A Master of Deceit

A soft moan of discomfort escaped Remiel's lips as his stiff limbs began to move. Slowly his eyelids parted to reveal a dark and blurry world. He let out an exasperated breath as an overpowering heat hit his body. Wh-Where am I? he thought to himself, his mind as hazy as his vision. He attempted to move his left arm, and through some minor pain and stiff joints the limb heeded his commands. He brought the band to his face and proceeded to rub the tiredness from his eyes, as well as to try and ease his pounding skull.

When he lowered his hand he attempted once more to examine his surroundings. What he saw was what appeared to be a white sheet stretched over metal loops above him, a thick brown blanket covering his body and piles of boxes on either side of him. He forced his body into a sitting position, ignoring the protests of more stiff muscles, and as he did the blanket fell to reveal his bare chest, and a scar that ran almost perfectly straight from his collarbone down to his stomach.

Why am I shirtless? He shook his head. No. Where am I? What happened? Suddenly the haze in his mind vanished and everything came rushing back to him. Matthew becoming possessed by the relic and forcing it into his hands, the pain, and then the merciful darkness. Then there was that voice, the voice that spoke nonsense into his ears. Callous Reaper? What did it mean by that? Remiel did not pretend to be a saint, but he didn't simply go around killing anyone who displeased him. No, he only ordered the deaths of those whose sins demanded such.

He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He was right. The voice, if it had even truly been there, spoke nonsense. In all likelihood it was an attempt by the relic to undermine his will and slowly drive him insane as it had undoubtedly done to others. The thought suddenly caused Remiel's heart to stop. The relic! Where was it? Remiel began frantically looking all around himself. His search caused him to freeze as he got a good look at his left arm.

Lines as black as the darkest night covered his arm like dozens of tentacles, weaving in and out of one another in a strange but beautiful design the full length of his arm and even his hand before they all converged in a single point on his left palm. He looked at the beautiful monstrosity in shock. Where had it come from? The only thing he could think of was the relic was somehow responsible for it. Carefully examining the markings he noticed they did create similar designs to those he saw on the orb so it was indeed possible. However, he had never heard of a relic binding itself to a person. Just what kind of abomination had he unleashed on the world?

A sound coming from nearby woke Remiel from his thoughts. He was silent as he listened, and the sounds soon began to resemble humming. Someone was out there! Remiel silently cursed his scholarly mind for distracting him from more pressing matters, such as where he was. Remiel began to rise from where he lay, when suddenly light came pouring into the small, cramped space. Remiel's eyes flinched from the sudden brightness and heard the humming stop and was replaced by a gasp.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Remiel asked, his voice dry and cracked.

"I-It can talk," a shocked, female voice gasped. Remiel didn't like that one bit.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said while waiting for his eyes to adjust, "but it is rather rude to refer to another as an 'it'." As he finished speaking his eyes finally adjusted and looked towards his feet, where the sound of the voice came from and saw the person who spoke. Or rather he thought that it was a person. His mind went blank as it tried and failed to comprehend just exactly what it was he was looking at. The being had hair as did a human, a light silvery color, two eyes, a gorgeous golden color, and a nose as a human did, and he was assuming that it was what spoke so it could speak as a human did. Those, however, were where the similarities ended.

To begin with, the female, at least the voice sounded female, didn't have normal human ears. In fact they closely resembled that of an equine. And then she was covered in fur, not skin, but a light turquoise coat of fur. A few moments went by when neither of them said a word, until Remiel broke the silence.

"I must still be asleep," he said softly to himself.

"No, you're awake," the woman said, still stunned. Remiel looked back at her with a blank stare.

"Forgive me if I do not take your word for it," Remiel replied. "I shall have to test that for myself."

"And how will you do that?"

"Like so." To his immediate left looked to be a wooden crate, so taking his head in his right hand he used all of his strength to bash his own head against it. He regretted his actions instantly. His head exploded with pain as he raised his hand to the affected area and felt a warm liquid swiftly pouring from what felt like a cut. He was mortified. How could he feel pain in a dream? It wasn't possible. Suddenly Remiel felt the surface he lay on shift slightly and suddenly the strange woman was hovering over him. Before he could react he felt the woman seize his head and press something soft against his wound.

