Journey of an Assassin

I have never really traveled by magical methods. I've gone by foot, mostly on horse, the occasional airship when the mood suits me and lastly by sea via boat. I don't envy wizards and mages with their way of travel. Portals, mirrors to pose as doorways, the circles with the runes inscribed and the magic dust to give it flair. That is their world that they choose to live, delve and continue to woo the easily impressed masses of the world. I like mine to be a tad more practical. I know what you are going to say. What about my kris swords and the magical incantations used to awaken their powers? I think magic is nice to use from time to time. Be it combat for offensive and defensive purposes or through healing when prayers to the gods and other deities are not enough. I dip my foot into those waters when the call for it is needed, not soak myself to the bone.

So it was a tad hard for me to adjust to the method of exiting one world and entering another. Light was all I could see. Bright with no sight of shape, form or scene unfolding. Then came the issue of spinning, turning, cartwheeling. There was no solid ground to stable oneself on, no gravity as they call it to keep me from flying away. Sounds was next to nothing, which made it eerily unsettling for me. No sound means trouble lurking under the shadows or behind a wall. Being unable to see because of the light mentioned, it only made me even more unnerved.

Just when it felt like I had stumbled into a trap, I barrel out of an archway and land face first on cold stone ground. I'm slow to arise as my senses once warped in every direction imaginable, start to re-arrange themselves in order. The temporary blindness caused by the light dims to reveal a courtyard that look oddly familiar. The archway looked the same as did the wall of the courtyard at the far end. The difference was the weather. Cold, misty and damp. I arise to check my surroundings, only to double over as my stomach launches an all out barrage of complaints. I'm thankful I skipped breakfast today, otherwise I would be sharing my meal with the plant life right now.

Once my stomach settled, I adjusted my mask over my nose and chin. Looking around revealed no sight or sound of my tour guide. I'm beginning to wonder if this was all some joke, that I never really left home to begin with. I take the path that lead me here, following the broken stone path until I reach the hole in the wall. That's when things start to look different. Aside from being cold, misty and damp, there is no sign of any drag marks from the bodies last night. Only damp earth. Another thing was the double doors. Instead of being rotted away, they remained as a whole and in place closed to the outside. The interior while still in ruins showed signs of an attempt to clean up and tidy the cathedral. A huge effort if I may add considering how massive it was compared to the one on my world. The doors draw my attention. Intricate designs are woven into the stone surface while at the center two sigils stand out clear: A sun emblazoned on one door, a crescent moon on the other. Curious, I take hold of the heavy door ring and with some effort pull. I am rewarded with a groaning creak and a small opening. I slip my way through the entrance and continue to explore.

The path trails from the fallen castle as I have now dubbed it to a rope bridge stretching over a gaping chasm. Peering over the edge reveals nothing but mists swirling below. A long and possibly painful drop if one was careless. Examination of the wooden bridge reveals it had been repaired recently. Scraps of rotting wood and rope fibers are strewn by the heavy oak stakes that act as its support. Strange. Why go through all the effort of cleaning up an abandoned castle and replace a rotting bridge if no one lives here? Another question. Do I just idle about and wait for my buzzing, hissing guide to return or throw caution to the wind and explore? A unsettling growl below my rib cage makes a decision for me. Option three: Find food.

A couple hours later and I can't help but wonder if I am now lost. Attempts to find out which way I am going is thwarted by the leafy canopy of the trees around me. The only space just happened to be back at the castle ruins. Here in this forest, I have no way of telling what time it is nor which direction I'm heading. Finding food is also proving to be just as fruitless. Shrubs, wild bushes, thick vines, fallen leaves blanketing the forest floor. All reveal next to nothing. I found some wild berries earlier, yet instinct warned me thus I avoided them. Another part of the forest to avoid were these vast patches of blue orchids that grew in abundance. The color was bright and vivid, but I'm no fool. Bright colors on such plants is a clear warning that they're poisonous. Not knowing how the poison may affect me, I opted to avoid these patches completely.

Just when hope seemed lost and thought of eating a boot started to come to mind (along with cursing myself for not bringing any rations or dry jerky!) a smell wafted in the air. The scent caught my nose and the stomach snarled with untamed hunger. Ducking under low branches, twisting around gnarled tree roots, the way started to become thicker before it began to opening up into a clearing. The sight before me was.. well it was impressive.

A hut as best as it can be described sat against a backdrop of trees. What made the hut unique was that it was a tree. Or, well using the tree roots that burrowed into the ground. Green moss decorated the few low branches while a warm glow of light flickered from one of the windows. A few clay pots and jars sat near the wooden door and the smell from earlier was stronger here. The source and perhaps a chance of food. As I carefully drew closer, I could hear the sound of a woman's voice chanting inside. A native? Local resident? Merchant perhaps? Crawling to ease just under the window, I dared a peek inside. What I saw left me in awe.

The inside of the hut revealed more clay jars and pots sitting in corners alone or grouped together near some shelves. Sitting on the shelves were glass jars, holding various herbs, plants and even some live critters. Charms, trinkets and make shift chimes hung from the ceiling. Some walls had various wooden masks hanging, the empty eye sockets dancing in the shadows. The scene reminded me of the wandering nomad tribes of the Southern Plains. But this was not left me in awe. It was what was at the center. A cauldron sat on a bonfire, its contents bubbling under the rising heat. The creature that stood in front of it chanting was what floored me the most.

It... or rather she? from the sound of the voice looked to be a striped equine. A pony. But it doesn't stop there. Hardly. Height wise, the striped pony stood perhaps three and a half feet at the shoulder. Its just a guess I can't give an exact height here. Brass rings adorn one foreleg, while the other drops in what looked to be dried plants. Hoop earrings danced against alert ears while the mane was short and cropped into a mohawk. More rings wove around the neck as she moved to one of the wooden counters propped against the walls and fetched a small jug. She returned and poured the contents into the cauldron which erupted with a poof of blue smoke. The reaction startled me and I stumbled back. In doing so, I knocked one of the clay pots outside and broke it. Silence fell inside the hut.

