Feathers and Fangs

by Jet Howitzer

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 8288

An ancient curse, long since forgotten, comes to power once again, and plunges Equestria into a new age.

All the creatures of Equestria, from ponies to manticores, and every other living thing has a core of magical energy within them. And this magic is susceptible to the energies of the world. An ancient evil seeks to use this ever present magic to bring about a new day and age. However, an unlikely group of heroes emerges to thwart the coming doom that threatens the land.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-06-12 04:40:38 UTC

-1- A Gryphon, an Earth Pony, and a Unicorn walk into a bar...

-1- A Gryphon, an Earth Pony, and a Unicorn walk into a bar...

The lone mercenary, surrounded by an enthralled audience, told his story with a level of grace and elegance more common in bards than those who made their living on the edge of their sword.  His dramatic pauses were all expertly placed, and of sufficient length to draw in the crowd each time there was a lull.  The gryphon in the room glared at the storyteller, his eyes narrowed and a tiny twitch in his eye being his sole movement.  Also seated at the table of the gryphon were two ponies, each carrying their share of scars and still healing bruises.

The mercenary’s tale reached another minor climax, and for a moment the storyteller leaned back, resting on his laurels as the eager crowd ordered him yet another ale, hoping that he’d be willing to continue.  After draining half the tankard of fresh ale, the mercenary started up the next part of his story, going on about the eternal threat offered by the changeling menace.

The gryphon started to push himself back from the table, but a firm hoof came down on his claw of flesh and blood, staying him.  “Don’t, Tyr.”  The gryphon looked to the pony for a moment, and then shrugged off the hoof, but remained seated.  The two ponies shared a quick glance, and then settled their gaze on the mercenary, hoping that their wayward companion would soon return.

“We needs must depart, soon, from here.  This mercenary’s tale stinks worse than your cooking, Shield.”  The white unicorn, despite his normally joyful tone, seemed deadly serious.  He tore his gaze from the mercenary long enough to look to both the gryphon, and his eternal rival.  “Surely even Sleight, bumbling harlot that she is, wouldn’t take this long to break into the larder.”

“We give her two more minutes before we take steps.”  The gryphon didn’t tear his gaze from the mercenary, but he motioned with his beak towards the door behind the counter.  “Hex, can you use anything to see back there?”

“No.  The innkeeper warded it.  Unless I was in there, I couldn’t magically affect anything inside.”

“... Although that tale pales next to when I visited the Gryphon Empire.  Why, I’m sure that this good gryphon would gladly tell you of the splendors to witness within his esteemed home.”  The small crowd quickly turned, and split, so that Tyr could see both the mercenary and the eager faces of each member of the crowd.  “Please, my fine feathered friend, tell them of the glorious Frozen Falls, and the ice caves in which your kind once dwelled.”

Tyr noted, with small satisfaction, that there was just the smallest pleading note buried in the mercenary’s words.  Seeing his opportunity to knock down the pony, clearly not a mercenary after all, Tyr was all too glad to use the opportunity.  “Aye, mercenary.  Although I’d rather tell these gentlebeings about some of your other tales.”  A new patron entered the inn as Tyr stood, and a quick glance revealed yet another unicorn entering the room.  Not wearing the armor of the royal guard, so Tyr paid the newcomer no further attention.  “Namely the changelings, and the dragons, whom you so bravely battled.”  The gryphon advanced on the not-mercenary, and gave the kind of smile that only a gryphon could give.  “Remind me, mercenary, where did you do battle with them?”

“The icy pass of Ysmir’s Beard, where my warband did battle with Gilgareth, a mighty dragon of great renown.  And then, in the arid west, the Badlands, my company was beset upon by a swarm of changelings, eager to capture us and suck us dry.”  The mercenary seemed confident, and his small smile spoke volumes.

“Gilgareth has been dead for three generations, warrior.  How, then, did you, and yours, slay the mighty beast?  Or are you the mighty warpony Falchion, who did battle alongside some of my ancestors to slay the beast?  And these changelings, whom you battled.  Surely a warrior as wizened as you in the ways of combat would know that the changelings don’t truly do battle that way.  In open combat, they seek only to kill.  They capture only when the chance becomes available, and they are not fighting for their lives.”  Tyr stopped just before the table, his gaze level with the mercenary.  “I’d wager that you aren’t really a mercenary, and that you only spin this yarn to garner the good grace of these humble citizens.  And, further, you displayed utter ignorance of the changelings in nearly every aspect, and the dragons more so.  Good folk, this pony is a fraud, and a charlatan.  He has played you for fools, and wishes only to mooch from you, your hard earned bits and vittles.”

“You...  I...  And what makes you so great, gryphon?  I’d wager that I’m twice the warrior you are, and a better storyteller besides!”  The mercenary glared back at Tyr as he responded.  “Well, chicken, what say you?”

