Heralds of Lunaby GaPJaxieChaptersIntroductions: Little SeedIntroductions: MelroseIntroductions: Amethyst ShardIntroductions: Ruby BlazeIntroductions: Drawn MasqueradeIntroductions: Thunder StruckIntroductions: Little Seed Little Seed Character Name: Little Seed Player Name: A Dragon Dreaming Race: Earth Pony Class: Commoner 5 Role: Unrealized Potential Little Seed opens his eyes. Normally, he's a prompt riser, but today he lingers in bed. Exactly why he does this he couldn’t say, but something about the day feels different. Like there's something he's supposed to be doing—something very important. Nothing comes to mind no matter how much he thinks about it, but the feeling is persistent enough to give him pause, and delay him awhile beneath the sheets. Lying there even feels restful, which is itself strange. Normally, Little Seed avoids bed as much as he can. It's awkward, being the center of the universe. Little Seed's bed doesn't hover, or float. It simply is the center of the cosmos, and around it spins all the earth and heavens. Three suns and five moons whirl about him like out of control billiard balls, smacking into each other and launching into new, erratic courses. Between them can be seen the multi-hued sky, a background of blue and red and green and pink, in which float the tiny dots Little Seed knows are mostly land. His mother found it all so breathtaking, but Little Seed just finds it unpleasant. He grew up with it, and tuning it all out is second nature now. Except today, for some reason. That nagging feeling. Eventually, it is time to get up. Little Seed swings a hoof out from over the edge of the bed, and when he puts it down, time and space seem to stretch out to the infinite horizon. Suddenly, there's a floor under his hooves. Dusty, dry, dirty wood, part of his little cabin house, on his little plot of dry land. That's good. It's not always his house he ends up inside. That gives him more time to see to his chores. He has to adjust the shades over his plants, and sweep the house, and fetch more water. He yawns, and shakes himself out, stepping hoof over hoof to the shuttered window. Hopefully the plants were still mostly there, and hadn't gotten up and hidden themselves while he slept. Little Seed gently nudges the shutter open. When Little Seed swings a hoof down off the edge of the bed, time and space seem to stretch out to the infinite horizon. Suddenly, there's a floor under his hooves. Dusty, dry, dirty wood, part of his little cabin house, on his little plot of dry land. He's so used to it by now that the thought of stepping out into empty space doesn't frighten him, like it did when he was a foal. The ground will appear. Or it won't. Either way, nudging the shutter open lets the light back in, along with a current of hot, dusty air. Out to the edge of his floating chunk of earth is his garden, and it seems that none of his plants have run off while he was sleeping. That's good. They've been doing that a lot less, since he made his sun-screens. His mother taught him that plants need periods of darkness as well as water to survive, but both things are hard to come by here. Now that the plans can have regular shade and water, they tend to stick around. That feeling of having forgotten something very important sticks with him, but there's not much time to ruminate on it. He needs to adjust the shades, sweep up, and fetch more water before the plants get feisty. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth—he could use the water too. But first, the shades. He turns for the door, and, yawning, steps outside. Outside, the three suns beat down as they always do, their erratic motions making little difference to the amount of light the world receives. In the center of the vast chaos now floats a tiny chunk of land—a flying island of dust and dirt, on which rests the home of a single pony, and his scrubby little garden. Little Seed finds the cloth and scrapwood shades he's made to protect his plants to be in good order, as are the rest of his tools. He fetches water every day from up the road, and adjusts his shades regularly, but still the garden is sickly. Probably because he doesn't know how long a 'day' is exactly. In his world, a day starts when he wakes up and ends when he sleeps, but he knows that didn't used to be the definition. The plants must still want an old-length day. Whatever that is. Adjusting the shades takes a little while. Sweeping out the house a little while longer. That strange feeling persists, but at least it doesn't get any worse. Eventually though, all the other chores are done. Now the plants need water. Time to head into town. He slips into his simple harness, two hefty, stoppered jugs slung to his sides, and heads up the road. The road is just two pegs on the edge of his island, marking the start of a dirt trail. His mother told him that once, that was the start of the actual road into town. It seems that the ground remembers that as well, because when Little Seed sets hoof on the path and steps off into space, a chunk of earth rushing out of eternity to appear under his hooves. It's only a few paces across, but the trail runs right down the middle, and as he follows it, more earth appears to create a winding path through the sky. Clouds filled with rainwater sometimes circle past him, adorned by sleeping grey pegasai—but they never rain. He's only ever heard stories about rain. The pegasai keep all the weather to themselves, and never share. Grey ponies are like that. He'll have to pass by a few grey ponies to get his water, and that's always unpleasant, but the ground-bound ones can at least be reasoned with. First up along the road is the old Turnip farm. There's no water here either, but old lady Turnip Stew never misses a chance to pelt him with her rock-hard produce whenever he passes, pretending that she's trying to feed him. He actually could use the food, so it's something he's put up with prior to now, the farm rising up out of the depths along his little stone trail. No mocking greeting or barrage of turnips greets him this time though. Instead, when the floating island that holds most of her front yard and her white-picket fence rises into view, Turnip Stew is leaning on the fence with a confused look about her. Her coat, normally grey, is now a soft pinkish white, and her mane is a light green. "Oh... hello there, Little Seed," she calls to him. Waving a hoof at him uncertainly. Little Seed blinks, then blinks, then blinks again. She was not grey. The last time he had met a pony who was not grey...when had that been? His mother. But he hasn't seen her in a long time. She just wasn't there one day. He swiftly gave up trying to reckon that. Impossible when there was no firm "day," in any case. "Ma'am," he says, dipping his head. "You're looking colorful!" "Am I?" she asks, pausing to examine herself. "It's the oddest thing. Do you ever wake up and feel like things are different, but you can't say why?" "I...well, yes,” he says. “Just now, actually. I think it's the first time." "Me as well," she says, reaching up to tilt her old straw hat back on her head. "I had the strangest dreams. There was this blue mare. Or maybe she was black. And she needed me to do something very important. And when I woke up, gosh-darn it if everything didn't seem all strange. These are my proper colors, but I do feel like I'm all colorful all of a sudden." She frowns, her expression confused. Ah...hm. Little Seed takes a moment to look at himself. He's the same colors he's always been. Right? Tan coat, brown mane and tail. A seedling bursting from a rock on his flanks. His head does feel particularly fuzzy today though. And he does recall... something about a mare. Something very urgent. But it's just outside his grasp. "That is very strange," he muses. "I seem to recall...something about a mare, but beyond that ..." "Yeah," Turnip Stew agrees. "One of those days." A frown crosses her features again, and she shakes her head. "Well, mind if I join you if'n yer headed to the well? It's the strangest thing, but my garden's dry as a bone this morning." She slides her own pair of water jugs over her back, made from an old set of saddlebags and two buckets. "Not at all, ma'am," he says with a smile. "A little company will be a pleasant change of pace." She trots out her front gate to the road, and the two of them end up side by side walking into town. The next stop along the way is Snare Trap. He was the game warden back when there was a forest to... ward? But now he just sets traps on the road for random ponies. Little Seed isn't sure how he even feeds himself, but it never seems to be an issue. Just another unpleasant encounter he has to face every day. Today though, there are no traps, and just like Turnip Stew, Little Seed finds him sitting on his porch, many disassembled traps in front of him. "Careful there!" he calls, a brown earth pony with a lighter green mane. "There's a snare in that bush by the road." "Thanks fer the warning," Turnip Stew answers. "How've you been, Snare?" "Odd," he answers, looking between the two. "Is anything off today with you two?" "Do you happen to be feeling particularly colorful today?" Little Seed asks. "Now that you mention it, I do," Snare says, looking back at his cutie mark. A snare and a flowering tree. He soon looks back at the others, squinting at them through the heat and the dust. "It's been a strange couple of..." He pauses. "It's been a strange while. Can't quite account for what I've been up too lately. It's all a haze," he continues, frowning. "And there was this mare. I think she was a pegasus. There was something she needed me to do." "That sounds like the dream you had, Turnip,” says Little Seed. "It does," Turnip Stew says, thoughtfully. "I thought she was an earth pony though." “No, she was definitely a pegasus,” Snare Trap affirms. Little Seed vaguely recalls something about a horn. And sparkles in her mane? Like glitter? “Well, now that's odd,” he says, “because now that I think about it, I think she had a horn." "You had the same dream?" Snare Trap asks. "Well, that isn't exactly normal now is it? Anypony else have the same dream?" "Couldn't say for certain,” Little Seed replies. “You're the first two I've met since I woke up this...er...earlier." "Funny that." Snare Trap takes a breath, and then shakes himself off. "Well, you two mind if I follow you? Not like I've got much else to do." "More the merrier," Turnip Stew answers. Little Seed nods his head in assent. "Took the words from my own mouth, Turnip." That earns a smile. Not an expression he's seen on her face before. The next several stops into town go the same way. A formerly grey pony has their colors, and is in some state of confusion, recalling only that they have to do something very important, and that it somehow relates to a mare. Who was blue! Or maybe black. And a pegasus. Or a unicorn. Or an earth pony. And she was definitely very tall. Or short. Or a giant. With sparkles in her mane. Unless that was her jewelry. Not every grey pony Little Seed knew is changed—Tell Apple is still grey, and still shouts at them to get off her apple farm, shooting arrows at their ankles to hurry them along. But, with every encounter, his little herd grows, and when they finally reach the well in the center of town, he sees there's a large mob of colorful ponies gathered there. All babbling to each other at once. "The town certainly is lively, for once," Little Seed asides to Turnip. "A bit chaotic." "A... bit," she agrees, looking over to Little Seed as their group starts to spread out into the crowd. "Come on, I want to hear what ponies are saying,” she says, dragging him to the middle. The main subject of discussion around the well is the dream everypony had, trying to hash out the details. The mare was blue -and- black. Her mane was blue with sparkles, and something else. She was a pegasus and a unicorn. She was giant, but seemed to be able to look you in the eye. As Little Seed hears more, more starts to come back to him. Vague memories of... light. And a forest. A great, dark forest. Where he needed to do... something. And that mare! She needed help. With something very important. Little Seed frowns, furrowing his brow, which has the side effect of a scrunchy muzzle. As more and more comes back to him, Turnip Stew, and everypony else in the crowd, the pace of conversation quickly increases. Until, through the din, a clear voice shouts: "Hold it!" Silence spreads through the crowd, with ponies’ attention gradually coming to rest on the speaker. Book Mark, the town recordkeeper, and the closest thing they have to a librarian. Little Seed doesn't know her well. When she was grey, she'd take every chance she had to categorize just how much of a failure he was as a farmer, and since he didn't have to see her, he avoided her. She's holding a well worn book with one leg, standing next to the well and signaling for other attention. "Was this," she asks, opening the book and presenting it to the crowd at random, her motions bringing it near Little Seed. "The mare you saw?" On the page she opens is a long-faded illustration, showing a pony with the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus, her mane a starry, ethereal, mist. She wears a crown, and hooves, and armor across the chest, decorated with a crescent moon. He narrows his eyes, looking closer...and in a flash, he sees her - horn and wings, statuesque stature, her mane a flowing, sparkling mist, saying...something. Pleading, almost. "That's her!" A few other voices quickly join in with Little Seed, nodding or adding affirmative sounds. Book Mark nods and lays the book out by the well, leaving it where everypony can see it. "That's a book of Myths and Legends my aunt gave me. I didn't think any of the creatures in it were real, so it took me a bit to place it, but then I remembered. It says her name is Luna." At once, that name clicks in Little Seed's head, and snippets of conversation float to mind. Something about a forest. And a castle? And a battle! "She's the shapeshifting Princess of the Moon who sometimes travels to Equestria to do battle with evil creatures or overthrow wicked tyrants." Little Seed 's brow furrows again. "Which moon?" "I don't know," Book Mark admits. "It doesn't say." "There used to just be the one!" Turnip Stew pipes up, a few other old-timers nodding along with her. "Back in the old days, before the world went all funny." "It seems forever ago now." Just one moon? Little Seed looks up at the sky. Above him, one of the suns hits a wandering moon, sending them both careening through the sky with a spray of sparks and lightning. Two suns and three moons remain in sight, now. "That sounds like the mare I saw," Snare Trap admits. "She seemed like a serious sort. Very regal. And I do remember something about a tyrant. And a battle." "She wasn't fighting the tyrant though," Turnip Stew continues. "Just something about him. And there was a battle. In a... forest?" "Also a castle,” Little Seed adds. "...I think she wanted help." Gradually, a few more ponies nod along with Little Seed. "Yeah. She did," somepony else adds. "Like it wasn't going all that well." "I don't remember the castle," Snare Trap shakes his head. "But now that I think about it, there's only one big forest around here. That'd be the Everfree. Back when I was a game warden, anyway." That name triggers a memory for at least a few ponies. Comprehension dawning on their faces. “Right! Her castle in the Everfree Forest.” "No castles in the Everfree," Snare Trap insists, but he's clearly outvoted as more and more ponies start to recall. "There also used to be only one moon," Little Seed points out. "And everypony was grey." Book Mark nods, taking her book back under a leg. "That does sound a lot like the stories about her in the book. They say that in the days before Equestria, she'd descend from the moon on a beam of light with her army of shapeshifters to do battle with evil. A lot of those myths focus around pony heroes she asks for help. So I guess she's asking us." That sends a ripple through the crowd. Ponies set to babbling all over again. "So you're going then?" somepony asks Book Mark, only for her to quickly backtrack. "I didn't say that! Ponies don't always survive those old stories," she insists. "Besides, have you been outside the town lately? It's not safe. Sometimes the land doesn't appear, and if you fall off the edge, who knows where you'll land?" Little Seed slips his jugs off, and starts working the well. "Not that the town was all that safe,” he points out. “Well, until recently." "Yeah!" Turnip Stew agrees, with a sudden burst of energy. She needs a moment to catch her breath after that, like she was as surprised as everypony else. "Can't be worse out there than it is in here. Besides! Seems to me this Luna mare set the town straight, least we can do in return is help her. "And she's a pegasus," she adds. "Would be real nice if somepony could bring the rain back." "She's royalty, Stew. I don't think she pushes clouds around," somepony replies, dry. "Like you've ever met royalty," Turnip Stew insists. "Well, something ungreyed us all,” Little Seed says. “And if we got ungreyed, why not the pegasai?" "Yeah." Turnip Stew agrees. "We can't just sit here and pretend nothin' happened." "Stew, you're..." Snare Trap starts, pausing to speak delicately, "not exactly in your prime." "Good enough to whup your butt if you say that again," she replies, tartly. "Besides! I won't be alone, will I? Little Seed has, by now, filled one jug, and starts working on the other. "Of course not,” he says. “I'll be going, one way or the other." "Me too!" a second pony chimes in. "And me!" adds a third. "I'll do anything to get the rain back!" There are a few doubters, but they're soon in the minority as the bold sentiment sweeps through the herd. Ponies eager to meet this mysterious mare who saved them, and come to her aid. None of them are exactly warriors, and they don't exactly know what constitutes a "great battle," but there are stories of earth pony heroes fighting with their farming tools, and the town has plenty of those. Some of them are even sharp! Little Seed has his own eye on a little hoof-scythe (perfectly wieldable in the mouth, as well), but he's a farmer, right, and somebody needs to see to provisions. Along with a few other like-minded ponies and Snare Trap's hopefully-still-accurate memory of how long the trek might take, Little Seed gets a sort of caravan cobbled together. Enough food and packed water to get them along the way. There'd be no guarantees of grazing land, even with things changing. Not that anyone particularly wanted to graze, either. There are still carts and wagons to be had, and they're quickly loaded with the rest of Little Seed's produce along with his water jugs. Many others likewise contribute, and soon there's a little caravan waiting, with three wagons and a dozen ponies to its name. Snare Trap remains skeptical, but comes along as a guide, while the others are all gung-ho, hitching themselves up to the wagons or practicing with their farming tools turned spears and polearms. The expedition sets out soon, with those who remained behind wishing them well and hoping for their swift return. The road out of town is marked just the way the road from Little Seed's house was, and the ground springs up the same way. Little Seed has never been down that trail before. At first, the air is jovial. With Snare Trap guiding the way, they walk and chat and speculate, until everypony is starting to get hungry and exhausted, and the caravan declares that a day has passed and it's time to eat and rest. There are minor encounters, such as a little group of grey unicorns shooting sparks, and even a wolf who has to be poked away with the group’s collection of tools. All of them are dealt with fine though, and overall, they do a great deal to persuade the ponies involved that the outside is not as dangerous as they thought. It's not until the second day that things start to go wrong. It's then that the pony pulling the lead cart—a mare by the name of Sun Shine—sets her foot out into empty space. There's the usual blur of motion, and the ground appears. But it appears a good thirty feet below the rest of the trail. Sun rears and tries to back up, but it's too late. Her forehooves go over the edge, and the weight of the cart comes with her. Twisting as the falls, she passes out of sight, and a loud crash of splintering wood is audible below. Little Seed rushes forward, to try and pull her back. But too late. He peers over the edge of the ground. Looking down below, he can see that the cart didn't land on her—thank the earth. Her twisting ensured that it landed beside her, and both are now sprawled out on the next section of earth, a jagged and rocky island. The cart is splinters, but Sun seems to be intact. "You okay there!?" Turnip Stew calls. Sun lifts her head, but when she puts a leg on the ground to push herself up, cries out in pain and falls back down. "...no!" she answers after a moment, strain audible in her tone. "I think my leg is broken." "Right.” Little Seed says. “Rope!" There's a pause. Coughing. A few ponies quickly looking through the provisions. "I have my snare cords," Snare Trap finally offers. "Those should hold a pony alright." "Right...but do you have enough to reach down there?" Little Seed asks. "Uh... if we knot them all together?" Snare suggests, nosing through his saddlebags. "That should reach." "Good enough.” Seed replies. “You'll have to lower me down." The group seems reassured by Little Seed taking charge, and soon all the cords are knotted together. There isn't enough to put together a proper harness, but it can loop around his barrel, and with six sets of earth-pony teeth clamping down on the other cords, there's strength aplenty to lower him down. The cord cuts into his midsection, and his balance is unsteady, but the group lowers him down at a smooth rate, and he soon touches down next to Sun Shine. "Hey," she calls up to him. A sunflower-yellow mare with even paler hair. She's still hooked up the wagon and hasn't moved, though there's no blood or anything. That's good. "Hey. Anything else hurt?" he says, as he touches down and moves to unhook her from the wagon. "Uh, well. I'm a little bruised up," she says, though her voice sounds weak. The restraints on her come off easily enough, and when he lifts her, she lets out only a faint squeak of pain, insisting that she's fine. "I'm good. Let's get out of here." When he gets back in the harness though, and the cord goes taut, it quickly becomes clear that they have a problem. There's no way for Little Seed to stay balanced on a single loop of cord while carrying another pony. And not enough spare cord to create a proper harness. After a few attempts where he sways dangerously within the first few feet of his ascent, they rapidly lower him back down. "Getting kind of dizzy here!" Sun Shine says, trying to keep her tone up as she rests over Little Seed's back. "Well, that didn't work," Snare Trap calls from above. "I guess we'll have to... haul her up first, maybe?" "Probably best,” Seed says. “I don't have the tools to rig something out of the bags down here." "Sure let's do it," Sun Shine agrees, But when Little Seed lowers her to the ground so he can get the harness on her, she's clearly having trouble keeping her balance even on her three good legs. Her expression dazed and unsteady. "C'mon. Let's do this," she urges again. Little Seed secures her as best he can, then waves up to Snare and the rest. The rest of the team starts to pull, and Sun Shine rises—but as she does, she starts to sway. Her sense of balance is evidently off, and she has only one foreleg with which to support herself. Suddenly, halfway up, she slips backwards in the loop, her rear sliding out from the cord. "Help!" she shouts, trying to hook her legs around the rope Little Seed has been watching. But, from where he is, there's not much he can do but move to catch her if she falls. Soon, she slides the rest of the way back, slipping out of the loop completely. Little Seed jumps, but her fall isn't taking her to him. It's taking her off the edge of the island. And this time, no ground appears under her. Her shout carries up to him, but soon grows fainter and fainter, as she fades into the infinite distance. Little Seed stares after her. Above Little Seed, the rest of the little expedition rushes to the edge of their own island, peering out for any sign of her. But nothing appears. "She landed... somewhere. Right?" Turnip Stew asks. "I don't know,” Little Seed replies. Things only get worse from there. Snare Trap's memory of this place is from when you could see landmarks in the distance. Now he can only navigate by a few dozen paces around the road, and he admits that some of the road sections are jumbled up, or in the wrong order. First comes the admission that they're lost. Then the realization that turning around doesn't take them to the same places they were before. Then worse things than stray greycoats and wolves. Plants that carry supplies off and under the islands. Patches of earth with reversed gravity. Sudden cliffs. Storms of chocolate. Bunnies that swarm over a pony and chew on hair. Dead ends, where no islands rise up around them, forcing them to backtrack under the hot suns. Finally, after four periods of rest—four days—the water is gone and the food is running low. Ponies strained as the caravan comes to a halt. "We're near the forest. I know we are," Snare Trap insists. "The terrain is right for it, I just can't get us there." “Maybe we should split up,” one pony suggests. “See who can find it first.” "That's a terrible plan," Turnip Stew scoffs. "We should see if we can wave down a pegasus. Grey or not, maybe they can help." Little Seed has been watching the sky. He has seen a few pegasai up there. Lazing around on their clouds. Weaving among the cotton candy storms. None are close at hoof right now, but there are a few in the distance he could try calling to. He cocks his head, thinking back. Was there a proper way to address a pegasus? Ah well. Best to make it up. "AHOY THE CLOUDS! CAN YOU HEAR ME UP THERE?"! That appears to be wrong. Or maybe they don't hear him. The others follow Little Seed's cue though, shouting up into the clouds: "Hey there!" one calls. Nothing. "Hello!" shouts another. Nothing. "Hey featherbrain!" tries a third. Definitely not. Finally, one draws a deep breath. "Hey! We need help down here! Help!" That last word seems to echo. "Help, help, help." And before them, there's a magnificent thundercrash. Ponies leaping back in surprise as three mares appear out of the thin air. "Don't worry, little ponies, there's no need to fear," the first one says. A pink pegasus mare with a blue mane. She flaps up to the group, reaching out to hold a startled ponies cheek. She's doing something funny with her voice. It sounds... nice. "You may be in danger, but help is here! When ponies on the ground, stand lost and afraid, In a flash comes the Pegasus Rescue Brigade!" Little Seed blinks. This is...extremely new. The other two—off-purple, one with a yellow mane and one with a bright blue one—slide up to the group and start handing out water from their saddlepouches, tending to a few of the ponies who have received bumps and scrapes. "Gonna stand there with your mouth hanging open all day?" the pink one asks him, grinning as she hovers in front of him. "I hadn't planned on it,” he replies. His eyes move to her wings. "Do you know what happens to ponies who fall off?" "Oh, they all land somewhere," she answers, with a shrug. "Why, did you lose somepony?" He grimaces. "Yes." "Don't worry," the pink one assures. "In our sky, the further you fall, the softer you land. Makes no sense, but it's true! She touched down light as a feather. I can even show you the way to her." "Wait,” he says, “how do you know who she is?" "Why, because she cried out for help as she fell, of course," the pink one says, with a smile. "You see... "To bring order to Equestria and tend to her new peace," she does that thing again, the one that makes her voice sound sweet. "Our Hurricane knew that ponies fear of the sky must cease, And so she called forth her lightning and imbued our merry band, And now we answer ponies cries for help across the land! It's our secret bit of magic, the spell that's of our breed, To dash across the sky like lightning, when ponies are in need, No matter how lost you are or how far you may roam, Just cry out to the bright blue sky and we will guide you home!" It ends on a bit celebratory tone, the pink one grinning as her friends do the work of tending to those who have been knocked around. "Get it?" she asks Little Seed. "I think so,” he replies. "Do you know how to get to Luna?" "As it happens, I do," the pink one says, rolling over so she's looking at Little Seed upside down, evidently having no problem hovering in the air that way. "Your little yellow friend made the same request, and I was happy to oblige." "Well, good then!” he says. “Because that's where we were all headed, but with all this ..." and he waves at the surrounding lack of land or landmarks, "we haven't been able to find our way to the Everfree." "I can see how that would be tricky. But don't worry. We'll have you where you belong very soon," the pink one assures. The other members of Little Seed's party are starting to look up, a few of them chatting with the pair of mares helping them. "Would you all like to go now? I'm sure you're eager to be on your way." "Is it really that easy?" Turnip Stew asks. "You just zap us all there?" "Oh! No," the pink one laughs and waves her off. "That magic only works for us, to rush us to poor ponies in need of assistance. But, we do have another bit of magic that will speed you on your way. Just like our Pegasus Rescue song brings us to you, we've got another little chant that puts poor lost earth ponies where they belong. Sing along with us, and you'll be with your friend in a jiffy. "Ready?" the pink one asks. Sing. It had been a long, long time since Little Seed had sung anything. He gets to his feet, and nods. He'd forgotten the word. That's what they were all doing earlier. "Great! Now sing a-long with our chant," she begins, slow so that the group can join in, their voices gradually catching up. "And we will begin. "The magic that carries ponies off to where they find their kin," she continues, as the group joins in properly. "Wings whisk up to the sky, and horns to halls of stone, But this is the Earth Pony chant, so where do hooves make their home?" There's a pause. "Dirt." The two mares lift out of the crowd. One of them makes a disgusted expression, wiping at her face where one of Little Seed's band touched her. The soft purple color in her coat wipes away like grime, revealing grey beneath. "Dirt is where hooves make their home, and it's of dirt that they're made, Dirt and pain's your birthright, and dirt's your only trade, Dirt is what we'll help you too, and dirt's what we're here to save," Little Seed frowns. The ponies in the group are slowly dropping out of the song, as their expressions turn confused. Then the final note comes. "So it's time for you to join your friend when we help you to your grave!" Then a rock hits Turnip Stew where she stands. Right. So this was like when the rocks had their little revolt. Little Seed has a simple solution to this. He wheels, and bucks, aiming both hooves at the pink one's face. His sudden attack catches the pink one by surprise. She was evidently expecting the group to panic, and he hits her clear in the face and shoulders, sending her flying backwards from the little island. The other two back off as well, and the herd—which probably was about to panic—takes sudden vigor from Little Seed's strike. Shouting and booing the mares away as they recover their tools. But despite the moral victory, it doesn't look like Little Seed actually did very much damage. And when the mare recovers, she and her two friend's expressions are fixed right on Little Seed. "I've got a rock!" chimes one of the two tag-alongs. "I've got another rock," chimes the other. "I've got a special rock," chimes the pink one, pulling a little round object out of her bag. With a fuse. "Throw at will, girls! These poor ponies aren't going to help themselves." The last rock that sparked like that left a hole in the ground. There's not much time to think. Just to act. Little Seed charges, leaping straight for the pony with the special rock, legs wide to grab and hold. The mare just has the fuse lit when he leaps. She shrieks with surprise, and the grenade tumbles out of her grasp, falling away into the infinite sky. He hits her head on, and all four legs wrap around her. Tongues of fire and bits of shrapnel tear at his coat as the grenade explodes somewhere below them, and suddenly he's in a mid-air grapple for his life, with the pink pegasus whirling and diving and headbutting him to try and dislodge him. "Get off get off get off!" "I'd rather not fall, thank you!" he shouts. Her response is to snarl and bite his shoulder, the two of them reduced to headbutting to fight as they careen unsteadily across the sky. Dives, spins, and loops threaten to throw him from her grasp, but he manages to stay on! Until her two friends catch up anyway, and then the grapple turns against Little Seed. Her pink makeup is smudged all over him now, revealing the grey beneath as her two friends rip him off her. She looks left and right, but the island where Little Seed's party once stood is empty. Seems they ran off while the mares were distracted. "You don't wanna fall!?" she snarls at him. "Well that's too bad. You're going to fall, little dirt pony! And you're gonna land right where your friend did. Buh-bye now!" Little Seed kicks, and struggles, but then two mares overpower him and let him go. And he tumbles through the sky. True to the mare’s word, though he falls for what seems forever, he lands as gentle as a feather, touching down in a grove of strange plants, on top of damp soil, looking up at a canopy of trees. He checks himself over, but yes, everything seems to be in place. "Well. At least she didn't lie about that," he mutters, and looks around him. Plants he hasn't seen before, trees overhead. Big trees. Very big trees. Healthy trees. This must be what they call a forest. And if this was a forest, then maybe it was actually...where he needed to be. The air is full of odd smells. Wet soil. Animals. Something... leafy he can't quite place. And it's dark! There's light. Light enough to see by. But it's actually dark. And the light had an odd character too. Silvery. Paler than he remembers. He shakes himself off, and...shivers. Huh. It was actually a little cold. Chillier than the cellar, even on the days when the suns weren't quite so bright. It felt...kind of good actually. But! Distractions! He is in a forest. It is...probably the Everfree, because if it isn't it meant he is completely hopelessly lost and he doesn't much care for that. And if it is the Everfree, then Luna's castle is here somewhere. Not that he knows where. A moment more, and he shrugs, rises, and steps out, heading off to explore. It's not hard to pick a direction. He's on a slope, making his options up or down, and when he goes up, the trees seem to thin out, giving him a better view.At the top of the ridge, he can see something in the distance, and a little more quick scrambling for higher ground clears his sight the rest of the way. Above him, the sky is dark. No suns or strange clouds marr it—just a collection of odd, sparkling white dots, surrounding a single bright moon whose silvery light illuminates the landscape. In the distance, he can see a building larger than any he's ever seen before. A towering edifice of imposing stone and shadowed walkways, its towers grim and dark, built to withstand any assault. Strange stone monsters are perched atop its battlements, giving it all an intimidating air. It is undoubtedly what he seeks. But a moment later, the sees why the three cruel mares abandoned him here. Surrounding the castle is a vast horde of creatures, the likes of which he has never seen before. Dogs that walk on two legs. Wolves made of timber and branches. Things that are like ponies, but too tall, and too long in the face, and impossibly slender. Great hulking shaggy beasts, next to catapults and rams on wheels. Reaching the tower on hoof seems impossible, with hundreds in his way. And down in the camp, near a patch of firelight, he can see Sun Shine. Tied up and afraid, left alone by the fire. The only ponies he sees in the camp are grey—and their behavior is as monstrous as the rest. Castle on the other side of an army, with a mare to rescue on the way. He looks down at his hooves. He'd lost the little scythe somewhere along the way. This won't cut it. He could fight rocks and wrangle unruly plants, but this is...different. It will require a different approach! Fortunately, there is mud in abundance, and he wastes no time in rolling in it. Soon he's covered in mud head to hoof. The damp soil of the forest seeping into his coat. For a little something extra, he sticks his head in a bush and shakes it around. And thus, looking very strange indeed, he makes his way for the army of creatures. A mud-creature with leaves for ears and twigs for a jaw is hardly the strangest thing in this camp. And when he trots in like he owns the place, without the slightest fear of the guards or sentries. They pay him no mind. Sun Shine is neglected it seems. They evidently think she's in no danger of escaping—and given that one of her legs is turning an odd color, and she's bound head to hoof in rope, the guards’ presumption seems to be correct. In the darkness, she doesn't recognize Little Seed any more than the guards do, cringing away from this leaf-monster that nears her fire. He's walking a little oddly. It's partly the mud, which is not exactly comfortable, but also, he's not supposed to be a pony right now. As Sun Shine cringes away from him, he forces out a chuckle. "No love for your Seedy friend?" he says, keeping his voice low. She freezes. Gradually, her ears perk up. She looks left. Then right. "Little Seed?" she whispers, so quiet even he can barely hear her. He winks. "Shhhhh." She looks like she might break down for sheer joy on the spot, starting to tear up as she sees him. "Oh, Little Seed. Thank goodness, I—" then she catches herself, and falls silent at once. Making herself squeeze away the tears. "I thought I was alone," she finally whispers. “Well, you aren't,” he murmurs. “But talk later, yeah? Also, sorry in advance, this is probably going to hurt," he says, as he grabs the ropes that bind her, and starts to drag her forward. "Nnngh!" she squeaks, but manages not to cry out. "Oh, no. Yeah. That's just a little tickle," she manages, her eyes and jaw clamped shut. Ponies rescuing damsels rarely haul them around like a sack of flour. But ponies rescuing damsels aren't usually pretending to be monsters, either. And much as Sun Shine isn't enjoying it at the moment, Little Seed's disregard for the pain she's in probably does a good bit to help him blend in in this camp. Walking towards the opposite end of the camp, Little Seed is largely ignored. Most of the guards seem heavily distracted by something. The camp is a buzz with activity. Preparing to attack, he would guess, from how ammunition is being rolled up to the catapults and how every monster there is awake. A few guards do look his way, but they pay him little mind. Until he's at the extreme edge of the camp on the castle's side, and a rough voice calls out: "Hold it!" There he sees a strange, ugly little dog thing that walks on two legs. Shackles made from bits of crystals and gems bind it at the ankles and wrists ,though oddly, the shackles aren't actually connected to anything. "Where