Chapter 1: The Tired Alchemist
Chapter 1: The Tired Alchemist
"They say that island is cursed" he muttered to himself. About a mile from where he was sitting in his small rowboat, a young stallion could see the outline of a dark body of land. He was pondering the island curiously when suddenly there was an aggressive change in current. With a sudden jolt he felt his little boat being pulled towards the island. The speed at which he was moving seemed unreal. Within what felt like only a few seconds he was thrust onto the island. He landed on the beach with a thud as he was ejected from his little boat. His landing was anything but graceful. He picked himself up and looked around. The sand on the beach had a greenish hue. It felt somewhat mushy because of the horrendous amount of algae that miraculously managed to grow on the salty sand; it stuck to his hooves like wet tacky flour. The slimy and gritty sensation from the sand made him cringe. There was a foul smell in the air. It could have been the sand, or the sickly looking trees, or the black murky water flowing from a small stream pouring into the ocean. Regardless, whatever it was, it smelled of death.
The lad felt drawn to strange jungle that lay before him. Its withered trees seemed to call out to him - beckoning him to come and see what lay awaiting behind the curtain of branches and moss. He stepped into the jungle tip-toeing ever so carefully, the large trees blotting out the sun. The very air had a green hue filled with mold and stench. Even the mist was a distasteful color of green. The stream of black water traversed the forest like the spine of a dragon with severe arthritis. But the sick trees and black water didn't stop him. He still kept walking, deeper and deeper into the darkness, almost being led through it by some strange deep magic. He carried forward, undaunted by the smell of the toxic air. This placed seemed familiar... but he'd never been here before. He was sure of it. But that didn't change the fact that he felt like he knew where he was going. So he kept going.
It wasn't long before he heard screaming in the distance. Almost instinctively, he bolted towards the cries of agony. With every step it grew louder and louder; and the screams grew greater in number. He ran as fast as his legs could take him. By now the screaming was echoing through the jungle with penetrating volume. Ahead he saw a row of trees tightly packed together, making some kind of wall. He made a mad dash for the trees with everything he had. He jumped as high as he could through an opening between two of them. But his hips got caught in between the two trunks. He pressed his forelegs down as hard as he could, popping out of the slimy obstacle, tumbling down the large trunks and hitting the ground. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and it left a nasty ringing in his ears.
When got up off the ground, he found himself in a wide open area surrounded by these slimy trees which made a large circle - almost like a cage. The black stream ran right through the center of it, winding back and forth like a snake. The circular pattern of the trees made an opening; the sky was actually visible here. A dull shade of yellow illuminated the clearing, with a faint crescent moon far off in the sky. It seemed so distant – so separated. For a brief moment there was silence. But the silence did not last and his eyes shifted back towards the ground. When he regained his focus on his surroundings, the stallion discovered the cause of all the noise. His very heart stopped dead in its tracks. Every artery in his body constricted like a python around the body of a helpless child. The treachery that lay before him was like nothing he'd ever dreamed possible. There before him, appeared to be hundreds of emaciated ponies biting at one another, killing each other, tearing into the flesh of their own kind. The smell of death was overwhelming! Not a living soul seemed to notice him as he stood there in awe. The killing continued, with or without him.
But this wretched display of hatred and contempt was not the worst of it. He turned around, seeing a sickly little colt sitting beneath a weeping willow all by himself. He was the most sickly of them all, his mane half-missing and his pale blue fur shedding away. This frightened stallion's jaw dropped as this little colt began eating his own foreleg. The emaciated youngster began tearing into his own flesh, eyes staring blankly into the distance - emotionless. It was not long before only a cracked and withered bone was left where his foreleg used to be; and he was still gnawing away at it steadily. His teeth began to fall out one by one as he was biting into his brittle bone. The flesh around his frail rib cage peeled off, exposing his nearly collapsed lungs and weakly beating heart. He still kept gnawing ferociously with nothing left but his jaw. The very flesh on his face peeled away and his eyes poured out of his skull like molten iron into a stone cast. They fell onto the ground and split open, leaving behind a trail white fluid. But he continued still, though as if nothing had happened. All of a sudden, the terrified onlooker noticed something long and thin working its way through his rib cage. A large black serpent slithered up through his throat. The little colt's head tilted backwards as the snake crawled through his throat and out of his mouth, flicking its tongue and bobbing its head in such a way that it seemed to be enjoying itself. It stared right at the terrified stallion, flicking its tongue ever so joyfully - almost smiling. After giving its friendly greeting, it slithered away. No sooner when the serpent left, another sickly pony jumped down from the weeping willow and tore into the back of the rotten colt's neck, tearing him to shreds. Others immediately joined in, leaving nothing left. In an instant the light faded to darkness, and all was silent.
In an instant his eyes opened, and the terror was no more. "These dreams keep getting worse and worse" he muttered mournfully. "I need to use more Valerian and less Jasmine next time. Otherwise I'll be having visions of sugar plums dancing to the sound of show-tunes."
The young stallion rolled out of bed and hobbled to his mirror. His dull brown fur and dark brown mane looked thoroughly ruffled. his reflection did not greet him kindly, hazel eyes staring blankly. He stepped over to his bench and picked up his mortar. He blew off the residue, grabbed some dried Valerian, and ground it up with his pestle, the dust making him sneeze.
"And to think alchemy would solve my problems.... was it Jasmine or Gardenia that I needed to remove from the menu?"
Author's Note
Fun fact: Chapter One is based heavily on one of my many night-terrors. Enjoy!