“I’ve no time for you, and your petty squabbling with me.  I only wished to show these ponies who they were speaking to.  I’ve no need to debase myself just to give you a chance to embarrass yourself further.”  Tyr quickly turned, and found himself looking at a set of three angry looking ponies.  “And the trap is sprung.”  Before Tyr could utter one further sound a bolt of brilliant white light flew from the gryphon’s left, smashing into one of the trio, throwing him several feet over, and revealing the disguised changeling.  The other two were faster to act, and Tyr soon found himself pinned under the fanged assault of the rather large changeling who had bulled him over.

Nothing but quick training gave Tyr the chance to bring his arcane worked iron talon to bear, forcing it into the changeling’s fanged maw.  The threat wasn’t gone, though, as the beast still had the capacity for magic.  A sickening green glow surrounded the monster’s horn, and Tyr only just managed to jerk his head to the side, avoiding the released bolt of lethal energy.  The gryphon felt an odd sense of detachment as he saw that the creature lacked the once characteristic holes of their kind.  The moment was fleeting, though, and before he even realized it happened, he brought his other talon into play, forcing it up and around the monster’s horn.

A pulse of lightning ran down the gryphon’s arm, but it lasted only a moment before Tyr wrenched the beast’s horn from it’s body, sending the creature into a blind panic which quickly ended as the creature’s magic fled from it’s body, leaving it a lifeless, and far lighter, husk.  With the foe dispatched, Tyr shoved the husk aside, and quickly got to all fours, before noticing that the others were already dead, leaving just the mercenary, now revealed changeling.  All of his bravado was gone, and he merely looked at the enraged townsfolk and the approaching gryphon and company.

“No, stay away!  I just wanted to be able to survive, and move on to the next town!”  He pushed himself back, further, against the wall, desperate for space between himself and the others in the tavern.  “I don’t want to die, please!”

A pan flashed over the crowd, and connected solidly with the changeling’s head, knocking it out soundly.  A small bat pony fluttered overhead before landing atop the table and staring at the slumped over form.  “Then don’t die.”  Without pause, the filly turned in place and looked at Tyr.  “I did good?”

The gryphon nodded, and then looked at Hex.  “Summon the guard.  We’ve got our prize, and I aim to be paid.”  He paused, and looked to the gathered crowd.  “This is done.  Go about your business, or don’t.”  The group lingered for several moments, and then began to thin as some ponies left the building, and some returned to their original tables.  Less than five minutes after the fight ended, the tavern was back to normal, and Shield and Hex were seated at the table once again, this time with Sleight sitting atop the table between them, looking from one to the next as they traded insults.  Eventually several guards arrived, and took away the unconscious form, leaving a bag of bits with the gryphon.

After quickly counting the contents, the gryphon returned to the table, and retook his seat, his disposition barely increased, despite the rather sizable payment.  He looked to his three companions for a moment, and then he brought his gaze to the patrons, feeling a tingle along his spine.  “Something is still amiss.”  His words were softly uttered, seemingly ignored by his companions, but he knew them well enough to see the shift in their focus.

“The new unicorn mare.  Near the door.  She’s the source.”  Hex didn’t look at the mare in question, but Tyr could see the faint glow of his horn.  “She’s a changeling.  But not a drone, or even a warrior.  She’s different.”

“Can you isolate her magic?”

“She’s not using it, save for a tiny alteration to you, and the rest of us.  She wants to be noticed.”  Tyr glanced at his allies for a moment, and then looked directly at the unicorn for several moments.  She looked at him, their eyes met, and she looked away.

“Outside.”  He looked at Sleight, nodded, and then stood.  “Let’s not keep her waiting, then.”

The trio moved to the door, deliberately slowing near the unicorn’s table before heading to the outer structures, made for housing excess stock during times of plenty.  They didn’t wait long before the unicorn came out of the inn, and hurried over to the group.  She looked at each of them before settling her gaze on Tyr.  “Tyr Irontalon, I must say that it is an honor to finally meet you.”  She gave a small bow, and then met the gryphon’s gaze.  “My name is Nike, daughter of...  Well, my lineage isn’t all that important, anymore.  I am the last of my line.”

“Spare us, changeling.”

If the unicorn was taken aback, it didn’t show.  “Very well.”  She fidgeted for a moment, and then heaved a sigh.  “I have no monster’s for you to hunt, but I have a request all the same.  I must cross much of Equestria, and your group is fairly well known within these parts.  I would hire you as protection.”

“We’re not interested.  We hunt.”

Shield was visibly distressed, and he stepped between Nike and Tyr.  “Are you daft?”  He looked at the unicorn for a moment, and then back at Try.  “She’s the last of a changeling line!  She’s bound to have tons of treasures to pay us with!”

“We.  Hunt.  Monsters.  We don’t escort them across Equestria.”

“While I would normally question anything that comes from Shield’s mouth, he speaks some modicum of sense, Tyr.  I suggest we mark our calendars, and save this day as a holiday.”  Hex looked at the unicorn, and then back to Tyr.  “Truly, Tyr, be smart about this.  If nothing else, we could escort her till we find a new contract.  That way, we earn money simply for roaming as we normally would.”