are you... eeehh," it inhales roughly. "Taking that, eh. Poh-nee?" Little Seed lets go the rope, and steps forward, showing teeth. "What, you like Poh-nees? Want to take the Poh-nee yourself?" "What? No!" The chattering little dog-creature steps back. He takes another step forward. "Want to brush the pre-tty poh-nee's mane, and brush the pre-tty poh-nee's tail? Pet the pre-tty poh-nee's coat? Scratch the pre-tty poh-nee's ears?" "No! Why would I want to do that? Poh-nees aren't adorable like that at all!" It insists, defensively. "They are ugly. And stupid! I don't want the stupid ugly pony. No matter how brushable it is. You can have it!" The guard, looking about nervously, beats a quick retreat. Little Seed turns, chuckling to himself, and resumes what he was doing. "Yay I'm adorable," Sun Shine manages, as Little Seed drags her through the wood. Out of the camp. And finally, up to the grand castle gates. By which time he's not dragging her, but carrying her on his back properly. Now that there's no more need for trickery. One, two, and then three loud knocks from his hoof echo off the huge wooden gates. Seeming booming and thunderous in the strange... night. And after a moment, the gates swing open of their own accord. Inside is a long, grand, quiet hall, where a tall pony waits. She has a blue coat, spotted with black, the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn. Her mane is like nothing Little Seed has ever seen before, save perhaps the sky above this castle. Blue, and sparkling, and silvery and... calm. Her horn glows, and the ropes around Sun Shine release themselves. Before she can fall, she too is lifted. Abruptly, she squeaks in fright, and something in her leg makes a loud snap—but when she looks down, the purple is rapidly fading. A moment later, she stands on all four hooves, unbroken and unharmed. "You two have come a very long way to see me," says the Princess of the Moon. "I have watched you and your journey." She tilts her head up, as though hearing something in the distance, though to Little Seed, the hall is quiet. "Come, we should not be near this gate. They will attack soon." And turning, she leads them inside. Introductions: Melrose Melrose Character Name: Melrose Player Name: Pav Feira Race: Earth Pony Mare Class: Schooled Bard 4 / Zen Archer (Applebucker?) Monk 1 Role: Support (Songs, Spells, Lasso), Ranged (Apples) Melrose opens her eyes. At once, terror grips her. Adrenaline shoots through her body. Something is wrong—something is terribly wrong. Wrong with her, wrong with the world. She isn't where she's supposed to be. There's something she needs to be doing—something very important—but she can't remember what it is and she isn't in the right place! Panic soon overwhelms her, and with a scream, she tumbles from her bed, landing on the floor with a hard thump. All around her, her room in Conservatory is just how she remembers it, but the things that once brought her joy elect only that bizarre feeling of alienation. The bright and garish posters on the walls, the glitter stuck to her shiniest possessions, the pile of glowsticks and on the dresser and the gemstones around her mirror. All is as it should be, but the more she sees the harder it is to face. Finally she can bear it no longer, and another terrified squeak escapes her. She shuts her eyes, and curls up into a ball on the floor with her blankets, trying to purge the horrible feelings that rack her body like a terrible curse. It is as she lies there that she notices another thing. It's quiet. It's never quiet in Conservatory. There's always drums banging and mental clanging and horns blaring, unicorns using lightning as a harp, and pegasai playing classical music in thunder. It's always booming, the floor always shaking. But now, it's silent. That doesn't make Melrose feel any better. To be sure, Melrose has had her fair share of nightmares. They all passed. This one will too. She just needs to hide her head under the blanket a moment more, and this tacky room with its garish horrors will be gone. Yes, any moment she'll be waking up now. Very soon. Maybe nip at her ankle to speed up the process. Well. Now her ankle hurts. Whipping the blanket off her head, she rises to her hooves. "Well," she remarks while making her way to her mirror, "this day is off to a lovely start. Now. Isn't. It." Her mirror is a… filly thing. All made of gold and filigree, and covered in gemstones that have been roughly affixed to the frame. She sees herself in its glass, with her auburn mane and chartreuse coat. It's more... colorful, than she remembers. She should be a nice, pleasant slate grey. But of all the horrible colors that adorn this horrible room, the color in herself is perhaps the one that doesn't set her off. That, at least, seems right. "Ugh. Who in their right mind would..." Something rattles about in the back of her mind. A faint memory. She quickly decides not to pull that particular thread any further, instead focusing back on fixing up her mane. Looking presentable. Maybe checking if all of her wardrobe isn't so... so… bedazzled. Oh sweet pegasai above. Is everything in her chest of drawers pink? Hot pink, even. With palm trees or other garish images on the front. She actually owns clothes with writing on them, ranging from merely tasteless to "If you're reading this, stop staring at my cutie mark," on a long saddle blanket. Melrose makes a low moan from the back of her throat, filled with pain and unfathomable sorrow. The only thing she finds that isn't completely repulsive is her old white choker, and that's shoved completely into the back, covered in dust. "Fine, just—" Catching herself, she takes a few calming breaths. "Fine." She affixes the choker then makes quickly for the door, having had far too much of this room that—oh stars above that can't really be her room. With a shake of her head, she exits. Her door opens into what appears to be a giant trumpet case. On account of the giant trumpet inside. Melrose's day has not improved. The space is an odd fusion of the Conservatory building she remembers and... well, a giant brass instrument. Each of the three sliders is also a door, roughly representing the three doors she remembers as being in her dorm hall. The latch on the case is another strange doorway, made all of brass, tucked in against the inside of the enormous carrying container. As she looks around, in a daze, she notices that one of the other two doors is cracked open, a tan eye staring out at her warily. There is a distinct possibility that this eye belongs to a pony. Possibly one who is not covered in glowsticks and glitter. She approaches the eye, not bothering to hide her weariness. "Oh, please please please tell me you're sane." There's a pause. "How do I know you're sane?" a stallion’s voice asks after a moment. Rolling her eyes and rubbing at her temple with a hoof, she replies, "Considering the condition of my room, there's a distinct possibility that I am not. Also, this hallway is a trumpet. So there's that." The eye scoots to the left, looking out at the hall. It squints a moment. Looks back at her. "I'm only coming out if you promise not to kiss me." Melrose stares. And stares. Juts her jaw a bit. "I'll try my hardest," she quips. "It's not funny!" the eye insists. And it's tone is rather upset. "The last thing I remember, I'm starting Conservatory, and then suddenly, everything goes all weird and there's a mare kissing me, and for some reason my room is full of acoustic guitars and smells like burning grass! I hate acoustic guitar!" Melrose takes an indignant sniff or two. That is, indeed, burning plant matter. A specific kind of it, even. "Yes, well, I'm not fond of glitter and... cutie-shorts," she says, the last word dripping with disdain. "So clearly, both our rooms have been fouled." She motions him forward with a hoof. "Just come on out of your room. I'm sure it would make you feel worlds better." "Well... alright." The door slowly swings open, and out steps a stallion. A unicorn, with a pale yellow coat and an off-blue mane. His cutie mark is unassuming—a series of musical notes and piano keys. A glance over his shoulder is enough to confirm that his room is full of guitars, as well as posters with pretentious quotes from dead ponies. He's looking at her carefully though, one ear tilted up. "Haven't we... met?" he asks. "Yeah. Yeah, on orientation day. We were both just moving in. You were… mmm… Mel… boure?" She gives him a studying glance, much the same as he's giving her. "Melrose," she corrects him, casual, distracted. She does indeed remember bits and pieces. Arriving at the Conservatory. A bit of practicing, of course. Perfecting that one fugue and—Right, the pony in front of her. Oh, of course she remembers his name. It was… Deep something. That's right. Because somepony made fun of him asking if his music was deep. Started with a C. Currents. "Deep Currents." She says it aloud without much confidence, but immediately it sounds right. "Yes, it is you, isn't it?" "Yeah, that's me." When he confirms his identity, the memories suddenly crystalize. Arriving at Conservatory. Meeting everypony. She hid her accent so well, nopony even noticed. Then they all started moving their stuff in and—something she doesn't want to think about. Many, many things. Deep Currents seems to get the same feeling, and suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Well. This is uh... strange. I guess we should try to find somepony and... figure out what's going on?" He doesn't sound at all assured. "Mmm," she replies, equally unconvinced. "At any rate, there's no point in staying around our... rooms. Maybe we could find our effects, or a way out, or just about anything else." "Y-yeah. Okay." He nods, keeping alongside her, as she opens up the case-latch doorway at the end of the hall. The doorway opens into a broader space. Melrose vaguely recalls this being a lounge for the attending students, but now the couches, tables, and fireplace are scattered about on a strange track. They seem to be floating in empty space, suspended above nothing, and the track forms the outline of a french horn. Doorways in space hang at odd angles, leading to who-knows-where, and in the center of it all, she can see an instrument stand set up, including a drum set, a series of flutes, and a gong. There's one other pony in the room: a rather nervous looking yellow pegasus with a wind-harp on her flank. She looks up as soon as the two appear, and then heaves a sigh of relief. "Oh! Good. Sorry, you two scared the heck out of me there. We're trying to gather everypony up in the common room. It's back through the door behind me. Think you can catch up?" "Uh... maybe?" Deep Currents looks at Melrose. "What's going on?" "I don't know. It's... weird." the pegasus answers with a frown. "I'll see you soon though, okay?" With that, she turns and makes her own way to the common room, leaving Melrose and Deep Currents to their own devices. "It would appear that the world's lost its collective mind. Though the lot of us have come to our senses." Melrose nods once to herself, then looks around at the instrument collection. Seeing if anything looks familiar in the unceremonious pile. That gong does. Somehow. She has unpleasant memories of... banging on it... while… She quickly suppresses the thought. Years of therapy will have to wait. "Let's go," Deep Currents says, starting off down the same path as the pegasus mare. "You know, a regular size Prench Horn has over ten paces worth of tubing it? So, walking around this room might take awhile." After a moment he adds, "Heh." Still, the gong seems familiar. Like she's used it before. The gong makes the faintest sound when Melrose picks it up with her tail. But it's a strange sound, not what Melrose was expecting. She can barely hear it, of course, but it's not nearly metallic enough. She gives the instrument a curious glance, then hoists it onto her back. "Sorry, this is just a lot to take in," Deep Currents continues, filling the void. "You can say that again..." Melrose trots up quickly to him, then matches his pace as they continue onward. "Still, instruments and students. Perhaps we're on the right path away from this madness after all." "What, you're thinking of finishing your musical education?" he asks with a little chuckle. "Insanity being no barrier to art." "After all the bits I paid to get in?" she replies, faintly quirking the corners of her mouth. He gets a good, proper laugh out of that. "Can't argue with that." "T'would be a shame to drop out now, just because the universe has gone mad." Deep Currents: "Well, you know. Dedication," he says as they trot down the long path. "It's funny though," he adds. "When I woke up this morning, I was playing the guitar. I mean, everything else was horrible. But I can't play the guitar. Couldn't. But I felt like I'd had lessons for... I don't know. A long time." Melrose makes a sour face. "Please tell me I didn't have, I don't know, glowstick lessons." "I remember..." Deep Currents suddenly makes a disgusted face, and his muzzle scrunches up. "Uuugh. I think you might have." Melrose groans. "But, uh..." he struggles for something more positive to say. "Maybe you had other lessons too. You might already be a graduate." Sighing, she shakes her head. "Well. We'll put this whole affair in order, but for now, let's just regroup with the others. Maybe you and the other unicorn can"—she waggles her hoof in a what’s-the-word sort of manner—"fix." "Oooh. Um. Well, you know how some unicorns have world-altering cosmic powers and... glowy eyes and stuff? My magic mostly tunes pianos." Deep Currents coughs. "But, maybe one of the others is a wizard." Melrose chuckles, good-natured. "Perhaps. Anyway, we should be nearly there... if this blasted place weren't so..." She falls off, grumbling. "Prench?" That earns a genuine laugh. Soon, they reach the door the pegasus mare took, and emerge out into a much larger common room. This room looks almost... sane. Granted, everything has a piano-key motif, and the floor makes sounds when Melrose steps on it, but that's not the craziest thing ponies have ever designed. It's a recognizable room, with couches and windows and a bunch of nervous-looking ponies with musical cutie marks. There's even sunlight from out the windows though it's... shifting oddly. Very quickly. "Oh, hey!" the pegasus mare from before says, everypony looking up. "See? I told you. I think that's everypony. You two were the only ponies left in that wing, right?" "I—" Didn't even think to check. Horseapples. "I don't know," Melrose admits. "I didn't see anypony besides you and Deep Currents, though." "I... don't remember anypony being in the third room on moving day." Deep Currents says, though he's hesitant. "Well, I guess we'll just go then." The pegasus mare shakes herself out, before turning to address the assembled ponies. "Um, okay. Hi. Everypony. I'm Chopsticks, and I'm one of the instructors here. Or I was, I guess. To catch everypony up, no, none of us have any idea what's going on. It looks like all the Conservatory rooms are still here... sort of. But, outside. Well..." She jerks her head toward the windows. "If you haven't taken a look yet, you should go ahead." Melrose gives a brief glance, watching for the irregular sunlight she noticed earlier. "Better than in here, or worse?" Deep Currents steps up to the window nervously, looking outside. He swallows. "Worse." "Of course," she says with a sigh, walking up to his side. Outside, she sees a world of swirling, floating islands. Of three suns and five and one-half moons, bouncing around the sky like billiard balls, while the islands flick and weave in and out of position. Melrose notes with slight confusion that the half-moon is particularly infuriating to her. At least full moons make sense, even if there's four too many. But where would the fun be in making sense? Melrose flicks an ear. "So, yeah," Chopsticks says, after a moment. "There's enough food in the pantry for a little while, and the well pump still works, so we're not in immediate danger. But... I'm open to suggestions." "Right. So perchance going outside isn't a great option." Melrose looks about the group of assembled ponies. "And even if nopony here knows any spells to get rid of all this, I mean... We could still fix up the place, by hoof?" "I... guess we could," somepony says. "But won't we need to go outside eventually?" That starts some discussion about how they could get things back in order—take an inventory of supplies maybe, map out the new building—when finally, one stallion pipes up, abruptly. "I heard a mare." When his odd outburst prompts stares, he blushes slightly, continuing. "When I woke up, I was freaking out. And uh... playing the ocarina makes me feel better when I'm stressed. But when I played it, there wasn't just music. I heard a mare’s voice." He looks around at his peers. "Has anyone else heard that?" There's some general shaking of heads. "What, instead of music?" Melrose arches an eyebrow. "You're saying there was a mare's voice inside your instrument?" An ocarina, though... hmm. "Uh... no," he insists, embarrassed. "I mean, I heard the music. I just also heard a mare shouting at me. I don't know if it's my ocarina or not but... I haven't tried again." He nudges the instrument by his hoof nervously. Melrose looks about, waiting for somepony to do or say something. Mostly the room just looks nervous. Scared and uncertain. Ponies have no idea what to make of this, and they aren't exactly a take-charge lot. She sighs, grabs the gong off her back, and hangs it from her upraised tail. "Well, that's reasonably sane, by today's standards. Let's see if Screaming Music Mare has anything useful to say." She gives the gong a few professional taps with her hoof, causing it to ring out and reverberate. She can't remember playing a gong before, come to think of it, and yet she knows how, turning her hoof just so as to produce a pleasant note. The gong rings clear, and under that note, she does indeed hear a mare’s voice. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" rumbles an authoritative, booming voice. But nothing follows it, and the gong falling silent. Melrose blanches, quickly looking about the other ponies' faces, but their reaction seems to put her at ease. About half the room looks excited—the other half worried. "That's not what it said when I played my ocarina," the first stallion says. Deep Currents nudges Melrose on the shoulder. “Try it again." Melrose shrugs. "Well, we've all lost our marbles, but at least we've lost them together, mmm?" She sets the gong ringing once more. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" is audible clear as a bell. But again, the gong falls silent. Thinking quickly, Deep Currents gestures across the room. His horn glows as he depresses a number of the piano-key motif pieces, and a few tones sound off in response. "I warn you, the journey will be perilous," sounds the mare. And then again she is silent. Catching on, Melrose motions to the pony with the ocarina. He lifts the ocarina, blowing a note. "I know you will not fail me, my little ponies." The mystery mare reassures. "Oh, I get it," Chopsticks nods. "They're out of order. Quick—what instruments do we have?" A massive search of the room and adjacent chambers commences at once. Experimentation determines that simply making noise with the instrument is not sufficient. One has to actually play it with a degree of skill. And that different instruments play different parts of the message for different ponies. As the ponies play a quick game of what Deep Currents can't help but describe as musical chairs, Melrose ends up with the other pony’s ocarina, since when he plays it, it produces a redundant section. Deep Currents is left to play the room with his horn while strumming a guitar with his hoof. Finally, shifting from instrument to instrument, the band begins to play. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" the voice booms inside the room, significantly louder now that the entire band is assembled. "Hear me and know that I am Luna, Princess of the Moon, and that by the strength and will of myself and my sister, Discord is defeated. The tyrant who corrupted your minds and turned your world of chaos lies as stone, and it is through his defeat that you are restored. "I hope that you are well, and that you recover quickly, but I must also seek your aid. There are creatures who would prevent my sister and I from restoring Equestria to its rightful form, and they now lay siege to us in our castle in the Everfree Forest. We are trapped within its walls and I fear we may not escape, and so I call upon all ponies of this land to come to our aid. "I warn you, the journey will be perilous. The world is not as you remember it, and many creatures will attempt to stop you. But all the world hangs in the balance. It is a time for ponies to discover the heroism within them. I know you will not fail me, my little ponies. Seek me out in the Everfree Forest. The sound of the music I have given will guide you there safely." Then the last note plays, and they're out of instruments. The room is for a moment, silent. A pony coughs. Melrose frowns sharply at the last bit, lost in thought for a moment. She absentmindedly rolls the ocarina about with her tail. "My grandmother met Luna once." Deep Currents says, in the tone of a stallion trying urgently to think about anything but the matter at hand. "She saw a hungry pony when it was starting to snow outside, so she took them home and fed them. And when the moon came up, they turned into a unicorn with the wings of a pegasus, thanked her for her kindness, and blessed her with good fortune." He looks about the room, meeting skeptic looks, and he squirms. "Or at least, that's how she explained never losing a game of chance. Ever." "...hmm. Well,” Melrose says at length. “It sounds like this, err... moon princess... needs the assistance of warriors." She looks about the room, dryly. "So if any of you know how to play the broadsword, or the axe..." "Oh yeah. You'd think Chopsticks is a musical reference, but I actually chop ponies. With sticks. It's my special talent." Chopsticks says, letting out a nervous laugh. "Sorry." "Yeah, I mean. That's a call for warriors," somepony else agrees. "Besides, just /look/ outside. There's not even any ground! We can't all fly." That produces a number of nods. "Then I suppose that's that,” says Melrose. “She asked for warriors, but she contacted the wrong ponies.” She punctuates that sentiment with a nod and an air of finality. Because that's that. Nothing more to think about. Or consider. "Yeah," agrees Deep Currents. Melrose grits her teeth. Grinds her hooves against the piano keys underhoof. And as she opens her mouth to speak— "I'm going." Melrose snaps her head upright and looks at Deep Currents, eyes widened with genuine shock. "Wait, what?" "Yeah. I mean. It's a terrible idea, and I can't fly,” says Deep Currents. “So I'll probably just walk out onto the edge of the island and look like an idiot." He forces himself to shrug, his body all tense. "But. It's a royal summons to save the world. I mean, from the Princess of the Moon instead of Princess Platinum. But that's still a Princess. And uh… Yeah." His gaze drops as his dramatic little speech loses its momentum. "Well..." Melrose kicks at the ground and sighs. "It's more than that, really. We have no idea if any warriors did hear the message. But we heard it. It's kinda..." She looks down at the floor, and as she murmurs, her ostentatious accent starts to sound a bit more… relaxed. "We got a responsibility t'look, right? Make sure the ponies git the message?" Melrose jolts a bit. "I, uh! I mean." She sits herself up straight and demurely coughs into the back of her hoof before resuming. "And besides, the message said something on that point—the sound of the music guiding us, or some such." She looks around the room. "It might be up to us to, well, lead the warriors to her." "Y-yeah!" Deep Currents adds, quickly, evidently a bit relieved to have the pressure off. "What she said." The others don't look so persuaded, though. A few are nodding, but Melrose is mostly getting a room full of blank looks. "I mean, we're not even near the Everfree Forest," one of them says. "And like, all ponies can sing? I'm sure Commander Hurricane can find her way with a good marching song." "Or Princess Platinum's wizards can just teleport there," adds another. "Right, exactly." The babble of conversation starts again, and it doesn't look to be going Melrose's way. Three more stallions stand up, including the one who had the ocarina, and Chopsticks floats over to join them, but that only makes the rest of the room more skeptical. "And you're even assuming that they, or the Chancellor, even received this moon message!" Melrose snaps, growing more indignant with each passing moment. "Perhaps the lot of you are content to sit about, wearing unspeakable phrases about your flanks, but I am not!" "Wait, what's that about phrases on our flanks?" one pony asks. She falters a moment. "Err, nevermind that! The point is—" "Wait, I think I'm getting a... memory or something?" "You most certainly are not!" Melrose shouts back, stomping a hoof. The pony tilts her head and looks upward, trying to remember a tune on the edge of her memories. "'Shake your tail because we're gonna have a party tonight?'" she half-sings. Melrose spins on the tips of her hooves, staring down Deep Current and the few other volunteers. "We are leaving. Immediately." "Right." Deep Currents affirms through his wince. "Err, right!" There is a bit more talking, despite Melrose's wishes, as the volunteers try to bring along others. But the class won't be moved, and it's only five ponies who step outside. Eventually, they emerge out of the front door of the conservatory, only to find that the front steps lead out into empty space. Around them, the suns, moons, and sky pinwheel endlessly, stretching off into infinity. "Well, uh..." Deep Currents draws a breath. "She said the song would show us the way, so… Da daa da da daaaaa~" At once, a chunk of rock hurtles out of the distant infinity, materializing at the base of the steps as a floating trail. "Well... okay," Chopsticks says, with a shrug. Melrose leaps back a bit, peering at the newly-formed path. "...indeed." She grabs out her ocarina again, and starts to play along. And so, the merry troupe marches along, their song making the path appear before them as they go, through the sky they twist, down strange passages and up sheer walls. They see impossible things: rabbits with legs ten feet tall, squares with no corners and animals that talk. They see pegasai with grey coats, floating between the islands and lounging on clouds, who throw rocks at Chopsticks when she tries to get near them. And all the while, their path stretches on, towards the infinite horizon. The composition of the path does change though. First it's city cobbles, then good road. Then bad roads. And now, dirt. The group has kept in remarkably good spirits, and while the journey has been taxing and at times scary, it's rarely been actually dangerous. The song, it seems, steers them away from the hard trails. "...I'm telling you, she wasn't a cheat!" Deep Currents insists in response to one of Chopstick's questions. "That mare could pick up ten dice and roll ten sixes. Reliably. She was blessed." "So she used her blessing from the Princess of the Moon to gamble?" one of the other stallions asks, rolling his eyes. "Well, Luna never showed up to complain. And it paid for me to be here, so shut up," Deep Currents grumbles. "It... does..." Melrose stretches her words and works her jaw. She clearly seems to be struggling to contribute. "I mean, there must have been some reason one would pick that. Of any possible favor. Ponies can surprise you, I suppose." "I suppose,” says Deep Currents. “Maybe moon-ponies approve of gambling. Or are just very honest." He still watches Melrose as they follow the herd, one of the stallions in front playing the song and leading the way. "Is everything okay?" "Hmm?" Melrose glances his way but quickly looks forward when she notices he's giving her one of those looks. "It is." "Oh, uh... good." He nods. "The trip is going well so far, I think. I mean, way better than I thought." "I suppose," she admits, giving a nod. "No sign of these 'warriors' yet, but, well. Perhaps your grandmother's luck rubbed off on you." "If that were true, I'd play an instrument you can bring on the road." Deep Currents says, trying to lighten the mood. "A piano isn't exactly—" Deep Currents cuts off abruptly when he walks face-first into the rear of the stallion in front of him. Their forward guard abruptly comes to a halt. Melrose frowns, leaning upright to peer over the top of them. "What? What's the matter?" She peers over the top of the stallions in front of her, and beholds… A vision of loveliness. Hark, cometh the doe. She who is more graceful than any pony, so fair the world itself sings for the joy of her passage. At a glance, Melrose knows it to be such. She can hear the music, and knows its gentle tune in every ripple of light upon this image before her. She beholds a thing like a mare, but not a mare. A doe. A creature with the most striking black eyes and a softly spotted coat. With legs so fine she seems to ghost upon the soil, and a frame as thin as any reed, bending as subtly with her movements. The slightest motion of her body betrays not just her beauty, but wisdom, and an ageless grace. Here is a creature that tumbled from eternity, and landed without a spot upon the world. She is bare, save for a swan feather tucked behind one ear, and three pony stallions who follow her, a single strand of spider web connecting each of them to her. "Uh... guys?" Melrose hears Deep Currents' voice, but it is distant, and unimportant. "Melrose? Why are you all just staring?" Melrose snorts at the stallions in front of her. Come now, it's just some female mare-like creature! And sure enough that sets all the stallions drooling. Just because she's got long legs. And… And a beautifully conditioned coat. And the way she just nimbly flitters about on her hooves, like a delicate young thing. And... And she looked at Melrose! That's enough to set the young musician's heart aflutter. She gasps a little, and leans her head away, trying to mask her involuntary blush behind her mane. Now she hears Chopstick's voice, sees her shaking one of the stallions violently. "Scales, snap out of it!" she shouts, but her voice is far away. At the end of a distant tunnel. "Scales, you're scaring me. Wake up!" Scales just shoves her away. No surprise. Here she comes! Chopsticks and Deep Currents both rear up, facing down the lovely doe as she approaches. Which is fine. More attention for Melrose. "Um..." Melrose stammers at the approaching doe. "H-Hi." "Who are you!?" Deep Currents demands. "What did you do to them?" "She is the fog of minds and the thief of hearts," says the first stallion who walks alongside the doe. "She is the majesty and the beauty of chaos," says the second. "She is the creature so graceful she flies on a single feather," says the third. "She is the Swan Deer," finishes the first. "But you," speaks the doe, with a voice so warm Melrose could melt in it, "may call me Tox." And nearly melt she does. This will likely make a painfully embarrassing tale at some point in the future, but for now Melrose is weak at the knees. "P-Pleased t'meetcha, Tox," she says, her fake accent completely forgotten. But after all, mares like a pony who can act like themselves around her, right? "You gotta be the most beautiful thing I err set eyes on, bar none." The other stallions reach up to brush at Tox's legs with a hoof—just to touch her. She politely brushes them away. "Yes, yes," she says, though Melrose's voice seems to catch her attention, and she gives Melrose an odd look for a moment. At least, until Chopsticks interrupts her train of thought. "Tell me what you did to my friends!" "Silly thing,” speaks Tox. “I did nothing to them. They're stallions. This is rather their natural state. Except this one, of course." Melrose can't help but swell with pride. She's ignoring those silly groping stallions, and has eyes just for her! Tox gestures, and as though on command, her three escorts rush to Deep Currents and seize him in a powerful grip. "Hey, hey! Let me go!" he shouts. "Mmmm." Tox reaches up, tilting Deep Currents’s head this way and that. Lifting his gums to look at his teeth. "A musician. Unicorn. Decent magical talent, if underdeveloped. Yes, I suppose you'll do. My old unicorn was wearing out anyway." The spiderweb connecting Tox to her unicorn tag-along uncurls itself, and at once, he slumps to the ground from what is obviously exhaustion. Melrose isn't sure how she didn't notice how thin he was before. Ribs showing, coat pale… But that's not important right now. The spiderweb touches Deep Currents's neck now, and at once, he stops struggling, falling back to all fours unrestrained. Deep Currents is her friend! Maybe that's an in with Tox. "You know," Melrose interjects, closing the gap a bit. But not getting all touchy, I mean, honestly now, some ponies... "Deep Currents and I just started at the Conservatory at the same time." She gives her mane a flirtatious little flip. I mean... Sure. She's seen other mares do that. She did fine. "Music's really been a passion of mine. 'Bout long as I can remember." "Melrose, what are you doing!?" Chopsticks shouts. Her voice isn't angry now. It's frightened, and she's backing away. "Guys please wake up." Tox looks down at Melrose, amused. "Honestly, are you what passes for a musician these days? I swear you lot get more feminine every year." That connects about as softly as a sack of bricks. "Ex-CUSE me, but I'll have ya know I been playin' since I was only a little ol' sprout,” Mel snaps, snarling at her. “Just name any ol' instrument and I'll play the applesauce outta it!" Okay, she's got a nice coat but seriously. Tox takes a quick step back, eyes wide. "How dare you!?" she shouts. "No, how dare you!" Melrose shouts right back. "Struttin’ about like yer some kinda debutante, 'n thinkin' that ponies'll just roll with it cuz yer nine different kind of hot! And ya totally are, don't get me wrong, but I will not tolerate ya talkin' down to me like that, y'hear?" she says, posturing herself up as much as she can against the much taller doe. There's a pause. "Oh dear stars it's a mare," Tox mutters, taking a quick step back before Mel can touch her, her tone wholly disgusted. Melrose blinks. A lot. "Yeh?" "Oh dear you... oh," she shakes her head. "Just keep it away from me." At once, the other three stallions move between Mel and Tox, shoving her back and away. "I... Wait no, Tox!" Melrose tries to no avail to push through the stallions. "Tox, 'm sorry I snapped at ya like that. Ya just struck a nerve, but ain't nopony deserved to get a scoldin' like that...." "Ugh." Tox makes a face, giving a little flick of her tail as she turns away. "I can't believe it spoke to me. Hideous thing." "I am so terribly sorry, my lady," Deep Currents says in a dull voice, trotting by her side. "It's my curse, you know,” says Tox. “I bring them out of th—" "Well ‘ugh’ yerself, ya nasty she-wench!" Tox freezes. "Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten." "Oh, you heard me!" Melrose bellows, her face beet-red. "'s bad enough ya insult me once, but ya insult me a second time and I am not rightfully gonna stand by and take it!" Deep Currents turns to Tox. "Would you like me to give her a sound thrashing for speaking to you that way, my lady?" "No. That won't be necessary. Sweet of you to offer though." Tox brushes Deep's head. "You three," she says, gesturing at the three stallions still under her spell. "That deviant mare insulted me. I'd be ever so grateful if you'd..." Tox pauses a moment to think things over. "Eat her." "I..." Melrose’s face goes blank as she stares at Tox. She has trouble parsing that particular sentence. "...like. Live... or?" Scales asks. "Oh, anything is fine, I'm sure," Tox says, so sweet and cheerful. "...well, if that'll really make you feel better." One of them lifts a big, heavy rock. "Listen, Mel. I'm really sorry about this." Okay now she's getting it dodge dodge— "Wait!" Tox calls out as the stallion lifts the rock; they all look her way. "After you're done, throw yourselves off the tallest cliff you can find." "Anything for you, Tox!" they answer. "That's a good stallion." Tox smiles, takes her swan-feather in her teeth, and with a single flap of it, she's aloft, dragging her three bound stallions with her. The stone-carrying stallion looks back, just in time to see Melrose buck him in the face. He staggers back onto the ground, dazed and bloodied, but the other two aren't deterred. "Get her!” one screams, as they tackle Melrose to the ground, kicking and biting. The battle soon turns into a confused melee, as Chopsticks rushes back and tries to pull them off, while they kick and scrap with Melrose on the ground. Now, strictly speaking, it is not proper to play a gong by repeatedly beating a crazed stallion with it, but Mel is largely playing this one by ear. Improvisation, after all, is key to a musician. Finally, with one last resounding bang of the going, Scales slumps out of the fight. Chopsticks is badly bruised by a buck she took in the side, and Mel herself is bruised, scraped, and adorned with several nasty bite marks. Also her gong is dented. But they're both alive, and the three mesmerized stallions are out of the picture. With Tox gone, Melrose's mind starts to clear. The enchantment fading along with the adrenaline in her blood. She gasps for breath, sitting herself back on her haunches. "Oh stars. I... I can't believe I..." She stares wide-eyed at Chopsticks. "And Deep Currents! He... he's..." "He's gone!” Chopsticks shouts. Bellows really. Melrose cringes sharp at the rebuke, while she continues, "He's gone what were you thinking!? You just stood there and—" Chopsticks trails off, suppressing a sniffle as her panic works its way to the surface. "I-I'm sorry, I..." Melrose drops off quickly as she realizes how pointless her apology is. "What were you thinking, Mel, huh!? We can't just leave these three here! They'll starve or get eaten! So now we have to drag them back, except we can't, because when they wake up they might try to kill you and eat you! How screwed up is that!? She was right there, Mel! This horrible, unreal thing, and you call just stood there! You stood there and—" "I know. I know!" Melrose shouts back, holding her own head in her hooves. Finally, Chopsticks breaks down, starting to sniffle and shake uncontrollably. "I know." Chopsticks needs a moment, trying to collect herself and failing. She can't stop the tears or the shaking, but she makes herself stand up. "Well forget it! I'm going back to the conservatory." Melrose looks down at her hooves. "You can't,” she replies, weak and quiet. “I know, okay? This is scary, and hopeless, and a ton of danger. But... Scales and them need help," she says, motioning to the unconscious stallions. "And Deep Currents. And even this moon princess." She looks to Chopsticks. "We gotta. Even if it looks hopeless... we still gotta." Chopsticks looks at Melrose, shaking from head to hoof, a shivering that won't stop. "Fine. Fine!" she shouts at last, gathering up two of the unconscious stallions, dragging them along as she beats her wings. "Fine just shut up and lets go! Sing the stupid song my throat hurts." "Thank you," Melrose says quietly, eyes still downcast. Grabbing the remaining stallion and the unicorn abandoned by Tox, she heads up to the front and sings. The world around them starts to darken as they walk, and it is not long before they see their first pony warriors. In