The Drifterby GrouchoMarxDiscipleChaptersIntroduction by the AuthorVisitorAudienceIntroduction by the AuthorWhen I look out at the vastness that is the multiverse, when I see all the beauty and all the terror of all time and space, when I apprehensively stalk the horrors that exist just beyond a mortal grasp, when I find that one square of land in one world has more depth than I ever imagined, it sometimes seems too vast, too unknowable, even for me. For one charged with defending the Cosmos to be so enraptured by the very thing it defends is dangerous. I get distracted, and Lurkers almost get through the Rift. The universes are much too wide and the diversity too great for even I to comprehend. I have been to all of them, of course. When Lurkers or Shakers sneak through, I have to bind myself to them. Help them fight. Make sure they never understand the incredible danger they live in. I Drift into their realm, I smite the forces that would destroy Order, and I leave. Some call me a hero, others a god. It doesn’t matter to me, either way. I exist to defend them. What they think of me, or don’t think of me, is not important. The next time I visit, the mortals, their children, and their gatherings are all gone, replaced. I watch universes be born, I’m there when they die. Keeping up friendships, or even a presence, becomes nearly impossible in the vast infinity that is Cosmo. When all is quiet, when the universes are all safe, when the Lurkers and Shakers and Vile Ones are still, when there is no struggle, then is when I explore the Universes. Each one holds millions of wonders, things even I cannot fully admire. I feel the dying pulse of a star, I touch the fusion of a sun, I examine the asteroids and the meteors, finding rare and precious metals. I explore worlds unseen by any before, and worlds that will never be seen. Sometimes I find life there, too. Sometimes it's even intelligent. The Lurkers don’t stop.They invade. They destroy. They enslave and devour, unnoticed for thousands of thousands of years. The Vile Ones impress their will on these mortals, the Shakers make sport of entire universes. They don’t appreciate the beauty, the joy, the splendor of the cosmos. They don’t see the individual glories of the worlds they attack. All they see is potential for destruction. I stop them to preserve the beauty of the Cosmos. I fight to protect the Rift so that the mortals can live normal lives. I wish to keep exploring the universes forever, to find more, to experience more. In that, I am an incredibly selfish creature. The Lurkers don’t stop, the Vile Ones never quit, the Rift is always besieged. I could abandon my post, leave, find a new place to explore, but I never do. I love the beauty too much. There was a time when I was no better than they. When I didn’t respect the Cosmos, when I saw Drifting as a chore, as my job. I never stopped to look at what I protected, I fought with a pronounced indifference. I used to believe I was much wiser and greater than the Mortals. I felt more at ease waiting at the Rift than Drifting. I hated my time spent in worlds, and ended it as soon as possible, not caring about the collateral damage. I caused as much destruction as I prevented, and I was just as frightening as the horrors beyond the Rift. That all changed, millenia ago, when I was stripped of my power. I was forced to cease Drifting, and stay in one world for a while. It was there I was taught to see beauty in the Cosmos. It was there I was transformed, and it was there that I found a reason to fight. For, my friends, it was there I learned of the Magic. This is my story. VisitorFlash Sentry sighed a long, heavy sigh. This guy is never going to quit, not until Tartarus freezes over. As he nudged his prisoner forward once more, the never-ending barrage of madness assaulted his ears anew, louder and angrier before. "...ou will never understand the magnitude of your actions, you vile worm. I demand the kind of respect that you would show a creature of my stature and ability, and I especially demand you take your little pointy stick and shove it where the Star don't shine. The sheer arrogance of these lower life-forms makes me want to simply throw up my hands and let you get destroyed. Seriously, this is the most asinine and ridiculous treatment I have ever been subject to, and ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING? It's like I'm talking to empty Cosmo here..." And on and