“And what if it’s a trap?  She could, very well, be leading us to some ambush.”  Tyr glared down at the shorter pony, daring a response.  “Hex, you’ve shown wisdom countless times when I made rash decisions.”  A snort came from Shield, but none paid it any heed.  “Now, heed my warnings.  This is foolhardy, and you know it.  Sleight was gone long enough to have pilfered enough food for us to last till the next contract.”

“That bat pony of yours will be of no use much longer, Tyr, and you know it.”  Hex refused to back down from Tyr’s glare.  “She’s growing up fast, now, and soon you’ll have to make good on your promise to her.  What will you do then?  Go back on your word?”  The gryphon opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.  His beak snapped shut, and he glared at Shield, and then Nike before looking back to Hex.  “We’ve not promised her more than traveling companions, Tyr.  Once we find a new contract, we charge her for distance covered, and then we’re done with it.”

“Curse you, Hex, and your children, too.”  The gryphon turned to face the unicorn once again.  “Very well, changeling.  You’ve got our protection until we find a new contract, or we reach your destination.  You’ll have to pull your weight, though.  Hunting, gathering, setting up camp, and keeping watch.”  Tyr took a step forward, momentarily admiring the fact that the creature didn’t even flinch.  “But if I sense even a whiff of deceit, a trace of a trap, you can consider your life forfeit.  I do not give second chances to beasts that would give none themselves.”

/\***/\

Hex watched as Tyr stomped off into the night, likely headed for their camp on the edge of town.  The normally stoic gryphon had been growing increasingly agitated as summer drew nearer, and this was the first of, likely, many similar outbursts.  From the outset Hex had been confident in what the outcome would be, but the ordeal had to be seen through.  “He fears me.”  Hex turned to look at the unicorn.  “I have done nothing, but he fears me simply for who I am.  Yet he buries his fear with hate.”

“His story is his own.”  Shield scratched idly at the back of his head.  “I’ve heard him tell it once, but I’ll not share it.  It’s for him to tell.”

“Like as not, the mongrel doesn’t remember it.”  Hex quickly returned his gaze to the unicorn.  “Still, he speaks some truth.  Tyr’s story is his own.  Let us go, then.  Our camp is at the edge of town, and we’ll stay there till sunrise.”  Hex took a single step before he paused, and let out a shrill whistle.  After a few heartbeats, rushing wings heralded the arrival of Sleight.  “You heard?”  The filly gave a quick nod.  “Good.  Let’s go, then.”

Silence lingered in the air as the quartet made for their camp.  Other than the faint sounds of the town around them, all was quiet.  The unicorn trailed at the rear of the group as Shield played idle little games with the filly, waiting for her to leap atop his back before he’d knock her off.  Their games lasted for a short while before the filly grew bored, and decided to walk beside Hex.  The gray unicorn looked at the filly, and noted that she was far more somber than normal.  In a voice far more subdued than normal, she spoke.  “Does Tyr hate Nike?”

Hex nearly paused in his steps, but he managed to keep his pace.  “No, Sleight.  He doesn’t.  He’s afraid of her.  What she is reminds him too much of home, and things he lost.  You’ve heard how he lost his talon.”

“But Nike had nothing to do with that.”  The filly furrowed her brow, her wings shifting as she tried to puzzle out the gryphon.  “It was a different group altogether, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, child.”  Hex did pause at that, and he turned to face the newest follower.  “The gryphon, Tyr, hails from clan Long Wing.  His clan is known for being vicious, and relentless in hunting and pursuing their prey.  An enclave of changelings called the north their home, and they foraged for love and food in the same domains as did Tyr’s kin.  Time and myth painted those changelings as merciless monsters capable of more than even the Royal Sisters can do.  It became tradition to hunt down these beasts, and bring back their skulls as war trophies.”

“Are you of their kind?  You don’t have the accent, or the mannerisms.”  Hex tilted his head as he looked at the female.

“Ignore the charlatan.  I can hear some of your accent, but it’s subdued.  You aren’t northern, but central.  Canterlot, or somewhere close by, I’d wager.  Perhaps raised nobility, but born to the declining caste?”

“She’s not a pony, half-wit.  She’s a changeling, wearing the guise of a pony.  Pardon Shield, but he’s a wet match in a dark cave --”

“I know that she’s not a pony, you ignoramus, but perhaps --”

“You’re both right, to an extent.”  The two stopped and looked back to the changeling.  “I was born to nobility.  My mother, as I tried to tell you, was the same who birthed The Once and Only Queen Chrysalis.  My father was different, though, so I am not of the same blood.  My mother did fear for what I’d become, and so she spirited me away, to be raised amongst the gentler and less savage ponies.  It was a lengthy arrangement, and my identity was known to a select few.  I was to bridge the gap between ponies and changelings, but then my half sister had her tantrum, waged her war, and lost.”

“And there went any hope of creating a diplomatic first meeting.”

“Essentially, yes, Hex.  I tried to make some amends, but Princess Celestia was certain that nothing could be done for the foreseeable future.”  The unicorn motioned for the group to continue to camp, but she didn’t cease her tale.  “My adoptive family was paid handsomely, and forced into the declining caste, falling out of nobility and into the trading classes.  Not a hardship, by any means, but almost too much to bear for mother.  After some time, I left home, and began wandering.  Something has changed, though, and I feel a call that I’ve never once felt.  It is a darkness edging in on my mind, and I fear what I might do without some form of guidance.”