"Are you crazy?" she demanded. "You could have seriously hurt yourself!" Remiel was at a loss for what to do so he simply sat still as the woman treated his injury. After a few moments of sitting still, and the woman berating him for his foolishness, the woman finally crawled back away from him, some manner or cloth wrapped around his head. "There. Now the next time you do that you're going to take care of it yourself, got it?"

"Yes," Remiel answered calmly, finally managing to get his confusion and worry under control enough to slip his mask on. "My apologies for my brash actions. I wasn't thinking clearly." Indeed. If he had he would have remembered the splitting headache he had when he awoke or simply pinched himself instead of trying to crack his skull open. The woman gave him a satisfied smile.

"As long as we understand each other I'll forgive you this once."

"My thanks, Miss," he started but couldn't finish since he didn't know her name.

"My name is Healing Touch," she said happily from where she sat near Remiel's feet.

"A beautiful and very fitting name," Remiel said with a slight smile. What manner of name is that? "My name is Remiel Blaz, but I would be most thankful if you called me Rem." She gave him a confused look.

"That's a pretty strange name." My, she certainly doesn't beat around the bush.

"Yes, even for my people it is a rather odd and old fashion name I must admit."

"So...what are you exactly?"

"I am a human being, my dear lady," he responded with a cheery tone. "I'm afraid I must ask you the same question though."

"Me? I'm a pony." Remiel kept his cheery face in place but inside he was incredulous. A pony? A small horse that walked on four legs and had absolutely no capability for human speech? "You've never seen a pony before?" Remiel shook his head.

"I have seen ponies before, but they were a different manner of being than you."

"What?" Healing Touch asked, confused. "How could they be ponies but be different from me?"

"To begin with they were not nearly as colorful as you and instead of walking on two legs and feet they walked on four legs and hooves. Also they possessed no capacity for speech." He wasn't going to mention the pony he had come into contact with as a child was a foul tempered beast.

"That sounds...boring," she answered. It was a better reaction than Remiel had planned on,but he couldn't shake the feeling that this woman, or would it be mare?, thought he was insane.

"Forgive the rather brutish description. I must sound a touch insane to you." The mare laughed softly at him.

"Just a little, and hitting your head against a crate didn't help." Remiel forced a small chuckle in agreement, but he felt as though his actions were something she was never going to let him live down. "But I've never heard of a human before. Where are you from?"

"My estate is located in the countryside of the state of Indiana in the great nation of the United States of America."

"Never heard of it."

"A shame. If you had you may have been able to give me directions on how to return home." Remiel would have been surprised if she had heard of it, but her not knowing confirmed a dark thought he had pushed to the back of his mind: he was no longer on earth. "You see, I don't a sliver of an idea of where I am or how I got here." Though he hated it, it would seem his best bet would be to play the ignorant and inept lost traveler in hopes of gaining this mare's assistance.

"Magic," she said plainly, causing Remiel's heart to stop for a moment. How did she know about magic?

"Magic?" Healing Touch nodded her head.

"You just suddenly appeared in a ball of light in the middle of our camp so I'd guess magic was involved." Surprisingly she didn't seem all that disturbed by it.

"I-I see," Remiel stuttered.

"Is something wrong?" Remiel shook his head.

"Magic...Magic is just a superstition. There must be some other explanation for what happened." Healing Touch looked at him with a concerned face. "Is something wrong, Miss Touch?"

"I'm wondering if you hit your head harder than I thought," she said, sounding slightly worried.

"May I ask why?"

"You think magic isn't real, but that's just silly."  Remiel didn't have to fake his confusion.

"How so?"