Shit, I goofed big time. Scrambling to find purchase on the ground, I bolted away from the hut leaping behind a tree just as I heard the door open, the sound of hooves scraping the wooden steps.

"Who is out there at this time of day? The forest is no place to play."

Her voice. It reminds me of the witch doctors or sorceresses of the nomad tribes back home. Treat them right and respectfully, their medicines and potion brews can cure the worst in a man. Piss them off, insult them or try to bring harm? May the gods have mercy on the poor wretch's soul. Course they never had rhyming in the speech.

What am I saying?!

Stripped equine pony, a woman... no a female pony... umm mare? Yes. Stripped equine mare, wearing jewelry, speaking Common in a rhyming fashion. I make a mental slap on the forehead. Helloooo new world here. We didn't ask where we were going or what exactly we were getting ourselves into. Only an invitation which we so boldly took.

"Who ever is out there, I warn you no tricks! I am not afraid to defend and beat you with a stick."

Normally I would laugh at the idea of a small equine awkwardly wielding a tree branch with nothing but her mouth. But seeing as I'm no longer on my world, what chance is there I won't be spotted then promptly beaten by a witch doctor who could swing a tree branch like a club as easily as I with my swords? I'm curious, but cautious and not a fool to boot.

I hear the sound of wings buzzing overhead which draws my focus to the leaves hanging overhead. Stunned in awe take two. What hovered over me and towards the small clearance where the stripped equine stood was... umm... strange. The creature landing looked like a cross between a beetle and well, an equine. Black as the gemstone onyx with the same sheen it possesses, the wings flapping resembled dragon fly wings. Eyes as blue as the sky overhead with no visible signs of a pupil or irises, narrowed as they fixated on the witch doctor while its four legs which were oddly holed along the length came to rest on the ground. The ears were thin and notched as they sat on each side of the head while a single horn resided on the forehead. If there was any hair or mane, the only part I could see was the tail cut short.

"Heh, heh, heh, what drawss the zebra from her hut I wonder?," the thing chittered its voice sounding much like the guide I was supposed to have here,"Out on your daily scavangingss for mushroomsss or mossss? Perhapss Poison Joke has affected your mind, playing tricksss on the eyes ssseeing as you never leave your home."

The zebra remained still while posing to make herself look taller,"Begone changeling you are not welcome here, your attempt to intimidate cause me no fear. Fly back to your queen leecher of love, before I squash your bug body and feed you to Fluttershy's doves."

Maybe it was her rhyming. Or maybe it was the reference to being called a bug. Whatever the reason the changeling erupted into a furious shriek of anger,"WE. ARE. NOT. BUGS!"

It snapped its head like a striking snake, a small glob of green goo was hurled in the zebra's direction. She rolled to the side as the goo landed, the sounds of a sizzling noise indicated this changeling spat acid. I peered around the tree in time to see it take flight once more the stripped equine backing up slowly in the direction of her hut. The changeling once airborne began to dive bomb her as she turned to run. Zig zagging and moving in a weaving pattern, the zebra mare dodged more incoming projectiles of acid spit each one leaving behind a charring hole in the ground. She almost made it, if it were not for a gnarled tree root exposed that caught her foreleg. Her run was broken as the equine tumbled and rolled before crashing against the side of her hut wall. The changeling cackled from above and dove for another strike as the zebra tittered and tried to regain her balance.

As much as I wanted to see these two duke it out, I felt time was being wasted here. Moving from my hiding spot, I took up my chain link and set it a whirling. Once enough momentum was built up, I cast it in the direction of the changeling. It wrapped itself around its midsection three to four times, the cold metal drawing its attention away from finishing off the zebra. I yanked hard and sent it crashing to the ground. Dazed and confused it didn't put much of a struggle as I dragged it across the forest floor to where I was. Turning, those blue eyes shot murder at me, until it realized who I was. In doing so however, I exposed myself fully to the witch doctor who was just as shocked as I was when I first saw her.

My cloak and hood covered much of my appearance, but that didn't help that the light cast my frame against the background of the forest. The changeling kicked off my chain and I slowly wound it up before depositing it within my hidden pocket. I could feel her stare almost like boring into my body. I'd say she was as surprised to see me as I did when I saw my guide post contractor for the first time.

"Strange creature what ever you are, get away from that changeling step away very far. To follow their kind is to follow strife, for their kin bring misery and suffering that torments ponies much of their life! Their queen is cold, calculating and cruel, if she casts a spell upon you you would be naught but a mindless fool."

I spoke allowing the zebra to hear me just this one time,"It is this very reason you are still alive. Consider yourself fortunate witch doctor, that time is of the essence for the both of us. We have an appointment to keep and I do not keep my clients waiting."

I turned and started to slip into the forest, away from the zebra and her home. The changeling rose to its feet, casting a glance to me leaving then to zebra standing there. Cursing to itself the changeling rose and buzzed away, chittering and hissing to itself as it flew to catch up. The two of us disappeared into the thick brush leaving the zebra alone once more.

Zecora felt her feet give way as she sat hard on her haunches. An idle hoof rose to touch her chest, the feeling of her heart rapidly beating ensured what she had felt just now. That creature that was with the changeling and those icy blue eyes that bore upon her. It was like Death was staring back cold and unkind as ever.

"Battling a changeling, I could stand my own in a fight. So why does my heart beat dreadfully of fright? This creature tall dark and unsettling, may be involved in possible changeling meddling. I must get to Twilight before the end of light and tell her of a potential terrible plight."