“We’re not protecting you, we’re protecting others from you.”  Shield and Hex shared a quick glance, and their demeanor shifted so subtly only Sleight noticed it.  “Perhaps Tyr was right.”

Nike’s gaze widened.  “No, please, I assure you, I am not a monster.  The urges come and go, but they’ve not once clouded my mind.  And my intent would not be lethal, merely an attempt to drain you of emotions.  They would return, in time, and you’d be none the worse.”

Hex dropped back so he was beside the unicorn, and he looked over her body quickly, before looking to her face.  “And you seek to discover what makes these urges present?”

The changeling nodded, and lowered her gaze.  “Not once in my life have I ever felt the need to harvest what has been freely given to me.  Yes, love is the most powerful agent for my magic, but even hate and loathing, and despair, can be made to work.  All of these, and more, I have used.  But never have I wished to take that which I am not given.”

Hex remained silent, for a time, as he thought on what he’d heard.  Shield was silent as well, and Sleight took to the sky, likely off to find something to put in her belly.  She was a clever girl, though, and Hex knew that the likely cover was just a chance for her to digest what she’d heard.  “Her whole life has been with Tyr.”  The changeling looked confused for a moment, and then her gaze softened.  “He found her when she was a newborn.  Promised her dying family he’d treat her right.  He’s her father, effectively, but they act more as siblings than father and daughter.  I don’t know if it’s really healthy for her.”

“She will be a great pony, some day.”

“She already is.  She doesn’t do what she wants because she wants to make Tyr happy.  Theirs is the least healthy relationship I’ve seen in some time.  She wants only for Tyr to be happy, and Tyr wants only for her to be safe, but by his side.  His promise makes him loathe to do what he wishes, and her desires are further at odds.  The only solutions make neither happy.”

The camp appeared in the distance, the fire already casting flickering shadows across the landscape.  Shield broke into a trot, eager to get something to eat, and some sleep.  Hex watched him go, and then looked to the changeling once more.  “Don’t speak to Tyr about what we’ve said.  I’m a good judge of character, but he’ll not trust you, even with my word.”

“You’ve known him longer, Hex.  I’ll defer to what you think is the best approach.”  The pair walked into the camp, and saw Shield hunched over a makeshift grating upon which sat several pans, already warming.  Before they could approach the cooking pony, though, there was a faint rustling, and then Hex found himself sprawled on the ground, looking on as Tyr pinned the changeling to the ground with one claw, while his metal one hovered over her head, the metal digits flexing slowly.

A strange hissing sound came from Tyr’s beak, and the changeling’s eyes widened for a moment.  Hex cast his quickest shield, but the changeling was a hair faster, bringing her own barrier up just before the gryphon’s claw could pierce her throat.  “Stop this, Tyr!  She’s not a threat!”

“Sleight told me enough!  She’s going mad, and I’ll not be subjected to the horrors her kind is like to wreak.”  His claw pressed down on her barrier, and Hex could see it wavering.  “This monster may preach to you, and pull you in, but I’ll not be so easily swayed.  We kill these things, Hex.  Why should she be different?”

Before Hex could respond, Sleight walked over, and placed herself between Tyr and the changeling, sitting atop the barrier she created.  She looked up at the gryphon, but said nothing.  The gryphon’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he leapt off the changeling, putting several body lengths between himself and the prone form.  “This will end poorly, for us.  But, if all of you are so set on seeing this madness through, fine.”  The gryphon took several steps closer.  “Ten bits per league.  Fifty per day.  You pay your own way for food and drink and lodging.”  He stalked closer still, his eyes unwavering as he stared down the changeling.  “And if you tell any lies to Sleight not even Princess Celestia, or even Emperor Balgruuf, will stop my fury.”

Not a sound could be heard as Tyr stormed off into the night, his wing beats fading into nothingness as he put distance between himself and the camp.  Shield looked over his shoulder at the others, and gave a weak smile.  “Really, I think that went quite well, all things considered.  Fifty bits says that before this whole adventure is done, he’s changed his mind about the changeling.”

“Your lightheartedness is a kindness, Shield, but I fear that you are mistaken.  His fears run too deep.  I cannot sway him, nor can any of you, until he decides he wants to be swayed.”

Dinner was a simple affair, and afterwards, Shield took first watch, allowing Nike and Sleight to retire for the night.  Hex stayed up, sitting beside Shield as he looked out into the gloomy darkness.  Every few minutes one would toss one of their cards down onto the pile, frequently to a curse from the other.  “Has he ever been gone this long, before?”

“Not to my recollection.”

“Probably all that cheap booze you guzzle down.”

“At least I’ve got bits to spend, unlike you.”

“Only because--”  Hex was cut off as Tyr dropped down in front of them, his beak bloody and his claws equally so.  “Oh.  Good that you’re back.  The others are already asleep.”