the distance, they can see a flight of pegasus knights, most of them already in chains. The mares are screaming for the others to snap out of it, while the stallions cheerfully chain themselves up, letting themselves be lead away by a horde of vicious dog-beasts. Then there are trees, and they lose sight of the ponies, though the smell of the dog-beasts remains. In fact, it grows stronger. They pass through dark woods, among terrible monsters, so close to them that they can smell the creatures’ vile breath, and Melrose doesn't dare sing the song louder than a whisper. But sing it she does. Until a castle becomes visible in the distance. And gates. Their path takes them down into a ravine, to a little statue of a pony nestled into the rock. And when Melrose sings to it, it slides away to reveal a tunnel beyond. Earlier today, Melrose saw an impossible mare. A deer. A thing of transcendent beauty. Now, she sees another impossible mare. A pegasus with a unicorn's horn. A mare with a dark blue coat, and a mane made of stars. One greeted her with scorn, and indifference, but this one greets her with a sad smile. "Come in," she says. "Quickly, you mustn't linger outside." Melrose moves along without much of a reply. She walks with the unbalanced urgency of a weary pony who's nearly at their rest. The Princess of the Moon gestures her inside, and the door shuts behind them. "I heard you as you approached. I am sorry for what you suffered, but you must come with me. We have little time, and much to discuss." Introductions: Amethyst Shard Amethyst Shard Character Name: Amethyst Shard Player Name: Ether Echoes Race: Crystal Pony Mare Class: Vitalist 5 Role: Healing Amethyst Shard opens her eyes. She hasn't slept in a long time. A time so long she cannot remember when it began, and the time before it is sometimes hazy and unclear. Sleep is a thing for flesh, and she is something else. She could work all day and all night, if she wished. Or play. She has done both. But lately, she often finds herself using that time to lie in bed. Not to rest, but simply because there doesn't seem to be anything else worth doing. To let things pass. She heard the villagers outside awhile ago. Raising up quite a ruckus. Shouting something about a princess and dreams. They didn't bother her about it though. Nopony ever visits. And she hasn't dreamed in a long time either. She's still staring at the ceiling when there comes a knock at the door. It has been so long since such a thing came—and so deep is her malaise—that she thinks she imagined it at first. But then it comes again. Polite, but insistent. This time she knows it is real, but simply feels no inclination to answer. A third come it comes, later in the day, perhaps. Maybe this time she'll answer is. Amethyst Shard: "It opens," she answers, surprised momentarily that her voice still works. A fourth time, the knock comes. Her caller does not speak. Not that she's in any state to receive guests, dusty as her cabin is. She can grow the strangest things out of crystal, not merely carving objects, but growing whole plants or creatures in her own glittering image. But now, her creatures are still, and her creations lie covered in a fine layer of neglect. But her guests seem determined to be received. Amethyst Shard sighs, expelling air from her lungs. She gets to her feet, still surprised that her limbs creak. They don't make the crackling noise they used to, that hum of microfractures which signalled glass and crystal bending and rehealing. She works the kinks out from unused tendons and walks over to the door. Her mane hangs long, almost to the floor, having not touched a razor since her return, each strand as smooth as glass wire. Amethyst pushes the door open. On the other side of the door sands a strange creature. It resembles a dog that walks on two legs, its forepaws elongated and twisted to form grasping limbs. Its face is ugly and squat, as that of an ill-bred mutt, and its teeth jut out in the most ill-kept condition. It would look like an altogether barbaric sort of creature if not for its dignified stance and upright bearing, conveying an air of civility. Two of its kind stand behind it, and all three wear vests that match their slate-grey coats. "Pardon me," the one at the door says. "We are seeking the mare of the house." "She stands before you," Amethyst says, her voice low with a faint ring. "A pleasure to meet you," says the first of the dog creatures. The Alpha of the pack, as it were. "Our master has bade us present our services to you as a gift, to ensure all is prepared and ready for your fiance's arrival." Her eyes, which had been wandering, now focus on the leader with a hardness they haven't had in a goodly while. Gem hard. "I am unbetrothed." "That is so," Alpha agrees, maintaining his polite tone. "For it would hardly be proper for you to be betrothed to a creature you have not yet met. But you shall meet him soon, and as a gesture of courtesy, we are to ensure you and your dwelling are presentable for your first encounter. As as he is the creature you will one day marry, it would therefore be correct to say you shall soon meet your fiance." "I have had a lover. I shall not again." The fog flees from Amethyst’s mind as she regards them, her attention now wholly theirs. "What is this talk? What are you?" "It is not the place of a servant to correct a lady," Alpha says, with an apologetic bow of his head. "Nonetheless. We are servants. And we are here." "Serve elsewhere. This home is empty." "Then the mare of the house refuses her gift?" Amethyst Shard feels a bit of her old self come through as she snorts. "Look inside. What do you see? Dust and dry crystal. No one lives here, so there's no one to accept your gift." "Begging the mare's pardon," the diamond dog says, after a moment, "but as I shall surely be lashed for failure to complete my appointed task, it behooves me to point out that there is also no one to refuse it." "You want it, then?” Amethyst asks. “You're welcome to it." "Very well." He gives a graceful bow, and the other two hurry forward. Both nod their heads to her, but their motions are more quick than deferent. Firm paws push her back and guide her haunches to the floor, while another set examine her mane and the crystal fibers therein. When one pulls open his vest and it seems for a moment to be full of knives, Amethyst has a moment's cause to suspect foul intentions. But then, the knives are revealed to be scissors, the second one—call him Beta—carefully straightening out her mane as the third wipes away the fine layers of dust, setting the house in order with an unnatural speed and finesse. "Get your claws off me," Amethyst says, disgusted. Her objections only result in her being held surprisingly forcefully. The three of them trained well in the use of joints and pressure to disable a pony without allowing them to struggle. "Brush the pre-tty poh-nee's mane and Comb the pre-tty poh-nee's tail, Pet the pre-tty poh-nee's coat and Keep the pre-tty poh-nee hale." "I am warning you," she growls. "You want the house, fine—leave me out of it. I am nobody's mare, not anymore." "Not anymore, no," Alpha agrees. "But we are here on behalf of your future, not your past, and our master would hardly force you to suffer the indignity of meeting that future unpresentable." He looks to the others. "Continue." The other two resume their work. Her mane is cut, her coat cleaned, all while she is held immobile. Three sets of powerful limbs grip her face to hold her perfectly still so they can pluck her eyebrows, polishing her face until it's translucent. "Shine the pre-tty poh-nee's hooves and Braid the pre-tty poh-nee's hair, Dress the pre-tty poh-nee well and Give the pre-tty poh-nee care." Amethyst Shard growls, struggling in their grip uselessly. Damn her pathetic, delicate limbs. She used to pound creatures like this into the ground for fun. But that's not what she is, not anymore. She's something else, now, something strange and exotic. "Fine. Maybe I can't fight anymore..." Her eyes light up and a vaguely equine shape made of sharp planes and angles appears before her out, all hard light. "But they can." Her astral summon leaps at her attackers, scattering them about the room, but it fails to actually hit any of them. Amethyst is free, but as her construct bucks, kicks, and slices, she sees that the three dogs are easily able to dodge its attacks. Despite that however, they seem unwilling to actually hit back. And so they're driven about the room, and away from her, giving her a moment to breathe. That suits her fine. Hurting things... no longer interests her as might it once have. Amethyst Shard looks through the open door, seeing what's going on outside. "Nothing," would be the short answer. The chaos is as it always is. But as her construct herds the three dogs around the room, she does see a point in the chaos that isn't shifting with the rest. A constant shape in the distance, brown and blue, vaguely in the outline of a pony. It seems to be watching the house. For a few moments, Amethyst isn't sure what to think. Part of her just wants to slam the door shut and pretend it never happened. Let them come if they wanted, what does anything matter anymore? Except the dog-beasts were quite clear. They want her to wed. They want to defile the last happy memories she has left to her. Her mouth tightens into a hard line and she goes back in, blowing dust off nondescript items. A fine shirt of dark crystal likes. A spiny crown of milky-white. A few small personal effects, including a pink stone on a cord. She held it in her hoof, looking at it for a while—it was a cloudy, arguably ugly piece, one of the first she'd made. But she'd made it at his urging... his push to get her to open up, to test herself, instead of wallowing in her own pity. What irony. The dog creatures have managed to restrain her construct, but at this point, it's obvious they're loathe to actually harm it, and concerned that she'll just summon more if they try to restrain her. And so, they can do little but watch as she gathers her things and stalks outside, towards the figure in the distance. "You know, I learned how to do that to protect our child. Seems a waste here," Amethyst says over her shoulder. "But screw you lot." Taking the final insult, she lights a torch, and sends it spinning with her mouth into the thatch. "Wait!" Alpha shouts, but too late, as the thatch is set alight. Her eyes reflect the growing flames as the dry brush catches. "I take it back. You can't have that, either. That's the house we built together." The dogs leap into action, hurriedly moving to smother the flames, but as they do, the distant figure starts to approach. Their actions pause, and a mien of fear sweeps over the three of them. Quickly, they abandon their efforts and form an orderly line, ignoring the burning building behind them. The figure in the distance is also very strange, but in a different way from the dog-creatures. It is wrapped head to hoof in a heavy oilcloth shroud, covering it so completely that not a single inch of it can be seen all the way to the ground. Its body has the same general outline as a pony, but it is too big, and too lithe, and too tall, and emerging from either side of the cloth that covers its head are two magnificent, elegant antlers made of shining glass. As he draws closer, Amethyst can head his steps. It is a sound she is very familiar with. Crunching broken glass. The figure stops perhaps a dozen paces from the burning house, lifting its... head covering, to look at her. Amethyst Shard turns from the flames, tosses her head, and shifts her delicate legs. She feels alive again. It's an unwanted, unwilling life, but there it is all the same. "Are you the one who sent them?" "He is the sound of wind chimes in a hurricane," says the first dog. "He is the pure notes of a broken string," says the second. "He is the dirge of stained glass," says the third. "He is the Deer Whose Song Shattered the World," finishes the first. "And you have upset my bride," says the figure to the three. His voice is rough, and harsh, and the anger comes through clearly. "Go until we cannot see that you will not disturb us. Then beat yourselves." "Yes, Master," Alpha says, with just a hint of a cringe, and the three turn and walk off. It's only when the three are gone that the figure speaks again. "Please, forgive me my errors. I am Melos." "You're still making one,” retorts Amethyst. “Forgiveness requires stopping." Melos pauses, and the cowl nods. "It does," he agrees. His voice is softer now, though still rough and deeply scratchy. Full of odd sounds. "But I shall not have the first words I speak to my future bride be a lie, and what I have said is so, not a wish, but the unpolished truth. I do not doubt there is a way to polish that gem so it will not cause you pain, but I lack the understanding to create such a work." Amethyst Shard touches the pink stone hanging from her neck. "That was always your domain. So please, tell me how I may stop causing you pain." "I have loved, and lost,” says Amethyst. “I don't desire to love again. Begone, and you will stop causing me pain." "That is not within my power," Melos says, with a little shake of his head. "What has been said will be." Amethyst Shard shakes her head. "If that were the way things worked, then I'd be awash in earth pony stallions and still weigh twenty stone." Melos tilts his head a moment—his antlers moving in time. "It should not surprise me that you have had many suitors. Certainly you are worthy of such a thing. Yet I still feel a pang of jealousy." "Many suitors. One love.” She fixes him with a look. “You won't replace him." "...no," Melos says, after a noticeable pause. "No, I will not. But you will love again. May I approach?" She snorts. "No." "I know where he went." Melos says, after another time. "Your first love. And I know that you shall see him again." Her heart pounds. "What?" "He was broken and sent away. To the north. And to the end of the world. You will see him there, before we are wed, and it is by your will he will be restored." Melos speaks in a steady and even tone, tinged perhaps with sadness. Her lips open, then shut. The aching loneliness in her heart throbs, but each beat winds up a golden thread. A little, fluttering hint of hope. "A little tip... when you're wooing a mare, it's a good idea not to presume success. You could do to take a lesson from him. He built me up from nothing. For no other reason than because he didn't like seeing me down. And for that, I came to him. He's the only one I mean to wed." "I am not a builder, fair lady. I do not create, but destroy. And," Melos adds, "I do not presume, but merely state the world as I have observed it. But… It it pleases you, I shall take as many lessons from him as I am able. May I approach?" he repeats. "You don't seem bad, aside from that," she observes, but shrinks away. "I don't like being touched." "It was not my intention to touch you, good mare. But my vision is poor." The oilcloth over his face noticeably lacks eye holes. "And I should like to see you better." Amethyst Shard glances around. Nopony. Just them and the chaos. And of course, the burning building, which by now is getting rather warm on her rear. "Fine." He steps up towards her at a measured pace, the sound of broken glass carrying with every step. Amethyst feels her hairs stand on end at each time. That awful sound haunted her for so long… When he gets near her though, another sound joins it. This one she is also familiar with. The strange cracking that signals glass magically pulling together. The sound her body made after a part of her broke. Melos finally stops a few paces in front of her, keeping a respectful distance, waiting for that unnatural crackling to stop. And when it has stopped, he reaches up and pulls back his hood, revealing a head and a face made of beautiful glasswork. It's different from a pony’s face, long and slender, and his features are adorned with jewelry made of tuning forks and tiny wind chimes. His joints move smoothly, and when he lowers his head, the motion of glass-on-glass creatures a pure note. Like something rubbed against the top of an open wine glass. Melos draws a breath, and his eyes refocus on her. He takes a moment to stretch his jaw. Gather his thoughts. "My apologies for my earlier rudeness." Amethyst Shard watches in a weird mix of horror and fascination. "What are you?" "I am the Deer Whose Song Shattered the World," he says, and now his voice isn't scratchy or broken at all. It's pure, and sweet, and sad. "If you can forgive a... pretentious title." He smiles slightly at that, though it isn't a joyful smile. "And you are the pony who is going to put it back together. And when you do, yes. We will be wed. I mean this only as a statement of the future I have foreseen, and not to impose upon your person. I have never been wrong before, but perhaps there is a first time for everything." "I'm terrible at fixing things," says Amethyst. "Perhaps you will learn." Melos lifts his head to look at her burning house. "I really made a mess of this didn't I?" "I won't say it's the worst suit I've ever had." "I am not always... in order, mentally. I am a part of the world, you see. But you have fixed that, at least for the time being. So now, if you'll hear me, I think we should talk." "I don't know what you're talking about," she admits. "I'm not a smart pony. I bucked apples and then I bucked ponies and then things got weird. But fine, I can listen. Nothing else to do." "I am, as was said before, a deer, hailing from my herd's distant home of Deer na Nog. Almost an age ago, a great spirit of chaos drew us to this plane, and here we made our dwelling, and earned our names. But now, that age is coming to an end. And you have a part to play in its ending." Melos's antlers shimmer, and the fire starts to die down. He sinks to the grass, politely waiting for Amethyst to join him; Amethyst reluctantly does as well, her tail flicking to curl around her "Time as well as space were broken,” Melos continues, “by this spirit’s will and my singing, and a shard of me scattered into that time, when our age in this world will end. I saw you there, and myself. I saw you return to your people—to the other ponies who are crystal as you are. I saw you save them, and restore your first love. And then we were married. And I saw you return to Deer na Nog with me, before the world came to an end." She gives him a look. "And why in the heck would I do that?" "I am uncertain," Melos says. "When I am whole, I am in only a single place, and so now I cannot see what I have described. When I am shattered, my mind is split a thousand ways, and I am prone to severe errors in judgement… as you have seen." He smiles, and it elects a soft note in glass, his jewelry chiming. "But, I recall that you seemed pleased with my company." Amethyst Shard purses her lips. "I don't know about the future, either. Unless you're actually him, I don't think it's likely. Hell if I know." "Language." Melos rebukes, more surprised than judgemental. "I'm really salty, you may have noticed." "Burning down your house was a clue," Melos chuckles. "Perhaps then, if you think it unlikely, you'll indulge an old deer's delusions for the sake of other ponies you'll meet?" "I can listen,” Amethyst says. “I'll do that much." "I am... not sure how to tell the rest.” Melos admits, his slight frown electing a more dour note out of his frame. "I have seen pieces of your journey. That you will leave here to join Princess Luna in her castle. That you will journey across Equestria. That we will meet exactly three more times, before our final reunion. But I am not an oracle. And my motivations for being here are not as simple as a devotion to fate. If they were," he points out. "I would simply leave. Destiny is destiny after all. What's the sense in hurrying along what I believe to be pre-ordained?" "What is it, then?" "As I said, you seemed quite pleased with me in the end.” He pauses. “And... I with you. My kind and I broke this world, and I will not deny my name was well earned. But now it is broken. I am ready for what comes next." "Well, why'd you come here then?" she asks. "I wanted to see you," Melos says plainly. "Properly, that is." Amethyst Shard flicks her tail. "Well. I dunno how to take this. You came off at a bad start, honestly." "I saw you in a state. And thought... well.” He shakes his head. “My thoughts are often confused." "I'm awake now, in any case. Also I burned my house down so I can't go back to moping there." Amethyst sighs. "But now I know there's a hope. Far to the north, huh?" Melos nods. "With the other ponies who are like you. The ponies made of crystal, in their northern empire." "Never heard of it. But I guess that's where I'm going." "Yes, it... is." Melos catches himself. "If you'll forgive the presumption." "And where is this 'princess'? I don't get on much with unicorns.” Amethyst Shard rises to her feet and dusts herself off with a hoof. “I don't think they elect royals do they? Just seems like it's asking for trouble." "They do not. But she is not quite a unicorn." Melos gestures into the distance with his antlers. "You shall find her in the Everfree Forest, where my kin lay siege to her castle even now. Wandering the formless chaos, it shall take an eternity for you to find her. But in the chaos, that shall not trouble you overly. Walk until you see her and you will be there." "Great," she says, looking at him strangely. "Well. It was.. interesting meeting you, Melos. If we do end up married that'll be kinda weird. But I guess we'll see." Melos seems frozen with a terrible indecision. He clearly wants to reach out to her, yet at the same time, seems to understand why he shouldn't. Finally, with a note of breaking strain, like a colt proclaiming their love to their first crush, he blurts out: "Good luck." Amethyst Shard almost instinctively shrinks back. Just the memory of her skin… "Thanks." "I suppose you should... go now.” His joints sing as he rises—a beautiful tune that makes her body resonate in kind. "I'll... see you soon?" Amethyst Shard nods curtly, then steps off smartly. She's not as strong as she was, but her hooves still work. As she pulls away from him, his glass body starts to crack, and fracture, and he quickly restores the hood that hides his face. That sound continues as she steps away, playing at her ears, until she is finally lost to the distance. Then, she walks. And walks. How long she couldn't say. Possibly forever. She doesn't age after all, nor does she need to eat or rest. She encounters many things of note, but they are not the Princess she seeks, and so she keeps walking, through the random points of infinite space that surround her. Until, finally, having exhausted every point in the cosmos that is not her destination, there is only one place left for her to be. She is glad her memory at least is limited, because that sure sounds like it would be boring. And so she finds herself standing atop the battlements of a wind-swept castle, looking out between the crenelations at the horde that gathers below. A massive camp lit by firelight, in which monsters, and terrible beasts, and catapults can all be seen. "Intruder!" shouts a voice just behind her, hooves scrambling all around her. And when she looks back, there are a number of black-coated mares in silver armor pointing spears in her direction. Amethyst Shard looks back at them, then at the sharp points of the spears. "I've come to see Princess Luna. You lot from her?" "Who are you and how did you get up here!?" one of them shouts, evidently not in a question-answering mood. "I'm Amethyst Shard, and I walked. It took me a very, very long time, but apparently you can get just about anywhere if you're patient enough." But as she does, one of the others tugs at her tail. "She doesn't have any dreams," the second one whispers. "And look! She's all shiny." Amethyst Shard looks down at her coat, lifting a hoof to inspect it. She is indeed all shiny. Crystally, even. "Huh. Look at that," she says, a sort of dull marvel. She touches the stone at her throat. "Like it was before, only not so... bad." "I think she's a crystal pony," the second guard whispers. "Princess Luna will want to know about this." Gradually, the first guard lowers her spear. "I guess I am," Amethyst agrees. "Very well," says the first guard. "Come with us." "Lead on." And the guards lead Amethyst inside. Introductions: Ruby Blaze Ruby Blaze Character Name: Ruby Blaze Player Name: A Dragon Dreaming Race: Earth Pony Class: Dragon Warrior (Fighter) 5 Role: Bruiser Ruby Blaze opens his eyes. It would not be inaccurate to say that his dreams were strange last night. A mare with wings and a horn, and a mane like stars, calling him to join her at her enchanted castle to do battle with a great evil. She was beautiful, and regal, and even upon waking, her words ring clear in his mind. It's just that, well, his dreams are often strange. And sometimes involve strange mares. It's a normal reaction to never having met a real mare—or so his dad keeps telling him. He has met greycoated mares of course, but they aren't real ponies, and all they do is lie to him and torment him. Not that that always matters. Puberty is stupid. Talon got awesome fire-breath and a spiked tail, and all Ruby got was a deeper voice and issues with girls. Still, this dream did seems sharper than the rest, and it doesn't retreat into the fog of sleep upon waking like most of his dreams do. His dad's told him about winged and horned mares before. Well, one mare. Celestia. Maybe that's who he was dreaming about. In any case, he's awake now. And his dad and brother will probably be waking up soon. Time to get up. Ruby Blaze stretches where he lies, legs reaching for the ceiling of the dragon den, and then, with a heave, he rights himself. A twist of his neck and a shaking of his coat to dislodge the little bits of earth that always come along from his own personal bed of loam, and he's pretty much up. Might go the river for a swim later. But that would be later. He leaps down off the shelf of rock, hooves scattering the gems beneath, and heads for the main den. The world around him glitters and shines, the floor covered in a carpet of gems and golden coins. Ruby knows for a fact that his dad can tell when so much as a single coin in the hoard is disturbed, though they are the least of the treasures here. The real wealth of the pile are those items upon which Ladon sleeps. The bells of Starswirl the Bearded, the Cage that Held the Sun, the long range pony shaver. All are devices of great and potentially terrible power, left to Ladon by Ruby's grandmother. Celestia. He's never met her. But he hears she's very nice. Ladon twitches slightly, when Ruby enters the room. A great wyrm, he lies curled about the center pile of his hoard, resting his body on top of it and wrapping his tail around its edge. His scales are a deep, burnt green that transitions well into the off-yellow of his claws and frill. Nearby, on another left like Ruby's, Talon sleeps. Ruby's little brother isn't exactly little anymore—still in the middle of his own growth spurt, he stands a good head and shoulders above his older sibling. Luckily, while he's gotten bigger, he's also gotten less stupid. Okay a little less stupid. Outside the cave, the sun spins like a top through the sky, but Ruby has a good sense of how long he's been asleep. It's just about that time. Ladon twitches another claw again, always slow to rouse. His neck cracks as he lifts it up, letting out a yawn and a blast of morning breath that could—and does—corrode the rock of the cavern. Ruby Blaze grimaces. "You need to eat more emeralds, dad." "Mmm. And are you offering to go and dig them up?" Ladon replies, still sleepy, a little burst of fire around his teeth cleansing them of any offending matter. That sound is enough to wake up the others present—Talon, Viper, and little Scale. "Nah." "Mmmph. What a lazy child I've raised," he chides gently. His tail sweeps across the room as he rises, digging a furrow in the little layer of dirt. He stretches, much like Ruby, the loud cracking of his joints awaking the lazier of his sons. "You know, back in my day, your grandmother made me dig for every coin in this hoard myself." "Exactly. If I got the emeralds for you, I'd just be stepping all over her lesson." "And how do you expect to have a hoard of your own with that attitude?" Ladon asks, though his steps are taking him towards Scale. The little one is always slow to rouse, and sometimes needs a nudge. "By digging it up." He taps a hoof to the ground. "Also maybe get some from diamond dogs as punishment for trying to steal the stuff I dig up." Ladon gives Scale a firm poke with a claw, the not-quite-baby dragon responding by letting out a little puff of fire and curling tighter into a ball. 'G'way,' he grumbles, but Ladon is not to be discouraged. “I've talked with you about that sort of reasoning," Ladon says, with a bit of genuine rebuke in his tone. It's hardly unheard of for dragons to 'appropriate' gems from other races, particularly Diamond Dogs. "But, I suppose you're old enough to make your own decisions. You should start getting ready to go." "Go?" Talon asks, clearly not following. "Go?" Ruby echoes "Go?" Viper throws in quickly. Just to not be left out. Hurrying to the center of the room to beat Talon there also helps. Ruby half rolls his eyes at Viper. "You didn't have odd dreams tonight, Ruby?" Ladon asks, as he finally manages to nudge Scale up, the little dragon yawning as he climbs to his feet. Like Viper, he's still young enough to prefer his hind legs. Talon in is starting to favor all-fours. "Your grandmother said you'd probably be hearing from your great aunt.' He blinks. Great aunt? Oh right. Grandmother had a sister. "Wings and a horn, with a flowing, starry mane." Not that he'd ever seen the stars outside of dreams. "Yes, that's her," Ladon nods. "I'm sure I've told you your great aunt Luna is the guardian of dreams? "Go on, Scale. Get ready and eat your diamonds," he asides, nudging the little dragon along. He clearly doesn't want to go—wishing to remain a part of the conversation—but after a few more nudges towards the side chamber, he gets the hint that he's being dismissed. "She spoke to you, didn't she?" "She didn't speak to me," Talon says, frowning. Ruby doesn't grin. That would be way too obvious and kinda mean. Doesn't keep from smirking a little inside, though. "Your great-aunt probably didn't realize she should be speaking to you," Ladon says, in an even rumble—gesturing the three older children around into one space. "She never kept up with me like your grandmother did. No. Her message was for all ponies. Did you hear it, Ruby?" "Yes." He draws himself upward a bit—a rigid stance, head held high, tail held just so—proclamation pose. "Dink,” Talon says. "Stinkbreath," Ruby counters. "Talon, don't interrupt your brother," Ladon rebukes. Talon grumbles. He doesn't remember all of the speech. But he remembers enough. "Discord, who shattered the world and drowned it in chaos, lies trapped in stone, bound there by the power my sister and I wield, and so you are set free. "But the creatures of his chaos beset our castle, laying siege to it from all directions, and so I call for aid. Come to me, ponies! Rise up and fight for your future!" He relaxes. "There was more, I think, but that's the important bit." "That is the important part," Ladon agrees. With a gesture to Talon and Viper he adds, "And that message was for you two as well, even if your great aunt didn't know to deliver it to you. "Your grandmother and great aunt have decided that the time has come for the chaos to end. That means Equestria going back to the way it was before. No more monsters, no more greycoats. And they need our help." "So we're going!?" Viper blurts out quickly. Talon rolls his eyes. "We will be helping them, yes. Viper, you will be staying behind to watch over Scale and the hoard," before Viper can object—and it's clear he's about too—Ladon silences him with a firm strike of a claw on the stone. "And you are staying because you are old enough that I trust you with Equestria's greatest treasures and your /little brother/! It is an enormous responsibility and I will not have you shirking it." Viper is cowed by the preemptive display, finally grumbling, "Yes, dad." "Talon and Ruby—you two will come with me." Ruby Blaze nods. Chaos creatures. It's not like he hasn't tangled with them before, really. Greycoats, diamond dogs, other things—you'll run into them sooner or later if you go outside. But he's never gone looking for them, or gone looking to fight them, or gone looking to fight an army of them. His eyes shift to Dad's hoard. He didn't exactly have scales of his own. "Yes, Ruby," Ladon answers the question Ruby didn't ask. "It's your grandmother's treasure to give, but I think she'd approve. Don't weigh yourself down with a ton of metal. It'll do more harm than good. That goes for you as well, Talon." With a grin, he dives in. He knows exactly what he's looking for, too. Dad wasn't always on the hoard, after all. When he comes back out of the hoard, he's got four different things: on his hoof, a boot made for war, burnished bronze, almost golden in color. It matches the armor that he's already wriggling himself into, light plates that cover his chest and his back, held together by finely worked chain. The shield, too, is a match, a small, light thing that fits snugly to his leg, offering a small bit of protection if you know how to use it. And he did. Because of playing catch the fire with Talon. And finally, a belt. Just a normal belt. Except it meant he could actually shift the boulders at the den's entrance on his own instead of needing help. Ladon puts away a few of the truly dangerous items himself—the things he dares not leave unattended even for a moment. The cursed artifacts, the dread amulets, and much to Ruby's disappointment, the goggles that give him laser eye beams. Overall though, Ladon can't help but show a note of pride, when he inspects his eldest son's selection, examining the gear Ruby has picked, and after a time, finds no cause to object. Talon, for his part, takes very little. Though his wings have come in, he's not yet comfortable flying under any weight, and so he takes only an enchanted helmet, and guards for his claws. "Very good, both of you,” Ladon says. "Take a moment to yourselves. Clean up, get ready. It may be some time before we are back. I should talk to Scale before we go. Come find me when it's time." Ladon rumbles away to speak at length with his youngest son, the three elders left to ready themselves. "This is so not fair," Viper grumbles, tossing a coin at the hoard angrily. "Shut up, dolt. It's not a contest," Talon says. "It's a big deal. It's dangerous." "Yeah, we already discussed it, remember? And seeing as the last time got me a fire ruby butt stamp, I don't wanna do it again. Besides," Ruby says, waving a hoof at the hoard. "You're not looking at the benefits." "Like getting to take care of Scale?" Viper grumbles. "Hey, maybe you'll get your own magical butt stamp. Did you think of that?" Talon chuckles as he ducks another thrown rock from Viper. Ruby Blaze rolls his eyes again. "Come on, Viper, put some thought into it. Dad's not gonna be here." He points at the hoard again. "Like, he's not gonna be here." "Yeah, but... he's taking all the cool toys with him..." "He's taking all the toys that would blow up the world with him. There's still plenty of cool stuff left," Talon says. "Yeah. Like the one that lets you fling ice around. Also, the ones that blow up the world aren't really that fun to play with," Ruby sas. Viper drums his claws reluctantly. "I mean... I guess." "Plus you'll only have to share the tasty gems two ways," Ruby says. "But... you guys'll be gone." "Relax. We'll be back in no time. I'll watch out for Ruby," Talon says. Ruby Blaze blows a raspberry. "More like I'll watch out for you." "Shut up, dink. I'm serious." Talon snorts smoke. "So am I," Ruby replies. And, just to make a point, snorts smoke as well. "Yeah, I know you are, and I know dad's bringing you and stuff, but—" Talon pauses, seeming to realize this argument will go nowhere. "Forget it. I'm going to neaten up and then get dad." "Alright." There's not much to clean up, in truth. Talon mostly just straightens his sleeping ledge and then gives their dad some time. Viper works his way up to the horde, looking downright nervous as he tries it out. Talon gives Ruby a few looks during this period, though he says nothing. And eventually, he wanders off to the other room, returning with their dad some time later. "Ruby." Ladon spreads his wings and shimmies down to the ground, the tough wing fabric forming a rough ramp. Ruby Blaze didn't have much to clean up, either. Get the loam bed contained again, fire the edges of the shelf, and a very, very light firing of his own self to take the place of a proper river bath. He hops onto the proffered wing, makes his way up to his dad's back, and takes a seat, just behind where Ladon's neck starts. "If we cannot be back soon, Viper, I shall have your great aunt contact you. Keep your brother safe." Ladon orders, and Viper nods. A moment later, Ladon spreads his wings, and a few great beats lift him off into the sky. Talon follows a moment later, his own wingbeats faster and lighter. And off they go into the floating islands and the chaos beyond. Ruby has no idea how his father and brother navigate this swirling mess. Ladon has told him it is an instinctive sense—a natural means of knowing the way. Ruby sometimes feels he's inherited this sense, for it often seems he can navigate the islands better than the chaos beasts or greycoats. But at other times like this, he is wholly lost, and must rely on his relatives to navigate. Talon isn't helping that feeling. Normally, when he and his father fly, Talon keeps ahead, showing how much he's grown by flying a few beats in front of his father. Now though, he lags behind, flying just behind and under Ladon's wing. Where he can keep a closer eye on Ruby from below. The journey is long, but largely uneventful—few creatures desire to mess with a fully grown wyrm. And eventually, Ruby spots something in the distance. A floating island that is much, much larger than the others, covered in a dark forest. "This is it," Ladon rumbles. "I'll try to fly above them, but keep careful. I don't know if they can fly or not as well." "Right,” Ruby says. "I've got your back, Dad." Talon snorts. "That was super lame.” "Now now. You're about to meet other ponies for the first time," Ladon chides, grinning a toothy grin. "You'll need to be ready to pun at a moment's notice." "Greycoats never pun," Ruby remarks. "That's because they've forgotten how to have fun." Talon rolls his eyes. "Ugh." As they draw closer, more details can be made out. A great, looming castle stands in the exact center of the island. A menacing mass of dark stone, gargoyles, bridges and twisty towers. Surrounding it, a camp can be seen, distant firelight in a rough circle around the castle. They're too high up to make out individual creatures, but they can distantly see the catapults and siege towers. Still, there's nothing in the air that they can observe, and it looks like this will be an easy approach. Then, on the wind, Ruby hears a voice. Masculine, rough. Scratchy. Clinking. Carried from far away. "The pony who controls the sun, Calls her child of tooth and scale, She thinks by fire, battle's won, But her fires both shall fail, Three have come now to her aid, Alas to fall now to a curse, Into the deer's trap they have strayed, A sudden spell—the world reversed!" Around them, suddenly, violently, the world whirls. Now, the floating island is above them, facing down, and under gravity's pull, objects are