on and on. It was bad enough that he just so happened across this obviously drunk wretch behind the tavern, but it was at the very end of his shift, too. He was tired, and no matter how disciplined one becomes, sleepiness remains constant. According to the Royal Guard Canterlot Corps policies, dangerously drunk ponies are to be escorted home promptly. If one is too drunk to recall where home was, he would be put in a holding cell for a few hours, until he sobered up a bit. Every time Flash Sentry tried to bring up the notion of home, this stallion would start again about DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? and THIS RIDICULOUSNESS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. It was starting to give him a headache. "...ob to do, and you are not making it any easier. Now I am trapped in this Cosmo-accursed body, in this backwards world full of saccharine shenanigans and ridiculous physics. It's enough to make one SICK. Absolutely SICK." Sentry shook his head slowly, and poked him with the end of his spear once more. Seriously, this guy is as stubborn as a mule. As they slowly made their way into the castle compound, the unknown drunk decided he wasn't moving anymore, and was now sitting in the middle of the courtyard. "You filthy speck! Do you see what you are doing? I am the Drifter, and you cannot hold me forever! I will escape someday, and then you shall pay! You, your children, your grandchildren, your Gathering, your world, your Universe shall pay! I will become the destroyer of worlds, the darkest of nightmares, the harbinger of doom! I will become the vilest of... aggressors". On that last word, the unknown's voice lost it's self-righteous tone, becoming softer. Flash raised an eyebrow. What's wrong with this guy now? His quarry was currently standing still, staring in awe at a pedestal in the middle of the garden. "A Shaker was here? You fought off a Shaker? B-b-but... I didn't... I never... How did I miss this?" Without prompting, the dark blue stallion with a Galaxy for a cutie mark began walking into the stone garden. Flash followed him, partly out of duty, and partly out of curiosity about what had shut him up. "You... Your Realm... You survived a Shaker?" The stallion slowly approached the Discord Memorial. Commissioned after the Second Discord Conflict, this sculpture served as a reminder of the strife the Bearers went through, before being rallied by Twilight Sparkle. Of particular significance was the fact that, in the sculpture, Discord could be seen underneath the Six, laughing. The Unknown slowly approached the statue, touching it gently. He seemed to gaze into it's eyes, as if trying to read it's mind. "He's still in this world. We haven't much time." Flash Sentry raised his other eyebrow, as the stallion turned to face him. "I require an audience with your local authority. This is a matter of Cosmic significance." Flash donned a mischievous grin. "Of course, immediately. Right this way, sir." For once, he didn't have to poke him to get him going. Author's Note So, this story seems interesting to me. What do you guys think? NEXT CHAPTER: THE AUDIENCE AudienceIt's been a great day, so far at least. Discord strolled down the halls of Canterlot Castle, a huge grin on his crooked face. All is going precisely according to plan. As he slowly made his way to the stairs, the guards parted and let him through. They didn't bow or show their disgust, but Discord could feel their mistrust. Not that I haven't earned it, he snickered to himself. Oh, but they'll come around eventually. Normally, Discord wouldn't have bothered with the stairs (he felt that menial tasks such as 'walking' were only for when he had some form of company, like his dear friend Fluttershy), but today was special. He wanted to savor every moment of his victory. His plan was bulletproof, at least he thought so, and it would forever take care of his one true fear. The dungeon of the castle, despite the rumors to the contrary, is actually fairly clean and well-furnished. It is intended as a holding chamber for anypony who acts in a disorderly fashion in and around the castle, and as such rarely has somepony occupied a cell for longer than a day. Many times it is a precautionary thing, and as such every attempt is made to comfort the occupants. This was not helping one particular prisoner, however. He was in the cell at the end of the hall, screaming half in Equish and half in