“Fine.  Wake me for the next watch.”  Without further comment, the gryphon stalked past the pair, and made for his tent.  He looked in on Sleight, first, and then resumed his walk to his tent, his shoulders slumped after his visit to the filly’s tent.

“You’re on, Shield.”  Shield looked at Hex, for a moment, and then a small smile came to his face.  “And another fifty says that he falls for her.”

Shield chuckled as he tossed down another card.  “Are we a cliched story, now?  That’s a fool’s bet, but I’d be glad to see you separated from your bits.”

Hex tossed down an ace, and smiled as he used his magic to cut a nick into the wooden stake Shield had stuck in the ground.  “I’m up four, now, and we’ve not got much room left on this stake.  Better get good, or get some money.  And I think that you’ll be surprised.  Tyr isn’t heartless.  Just distant.  And since Sleight likes her, that’ll do wonders.”

/\***/\

Dawn came, and with it the stirrings of life in the quaint town.  Tyr looked down at the citizens as they started living their lives anew, rushing to and fro as they sought to ensure the fields were well, and that the various livestock were in good health.  He could even pick out the running foals, still too young for work and allowed to run free and play.  For a moment the gryphon felt a pang in his heart, but he turned back to his camp before it could become something more than it was.  “Wake up, you sorry lot!  We’ve got ground to cover today, and I’m not waiting for you to finish your beauty sleep.”

A couple minutes passed, and then Hex and Shield each emerged from their tents, already wearing their respective gear, and ready to head out.  They immediately set upon their tents, quickly and efficiently tearing the structures down, and packing them up.  Nike, too, emerged already wearing her traveling cloak, and with a few quick spells her tent was bundled up, and stowed in her pack.  There was no sign of life from Sleight’s tent, though, and Tyr took a small step towards the tent.

Before he could close the distance any further, though, the filly zipped over Tyr’s head, and barreled into her tent, knocking the whole thing down and ensnaring her within the fabric.  Her laughter was a sweet sound, and when her head finally emerged from the wrecked tent, a part of the fabric still laid atop her head, and she shook it off before giving a warm smile to the gryphon.  “Mornin’ grumpybutt!  I was just playing with some of the other foals in town!”  One of the supports from her tent, somehow still standing, chose that moment to fall down, and it knocked her on the head, eliciting a round of laughter from everyone in the camp.  The filly didn’t find it quite as funny, but the laughter was infectious, and soon even she joined in.

As the sound died down, and the filly got to work on her tent, assisted by Hex and Shield, Tyr found himself looking around the camp.  His gaze passed over the changeling, and she gave him a smile.  Tyr nearly returned it, the good feelings from the laughter still lingering.  Her smile irritated the gryphon, for some reason, and he whirled around, reluctant to share positive emotions with the creature.  He could feel her smile shift to a frown, but he ignored it.

“I intend for us to reach the next town by nightfall.  And the Maresissippi River the following day.  If we’re going to be escorting this beast, I want it done swiftly, and with as few distractions as possible.  Perhaps, if we’re lucky, we can reach Canterlot three days hence.”

Is this intentional?  Or an error?

Dat gryph don't take no shit yo.

-2- Thieves, Sorcerers, Dragons, and Balance

-2- Thieves, Sorcerers, Dragons, and Balance

Maple huffed as he walked down the chilly Canterlot street, his hoofsteps oddly muted on the cobble steps.  His eyes darted to every shadow he passed, and on several occasions he whirled about in place, certain that somewhere, somehow, he was being observed by beings with less than benevolent intentions at heart.  He cast his gaze upwards for a moment, and spied the sign of the shop he was bound for.  The little curio shop was less than renowned for its merchandise, but the offerings were fairly diverse, appealing to a large audience.

For a heartbeat, Maple tried to talk himself out of his course of action, but after a second beat of his heart, he steeled himself, and made for the alley adjacent to the store.  He’d been scouting the place for the past few days, now, and he knew the owner’s routine well enough to know that he was asleep, by now, and that it was the best time to go about his less than honest deed.  Once he reached the small side door, he took several deep breaths to steady his shaking hooves before he brought up his small lockpick.

He fumbled with it for several agonizing minutes before a satisfying click seemed to shatter the silence, seemingly loud enough to wake even the dead from their slumber.  The stallion froze in place as he counted off several dozen seconds before he gently turned the knob, opening the door.  He knew that it squeaked when opened to a certain point, so he forced himself to squeeze through before the door could get to that point.  Once inside the shop, the stallion slipped a small bracelet about his hoof, the enchantment within granting him superior night vision, but only for a short while.

Knowing that he only had so much time before the spell ran out, and he was plunged into total darkness, the stallion hurried to find the treasure within the room.  His first minute was futile, as he turned up nothing but worthless trinkets and baubles.  However, just into his second minute of searching he found his prize.  The piece of perfectly refined tin sat just beneath a blown crystal cover.  The metal was cast in the shape of a rearing pegasus, wings spread, and Maple admired it for a moment before he gently lifted the crystal covering, gently easing it off to the side.  With as much care as he could muster, he put it atop a different display, and then he turned back to the piece of metal, his eyes wide.