tumbling down towards them. Rocks, and arrows, and more. "Oh..." Talon manages, as the occasional stray projectiles multiply into a vast cloud, that seems to fill all available space. "Ruby, hang on, now!" Ladon roars. Ruby Blaze narrows his eyes and tightens his grip. Ladon twists in mid-air until he's upside down, his body shielding Ruby from the rain of steel and stone. "Talon, under me!" he orders, and Talon quickly obeys, the two brothers left side by side. Ladon tries to avoid the cloud, moving to where it is thinnest, but even Ruby can see that this is no mundane barrage. The projectiles multiply, twist through the air to follow their target. And some are not mere stones or arrows, but monsters, hurtling themselves at their prey. The arrows come first. They shatter harmlessly on contact with Ladon's diamond-hard scales, and from Ruby's position on his back, they sound more like hailstones than the noises of battle. Clanging, clinking, rapping on the hard surface. But then come the ballista bolts. Now, Ladon jerks with the impact, trying to dodge left and right, but grunting in pain every time he fails. For a moment, there's a break in the impacts, and Ruby dares to peek around to see what's coming. He sees a boulder. A boulder with two little gems in its surface that look oddly like eyes, and protrusions that resemble the strangest outstretched arms. Then the rock elemental hits. It's weight is enough to slam Ladon back against Ruby's head, dazing him and knocking him away. Ladon grabs it, and a mid air grapple starts, but every blow from it's hewn fists weakens Ruby's grip. One blow. Two. Three. His hooves slipping. And then he's in the air on his own. The most confusing part of this is whether or not he's falling away from the ground or towards it. He's not entirely sure. "Ruby!" Ladon shouts, reaching out for his son. But the the earth elemental headbutts him with such staggering force that Ruby feels the crack resonate through his torso. And the claw misses. Ruby isn't sure if he's falling up, or down, but he is definitely falling. Arrows and bolts and monsters and other things whizzing around him as the whistle of air in his ears grows to a roar. Up, down, anti-spinward—doesn't really matter. He twists himself around and spreads his legs, putting his full profile against the direction of the air rushing past. When first he fell, he was spinning out of control—tumbling through the air. But spreading his legs and increasing his profile steadies him, and lets him see what lies below. He is falling down. Into the forest below. There were exactly two options here: he would survive, or he wouldn't. Either way, he'd only find out when he actually hit. It's not the first time he's fallen from a height—though the other time it wasn't nearly so high and he'd jumped, but he remembers how the landing went. How he'd managed to stick the landing without hurting his legs. He leans forward, just a bit—enough to start moving forward instead of just down. And as the canopy nears, he shifts his legs in front of him, readying for impact. It seems, in his calculations, when he determined he would either survive or not survive, he made a slight error, but he neglected a third possibility. That he would survive, but it would really, really hurt. His hooves strike ground, and knees bend. The force pitches him forward, but that was the whole point. He hadn't expected to bounce. When he comes back down from the rebound, about ten feet from where he first hit the ground, he rolls instead of bouncing—legs tucked into his sides—and rolls right smack into a tree trunk. He should probably just… lie there for a bit. Until he can see again. Lying still for awhile. Yeah. That sounds good. Distantly, through the fog, he hears shouting. Growling. Talon's voice. "Come on, stupid!" Claws grabbing him. Wings beating. A cry of pain. Then he feels a bottle shoved into his mouth, the bitter potion within washing away some of that fog, leaving him awake—if still covered in bruises. "Murgh." He blinks, looking around. "Cut the flesh and break the bone, Of Celestia's lesser fire, His last free flight he has flown, By chaos now, lights his own pyre." The same scratchy voice as cursed them before. When Blaze comes to his senses, the first thing he sees is Talon standing guard over him, snapping and breathing fire at the wall of shadowy monsters that surrounds them. Something is wrong though. His pose is wrong. He's holding his wings too tightly. And then Ruby notices the jagged piece of glass sticking out of each of his wings joints. "I said GET UP stupid!" Talon lets out a blast of fire that lights up the whole of the night, briefly showing their attackers to be a horde of diamond dogs, so vast as to seem without number. He stares at his brother's wings for a moment, and then he's on his hooves, turning to face the horde. He can see that they've landed in the middle of the camp. The castle is just ahead of them, but so is the main body of the attacking army. "Ruby, listen. I'm going to throw you." Talon bats away an advancing dog with his spiked tail, but it's clear that the only thing stopping the horde from overwhelming them is the individual members desire not to be first. His head snaps around so fast it almost makes him dizzy. "No you're not. That'll leave you here all alone." "Just do what I say for once in your stupid life!" "I'm not going to leave you!" There's a whistle in the air. An off-key note. And from some unseen source in the shadows, comes another shard of glass. This one hits Talon in the knee, bringing him staggering towards the ground. "Aaagh!" "Hey!" Ruby shouts, and breathes in, chest expanding. He looses his own flame in the direction the glass shard came from. With every injury inflicted by their unseen ally, the horde of cowardly dogs comes closer. All are armed and armored with the crudest weapons, their ankles and wrists topped by crystalline restraints. They didn't seem to know Ruby could breathe fire though, and that surprise sends them scampering back. Buying time. "Ruby, I'm not asking! You're going now!" Talon reaches down to grab his little brother with his good talon, pressing his size advantage. He's not quite big enough to pick up a pony with ease, but he's not the little drake Ruby used to be able to wrestle either. "Wha- hey, stop!" As soon as the horde sees Talon too distracted to fight, they all rush forward. And Talon throws. Ruby only has time to loose another blast of flame, aimed at the approaching dogs. Ruby flies through the air for the second time today, and for the second time he's sent spinning. He doesn't see where his blast of flame lands, though he thinks he hit his target. All he can sense is the rush of air around him, and a few moments later, his impact on water. He landed in one of the pools that supplies the castle moat, a few hundred yards from the camp. And already, the dogs are rushing after him. Muttering imprecations at his stupid brother, though not out loud, because water, he strikes out for shore. By the time he reaches the opposite shore, he's closer to the castle than the camp, and the dogs seem ill-inclined to put themselves in reach of those battlements. Back from whence he came, he can't see any trace of his brother or the fight. It's all the same blur of wood and barking dogs and firelight. Ahead of him, at the end of a long, twisting trail, stands the castle gates. For a long moment, he stands there, facing the dogs, the camp, the wood—looking for any sign of his brother, or his father. But there are none. And much as he WANTS to charge the camp, to set the whole thing ablaze and let the fire sweep away everything that isn't his family, he knows that's not what would happen. So instead, he narrows his eyes. "Hey, you rhyming glass-throwing coward! I figure if you can talk from nowhere, you can hear from where your worthless butt is hiding! "So hear this! I'm going to find you, and when I do, I'm going to make you eat your own glass." And then he turns up the trail. It is a long walk, up to the grand castle gates. From the dogs reluctance to come this far, he can only assume the battlements are crewed, but he sees nopony there. To all exterior inspection, the castle is abandoned. And yet, when he approaches its gates, they open. And before him stands the pony with a mane made of stars, the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn. A strange expression upon her face. "Your father," she greets him, "yet lives. As does your brother. But neither are here. More than that though, I cannot say." Ruby blinks a few times. His vision had gotten blurry on the way up. After a pause, she adds: "You are injured... nephew. Please, come with me." "Alright." Behind them, as they walk inside, the doors shut. Introductions: Drawn Masquerade Drawn Masquerade Character: Drawn Masquerade Player Name: Matt Race: Unicorn Stallion Class: Wizard (Shadow Illusionist) 5 Role: Trickery, Face Special Note: The shadow illusionist progression allows Dawn to make illusions that feel solid—and even have a little weigh to them. Drawn opens his eyes. Probably, he thinks sluggishly.... Assumptions like that are how mistakes get made, after all. All he can really state with confidence is that he perceives himself to have opened his eyes. More than that, he cannot be certain of. Through rigorous examination of past data, as well as the general traits of chaos and illusion magic, he can determine that is likely his eyes are actually open. But that's just the most likely outcome. Still, in lieu of additional evidence, it seems he'll have to proceed with that assumption. Today, after all, is a big day. He can't get too stalled up by the little things. Today is the day he saves the world. Drawn Masquerade looks around in his newly determined "open eyes" state He's in one of his workshops. The latest one. Whatever changes have occurred when he wasn't observing it—and according to his current understanding of chaos magic, any non-observation of a room induces at least some changes—are not visually obvious. It appears just as he left it last night. It's made from the remains of some pony's house. They weren't around, not even as a greycoat, and he needed space to complete his studies. It sufficed. Drawn Masquerade gingerly steps out of bed, waits a few moments… and breathes a sigh as the floor continues to exist. Maybe those calculations were wrong and the instability would be two steps to the left actually… Well… no matter. He goes to the workbench stepping around the mushroom field, tame miniature elephant ranch and the pegasus landing ramp that made up his bedroom. The light was so bright today.... He sighs as he scans his calculations again. No, that's right. The whole house was going to move soon. Regrettably so. He'll have to move quickly. The room continues to exist in a meaningful way—at least as far as he perceives it—while he sets about his morning routine. Washing up, feeding the tiny elephants, acknowledging the constitutional legitimacy of the mushrooms’ breakaway republic. It's almost a routine by now. A fact which, while seemingly minor, is ultimately what lead him here. After all, all things exist within chaos. Therefore, the odds of finding any one thing by random chance are functionally zero. And yet he found his house. From that, one can conclude that his motions are not random. That his natural magic gives him some ability to move himself to a specific point. Or to move points towards him. And since all things exist within this swirling mess that was once reality, that should make it possible for him to call any object to himself. Any creature. To make the things he perceives real. Realish. To search through all the world, for whatever it is will set the world right. Precisely what that thing is is up to him. But that shouldn't matter too much. In theory. Drawn Masquerade begins to pack up again. How many times was that now? Four, twelve, sixty eight? It was so hard to keep track. His spellbook and rod went quickly into his mostly prepared satchel which he slung over his shoulder. Never know when you need to leave in a hurry when the continuum catches up to you. Where to next...? Well, his attempts to summon a useful building that could provide shelter were successful. Perhaps his next attempt should be more ambitious. Drawn hasn't found a theoretical limit on this ability yet. Save his own powers of concentration. But those should suffice to set the world right. If he summons the right thing. Creates the right thing. Perhaps an artifact of harmony and order. Or a pony who knows more than him. Or a book, full of the knowledge he needs to fix things. Drawn Masquerade sighs… routine was nice but it wasn't going to get him anywhere… time to try something else. He tugs on the fabric of the maybe-never-was and the could-have been to try and directly pull himself to the center of a calm place. Maybe he would get lucky. Or maybe another bottomless pit. A calm place. That's a tricky illusion. He can't make anything vanish after all, and the swirling world around him is anything but calm. But he should be able to conjure some obstructing objects. Like... a stone floor! That's a good start. And walls. And a ceiling. Drawn Masquerade looks around at the new home… seventeen, no wait, four walls! That is a promising start! A ceiling, good good… And a Floor! This was going to be good! Not even a single spacial anomaly either! Well… except for that high ceiling and those thrones… those were certainly odd. Drawn Masquerade scans around for a moment before nodding.., Yes this will do. Now… for the real trick… Calm in chaos to make the chaos come in and stay still for a moment. He closes his eyes. Maybe. Time for this to get interesting. It's a tricky thing. He can't calm the chaos directly, only draw it in. Fool it into an orderly shape. Maybe that's why this is all part of the illusion school instead of conjuration. That's a question for him to sort out another time though. For now, his eyes shut, he takes a breath. And gradually, he begins to feel cold stone under his hooves. "Ah! Master Drawn, so good to see you again," says a mare he has never heard before. Oh! Drawn Masquerade opens his eyes! Maybe. When he opens his eyes, the hall around him is populated. A mare with a blue coat and a shimmering starlit mane sits upon one of the thrones. She has the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus, spread wide behind her, and around him, the hall is filled with soldiers. Strange soldiers they are, appearing as mares made of shadow, without cutie marks and clad in silver armor. But there they are. Drawn Masquerade stares intently at the figures in front of him. "There is a 72% chance that you are not in fact real. Or… that you are unreal. Or maybe real. Are you in fact, maybe potentially unreal in a very real way?" "I'd forgotten your clever little word games," the creature upon the throne says, in a somewhat fond manner. "I fear that we may not have time to indulge in them now however. Though if I had to guess..." Princess Luna mulls it over a moment. "I suppose I would say I am exactly as real as you are." "Well you are ruining my calm place,” he says. :If you could kindly please go elsewhere to be as real as you wish I would be most appreciative." Drawn Masquerade catches up to the conversation. "Erm… do you know me? Or do I know you? Or are you me and therefore do I know myself? Hmmm… well… to assume you are real would mean to accept that you are an alicorn. To accept that would mean that… my word… you are a Princess!” "Maybe," he adds. Princess Luna laughs. It's not exactly a cheerful sound, but there is warmth in it. Familiarity. "Master Drawn, there are times when I am uncertain if you are brilliant or simply creatively addled. But I think," she replies, as she descends from the throne. "Therefore I am. And I think that I am glad to have you here, in this more dire hour." "Come, I will show you the battlements. There is much we should discuss." Drawn Masquerade follows Luna curiously. "Where am I? And why isn't the chaos seeping in? It should be here by now… calm never really lasts anymore.” As the two of them walk, Drawn catches strange things in the corner of his eyes. It's the guards silver armor. Whenever he walks past them, something flashes in it—a reflection that shouldn't be there, for it reflects nothing in the room. But quick as it comes, it's gone. "You are in the Everfree Forest,” Princess Luna answers, “and it is by my sister's will that the chaos holds no sway here. Under her direction, we found a number of powerful artifacts—the Elements of Harmony—and with them, vanquished Discord, the spirit of chaos behind this perversion. We were able to restore the forest to order as well, but before we could proceed any further... well." Princess Luna pushes a door open and the two step out into the battlements. In the dark forest beyond, a vast army can be seen gathering, preparing to lay siege to the castle. "There were other developments." "Oh dear,” Drawn says. “That is… many many ponies. This is NOT a calm place indeed! Why were you happy to have me here? This is… much more than I could even hope to twist away." "They are not just ponies, but an assortment of other creatures as well: diamond dogs, trolls, minotaurs, and most importantly, the Deer, a strange race from a distant land. They were the greatest surprise, and I shall have to tell you more of them soon. But for now, my sister and I need all the help we can get. Even if the odds seem impossible." "Well I suppose I could try and help… I was planning on saving the world today anyway. Is that the plan?" "Yes, Master Drawn." Princess Luna gives a sad sigh, though there's a faint smile in it. "That is the plan." "Then I accept. Maybe," Drawn answers. "Of course, then please—" "—come with me," says Princess Celestia. Now it is a white wing that turns to lead him into a castle of bright stone. The torches that crackled moments ago extinguished—unnecessary in the brilliant light of the day. Drawn isn't blinded. There's no flash. Not even any sense of disorientation, though he shies back instinctively It is as though he simply lost his train of thought, and now it is a larger, white-coated mare who leads him, her body adorned by a golden necklace, hoof boots, and a crown. Princess Celestia pauses, when she realizes she isn't being followed. Drawn Masquerade cracks an eye and looks around. "Why, Drawn," she asks, frowning. "What's wrong?" "Hmmm..." He begins walking again. Keeping an eye on the shining white mare, he peers intently around in the shining light noting the different decorations, architecture and especially the new mare in front of him. "So… saving the world then?" he prompts the mare cautiously. "Of course," she says, though her frown reveals that she can tell something is wrong. Her golden necklace sparkles in the light, and when he glances at it, he can see something reflected in it. Something that is not in the room. Drawn Masquerade peers closer at the reflection. Princess Celestia pulls back, as he abruptly leans in closer. "Drawn, what's the matter?" she asks more directly. In the shine of the gold, he can see… A face. Part of one, anyway. The reflective surface isn't very big. "Your necklace and her guards' armor… It’s...an eye! A tree? No...But. Yes? An eye and a branch....not a branch....a bone? A finger? A tooth? No..." Drawn mumbles still moving closer heedless of Celestia's retreat, "A horn....." "Drawn, what are you talking about?" Princess Celestia applies a firm hoof, shoving him back before he can see more. Drawn Masquerade snaps back into focus. "Sorry your highness. You were saying. I get distracted and wander sometimes… What was it you were saying again? I find myself strangely invigorated by all this walking and talking. I don't get to have a vacation like this often." Princess Celestia frowns. "I was saying, you're the first to arrive." She guides him into the castle, which is now empty. Not a guard in sight. "Luna and I have managed to hold them off so far, but I am not certain how long that will last. Anything you could do to create the illusion of strength on our walls might buy time." "I can easily create a show of strength. How long must it last? Relatively speaking?" "Until more help arrives. How long that will be, I cannot say." Drawn Masquerade sighs. "I was hoping you could. If you had, I could know you were not real… Ahh well! To be unsure again is so… dangerous. That might be useful for a while." "Drawn... are you entirely well?" Princess Celestia asks, that frown returning. "Perhaps you could take some time to rest and let me examine you." "I have rested the rest and need rest only when the rest might rest as well. And well, I may be well but it well may be that well is not all that may be well with well. I suppose that you are indeed right though and I may not be entire...." "...Drawn. Here." Princess Celestia guides him towards one of the abandoned tables in the room. "Lie down a moment." Drawn Masquerade allows himself to be led while in thought and absently lies down on the table. Princess Celestia helps Drawn up to the table, where she is able to lay him out, inspecting him with her hooves and with occasional spells from her horn. As she stands over him, her chest is brought close to his face, and her necklace along with it. Closer now. There is an eye in it. A single wide, staring eye that never blinks. And a face, long and drawn out. And antlers. Antlers that twist through the filigree of the necklace, and through the ripples in her coat, and out into the room. Whatever it is, it's watching him. Looking right at Drawn. He Vanishes. Celestia jumps back when Drawn abruptly vanishes from sight. At once, she waves her hoof through the space where he stands—but her hoof passes through him without impact. "White princess… I think I prefer the blacker one of you," he says as he tries to exert himself and pull the black mare here. His horn glows. The world shifts. And Celestia's expression of alarm is replaced by Luna's oft-tried though amused expression. Back Drawn is in the dark hall, with the shadow-mare guards, and the crackling torches on the walls. "As you wish, Master," Luna says. "But when you're done with your little vanishing act, I should introduce you to the others." "Ahh! Luna I believe? I am eager to meet them," he says, ending the vanish spell. "Your… sister I presume? Why was she here a moment ago? Or was that unreal?" When he reappears, he can still see the eye and the face, now reflected in Luna's gorget. "My sister is in the castle," Luna replies. "But she is not here now. Come, this way." "She was a moment ago..." he mutters as he follows her out. Chaosberries this was going to take so much calculation… "Princess Luna… just a thought though… you may want to get that eye to stop watching me… it is making me nervous. I am rather good at the nervous part but that seems all too unreal for my tastes..." Princess Luna looks where Drawn indicates, and then she chuckles. "I've seen you inhabit enough images to know that it is the enemy who should be nervous of your reflection, Master Drawn. After all," she says, "You are the great illusionist." "You are the shadow behind the screen," adds one of her guards, "You are the comedy on the grand stage," adds a third. "You are the Deer," says Luna, "Who Went Mad." Then, as though she had no notice of just how unusual that conversation was, she gestures on. “Inhabiting an image… hmmm sounds intriguing… makes sense… I think I lost that one with the last spellb...." "Come, we've saved several other ponies from the wood. I will show you." Drawn Masquerade tilts his head… and follows Luna in silent thought Introductions: Thunder Struck Thunder Struck Character: Thunder Struck Player Name: Warmblood Race: Unicorn Mare (previously pegasus) Class: Sorcerer 5 Role: Blaster (electricity) Thunder Stuck opens her eyes. She received Luna's message. Loud and clear. World in peril, Discord, a castle under siege, come help. She got it all. Every word. She can even understand it better than most ponies, since she was struck by the Spirit of Chaos in person. A snap of an eagle's claw and a clap of a lion’s paw, and she had no wings, and was left tumbling from the sky. She discovered her horn and rediscovered her special talent on the way down, a thunderous blast of magic saving her from being reduced to a smear on the hard earth. And so, she's alive to receive Luna's message. To hear the cry for help, clear as a bell. For all that will matter. The floating island she landed on is about thirty feet across. When she landed, it was a field. Small, but dense with grass. She's long since eaten all the grass though, and when her eyes open, all she sees is the dust. Her body feels weak, her lips dry and cracked. The island didn't have any water to begin with. There was some in the grass, and food as well, but that was soon gone. And once it was gone… She can see other floating islands in the distance. But they're all too far away to leap. Hundreds of yards at the shortest distance. There are others below her she could fall too, but that would absolutely be a terminal drop. And so she's waited. Until today, she can wait no longer. Luna's message is as good an incentive as any to get up. But it's not her real motivation. The sky. Clouds hang above... and sometimes below. So far away. So inaccessible. Once it seemed so easy. It seemed like she was so free. That was when she still had her wings. She rolls over. The dust is warm on her side, baked under the sun. Her white coat protects her from the worst of it, but not all by a longshot. Her thoughts eventually turn to her situation. She can feel a pang of hunger and thirst. It forces her up and to her hooves. If she jumped off the side of her island, what would happen? Without wings, the fall would kill her. If she used her power... it might well kill her. It was so hard to control, unruly, like a storm. Yet something had to be done. One of the islands below her has a lake. It's her best bet. She's heard that hitting water beyond a certain speed might as well be hitting land, for all the difference it makes. Plus the danger of drowning. But its an island that will keep her alive if she makes it. She walks up to the side. Takes a breath. Braces. "You know, far be it from me to question your judgement, but that seems like a terrible waste of Equine life," says a refined, distinguished voice to Thunder's left. Thunder Struck squeaks and jumps back from the edge. "Though it is a noble and worthwhile act, and a profound statement to the value of that life," says the same voice, but this time to her right. Leaping back from the edge and reflexively looking left, she finds herself facing a strange creature. It is like a pony, but too slender in the frame, and too long in the legs, with wide eyes and a drawn face and cloven hooves. Thunder Struck eyes this creature nervously, ears down, tail flagging. She—for it seems to be a she—bows its head. Thunder Struck doesn't see the other one. "I do understand that scarcity of one particular liquid is the, shall we say, motivating resource behind this particular act," one of her long ears twitches, an otherworldly shimmer in her eye. "But if water is what you require, I should be happy to give it to you." "Though," says a voice, that is now directly behind Thunder Struck. "I shall also have to take it from you." "W-Who are you?" Thunder asks. Her voice is a fairly delicate thing, her uncertainty and nervousness quite transparent. "Mm, a tricky question," the one in front says after a moment. "Naturally, that would depend upon my characteristics and traits. For instance, I am the doe that is in two places at once." "I am the creature that gives and takes in equal measure," says the voice behind her. "I am the destiny that waits where you flee from me," says the one in front. "The destiny?" Thunder asks. "So I suppose, all things considered, I must be the Deer Who Saw Her Own Reflection," says the voice behind. "Yes sweetie, the destiny," the one in front says. "But please, call me Imago." “Imago..." She mouths. "I've never heard a name like that before." "It is a deer name. It means mirror. We're a terribly literal race, you see," says the one in front. "Though given to flights of poetic fancy and metaphor," adds the voice behind Thunder Struck. "That's... nice." "Is it? I am uncertain," Imago says, after a moment. "Well no matter. Water, then?" Thunder Struck thinks for a moment. Her lips are parched. But does she trust this strange creature? Does she have a choice? "I guess, yes, I could use some water. And if you know a way off this island..." "As it happens, I have both," says the one in front. "Though strictly speaking, I have neither," says the one in back. "But first, I should fetch you that water," says the one in front. "And take it from you," says the one in back. "Behold!" A gesture of a long, slender hoof guides Thunder Struck's eyes to the island below, where earlier she was planning to jump. The lake there vanishes—gurgling away like a tub with the drain pulled. A moment later, thunder cracks in the sky overhead, and Thunder Struck looks up just in time to see dark rainclouds appear overhead. At once, they fall open, rain pouring down upon the dusty island and turning the dirt to mud, filling the slightest depression or bump with water. Thunder Struck looks simultaneously grateful and dismayed. She eyes the cloud with a hint of nervousness, but leans down to drink from a small puddle nonetheless. She is not too proud to drink from the earth. The water is full of dirt and particles, but nothing has ever tasted so sweet. A thirst such as this she has never known, and she soon has to pace herself before she makes herself sick, water passing over cracked and dusty lips. Soon, she is feeling all-together better—if still a bit lightheaded—and the storm around her has started to abate. “Ah," she says, licking her lips. "Thank you, Imago." The deer—for she sees only one at a time, though she hears two voices—seems content to wait, rivers of water and mud alike running around its hooves to tumble off the edge of the island. "It was my pleasure," she says taking a bow. A moment later, the echo of her voice directly behind Thunder Struck adds, "Though I was rather annoyed with how long you made me wait." "Let us turn then, to the matter of your escape from this island." "I think... I think I need to go somewhere," Thunder says uncertainly. "Yes,” says Imago. “Luna's army." "Green trees. A castle." Thunder Struck stops to think. "Yes. I remember now." "A curious mare that. Clever without a doubt," says the one in front. "I find her more needlessly obtuse," says the one in back. "Still, there are three things you will require if you are to reach her." "Your freedom. The power to find your way. And safe passage." "All three of these things I can give you," says Imago, and a moment later the one behind adds: "And all I ask in return is to take them from you." Thunder Struck blinks. "Do I have a choice?" "You always have a choice," the one in front replies, with a smirk. "Though it may not be much of a choice at all," says the one in back. "I mean, I do want those things. But..." Thunder Struck looks towards the ground. "I just want to be left alone. I'm not sure you would understand." "Then please, enlighten me." Thunder Struck takes a deep breath. Somehow despite the fact she's talking to a deer she keeps calm and collected. "I'm not a unicorn. Or, well, I wasn't. I remember. Now, I'm not sure what I am, but I know I might hurt ponies." She sighs. "Besides, there is so much wrong with this world, but what can I do about it?" "I understand more than you might realize, little pony," says the one in front. "This is not the first time I have heard that litany." "Nor the first time the litany's speaker has heard me." "There is much you can do, to change the ways of this world. Such was shown you this very night, in fact." "If my sources are to be trusted." Thunder Struck doesn't look convinced. "If you say so." She considers for another moment. "Alright. I guess I'll go with you, if you can get us out of this place." "Then I shall give you your freedom," says the one in front. "And I shall take the same," says the one in back. As Imago speaks, a pair of elegant shackles appear around Thunder Struck's ankles. They're very much like the restraints one might wear in a dungeon, except that nothing is hooked up to the spot where the chain goes, and a beautiful set of wings is etched clearly onto each side. "The power to find your way," says the one in front. "Paid for with itself," says the one in back. A matching set of restraints appears on Thunder Struck's rear ankles, though again, they are hooked to nothing. "And the power of safe passage," says the one in front. "Lacking only its mirror image," says the one in back. The set of restraints is complete now with a horn guard—though lacking the part that actually impairs unicorn magic, it resembles a fancy circlet more than anything else. Thunder Struck looks nonplussed at this new jewelry. "And you may, in that spirit, go in peace." Imago gestures Thunder Struck off the side of the island. "Fly, little pony." Thunder Struck steps up to the edge. Out of instinct she tries to flex her wings, but they are gone. None of those wing muscles even remain. She takes a deep breath, and another, and another. Then, finally, she leaps over the edge. She tumbles. Twists. Hurtles through the sky to her certain doom. The wind around her rises from a whisper to a roar, and flailing her legs does nothing to arrest her motions. Her memories flash back to her first fall. She whizzes past one island, then another, until finally one rushes into her sight. She braces for impact—and then plows into the ground like a stone from a catapult. A moment later, she is very puzzled to be alive. Thunder Struck feels the hair of her mane bristling with electric power. No! No! Checking over her body, she realizes she isn't hurt. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The feeling of power fades away. The island she's landed on isn't any less isolated than her previous—a small patch of forest, with part of somepony's woodpile at the edge—but now, there are more islands she can reach. Chunks of land below her she can jump to. There's no sign of her... benefactor. Whoever that was. "Okay Thunder, you're alive." She mutters to herself. "Some weird deer talked to us, and now... now we need to find Luna." She gets up to explore her new island, and those below. A long running leap—and another deep crater—brings her to an island that holds the remains of somepony's house. The owner is not in residence, but it gives Thunder a chance to find some hay and fresher water. Then it's another leap, this one more graceful, to another island below. Leap after leap, she gradually gets the hang of it, working her way down through the clusters of floating earth. Once she gets the hang of it, she can ever land running, hopping from place to place in long and graceful arcs. "Okay. This isn't so bad. Not like flying, but..." But she can find her way. It's even kind of fun! Until she hears a scream, and far below her, sees a long string of islands—forming a path stretching off through the distance. And on them, there is a group of ponies, being pursued by a pack of… Some sort of four-legged predator. Too small to be a pony. But he can see the way it moves. Like wolves, but bigger! Nipping at the heels of the poor ponies as they flee. "How terrible! Those poor ponies…" She feels nervous, a tightness forming in her chest. She's scared, but she can't just stand back and let these ponies be run down like rabbits. "Maybe we can scare them away..." She says to herself as her legs start to move. She takes a running leap, and then she’s sailing through the air. Below her, she can still hear the ponies screaming—one of them trying and failing to beat the predators back with... some kind of club? It’s hard to see from this distance, but it looks like she's going to land right in the middle of it all! The strip of earth rushes up, she braces for impact— And ponies and predators alike leap back, as an unguided projectile makes a brand new crater in the middle of their battlefield. As the dust hangs in the air, a small voice calls out. "Hey! You big meanies, leave these ponies alone!" When the dust clears, Thunder Struck finds herself facing the predators. Four creatures that seem like nothing so much as wolves made out of twigs and brambles, animated by some strange magic, a burning light in their eyes. "Go away!" Thunder calls out. Inside, something is rising, straining to break free… But the wolves aren't listening. As a pack, they tense up. Leap— A roar erupts from Thunder Struck's throat. The other ponies avert their eyes as a flash of bright blue light engulfs the unicorn and the four wolves. Lightning shoots out, arcing to grass and rock, singing and burning whatever it touches. A peal of thunder cuts across the island. The smell of ozone fills the ponies noses, shortly followed by the smell of something burning. When the smoke clears, the wolves have disappeared, a few bits of burning twigs rain down onto the islands. Turning around, Thunder Struck sees a group of ponies behind her. Two stallions, just about shaking with fear, and one mare armed with a baguette—that would be the club from earlier. All are unicorns. "...h-hi," the mare says. After a moment, one of the stallions adds: "Thanks." "Oh. Um... you're welcome." Thunder Struck looks down, the rush of power fading now. "Are you all okay?" "Fine," says the mare. 'Yah, we're good," adds one of the stallions. The other just nods. "Are you a wizard?" "I... I guess," Thunder mumbles. She doesn't mention this is the first time she's ever talked to a unicorn. "Oh, that's wonderful!" the mare says, and soon, all three are by Thunder Struck's side. "We lost our only wizard over a week ago. We were on our way to Luna's castle, when we were ambushed by these horrible creatures. Poor Flash Point stayed behind to hold them off while we... well." Thunder Struck was shying away, but she perks up at mention of Luna's castle. "You're going to Luna's castle? So am I!" "I'm Banana Bread," says the one with the bread. "I'm a baker," she adds, a bit redundantly. "These two are Hoof Strike and Tail Shake. Will you uh... let us travel with you?" she asks, so hopeful and worried. "Nice to meet you all." Thunder Struck doesn't sound quite comfortable, but she puts on a valiant effort to relax in their company. "Of course." And so, the group sets off. Down the long path. Through the twisting sky. Into the darkened wood. Several times along the way, they encounter more creatures—stray packs of Timber Wolves or Diamond Dogs. Each time though, Thunder Struck summons that power to her horn, and with a flash of light and the stench of ozone, they are no more. Her three companions are quick to hide behind her when danger threatens, not being the adventurous types themselves. The one contribution they make to the journey—aside from their company—comes when the group reaches the edge of the forest. There, they do as Luna commanded them in their dream: break a loaf of bread in half, and leave a trail of crumbs. When the bread is gone, turn and follow the trail back the way you came. It seems madness, but the three trust Luna implicitly, and the Moon Princess proves true to her word. The crumb trail leads not back to where they started, but somehow deeper into the woods. The four emerge inside the perimeter of the circling camp, just outside the massive front gates. "You're the wizard," one of them says nervously. "You should knock." "Um... okay." Thunder walks slowly towards the gate, stepping softly as though she expects the ground to disappear below her feet at any step. But it doesn't, and she reaches the grand double doors. Knocking once. Then again. Slowly they open, and there is a pony on the other side. With a starry mane, and a horn, and wings. "Come in," she says. "Quickly."