some unpronounceable tongue. Discord could sense it, his quarry was close. "Guards, I would like to request a simple moment to speak to this poor, drunk prisoner." Discord said, embellishing his voice as much as he could. "Perhaps I could aid you in geting rid of him, or at least pinpointing his point of origin." The Royal Guard is a very diligent organization, but they didn't really have a protocol for a Draconequus requesting to speak to a drunk. "I promise I won't bring any sort of harm to the gentlecolt, and you can even watch me if you'd like." Discord allowed his eyes to become ridiculously huge, creating a fake cuteness that caused more gags than sighs. Hesitantly, the door guard removed the key from his armor and slowly opened the door, locking it behind Discord, as he was trained. "Thank you, fine sir. I'll be just a moment." Discord said, in his brightest voice. He then turned around, and smiled malevolently. "Me and the Drifter won't take up too much of your time, I promise." "D̑r͕͇̤͕͌i̘̦̯̮͍̲̗͛̈́̿ͩͪ̑f̜̣̘̥ͬͥ̽͐́̇̎t̉͛̈̏eͣ͐̍ͪ̈́r͕̩̗͍ͤ̆,͔̙̣̫͇̙͖̂ͮ̋ ̳̗̇̌͌̉̅̇I̳̪͕ͧ̃͊ ̤͉̥̺̬̱͇ͮ̒̌p͌ͮͩ͊ͥ͌r̞͈͈͈ͨ̅ͮͯ̃ͦe̦̹̥̰̘̓̌͂ͪ͂̑s͇̮̖ͫṳ̙̟̩̯̍ͨ̌ͤm̻͇̳͙̖̯͈̊ͯe̫̙͔̼̥̞̅̎͛ͯͨͩ.̲̭̲͈͐ͩ̓̈́̉ ̥͓̏͊̋A̋̂̽̆͒̔̉ͅ ̭̤͈̦͗̋́p̞ͮͬ̓̈́ͯ͛͌l͈ͦ̉ͦ̓́̂e̬̺͇͍͇̟̐̀a̭ͭͭ͒̃̓̒s͕͓̺͍̰̪ͣͯ̽ͅú̲ͧͫ̽ͤ̔͂r̝̙͊̔e̺͓̝̺̮̬̼͗̚ ͣ̉t̠̟̯͍̜̮̑̈͒ͅó͖̝͂ͬ͛ ̤ͪ́͊m̠͗ͬͧ̎̈́͂a̎ͣ̍̎̾̚k̖̠̗̳̲̱ͩ̎e͋̅͋́͌ ̬̎̉͌yͧ̇͌͐͐o̙̬u̯̜̫̺ͥ̒͊̇̍r̝̝̰͖̘ ͐a͖̦̻̜͉̔̔͒ͅͅc͕̮̳ͨ̋ͣ̎̽q͖̱̙̗̩͎̃́̃̆̀u̟a͇̞̤̻̋ͮị̠̝͍́ͅn̻̠͕̗̹̜̄́t̗̣̻͋a̫̺n̜͇͈̠͕̄c̯͆̒e̠̭̥̜̜̣͉̍ͩͭ͆.̠̜̪̺̜̅́̈͗͂" To those around, Discord's speech sounded like gibberish, but with a dark, menacing tone. It sounded like a thousand voices spoke every time he uttered a syllable, many of them screaming and crying. Those outside the room felt the temperature drop, and the guards instantly began trying to open the door. "S̟̬͔̹̣̩͎̽̓ͪ̃ͬ̐̓ḧ̰ͪ̑́ͦakͪe͚͐ͤr̦̣͗ͯ͒̽ͩ͑̚.̮̬̭̿̓̽̂̇ͧ͂ ̫̲̜̹̗̊̿̎͆̄ͫ́W̞̱̦̯̜̳͕͋̅͑͒̊ͦͧh̭̫̺͈̮̿̿ͫ̐͑͑a̪̟̯̪̝͉̯̍̑̌ͥ̚ť̮͎͓͈̀ͪ̆ ̠̖h̪̜ͤͪͨa̺̻͒̉ͫv̦͈̭͊e̫̰ͧ ̰̪͂ͮ͗ͦ̎̓̚ý̻̟͙̪͉̝͓͛̉̆ͪ̆o̫͔̙͉̗̥ͦ͒̉uͪ͒̌̿̍͆ͅ ̜͓d̦̼͙͐͒ͬ͐́ͦô̺̚n̯̜͇̺ͮͩ̈́̿̆ͣe̘͙͖̺̯̟ͭ̉ͮͣ̌ ͉͙̗̰͕͉͉͋̈́ͣͨ̌ͣt̩̎͊ͮͧ͂o̓ ̝̰̥̲̲̩̗̌ͩ̈̇̚m̘̤ẻ͖͔̝?̬̩̙ ͓̩͔ͬW̪̝̱͇̟̆ͬ̔h͍̮͙͕̽ͦ̉ͅy̾ͧ ̠͐͛̂c̟̰̼͇͚ͫ͗̈́͂̓a͑͑ͮn͓̮̩̹̍ͮ̅ͅ'͙̙̱̞̬̤̤̉t̟ ͕ͬͨ̄̑̐̆I̦̲ ͈̳̤̥̙̠̒̾̐̌̂̚̚ͅD͊̒͒͊ṟ̤̪̳̖̚ͅi̳̫̼ͪ̒f̯͉̭̙͇̯͋͛̋̓t̗̰͕͓͓?͎̦̈́̀͗̋ͣ̍̚ ̮̻̬͕͈̞̌͆͊̿̓I͇̤̽̀̅̚ ̞͖̣̾̓̇͛s̗̦̱̼̯ͬͪ́͑̂w̫̪̬̉e͇̠̺̙̫ͪã͖͚̦̭̘̄̿ͯr̞͈̬̘͈͇ͫ͊ ͎͓͕̰͉ͩ́̽͂̊b̼̫ͭy̗̜͔̔͊̑ͯ̈́́͐ ̝̜͙̝̦̻̹t͚͍͎̝̝̻̪̃͋̾ͫͨͤh̰̯̐e͕͇̟̣ ͯ͛̿̅̚G̫̘̬̮o̤͔̐̔͗͌̈́͂ď̗̯͎̫͓̜ͪͥ́̽̊̍d̆̋ḙ̳̬͇̲̪ͭ̈́̋͆̔ͮs̩͛̉ͣͥ̋̈́š͙͈̖̗͋ͭ̽̒̾̈́,̼͎͗̚ ̦̰̤͌̔̚ͅi͚͇̪̙͂̈́͐f͉͍̯̃ͩ ͎̮̳̐y̩̟̞͕ͩ͛o̯̺ͅu͚͉̮̘͋ͫ ̩̝̊̽ͤ̋d̖̻͉͆̈͒o̼̼͎̯͔͓̓n̤͍̝̗̖͆̇'̼̝̺̩͖͈̺̌ͪ͋̿t̤̼̳͙͍ ̤̮ͣr͍̋͛ͥ͐ͥeͮ͒ͯ̒̈̀l̄ͭ̀è̯ͤͫͮͮ̐̍a̱̓̃s̟̠̟̪̞̺͒e͎͍̣̣͔͐͆̅͆ͭ ̱̱̠̺̘m̰̣ẽ̖͇̫̣̥̜͎̄-̺̭͙̝̲͇̺ͧ̇ͯ̏ͦ̌̚" The Drifter responded in kind. Unlike Discord, when the Drifter spoke it sounded like a man who speaks a foreign language. The door wouldn't budge, it appeared to be magically locked. The guards began ramming it at full force. "D̲̣̲̹̲̄o͚̼̾͑̋n̠̫͉̣̖̹͂̈́̅̓̃͑̚ͅ'̓́t̻̥̼̿ ̝͎̗̺̥͍͖̎̆̉l̼͈̪̘̚̚ǒ͖̳̜̜͙̂ͤ̽̑o̼͚ͣ̏ͯ͋k̲̹̜̯̣̖̩̊ ̫͔̟͖ạͦ̄͂̾̚̚t͎̟̖̜͓͓̙ͩ́͌ͪͨ ̤͋̏m͚̱͇̗̹̲͒̉̑̑̿̇̀ȇ̱͌̇ͭ̍̇,̤̮̱̯̻̩̦̇̀̍̇̈̚ ̱̥͎̉̇͋̉ͯͥ͂ͅD͚͍̹͊̍ṙ͓̫̱̳ͨ̋i̳̣̘̺̊f̿̎ͩͭ̿̂͑.̙̟͓͈̳̖̹̑ ̣͇̿̀̈́̄Ì̝͔̜̯ͯ̓ ̍ca̹̝̣̼n͈̥͚̭ ͔͕͙̬͍͕̭ͩͨc̺ͨͦ̊͐̐̂̿ͅà͊ͥ͗̈́ͭ̃ḷ̹̰͍̰̞́͒͌̑̔̈́̄l̝̤̙̣͖ͬ̈́ͬͯ̓ ̊y̱͉͚̣̲ͦͨͬ͊̑o̾ͩ̂͑ͥ̐u̳̬̿̈́̑̿ͥͥ ̑͋D̹͕̩̼̦̮̠r̫̗̭̯ͯ͛i̬͕̦̪̻͖̓͌̍f̮ͭͤͪ̋,̱̩͕̥̠ͥ̉̅ ̟͔̥̺̥̝̞ͧͪ̍̑c̳̬̲̜͚̦̲ͦa̰̣͕͖͉̳̣͒͛̏̃̓̈̈́n̖̾̌ͦ͆ͨ̔̔'̖̯t̘͔ͮͬ ̯̳̫̠̩͎ͭͯͅI?̰̹͓͚͉͖̹̌̔̓̆ͧ̚ ̭̼̬̬̓ͨI̗̹̻̐̊̏̀ ̯̠̟̋̓̀ͧͅc̺̦̦̣͇̾ͩ͌a̙͔̖͗n̫̘̙͖ͥͦ̇ͦ̚ ̟̱̉ͯ͌p͕ͫ̋̐r̤̫͓̝̳̉̆͛̉̂͐ͨó̻̞̋̈ͩ́͋͂m͚̰͙̩͉ͮ̂̽̄i̠̗̊̿̏s͇͖̲̳̘͂ͮ̏̐̆ẹ̥̞̬͖̥̹ ͊ͪ̄̓ͧ̚y̖͉̲͓̜̩̪ͧ͒̓ͯo͚̠͍̩̜̲̥ŭ̠̻̫̲̤̼ͩ̽̿̈ͦ ̭̭͓͔̤͙͇̈́̃̃̇ͨ̋ͫÍ͉̘̎ ̩̰̭̱͂̓̈̃a̙̔ͨ͐̚m̫̲͉̦̪͉͒̄̑̏ ̘̩̬̮̺̥̂̆̌ͣͅh̗̳̜͆̉ͪ̌͆͗͒ẹ̞͎r̲̬͚͈̱͕͖e̬͕̻͛͋ͤͧͬ ̥͔̋̐̿̓̄͛̈́t̠̭ͩͣ̅ͤͤ͌ọ͔̭͍̇̓͌ ̙͚͎̜̱͕̺͗̍ͩ̇̈́̏̚h̙̖̹̦̠̗̊͛̅̑ẽ̊ͥ̈́l̞̣̪̬͋͌ͯp̬̹ͯ͌ͯ̄̎̍̆ ̤̤̝̉ỷ̯̱͗͌͂̈̃̈́ö̠͔́̎̏ͫu̩ͣ͐,͕͓̖̝̥̓̇̔ͣ̚ ̝̰̈̃̉D̦̪̟͈̘̪̿͒̽rͨi͖̜̫͎ͫ̇f͖̭.̯͋͂̍̿͂ͣ̚ ̔̓͆A̿ͥ͋ͣͤͧ̎n̥͉̫͙ͮͬ̒ͥͅḓ̭̯̩͓̜̬ͦ̃̂̋ͮ̉̇ ͈͓̱̙̝̪́t̹̥̟̤͙̬ͣ̽̌͑̐r̯̎̂̓̏u͙̘̜̳͙̻̰s͕̼͒ͣͮ̓̍ͣ̉t̥̔̇ͅ ̪̭̙̙m̆̒̓͌e͐̌̃ͬ͋̋ͩ, ̰̗̦͉̫ͫÿ̞̥̙͚̤͛͌ͩ͛́ō̲͙̮̋̇ͅū̪̮̰̺ͯ̀̑ ͋̀͌̊̑͊w̥͍̄̌ͦ̽͒͆̚ẳ̗͕̿̊n͍͌̊̏̐̅̔t̾̇̌̐ ͙̺̋̀ͨ̈̄̇m͈͔̲͉̣ͫ͊͆̐y̗̟̥ ͓̖̲͉ͯ̊ͮ̒̿h̪͓̲ͮ͆̒͋e̒͐ͫ͌́l̫̝̬͓̂̅ͅp͕.͍̼̪̙̻̖̝ͬ" Discord laughed. "B̼̬͕̭̂͂̄̃ͭe̯͓̪̥ͬ̌̉͊̅̈s̠̼͇͍͍̞ͣ̋ͦͫͥ̃ͥͅi̬̰͈̻ͥ̿ͅd͓̣̍̍͂̄ḛ̼͉̣͖ͪ͆ͣͅs͍͎̻͉̋̈́̔ͦͧͅ,̻̹̖̘̗͚̳̊̉́ͧ̒̚̚ ͕̻͎ͬͤ͗͋t̯̘̠̠̟̳̲͊ͤ͗h̻̮͓͕͖e͙̬̗͂̂̊ͅr͙̠͈͔͔̭̞e̞̲̲̯̯̮̗ͬ ͎͎̭͓̙̑ͨ̓i̬̣͖̲̿͌̔͒̾͛͛s͓͎̮̜̭̯̅̓̓͂̔̀n͍̝ͯͥ'̰̰͈͙t̯̏ ̥ͭ̾ͣ̏̀̉̓m̻͎̼̓̅̈́͋̉̓u͛c͓̪̥̏͌̌̓͌̅ͫh̥̳̤̺ͦ̉̋͆͂̓ ͍͑͐y̙̪ͯ̂̀͑̋o̓͛̌̒̒ͬu̼̠̤͓͍ͨͥ͊͛͊ͨ ̤̥̼̈̂̅ͯ͊ͭc̗̙̱̟̻̭̝a̤̪͊ͯͮͯ̽n̩̳̦̘̦͉̽̾̅̾ͥ ̘̥̐do̱̞̣̪̪̬ͤͅ ̎̏̄̿̑b̲͙̜͇͔ͦ́ͮ͂ͨ͂y̟̥̬̖ͪ ͓͖ͯͬ͛ẏ͈̖͔̟̦͕̖o̟̻̬̣͆͛̓̾u͓͙̰ͬ̿̋̍r̰̦̹͙̜̬̥͋̐ͪs̩͑̓̾̃ͅe̊ͬ́l͔̟͆͊̀̅͒̔f͙̬̗̱͍̖̦ͣͦͮ ̖̘̩͖͚̒͗̿n̙̖̮̪͍͒̄̅́̿̓̐ó͎̝͔͙͔̓͆̆w̟̬̙̱̫͉͙ ̱͓̦͙̩̽̋͐ͧá̮ͣ̓̂̾n̪̻̹͚͈͒ͧ̇yͫͤͫw̟͇ͧͅă͚ȳ̠̳͓͍̞̐̓̓̾̉ͯ.