He lifted the metal, admiring it’s relative lightness, and then he slipped it into the magical bag he’d been given just for this purpose.  As he did so, there was a sound from behind him, and Maple whirled in place to find himself staring down the shop owner.

“I don’t take kindly to thieves, stranger.  How about you just put that back, turn around, leave, and I won’t call the royal guard.”  The owner took a step forward, his large frame rather imposing.  “This here’s Canterlot, and the guard are never more than a couple minutes away, and I’m certain that I can take you for as long as it takes to let them arrive.”

Swallowing nervously, Maple turned to face directly towards the owner, knowing that if it came down to it, he’d be forced to rely upon some of the teachings he’d been given from his trainer.  He said not a word as he relaxed his shoulders, properly entering the martial form.  The owner let out a snort, and charged the short distance, throwing most of his weight into the attack.  Maple was ready, and easily turned the charge into an uncontrolled flip, forcing the owner onto his back with a sickening thud.  Maple looked to the owner wide eyed, and for a moment feared that he had killed the stallion.  When a shuddering breath escaped the prone form, though, Maple let out an immense sigh, and then he bolted from the store, all thoughts of stealth gone from his mind.

/\***/\

Granite cocked his head to the side as he admired the newest addition to his studio.  The carving bore a striking likeness to someone that the stallion knew, but he just couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her before.  “It suits my tastes, Ledger.  I much like the female form, but this carving is truly magnificent.”

“You can’t bloody afford it, Granite.”  The three legged unicorn hobbled up beside the proud earth pony.  “I know that you feel you must be the most grand and opulent of the masters within the city, but you simply do not have the funds to do this.”

Granite frowned for a moment, and then turned to look at his longest standing friend within the city.  “Have all the students paid for the month?”

“Come with me.”  Ledger turned, and headed for the back of the room, and into the corridors beyond.  Granite followed, his mood quickly souring as he thought about his finances.  He was well aware that he was in dire straits for funds, but the stark reminder was less than pleasant.  “Now, we might be able to scrape by, again, but I insist that you either cut back on this spending of yours, raise your prices, or sell off some of the superfluous knick knacks and garbage you insist on keeping.”

Granite scoffed as he took a seat in the chair Ledger offered, opposite the unicorn as he pulled out his various books.  “I can no more afford to sell off my things than you can afford to lose another leg.”  Ledger shot the pony opposite himself an irritated glare, and the master shrank just the tiniest bit.  “My apologies.  That was uncalled for.”

“No, Granite, it’s fine.  It’s a part of who you are.  If you didn’t make comments like that, I’d be worried.”  The unicorn mumbled to himself for several moments before he came to the page he was searching for, quickly showing it to the earth pony.  “Two months.  That’s what you’ve got before the Canterlot Business Bureau will step in, auction off your assets, settle your debt, and send you off with a firm scolding.”

“Well, that doesn’t really sound that bad.”

“Of course, if your possessions aren’t enough to settle your debt, you’ll be forced into labor long enough to settle what you owe.  And by my calculations, you’d be in servitude for about a decade.”

“That is bad.”  Granite looked over the page, and let out a sigh.  “I’d like to go over the payments, again, for the students.”

Ledger allowed the tiniest smile to flicker over his lips.  “Very well.”  He pulled out the relevant pages, and started listing off the names of various students, and their records for payments.  “And, lastly, we have Maple Leaf.  He’s behind by...”  Ledger made a strange sound, and checked several pages.  “He’s behind by two months.”

“Oust him, then.  I’ll not have some poor vagabond taking my time and money.”  Ledger levitated over a quill before dipping it into an inkwell, starting to write out some lines that would make official Granite’s orders.  “Well...”  Ledger paused, and looked up at the master.  “No, give him another month.  He is a promising pupil, after all.”

“I knew it.”  Granite raised an eyebrow, and Ledger chuckled.  “You favor him.  Of all the students you have, it’s him that you like the most.”

“He’s a promising artist of the hoof.  None take so keenly to what I teach than him.”  Granite gave the unicorn a smile.  “He’s got a promising future ahead of him.  I’d wager that he’s like to become a master himself.”

/\***/\

Maple staggered a bit as he finally reached his destination, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  The pony before him glared down at him, but stepped to the side, allowing Maple to pass into the catacombs.  The descent into the mountain was a slow and monotonous trek.  The once pristine passage was now slick with age, and the only illumination offered was an eternal torch every five body lengths, the sickly green flames letting off just enough light to see by.  Maple was growing less certain with each step, but he knew for a certainty that if he could pull this off, and not say something to incriminate himself, he’d be all the closer to learning the full depth of the plot.

Finally, after more torches than Maple could remember, he entered into the large chamber, and was set upon by several other initiates, none of whom were successful in their own efforts.  Maple felt proud for a moment, before a voice cut above the din.