Introductions: Little Seed Little Seed Character Name: Little Seed Player Name: A Dragon Dreaming Race: Earth Pony Class: Commoner 5 Role: Unrealized Potential Little Seed opens his eyes. Normally, he's a prompt riser, but today he lingers in bed. Exactly why he does this he couldn’t say, but something about the day feels different. Like there's something he's supposed to be doing—something very important. Nothing comes to mind no matter how much he thinks about it, but the feeling is persistent enough to give him pause, and delay him awhile beneath the sheets. Lying there even feels restful, which is itself strange. Normally, Little Seed avoids bed as much as he can. It's awkward, being the center of the universe. Little Seed's bed doesn't hover, or float. It simply is the center of the cosmos, and around it spins all the earth and heavens. Three suns and five moons whirl about him like out of control billiard balls, smacking into each other and launching into new, erratic courses. Between them can be seen the multi-hued sky, a background of blue and red and green and pink, in which float the tiny dots Little Seed knows are mostly land. His mother found it all so breathtaking, but Little Seed just finds it unpleasant. He grew up with it, and tuning it all out is second nature now. Except today, for some reason. That nagging feeling. Eventually, it is time to get up. Little Seed swings a hoof out from over the edge of the bed, and when he puts it down, time and space seem to stretch out to the infinite horizon. Suddenly, there's a floor under his hooves. Dusty, dry, dirty wood, part of his little cabin house, on his little plot of dry land. That's good. It's not always his house he ends up inside. That gives him more time to see to his chores. He has to adjust the shades over his plants, and sweep the house, and fetch more water. He yawns, and shakes himself out, stepping hoof over hoof to the shuttered window. Hopefully the plants were still mostly there, and hadn't gotten up and hidden themselves while he slept. Little Seed gently nudges the shutter open. When Little Seed swings a hoof down off the edge of the bed, time and space seem to stretch out to the infinite horizon. Suddenly, there's a floor under his hooves. Dusty, dry, dirty wood, part of his little cabin house, on his little plot of dry land. He's so used to it by now that the thought of stepping out into empty space doesn't frighten him, like it did when he was a foal. The ground will appear. Or it won't. Either way, nudging the shutter open lets the light back in, along with a current of hot, dusty air. Out to the edge of his floating chunk of earth is his garden, and it seems that none of his plants have run off while he was sleeping. That's good. They've been doing that a lot less, since he made his sun-screens. His mother taught him that plants need periods of darkness as well as water to survive, but both things are hard to come by here. Now that the plans can have regular shade and water, they tend to stick around. That feeling of having forgotten something very important sticks with him, but there's not much time to ruminate on it. He needs to adjust the shades, sweep up, and fetch more water before the plants get feisty. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth—he could use the water too. But first, the shades. He turns for the door, and, yawning, steps outside. Outside, the three suns beat down as they always do, their erratic motions making little difference to the amount of light the world receives. In the center of the vast chaos now floats a tiny chunk of land—a flying island of dust and dirt, on which rests the home of a single pony, and his scrubby little garden. Little Seed finds the cloth and scrapwood shades he's made to protect his plants to be in good order, as are the rest of his tools. He fetches water every day from up the road, and adjusts his shades regularly, but still the garden is sickly. Probably because he doesn't know how long a 'day' is exactly. In his world, a day starts when he wakes up and ends when he sleeps, but he knows that didn't used to be the definition. The plants must still want an old-length day. Whatever that is. Adjusting the shades takes a little while. Sweeping out the house a little while longer. That strange feeling persists, but at least it doesn't get any worse. Eventually though, all the other chores are done. Now the plants need water. Time to head into town. He slips into his simple harness, two hefty, stoppered jugs slung to his sides, and heads up the road. The road is just two pegs on the edge of his island, marking the start of a dirt trail. His mother told him that once, that was the start of the actual road into town. It seems that the ground remembers that as well, because when Little Seed sets hoof on the path and steps off into space, a chunk of earth rushing out of eternity to appear under his hooves. It's only a few paces across, but the trail runs right down the middle, and as he follows it, more earth appears to create a winding path through the sky. Clouds filled with rainwater sometimes circle past him, adorned by sleeping grey pegasai—but they never rain. He's only ever heard stories about rain. The pegasai keep all the weather to themselves, and never share. Grey ponies are like that. He'll have to pass by a few grey ponies to get his water, and that's always unpleasant, but the ground-bound ones can at least be reasoned with. First up along the road is the old Turnip farm. There's no water here either, but old lady Turnip Stew never misses a chance to pelt him with her rock-hard produce whenever he passes, pretending that she's trying to feed him. He actually could use the food, so it's something he's put up with prior to now, the farm rising up out of the depths along his little stone trail. No mocking greeting or barrage of turnips greets him this time though. Instead, when the floating island that holds most of her front yard and her white-picket fence rises into view, Turnip Stew is leaning on the fence with a confused look about her. Her coat, normally grey, is now a soft pinkish white, and her mane is a light green. "Oh... hello there, Little Seed," she calls to him. Waving a hoof at him uncertainly. Little Seed blinks, then blinks, then blinks again. She was not grey. The last time he had met a pony who was not grey...when had that been? His mother. But he hasn't seen her in a long time. She just wasn't there one day. He swiftly gave up trying to reckon that. Impossible when there was no firm "day," in any case. "Ma'am," he says, dipping his head. "You're looking colorful!" "Am I?" she asks, pausing to examine herself. "It's the oddest thing. Do you ever wake up and feel like things are different, but you can't say why?" "I...well, yes,” he says. “Just now, actually. I think it's the first time." "Me as well," she says, reaching up to tilt her old straw hat back on her head. "I had the strangest dreams. There was this blue mare. Or maybe she was black. And she needed me to do something very important. And when I woke up, gosh-darn it if everything didn't seem all strange. These are my proper colors, but I do feel like I'm all colorful all of a sudden." She frowns, her expression confused. Ah...hm. Little Seed takes a moment to look at himself. He's the same colors he's always been. Right? Tan coat, brown mane and tail. A seedling bursting from a rock on his flanks. His head does feel particularly fuzzy today though. And he does recall... something about a mare. Something very urgent. But it's just outside his grasp. "That is very strange," he muses. "I seem to recall...something about a mare, but beyond that ..." "Yeah," Turnip Stew agrees. "One of those days." A frown crosses her features again, and she shakes her head. "Well, mind if I join you if'n yer headed to the well? It's the strangest thing, but my garden's dry as a bone this morning." She slides her own pair of water jugs over her back, made from an old set of saddlebags and two buckets. "Not at all, ma'am," he says with a smile. "A little company will be a pleasant change of pace." She trots out her front gate to the road, and the two of them end up side by side walking into town. The next stop along the way is Snare Trap. He was the game warden back when there was a forest to... ward? But now he just sets traps on the road for random ponies. Little Seed isn't sure how he even feeds himself, but it never seems to be an issue. Just another unpleasant encounter he has to face every day. Today though, there are no traps, and just like Turnip Stew, Little Seed finds him sitting on his porch, many disassembled traps in front of him. "Careful there!" he calls, a brown earth pony with a lighter green mane. "There's a snare in that bush by the road." "Thanks fer the warning," Turnip Stew answers. "How've you been, Snare?" "Odd," he answers, looking between the two. "Is anything off today with you two?" "Do you happen to be feeling particularly colorful today?" Little Seed asks. "Now that you mention it, I do," Snare says, looking back at his cutie mark. A snare and a flowering tree. He soon looks back at the others, squinting at them through the heat and the dust. "It's been a strange couple of..." He pauses. "It's been a strange while. Can't quite account for what I've been up too lately. It's all a haze," he continues, frowning. "And there was this mare. I think she was a pegasus. There was something she needed me to do." "That sounds like the dream you had, Turnip,” says Little Seed. "It does," Turnip Stew says, thoughtfully. "I thought she was an earth pony though." “No, she was definitely a pegasus,” Snare Trap affirms. Little Seed vaguely recalls something about a horn. And sparkles in her mane? Like glitter? “Well, now that's odd,” he says, “because now that I think about it, I think she had a horn." "You had the same dream?" Snare Trap asks. "Well, that isn't exactly normal now is it? Anypony else have the same dream?" "Couldn't say for certain,” Little Seed replies. “You're the first two I've met since I woke up this...er...earlier." "Funny that." Snare Trap takes a breath, and then shakes himself off. "Well, you two mind if I follow you? Not like I've got much else to do." "More the merrier," Turnip Stew answers. Little Seed nods his head in assent. "Took the words from my own mouth, Turnip." That earns a smile. Not an expression he's seen on her face before. The next several stops into town go the same way. A formerly grey pony has their colors, and is in some state of confusion, recalling only that they have to do something very important, and that it somehow relates to a mare. Who was blue! Or maybe black. And a pegasus. Or a unicorn. Or an earth pony. And she was definitely very tall. Or short. Or a giant. With sparkles in her mane. Unless that was her jewelry. Not every grey pony Little Seed knew is changed—Tell Apple is still grey, and still shouts at them to get off her apple farm, shooting arrows at their ankles to hurry them along. But, with every encounter, his little herd grows, and when they finally reach the well in the center of town, he sees there's a large mob of colorful ponies gathered there. All babbling to each other at once. "The town certainly is lively, for once," Little Seed asides to Turnip. "A bit chaotic." "A... bit," she agrees, looking over to Little Seed as their group starts to spread out into the crowd. "Come on, I want to hear what ponies are saying,” she says, dragging him to the middle. The main subject of discussion around the well is the dream everypony had, trying to hash out the details. The mare was blue -and- black. Her mane was blue with sparkles, and something else. She was a pegasus and a unicorn. She was giant, but seemed to be able to look you in the eye. As Little Seed hears more, more starts to come back to him. Vague memories of... light. And a forest. A great, dark forest. Where he needed to do... something. And that mare! She needed help. With something very important. Little Seed frowns, furrowing his brow, which has the side effect of a scrunchy muzzle. As more and more comes back to him, Turnip Stew, and everypony else in the crowd, the pace of conversation quickly increases. Until, through the din, a clear voice shouts: "Hold it!" Silence spreads through the crowd, with ponies’ attention gradually coming to rest on the speaker. Book Mark, the town recordkeeper, and the closest thing they have to a librarian. Little Seed doesn't know her well. When she was grey, she'd take every chance she had to categorize just how much of a failure he was as a farmer, and since he didn't have to see her, he avoided her. She's holding a well worn book with one leg, standing next to the well and signaling for other attention. "Was this," she asks, opening the book and presenting it to the crowd at random, her motions bringing it near Little Seed. "The mare you saw?" On the page she opens is a long-faded illustration, showing a pony with the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus, her mane a starry, ethereal, mist. She wears a crown, and hooves, and armor across the chest, decorated with a crescent moon. He narrows his eyes, looking closer...and in a flash, he sees her - horn and wings, statuesque stature, her mane a flowing, sparkling mist, saying...something. Pleading, almost. "That's her!" A few other voices quickly join in with Little Seed, nodding or adding affirmative sounds. Book Mark nods and lays the book out by the well, leaving it where everypony can see it. "That's a book of Myths and Legends my aunt gave me. I didn't think any of the creatures in it were real, so it took me a bit to place it, but then I remembered. It says her name is Luna." At once, that name clicks in Little Seed's head, and snippets of conversation float to mind. Something about a forest. And a castle? And a battle! "She's the shapeshifting Princess of the Moon who sometimes travels to Equestria to do battle with evil creatures or overthrow wicked tyrants." Little Seed 's brow furrows again. "Which moon?" "I don't know," Book Mark admits. "It doesn't say." "There used to just be the one!" Turnip Stew pipes up, a few other old-timers nodding along with her. "Back in the old days, before the world went all funny." "It seems forever ago now." Just one moon? Little Seed looks up at the sky. Above him, one of the suns hits a wandering moon, sending them both careening through the sky with a spray of sparks and lightning. Two suns and three moons remain in sight, now. "That sounds like the mare I saw," Snare Trap admits. "She seemed like a serious sort. Very regal. And I do remember something about a tyrant. And a battle." "She wasn't fighting the tyrant though," Turnip Stew continues. "Just something about him. And there was a battle. In a... forest?" "Also a castle,” Little Seed adds. "...I think she wanted help." Gradually, a few more ponies nod along with Little Seed. "Yeah. She did," somepony else adds. "Like it wasn't going all that well." "I don't remember the castle," Snare Trap shakes his head. "But now that I think about it, there's only one big forest around here. That'd be the Everfree. Back when I was a game warden, anyway." That name triggers a memory for at least a few ponies. Comprehension dawning on their faces. “Right! Her castle in the Everfree Forest.” "No castles in the Everfree," Snare Trap insists, but he's clearly outvoted as more and more ponies start to recall. "There also used to be only one moon," Little Seed points out. "And everypony was grey." Book Mark nods, taking her book back under a leg. "That does sound a lot like the stories about her in the book. They say that in the days before Equestria, she'd descend from the moon on a beam of light with her army of shapeshifters to do battle with evil. A lot of those myths focus around pony heroes she asks for help. So I guess she's asking us." That sends a ripple through the crowd. Ponies set to babbling all over again. "So you're going then?" somepony asks Book Mark, only for her to quickly backtrack. "I didn't say that! Ponies don't always survive those old stories," she insists. "Besides, have you been outside the town lately? It's not safe. Sometimes the land doesn't appear, and if you fall off the edge, who knows where you'll land?" Little Seed slips his jugs off, and starts working the well. "Not that the town was all that safe,” he points out. “Well, until recently." "Yeah!" Turnip Stew agrees, with a sudden burst of energy. She needs a moment to catch her breath after that, like she was as surprised as everypony else. "Can't be worse out there than it is in here. Besides! Seems to me this Luna mare set the town straight, least we can do in return is help her. "And she's a pegasus," she adds. "Would be real nice if somepony could bring the rain back." "She's royalty, Stew. I don't think she pushes clouds around," somepony replies, dry. "Like you've ever met royalty," Turnip Stew insists. "Well, something ungreyed us all,” Little Seed says. “And if we got ungreyed, why not the pegasai?" "Yeah." Turnip Stew agrees. "We can't just sit here and pretend nothin' happened." "Stew, you're..." Snare Trap starts, pausing to speak delicately, "not exactly in your prime." "Good enough to whup your butt if you say that again," she replies, tartly. "Besides! I won't be alone, will I? Little Seed has, by now, filled one jug, and starts working on the other. "Of course not,” he says. “I'll be going, one way or the other." "Me too!" a second pony chimes in. "And me!" adds a third. "I'll do anything to get the rain back!" There are a few doubters, but they're soon in the minority as the bold sentiment sweeps through the herd. Ponies eager to meet this mysterious mare who saved them, and come to her aid. None of them are exactly warriors, and they don't exactly know what constitutes a "great battle," but there are stories of earth pony heroes fighting with their farming tools, and the town has plenty of those. Some of them are even sharp! Little Seed has his own eye on a little hoof-scythe (perfectly wieldable in the mouth, as well), but he's a farmer, right, and somebody needs to see to provisions. Along with a few other like-minded ponies and Snare Trap's hopefully-still-accurate memory of how long the trek might take, Little Seed gets a sort of caravan cobbled together. Enough food and packed water to get them along the way. There'd be no guarantees of grazing land, even with things changing. Not that anyone particularly wanted to graze, either. There are still carts and wagons to be had, and they're quickly loaded with the rest of Little Seed's produce along with his water jugs. Many others likewise contribute, and soon there's a little caravan waiting, with three wagons and a dozen ponies to its name. Snare Trap remains skeptical, but comes along as a guide, while the others are all gung-ho, hitching themselves up to the wagons or practicing with their farming tools turned spears and polearms. The expedition sets out soon, with those who remained behind wishing them well and hoping for their swift return. The road out of town is marked just the way the road from Little Seed's house was, and the ground springs up the same way. Little Seed has never been down that trail before. At first, the air is jovial. With Snare Trap guiding the way, they walk and chat and speculate, until everypony is starting to get hungry and exhausted, and the caravan declares that a day has passed and it's time to eat and rest. There are minor encounters, such as a little group of grey unicorns shooting sparks, and even a wolf who has to be poked away with the group’s collection of tools. All of them are dealt with fine though, and overall, they do a great deal to persuade the ponies involved that the outside is not as dangerous as they thought. It's not until the second day that things start to go wrong. It's then that the pony pulling the lead cart—a mare by the name of Sun Shine—sets her foot out into empty space. There's the usual blur of motion, and the ground appears. But it appears a good thirty feet below the rest of the trail. Sun rears and tries to back up, but it's too late. Her forehooves go over the edge, and the weight of the cart comes with her. Twisting as the falls, she passes out of sight, and a loud crash of splintering wood is audible below. Little Seed rushes forward, to try and pull her back. But too late. He peers over the edge of the ground. Looking down below, he can see that the cart didn't land on her—thank the earth. Her twisting ensured that it landed beside her, and both are now sprawled out on the next section of earth, a jagged and rocky island. The cart is splinters, but Sun seems to be intact. "You okay there!?" Turnip Stew calls. Sun lifts her head, but when she puts a leg on the ground to push herself up, cries out in pain and falls back down. "...no!" she answers after a moment, strain audible in her tone. "I think my leg is broken." "Right.” Little Seed says. “Rope!" There's a pause. Coughing. A few ponies quickly looking through the provisions. "I have my snare cords," Snare Trap finally offers. "Those should hold a pony alright." "Right...but do you have enough to reach down there?" Little Seed asks. "Uh... if we knot them all together?" Snare suggests, nosing through his saddlebags. "That should reach." "Good enough.” Seed replies. “You'll have to lower me down." The group seems reassured by Little Seed taking charge, and soon all the cords are knotted together. There isn't enough to put together a proper harness, but it can loop around his barrel, and with six sets of earth-pony teeth clamping down on the other cords, there's strength aplenty to lower him down. The cord cuts into his midsection, and his balance is unsteady, but the group lowers him down at a smooth rate, and he soon touches down next to Sun Shine. "Hey," she calls up to him. A sunflower-yellow mare with even paler hair. She's still hooked up the wagon and hasn't moved, though there's no blood or anything. That's good. "Hey. Anything else hurt?" he says, as he touches down and moves to unhook her from the wagon. "Uh, well. I'm a little bruised up," she says, though her voice sounds weak. The restraints on her come off easily enough, and when he lifts her, she lets out only a faint squeak of pain, insisting that she's fine. "I'm good. Let's get out of here." When he gets back in the harness though, and the cord goes taut, it quickly becomes clear that they have a problem. There's no way for Little Seed to stay balanced on a single loop of cord while carrying another pony. And not enough spare cord to create a proper harness. After a few attempts where he sways dangerously within the first few feet of his ascent, they rapidly lower him back down. "Getting kind of dizzy here!" Sun Shine says, trying to keep her tone up as she rests over Little Seed's back. "Well, that didn't work," Snare Trap calls from above. "I guess we'll have to... haul her up first, maybe?" "Probably best,” Seed says. “I don't have the tools to rig something out of the bags down here." "Sure let's do it," Sun Shine agrees, But when Little Seed lowers her to the ground so he can get the harness on her, she's clearly having trouble keeping her balance even on her three good legs. Her expression dazed and unsteady. "C'mon. Let's do this," she urges again. Little Seed secures her as best he can, then waves up to Snare and the rest. The rest of the team starts to pull, and Sun Shine rises—but as she does, she starts to sway. Her sense of balance is evidently off, and she has only one foreleg with which to support herself. Suddenly, halfway up, she slips backwards in the loop, her rear sliding out from the cord. "Help!" she shouts, trying to hook her legs around the rope Little Seed has been watching. But, from where he is, there's not much he can do but move to catch her if she falls. Soon, she slides the rest of the way back, slipping out of the loop completely. Little Seed jumps, but her fall isn't taking her to him. It's taking her off the edge of the island. And this time, no ground appears under her. Her shout carries up to him, but soon grows fainter and fainter, as she fades into the infinite distance. Little Seed stares after her. Above Little Seed, the rest of the little expedition rushes to the edge of their own island, peering out for any sign of her. But nothing appears. "She landed... somewhere. Right?" Turnip Stew asks. "I don't know,” Little Seed replies. Things only get worse from there. Snare Trap's memory of this place is from when you could see landmarks in the distance. Now he can only navigate by a few dozen paces around the road, and he admits that some of the road sections are jumbled up, or in the wrong order. First comes the admission that they're lost. Then the realization that turning around doesn't take them to the same places they were before. Then worse things than stray greycoats and wolves. Plants that carry supplies off and under the islands. Patches of earth with reversed gravity. Sudden cliffs. Storms of chocolate. Bunnies that swarm over a pony and chew on hair. Dead ends, where no islands rise up around them, forcing them to backtrack under the hot suns. Finally, after four periods of rest—four days—the water is gone and the food is running low. Ponies strained as the caravan comes to a halt. "We're near the forest. I know we are," Snare Trap insists. "The terrain is right for it, I just can't get us there." “Maybe we should split up,” one pony suggests. “See who can find it first.” "That's a terrible plan," Turnip Stew scoffs. "We should see if we can wave down a pegasus. Grey or not, maybe they can help." Little Seed has been watching the sky. He has seen a few pegasai up there. Lazing around on their clouds. Weaving among the cotton candy storms. None are close at hoof right now, but there are a few in the distance he could try calling to. He cocks his head, thinking back. Was there a proper way to address a pegasus? Ah well. Best to make it up. "AHOY THE CLOUDS! CAN YOU HEAR ME UP THERE?"! That appears to be wrong. Or maybe they don't hear him. The others follow Little Seed's cue though, shouting up into the clouds: "Hey there!" one calls. Nothing. "Hello!" shouts another. Nothing. "Hey featherbrain!" tries a third. Definitely not. Finally, one draws a deep breath. "Hey! We need help down here! Help!" That last word seems to echo. "Help, help, help." And before them, there's a magnificent thundercrash. Ponies leaping back in surprise as three mares appear out of the thin air. "Don't worry, little ponies, there's no need to fear," the first one says. A pink pegasus mare with a blue mane. She flaps up to the group, reaching out to hold a startled ponies cheek. She's doing something funny with her voice. It sounds... nice. "You may be in danger, but help is here! When ponies on the ground, stand lost and afraid, In a flash comes the Pegasus Rescue Brigade!" Little Seed blinks. This is...extremely new. The other two—off-purple, one with a yellow mane and one with a bright blue one—slide up to the group and start handing out water from their saddlepouches, tending to a few of the ponies who have received bumps and scrapes. "Gonna stand there with your mouth hanging open all day?" the pink one asks him, grinning as she hovers in front of him. "I hadn't planned on it,” he replies. His eyes move to her wings. "Do you know what happens to ponies who fall off?" "Oh, they all land somewhere," she answers, with a shrug. "Why, did you lose somepony?" He grimaces. "Yes." "Don't worry," the pink one assures. "In our sky, the further you fall, the softer you land. Makes no sense, but it's true! She touched down light as a feather. I can even show you the way to her." "Wait,” he says, “how do you know who she is?" "Why, because she cried out for help as she fell, of course," the pink one says, with a smile. "You see... "To bring order to Equestria and tend to her new peace," she does that thing again, the one that makes her voice sound sweet. "Our Hurricane knew that ponies fear of the sky must cease, And so she called forth her lightning and imbued our merry band, And now we answer ponies cries for help across the land! It's our secret bit of magic, the spell that's of our breed, To dash across the sky like lightning, when ponies are in need, No matter how lost you are or how far you may roam, Just cry out to the bright blue sky and we will guide you home!" It ends on a bit celebratory tone, the pink one grinning as her friends do the work of tending to those who have been knocked around. "Get it?" she asks Little Seed. "I think so,” he replies. "Do you know how to get to Luna?" "As it happens, I do," the pink one says, rolling over so she's looking at Little Seed upside down, evidently having no problem hovering in the air that way. "Your little yellow friend made the same request, and I was happy to oblige." "Well, good then!” he says. “Because that's where we were all headed, but with all this ..." and he waves at the surrounding lack of land or landmarks, "we haven't been able to find our way to the Everfree." "I can see how that would be tricky. But don't worry. We'll have you where you belong very soon," the pink one assures. The other members of Little Seed's party are starting to look up, a few of them chatting with the pair of mares helping them. "Would you all like to go now? I'm sure you're eager to be on your way." "Is it really that easy?" Turnip Stew asks. "You just zap us all there?" "Oh! No," the pink one laughs and waves her off. "That magic only works for us, to rush us to poor ponies in need of assistance. But, we do have another bit of magic that will speed you on your way. Just like our Pegasus Rescue song brings us to you, we've got another little chant that puts poor lost earth ponies where they belong. Sing along with us, and you'll be with your friend in a jiffy. "Ready?" the pink one asks. Sing. It had been a long, long time since Little Seed had sung anything. He gets to his feet, and nods. He'd forgotten the word. That's what they were all doing earlier. "Great! Now sing a-long with our chant," she begins, slow so that the group can join in, their voices gradually catching up. "And we will begin. "The magic that carries ponies off to where they find their kin," she continues, as the group joins in properly. "Wings whisk up to the sky, and horns to halls of stone, But this is the Earth Pony chant, so where do hooves make their home?" There's a pause. "Dirt." The two mares lift out of the crowd. One of them makes a disgusted expression, wiping at her face where one of Little Seed's band touched her. The soft purple color in her coat wipes away like grime, revealing grey beneath. "Dirt is where hooves make their home, and it's of dirt that they're made, Dirt and pain's your birthright, and dirt's your only trade, Dirt is what we'll help you too, and dirt's what we're here to save," Little Seed frowns. The ponies in the group are slowly dropping out of the song, as their expressions turn confused. Then the final note comes. "So it's time for you to join your friend when we help you to your grave!" Then a rock hits Turnip Stew where she stands. Right. So this was like when the rocks had their little revolt. Little Seed has a simple solution to this. He wheels, and bucks, aiming both hooves at the pink one's face. His sudden attack catches the pink one by surprise. She was evidently expecting the group to panic, and he hits her clear in the face and shoulders, sending her flying backwards from the little island. The other two back off as well, and the herd—which probably was about to panic—takes sudden vigor from Little Seed's strike. Shouting and booing the mares away as they recover their tools. But despite the moral victory, it doesn't look like Little Seed actually did very much damage. And when the mare recovers, she and her two friend's expressions are fixed right on Little Seed. "I've got a rock!" chimes one of the two tag-alongs. "I've got another rock," chimes the other. "I've got a special rock," chimes the pink one, pulling a little round object out of her bag. With a fuse. "Throw at will, girls! These poor ponies aren't going to help themselves." The last rock that sparked like that left a hole in the ground. There's not much time to think. Just to act. Little Seed charges, leaping straight for the pony with the special rock, legs wide to grab and hold. The mare just has the fuse lit when he leaps. She shrieks with surprise, and the grenade tumbles out of her grasp, falling away into the infinite sky. He hits her head on, and all four legs wrap around her. Tongues of fire and bits of shrapnel tear at his coat as the grenade explodes somewhere below them, and suddenly he's in a mid-air grapple for his life, with the pink pegasus whirling and diving and headbutting him to try and dislodge him. "Get off get off get off!" "I'd rather not fall, thank you!" he shouts. Her response is to snarl and bite his shoulder, the two of them reduced to headbutting to fight as they careen unsteadily across the sky. Dives, spins, and loops threaten to throw him from her grasp, but he manages to stay on! Until her two friends catch up anyway, and then the grapple turns against Little Seed. Her pink makeup is smudged all over him now, revealing the grey beneath as her two friends rip him off her. She looks left and right, but the island where Little Seed's party once stood is empty. Seems they ran off while the mares were distracted. "You don't wanna fall!?" she snarls at him. "Well that's too bad. You're going to fall, little dirt pony! And you're gonna land right where your friend did. Buh-bye now!" Little Seed kicks, and struggles, but then two mares overpower him and let him go. And he tumbles through the sky. True to the mare’s word, though he falls for what seems forever, he lands as gentle as a feather, touching down in a grove of strange plants, on top of damp soil, looking up at a canopy of trees. He checks himself over, but yes, everything seems to be in place. "Well. At least she didn't lie about that," he mutters, and looks around him. Plants he hasn't seen before, trees overhead. Big trees. Very big trees. Healthy trees. This must be what they call a forest. And if this was a forest, then maybe it was actually...where he needed to be. The air is full of odd smells. Wet soil. Animals. Something... leafy he can't quite place. And it's dark! There's light. Light enough to see by. But it's actually dark. And the light had an odd character too. Silvery. Paler than he remembers. He shakes himself off, and...shivers. Huh. It was actually a little cold. Chillier than the cellar, even on the days when the suns weren't quite so bright. It felt...kind of good actually. But! Distractions! He is in a forest. It is...probably the Everfree, because if it isn't it meant he is completely hopelessly lost and he doesn't much care for that. And if it is the Everfree, then Luna's castle is here somewhere. Not that he knows where. A moment more, and he shrugs, rises, and steps out, heading off to explore. It's not hard to pick a direction. He's on a slope, making his options up or down, and when he goes up, the trees seem to thin out, giving him a better view.At the top of the ridge, he can see something in the distance, and a little more quick scrambling for higher ground clears his sight the rest of the way. Above him, the sky is dark. No suns or strange clouds marr it—just a collection of odd, sparkling white dots, surrounding a single bright moon whose silvery light illuminates the landscape. In the distance, he can see a building larger than any he's ever seen before. A towering edifice of imposing stone and shadowed walkways, its towers grim and dark, built to withstand any assault. Strange stone monsters are perched atop its battlements, giving it all an intimidating air. It is undoubtedly what he seeks. But a moment later, the sees why the three cruel mares abandoned him here. Surrounding the castle is a vast horde of creatures, the likes of which he has never seen before. Dogs that walk on two legs. Wolves made of timber and branches. Things that are like ponies, but too tall, and too long in the face, and impossibly slender. Great hulking shaggy beasts, next to catapults and rams on wheels. Reaching the tower on hoof seems impossible, with hundreds in his way. And down in the camp, near a patch of firelight, he can see Sun Shine. Tied up and afraid, left alone by the fire. The only ponies he sees in the camp are grey—and their behavior is as monstrous as the rest. Castle on the other side of an army, with a mare to rescue on the way. He looks down at his hooves. He'd lost the little scythe somewhere along the way. This won't cut it. He could fight rocks and wrangle unruly plants, but this is...different. It will require a different approach! Fortunately, there is mud in abundance, and he wastes no time in rolling in it. Soon he's covered in mud head to hoof. The damp soil of the forest seeping into his coat. For a little something extra, he sticks his head in a bush and shakes it around. And thus, looking very strange indeed, he makes his way for the army of creatures. A mud-creature with leaves for ears and twigs for a jaw is hardly the strangest thing in this camp. And when he trots in like he owns the place, without the slightest fear of the guards or sentries. They pay him no mind. Sun Shine is neglected it seems. They evidently think she's in no danger of escaping—and given that one of her legs is turning an odd color, and she's bound head to hoof in rope, the guards’ presumption seems to be correct. In the darkness, she doesn't recognize Little Seed any more than the guards do, cringing away from this leaf-monster that nears her fire. He's walking a little oddly. It's partly the mud, which is not exactly comfortable, but also, he's not supposed to be a pony right now. As Sun Shine cringes away from him, he forces out a chuckle. "No love for your Seedy friend?" he says, keeping his voice low. She freezes. Gradually, her ears perk up. She looks left. Then right. "Little Seed?" she whispers, so quiet even he can barely hear her. He winks. "Shhhhh." She looks like she might break down for sheer joy on the spot, starting to tear up as she sees him. "Oh, Little Seed. Thank goodness, I—" then she catches herself, and falls silent at once. Making herself squeeze away the tears. "I thought I was alone," she finally whispers. “Well, you aren't,” he murmurs. “But talk later, yeah? Also, sorry in advance, this is probably going to hurt," he says, as he grabs the ropes that bind her, and starts to drag her forward. "Nnngh!" she squeaks, but manages not to cry out. "Oh, no. Yeah. That's just a little tickle," she manages, her eyes and jaw clamped shut. Ponies rescuing damsels rarely haul them around like a sack of flour. But ponies rescuing damsels aren't usually pretending to be monsters, either. And much as Sun Shine isn't enjoying it at the moment, Little Seed's disregard for the pain she's in probably does a good bit to help him blend in in this camp. Walking towards the opposite end of the camp, Little Seed is largely ignored. Most of the guards seem heavily distracted by something. The camp is a buzz with activity. Preparing to attack, he would guess, from how ammunition is being rolled up to the catapults and how every monster there is awake. A few guards do look his way, but they pay him little mind. Until he's at the extreme edge of the camp on the castle's side, and a rough voice calls out: "Hold it!" There he sees a strange, ugly little dog thing that walks on two legs. Shackles made from bits of crystals and gems bind it at the ankles and wrists ,though oddly, the shackles aren't actually connected to anything. "Where are you... eeehh," it inhales roughly. "Taking that, eh. Poh-nee?" Little Seed lets go the rope, and steps forward, showing teeth. "What, you like Poh-nees? Want to take the Poh-nee yourself?" "What? No!" The chattering little dog-creature steps back. He takes another step forward. "Want to brush the pre-tty poh-nee's mane, and brush the pre-tty poh-nee's tail? Pet the pre-tty poh-nee's coat? Scratch the pre-tty poh-nee's ears?" "No! Why would I want to do that? Poh-nees aren't adorable like that at all!" It insists, defensively. "They are ugly. And stupid! I don't want the stupid ugly pony. No matter how brushable it is. You can have it!" The guard, looking about nervously, beats a quick retreat. Little Seed turns, chuckling to himself, and resumes what he was doing. "Yay I'm adorable," Sun Shine manages, as Little Seed drags her through the wood. Out of the camp. And finally, up to the grand castle gates. By which time he's not dragging her, but carrying her on his back properly. Now that there's no more need for trickery. One, two, and then three loud knocks from his hoof echo off the huge wooden gates. Seeming booming and thunderous in the strange... night. And after a moment, the gates swing open of their own accord. Inside is a long, grand, quiet hall, where a tall pony waits. She has a blue coat, spotted with black, the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn. Her mane is like nothing Little Seed has ever seen before, save perhaps the sky above this castle. Blue, and sparkling, and silvery and... calm. Her horn glows, and the ropes around Sun Shine release themselves. Before she can fall, she too is lifted. Abruptly, she squeaks in fright, and something in her leg makes a loud snap—but when she looks down, the purple is rapidly fading. A moment later, she stands on all four hooves, unbroken and unharmed. "You two have come a very long way to see me," says the Princess of the Moon. "I have watched you and your journey." She tilts her head up, as though hearing something in the distance, though to Little Seed, the hall is quiet. "Come, we should not be near this gate. They will attack soon." And turning, she leads them inside.