̲ͭ̏̄͊ͦ̑̓" "T̝̟ͤ̓̽ͬͨ̂͑ḧ͙̱̤̤͔͈̹̅̍̚e̖ͭ͊̒̍ͫ̎̚y̮̗͓̱̙̞͂̔ͮ ̬̗͎̙̲̉̆̏͂ͯ̂c͚̙̖͇͕̻̔͋̀ͩͭ̓ͪa̰̮̖̋̌̿lͦͥͧͮ̾̽̚l͕̙̗̂́͑ͫ ͉̟͖̹͑̂̓̂ͧ̆ͪy̬̺͔͙͓͉̍oͤ̅̔ü̥̱̤̏͆ͅ ͍̘̝̻̯̤ͫ́̔̓D̰̦̭̟̹̃̒i̗͔ͣ̋̈́̔s͈̰̭̻̒̏c̫̳̓͗ͫ͛͑̄̄or̼̮̖̬͙͂̋͌͒dͯ̄ͥ,̳͍͎̣̖̂̽͗ͭ͊ͅ ͥd̰ͅo̹̙͉ͨ̍͗ͫ͂n͍̫̲̤͓̟͆̅̓͆̍͒ͦ'̬̳̱̠̅̊͆ͪt͎͚̅̿̾̅͊ͭ ̤͚͙̩̪ͧͪͧͦt͇̉̅̋ͧ̈́̇h͍̰̪̙̮̤ͮ̊̐ȅ͚̬̫̘̼̼ͅy̑͂?͚̺̪͌ ͍̫̤͙̻̾Ḥ̪̣̝͕̣͔ͬ̑̃͑̒̇͌a̖̓ͯ̀̌v̞̠̯̣̂ͤë̫̞̻͙́̈̄̇̉̈ ͋ͫ̆ÿ͓̭̞ͅo͎̠͎̹͈̰͎ͣ͑̾ͩͮ̉̏u̙̪͖ͧ͌ ͚͉̭̦̦̑̄e͕͓̥͖̿̉̈́̏̒̾ṋ̇ͨ̾ͫ͗ͯs̟̙͖̗̮l̖͖̄͑͌ͧ̅͊ͭå̯͓̘͖̖̩̭v͖͖̫̺͇e̞͇̽ͫ̔̔̉̾d̲̺̘ͬ͆ ̥͚̖̰̿ͧ̐ͯͫ̿t̳̙͙̟̏͂́ͥ͊h̝̠̫̹̏̓̔i̭͛s̤̟̭̼̿͂͒͗ ́ͥw̳͖̌ͧͅoͪ͐͐̏͗͌ͬr͍͎̲̰̜̒̀ͦlḓ͇̩̞̭̰͐̋̿ͥ̈́ ͉͇̙̻̗͔͈̂͗̎̈́̇ͥä̱̮͇̝̦͎̟́ͪͭl̺͗́̿r̟͚͔̘̠̘̅̓̉ͪ̈́e͎͖a͈̩͓̩̻͎̺̽̇͑͒̈́̓d͖͕͔͖͙͔̯y̭̘̘͉͙̮̹͐ͬͬ͗̾̇̚?̳̱̙ͭ͗̌ͧ͋ ̓̅ͦ͛̚A̖̤̾̿ͨ̑͌̇r̭̮͒e̗̤͉ͤ͒̋͑͒ ͚̩͇͔̭͉̱̋̽̽y̫͂ͫo̯̥͎̰ͤ́̊͗u ̖̝̲̄a̟̪̼̳͕ͬ̆͗l̬̪̯̭̭̜͖͐̈́ͥͩͩ̃r͕͚͍̎̎̇͋̍̀e̟͓͔͎̥̣͔̋ͤa̼̝̥͈ͨ̐d͚̫̦̋̿̚y̯ ̹̮͔̻̰̩̅͗ͩ̓ͨͯp̜͓̦̼̳̫̥̀̏͋̂̈̚l͓a̬͓̘̥͇̜̞̓̾͒̔ͨ͑ṇ͈̤̩̘̱͙n̦̾i̙̙̝̥͙̟ͦ̔ͅn͚̐ͤ̈́̓̆g͎ ̮̯̜̰̝̗̺̂̊͆̈́t͉̿͐̔͛ͧͅhͯ͂ͥe̘ͤ ̖̰͓̼̜͉͊̔d͔̣͙e̻̺͇̰̻ͧ̈ͪ̂̊ś̗̼͔̭̱ṭ̩r͌̎ͪͥ͑u̫͔͔̒ċ͙̦̭͔̏t̥̗̬̟̱̮ͥ͗͗̑̍̅͂ḯ̼̒̓̌͗̄̐ͅo͕̩̤̅͐ͥ̈̅ͅn͌ͬ̈ͧ͑ͫ ̥̻̪ͮͮͅo͓̻̭̣͉̦͛ͭ̏͋͒̍͊f̲̥̱̲̖̫̎ͧ͆̽ͅ ̰̇̅͊ͯt͇͔͕͎͙͇̙ͥ̆͛̌h͓iͬs̗̮̭͈͚͓ͧ͂ ̠̞̝̦̣̳̂̌̈ͫ̚ṷ̹̾ͫ͑̊̓̚n̹̖͒ͧ̌͗́ͯǐ̫͎̳͙̺̭̜ͣ̆ͭv̦̗͒e̍ͧ́̆r̖͍s̗͈̖̦̘͉̓̔̄͐̚ḙ͔̹ͨ?̟̹̠̮̲̠̝ͨ͗ͭ" The Drifter's eyes radiated malice. "H͔͖͔̥̀̑̒̉ȯ̭̠͖̞̲̞ͬͅw̼͍͇͛ͨ̿ͤ͒͆̆ ̹̲̖ͩ͌d̯̗̊͌͐̔̇̚î͋ͤd͔ ̝̬͒̾ͩ̎̑́̌y̒ͨ̊o̗̦̝͙͖ṵ̖̝̟̼͈̊͂ͮ̾̎͑ ̻͓̝̇h͙̿ͫͅỉ̝̝͉ͅdͦ̍ͭ̀ͭ͒e̘͗ͣ̇ͣ ̲̙͙̔̋͒͗͋̍f̣̰̱͓͔̥̀̃ͦ̿r̼̖̟̄ͨ͐̇o̤̯̅m̱̲̤̩̣ͨ͑ͩ̐ͣͬ̈́ ̦̞͖͙͓ͯ͊̍̋ͅḿ̝͉ͧͬ̎͆̌ͅe̗̦̻ͨͮ̒̎ ͎̀̋͐ͩ͑ͤf̦͈͉̹͂͊ͯͩ̾o͈ͣ͛ͬ͗͗̊r̘̙̳̱̺̞̃̆͆́ͮ̅ ̼̲̲͉͇ͅŝ̪̫͎̝̾͒o̭̜̮͓̮͑̎ͧͦ̂͆̍ ̰̜͙̏̇͑̄̎l̖ỏ͔͍ͦ̄ͧ͋n̖͖͚̉̃ͣ̈̎g̘̥̥͂͊̍̿̔?̘̞̲͉̮̀̇͛" Discord laughed as the guards sent somepony to alert the Princess. "Yo̲͈͈ͮ̽̎͛͋ͥu̯̥̜̼̫̓ͬͪ̋̍̽ͅ ̝̠ͯs̻̤ͫͨͣ̅t̻̥͙͓̦͓͊̆̿͑ḯ̱ĺ̥̳̳̯͍͓l̾ͬ͋̊ͨ ̲̉̄͊ͮ̃ḏ̲̬̩̎̔ͨ̆̀o͙͇͙̪̮̠̼̎̈͒n̤̣͚̰͔͖̪'ͦͩ̒̍ͪ́͛t̬̄ͧ̈̄ͣ ͙̱͕̩̬̯̇ͮ̏ͣ̎ͪͅs̠ͧe͖̒ͯͧ̎̂e̞͍̩̣ͬ ̪͊̅͛̈̽̋̋ĩ͇͖͔̰͈̇́ṱ̦̼̙͍͍̭̀̎ͤ͑ͫ̄,̪̯͇̜̹̏̑̓̋ͭ͛ ̼̋͗̾͆̎d̯̪̞̿ͤô͉̼̌̊̎ ͎̘̖͍̖͎̝͋͗y̞̟̳̑͂ͭ͊o͇ͮ̋͌̽ṳ̬͓͇̦̓̒̓?̾̈́̎̎ͬ̇ ͉͇͔̗ͬ̀̽́̓W̬̮̪̦̝̞̓̋ï͈̳̻ͧͫ̒tḫ̮̽̀͑̂͐ ̭̩̯̝̱͉ͣa̲͕̬͔̔ͦl̳͕̩͐́ͥ̂ͫl͎͗ͪ ̺̈̔̄̈̅y̖̍͂̏ͩͮŏ̦͓͕̙̟ͫ̆ṵ͇̼͈͊ͤ̊͋̎͋̐r̘̄ ̪̩w͕̤̩̹̘͛́͑̈ͅi̮̞̻̬̼s̬̪̦̒̎͐ͪ̑̿ͬd̪̩̻̬̈́͊ͮo̰̣̹̘͑̉̅ͦͭͭm͙̦͙͚͍͛͑͒ͅ ̞̮͕̹͚̘̄̈f̯͚̗̰͛̐̎͒ͬ͊͌r͛́͌o͕̳͈̊͌̓͗ͫm̤̼̗̬͎̖͕͊̄ͫͦͭ̉͒ ̯͐w̦͒ͣ̏̅ͪ̏a͍̯̬̤̽ͣ̂ͅẗ̺̙̲̐̓ͨ͂̈́ch̗̼̠i͇͖̘̰͍n̖̊ͪg̺̮͔̏ͤͯ̆ ͣ͐͒ͪâ̺̻̣̬̪̰̮̒͌ḷ̪͚͙ľ͓̝͍̞̚ ̺͙͖͙̭̗̞́ͧ̽̿̅̊Ċ͙͑͋̓͐̎ͮo͎̜͉͇̜̣̒ͫ͒̑̊ͧ͂m͕̳̫̿̄ͮͨs̝͙͇͖͕o͉̺̹ͅ ̲͍̜̞̠̦̓̌ͩ̈ͩͪf̠͙̙̜͈ͧ̔ỏ̤̜̹̯̪̊ͥ̀̄ͨȓ̬̬̽̏ ̤̰̦̟̟̺̠a͕̯͇͉ͧ̐͆̃̑l̩̥̝̜̐͑̆͐͛l̮̺̳͛͂̓ ̰͓̘̹͚͋ͤ͌͑͛̌̓t̫͉̆̈̇̌͂ͬi̠̥̖̩̭͚ͩ̿ṃ̝͎̗e̜̱̰͕̜͒,ͬ͛͂ ̲̘̖̆ͬͣ̽̾ͭȳ̮̜̙͈̫̪͖ͪ͋̒ỏ̱͎̜̙ͫͯu̗̗̖̺̺̞͓͌̆͗̆ͨ̚ ̜̰̦͊ͮͨ̓̊̐d̝̞͍͍̠͒͐ͮ̎̍ͅo̻̯̘̖̱͚̘̐͛̍n͔̺̓͐̎̑̏͐ͨ'̝̲̤̺̜̰ͬ̈́ͩ̈ͯ̚t̺̻̱̳͚̯͉͊̌̒̾̐ ͔̝ͫͯ̋͐̎̈u͔̞ͪ̓n̮͔̭̩̼̺̠̈d͑̍ͨͭ̋͋ẽ̱̜͚̽ͧ̎ͅͅr̜̥̳͔͓̱̚s͗t̩͍̼̘̲͖̭̎ͧ̈́͆̍̐a̳̦̱̜̬̫̺n̥̊̐̆̄ͤ̾d̙̦͉̱̟̘̾̽ͅ,̜̣̘͑̑̔̚ ̭͎̞̲̝͐̓̍ͪ̏ͦd͌o͎̼̹̞̊͌̈́̇̊̚ ̟̟̹͔̞̖̂̊̍ͪͬ̄y͈̣̓̀͗o͙̝͖̬ͫͪ͌u̱̣?̣ ̦̤͗I̪͓͕͍̱͂ͫ͆ͧ͐̓ ͓̠̝́ͫd͈͍̫ͭ͗ͪ̎i̮͓̠̙͍̯͉ͨͨ̇͑̓ͪḓͪ̍̏̄n̓͛͗̃ͩ̒'͇͙̯̟̿̆̿͂̄ͩ͂t̤̭̺ͫ͋ͧ̓͂͒̋ ͖̭̖̓͑hi̥̅d͉̘̓̎͑ẹ̲̱̣̩̤̾̇ ͙͌ͬͧ͐̚f͚ͯͦr͓̥ͩo̭̓̄ͪ̆̽ͬm͙̠̩̖̲͕͕̾̐ͮ ̜̺̉̑y͈͐̋̄o̭͓̬̪̯̤̖̓u̘͎̳̦ͤͭ͒ͅ. ̯ͣ̾N͈͎̟̼͌͂ŏtͦ̑̎̍́ͧͩ ̪̋̽ͯͥȅ̼̭̠̮̈́͒v͑e̠͇͙̗̙̫nͪ̿͛ ̻͕̮͙̤̗̜͗̊̔̐͂̂Ḯ̩̜͉̱ͣ́̎̏̓ ̟̙̭̪͙̲ͩ̉̇c̬̺̥̖̭̺ͅo̩̹̰̱̘̱ͫ̅̚ű̬̤̞̦̩͗̒̅ͭ͌̽l̮̫̄̇ͭ͑̿̐̚d̫ͨ͌̈ͮ͂̉ ̣͕ͣ̆͛̈́͐h̑ị͇̺̼͙̬́ͥ̌̀ͥ̆̃d̙̲͖͍̭͕̘͆̓̂ͭͨ̄e̞̺̫̪̲̫͊̓̐ͤͧ ̈̾͗o̿̇u̹̫̼̲̳͙̾̒͑t̲̯͍̦ͭ̓͑̾ ̼͚̫͓̥͈͐̏f͔͚̣͙̰̆o̠͈̳̻̼̝̊ͩ̑̄̈̊r͓͓͉̜̜̼̬͋͌͐̓̇ ̠̯̠̭̻ͦ͋̍̅̿̆̓s͍͇͙ͩǒ͓̼̪ͅ l̪͉̱̖̻̦̊ͬͤ͆̀̚̚ȏ͈̦̪̪̩̗̯͗͋͊ͯn̠̥g͚̿̽͆͑̓ͬ.̗͔̣͙̤̳ ͚͂̿Y͕͉̯͎͗ͬ̾ͧͩͪͯò̠͕̼͇͉̹̓̾̌ͣ̒̽u̗̜̬̯̭͚̱͑͌̿͂ ̮̰̜͈̠̖̍̚d̦̆͆̍ͦ̈͑i̜̒d̲͒n̬̪̼̪̟̼͚͑'͇̝͔͇̺̥̺̎̉̌t̳̞̩̜̬̙̓ͯͪ̎̊̓ ̻͖̝͂͋o̱̤v̘̞ͪ̋̑ͮ̅̐̍ͅe͖͇͇͚̗ͪ̊̒ͦ̍̄rͬ̂̉ͮ̒l̖̞̰̮͆ͮo͑́́̚o̩̗̟ͣk̪̀ ̮͉͓̬͚ͬ͛̊̎͂m͌ͯ̓̔̈́͛͒e͉͈̥̺͊̉͑͑,̬̪̔ͭ͒̏̓ ̬͔̍̑͒̍̔͊͌y̦̰̗̙͖̼͓̑͐́ͤ͛ͫo̦̗͈̳̯̺͍ͧu ̐ͯ̔̍ͬ̚o͓͆͑̎ͮ̉̚f̝͇ ̗̺̺̭̜ͅa̯̭͓̝͉̓̀l̘͕̑ľ͇̰͔̯ͩͮ ̻̥̺̹̥̘p̣e̽ͮͫ̆o̤͈̱̺̞͖̻͋͆ͨͫ̿͐͊p̪̞̹͕͈̟̹l͇̘̙̞̲͚̈́̎ͣe͍̯̹͍͍̫͕̽̂ͪ ̣̞͍̖ͣͤ̏͊̑̏ͯͅk̼̗͉̮̜̒̿̍͑̂̒ͤn̠̘̳ͮo̔̾̐̑̔ͭ̆w͚̻̪̍ͪ ̪ÿ͍̻̣̥͔̙́̍̈̊̎ȯ͎̹͈̓u ̺̾̈́̂̊̚å̗͇̠͈r̔̑̎̑̔̚e͖͖ ͖̦̙̰̣͒ͦͯ͂͒̃̚m͍̯̘̞̝͙̔̅̃̂̉o͕r̥̭̈͌ͭẽ̝͚͉̟̰̐̓ͫͥ ͎̖́̊̎̒ͯ̚t̯͖̖͖̮̩̺̄̊́h̞͔ͪ̊̽͊o̹̰̍̋͂͑̽̓̆r̤͍̼̘̠̬͇ͧ͊̎͐ͯ̋̐o̜̺͎̗͎͍̔ͫ͆͛̂̏u͆̿͑ͥͪ̈́g̤͙ͨ̏ͦ̏h̼͓̻̾̾͆̓̉ͅ ̦̩͓̩̮̠̥̎̾͋̈͒̓́t̼ͧ̿͑̒h̠ͣan̤̭͔̻̹͕͚̾̿̓̄ ̻͓̓̈ͣ͌ͅtĥ̜̝̫ȃ̙̼̟͕̱͇t̫̦̳̫̮͛̋.̱̹̓̊͆̀ͅ" "Princess! Something's going on in the dungeon! Discord and a prisoner. We can't get in." "Y̦̖̣̖̯̳ͭ͒ͧo͍̲͐̎ͦ̈́̃ŭ̫̲̻̓͌̀͛͆ ̱̉k̰̺̱͐̋n̯̝͕͎͗ͮͥ͊̐o͉͉̝̗͙͉̻̍̅̅w̳ ̬̻̝̖̱̥͇ͬ̿ͬ͊̊w̦̱̦h̗͇͙̥̙̥ͦa͎̳̤͉̦ͬͫͅṯ̮͓̱͕͍̭ͬ̆ͯͦ̋̾ ̝̞̜͎̠ͧ̊̐͑h͍̗ͥ̌ͩ̿̊̇ͅa͓p͉ͩp̭̳͙̗̘̂ͩͥͅẹ̭̠͕͈ͫͣ̉́̑̿n̮͔͓̘̂̂ͬͤͧẽ̟̰d͍̺̹̏ͧ,̲̫̙͇̏͂̎̃̆͊̚ͅ ̮̠͓̳̯͔͕D͚̺̰̥͔͎͚r͇̻̘̯̣̺̳ị̙̫̭̳́ͬ͒ͦ̇ͨ͆fͯ́̿̃̉ͨt̟͚̣̰͚͚̍̑ͥ̎̈͆̓ḛ̻̻̑ͦͣͫr̺͈̠͖̣̬̎̌͒͌͊ͥ̚?̟ͧ͆̔ ̬̲̦̥̺̙͖̏͒̽̚Y̍ͤͦo̗̿͆̽̌̓ͧ̾u̹̙̤̟ ̲̹̼͔̙̺̱̂k̹͉͇ͫͭ̅ͦ̓̽̈n̻͎̘͎̤̟̩̈́̏̾͛͆ọ̻̪̘̇ͫͤͥ͗̈́̿w̼̭͍͔̰̓ͪ͌ͭ ͎̑ͥ͗ͭͨͫw͍͕̩̤̠̬͚ͬh͔͇̼͎ͪ̈́̋̄̋̉̈́y͔̰͌ ̙̠̼̲͊̏ͨyͫ̔õ̙̍u̼̙̐̎͐͒̍̅ͥ ̠̲̥̦ͦ̇c͉̺̱̼͈͍̜̽ͧ͑o̦̰̰̻̱̗͍ͩ͛ͬ̽̀̅ͮu̳̣͕̖̘͇ͭ̂̒ͥ̍̋lͪ̏͊̚d̼͍̰̖̺͚̪̒̆̅ͣͤ͑n̦̺̞̜̬̂'̫̯̤͎t ͮ̑ͮf̼̖̩ͧͧ̓̂ͫ̓͗ï̗̖̗̜͙̯͈̇ṅ̝̚d͍̩̭̪̿̏̍̎̾͆͛ ̬̣͑̇mͦ̍͌́̾͂̚e̅?͕͙̼̐͒ͅ" The Princess lit her horn and began a teleportation spell. "I̙̲͙̲̳t̺̰̞̺͈̭̻'̤̤̞ͅs̹͇̻̙̥̙͍ͫ̊̐̈́̄̑̽ ͓͖̠̩̈́ͧb̪͕̘ͥ̑́ͅe̻̙̬̍́͌ͯͤ̊c̙͚̤̻͉͈̪aͫͧ̒͋̽u̦͕͔͆͌ͭ̅̿̾̽s̩͚͖͍̬̱̄͛̓̓̓ͅe̘̮̫ͨ͋̆ͤͪ,̩̬̜̝̯̹̏ͮ̆ ̜͙̮͙̮̌̾͒͐̏t͍̙̺̻̘̝͉́͌̀̅̏ḣ͕̙̱̫̮e͉̘̪yͫ̒̌̓̎ ̤̖̮̲ͯc͙͈͕̗͍̐a͚͙̖̬͎̞ͯͩ̐ͬ͗̔̚ȗ͓͖ͧ̄̍̑͒̾g͖̲̲̟̪͇͉ͯ̈̎ͧͤ̋̏h͍̗̞̫̖͗͋ͫt̳̞̲ͫͤ ̭̦̠̤̬͕m̫̔ͩ̀e̗͕ ̘͔̊ͮ̚f̖̤̩͚̄̽̿ͦ̉ȉr̹͕̠̠͚̦̊s͕͍͙ť͎̱̤̟̜̝̅̔̂.̙̙̂͋̈̌̾" And with a flash of light, Discord was gone, replaced by the sovereign of Equestria.