“Maple Leaf.  How good of you to return to the fold.  My, how long it has been since you departed.  I was almost certain that you’d failed, or had been captured.  Or, worse still, slain.”  The figure, cloaked in a robe, cut an easy path through the novices, allowing him to come directly to Maple.  “You success does much for your standing.”  He was silent for a moment, and then he looked over his shoulder, an almost imperceptible nod following.  “Yes, this will do wonderfully.”  A glow came from beneath his hood, and the tin figure rose from Maple’s bag.  It floated there, for a moment, and then it shattered into a million pieces, revealing a seemingly innocuous stone shape.  “Centuries, and centuries.  All for this.”

“My lord?”

“Yes, Maple, you are most satisfactory.  You, and one of my other trusted companions, shall accompany me.”  Without pause, the figure turned in place, and walked from the room, leaving no chance for Maple to gather his wits before he was forced to play catch up.  The twists and turns taken in the halls were enough to thoroughly confuse Maple, and by the time they stopped before a door, the earth pony had no idea which way he would have to go in order to return to where he was, let alone the surface.  “You are confused, are you not, Maple?”  The named pony froze for a moment, praying to whatever deity might listen that his mind was still secure.  “I have not given you anything to call me, and you know not of our purpose.”  The robed figure dropped away his hood, and gave the pony a smile.  “You may call me Nova.  And our purpose is to finally usher in the new era of Equestria.”

Maple didn’t know how to respond, and so he remained silent.  Apparently it was the right call to make, as Nova nodded.  “Excellent.  Our traveling companion will be here in a mome--  Right on time, Cobble.”  The other stranger approached swiftly, his own robe swirling behind him.  “Cobble, this is Maple.  He secured the tin idol.  With it, we have gained the stone.”  Cobble only nodded, and then muttered something so softly under his breath Maple had no hope to hear it.  “Yes, I am aware.  Still, time is, now, of the essence.  We must be quick, lest our purpose become clouded, and the vagaries of magic weave into my plot.”

Maple could only follow as the pair led him deeper into the mountain, and beyond all hope of solitary escape.  Were he to be honest with himself, though, the stallion knew that he had to stay with the pair, and learn as much as he could.  His true purpose couldn’t be lost because he was a coward, and so he swallowed down his fear as he followed the pair, his hopes fading with each echoing step of his hooves.

After what seemed an eternity, there was, finally, a light at the end of the tunnel.  Not a bright light, but more than the eerie green torches.  When they emerged, it seemed as though a trick of some sort had been played upon Maple, as he was all but certain that they were within the walls of Canterlot’s Royal Palace.  He had no time to wonder, though, as the other two never even paused, and Maple was forced to run after them for a moment.  He just caught up to them when a gasp sounded from behind, and he turned to see a maid looking at them with horror on her face.

Before she could let out a scream, a wave of the deepest darkness imaginable swept past Maple, colliding with the mare in a splash of shadows.  There was no sound, after that, as her entire form seemed to fade into blackness, and then out of sight.  The tiniest of whispers reached Maple’s ears as the shadows vanished, but before he could pay attention to the sound, he felt a hoof on his shoulder.  “Those are sounds you shouldn’t hear, Maple.  Not if you value your place in the future.”

“What...  What was that?”

“A nuisance that’s been dealt with.  Now, come, Maple.  There is much to discuss with a certain friend.”  The hoof fell away from his shoulder, and Maple turned to follow, mechanically, as his mind tried to come to terms with what his eyes were telling him.  The connection never truly came, but the stallion knew, in every part of his being, that this pony he was following was evil.  Not even Sombra used the kinds of magics that he had just borne witness to.  There wasn’t even a body.  Not even a shadow of a trace left of that mare.

And Maple had just watched.

A sudden urge to scream, and run, flashed through the stallion’s mind, but by the time he realized the urge, he was in a new chamber, looking to a massive sheet covered object that Nova seemed all too happy to see.

“Fourteen hundred years, my friend.  Our last conversation was so brief, but I kept my word.”  The stone levitated before Nova for a moment, and then he magicked away the sheet, revealing a dragon skull.  “And, now, we may see eye to eye once again.”  The stone floated into a small recession in the skull, and nothing happened for several long moments.  Then, with a shuddering sigh, the air in the room seemed to shift, and the skull grew pits of glowing red in the sockets.  “My dearest friend.  At long last, we may speak again.”

“Sorcerer.  How long has it been, now?”

“Fourteen hundred and thirty seven years.”

“You’re late.”

The robed pony allowed his vestments to drop away, giving Maple enough time to recognize the pony, and then his flesh seemed to age faster than Maple thought possible.  “My grasp on it seems to come and go, friend.  Now, where is the rest of your body, so that I might make you whole once again?”

/\***/\

Nike frowned for a moment, her ears flicking back and forth as though a sound were just out of range.  An irate huff escaped her, and she made for the campfire, prodding at it with a stick several times.  Tyr was looking out to the countryside around them, and for a moment she wanted to go sit beside him, and merely talk.  She squashed the notion aside, though, and returned to her tent, still bothered by a sound she couldn’t quite hear.

/\***/\

“And, so, the books are all balanced, now?”

“Yes, they’re all good.  With what we’ve squeezed, another month will be all we can do.”  Ledger closed his tome, and he leveled his gaze with the stallion opposite him.  “No frivolous expenses, Granite.  I know that you’re normally one for impulse purchases, but for your business’s sake, don’t.”