Introductions: Melrose Melrose Character Name: Melrose Player Name: Pav Feira Race: Earth Pony Mare Class: Schooled Bard 4 / Zen Archer (Applebucker?) Monk 1 Role: Support (Songs, Spells, Lasso), Ranged (Apples) Melrose opens her eyes. At once, terror grips her. Adrenaline shoots through her body. Something is wrong—something is terribly wrong. Wrong with her, wrong with the world. She isn't where she's supposed to be. There's something she needs to be doing—something very important—but she can't remember what it is and she isn't in the right place! Panic soon overwhelms her, and with a scream, she tumbles from her bed, landing on the floor with a hard thump. All around her, her room in Conservatory is just how she remembers it, but the things that once brought her joy elect only that bizarre feeling of alienation. The bright and garish posters on the walls, the glitter stuck to her shiniest possessions, the pile of glowsticks and on the dresser and the gemstones around her mirror. All is as it should be, but the more she sees the harder it is to face. Finally she can bear it no longer, and another terrified squeak escapes her. She shuts her eyes, and curls up into a ball on the floor with her blankets, trying to purge the horrible feelings that rack her body like a terrible curse. It is as she lies there that she notices another thing. It's quiet. It's never quiet in Conservatory. There's always drums banging and mental clanging and horns blaring, unicorns using lightning as a harp, and pegasai playing classical music in thunder. It's always booming, the floor always shaking. But now, it's silent. That doesn't make Melrose feel any better. To be sure, Melrose has had her fair share of nightmares. They all passed. This one will too. She just needs to hide her head under the blanket a moment more, and this tacky room with its garish horrors will be gone. Yes, any moment she'll be waking up now. Very soon. Maybe nip at her ankle to speed up the process. Well. Now her ankle hurts. Whipping the blanket off her head, she rises to her hooves. "Well," she remarks while making her way to her mirror, "this day is off to a lovely start. Now. Isn't. It." Her mirror is a… filly thing. All made of gold and filigree, and covered in gemstones that have been roughly affixed to the frame. She sees herself in its glass, with her auburn mane and chartreuse coat. It's more... colorful, than she remembers. She should be a nice, pleasant slate grey. But of all the horrible colors that adorn this horrible room, the color in herself is perhaps the one that doesn't set her off. That, at least, seems right. "Ugh. Who in their right mind would..." Something rattles about in the back of her mind. A faint memory. She quickly decides not to pull that particular thread any further, instead focusing back on fixing up her mane. Looking presentable. Maybe checking if all of her wardrobe isn't so... so… bedazzled. Oh sweet pegasai above. Is everything in her chest of drawers pink? Hot pink, even. With palm trees or other garish images on the front. She actually owns clothes with writing on them, ranging from merely tasteless to "If you're reading this, stop staring at my cutie mark," on a long saddle blanket. Melrose makes a low moan from the back of her throat, filled with pain and unfathomable sorrow. The only thing she finds that isn't completely repulsive is her old white choker, and that's shoved completely into the back, covered in dust. "Fine, just—" Catching herself, she takes a few calming breaths. "Fine." She affixes the choker then makes quickly for the door, having had far too much of this room that—oh stars above that can't really be her room. With a shake of her head, she exits. Her door opens into what appears to be a giant trumpet case. On account of the giant trumpet inside. Melrose's day has not improved. The space is an odd fusion of the Conservatory building she remembers and... well, a giant brass instrument. Each of the three sliders is also a door, roughly representing the three doors she remembers as being in her dorm hall. The latch on the case is another strange doorway, made all of brass, tucked in against the inside of the enormous carrying container. As she looks around, in a daze, she notices that one of the other two doors is cracked open, a tan eye staring out at her warily. There is a distinct possibility that this eye belongs to a pony. Possibly one who is not covered in glowsticks and glitter. She approaches the eye, not bothering to hide her weariness. "Oh, please please please tell me you're sane." There's a pause. "How do I know you're sane?" a stallion’s voice asks after a moment. Rolling her eyes and rubbing at her temple with a hoof, she replies, "Considering the condition of my room, there's a distinct possibility that I am not. Also, this hallway is a trumpet. So there's that." The eye scoots to the left, looking out at the hall. It squints a moment. Looks back at her. "I'm only coming out if you promise not to kiss me." Melrose stares. And stares. Juts her jaw a bit. "I'll try my hardest," she quips. "It's not funny!" the eye insists. And it's tone is rather upset. "The last thing I remember, I'm starting Conservatory, and then suddenly, everything goes all weird and there's a mare kissing me, and for some reason my room is full of acoustic guitars and smells like burning grass! I hate acoustic guitar!" Melrose takes an indignant sniff or two. That is, indeed, burning plant matter. A specific kind of it, even. "Yes, well, I'm not fond of glitter and... cutie-shorts," she says, the last word dripping with disdain. "So clearly, both our rooms have been fouled." She motions him forward with a hoof. "Just come on out of your room. I'm sure it would make you feel worlds better." "Well... alright." The door slowly swings open, and out steps a stallion. A unicorn, with a pale yellow coat and an off-blue mane. His cutie mark is unassuming—a series of musical notes and piano keys. A glance over his shoulder is enough to confirm that his room is full of guitars, as well as posters with pretentious quotes from dead ponies. He's looking at her carefully though, one ear tilted up. "Haven't we... met?" he asks. "Yeah. Yeah, on orientation day. We were both just moving in. You were… mmm… Mel… boure?" She gives him a studying glance, much the same as he's giving her. "Melrose," she corrects him, casual, distracted. She does indeed remember bits and pieces. Arriving at the Conservatory. A bit of practicing, of course. Perfecting that one fugue and—Right, the pony in front of her. Oh, of course she remembers his name. It was… Deep something. That's right. Because somepony made fun of him asking if his music was deep. Started with a C. Currents. "Deep Currents." She says it aloud without much confidence, but immediately it sounds right. "Yes, it is you, isn't it?" "Yeah, that's me." When he confirms his identity, the memories suddenly crystalize. Arriving at Conservatory. Meeting everypony. She hid her accent so well, nopony even noticed. Then they all started moving their stuff in and—something she doesn't want to think about. Many, many things. Deep Currents seems to get the same feeling, and suddenly looks uncomfortable. "Well. This is uh... strange. I guess we should try to find somepony and... figure out what's going on?" He doesn't sound at all assured. "Mmm," she replies, equally unconvinced. "At any rate, there's no point in staying around our... rooms. Maybe we could find our effects, or a way out, or just about anything else." "Y-yeah. Okay." He nods, keeping alongside her, as she opens up the case-latch doorway at the end of the hall. The doorway opens into a broader space. Melrose vaguely recalls this being a lounge for the attending students, but now the couches, tables, and fireplace are scattered about on a strange track. They seem to be floating in empty space, suspended above nothing, and the track forms the outline of a french horn. Doorways in space hang at odd angles, leading to who-knows-where, and in the center of it all, she can see an instrument stand set up, including a drum set, a series of flutes, and a gong. There's one other pony in the room: a rather nervous looking yellow pegasus with a wind-harp on her flank. She looks up as soon as the two appear, and then heaves a sigh of relief. "Oh! Good. Sorry, you two scared the heck out of me there. We're trying to gather everypony up in the common room. It's back through the door behind me. Think you can catch up?" "Uh... maybe?" Deep Currents looks at Melrose. "What's going on?" "I don't know. It's... weird." the pegasus answers with a frown. "I'll see you soon though, okay?" With that, she turns and makes her own way to the common room, leaving Melrose and Deep Currents to their own devices. "It would appear that the world's lost its collective mind. Though the lot of us have come to our senses." Melrose nods once to herself, then looks around at the instrument collection. Seeing if anything looks familiar in the unceremonious pile. That gong does. Somehow. She has unpleasant memories of... banging on it... while… She quickly suppresses the thought. Years of therapy will have to wait. "Let's go," Deep Currents says, starting off down the same path as the pegasus mare. "You know, a regular size Prench Horn has over ten paces worth of tubing it? So, walking around this room might take awhile." After a moment he adds, "Heh." Still, the gong seems familiar. Like she's used it before. The gong makes the faintest sound when Melrose picks it up with her tail. But it's a strange sound, not what Melrose was expecting. She can barely hear it, of course, but it's not nearly metallic enough. She gives the instrument a curious glance, then hoists it onto her back. "Sorry, this is just a lot to take in," Deep Currents continues, filling the void. "You can say that again..." Melrose trots up quickly to him, then matches his pace as they continue onward. "Still, instruments and students. Perhaps we're on the right path away from this madness after all." "What, you're thinking of finishing your musical education?" he asks with a little chuckle. "Insanity being no barrier to art." "After all the bits I paid to get in?" she replies, faintly quirking the corners of her mouth. He gets a good, proper laugh out of that. "Can't argue with that." "T'would be a shame to drop out now, just because the universe has gone mad." Deep Currents: "Well, you know. Dedication," he says as they trot down the long path. "It's funny though," he adds. "When I woke up this morning, I was playing the guitar. I mean, everything else was horrible. But I can't play the guitar. Couldn't. But I felt like I'd had lessons for... I don't know. A long time." Melrose makes a sour face. "Please tell me I didn't have, I don't know, glowstick lessons." "I remember..." Deep Currents suddenly makes a disgusted face, and his muzzle scrunches up. "Uuugh. I think you might have." Melrose groans. "But, uh..." he struggles for something more positive to say. "Maybe you had other lessons too. You might already be a graduate." Sighing, she shakes her head. "Well. We'll put this whole affair in order, but for now, let's just regroup with the others. Maybe you and the other unicorn can"—she waggles her hoof in a what’s-the-word sort of manner—"fix." "Oooh. Um. Well, you know how some unicorns have world-altering cosmic powers and... glowy eyes and stuff? My magic mostly tunes pianos." Deep Currents coughs. "But, maybe one of the others is a wizard." Melrose chuckles, good-natured. "Perhaps. Anyway, we should be nearly there... if this blasted place weren't so..." She falls off, grumbling. "Prench?" That earns a genuine laugh. Soon, they reach the door the pegasus mare took, and emerge out into a much larger common room. This room looks almost... sane. Granted, everything has a piano-key motif, and the floor makes sounds when Melrose steps on it, but that's not the craziest thing ponies have ever designed. It's a recognizable room, with couches and windows and a bunch of nervous-looking ponies with musical cutie marks. There's even sunlight from out the windows though it's... shifting oddly. Very quickly. "Oh, hey!" the pegasus mare from before says, everypony looking up. "See? I told you. I think that's everypony. You two were the only ponies left in that wing, right?" "I—" Didn't even think to check. Horseapples. "I don't know," Melrose admits. "I didn't see anypony besides you and Deep Currents, though." "I... don't remember anypony being in the third room on moving day." Deep Currents says, though he's hesitant. "Well, I guess we'll just go then." The pegasus mare shakes herself out, before turning to address the assembled ponies. "Um, okay. Hi. Everypony. I'm Chopsticks, and I'm one of the instructors here. Or I was, I guess. To catch everypony up, no, none of us have any idea what's going on. It looks like all the Conservatory rooms are still here... sort of. But, outside. Well..." She jerks her head toward the windows. "If you haven't taken a look yet, you should go ahead." Melrose gives a brief glance, watching for the irregular sunlight she noticed earlier. "Better than in here, or worse?" Deep Currents steps up to the window nervously, looking outside. He swallows. "Worse." "Of course," she says with a sigh, walking up to his side. Outside, she sees a world of swirling, floating islands. Of three suns and five and one-half moons, bouncing around the sky like billiard balls, while the islands flick and weave in and out of position. Melrose notes with slight confusion that the half-moon is particularly infuriating to her. At least full moons make sense, even if there's four too many. But where would the fun be in making sense? Melrose flicks an ear. "So, yeah," Chopsticks says, after a moment. "There's enough food in the pantry for a little while, and the well pump still works, so we're not in immediate danger. But... I'm open to suggestions." "Right. So perchance going outside isn't a great option." Melrose looks about the group of assembled ponies. "And even if nopony here knows any spells to get rid of all this, I mean... We could still fix up the place, by hoof?" "I... guess we could," somepony says. "But won't we need to go outside eventually?" That starts some discussion about how they could get things back in order—take an inventory of supplies maybe, map out the new building—when finally, one stallion pipes up, abruptly. "I heard a mare." When his odd outburst prompts stares, he blushes slightly, continuing. "When I woke up, I was freaking out. And uh... playing the ocarina makes me feel better when I'm stressed. But when I played it, there wasn't just music. I heard a mare’s voice." He looks around at his peers. "Has anyone else heard that?" There's some general shaking of heads. "What, instead of music?" Melrose arches an eyebrow. "You're saying there was a mare's voice inside your instrument?" An ocarina, though... hmm. "Uh... no," he insists, embarrassed. "I mean, I heard the music. I just also heard a mare shouting at me. I don't know if it's my ocarina or not but... I haven't tried again." He nudges the instrument by his hoof nervously. Melrose looks about, waiting for somepony to do or say something. Mostly the room just looks nervous. Scared and uncertain. Ponies have no idea what to make of this, and they aren't exactly a take-charge lot. She sighs, grabs the gong off her back, and hangs it from her upraised tail. "Well, that's reasonably sane, by today's standards. Let's see if Screaming Music Mare has anything useful to say." She gives the gong a few professional taps with her hoof, causing it to ring out and reverberate. She can't remember playing a gong before, come to think of it, and yet she knows how, turning her hoof just so as to produce a pleasant note. The gong rings clear, and under that note, she does indeed hear a mare’s voice. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" rumbles an authoritative, booming voice. But nothing follows it, and the gong falling silent. Melrose blanches, quickly looking about the other ponies' faces, but their reaction seems to put her at ease. About half the room looks excited—the other half worried. "That's not what it said when I played my ocarina," the first stallion says. Deep Currents nudges Melrose on the shoulder. “Try it again." Melrose shrugs. "Well, we've all lost our marbles, but at least we've lost them together, mmm?" She sets the gong ringing once more. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" is audible clear as a bell. But again, the gong falls silent. Thinking quickly, Deep Currents gestures across the room. His horn glows as he depresses a number of the piano-key motif pieces, and a few tones sound off in response. "I warn you, the journey will be perilous," sounds the mare. And then again she is silent. Catching on, Melrose motions to the pony with the ocarina. He lifts the ocarina, blowing a note. "I know you will not fail me, my little ponies." The mystery mare reassures. "Oh, I get it," Chopsticks nods. "They're out of order. Quick—what instruments do we have?" A massive search of the room and adjacent chambers commences at once. Experimentation determines that simply making noise with the instrument is not sufficient. One has to actually play it with a degree of skill. And that different instruments play different parts of the message for different ponies. As the ponies play a quick game of what Deep Currents can't help but describe as musical chairs, Melrose ends up with the other pony’s ocarina, since when he plays it, it produces a redundant section. Deep Currents is left to play the room with his horn while strumming a guitar with his hoof. Finally, shifting from instrument to instrument, the band begins to play. "Ponies of Equestria, heed my words!" the voice booms inside the room, significantly louder now that the entire band is assembled. "Hear me and know that I am Luna, Princess of the Moon, and that by the strength and will of myself and my sister, Discord is defeated. The tyrant who corrupted your minds and turned your world of chaos lies as stone, and it is through his defeat that you are restored. "I hope that you are well, and that you recover quickly, but I must also seek your aid. There are creatures who would prevent my sister and I from restoring Equestria to its rightful form, and they now lay siege to us in our castle in the Everfree Forest. We are trapped within its walls and I fear we may not escape, and so I call upon all ponies of this land to come to our aid. "I warn you, the journey will be perilous. The world is not as you remember it, and many creatures will attempt to stop you. But all the world hangs in the balance. It is a time for ponies to discover the heroism within them. I know you will not fail me, my little ponies. Seek me out in the Everfree Forest. The sound of the music I have given will guide you there safely." Then the last note plays, and they're out of instruments. The room is for a moment, silent. A pony coughs. Melrose frowns sharply at the last bit, lost in thought for a moment. She absentmindedly rolls the ocarina about with her tail. "My grandmother met Luna once." Deep Currents says, in the tone of a stallion trying urgently to think about anything but the matter at hand. "She saw a hungry pony when it was starting to snow outside, so she took them home and fed them. And when the moon came up, they turned into a unicorn with the wings of a pegasus, thanked her for her kindness, and blessed her with good fortune." He looks about the room, meeting skeptic looks, and he squirms. "Or at least, that's how she explained never losing a game of chance. Ever." "...hmm. Well,” Melrose says at length. “It sounds like this, err... moon princess... needs the assistance of warriors." She looks about the room, dryly. "So if any of you know how to play the broadsword, or the axe..." "Oh yeah. You'd think Chopsticks is a musical reference, but I actually chop ponies. With sticks. It's my special talent." Chopsticks says, letting out a nervous laugh. "Sorry." "Yeah, I mean. That's a call for warriors," somepony else agrees. "Besides, just /look/ outside. There's not even any ground! We can't all fly." That produces a number of nods. "Then I suppose that's that,” says Melrose. “She asked for warriors, but she contacted the wrong ponies.” She punctuates that sentiment with a nod and an air of finality. Because that's that. Nothing more to think about. Or consider. "Yeah," agrees Deep Currents. Melrose grits her teeth. Grinds her hooves against the piano keys underhoof. And as she opens her mouth to speak— "I'm going." Melrose snaps her head upright and looks at Deep Currents, eyes widened with genuine shock. "Wait, what?" "Yeah. I mean. It's a terrible idea, and I can't fly,” says Deep Currents. “So I'll probably just walk out onto the edge of the island and look like an idiot." He forces himself to shrug, his body all tense. "But. It's a royal summons to save the world. I mean, from the Princess of the Moon instead of Princess Platinum. But that's still a Princess. And uh… Yeah." His gaze drops as his dramatic little speech loses its momentum. "Well..." Melrose kicks at the ground and sighs. "It's more than that, really. We have no idea if any warriors did hear the message. But we heard it. It's kinda..." She looks down at the floor, and as she murmurs, her ostentatious accent starts to sound a bit more… relaxed. "We got a responsibility t'look, right? Make sure the ponies git the message?" Melrose jolts a bit. "I, uh! I mean." She sits herself up straight and demurely coughs into the back of her hoof before resuming. "And besides, the message said something on that point—the sound of the music guiding us, or some such." She looks around the room. "It might be up to us to, well, lead the warriors to her." "Y-yeah!" Deep Currents adds, quickly, evidently a bit relieved to have the pressure off. "What she said." The others don't look so persuaded, though. A few are nodding, but Melrose is mostly getting a room full of blank looks. "I mean, we're not even near the Everfree Forest," one of them says. "And like, all ponies can sing? I'm sure Commander Hurricane can find her way with a good marching song." "Or Princess Platinum's wizards can just teleport there," adds another. "Right, exactly." The babble of conversation starts again, and it doesn't look to be going Melrose's way. Three more stallions stand up, including the one who had the ocarina, and Chopsticks floats over to join them, but that only makes the rest of the room more skeptical. "And you're even assuming that they, or the Chancellor, even received this moon message!" Melrose snaps, growing more indignant with each passing moment. "Perhaps the lot of you are content to sit about, wearing unspeakable phrases about your flanks, but I am not!" "Wait, what's that about phrases on our flanks?" one pony asks. She falters a moment. "Err, nevermind that! The point is—" "Wait, I think I'm getting a... memory or something?" "You most certainly are not!" Melrose shouts back, stomping a hoof. The pony tilts her head and looks upward, trying to remember a tune on the edge of her memories. "'Shake your tail because we're gonna have a party tonight?'" she half-sings. Melrose spins on the tips of her hooves, staring down Deep Current and the few other volunteers. "We are leaving. Immediately." "Right." Deep Currents affirms through his wince. "Err, right!" There is a bit more talking, despite Melrose's wishes, as the volunteers try to bring along others. But the class won't be moved, and it's only five ponies who step outside. Eventually, they emerge out of the front door of the conservatory, only to find that the front steps lead out into empty space. Around them, the suns, moons, and sky pinwheel endlessly, stretching off into infinity. "Well, uh..." Deep Currents draws a breath. "She said the song would show us the way, so… Da daa da da daaaaa~" At once, a chunk of rock hurtles out of the distant infinity, materializing at the base of the steps as a floating trail. "Well... okay," Chopsticks says, with a shrug. Melrose leaps back a bit, peering at the newly-formed path. "...indeed." She grabs out her ocarina again, and starts to play along. And so, the merry troupe marches along, their song making the path appear before them as they go, through the sky they twist, down strange passages and up sheer walls. They see impossible things: rabbits with legs ten feet tall, squares with no corners and animals that talk. They see pegasai with grey coats, floating between the islands and lounging on clouds, who throw rocks at Chopsticks when she tries to get near them. And all the while, their path stretches on, towards the infinite horizon. The composition of the path does change though. First it's city cobbles, then good road. Then bad roads. And now, dirt. The group has kept in remarkably good spirits, and while the journey has been taxing and at times scary, it's rarely been actually dangerous. The song, it seems, steers them away from the hard trails. "...I'm telling you, she wasn't a cheat!" Deep Currents insists in response to one of Chopstick's questions. "That mare could pick up ten dice and roll ten sixes. Reliably. She was blessed." "So she used her blessing from the Princess of the Moon to gamble?" one of the other stallions asks, rolling his eyes. "Well, Luna never showed up to complain. And it paid for me to be here, so shut up," Deep Currents grumbles. "It... does..." Melrose stretches her words and works her jaw. She clearly seems to be struggling to contribute. "I mean, there must have been some reason one would pick that. Of any possible favor. Ponies can surprise you, I suppose." "I suppose,” says Deep Currents. “Maybe moon-ponies approve of gambling. Or are just very honest." He still watches Melrose as they follow the herd, one of the stallions in front playing the song and leading the way. "Is everything okay?" "Hmm?" Melrose glances his way but quickly looks forward when she notices he's giving her one of those looks. "It is." "Oh, uh... good." He nods. "The trip is going well so far, I think. I mean, way better than I thought." "I suppose," she admits, giving a nod. "No sign of these 'warriors' yet, but, well. Perhaps your grandmother's luck rubbed off on you." "If that were true, I'd play an instrument you can bring on the road." Deep Currents says, trying to lighten the mood. "A piano isn't exactly—" Deep Currents cuts off abruptly when he walks face-first into the rear of the stallion in front of him. Their forward guard abruptly comes to a halt. Melrose frowns, leaning upright to peer over the top of them. "What? What's the matter?" She peers over the top of the stallions in front of her, and beholds… A vision of loveliness. Hark, cometh the doe. She who is more graceful than any pony, so fair the world itself sings for the joy of her passage. At a glance, Melrose knows it to be such. She can hear the music, and knows its gentle tune in every ripple of light upon this image before her. She beholds a thing like a mare, but not a mare. A doe. A creature with the most striking black eyes and a softly spotted coat. With legs so fine she seems to ghost upon the soil, and a frame as thin as any reed, bending as subtly with her movements. The slightest motion of her body betrays not just her beauty, but wisdom, and an ageless grace. Here is a creature that tumbled from eternity, and landed without a spot upon the world. She is bare, save for a swan feather tucked behind one ear, and three pony stallions who follow her, a single strand of spider web connecting each of them to her. "Uh... guys?" Melrose hears Deep Currents' voice, but it is distant, and unimportant. "Melrose? Why are you all just staring?" Melrose snorts at the stallions in front of her. Come now, it's just some female mare-like creature! And sure enough that sets all the stallions drooling. Just because she's got long legs. And… And a beautifully conditioned coat. And the way she just nimbly flitters about on her hooves, like a delicate young thing. And... And she looked at Melrose! That's enough to set the young musician's heart aflutter. She gasps a little, and leans her head away, trying to mask her involuntary blush behind her mane. Now she hears Chopstick's voice, sees her shaking one of the stallions violently. "Scales, snap out of it!" she shouts, but her voice is far away. At the end of a distant tunnel. "Scales, you're scaring me. Wake up!" Scales just shoves her away. No surprise. Here she comes! Chopsticks and Deep Currents both rear up, facing down the lovely doe as she approaches. Which is fine. More attention for Melrose. "Um..." Melrose stammers at the approaching doe. "H-Hi." "Who are you!?" Deep Currents demands. "What did you do to them?" "She is the fog of minds and the thief of hearts," says the first stallion who walks alongside the doe. "She is the majesty and the beauty of chaos," says the second. "She is the creature so graceful she flies on a single feather," says the third. "She is the Swan Deer," finishes the first. "But you," speaks the doe, with a voice so warm Melrose could melt in it, "may call me Tox." And nearly melt she does. This will likely make a painfully embarrassing tale at some point in the future, but for now Melrose is weak at the knees. "P-Pleased t'meetcha, Tox," she says, her fake accent completely forgotten. But after all, mares like a pony who can act like themselves around her, right? "You gotta be the most beautiful thing I err set eyes on, bar none." The other stallions reach up to brush at Tox's legs with a hoof—just to touch her. She politely brushes them away. "Yes, yes," she says, though Melrose's voice seems to catch her attention, and she gives Melrose an odd look for a moment. At least, until Chopsticks interrupts her train of thought. "Tell me what you did to my friends!" "Silly thing,” speaks Tox. “I did nothing to them. They're stallions. This is rather their natural state. Except this one, of course." Melrose can't help but swell with pride. She's ignoring those silly groping stallions, and has eyes just for her! Tox gestures, and as though on command, her three escorts rush to Deep Currents and seize him in a powerful grip. "Hey, hey! Let me go!" he shouts. "Mmmm." Tox reaches up, tilting Deep Currents’s head this way and that. Lifting his gums to look at his teeth. "A musician. Unicorn. Decent magical talent, if underdeveloped. Yes, I suppose you'll do. My old unicorn was wearing out anyway." The spiderweb connecting Tox to her unicorn tag-along uncurls itself, and at once, he slumps to the ground from what is obviously exhaustion. Melrose isn't sure how she didn't notice how thin he was before. Ribs showing, coat pale… But that's not important right now. The spiderweb touches Deep Currents's neck now, and at once, he stops struggling, falling back to all fours unrestrained. Deep Currents is her friend! Maybe that's an in with Tox. "You know," Melrose interjects, closing the gap a bit. But not getting all touchy, I mean, honestly now, some ponies... "Deep Currents and I just started at the Conservatory at the same time." She gives her mane a flirtatious little flip. I mean... Sure. She's seen other mares do that. She did fine. "Music's really been a passion of mine. 'Bout long as I can remember." "Melrose, what are you doing!?" Chopsticks shouts. Her voice isn't angry now. It's frightened, and she's backing away. "Guys please wake up." Tox looks down at Melrose, amused. "Honestly, are you what passes for a musician these days? I swear you lot get more feminine every year." That connects about as softly as a sack of bricks. "Ex-CUSE me, but I'll have ya know I been playin' since I was only a little ol' sprout,” Mel snaps, snarling at her. “Just name any ol' instrument and I'll play the applesauce outta it!" Okay, she's got a nice coat but seriously. Tox takes a quick step back, eyes wide. "How dare you!?" she shouts. "No, how dare you!" Melrose shouts right back. "Struttin’ about like yer some kinda debutante, 'n thinkin' that ponies'll just roll with it cuz yer nine different kind of hot! And ya totally are, don't get me wrong, but I will not tolerate ya talkin' down to me like that, y'hear?" she says, posturing herself up as much as she can against the much taller doe. There's a pause. "Oh dear stars it's a mare," Tox mutters, taking a quick step back before Mel can touch her, her tone wholly disgusted. Melrose blinks. A lot. "Yeh?" "Oh dear you... oh," she shakes her head. "Just keep it away from me." At once, the other three stallions move between Mel and Tox, shoving her back and away. "I... Wait no, Tox!" Melrose tries to no avail to push through the stallions. "Tox, 'm sorry I snapped at ya like that. Ya just struck a nerve, but ain't nopony deserved to get a scoldin' like that...." "Ugh." Tox makes a face, giving a little flick of her tail as she turns away. "I can't believe it spoke to me. Hideous thing." "I am so terribly sorry, my lady," Deep Currents says in a dull voice, trotting by her side. "It's my curse, you know,” says Tox. “I bring them out of th—" "Well ‘ugh’ yerself, ya nasty she-wench!" Tox freezes. "Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten." "Oh, you heard me!" Melrose bellows, her face beet-red. "'s bad enough ya insult me once, but ya insult me a second time and I am not rightfully gonna stand by and take it!" Deep Currents turns to Tox. "Would you like me to give her a sound thrashing for speaking to you that way, my lady?" "No. That won't be necessary. Sweet of you to offer though." Tox brushes Deep's head. "You three," she says, gesturing at the three stallions still under her spell. "That deviant mare insulted me. I'd be ever so grateful if you'd..." Tox pauses a moment to think things over. "Eat her." "I..." Melrose’s face goes blank as she stares at Tox. She has trouble parsing that particular sentence. "...like. Live... or?" Scales asks. "Oh, anything is fine, I'm sure," Tox says, so sweet and cheerful. "...well, if that'll really make you feel better." One of them lifts a big, heavy rock. "Listen, Mel. I'm really sorry about this." Okay now she's getting it dodge dodge— "Wait!" Tox calls out as the stallion lifts the rock; they all look her way. "After you're done, throw yourselves off the tallest cliff you can find." "Anything for you, Tox!" they answer. "That's a good stallion." Tox smiles, takes her swan-feather in her teeth, and with a single flap of it, she's aloft, dragging her three bound stallions with her. The stone-carrying stallion looks back, just in time to see Melrose buck him in the face. He staggers back onto the ground, dazed and bloodied, but the other two aren't deterred. "Get her!” one screams, as they tackle Melrose to the ground, kicking and biting. The battle soon turns into a confused melee, as Chopsticks rushes back and tries to pull them off, while they kick and scrap with Melrose on the ground. Now, strictly speaking, it is not proper to play a gong by repeatedly beating a crazed stallion with it, but Mel is largely playing this one by ear. Improvisation, after all, is key to a musician. Finally, with one last resounding bang of the going, Scales slumps out of the fight. Chopsticks is badly bruised by a buck she took in the side, and Mel herself is bruised, scraped, and adorned with several nasty bite marks. Also her gong is dented. But they're both alive, and the three mesmerized stallions are out of the picture. With Tox gone, Melrose's mind starts to clear. The enchantment fading along with the adrenaline in her blood. She gasps for breath, sitting herself back on her haunches. "Oh stars. I... I can't believe I..." She stares wide-eyed at Chopsticks. "And Deep Currents! He... he's..." "He's gone!” Chopsticks shouts. Bellows really. Melrose cringes sharp at the rebuke, while she continues, "He's gone what were you thinking!? You just stood there and—" Chopsticks trails off, suppressing a sniffle as her panic works its way to the surface. "I-I'm sorry, I..." Melrose drops off quickly as she realizes how pointless her apology is. "What were you thinking, Mel, huh!? We can't just leave these three here! They'll starve or get eaten! So now we have to drag them back, except we can't, because when they wake up they might try to kill you and eat you! How screwed up is that!? She was right there, Mel! This horrible, unreal thing, and you call just stood there! You stood there and—" "I know. I know!" Melrose shouts back, holding her own head in her hooves. Finally, Chopsticks breaks down, starting to sniffle and shake uncontrollably. "I know." Chopsticks needs a moment, trying to collect herself and failing. She can't stop the tears or the shaking, but she makes herself stand up. "Well forget it! I'm going back to the conservatory." Melrose looks down at her hooves. "You can't,” she replies, weak and quiet. “I know, okay? This is scary, and hopeless, and a ton of danger. But... Scales and them need help," she says, motioning to the unconscious stallions. "And Deep Currents. And even this moon princess." She looks to Chopsticks. "We gotta. Even if it looks hopeless... we still gotta." Chopsticks looks at Melrose, shaking from head to hoof, a shivering that won't stop. "Fine. Fine!" she shouts at last, gathering up two of the unconscious stallions, dragging them along as she beats her wings. "Fine just shut up and lets go! Sing the stupid song my throat hurts." "Thank you," Melrose says quietly, eyes still downcast. Grabbing the remaining stallion and the unicorn abandoned by Tox, she heads up to the front and sings. The world around them starts to darken as they walk, and it is not long before they see their first pony warriors. In the distance, they can see a flight of pegasus knights, most of them already in chains. The mares are screaming for the others to snap out of it, while the stallions cheerfully chain themselves up, letting themselves be lead away by a horde of vicious dog-beasts. Then there are trees, and they lose sight of the ponies, though the smell of the dog-beasts remains. In fact, it grows stronger. They pass through dark woods, among terrible monsters, so close to them that they can smell the creatures’ vile breath, and Melrose doesn't dare sing the song louder than a whisper. But sing it she does. Until a castle becomes visible in the distance. And gates. Their path takes them down into a ravine, to a little statue of a pony nestled into the rock. And when Melrose sings to it, it slides away to reveal a tunnel beyond. Earlier today, Melrose saw an impossible mare. A deer. A thing of transcendent beauty. Now, she sees another impossible mare. A pegasus with a unicorn's horn. A mare with a dark blue coat, and a mane made of stars. One greeted her with scorn, and indifference, but this one greets her with a sad smile. "Come in," she says. "Quickly, you mustn't linger outside." Melrose moves along without much of a reply. She walks with the unbalanced urgency of a weary pony who's nearly at their rest. The Princess of the Moon gestures her inside, and the door shuts behind them. "I heard you as you approached. I am sorry for what you suffered, but you must come with me. We have little time, and much to discuss."