"Well if it wasn't for magic, then unicorns would just be ponies with horns, pegasi wouldn't be able to live on the clouds or control the weather, and how would the princesses raise and lower the sun and moon?" Remiel's confusion only grew with each and every item she listed off, but when she mentioned beings that could raise and lower the sun and moon it took everything he had to not let his skepticism leak onto his face.

Surely that must be some type of religious superstition used by their leaders to justify their rule, Remiel thought to himself. He didn't like the method, but it was certainly effective. People were less likely to revolt if they needed their leaders to make the sun rise. "That. That sounds more insane than my description of ponies." The mare pursed her lips at his statement. "Unicorns? Pegasus? They are legends, not real creatures. Living in clouds and controlling the weather along with the sun and moon? Those simply are not possible."

He had to play this carefully. He had to plant the seeds in her mind that he had no clue what magic was and therefore no idea of his capabilities. Though his disbelief of the things she was describing came easily to him. If he kept on this path she may come to the conclusion herself that he was not of this world. If so and in his clueless and harmless state she may be more forthcoming with information. Also, it may be in his best interest to let these ponies underestimate him and think him incompetent.

"Now I'm positive you hit your head harder than I thought. Especially since my husband and son are unicorns you don't seem to think are real." Remiel's eyes went wide. There were more of them? Of course there were more, how else would she exist if her parents were not that way as well, and earlier she did say that he had appeared in 'their' camp.

"Forgive me, I meant no offense. Its just that magic is nothing more than a myth where I am from, as are unicorns and the legendary Pegasus."

"Pegasi." Remiel gave her a confused look. "The plural form of pegasus is pegasi."

"There is more than one?" Healing Touch let out an exasperated sigh. Perhaps he didn't need to feign clueless, he seemed to be doing fine without trying.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I am beginning to have my doubts." That earned a small laugh from the mare.

"Maybe getting some more rest will help you." Remiel gave her a small smile.

"Your concern and kindness are greatly appreciated, Mrs. Touch, but I feel as though I have leached off your generosity for long enough. I shall begin to pull my own weight and then some in hopes to pay back this debt."

"I don't think so," she said firmly. "With you talking crazy and hitting your head you won't be doing any heavy lifting for some some time." Remiel nodded his head to her.

"As you wish, but I would very much so like a bit of fresh air. My arms and legs are stiff enough as it is and I would like to stretch them. I swear I shall not do any heavy lifting until you clear me to do so." Healing Touch seemed to think it over for a few moments before finally nodding her head.

"Alright, but let me go and get some of my husband's spare clothes. Can't have you going around camp naked." Remiel's eyes shot wide as he lifted the blanket slightly to see how he was indeed covered by nothing but the blanket.

"That would be most appreciated, Mrs. Touch," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed but not allowing his cheeks to color. He was used to doctors examining him, but he wasn't expecting to be going commando at this particular moment. Why was he naked anyway? "May I ask where my clothes are?"

"Yes you may," she answered. "I took them this morning to wash them."

"I see. Thank you, but I feel guilty." Healing Touch gave him a confused look. "You have been nothing but kind to me, a stranger you have never met before, and I have little to offer in way of repayment." Healing Touch laughed at him.

"Don't worry, it's in my nature to help somepony in need. And once you're healed up you'll repay us by helping out around camp." Remiel gave her a genuine heartfelt smile.

"It is a deal, my lady, and I shall not forget this act of kindness for as long as I shall live." However short that may be. Healing Touch smiled warmly back at him.

"No need to get all sentimental about it. Now, you stay here and I'll be right back with those clothes." Remiel nodded to her and smiled as she departed to get the clothes. The second the canvas flap closed behind her his mind was a flurry of thought and planning.

Magic. They possess magic here. It was a seemingly miraculous discovery. Perhaps simply being here would be enough to extend his life, restoring his natural magical reserves. Even though his position was more harrowing than he had originally believed, perhaps there was a way to return home. The thought caused his heart to drop. Home. Dear powers that be, how long have I been away? After his disappearance they would have undoubtedly spirited Josh Longman away to the estate and declared him the new Grey King, but how did the Council react? Had they invaded in an attempt to take his land, or were they biding their time until the next summit? If they were doing the latter, than Remiel had nothing to fear. With luck he would have returned by then, and if not the Council's fate was sealed anyway.