Introduction by the AuthorWhen I look out at the vastness that is the multiverse, when I see all the beauty and all the terror of all time and space, when I apprehensively stalk the horrors that exist just beyond a mortal grasp, when I find that one square of land in one world has more depth than I ever imagined, it sometimes seems too vast, too unknowable, even for me. For one charged with defending the Cosmos to be so enraptured by the very thing it defends is dangerous. I get distracted, and Lurkers almost get through the Rift. The universes are much too wide and the diversity too great for even I to comprehend. I have been to all of them, of course. When Lurkers or Shakers sneak through, I have to bind myself to them. Help them fight. Make sure they never understand the incredible danger they live in. I Drift into their realm, I smite the forces that would destroy Order, and I leave. Some call me a hero, others a god. It doesn’t matter to me, either way. I exist to defend them. What they think of me, or don’t think of me, is not important. The next time I visit, the mortals, their children, and their gatherings are all gone, replaced. I watch universes be born, I’m there when they die. Keeping up friendships, or even a presence, becomes nearly impossible in the vast infinity that is Cosmo. When all is quiet, when the universes are all safe, when the Lurkers and Shakers and Vile Ones are still, when there is no struggle, then is when I explore the Universes. Each one holds millions of wonders, things even I cannot fully admire. I feel the dying pulse of a star, I touch the fusion of a sun, I examine the asteroids and the meteors, finding rare and precious metals. I explore worlds unseen by any before, and worlds that will never be seen. Sometimes I find life there, too. Sometimes it's even intelligent. The Lurkers don’t stop.They invade. They destroy. They enslave and devour, unnoticed for thousands of thousands of years. The Vile Ones impress their will on these mortals, the Shakers make sport of entire universes. They don’t appreciate the beauty, the joy, the splendor of the cosmos. They don’t see the individual glories of the worlds they attack. All they see is potential for destruction. I stop them to preserve the beauty of the Cosmos. I fight to protect the Rift so that the mortals can live normal lives. I wish to keep exploring the universes forever, to find more, to experience more. In that, I am an incredibly selfish creature. The Lurkers don’t stop, the Vile Ones never quit, the Rift is always besieged. I could abandon my post, leave, find a new place to explore, but I never do. I love the beauty too much. There was a time when I was no better than they. When I didn’t respect the Cosmos, when I saw Drifting as a chore, as my job. I never stopped to look at what I protected, I fought with a pronounced indifference. I used to believe I was much wiser and greater than the Mortals. I felt more at ease waiting at the Rift than Drifting. I hated my time spent in worlds, and ended it as soon as possible, not caring about the collateral damage. I caused as much destruction as I prevented, and I was just as frightening as the horrors beyond the Rift. That all changed, millenia ago, when I was stripped of my power. I was forced to cease Drifting, and stay in one world for a while. It was there I was taught to see beauty in the Cosmos. It was there I was transformed, and it was there that I found a reason to fight. For, my friends, it was there I learned of the Magic. This is my story.
VisitorFlash Sentry sighed a long, heavy sigh. This guy is never going to quit, not until Tartarus freezes over. As he nudged his prisoner forward once more, the never-ending barrage of madness assaulted his ears anew, louder and angrier before. "...ou will never understand the magnitude of your actions, you vile worm. I demand the kind of respect that you would show a creature of my stature and ability, and I especially demand you take your little pointy stick and shove it where the Star don't shine. The sheer arrogance of these lower life-forms makes me want to simply throw up my hands and let you get destroyed. Seriously, this is the most asinine and ridiculous treatment I have ever been subject to, and ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING? It's like I'm talking to empty Cosmo here..." And on and on and on. It was bad enough that he just