Introductions: Amethyst Shard Amethyst Shard Character Name: Amethyst Shard Player Name: Ether Echoes Race: Crystal Pony Mare Class: Vitalist 5 Role: Healing Amethyst Shard opens her eyes. She hasn't slept in a long time. A time so long she cannot remember when it began, and the time before it is sometimes hazy and unclear. Sleep is a thing for flesh, and she is something else. She could work all day and all night, if she wished. Or play. She has done both. But lately, she often finds herself using that time to lie in bed. Not to rest, but simply because there doesn't seem to be anything else worth doing. To let things pass. She heard the villagers outside awhile ago. Raising up quite a ruckus. Shouting something about a princess and dreams. They didn't bother her about it though. Nopony ever visits. And she hasn't dreamed in a long time either. She's still staring at the ceiling when there comes a knock at the door. It has been so long since such a thing came—and so deep is her malaise—that she thinks she imagined it at first. But then it comes again. Polite, but insistent. This time she knows it is real, but simply feels no inclination to answer. A third come it comes, later in the day, perhaps. Maybe this time she'll answer is. Amethyst Shard: "It opens," she answers, surprised momentarily that her voice still works. A fourth time, the knock comes. Her caller does not speak. Not that she's in any state to receive guests, dusty as her cabin is. She can grow the strangest things out of crystal, not merely carving objects, but growing whole plants or creatures in her own glittering image. But now, her creatures are still, and her creations lie covered in a fine layer of neglect. But her guests seem determined to be received. Amethyst Shard sighs, expelling air from her lungs. She gets to her feet, still surprised that her limbs creak. They don't make the crackling noise they used to, that hum of microfractures which signalled glass and crystal bending and rehealing. She works the kinks out from unused tendons and walks over to the door. Her mane hangs long, almost to the floor, having not touched a razor since her return, each strand as smooth as glass wire. Amethyst pushes the door open. On the other side of the door sands a strange creature. It resembles a dog that walks on two legs, its forepaws elongated and twisted to form grasping limbs. Its face is ugly and squat, as that of an ill-bred mutt, and its teeth jut out in the most ill-kept condition. It would look like an altogether barbaric sort of creature if not for its dignified stance and upright bearing, conveying an air of civility. Two of its kind stand behind it, and all three wear vests that match their slate-grey coats. "Pardon me," the one at the door says. "We are seeking the mare of the house." "She stands before you," Amethyst says, her voice low with a faint ring. "A pleasure to meet you," says the first of the dog creatures. The Alpha of the pack, as it were. "Our master has bade us present our services to you as a gift, to ensure all is prepared and ready for your fiance's arrival." Her eyes, which had been wandering, now focus on the leader with a hardness they haven't had in a goodly while. Gem hard. "I am unbetrothed." "That is so," Alpha agrees, maintaining his polite tone. "For it would hardly be proper for you to be betrothed to a creature you have not yet met. But you shall meet him soon, and as a gesture of courtesy, we are to ensure you and your dwelling are presentable for your first encounter. As as he is the creature you will one day marry, it would therefore be correct to say you shall soon meet your fiance." "I have had a lover. I shall not again." The fog flees from Amethyst’s mind as she regards them, her attention now wholly theirs. "What is this talk? What are you?" "It is not the place of a servant to correct a lady," Alpha says, with an apologetic bow of his head. "Nonetheless. We are servants. And we are here." "Serve elsewhere. This home is empty." "Then the mare of the house refuses her gift?" Amethyst Shard feels a bit of her old self come through as she snorts. "Look inside. What do you see? Dust and dry crystal. No one lives here, so there's no one to accept your gift." "Begging the mare's pardon," the diamond dog says, after a moment, "but as I shall surely be lashed for failure to complete my appointed task, it behooves me to point out that there is also no one to refuse it." "You want it, then?” Amethyst asks. “You're welcome to it." "Very well." He gives a graceful bow, and the other two hurry forward. Both nod their heads to her, but their motions are more quick than deferent. Firm paws push her back and guide her haunches to the floor, while another set examine her mane and the crystal fibers therein. When one pulls open his vest and it seems for a moment to be full of knives, Amethyst has a moment's cause to suspect foul intentions. But then, the knives are revealed to be scissors, the second one—call him Beta—carefully straightening out her mane as the third wipes away the fine layers of dust, setting the house in order with an unnatural speed and finesse. "Get your claws off me," Amethyst says, disgusted. Her objections only result in her being held surprisingly forcefully. The three of them trained well in the use of joints and pressure to disable a pony without allowing them to struggle. "Brush the pre-tty poh-nee's mane and Comb the pre-tty poh-nee's tail, Pet the pre-tty poh-nee's coat and Keep the pre-tty poh-nee hale." "I am warning you," she growls. "You want the house, fine—leave me out of it. I am nobody's mare, not anymore." "Not anymore, no," Alpha agrees. "But we are here on behalf of your future, not your past, and our master would hardly force you to suffer the indignity of meeting that future unpresentable." He looks to the others. "Continue." The other two resume their work. Her mane is cut, her coat cleaned, all while she is held immobile. Three sets of powerful limbs grip her face to hold her perfectly still so they can pluck her eyebrows, polishing her face until it's translucent. "Shine the pre-tty poh-nee's hooves and Braid the pre-tty poh-nee's hair, Dress the pre-tty poh-nee well and Give the pre-tty poh-nee care." Amethyst Shard growls, struggling in their grip uselessly. Damn her pathetic, delicate limbs. She used to pound creatures like this into the ground for fun. But that's not what she is, not anymore. She's something else, now, something strange and exotic. "Fine. Maybe I can't fight anymore..." Her eyes light up and a vaguely equine shape made of sharp planes and angles appears before her out, all hard light. "But they can." Her astral summon leaps at her attackers, scattering them about the room, but it fails to actually hit any of them. Amethyst is free, but as her construct bucks, kicks, and slices, she sees that the three dogs are easily able to dodge its attacks. Despite that however, they seem unwilling to actually hit back. And so they're driven about the room, and away from her, giving her a moment to breathe. That suits her fine. Hurting things... no longer interests her as might it once have. Amethyst Shard looks through the open door, seeing what's going on outside. "Nothing," would be the short answer. The chaos is as it always is. But as her construct herds the three dogs around the room, she does see a point in the chaos that isn't shifting with the rest. A constant shape in the distance, brown and blue, vaguely in the outline of a pony. It seems to be watching the house. For a few moments, Amethyst isn't sure what to think. Part of her just wants to slam the door shut and pretend it never happened. Let them come if they wanted, what does anything matter anymore? Except the dog-beasts were quite clear. They want her to wed. They want to defile the last happy memories she has left to her. Her mouth tightens into a hard line and she goes back in, blowing dust off nondescript items. A fine shirt of dark crystal likes. A spiny crown of milky-white. A few small personal effects, including a pink stone on a cord. She held it in her hoof, looking at it for a while—it was a cloudy, arguably ugly piece, one of the first she'd made. But she'd made it at his urging... his push to get her to open up, to test herself, instead of wallowing in her own pity. What irony. The dog creatures have managed to restrain her construct, but at this point, it's obvious they're loathe to actually harm it, and concerned that she'll just summon more if they try to restrain her. And so, they can do little but watch as she gathers her things and stalks outside, towards the figure in the distance. "You know, I learned how to do that to protect our child. Seems a waste here," Amethyst says over her shoulder. "But screw you lot." Taking the final insult, she lights a torch, and sends it spinning with her mouth into the thatch. "Wait!" Alpha shouts, but too late, as the thatch is set alight. Her eyes reflect the growing flames as the dry brush catches. "I take it back. You can't have that, either. That's the house we built together." The dogs leap into action, hurriedly moving to smother the flames, but as they do, the distant figure starts to approach. Their actions pause, and a mien of fear sweeps over the three of them. Quickly, they abandon their efforts and form an orderly line, ignoring the burning building behind them. The figure in the distance is also very strange, but in a different way from the dog-creatures. It is wrapped head to hoof in a heavy oilcloth shroud, covering it so completely that not a single inch of it can be seen all the way to the ground. Its body has the same general outline as a pony, but it is too big, and too lithe, and too tall, and emerging from either side of the cloth that covers its head are two magnificent, elegant antlers made of shining glass. As he draws closer, Amethyst can head his steps. It is a sound she is very familiar with. Crunching broken glass. The figure stops perhaps a dozen paces from the burning house, lifting its... head covering, to look at her. Amethyst Shard turns from the flames, tosses her head, and shifts her delicate legs. She feels alive again. It's an unwanted, unwilling life, but there it is all the same. "Are you the one who sent them?" "He is the sound of wind chimes in a hurricane," says the first dog. "He is the pure notes of a broken string," says the second. "He is the dirge of stained glass," says the third. "He is the Deer Whose Song Shattered the World," finishes the first. "And you have upset my bride," says the figure to the three. His voice is rough, and harsh, and the anger comes through clearly. "Go until we cannot see that you will not disturb us. Then beat yourselves." "Yes, Master," Alpha says, with just a hint of a cringe, and the three turn and walk off. It's only when the three are gone that the figure speaks again. "Please, forgive me my errors. I am Melos." "You're still making one,” retorts Amethyst. “Forgiveness requires stopping." Melos pauses, and the cowl nods. "It does," he agrees. His voice is softer now, though still rough and deeply scratchy. Full of odd sounds. "But I shall not have the first words I speak to my future bride be a lie, and what I have said is so, not a wish, but the unpolished truth. I do not doubt there is a way to polish that gem so it will not cause you pain, but I lack the understanding to create such a work." Amethyst Shard touches the pink stone hanging from her neck. "That was always your domain. So please, tell me how I may stop causing you pain." "I have loved, and lost,” says Amethyst. “I don't desire to love again. Begone, and you will stop causing me pain." "That is not within my power," Melos says, with a little shake of his head. "What has been said will be." Amethyst Shard shakes her head. "If that were the way things worked, then I'd be awash in earth pony stallions and still weigh twenty stone." Melos tilts his head a moment—his antlers moving in time. "It should not surprise me that you have had many suitors. Certainly you are worthy of such a thing. Yet I still feel a pang of jealousy." "Many suitors. One love.” She fixes him with a look. “You won't replace him." "...no," Melos says, after a noticeable pause. "No, I will not. But you will love again. May I approach?" She snorts. "No." "I know where he went." Melos says, after another time. "Your first love. And I know that you shall see him again." Her heart pounds. "What?" "He was broken and sent away. To the north. And to the end of the world. You will see him there, before we are wed, and it is by your will he will be restored." Melos speaks in a steady and even tone, tinged perhaps with sadness. Her lips open, then shut. The aching loneliness in her heart throbs, but each beat winds up a golden thread. A little, fluttering hint of hope. "A little tip... when you're wooing a mare, it's a good idea not to presume success. You could do to take a lesson from him. He built me up from nothing. For no other reason than because he didn't like seeing me down. And for that, I came to him. He's the only one I mean to wed." "I am not a builder, fair lady. I do not create, but destroy. And," Melos adds, "I do not presume, but merely state the world as I have observed it. But… It it pleases you, I shall take as many lessons from him as I am able. May I approach?" he repeats. "You don't seem bad, aside from that," she observes, but shrinks away. "I don't like being touched." "It was not my intention to touch you, good mare. But my vision is poor." The oilcloth over his face noticeably lacks eye holes. "And I should like to see you better." Amethyst Shard glances around. Nopony. Just them and the chaos. And of course, the burning building, which by now is getting rather warm on her rear. "Fine." He steps up towards her at a measured pace, the sound of broken glass carrying with every step. Amethyst feels her hairs stand on end at each time. That awful sound haunted her for so long… When he gets near her though, another sound joins it. This one she is also familiar with. The strange cracking that signals glass magically pulling together. The sound her body made after a part of her broke. Melos finally stops a few paces in front of her, keeping a respectful distance, waiting for that unnatural crackling to stop. And when it has stopped, he reaches up and pulls back his hood, revealing a head and a face made of beautiful glasswork. It's different from a pony’s face, long and slender, and his features are adorned with jewelry made of tuning forks and tiny wind chimes. His joints move smoothly, and when he lowers his head, the motion of glass-on-glass creatures a pure note. Like something rubbed against the top of an open wine glass. Melos draws a breath, and his eyes refocus on her. He takes a moment to stretch his jaw. Gather his thoughts. "My apologies for my earlier rudeness." Amethyst Shard watches in a weird mix of horror and fascination. "What are you?" "I am the Deer Whose Song Shattered the World," he says, and now his voice isn't scratchy or broken at all. It's pure, and sweet, and sad. "If you can forgive a... pretentious title." He smiles slightly at that, though it isn't a joyful smile. "And you are the pony who is going to put it back together. And when you do, yes. We will be wed. I mean this only as a statement of the future I have foreseen, and not to impose upon your person. I have never been wrong before, but perhaps there is a first time for everything." "I'm terrible at fixing things," says Amethyst. "Perhaps you will learn." Melos lifts his head to look at her burning house. "I really made a mess of this didn't I?" "I won't say it's the worst suit I've ever had." "I am not always... in order, mentally. I am a part of the world, you see. But you have fixed that, at least for the time being. So now, if you'll hear me, I think we should talk." "I don't know what you're talking about," she admits. "I'm not a smart pony. I bucked apples and then I bucked ponies and then things got weird. But fine, I can listen. Nothing else to do." "I am, as was said before, a deer, hailing from my herd's distant home of Deer na Nog. Almost an age ago, a great spirit of chaos drew us to this plane, and here we made our dwelling, and earned our names. But now, that age is coming to an end. And you have a part to play in its ending." Melos's antlers shimmer, and the fire starts to die down. He sinks to the grass, politely waiting for Amethyst to join him; Amethyst reluctantly does as well, her tail flicking to curl around her "Time as well as space were broken,” Melos continues, “by this spirit’s will and my singing, and a shard of me scattered into that time, when our age in this world will end. I saw you there, and myself. I saw you return to your people—to the other ponies who are crystal as you are. I saw you save them, and restore your first love. And then we were married. And I saw you return to Deer na Nog with me, before the world came to an end." She gives him a look. "And why in the heck would I do that?" "I am uncertain," Melos says. "When I am whole, I am in only a single place, and so now I cannot see what I have described. When I am shattered, my mind is split a thousand ways, and I am prone to severe errors in judgement… as you have seen." He smiles, and it elects a soft note in glass, his jewelry chiming. "But, I recall that you seemed pleased with my company." Amethyst Shard purses her lips. "I don't know about the future, either. Unless you're actually him, I don't think it's likely. Hell if I know." "Language." Melos rebukes, more surprised than judgemental. "I'm really salty, you may have noticed." "Burning down your house was a clue," Melos chuckles. "Perhaps then, if you think it unlikely, you'll indulge an old deer's delusions for the sake of other ponies you'll meet?" "I can listen,” Amethyst says. “I'll do that much." "I am... not sure how to tell the rest.” Melos admits, his slight frown electing a more dour note out of his frame. "I have seen pieces of your journey. That you will leave here to join Princess Luna in her castle. That you will journey across Equestria. That we will meet exactly three more times, before our final reunion. But I am not an oracle. And my motivations for being here are not as simple as a devotion to fate. If they were," he points out. "I would simply leave. Destiny is destiny after all. What's the sense in hurrying along what I believe to be pre-ordained?" "What is it, then?" "As I said, you seemed quite pleased with me in the end.” He pauses. “And... I with you. My kind and I broke this world, and I will not deny my name was well earned. But now it is broken. I am ready for what comes next." "Well, why'd you come here then?" she asks. "I wanted to see you," Melos says plainly. "Properly, that is." Amethyst Shard flicks her tail. "Well. I dunno how to take this. You came off at a bad start, honestly." "I saw you in a state. And thought... well.” He shakes his head. “My thoughts are often confused." "I'm awake now, in any case. Also I burned my house down so I can't go back to moping there." Amethyst sighs. "But now I know there's a hope. Far to the north, huh?" Melos nods. "With the other ponies who are like you. The ponies made of crystal, in their northern empire." "Never heard of it. But I guess that's where I'm going." "Yes, it... is." Melos catches himself. "If you'll forgive the presumption." "And where is this 'princess'? I don't get on much with unicorns.” Amethyst Shard rises to her feet and dusts herself off with a hoof. “I don't think they elect royals do they? Just seems like it's asking for trouble." "They do not. But she is not quite a unicorn." Melos gestures into the distance with his antlers. "You shall find her in the Everfree Forest, where my kin lay siege to her castle even now. Wandering the formless chaos, it shall take an eternity for you to find her. But in the chaos, that shall not trouble you overly. Walk until you see her and you will be there." "Great," she says, looking at him strangely. "Well. It was.. interesting meeting you, Melos. If we do end up married that'll be kinda weird. But I guess we'll see." Melos seems frozen with a terrible indecision. He clearly wants to reach out to her, yet at the same time, seems to understand why he shouldn't. Finally, with a note of breaking strain, like a colt proclaiming their love to their first crush, he blurts out: "Good luck." Amethyst Shard almost instinctively shrinks back. Just the memory of her skin… "Thanks." "I suppose you should... go now.” His joints sing as he rises—a beautiful tune that makes her body resonate in kind. "I'll... see you soon?" Amethyst Shard nods curtly, then steps off smartly. She's not as strong as she was, but her hooves still work. As she pulls away from him, his glass body starts to crack, and fracture, and he quickly restores the hood that hides his face. That sound continues as she steps away, playing at her ears, until she is finally lost to the distance. Then, she walks. And walks. How long she couldn't say. Possibly forever. She doesn't age after all, nor does she need to eat or rest. She encounters many things of note, but they are not the Princess she seeks, and so she keeps walking, through the random points of infinite space that surround her. Until, finally, having exhausted every point in the cosmos that is not her destination, there is only one place left for her to be. She is glad her memory at least is limited, because that sure sounds like it would be boring. And so she finds herself standing atop the battlements of a wind-swept castle, looking out between the crenelations at the horde that gathers below. A massive camp lit by firelight, in which monsters, and terrible beasts, and catapults can all be seen. "Intruder!" shouts a voice just behind her, hooves scrambling all around her. And when she looks back, there are a number of black-coated mares in silver armor pointing spears in her direction. Amethyst Shard looks back at them, then at the sharp points of the spears. "I've come to see Princess Luna. You lot from her?" "Who are you and how did you get up here!?" one of them shouts, evidently not in a question-answering mood. "I'm Amethyst Shard, and I walked. It took me a very, very long time, but apparently you can get just about anywhere if you're patient enough." But as she does, one of the others tugs at her tail. "She doesn't have any dreams," the second one whispers. "And look! She's all shiny." Amethyst Shard looks down at her coat, lifting a hoof to inspect it. She is indeed all shiny. Crystally, even. "Huh. Look at that," she says, a sort of dull marvel. She touches the stone at her throat. "Like it was before, only not so... bad." "I think she's a crystal pony," the second guard whispers. "Princess Luna will want to know about this." Gradually, the first guard lowers her spear. "I guess I am," Amethyst agrees. "Very well," says the first guard. "Come with us." "Lead on." And the guards lead Amethyst inside.
Introductions: Ruby Blaze Ruby Blaze Character Name: Ruby Blaze Player Name: A Dragon Dreaming Race: Earth Pony Class: Dragon Warrior (Fighter) 5 Role: Bruiser Ruby Blaze opens his eyes. It would not be inaccurate to say that his dreams were strange last night. A mare with wings and a horn, and a mane like stars, calling him to join her at her enchanted castle to do battle with a great evil. She was beautiful, and regal, and even upon waking, her words ring clear in his mind. It's just that, well, his dreams are often strange. And sometimes involve strange mares. It's a normal reaction to never having met a real mare—or so his dad keeps telling him. He has met greycoated mares of course, but they aren't real ponies, and all they do is lie to him and torment him. Not that that always matters. Puberty is stupid. Talon got awesome fire-breath and a spiked tail, and all Ruby got was a deeper voice and issues with girls. Still, this dream did seems sharper than the rest, and it doesn't retreat into the fog of sleep upon waking like most of his dreams do. His dad's told him about winged and horned mares before. Well, one mare. Celestia. Maybe that's who he was dreaming about. In any case, he's awake now. And his dad and brother will probably be waking up soon. Time to get up. Ruby Blaze stretches where he lies, legs reaching for the ceiling of the dragon den, and then, with a heave, he rights himself. A twist of his neck and a shaking of his coat to dislodge the little bits of earth that always come along from his own personal bed of loam, and he's pretty much up. Might go the river for a swim later. But that would be later. He leaps down off the shelf of rock, hooves scattering the gems beneath, and heads for the main den. The world around him glitters and shines, the floor covered in a carpet of gems and golden coins. Ruby knows for a fact that his dad can tell when so much as a single coin in the hoard is disturbed, though they are the least of the treasures here. The real wealth of the pile are those items upon which Ladon sleeps. The bells of Starswirl the Bearded, the Cage that Held the Sun, the long range pony shaver. All are devices of great and potentially terrible power, left to Ladon by Ruby's grandmother. Celestia. He's never met her. But he hears she's very nice. Ladon twitches slightly, when Ruby enters the room. A great wyrm, he lies curled about the center pile of his hoard, resting his body on top of it and wrapping his tail around its edge. His scales are a deep, burnt green that transitions well into the off-yellow of his claws and frill. Nearby, on another left like Ruby's, Talon sleeps. Ruby's little brother isn't exactly little anymore—still in the middle of his own growth spurt, he stands a good head and shoulders above his older sibling. Luckily, while he's gotten bigger, he's also gotten less stupid. Okay a little less stupid. Outside the cave, the sun spins like a top through the sky, but Ruby has a good sense of how long he's been asleep. It's just about that time. Ladon twitches another claw again, always slow to rouse. His neck cracks as he lifts it up, letting out a yawn and a blast of morning breath that could—and does—corrode the rock of the cavern. Ruby Blaze grimaces. "You need to eat more emeralds, dad." "Mmm. And are you offering to go and dig them up?" Ladon replies, still sleepy, a little burst of fire around his teeth cleansing them of any offending matter. That sound is enough to wake up the others present—Talon, Viper, and little Scale. "Nah." "Mmmph. What a lazy child I've raised," he chides gently. His tail sweeps across the room as he rises, digging a furrow in the little layer of dirt. He stretches, much like Ruby, the loud cracking of his joints awaking the lazier of his sons. "You know, back in my day, your grandmother made me dig for every coin in this hoard myself." "Exactly. If I got the emeralds for you, I'd just be stepping all over her lesson." "And how do you expect to have a hoard of your own with that attitude?" Ladon asks, though his steps are taking him towards Scale. The little one is always slow to rouse, and sometimes needs a nudge. "By digging it up." He taps a hoof to the ground. "Also maybe get some from diamond dogs as punishment for trying to steal the stuff I dig up." Ladon gives Scale a firm poke with a claw, the not-quite-baby dragon responding by letting out a little puff of fire and curling tighter into a ball. 'G'way,' he grumbles, but Ladon is not to be discouraged. “I've talked with you about that sort of reasoning," Ladon says, with a bit of genuine rebuke in his tone. It's hardly unheard of for dragons to 'appropriate' gems from other races, particularly Diamond Dogs. "But, I suppose you're old enough to make your own decisions. You should start getting ready to go." "Go?" Talon asks, clearly not following. "Go?" Ruby echoes "Go?" Viper throws in quickly. Just to not be left out. Hurrying to the center of the room to beat Talon there also helps. Ruby half rolls his eyes at Viper. "You didn't have odd dreams tonight, Ruby?" Ladon asks, as he finally manages to nudge Scale up, the little dragon yawning as he climbs to his feet. Like Viper, he's still young enough to prefer his hind legs. Talon in is starting to favor all-fours. "Your grandmother said you'd probably be hearing from your great aunt.' He blinks. Great aunt? Oh right. Grandmother had a sister. "Wings and a horn, with a flowing, starry mane." Not that he'd ever seen the stars outside of dreams. "Yes, that's her," Ladon nods. "I'm sure I've told you your great aunt Luna is the guardian of dreams? "Go on, Scale. Get ready and eat your diamonds," he asides, nudging the little dragon along. He clearly doesn't want to go—wishing to remain a part of the conversation—but after a few more nudges towards the side chamber, he gets the hint that he's being dismissed. "She spoke to you, didn't she?" "She didn't speak to me," Talon says, frowning. Ruby doesn't grin. That would be way too obvious and kinda mean. Doesn't keep from smirking a little inside, though. "Your great-aunt probably didn't realize she should be speaking to you," Ladon says, in an even rumble—gesturing the three older children around into one space. "She never kept up with me like your grandmother did. No. Her message was for all ponies. Did you hear it, Ruby?" "Yes." He draws himself upward a bit—a rigid stance, head held high, tail held just so—proclamation pose. "Dink,” Talon says. "Stinkbreath," Ruby counters. "Talon, don't interrupt your brother," Ladon rebukes. Talon grumbles. He doesn't remember all of the speech. But he remembers enough. "Discord, who shattered the world and drowned it in chaos, lies trapped in stone, bound there by the power my sister and I wield, and so you are set free. "But the creatures of his chaos beset our castle, laying siege to it from all directions, and so I call for aid. Come to me, ponies! Rise up and fight for your future!" He relaxes. "There was more, I think, but that's the important bit." "That is the important part," Ladon agrees. With a gesture to Talon and Viper he adds, "And that message was for you two as well, even if your great aunt didn't know to deliver it to you. "Your grandmother and great aunt have decided that the time has come for the chaos to end. That means Equestria going back to the way it was before. No more monsters, no more greycoats. And they need our help." "So we're going!?" Viper blurts out quickly. Talon rolls his eyes. "We will be helping them, yes. Viper, you will be staying behind to watch over Scale and the hoard," before Viper can object—and it's clear he's about too—Ladon silences him with a firm strike of a claw on the stone. "And you are staying because you are old enough that I trust you with Equestria's greatest treasures and your /little brother/! It is an enormous responsibility and I will not have you shirking it." Viper is cowed by the preemptive display, finally grumbling, "Yes, dad." "Talon and Ruby—you two will come with me." Ruby Blaze nods. Chaos creatures. It's not like he hasn't tangled with them before, really. Greycoats, diamond dogs, other things—you'll run into them sooner or later if you go outside. But he's never gone looking for them, or gone looking to fight them, or gone looking to fight an army of them. His eyes shift to Dad's hoard. He didn't exactly have scales of his own. "Yes, Ruby," Ladon answers the question Ruby didn't ask. "It's your grandmother's treasure to give, but I think she'd approve. Don't weigh yourself down with a ton of metal. It'll do more harm than good. That goes for you as well, Talon." With a grin, he dives in. He knows exactly what he's looking for, too. Dad wasn't always on the hoard, after all. When he comes back out of the hoard, he's got four different things: on his hoof, a boot made for war, burnished bronze, almost golden in color. It matches the armor that he's already wriggling himself into, light plates that cover his chest and his back, held together by finely worked chain. The shield, too, is a match, a small, light thing that fits snugly to his leg, offering a small bit of protection if you know how to use it. And he did. Because of playing catch the fire with Talon. And finally, a belt. Just a normal belt. Except it meant he could actually shift the boulders at the den's entrance on his own instead of needing help. Ladon puts away a few of the truly dangerous items himself—the things he dares not leave unattended even for a moment. The cursed artifacts, the dread amulets, and much to Ruby's disappointment, the goggles that give him laser eye beams. Overall though, Ladon can't help but show a note of pride, when he inspects his eldest son's selection, examining the gear Ruby has picked, and after a time, finds no cause to object. Talon, for his part, takes very little. Though his wings have come in, he's not yet comfortable flying under any weight, and so he takes only an enchanted helmet, and guards for his claws. "Very good, both of you,” Ladon says. "Take a moment to yourselves. Clean up, get ready. It may be some time before we are back. I should talk to Scale before we go. Come find me when it's time." Ladon rumbles away to speak at length with his youngest son, the three elders left to ready themselves. "This is so not fair," Viper grumbles, tossing a coin at the hoard angrily. "Shut up, dolt. It's not a contest," Talon says. "It's a big deal. It's dangerous." "Yeah, we already discussed it, remember? And seeing as the last time got me a fire ruby butt stamp, I don't wanna do it again. Besides," Ruby says, waving a hoof at the hoard. "You're not looking at the benefits." "Like getting to take care of Scale?" Viper grumbles. "Hey, maybe you'll get your own magical butt stamp. Did you think of that?" Talon chuckles as he ducks another thrown rock from Viper. Ruby Blaze rolls his eyes again. "Come on, Viper, put some thought into it. Dad's not gonna be here." He points at the hoard again. "Like, he's not gonna be here." "Yeah, but... he's taking all the cool toys with him..." "He's taking all the toys that would blow up the world with him. There's still plenty of cool stuff left," Talon says. "Yeah. Like the one that lets you fling ice around. Also, the ones that blow up the world aren't really that fun to play with," Ruby sas. Viper drums his claws reluctantly. "I mean... I guess." "Plus you'll only have to share the tasty gems two ways," Ruby says. "But... you guys'll be gone." "Relax. We'll be back in no time. I'll watch out for Ruby," Talon says. Ruby Blaze blows a raspberry. "More like I'll watch out for you." "Shut up, dink. I'm serious." Talon snorts smoke. "So am I," Ruby replies. And, just to make a point, snorts smoke as well. "Yeah, I know you are, and I know dad's bringing you and stuff, but—" Talon pauses, seeming to realize this argument will go nowhere. "Forget it. I'm going to neaten up and then get dad." "Alright." There's not much to clean up, in truth. Talon mostly just straightens his sleeping ledge and then gives their dad some time. Viper works his way up to the horde, looking downright nervous as he tries it out. Talon gives Ruby a few looks during this period, though he says nothing. And eventually, he wanders off to the other room, returning with their dad some time later. "Ruby." Ladon spreads his wings and shimmies down to the ground, the tough wing fabric forming a rough ramp. Ruby Blaze didn't have much to clean up, either. Get the loam bed contained again, fire the edges of the shelf, and a very, very light firing of his own self to take the place of a proper river bath. He hops onto the proffered wing, makes his way up to his dad's back, and takes a seat, just behind where Ladon's neck starts. "If we cannot be back soon, Viper, I shall have your great aunt contact you. Keep your brother safe." Ladon orders, and Viper nods. A moment later, Ladon spreads his wings, and a few great beats lift him off into the sky. Talon follows a moment later, his own wingbeats faster and lighter. And off they go into the floating islands and the chaos beyond. Ruby has no idea how his father and brother navigate this swirling mess. Ladon has told him it is an instinctive sense—a natural means of knowing the way. Ruby sometimes feels he's inherited this sense, for it often seems he can navigate the islands better than the chaos beasts or greycoats. But at other times like this, he is wholly lost, and must rely on his relatives to navigate. Talon isn't helping that feeling. Normally, when he and his father fly, Talon keeps ahead, showing how much he's grown by flying a few beats in front of his father. Now though, he lags behind, flying just behind and under Ladon's wing. Where he can keep a closer eye on Ruby from below. The journey is long, but largely uneventful—few creatures desire to mess with a fully grown wyrm. And eventually, Ruby spots something in the distance. A floating island that is much, much larger than the others, covered in a dark forest. "This is it," Ladon rumbles. "I'll try to fly above them, but keep careful. I don't know if they can fly or not as well." "Right,” Ruby says. "I've got your back, Dad." Talon snorts. "That was super lame.” "Now now. You're about to meet other ponies for the first time," Ladon chides, grinning a toothy grin. "You'll need to be ready to pun at a moment's notice." "Greycoats never pun," Ruby remarks. "That's because they've forgotten how to have fun." Talon rolls his eyes. "Ugh." As they draw closer, more details can be made out. A great, looming castle stands in the exact center of the island. A menacing mass of dark stone, gargoyles, bridges and twisty towers. Surrounding it, a camp can be seen, distant firelight in a rough circle around the castle. They're too high up to make out individual creatures, but they can distantly see the catapults and siege towers. Still, there's nothing in the air that they can observe, and it looks like this will be an easy approach. Then, on the wind, Ruby hears a voice. Masculine, rough. Scratchy. Clinking. Carried from far away. "The pony who controls the sun, Calls her child of tooth and scale, She thinks by fire, battle's won, But her fires both shall fail, Three have come now to her aid, Alas to fall now to a curse, Into the deer's trap they have strayed, A sudden spell—the world reversed!" Around them, suddenly, violently, the world whirls. Now, the floating island is above them, facing down, and under gravity's pull, objects are tumbling down towards them. Rocks, and arrows, and more. "Oh..." Talon manages, as the occasional stray