Granite nodded, and leaned back in his seat for a moment.  “Of course, Ledger.”  He stood, and stretched for a moment, and then made for the door.  “Now, you get home to your beautiful wife, and make sure that you treat her as a mare loves to be treated.”  The unicorn hobbled to the door, and paused for just a moment next to Granite.  “I promise, Ledger.”

“You damn well better.”  The unicorn didn’t look back as he made his way out of the studio that doubled as Granite’s home.  A minute later, and there was the echoing sound of the door closing as Ledger left.  Moments later and there was a bit of rustling as some of the other lodgers likely heard their exchange, and were settling back in for sleep.  Granite, though, was still too wound up from his day, and knew that he needed to let out some of that energy, or he’d never get some sleep.

With quick steps, the stallion made his way to his chambers, and he grabbed his prized cloak, and threw it about his shoulders.  After securing it firmly, he made his way over to his window, and threw it open, allowing the chill air to penetrate into the room, and his body.  Several deep breaths later, and Granite threw himself from the window, his years of training allowing him to exert himself while allowing a blank mind.  His last coherent thought of the day was on the true benefits of thoughtless meditation.

/\***/\

Maple was unable to think straight as he walked down a familiar hallway once again.  His robes, newly acquired, didn’t quite seem to fit, and he felt the need to constantly adjust them.  It was all in his mind, he knew, but it didn’t quite stop the urges that plagued him every few steps.  Since he’d endured his time with the Sorcerer, he’d been growing closer and closer to a breakdown.  He was going to do it today.  Tonight.  It’d been three days since the last time he’d been here, and since then he’d met with the Sorcerer once, and it was during that meeting that he’d been given the robe he currently wore.

The robe was of the finest materials, and, when he’d first gotten it, he’d marveled at how much it must’ve been worth.  That had faded quickly, though, when he learned just how it had been made.  He refused to accept that it was made from...  No.  He refused.  Instead, he adjusted the robe once again, and focused on where he was going, and what he was going to do when he got there.  As he kept his pace in the hall, he heard the rhythmic chanting that had been going nonstop for the past day.  The stallion knew better than to head to the central chamber, so he made quick steps to take him to the Sorcerer’s private chamber.

After giving Maple his robe, he’d departed for parts unknown, searching for parts of the drake he made to rebuild, supposedly.  All that mattered was that he was gone, and that Maple could go to his study, and find what he needed.  When, at last, he reached the door, he pushed it open with trembling hooves, wondering if there would be any traps present to stop him from searching, or even entering the room.  When the door was fully open, and the stallion still drew breath, he figured that, perhaps, the sorcerer relied solely upon the fervent devotion of his followers to keep them at bay.  And, for the most part, it worked.  Maple’s fear was already nearly enough to keep him out.

Grimacing, the stallion walked into the room, gasping when he saw that the walls were covered in more tomes than he’d seen in some libraries.  He had no idea where to start, until he spotted a section that was organized differently.  And, prominently displayed, was a tome that the stallion knew all too well, having been told about at length.  The Arcanum Infinium was an infamous tome, covering many topics and periods that the Royalty wished not to be so widely spread.  While of note, it was not quite the find he’d hoped for.  Still, he took the leather bound book, and slipped it into his bag.

After that, though, the pony spent several minutes searching the room, desperate for a prize, before he finally found something better than a signed confession.  It was a large journal, filled with countless pages of information, penned by the Sorcerer’s own hoof.  Written on the cover, in elegant and flowing script, was a series of messages, in a language the stallion didn’t know, yet at the bottom was a phrase that the stallion had heard uttered a few times around the catacombs.  Taking it, and gently sticking it in his saddle bag, Maple felt a thrill of success pass through his body.

“Maple?  What in Equs are you doing?”  Maple looked up to see Pot staring at him, his eyes wide with horror.  “Maple?”

“Go away, Pot!  I was sent here by Swarm!”

“No!  No, you’re lying!”  Maple couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  “You’re a spy.  And I’m going to stop you.”

Maple leapt over the desk, his nerves vanishing, suddenly, as he realized that he knew how to deal with this situation.  Settling into the stance he’d grown so comfortable in, he lunged at the turning stallion, knocking him down, and using the momentum to put himself between the prone stallion and the door.  “If you want to report me, Pot, you’re going to have to go through me.  And we both know I’m the better fighter.”

“I could call for aid.”

“But you won’t.  Because if you do, I’ll have no motivation to spare you.”  Pot imitated a fish for a moment, and then he let out a huff.  “Smart pony.”

“Guards!  Guards, ther--”  His voice was cut off as Maple delivered a harsh jab to his throat.  A faint gurgle escaped Pot, and then he let out a cough, nothing but blood bubbling out of his mouth.

“I fucking warned you, Pot!”  Maple wasted not another moment as he sprinted from the room, making for the surface.  He had only been going for a minute before he heard shouting voices coming from behind him.  Putting all his energy into it, the stallion kept up his sprint until, finally, he burst back onto the streets of Canterlot.