Knowing that worrying about something he could no longer influence was a waste of his time, Remiel began to ponder more on his current situation. Healing Touch, and by association those who traveled with her, seemed to be a very kind and caring group so it was unlikely they would abandon him to make his own way. He was not accustomed to living off the charity of others, and he did not like it but the situation required it. He would find a way to repay their kindness twofold, but for the meantime he would have to learn what he could from them and see if they would have any leads on where to begin his search for a way to return home.

Suddenly the flap leading to Remiel's resting place opened, but instead of seeing Healing Touch as he had thought he would he saw a young pony with a light crimson coat, a dark blue mane, and golden eyes. This one even had a horn on his head. Remiel and the young pony simply stared at one another for a moment.

By the powers that be, she was telling the truth. This child is a unicorn!

"H-Hello," the young pony, a boy from the sound of his voice, said shyly. Remiel quickly smothered his shock and gave the boy, or colt he supposed, a warm smile.

"Greetings, my name is Remiel," he said as kindly as he could. The young colt seemed to jump when he spoke, but Remiel acted as non-threatening as he could. "May I have the pleasure of your name?"

"Huh?" the colt asked. Remiel wanted to sigh but instead chuckled.

"What's your name?"

"Oh! I'm Tinker!" the colt replied enthusiastically. Tinker? Where did these ponies come up with these names? Despite his exasperation at their choices in names he wondered if his name was as oddly prophetic as Healing Touch's. "You talk weird." Remiel gave a hearty laugh at that.

"Yes, it must seem strange to one as young as yourself. My apologies, but this is how I was raised to speak."

"Oh," Tinker responded. "You talk like the nobles in Baltimare." Baltimare? Was that some kind of pun?

"Do I now? Does that mean I look noble as well?" Remiel did his best to strike a heroic pose, though it was difficult to do while sitting down with no shirt on.

"No, you look funny," Tinker replied with a small laugh. Remiel quickly feigned hurt at the colt's words.

"Oh the indignity of it all! I shall never be able to show my face again!" He brought up his right forearm to cover his face in a melodramatic way. Tinker laughed at his show and Remiel couldn't help but smirk. He had always loved children, so full of life and potential. They were one of the few things that could bring a smile, a real smile, to his face.

"You're funny." Remiel lowered his arm to show the colt his smirk. "Oh! Mom wanted me to bring you these." He lifted his arms and Remiel saw he held a pile of clothes.

"My thanks, Tinker," Remiel said as he leaned forward and accepted the articles. "Now I must beg you for a moment of privacy while I clothe myself."

"Huh?"

"I need to get dressed," Remiel told him with a smirk.

"Oh!" Tinker exclaimed. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Remiel!"

"Likewise, my young friend. And, please, call me Rem!"

"Ok, Mr. Rem!" Remiel chuckled softly at the young colt before a feeling of sadness washed over him. He adored children, but they also brought out a sadness rooted deep within his heart. What is the matter with me? I made my decision and I will not change my mind. He quickly suppressed the feeling and attempted to rise to his feet, but hit it head on one of the metal rings that supported the cloth ceiling. Well, this should be most interesting.

It took him a few moments to get dressed while hunched over, but when he finally did he was wearing a red shirt and tan trousers that were fairly loose on him and required him to hold them up with one hand. It wasn't the snug, tailor made outfits he was accustomed to, but they were comfortable, and that was more than he could say for most of his own. Now freshly clad in clothes, Remiel made his way to the exit and pulled the flaps open to reveal a very bright and largely open world. He appeared to be a small camp alongside a dirt road that consisted of a medium sized tent and a humble sized wagon that he had been resting in.

