourself die.

It was acting that was hard. Getting up and moving forwards and making something of yourself, brushing the pain off and moving on, spitting in death’s face and deciding to live another day. That was hard.

Maybe if he died he’d be with Marge. He’d go to some afterlife and live out the rest of his days in peace and bliss. He’d be able to stare at the sky all day, bask in a perfect sun and laze around for the rest of eternity.

The thing about peace was, with it, there was invariably boredom. Peace was just another thing that happened to you. A nice thing, yes, but it was just one thing. And Erik never had been able to stomach doing a single thing for a lengthy period of time.

So he decided to spit in death’s face and tell it to deal with it. He raised his forearm in front of his throat.

Pain lanced through it, unbelievable pain, as the panther’s teeth sank into his flesh. But pain was easy. He punched the stupid thing in the face, causing it to release his arm just as Daring bucked it off of him. It yowled in both pain and surprise, flying a few feet before landing hard and rolling through the underbrush.

Daring then proceeded to unceremoniously yank Erik to his feet.

“Run!” She shouted at him.

Erik was happy to oblige.

They sprinted through the woods, Ahuizotl’s cats hot on their heels as they dodged and weaved through the thick jungle brush. Erik’s vision began to fuzz as he ran, undoubtedly due to the crimson liquid spurting out of his arm. As such, he could do little more than let Daring lead him through the jungle.

They seemed to run for an eternity before Daring grabbed Erik’s arm and yanked him under the concealing roots of a fallen tree. He watched blearily as Ahuizotl’s cats ran past, then sat there as they waited for another eternity.

When Daring finally decreed the coast to be clear, they sprinted as best they could back to her cabin. Daring got there far faster than Erik, but waited by the door for him. He stumbled inside drunkenly and collapsed on the wooden floor, blood pooling around him.

He vaguely heard Daring curse before he let the darkness take him.

Author's Note

Sorry that I didn't get this up sooner, but I found myself unexpectedly busy.

As always, please feel free to tell me what you think and point out any mistakes I made. I tried to focus more on dialogue this chapter, so I hope I did well.

Thanks for reading!