so happened across this obviously drunk wretch behind the tavern, but it was at the very end of his shift, too. He was tired, and no matter how disciplined one becomes, sleepiness remains constant. According to the Royal Guard Canterlot Corps policies, dangerously drunk ponies are to be escorted home promptly. If one is too drunk to recall where home was, he would be put in a holding cell for a few hours, until he sobered up a bit. Every time Flash Sentry tried to bring up the notion of home, this stallion would start again about DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? and THIS RIDICULOUSNESS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. It was starting to give him a headache. "...ob to do, and you are not making it any easier. Now I am trapped in this Cosmo-accursed body, in this backwards world full of saccharine shenanigans and ridiculous physics. It's enough to make one SICK. Absolutely SICK." Sentry shook his head slowly, and poked him with the end of his spear once more. Seriously, this guy is as stubborn as a mule. As they slowly made their way into the castle compound, the unknown drunk decided he wasn't moving anymore, and was now sitting in the middle of the courtyard. "You filthy speck! Do you see what you are doing? I am the Drifter, and you cannot hold me forever! I will escape someday, and then you shall pay! You, your children, your grandchildren, your Gathering, your world, your Universe shall pay! I will become the destroyer of worlds, the darkest of nightmares, the harbinger of doom! I will become the vilest of... aggressors". On that last word, the unknown's voice lost it's self-righteous tone, becoming softer. Flash raised an eyebrow. What's wrong with this guy now? His quarry was currently standing still, staring in awe at a pedestal in the middle of the garden. "A Shaker was here? You fought off a Shaker? B-b-but... I didn't... I never... How did I miss this?" Without prompting, the dark blue stallion with a Galaxy for a cutie mark began walking into the stone garden. Flash followed him, partly out of duty, and partly out of curiosity about what had shut him up. "You... Your Realm... You survived a Shaker?" The stallion slowly approached the Discord Memorial. Commissioned after the Second Discord Conflict, this sculpture served as a reminder of the strife the Bearers went through, before being rallied by Twilight Sparkle. Of particular significance was the fact that, in the sculpture, Discord could be seen underneath the Six, laughing. The Unknown slowly approached the statue, touching it gently. He seemed to gaze into it's eyes, as if trying to read it's mind. "He's still in this world. We haven't much time." Flash Sentry raised his other eyebrow, as the stallion turned to face him. "I require an audience with your local authority. This is a matter of Cosmic significance." Flash donned a mischievous grin. "Of course, immediately. Right this way, sir." For once, he didn't have to poke him to get him going. Author's Note So, this story seems interesting to me. What do you guys think? NEXT CHAPTER: THE AUDIENCE
AudienceIt's been a great day, so far at least. Discord strolled down the halls of Canterlot Castle, a huge grin on his crooked face. All is going precisely according to plan. As he slowly made his way to the stairs, the guards parted and let him through. They didn't bow or show their disgust, but Discord could feel their mistrust. Not that I haven't earned it, he snickered to himself. Oh, but they'll come around eventually. Normally, Discord wouldn't have bothered with the stairs (he felt that menial tasks such as 'walking' were only for when he had some form of company, like his dear friend Fluttershy), but today was special. He wanted to savor every moment of his victory. His plan was bulletproof, at least he thought so, and it would forever take care of his one true fear. The dungeon of the castle, despite the rumors to the contrary, is actually fairly clean and well-furnished. It is intended as a holding chamber for anypony who acts in a disorderly fashion in and around the castle, and as such rarely has somepony occupied a cell for longer than a day. Many times it is a precautionary thing, and as such every attempt is made to comfort the occupants. This was not helping one particular prisoner, however. He was in the cell at the end of the hall, screaming half in Equish and half in some unpronounceable tongue. Discord could