projectiles multiply into a vast cloud, that seems to fill all available space. "Ruby, hang on, now!" Ladon roars. Ruby Blaze narrows his eyes and tightens his grip. Ladon twists in mid-air until he's upside down, his body shielding Ruby from the rain of steel and stone. "Talon, under me!" he orders, and Talon quickly obeys, the two brothers left side by side. Ladon tries to avoid the cloud, moving to where it is thinnest, but even Ruby can see that this is no mundane barrage. The projectiles multiply, twist through the air to follow their target. And some are not mere stones or arrows, but monsters, hurtling themselves at their prey. The arrows come first. They shatter harmlessly on contact with Ladon's diamond-hard scales, and from Ruby's position on his back, they sound more like hailstones than the noises of battle. Clanging, clinking, rapping on the hard surface. But then come the ballista bolts. Now, Ladon jerks with the impact, trying to dodge left and right, but grunting in pain every time he fails. For a moment, there's a break in the impacts, and Ruby dares to peek around to see what's coming. He sees a boulder. A boulder with two little gems in its surface that look oddly like eyes, and protrusions that resemble the strangest outstretched arms. Then the rock elemental hits. It's weight is enough to slam Ladon back against Ruby's head, dazing him and knocking him away. Ladon grabs it, and a mid air grapple starts, but every blow from it's hewn fists weakens Ruby's grip. One blow. Two. Three. His hooves slipping. And then he's in the air on his own. The most confusing part of this is whether or not he's falling away from the ground or towards it. He's not entirely sure. "Ruby!" Ladon shouts, reaching out for his son. But the the earth elemental headbutts him with such staggering force that Ruby feels the crack resonate through his torso. And the claw misses. Ruby isn't sure if he's falling up, or down, but he is definitely falling. Arrows and bolts and monsters and other things whizzing around him as the whistle of air in his ears grows to a roar. Up, down, anti-spinward—doesn't really matter. He twists himself around and spreads his legs, putting his full profile against the direction of the air rushing past. When first he fell, he was spinning out of control—tumbling through the air. But spreading his legs and increasing his profile steadies him, and lets him see what lies below. He is falling down. Into the forest below. There were exactly two options here: he would survive, or he wouldn't. Either way, he'd only find out when he actually hit. It's not the first time he's fallen from a height—though the other time it wasn't nearly so high and he'd jumped, but he remembers how the landing went. How he'd managed to stick the landing without hurting his legs. He leans forward, just a bit—enough to start moving forward instead of just down. And as the canopy nears, he shifts his legs in front of him, readying for impact. It seems, in his calculations, when he determined he would either survive or not survive, he made a slight error, but he neglected a third possibility. That he would survive, but it would really, really hurt. His hooves strike ground, and knees bend. The force pitches him forward, but that was the whole point. He hadn't expected to bounce. When he comes back down from the rebound, about ten feet from where he first hit the ground, he rolls instead of bouncing—legs tucked into his sides—and rolls right smack into a tree trunk. He should probably just… lie there for a bit. Until he can see again. Lying still for awhile. Yeah. That sounds good. Distantly, through the fog, he hears shouting. Growling. Talon's voice. "Come on, stupid!" Claws grabbing him. Wings beating. A cry of pain. Then he feels a bottle shoved into his mouth, the bitter potion within washing away some of that fog, leaving him awake—if still covered in bruises. "Murgh." He blinks, looking around. "Cut the flesh and break the bone, Of Celestia's lesser fire, His last free flight he has flown, By chaos now, lights his own pyre." The same scratchy voice as cursed them before. When Blaze comes to his senses, the first thing he sees is Talon standing guard over him, snapping and breathing fire at the wall of shadowy monsters that surrounds them. Something is wrong though. His pose is wrong. He's holding his wings too tightly. And then Ruby notices the jagged piece of glass sticking out of each of his wings joints. "I said GET UP stupid!" Talon lets out a blast of fire that lights up the whole of the night, briefly showing their attackers to be a horde of diamond dogs, so vast as to seem without number. He stares at his brother's wings for a moment, and then he's on his hooves, turning to face the horde. He can see that they've landed in the middle of the camp. The castle is just ahead of them, but so is the main body of the attacking army. "Ruby, listen. I'm going to throw you." Talon bats away an advancing dog with his spiked tail, but it's clear that the only thing stopping the horde from overwhelming them is the individual members desire not to be first. His head snaps around so fast it almost makes him dizzy. "No you're not. That'll leave you here all alone." "Just do what I say for once in your stupid life!" "I'm not going to leave you!" There's a whistle in the air. An off-key note. And from some unseen source in the shadows, comes another shard of glass. This one hits Talon in the knee, bringing him staggering towards the ground. "Aaagh!" "Hey!" Ruby shouts, and breathes in, chest expanding. He looses his own flame in the direction the glass shard came from. With every injury inflicted by their unseen ally, the horde of cowardly dogs comes closer. All are armed and armored with the crudest weapons, their ankles and wrists topped by crystalline restraints. They didn't seem to know Ruby could breathe fire though, and that surprise sends them scampering back. Buying time. "Ruby, I'm not asking! You're going now!" Talon reaches down to grab his little brother with his good talon, pressing his size advantage. He's not quite big enough to pick up a pony with ease, but he's not the little drake Ruby used to be able to wrestle either. "Wha- hey, stop!" As soon as the horde sees Talon too distracted to fight, they all rush forward. And Talon throws. Ruby only has time to loose another blast of flame, aimed at the approaching dogs. Ruby flies through the air for the second time today, and for the second time he's sent spinning. He doesn't see where his blast of flame lands, though he thinks he hit his target. All he can sense is the rush of air around him, and a few moments later, his impact on water. He landed in one of the pools that supplies the castle moat, a few hundred yards from the camp. And already, the dogs are rushing after him. Muttering imprecations at his stupid brother, though not out loud, because water, he strikes out for shore. By the time he reaches the opposite shore, he's closer to the castle than the camp, and the dogs seem ill-inclined to put themselves in reach of those battlements. Back from whence he came, he can't see any trace of his brother or the fight. It's all the same blur of wood and barking dogs and firelight. Ahead of him, at the end of a long, twisting trail, stands the castle gates. For a long moment, he stands there, facing the dogs, the camp, the wood—looking for any sign of his brother, or his father. But there are none. And much as he WANTS to charge the camp, to set the whole thing ablaze and let the fire sweep away everything that isn't his family, he knows that's not what would happen. So instead, he narrows his eyes. "Hey, you rhyming glass-throwing coward! I figure if you can talk from nowhere, you can hear from where your worthless butt is hiding! "So hear this! I'm going to find you, and when I do, I'm going to make you eat your own glass." And then he turns up the trail. It is a long walk, up to the grand castle gates. From the dogs reluctance to come this far, he can only assume the battlements are crewed, but he sees nopony there. To all exterior inspection, the castle is abandoned. And yet, when he approaches its gates, they open. And before him stands the pony with a mane made of stars, the wings of a pegasus and the horn of a unicorn. A strange expression upon her face. "Your father," she greets him, "yet lives. As does your brother. But neither are here. More than that though, I cannot say." Ruby blinks a few times. His vision had gotten blurry on the way up. After a pause, she adds: "You are injured... nephew. Please, come with me." "Alright." Behind them, as they walk inside, the doors shut.
Introductions: Drawn Masquerade Drawn Masquerade Character: Drawn Masquerade Player Name: Matt Race: Unicorn Stallion Class: Wizard (Shadow Illusionist) 5 Role: Trickery, Face Special Note: The shadow illusionist progression allows Dawn to make illusions that feel solid—and even have a little weigh to them. Drawn opens his eyes. Probably, he thinks sluggishly.... Assumptions like that are how mistakes get made, after all. All he can really state with confidence is that he perceives himself to have opened his eyes. More than that, he cannot be certain of. Through rigorous examination of past data, as well as the general traits of chaos and illusion magic, he can determine that is likely his eyes are actually open. But that's just the most likely outcome. Still, in lieu of additional evidence, it seems he'll have to proceed with that assumption. Today, after all, is a big day. He can't get too stalled up by the little things. Today is the day he saves the world. Drawn Masquerade looks around in his newly determined "open eyes" state He's in one of his workshops. The latest one. Whatever changes have occurred when he wasn't observing it—and according to his current understanding of chaos magic, any non-observation of a room induces at least some changes—are not visually obvious. It appears just as he left it last night. It's made from the remains of some pony's house. They weren't around, not even as a greycoat, and he needed space to complete his studies. It sufficed. Drawn Masquerade gingerly steps out of bed, waits a few moments… and breathes a sigh as the floor continues to exist. Maybe those calculations were wrong and the instability would be two steps to the left actually… Well… no matter. He goes to the workbench stepping around the mushroom field, tame miniature elephant ranch and the pegasus landing ramp that made up his bedroom. The light was so bright today.... He sighs as he scans his calculations again. No, that's right. The whole house was going to move soon. Regrettably so. He'll have to move quickly. The room continues to exist in a meaningful way—at least as far as he perceives it—while he sets about his morning routine. Washing up, feeding the tiny elephants, acknowledging the constitutional legitimacy of the mushrooms’ breakaway republic. It's almost a routine by now. A fact which, while seemingly minor, is ultimately what lead him here. After all, all things exist within chaos. Therefore, the odds of finding any one thing by random chance are functionally zero. And yet he found his house. From that, one can conclude that his motions are not random. That his natural magic gives him some ability to move himself to a specific point. Or to move points towards him. And since all things exist within this swirling mess that was once reality, that should make it possible for him to call any object to himself. Any creature. To make the things he perceives real. Realish. To search through all the world, for whatever it is will set the world right. Precisely what that thing is is up to him. But that shouldn't matter too much. In theory. Drawn Masquerade begins to pack up again. How many times was that now? Four, twelve, sixty eight? It was so hard to keep track. His spellbook and rod went quickly into his mostly prepared satchel which he slung over his shoulder. Never know when you need to leave in a hurry when the continuum catches up to you. Where to next...? Well, his attempts to summon a useful building that could provide shelter were successful. Perhaps his next attempt should be more ambitious. Drawn hasn't found a theoretical limit on this ability yet. Save his own powers of concentration. But those should suffice to set the world right. If he summons the right thing. Creates the right thing. Perhaps an artifact of harmony and order. Or a pony who knows more than him. Or a book, full of the knowledge he needs to fix things. Drawn Masquerade sighs… routine was nice but it wasn't going to get him anywhere… time to try something else. He tugs on the fabric of the maybe-never-was and the could-have been to try and directly pull himself to the center of a calm place. Maybe he would get lucky. Or maybe another bottomless pit. A calm place. That's a tricky illusion. He can't make anything vanish after all, and the swirling world around him is anything but calm. But he should be able to conjure some obstructing objects. Like... a stone floor! That's a good start. And walls. And a ceiling. Drawn Masquerade looks around at the new home… seventeen, no wait, four walls! That is a promising start! A ceiling, good good… And a Floor! This was going to be good! Not even a single spacial anomaly either! Well… except for that high ceiling and those thrones… those were certainly odd. Drawn Masquerade scans around for a moment before nodding.., Yes this will do. Now… for the real trick… Calm in chaos to make the chaos come in and stay still for a moment. He closes his eyes. Maybe. Time for this to get interesting. It's a tricky thing. He can't calm the chaos directly, only draw it in. Fool it into an orderly shape. Maybe that's why this is all part of the illusion school instead of conjuration. That's a question for him to sort out another time though. For now, his eyes shut, he takes a breath. And gradually, he begins to feel cold stone under his hooves. "Ah! Master Drawn, so good to see you again," says a mare he has never heard before. Oh! Drawn Masquerade opens his eyes! Maybe. When he opens his eyes, the hall around him is populated. A mare with a blue coat and a shimmering starlit mane sits upon one of the thrones. She has the horn of a unicorn and the wings of a pegasus, spread wide behind her, and around him, the hall is filled with soldiers. Strange soldiers they are, appearing as mares made of shadow, without cutie marks and clad in silver armor. But there they are. Drawn Masquerade stares intently at the figures in front of him. "There is a 72% chance that you are not in fact real. Or… that you are unreal. Or maybe real. Are you in fact, maybe potentially unreal in a very real way?" "I'd forgotten your clever little word games," the creature upon the throne says, in a somewhat fond manner. "I fear that we may not have time to indulge in them now however. Though if I had to guess..." Princess Luna mulls it over a moment. "I suppose I would say I am exactly as real as you are." "Well you are ruining my calm place,” he says. :If you could kindly please go elsewhere to be as real as you wish I would be most appreciative." Drawn Masquerade catches up to the conversation. "Erm… do you know me? Or do I know you? Or are you me and therefore do I know myself? Hmmm… well… to assume you are real would mean to accept that you are an alicorn. To accept that would mean that… my word… you are a Princess!” "Maybe," he adds. Princess Luna laughs. It's not exactly a cheerful sound, but there is warmth in it. Familiarity. "Master Drawn, there are times when I am uncertain if you are brilliant or simply creatively addled. But I think," she replies, as she descends from the throne. "Therefore I am. And I think that I am glad to have you here, in this more dire hour." "Come, I will show you the battlements. There is much we should discuss." Drawn Masquerade follows Luna curiously. "Where am I? And why isn't the chaos seeping in? It should be here by now… calm never really lasts anymore.” As the two of them walk, Drawn catches strange things in the corner of his eyes. It's the guards silver armor. Whenever he walks past them, something flashes in it—a reflection that shouldn't be there, for it reflects nothing in the room. But quick as it comes, it's gone. "You are in the Everfree Forest,” Princess Luna answers, “and it is by my sister's will that the chaos holds no sway here. Under her direction, we found a number of powerful artifacts—the Elements of Harmony—and with them, vanquished Discord, the spirit of chaos behind this perversion. We were able to restore the forest to order as well, but before we could proceed any further... well." Princess Luna pushes a door open and the two step out into the battlements. In the dark forest beyond, a vast army can be seen gathering, preparing to lay siege to the castle. "There were other developments." "Oh dear,” Drawn says. “That is… many many ponies. This is NOT a calm place indeed! Why were you happy to have me here? This is… much more than I could even hope to twist away." "They are not just ponies, but an assortment of other creatures as well: diamond dogs, trolls, minotaurs, and most importantly, the Deer, a strange race from a distant land. They were the greatest surprise, and I shall have to tell you more of them soon. But for now, my sister and I need all the help we can get. Even if the odds seem impossible." "Well I suppose I could try and help… I was planning on saving the world today anyway. Is that the plan?" "Yes, Master Drawn." Princess Luna gives a sad sigh, though there's a faint smile in it. "That is the plan." "Then I accept. Maybe," Drawn answers. "Of course, then please—" "—come with me," says Princess Celestia. Now it is a white wing that turns to lead him into a castle of bright stone. The torches that crackled moments ago extinguished—unnecessary in the brilliant light of the day. Drawn isn't blinded. There's no flash. Not even any sense of disorientation, though he shies back instinctively It is as though he simply lost his train of thought, and now it is a larger, white-coated mare who leads him, her body adorned by a golden necklace, hoof boots, and a crown. Princess Celestia pauses, when she realizes she isn't being followed. Drawn Masquerade cracks an eye and looks around. "Why, Drawn," she asks, frowning. "What's wrong?" "Hmmm..." He begins walking again. Keeping an eye on the shining white mare, he peers intently around in the shining light noting the different decorations, architecture and especially the new mare in front of him. "So… saving the world then?" he prompts the mare cautiously. "Of course," she says, though her frown reveals that she can tell something is wrong. Her golden necklace sparkles in the light, and when he glances at it, he can see something reflected in it. Something that is not in the room. Drawn Masquerade peers closer at the reflection. Princess Celestia pulls back, as he abruptly leans in closer. "Drawn, what's the matter?" she asks more directly. In the shine of the gold, he can see… A face. Part of one, anyway. The reflective surface isn't very big. "Your necklace and her guards' armor… It’s...an eye! A tree? No...But. Yes? An eye and a branch....not a branch....a bone? A finger? A tooth? No..." Drawn mumbles still moving closer heedless of Celestia's retreat, "A horn....." "Drawn, what are you talking about?" Princess Celestia applies a firm hoof, shoving him back before he can see more. Drawn Masquerade snaps back into focus. "Sorry your highness. You were saying. I get distracted and wander sometimes… What was it you were saying again? I find myself strangely invigorated by all this walking and talking. I don't get to have a vacation like this often." Princess Celestia frowns. "I was saying, you're the first to arrive." She guides him into the castle, which is now empty. Not a guard in sight. "Luna and I have managed to hold them off so far, but I am not certain how long that will last. Anything you could do to create the illusion of strength on our walls might buy time." "I can easily create a show of strength. How long must it last? Relatively speaking?" "Until more help arrives. How long that will be, I cannot say." Drawn Masquerade sighs. "I was hoping you could. If you had, I could know you were not real… Ahh well! To be unsure again is so… dangerous. That might be useful for a while." "Drawn... are you entirely well?" Princess Celestia asks, that frown returning. "Perhaps you could take some time to rest and let me examine you." "I have rested the rest and need rest only when the rest might rest as well. And well, I may be well but it well may be that well is not all that may be well with well. I suppose that you are indeed right though and I may not be entire...." "...Drawn. Here." Princess Celestia guides him towards one of the abandoned tables in the room. "Lie down a moment." Drawn Masquerade allows himself to be led while in thought and absently lies down on the table. Princess Celestia helps Drawn up to the table, where she is able to lay him out, inspecting him with her hooves and with occasional spells from her horn. As she stands over him, her chest is brought close to his face, and her necklace along with it. Closer now. There is an eye in it. A single wide, staring eye that never blinks. And a face, long and drawn out. And antlers. Antlers that twist through the filigree of the necklace, and through the ripples in her coat, and out into the room. Whatever it is, it's watching him. Looking right at Drawn. He Vanishes. Celestia jumps back when Drawn abruptly vanishes from sight. At once, she waves her hoof through the space where he stands—but her hoof passes through him without impact. "White princess… I think I prefer the blacker one of you," he says as he tries to exert himself and pull the black mare here. His horn glows. The world shifts. And Celestia's expression of alarm is replaced by Luna's oft-tried though amused expression. Back Drawn is in the dark hall, with the shadow-mare guards, and the crackling torches on the walls. "As you wish, Master," Luna says. "But when you're done with your little vanishing act, I should introduce you to the others." "Ahh! Luna I believe? I am eager to meet them," he says, ending the vanish spell. "Your… sister I presume? Why was she here a moment ago? Or was that unreal?" When he reappears, he can still see the eye and the face, now reflected in Luna's gorget. "My sister is in the castle," Luna replies. "But she is not here now. Come, this way." "She was a moment ago..." he mutters as he follows her out. Chaosberries this was going to take so much calculation… "Princess Luna… just a thought though… you may want to get that eye to stop watching me… it is making me nervous. I am rather good at the nervous part but that seems all too unreal for my tastes..." Princess Luna looks where Drawn indicates, and then she chuckles. "I've seen you inhabit enough images to know that it is the enemy who should be nervous of your reflection, Master Drawn. After all," she says, "You are the great illusionist." "You are the shadow behind the screen," adds one of her guards, "You are the comedy on the grand stage," adds a third. "You are the Deer," says Luna, "Who Went Mad." Then, as though she had no notice of just how unusual that conversation was, she gestures on. “Inhabiting an image… hmmm sounds intriguing… makes sense… I think I lost that one with the last spellb...." "Come, we've saved several other ponies from the wood. I will show you." Drawn Masquerade tilts his head… and follows Luna in silent thought
Introductions: Thunder Struck Thunder Struck Character: Thunder Struck Player Name: Warmblood Race: Unicorn Mare (previously pegasus) Class: Sorcerer 5 Role: Blaster (electricity) Thunder Stuck opens her eyes. She received Luna's message. Loud and clear. World in peril, Discord, a castle under siege, come help. She got it all. Every word. She can even understand it better than most ponies, since she was struck by the Spirit of Chaos in person. A snap of an eagle's claw and a clap of a lion’s paw, and she had no wings, and was left tumbling from the sky. She discovered her horn and rediscovered her special talent on the way down, a thunderous blast of magic saving her from being reduced to a smear on the hard earth. And so, she's alive to receive Luna's message. To hear the cry for help, clear as a bell. For all that will matter. The floating island she landed on is about thirty feet across. When she landed, it was a field. Small, but dense with grass. She's long since eaten all the grass though, and when her eyes open, all she sees is the dust. Her body feels weak, her lips dry and cracked. The island didn't have any water to begin with. There was some in the grass, and food as well, but that was soon gone. And once it was gone… She can see other floating islands in the distance. But they're all too far away to leap. Hundreds of yards at the shortest distance. There are others below her she could fall too, but that would absolutely be a terminal drop. And so she's waited. Until today, she can wait no longer. Luna's message is as good an incentive as any to get up. But it's not her real motivation. The sky. Clouds hang above... and sometimes below. So far away. So inaccessible. Once it seemed so easy. It seemed like she was so free. That was when she still had her wings. She rolls over. The dust is warm on her side, baked under the sun. Her white coat protects her from the worst of it, but not all by a longshot. Her thoughts eventually turn to her situation. She can feel a pang of hunger and thirst. It forces her up and to her hooves. If she jumped off the side of her island, what would happen? Without wings, the fall would kill her. If she used her power... it might well kill her. It was so hard to control, unruly, like a storm. Yet something had to be done. One of the islands below her has a lake. It's her best bet. She's heard that hitting water beyond a certain speed might as well be hitting land, for all the difference it makes. Plus the danger of drowning. But its an island that will keep her alive if she makes it. She walks up to the side. Takes a breath. Braces. "You know, far be it from me to question your judgement, but that seems like a terrible waste of Equine life," says a refined, distinguished voice to Thunder's left. Thunder Struck squeaks and jumps back from the edge. "Though it is a noble and worthwhile act, and a profound statement to the value of that life," says the same voice, but this time to her right. Leaping back from the edge and reflexively looking left, she finds herself facing a strange creature. It is like a pony, but too slender in the frame, and too long in the legs, with wide eyes and a drawn face and cloven hooves. Thunder Struck eyes this creature nervously, ears down, tail flagging. She—for it seems to be a she—bows its head. Thunder Struck doesn't see the other one. "I do understand that scarcity of one particular liquid is the, shall we say, motivating resource behind this particular act," one of her long ears twitches, an otherworldly shimmer in her eye. "But if water is what you require, I should be happy to give it to you." "Though," says a voice, that is now directly behind Thunder Struck. "I shall also have to take it from you." "W-Who are you?" Thunder asks. Her voice is a fairly delicate thing, her uncertainty and nervousness quite transparent. "Mm, a tricky question," the one in front says after a moment. "Naturally, that would depend upon my characteristics and traits. For instance, I am the doe that is in two places at once." "I am the creature that gives and takes in equal measure," says the voice behind her. "I am the destiny that waits where you flee from me," says the one in front. "The destiny?" Thunder asks. "So I suppose, all things considered, I must be the Deer Who Saw Her Own Reflection," says the voice behind. "Yes sweetie, the destiny," the one in front says. "But please, call me Imago." “Imago..." She mouths. "I've never heard a name like that before." "It is a deer name. It means mirror. We're a terribly literal race, you see," says the one in front. "Though given to flights of poetic fancy and metaphor," adds the voice behind Thunder Struck. "That's... nice." "Is it? I am uncertain," Imago says, after a moment. "Well no matter. Water, then?" Thunder Struck thinks for a moment. Her lips are parched. But does she trust this strange creature? Does she have a choice? "I guess, yes, I could use some water. And if you know a way off this island..." "As it happens, I have both," says the one in front. "Though strictly speaking, I have neither," says the one in back. "But first, I should fetch you that water," says the one in front. "And take it from you," says the one in back. "Behold!" A gesture of a long, slender hoof guides Thunder Struck's eyes to the island below, where earlier she was planning to jump. The lake there vanishes—gurgling away like a tub with the drain pulled. A moment later, thunder cracks in the sky overhead, and Thunder Struck looks up just in time to see dark rainclouds appear overhead. At once, they fall open, rain pouring down upon the dusty island and turning the dirt to mud, filling the slightest depression or bump with water. Thunder Struck looks simultaneously grateful and dismayed. She eyes the cloud with a hint of nervousness, but leans down to drink from a small puddle nonetheless. She is not too proud to drink from the earth. The water is full of dirt and particles, but nothing has ever tasted so sweet. A thirst such as this she has never known, and she soon has to pace herself before she makes herself sick, water passing over cracked and dusty lips. Soon, she is feeling all-together better—if still a bit lightheaded—and the storm around her has started to abate. “Ah," she says, licking her lips. "Thank you, Imago." The deer—for she sees only one at a time, though she hears two voices—seems content to wait, rivers of water and mud alike running around its hooves to tumble off the edge of the island. "It was my pleasure," she says taking a bow. A moment later, the echo of her voice directly behind Thunder Struck adds, "Though I was rather annoyed with how long you made me wait." "Let us turn then, to the matter of your escape from this island." "I think... I think I need to go somewhere," Thunder says uncertainly. "Yes,” says Imago. “Luna's army." "Green trees. A castle." Thunder Struck stops to think. "Yes. I remember now." "A curious mare that. Clever without a doubt," says the one in front. "I find her more needlessly obtuse," says the one in back. "Still, there are three things you will require if you are to reach her." "Your freedom. The power to find your way. And safe passage." "All three of these things I can give you," says Imago, and a moment later the one behind adds: "And all I ask in return is to take them from you." Thunder Struck blinks. "Do I have a choice?" "You always have a choice," the one in front replies, with a smirk. "Though it may not be much of a choice at all," says the one in back. "I mean, I do want those things. But..." Thunder Struck looks towards the ground. "I just want to be left alone. I'm not sure you would understand." "Then please, enlighten me." Thunder Struck takes a deep breath. Somehow despite the fact she's talking to a deer she keeps calm and collected. "I'm not a unicorn. Or, well, I wasn't. I remember. Now, I'm not sure what I am, but I know I might hurt ponies." She sighs. "Besides, there is so much wrong with this world, but what can I do about it?" "I understand more than you might realize, little pony," says the one in front. "This is not the first time I have heard that litany." "Nor the first time the litany's speaker has heard me." "There is much you can do, to change the ways of this world. Such was shown you this very night, in fact." "If my sources are to be trusted." Thunder Struck doesn't look convinced. "If you say so." She considers for another moment. "Alright. I guess I'll go with you, if you can get us out of this place." "Then I shall give you your freedom," says the one in front. "And I shall take the same," says the one in back. As Imago speaks, a pair of elegant shackles appear around Thunder Struck's ankles. They're very much like the restraints one might wear in a dungeon, except that nothing is hooked up to the spot where the chain goes, and a beautiful set of wings is etched clearly onto each side. "The power to find your way," says the one in front. "Paid for with itself," says the one in back. A matching set of restraints appears on Thunder Struck's rear ankles, though again, they are hooked to nothing. "And the power of safe passage," says the one in front. "Lacking only its mirror image," says the one in back. The set of restraints is complete now with a horn guard—though lacking the part that actually impairs unicorn magic, it resembles a fancy circlet more than anything else. Thunder Struck looks nonplussed at this new jewelry. "And you may, in that spirit, go in peace." Imago gestures Thunder Struck off the side of the island. "Fly, little pony." Thunder Struck steps up to the edge. Out of instinct she tries to flex her wings, but they are gone. None of those wing muscles even remain. She takes a deep breath, and another, and another. Then, finally, she leaps over the edge. She tumbles. Twists. Hurtles through the sky to her certain doom. The wind around her rises from a whisper to a roar, and flailing her legs does nothing to arrest her motions. Her memories flash back to her first fall. She whizzes past one island, then another, until finally one rushes into her sight. She braces for impact—and then plows into the ground like a stone from a catapult. A moment later, she is very puzzled to be alive. Thunder Struck feels the hair of her mane bristling with electric power. No! No! Checking over her body, she realizes she isn't hurt. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The feeling of power fades away. The island she's landed on isn't any less isolated than her previous—a small patch of forest, with part of somepony's woodpile at the edge—but now, there are more islands she can reach. Chunks of land below her she can jump to. There's no sign of her... benefactor. Whoever that was. "Okay Thunder, you're alive." She mutters to herself. "Some weird deer talked to us, and now... now we need to find Luna." She gets up to explore her new island, and those below. A long running leap—and another deep crater—brings her to an island that holds the remains of somepony's house. The owner is not in residence, but it gives Thunder a chance to find some hay and fresher water. Then it's another leap, this one more graceful, to another island below. Leap after leap, she gradually gets the hang of it, working her way down through the clusters of floating earth. Once she gets the hang of it, she can ever land running, hopping from place to place in long and graceful arcs. "Okay. This isn't so bad. Not like flying, but..." But she can find her way. It's even kind of fun! Until she hears a scream, and far below her, sees a long string of islands—forming a path stretching off through the distance. And on them, there is a group of ponies, being pursued by a pack of… Some sort of four-legged predator. Too small to be a pony. But he can see the way it moves. Like wolves, but bigger! Nipping at the heels of the poor ponies as they flee. "How terrible! Those poor ponies…" She feels nervous, a tightness forming in her chest. She's scared, but she can't just stand back and let these ponies be run down like rabbits. "Maybe we can scare them away..." She says to herself as her legs start to move. She takes a running leap, and then she’s sailing through the air. Below her, she can still hear the ponies screaming—one of them trying and failing to beat the predators back with... some kind of club? It’s hard to see from this distance, but it looks like she's going to land right in the middle of it all! The strip of earth rushes up, she braces for impact— And ponies and predators alike leap back, as an unguided projectile makes a brand new crater in the middle of their battlefield. As the dust hangs in the air, a small voice calls out. "Hey! You big meanies, leave these ponies alone!" When the dust clears, Thunder Struck finds herself facing the predators. Four creatures that seem like nothing so much as wolves made out of twigs and brambles, animated by some strange magic, a burning light in their eyes. "Go away!" Thunder calls out. Inside, something is rising, straining to break free… But the wolves aren't listening. As a pack, they tense up. Leap— A roar erupts from Thunder Struck's throat. The other ponies avert their eyes as a flash of bright blue light engulfs the unicorn and the four wolves. Lightning shoots out, arcing to grass and rock, singing and burning whatever it touches. A peal of thunder cuts across the island. The smell of ozone fills the ponies noses, shortly followed by the smell of something burning. When the smoke clears, the wolves have disappeared, a few bits of burning twigs rain down onto the islands. Turning around, Thunder Struck sees a group of ponies behind her. Two stallions, just about shaking with fear, and one mare armed with a baguette—that would be the club from earlier. All are unicorns. "...h-hi," the mare says. After a moment, one of the stallions adds: "Thanks." "Oh. Um... you're welcome." Thunder Struck looks down, the rush of power fading now. "Are you all okay?" "Fine," says the mare. 'Yah, we're good," adds one of the stallions. The other just nods. "Are you a wizard?" "I... I guess," Thunder mumbles. She doesn't mention this is the first time she's ever talked to a unicorn. "Oh, that's wonderful!" the mare says, and soon, all three are by Thunder Struck's side. "We lost our only wizard over a week ago. We were on our way to Luna's castle, when we were ambushed by these horrible creatures. Poor Flash Point stayed behind to hold them off while we... well." Thunder Struck was shying away, but she perks up at mention of Luna's castle. "You're going to Luna's castle? So am I!" "I'm Banana Bread," says the one with the bread. "I'm a baker," she adds, a bit redundantly. "These two are Hoof Strike and Tail Shake. Will you uh... let us travel with you?" she asks, so hopeful and worried. "Nice to meet you all." Thunder Struck doesn't sound quite comfortable, but she puts on a valiant effort to relax in their company. "Of course." And so, the group sets off. Down the long path. Through the twisting sky. Into the darkened wood. Several times along the way, they encounter more creatures—stray packs of Timber Wolves or Diamond Dogs. Each time though, Thunder Struck summons that power to her horn, and with a flash of light and the stench of ozone, they are no more. Her three companions are quick to hide behind her when danger threatens, not being the adventurous types themselves. The one contribution they make to the journey—aside from their company—comes when the group reaches the edge of the forest. There, they do as Luna commanded them in their dream: break a loaf of bread in half, and leave a trail of crumbs. When the bread is gone, turn and follow the trail back the way you came. It seems madness, but the three trust Luna implicitly, and the Moon Princess proves true to her word. The crumb trail leads not back to where they started, but somehow deeper into the woods. The four emerge inside the perimeter of the circling camp, just outside the massive front gates. "You're the wizard," one of them says nervously. "You should knock." "Um... okay." Thunder walks slowly towards the gate, stepping softly as though she expects the ground to disappear below her feet at any step. But it doesn't, and she reaches the grand double doors. Knocking once. Then again. Slowly they open, and there is a pony on the other side. With a starry mane, and a horn, and wings. "Come in," she says. "Quickly."