sense it, his quarry was close. "Guards, I would like to request a simple moment to speak to this poor, drunk prisoner." Discord said, embellishing his voice as much as he could. "Perhaps I could aid you in geting rid of him, or at least pinpointing his point of origin." The Royal Guard is a very diligent organization, but they didn't really have a protocol for a Draconequus requesting to speak to a drunk. "I promise I won't bring any sort of harm to the gentlecolt, and you can even watch me if you'd like." Discord allowed his eyes to become ridiculously huge, creating a fake cuteness that caused more gags than sighs. Hesitantly, the door guard removed the key from his armor and slowly opened the door, locking it behind Discord, as he was trained. "Thank you, fine sir. I'll be just a moment." Discord said, in his brightest voice. He then turned around, and smiled malevolently. "Me and the Drifter won't take up too much of your time, I promise." "D̑r͕͇̤͕͌i̘̦̯̮͍̲̗͛̈́̿ͩͪ̑f̜̣̘̥ͬͥ̽͐́̇̎t̉͛̈̏eͣ͐̍ͪ̈́r͕̩̗͍ͤ̆,͔̙̣̫͇̙͖̂ͮ̋ ̳̗̇̌͌̉̅̇I̳̪͕ͧ̃͊ ̤͉̥̺̬̱͇ͮ̒̌p͌ͮͩ͊ͥ͌r̞͈͈͈ͨ̅ͮͯ̃ͦe̦̹̥̰̘̓̌͂ͪ͂̑s͇̮̖ͫṳ̙̟̩̯̍ͨ̌ͤm̻͇̳͙̖̯͈̊ͯe̫̙͔̼̥̞̅̎͛ͯͨͩ.̲̭̲͈͐ͩ̓̈́̉ ̥͓̏͊̋A̋̂̽̆͒̔̉ͅ ̭̤͈̦͗̋́p̞ͮͬ̓̈́ͯ͛͌l͈ͦ̉ͦ̓́̂e̬̺͇͍͇̟̐̀a̭ͭͭ͒̃̓̒s͕͓̺͍̰̪ͣͯ̽ͅú̲ͧͫ̽ͤ̔͂r̝̙͊̔e̺͓̝̺̮̬̼͗̚ ͣ̉t̠̟̯͍̜̮̑̈͒ͅó͖̝͂ͬ͛ ̤ͪ́͊m̠͗ͬͧ̎̈́͂a̎ͣ̍̎̾̚k̖̠̗̳̲̱ͩ̎e͋̅͋́͌ ̬̎̉͌yͧ̇͌͐͐o̙̬u̯̜̫̺ͥ̒͊̇̍r̝̝̰͖̘ ͐a͖̦̻̜͉̔̔͒ͅͅc͕̮̳ͨ̋ͣ̎̽q͖̱̙̗̩͎̃́̃̆̀u̟a͇̞̤̻̋ͮị̠̝͍́ͅn̻̠͕̗̹̜̄́t̗̣̻͋a̫̺n̜͇͈̠͕̄c̯͆̒e̠̭̥̜̜̣͉̍ͩͭ͆.̠̜̪̺̜̅́̈͗͂" To those around, Discord's speech sounded like gibberish, but with a dark, menacing tone. It sounded like a thousand voices spoke every time he uttered a syllable, many of them screaming and crying. Those outside the room felt the temperature drop, and the guards instantly began trying to open the door. "S̟̬͔̹̣̩͎̽̓ͪ̃ͬ̐̓ḧ̰ͪ̑́ͦakͪe͚͐ͤr̦̣͗ͯ͒̽ͩ͑̚.̮̬̭̿̓̽̂̇ͧ͂ ̫̲̜̹̗̊̿̎͆̄ͫ́W̞̱̦̯̜̳͕͋̅͑͒̊ͦͧh̭̫̺͈̮̿̿ͫ̐͑͑a̪̟̯̪̝͉̯̍̑̌ͥ̚ť̮͎͓͈̀ͪ̆ ̠̖h̪̜ͤͪͨa̺̻͒̉ͫv̦͈̭͊e̫̰ͧ ̰̪͂ͮ͗ͦ̎̓̚ý̻̟͙̪͉̝͓͛̉̆ͪ̆o̫͔̙͉̗̥ͦ͒̉uͪ͒̌̿̍͆ͅ ̜͓d̦̼͙͐͒ͬ͐́ͦô̺̚n̯̜͇̺ͮͩ̈́̿̆ͣe̘͙͖̺̯̟ͭ̉ͮͣ̌ ͉͙̗̰͕͉͉͋̈́ͣͨ̌ͣt̩̎͊ͮͧ͂o̓ ̝̰̥̲̲̩̗̌ͩ̈̇̚m̘̤ẻ͖͔̝?̬̩̙ ͓̩͔ͬW̪̝̱͇̟̆ͬ̔h͍̮͙͕̽ͦ̉ͅy̾ͧ ̠͐͛̂c̟̰̼͇͚ͫ͗̈́͂̓a͑͑ͮn͓̮̩̹̍ͮ̅ͅ'͙̙̱̞̬̤̤̉t̟ ͕ͬͨ̄̑̐̆I̦̲ ͈̳̤̥̙̠̒̾̐̌̂̚̚ͅD͊̒͒͊ṟ̤̪̳̖̚ͅi̳̫̼ͪ̒f̯͉̭̙͇̯͋͛̋̓t̗̰͕͓͓?͎̦̈́̀͗̋ͣ̍̚ ̮̻̬͕͈̞̌͆͊̿̓I͇̤̽̀̅̚ ̞͖̣̾̓̇͛s̗̦̱̼̯ͬͪ́͑̂w̫̪̬̉e͇̠̺̙̫ͪã͖͚̦̭̘̄̿ͯr̞͈̬̘͈͇ͫ͊ ͎͓͕̰͉ͩ́̽͂̊b̼̫ͭy̗̜͔̔͊̑ͯ̈́́͐ ̝̜͙̝̦̻̹t͚͍͎̝̝̻̪̃͋̾ͫͨͤh̰̯̐e͕͇̟̣ ͯ͛̿̅̚G̫̘̬̮o̤͔̐̔͗͌̈́͂ď̗̯͎̫͓̜ͪͥ́̽̊̍d̆̋ḙ̳̬͇̲̪ͭ̈́̋͆̔ͮs̩͛̉ͣͥ̋̈́š͙͈̖̗͋ͭ̽̒̾̈́,̼͎͗̚ ̦̰̤͌̔̚ͅi͚͇̪̙͂̈́͐f͉͍̯̃ͩ ͎̮̳̐y̩̟̞͕ͩ͛o̯̺ͅu͚͉̮̘͋ͫ ̩̝̊̽ͤ̋d̖̻͉͆̈͒o̼̼͎̯͔͓̓n̤͍̝̗̖͆̇'̼̝̺̩͖͈̺̌ͪ͋̿t̤̼̳͙͍ ̤̮ͣr͍̋͛ͥ͐ͥeͮ͒ͯ̒̈̀l̄ͭ̀è̯ͤͫͮͮ̐̍a̱̓̃s̟̠̟̪̞̺͒e͎͍̣̣͔͐͆̅͆ͭ ̱̱̠̺̘m̰̣ẽ̖͇̫̣̥̜͎̄-̺̭͙̝̲͇̺ͧ̇ͯ̏ͦ̌̚" The Drifter responded in kind. Unlike Discord, when the Drifter spoke it sounded like a man who speaks a foreign language. The door wouldn't budge, it appeared to be magically locked. The guards began ramming it at full force. "D̲̣̲̹̲̄o͚̼̾͑̋n̠̫͉̣̖̹͂̈́̅̓̃͑̚ͅ'̓́t̻̥̼̿ ̝͎̗̺̥͍͖̎̆̉l̼͈̪̘̚̚ǒ͖̳̜̜͙̂ͤ̽̑o̼͚ͣ̏ͯ͋k̲̹̜̯̣̖̩̊ ̫͔̟͖ạͦ̄͂̾̚̚t͎̟̖̜͓͓̙ͩ́͌ͪͨ ̤͋̏m͚̱͇̗̹̲͒̉̑̑̿̇̀ȇ̱͌̇ͭ̍̇,̤̮̱̯̻̩̦̇̀̍̇̈̚ ̱̥͎̉̇͋̉ͯͥ͂ͅD͚͍̹͊̍ṙ͓̫̱̳ͨ̋i̳̣̘̺̊f̿̎ͩͭ̿̂͑.̙̟͓͈̳̖̹̑ ̣͇̿̀̈́̄Ì̝͔̜̯ͯ̓ ̍ca̹̝̣̼n͈̥͚̭ ͔͕͙̬͍͕̭ͩͨc̺ͨͦ̊͐̐̂̿ͅà͊ͥ͗̈́ͭ̃ḷ̹̰͍̰̞́͒͌̑̔̈́̄l̝̤̙̣͖ͬ̈́ͬͯ̓ ̊y̱͉͚̣̲ͦͨͬ͊̑o̾ͩ̂͑ͥ̐u̳̬̿̈́̑̿ͥͥ ̑͋D̹͕̩̼̦̮̠r̫̗̭̯ͯ͛i̬͕̦̪̻͖̓͌̍f̮ͭͤͪ̋,̱̩͕̥̠ͥ̉̅ ̟͔̥̺̥̝̞ͧͪ̍̑c̳̬̲̜͚̦̲ͦa̰̣͕͖͉̳̣͒͛̏̃̓̈̈́n̖̾̌ͦ͆ͨ̔̔'̖̯t̘͔ͮͬ ̯̳̫̠̩͎ͭͯͅI?̰̹͓͚͉͖̹̌̔̓̆ͧ̚ ̭̼̬̬̓ͨI̗̹̻̐̊̏̀ ̯̠̟̋̓̀ͧͅc̺̦̦̣͇̾ͩ͌a̙͔̖͗n̫̘̙͖ͥͦ̇ͦ̚ ̟̱̉ͯ͌p͕ͫ̋̐r̤̫͓̝̳̉̆͛̉̂͐ͨó̻̞̋̈ͩ́͋͂m͚̰͙̩͉ͮ̂̽̄i̠̗̊̿̏s͇͖̲̳̘͂ͮ̏̐̆ẹ̥̞̬͖̥̹ ͊ͪ̄̓ͧ̚y̖͉̲͓̜̩̪ͧ͒̓ͯo͚̠͍̩̜̲̥ŭ̠̻̫̲̤̼ͩ̽̿̈ͦ ̭̭͓͔̤͙͇̈́̃̃̇ͨ̋ͫÍ͉̘̎ ̩̰̭̱͂̓̈̃a̙̔ͨ͐̚m̫̲͉̦̪͉͒̄̑̏ ̘̩̬̮̺̥̂̆̌ͣͅh̗̳̜͆̉ͪ̌͆͗͒ẹ̞͎r̲̬͚͈̱͕͖e̬͕̻͛͋ͤͧͬ ̥͔̋̐̿̓̄͛̈́t̠̭ͩͣ̅ͤͤ͌ọ͔̭͍̇̓͌ ̙͚͎̜̱͕̺͗̍ͩ̇̈́̏̚h̙̖̹̦̠̗̊͛̅̑ẽ̊ͥ̈́l̞̣̪̬͋͌ͯp̬̹ͯ͌ͯ̄̎̍̆ ̤̤̝̉ỷ̯̱͗͌͂̈̃̈́ö̠͔́̎̏ͫu̩ͣ͐,͕͓̖̝̥̓̇̔ͣ̚ ̝̰̈̃̉D̦̪̟͈̘̪̿͒̽rͨi͖̜̫͎ͫ̇f͖̭.̯͋͂̍̿͂ͣ̚ ̔̓͆A̿ͥ͋ͣͤͧ̎n̥͉̫͙ͮͬ̒ͥͅḓ̭̯̩͓̜̬ͦ̃̂̋ͮ̉̇ ͈͓̱̙̝̪́t̹̥̟̤͙̬ͣ̽̌͑̐r̯̎̂̓̏u͙̘̜̳͙̻̰s͕̼͒ͣͮ̓̍ͣ̉t̥̔̇ͅ ̪̭̙̙m̆̒̓͌e͐̌̃ͬ͋̋ͩ, ̰̗̦͉̫ͫÿ̞̥̙͚̤͛͌ͩ͛́ō̲͙̮̋̇ͅū̪̮̰̺ͯ̀̑ ͋̀͌̊̑͊w̥͍̄̌ͦ̽͒͆̚ẳ̗͕̿̊n͍͌̊̏̐̅̔t̾̇̌̐ ͙̺̋̀ͨ̈̄̇m͈͔̲͉̣ͫ͊͆̐y̗̟̥ ͓̖̲͉ͯ̊ͮ̒̿h̪͓̲ͮ͆̒͋e̒͐ͫ͌́l̫̝̬͓̂̅ͅp͕.͍̼̪̙̻̖̝ͬ" Discord laughed. "B̼̬͕̭̂͂̄̃ͭe̯͓̪̥ͬ̌̉͊̅̈s̠̼͇͍͍̞ͣ̋ͦͫͥ̃ͥͅi̬̰͈̻ͥ̿ͅd͓̣̍̍͂̄ḛ̼͉̣͖ͪ͆ͣͅs͍͎̻͉̋̈́̔ͦͧͅ,̻̹̖̘̗͚̳̊̉́ͧ̒̚̚ ͕̻͎ͬͤ͗͋t̯̘̠̠̟̳̲͊ͤ͗h̻̮͓͕͖e͙̬̗͂̂̊ͅr͙̠͈͔͔̭̞e̞̲̲̯̯̮̗ͬ ͎͎̭͓̙̑ͨ̓i̬̣͖̲̿͌̔͒̾͛͛s͓͎̮̜̭̯̅̓̓͂̔̀n͍̝ͯͥ'̰̰͈͙t̯̏ ̥ͭ̾ͣ̏̀̉̓m̻͎̼̓̅̈́͋̉̓u͛c͓̪̥̏͌̌̓͌̅ͫh̥̳̤̺ͦ̉̋͆͂̓ ͍͑͐y̙̪ͯ̂̀͑̋o̓͛̌̒̒ͬu̼̠̤͓͍ͨͥ͊͛͊ͨ ̤̥̼̈̂̅ͯ͊ͭc̗̙̱̟̻̭̝a̤̪͊ͯͮͯ̽n̩̳̦̘̦͉̽̾̅̾ͥ ̘̥̐do̱̞̣̪̪̬ͤͅ ̎̏̄̿̑b̲͙̜͇͔ͦ́ͮ͂ͨ͂y̟̥̬̖ͪ ͓͖ͯͬ͛ẏ͈̖͔̟̦͕̖o̟̻̬̣͆͛̓̾u͓͙̰ͬ̿̋̍r̰̦̹͙̜̬̥͋̐ͪs̩͑̓̾̃ͅe̊ͬ́l͔̟͆͊̀̅͒̔f͙̬̗̱͍̖̦ͣͦͮ ̖̘̩͖͚̒͗̿n̙̖̮̪͍͒̄̅́̿̓̐ó͎̝͔͙͔̓͆̆w̟̬̙̱̫͉͙ ̱͓̦͙̩̽̋͐ͧá̮ͣ̓̂̾n̪̻̹͚͈͒ͧ̇yͫͤͫw̟͇ͧͅă͚ȳ̠̳͓͍̞̐̓̓̾̉ͯ.̲ͭ̏̄͊ͦ̑̓" "T̝̟ͤ̓̽ͬͨ̂͑ḧ͙̱̤̤͔͈̹̅̍̚e̖ͭ͊̒̍ͫ̎̚y̮̗͓̱̙̞͂̔ͮ ̬̗͎̙̲̉̆̏͂ͯ̂c͚̙̖͇͕̻̔͋̀ͩͭ̓ͪa̰̮̖̋̌̿lͦͥͧͮ̾̽̚l͕̙̗̂́͑ͫ ͉̟͖̹͑̂̓̂ͧ̆ͪy̬̺͔͙͓͉̍oͤ̅̔ü̥̱̤̏͆ͅ ͍̘̝̻̯̤ͫ́̔̓D̰̦̭̟̹̃̒i̗͔ͣ̋̈́̔s͈̰̭̻̒̏c̫̳̓͗ͫ͛͑̄̄or̼̮̖̬͙͂̋͌͒dͯ̄ͥ,̳͍͎̣̖̂̽͗ͭ͊ͅ ͥd̰ͅo̹̙͉ͨ̍͗ͫ͂n͍̫̲̤͓̟͆̅̓͆̍͒ͦ'̬̳̱̠̅̊͆ͪt͎͚̅̿̾̅͊ͭ ̤͚͙̩̪ͧͪͧͦt͇̉̅̋ͧ̈́̇h͍̰̪̙̮̤ͮ̊̐ȅ͚̬̫̘̼̼ͅy̑͂?͚̺̪͌ ͍̫̤͙̻̾Ḥ̪̣̝͕̣͔ͬ̑̃͑̒̇͌a̖̓ͯ̀̌v̞̠̯̣̂ͤë̫̞̻͙́̈̄̇̉̈ ͋ͫ̆ÿ͓̭̞ͅo͎̠͎̹͈̰͎ͣ͑̾ͩͮ̉̏u̙̪͖ͧ͌ ͚͉̭̦̦̑̄e͕͓̥͖̿̉̈́̏̒̾ṋ̇ͨ̾ͫ͗ͯs̟̙͖̗̮l̖͖̄͑͌ͧ̅͊ͭå̯͓̘͖̖̩̭v͖͖̫̺͇e̞͇̽ͫ̔̔̉̾d̲̺̘ͬ͆ ̥͚̖̰̿ͧ̐ͯͫ̿t̳̙͙̟̏͂́ͥ͊h̝̠̫̹̏̓̔i̭͛s̤̟̭̼̿͂͒͗ ́ͥw̳͖̌ͧͅoͪ͐͐̏͗͌ͬr͍͎̲̰̜̒̀ͦlḓ͇̩̞̭̰͐̋̿ͥ̈́ ͉͇̙̻̗͔͈̂͗̎̈́̇ͥä̱̮͇̝̦͎̟́ͪͭl̺͗́̿r̟͚͔̘̠̘̅̓̉ͪ̈́e͎͖a͈̩͓̩̻͎̺̽̇͑͒̈́̓d͖͕͔͖͙͔̯y̭̘̘͉͙̮̹͐ͬͬ͗̾̇̚?̳̱̙ͭ͗̌ͧ͋ ̓̅ͦ͛̚A̖̤̾̿ͨ̑͌̇r̭̮͒e̗̤͉ͤ͒̋͑͒ ͚̩͇͔̭͉̱̋̽̽y̫͂ͫo̯̥͎̰ͤ́̊͗u ̖̝̲̄a̟̪̼̳͕ͬ̆͗l̬̪̯̭̭̜͖͐̈́ͥͩͩ̃r͕͚͍̎̎̇͋̍̀e̟͓͔͎̥̣͔̋ͤa̼̝̥͈ͨ̐d͚̫̦̋̿̚y̯ ̹̮͔̻̰̩̅͗ͩ̓ͨͯp̜͓̦̼̳̫̥̀̏͋̂̈̚l͓a̬͓̘̥͇̜̞̓̾͒̔ͨ͑ṇ͈̤̩̘̱͙n̦̾i̙̙̝̥͙̟ͦ̔ͅn͚̐ͤ̈́̓̆g͎ ̮̯̜̰̝̗̺̂̊͆̈́t͉̿͐̔͛ͧͅhͯ͂ͥe̘ͤ ̖̰͓̼̜͉͊̔d͔̣͙e̻̺͇̰̻ͧ̈ͪ̂̊ś̗̼͔̭̱ṭ̩r͌̎ͪͥ͑u̫͔͔̒ċ͙̦̭͔̏t̥̗̬̟̱̮ͥ͗͗̑̍̅͂ḯ̼̒̓̌͗̄̐ͅo͕̩̤̅͐ͥ̈̅ͅn͌ͬ̈ͧ͑ͫ ̥̻̪ͮͮͅo͓̻̭̣͉̦͛ͭ̏͋͒̍͊f̲̥̱̲̖̫̎ͧ͆̽ͅ ̰̇̅͊ͯt͇͔͕͎͙͇̙ͥ̆͛̌h͓iͬs̗̮̭͈͚͓ͧ͂ ̠̞̝̦̣̳̂̌̈ͫ̚ṷ̹̾ͫ͑̊̓̚n̹̖͒ͧ̌͗́ͯǐ̫͎̳͙̺̭̜ͣ̆ͭv̦̗͒e̍ͧ́̆r̖͍s̗͈̖̦̘͉̓̔̄͐̚ḙ͔̹ͨ?̟̹̠̮̲̠̝ͨ͗ͭ" The Drifter's eyes radiated malice. "H͔͖͔̥̀̑̒̉ȯ̭̠͖̞̲̞ͬͅw̼͍͇͛ͨ̿ͤ͒͆̆ ̹̲̖ͩ͌d̯̗̊͌͐̔̇̚î͋ͤd͔ ̝̬͒̾ͩ̎̑́̌y̒ͨ̊o̗̦̝͙͖ṵ̖̝̟̼͈̊͂ͮ̾̎͑ ̻͓̝̇h͙̿ͫͅỉ̝̝͉ͅdͦ̍ͭ̀ͭ͒e̘͗ͣ̇ͣ ̲̙͙̔̋͒͗͋̍f̣̰̱͓͔̥̀̃ͦ̿r̼̖̟̄ͨ͐̇o̤̯̅m̱̲̤̩̣ͨ͑ͩ̐ͣͬ̈́ ̦̞͖͙͓ͯ͊̍̋ͅḿ̝͉ͧͬ̎͆̌ͅe̗̦̻ͨͮ̒̎ ͎̀̋͐ͩ͑ͤf̦͈͉̹͂͊ͯͩ̾o͈ͣ͛ͬ͗͗̊r̘̙̳̱̺̞̃̆͆́ͮ̅ ̼̲̲͉͇ͅŝ̪̫͎̝̾͒o̭̜̮͓̮͑̎ͧͦ̂͆̍ ̰̜͙̏̇͑̄̎l̖ỏ͔͍ͦ̄ͧ͋n̖͖͚̉̃ͣ̈̎g̘̥̥͂͊̍̿̔?̘̞̲͉̮̀̇͛" Discord laughed as the guards sent somepony to alert the Princess. "Yo̲͈͈ͮ̽̎͛͋ͥu̯̥̜̼̫̓ͬͪ̋̍̽ͅ ̝̠ͯs̻̤ͫͨͣ̅t̻̥͙͓̦͓͊̆̿͑ḯ̱ĺ̥̳̳̯͍͓l̾ͬ͋̊ͨ ̲̉̄͊ͮ̃ḏ̲̬̩̎̔ͨ̆̀o͙͇͙̪̮̠̼̎̈͒n̤̣͚̰͔͖̪'ͦͩ̒̍ͪ́͛t̬̄ͧ̈̄ͣ ͙̱͕̩̬̯̇ͮ̏ͣ̎ͪͅs̠ͧe͖̒ͯͧ̎̂e̞͍̩̣ͬ ̪͊̅͛̈̽̋̋ĩ͇͖͔̰͈̇́ṱ̦̼̙͍͍̭̀̎ͤ͑ͫ̄,̪̯͇̜̹̏̑̓̋ͭ͛ ̼̋͗̾͆̎d̯̪̞̿ͤô͉̼̌̊̎ ͎̘̖͍̖͎̝͋͗y̞̟̳̑͂ͭ͊o͇ͮ̋͌̽ṳ̬͓͇̦̓̒̓?̾̈́̎̎ͬ̇ ͉͇͔̗ͬ̀̽́̓W̬̮̪̦̝̞̓̋ï͈̳̻ͧͫ̒tḫ̮̽̀͑̂͐ ̭̩̯̝̱͉ͣa̲͕̬͔̔ͦl̳͕̩͐́ͥ̂ͫl͎͗ͪ ̺̈̔̄̈̅y̖̍͂̏ͩͮŏ̦͓͕̙̟ͫ̆ṵ͇̼͈͊ͤ̊͋̎͋̐r̘̄ ̪̩w͕̤̩̹̘͛́͑̈ͅi̮̞̻̬̼s̬̪̦̒̎͐ͪ̑̿ͬd̪̩̻̬̈́͊ͮo̰̣̹̘͑̉̅ͦͭͭm͙̦͙͚͍͛͑͒ͅ ̞̮͕̹͚̘̄̈f̯͚̗̰͛̐̎͒ͬ͊͌r͛́͌o͕̳͈̊͌̓͗ͫm̤̼̗̬͎̖͕͊̄ͫͦͭ̉͒ ̯͐w̦͒ͣ̏̅ͪ̏a͍̯̬̤̽ͣ̂ͅẗ̺̙̲̐̓ͨ͂̈́ch̗̼̠i͇͖̘̰͍n̖̊ͪg̺̮͔̏ͤͯ̆ ͣ͐͒ͪâ̺̻̣̬̪̰̮̒͌ḷ̪͚͙ľ͓̝͍̞̚ ̺͙͖͙̭̗̞́ͧ̽̿̅̊Ċ͙͑͋̓͐̎ͮo͎̜͉͇̜̣̒ͫ͒̑̊ͧ͂m͕̳̫̿̄ͮͨs̝͙͇͖͕o͉̺̹ͅ ̲͍̜̞̠̦̓̌ͩ̈ͩͪf̠͙̙̜͈ͧ̔ỏ̤̜̹̯̪̊ͥ̀̄ͨȓ̬̬̽̏ ̤̰̦̟̟̺̠a͕̯͇͉ͧ̐͆̃̑l̩̥̝̜̐͑̆͐͛l̮̺̳͛͂̓ ̰͓̘̹͚͋ͤ͌͑͛̌̓t̫͉̆̈̇̌͂ͬi̠̥̖̩̭͚ͩ̿ṃ̝͎̗e̜̱̰͕̜͒,ͬ͛͂ ̲̘̖̆ͬͣ̽̾ͭȳ̮̜̙͈̫̪͖ͪ͋̒ỏ̱͎̜̙ͫͯu̗̗̖̺̺̞͓͌̆͗̆ͨ̚ ̜̰̦͊ͮͨ̓̊̐d̝̞͍͍̠͒͐ͮ̎̍ͅo̻̯̘̖̱͚̘̐͛̍n͔̺̓͐̎̑̏͐ͨ'̝̲̤̺̜̰ͬ̈́ͩ̈ͯ̚t̺̻̱̳͚̯͉͊̌̒̾̐ ͔̝ͫͯ̋͐̎̈u͔̞ͪ̓n̮͔̭̩̼̺̠̈d͑̍ͨͭ̋͋ẽ̱̜͚̽ͧ̎ͅͅr̜̥̳͔͓̱̚s͗t̩͍̼̘̲͖̭̎ͧ̈́͆̍̐a̳̦̱̜̬̫̺n̥̊̐̆̄ͤ̾d̙̦͉̱̟̘̾̽ͅ,̜̣̘͑̑̔̚ ̭͎̞̲̝͐̓̍ͪ̏ͦd͌o͎̼̹̞̊͌̈́̇̊̚ ̟̟̹͔̞̖̂̊̍ͪͬ̄y͈̣̓̀͗o͙̝͖̬ͫͪ͌u̱̣?̣ ̦̤͗I̪͓͕͍̱͂ͫ͆ͧ͐̓ ͓̠̝́ͫd͈͍̫ͭ͗ͪ̎i̮͓̠̙͍̯͉ͨͨ̇͑̓ͪḓͪ̍̏̄n̓͛͗̃ͩ̒'͇͙̯̟̿̆̿͂̄ͩ͂t̤̭̺ͫ͋ͧ̓͂͒̋ ͖̭̖̓͑hi̥̅d͉̘̓̎͑ẹ̲̱̣̩̤̾̇ ͙͌ͬͧ͐̚f͚ͯͦr͓̥ͩo̭̓̄ͪ̆̽ͬm͙̠̩̖̲͕͕̾̐ͮ ̜̺̉̑y͈͐̋̄o̭͓̬̪̯̤̖̓u̘͎̳̦ͤͭ͒ͅ. ̯ͣ̾N͈͎̟̼͌͂ŏtͦ̑̎̍́ͧͩ ̪̋̽ͯͥȅ̼̭̠̮̈́͒v͑e̠͇͙̗̙̫nͪ̿͛ ̻͕̮͙̤̗̜͗̊̔̐͂̂Ḯ̩̜͉̱ͣ́̎̏̓ ̟̙̭̪͙̲ͩ̉̇c̬̺̥̖̭̺ͅo̩̹̰̱̘̱ͫ̅̚ű̬̤̞̦̩͗̒̅ͭ͌̽l̮̫̄̇ͭ͑̿̐̚d̫ͨ͌̈ͮ͂̉ ̣͕ͣ̆͛̈́͐h̑ị͇̺̼͙̬́ͥ̌̀ͥ̆̃d̙̲͖͍̭͕̘͆̓̂ͭͨ̄e̞̺̫̪̲̫͊̓̐ͤͧ ̈̾͗o̿̇u̹̫̼̲̳͙̾̒͑t̲̯͍̦ͭ̓͑̾ ̼͚̫͓̥͈͐̏f͔͚̣͙̰̆o̠͈̳̻̼̝̊ͩ̑̄̈̊r͓͓͉̜̜̼̬͋͌͐̓̇ ̠̯̠̭̻ͦ͋̍̅̿̆̓s͍͇͙ͩǒ͓̼̪ͅ l̪͉̱̖̻̦̊ͬͤ͆̀̚̚ȏ͈̦̪̪̩̗̯͗͋͊ͯn̠̥g͚̿̽͆͑̓ͬ.̗͔̣͙̤̳ ͚͂̿Y͕͉̯͎͗ͬ̾ͧͩͪͯò̠͕̼͇͉̹̓̾̌ͣ̒̽u̗̜̬̯̭͚̱͑͌̿͂ ̮̰̜͈̠̖̍̚d̦̆͆̍ͦ̈͑i̜̒d̲͒n̬̪̼̪̟̼͚͑'͇̝͔͇̺̥̺̎̉̌t̳̞̩̜̬̙̓ͯͪ̎̊̓ ̻͖̝͂͋o̱̤v̘̞ͪ̋̑ͮ̅̐̍ͅe͖͇͇͚̗ͪ̊̒ͦ̍̄rͬ̂̉ͮ̒l̖̞̰̮͆ͮo͑́́̚o̩̗̟ͣk̪̀ ̮͉͓̬͚ͬ͛̊̎͂m͌ͯ̓̔̈́͛͒e͉͈̥̺͊̉͑͑,̬̪̔ͭ͒̏̓ ̬͔̍̑͒̍̔͊͌y̦̰̗̙͖̼͓̑͐́ͤ͛ͫo̦̗͈̳̯̺͍ͧu ̐ͯ̔̍ͬ̚o͓͆͑̎ͮ̉̚f̝͇ ̗̺̺̭̜ͅa̯̭͓̝͉̓̀l̘͕̑ľ͇̰͔̯ͩͮ ̻̥̺̹̥̘p̣e̽ͮͫ̆o̤͈̱̺̞͖̻͋͆ͨͫ̿͐͊p̪̞̹͕͈̟̹l͇̘̙̞̲͚̈́̎ͣe͍̯̹͍͍̫͕̽̂ͪ ̣̞͍̖ͣͤ̏͊̑̏ͯͅk̼̗͉̮̜̒̿̍͑̂̒ͤn̠̘̳ͮo̔̾̐̑̔ͭ̆w͚̻̪̍ͪ ̪ÿ͍̻̣̥͔̙́̍̈̊̎ȯ͎̹͈̓u ̺̾̈́̂̊̚å̗͇̠͈r̔̑̎̑̔̚e͖͖ ͖̦̙̰̣͒ͦͯ͂͒̃̚m͍̯̘̞̝͙̔̅̃̂̉o͕r̥̭̈͌ͭẽ̝͚͉̟̰̐̓ͫͥ ͎̖́̊̎̒ͯ̚t̯͖̖͖̮̩̺̄̊́h̞͔ͪ̊̽͊o̹̰̍̋͂͑̽̓̆r̤͍̼̘̠̬͇ͧ͊̎͐ͯ̋̐o̜̺͎̗͎͍̔ͫ͆͛̂̏u͆̿͑ͥͪ̈́g̤͙ͨ̏ͦ̏h̼͓̻̾̾͆̓̉ͅ ̦̩͓̩̮̠̥̎̾͋̈͒̓́t̼ͧ̿͑̒h̠ͣan̤̭͔̻̹͕͚̾̿̓̄ ̻͓̓̈ͣ͌ͅtĥ̜̝̫ȃ̙̼̟͕̱͇t̫̦̳̫̮͛̋.̱̹̓̊͆̀ͅ" "Princess! Something's going on in the dungeon! Discord and a prisoner. We can't get in." "Y̦̖̣̖̯̳ͭ͒ͧo͍̲͐̎ͦ̈́̃ŭ̫̲̻̓͌̀͛͆ ̱̉k̰̺̱͐̋n̯̝͕͎͗ͮͥ͊̐o͉͉̝̗͙͉̻̍̅̅w̳ ̬̻̝̖̱̥͇ͬ̿ͬ͊̊w̦̱̦h̗͇͙̥̙̥ͦa͎̳̤͉̦ͬͫͅṯ̮͓̱͕͍̭ͬ̆ͯͦ̋̾ ̝̞̜͎̠ͧ̊̐͑h͍̗ͥ̌ͩ̿̊̇ͅa͓p͉ͩp̭̳͙̗̘̂ͩͥͅẹ̭̠͕͈ͫͣ̉́̑̿n̮͔͓̘̂̂ͬͤͧẽ̟̰d͍̺̹̏ͧ,̲̫̙͇̏͂̎̃̆͊̚ͅ ̮̠͓̳̯͔͕D͚̺̰̥͔͎͚r͇̻̘̯̣̺̳ị̙̫̭̳́ͬ͒ͦ̇ͨ͆fͯ́̿̃̉ͨt̟͚̣̰͚͚̍̑ͥ̎̈͆̓ḛ̻̻̑ͦͣͫr̺͈̠͖̣̬̎̌͒͌͊ͥ̚?̟ͧ͆̔ ̬̲̦̥̺̙͖̏͒̽̚Y̍ͤͦo̗̿͆̽̌̓ͧ̾u̹̙̤̟ ̲̹̼͔̙̺̱̂k̹͉͇ͫͭ̅ͦ̓̽̈n̻͎̘͎̤̟̩̈́̏̾͛͆ọ̻̪̘̇ͫͤͥ͗̈́̿w̼̭͍͔̰̓ͪ͌ͭ ͎̑ͥ͗ͭͨͫw͍͕̩̤̠̬͚ͬh͔͇̼͎ͪ̈́̋̄̋̉̈́y͔̰͌ ̙̠̼̲͊̏ͨyͫ̔õ̙̍u̼̙̐̎͐͒̍̅ͥ ̠̲̥̦ͦ̇c͉̺̱̼͈͍̜̽ͧ͑o̦̰̰̻̱̗͍ͩ͛ͬ̽̀̅ͮu̳̣͕̖̘͇ͭ̂̒ͥ̍̋lͪ̏͊̚d̼͍̰̖̺͚̪̒̆̅ͣͤ͑n̦̺̞̜̬̂'̫̯̤͎t ͮ̑ͮf̼̖̩ͧͧ̓̂ͫ̓͗ï̗̖̗̜͙̯͈̇ṅ̝̚d͍̩̭̪̿̏̍̎̾͆͛ ̬̣͑̇mͦ̍͌́̾͂̚e̅?͕͙̼̐͒ͅ" The Princess lit her horn and began a teleportation spell. "I̙̲͙̲̳t̺̰̞̺͈̭̻'̤̤̞ͅs̹͇̻̙̥̙͍ͫ̊̐̈́̄̑̽ ͓͖̠̩̈́ͧb̪͕̘ͥ̑́ͅe̻̙̬̍́͌ͯͤ̊c̙͚̤̻͉͈̪aͫͧ̒͋̽u̦͕͔͆͌ͭ̅̿̾̽s̩͚͖͍̬̱̄͛̓̓̓ͅe̘̮̫ͨ͋̆ͤͪ,̩̬̜̝̯̹̏ͮ̆ ̜͙̮͙̮̌̾͒͐̏t͍̙̺̻̘̝͉́͌̀̅̏ḣ͕̙̱̫̮e͉̘̪yͫ̒̌̓̎ ̤̖̮̲ͯc͙͈͕̗͍̐a͚͙̖̬͎̞ͯͩ̐ͬ͗̔̚ȗ͓͖ͧ̄̍̑͒̾g͖̲̲̟̪͇͉ͯ̈̎ͧͤ̋̏h͍̗̞̫̖͗͋ͫt̳̞̲ͫͤ ̭̦̠̤̬͕m̫̔ͩ̀e̗͕ ̘͔̊ͮ̚f̖̤̩͚̄̽̿ͦ̉ȉr̹͕̠̠͚̦̊s͕͍͙ť͎̱̤̟̜̝̅̔̂.̙̙̂͋̈̌̾" And with a flash of light, Discord was gone, replaced by the sovereign of Equestria.