He dropped down from the wagon, his feet landing on some particularly sharp rocks, and looked around for any sign of Healing Touch or Tinker. He found them standing near a tall and sturdy looking man, no he's a stallion, with a tan coat and a dusty blonde mane and tail, and he didn't look particularly happy. Judging from his facial expression and the hushed, but angry tones of their voices he could only assume they were arguing. He didn't have to be a master at reading others to know what their argument was about, he just had to think of how best to approach the situation. His time was cut short when the stallion in question looked over and saw him standing there. A strange silence fell over the couple as they were now both looking at him. Deciding he should make the first move, Remiel approached them with a bright smile

"You must be Healing Touch's husband," Remiel said with a bright and cheery tone, holding out his right hand to shake the stallion's hand. "My name is Remiel Blaz and it is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of the stallion who stole this fine mare's heart and raised such a wonderful child." The stallion's blue eyes went wide with shock as he nervously reached out to shake Remiel's hand.

"Heavy Axe," the stallion replied.

"Ah, a strong name for a stallion with a strong grip." Indeed, his handshake was almost as painful as Juan's. "I must thank you."

"F-For what?" Heavy Axe, seriously where did they come up worth these names, asked. It seemed Remiel coming on strong had put him off balance, exactly what he had hoped for.

"Firstly for taking me in when by all means you could have left me, and secondly for loaning me these comfortable clothes to wear."

"D-Don't mention it," he replied.

"Truly your family has been a godsend, and I shall endeavor to repay your kindness in any way I can."

"Alight," Heavy Axe replied. "It's nice to meet you too, I guess."The stallion looked from Remiel to his wife and shook his head. "I'm going to go get some firewood for camp tonight."

"I shall accompany you," Remiel told him.

"No you shall not," Healing Touch said sternly. "I told you: No heavy lifting." Remiel bowed his head to her.

"And heavy lifting I shall not do, but I don't  believe that carrying an armful of twigs and branches would count as heavy lifting, no?"

"Don't worry H.T., I'll make sure the colt doesn't get himself hurt," the imposing unicorn said. Heavy Axe turned to Remiel then looked down at his feet. "Follow me, I got some spare boots you can use, those fancy shoes won't do much to protect your hooves." Remiel smiled warmly at him. So they still called their feet hooves than?

"I would be most grateful, Sir Axe," Remiel said kindly.

"'Sir'?" he asked.

"Forgive me if I am wrong, but it seems to me as though you have spent some time in the military."

"Aye, spent a decade or so in the princesses' guard."

"An honorable occupation, you have my respect." Heavy Axe seemed pleased with that and it was the least he could do after pouring him off by coming on so strong earlier.

"Alright, follow me. And none of that 'sir' nonsense, I ain't in the guard anymore."

"One branch of the military where I am from has a saying: 'Once a marine, always a marine.' They are proud, strong warriors that live for their fellow comrades."

"Sounds like the guard," Heavy Axe said as he smirked and opened a trunk, pulling out a large pair of worn boots. "See how those fit." Remiel took the boots and stared at them with one thought.

How in the seven levels of Hell am I supposed to keep these things from falling off? The boots in question were massive, but Remiel set them down and slid his right for into one. There was much space left over that his foot just couldn't occupy, but he laced up the strings and tied it as tightly as he could. Afterwards he picked his foot up, and the boot slid down his leg a couple inches. I can foresee complications in my near future. Seeing there was naught he could do about it Remiel put on the second boot and was met with the same result. Walking was going to be incredibly awkward. Remiel looked over to Heavy Axe and saw him smirking. Remiel sighed in acceptance and turned to the large pony.

"Take this too," the unicorn said as he tossed Remiel a belt. "You're gonna have enough problems walking as it is." Remiel thanked him and wrapped the belt around himself.

"Where shall we begin our search?" Remiel asked, pretending to ignore Heavy Axe's amusement at his predicament.

"This way." Heavy Axe turned and headed towards a small forested area not too far from the camp, and Remiel half walked, half waddled after him. Behind him he could faintly hear Healing Touch and Tinker snickering at him. He brushed it off and let his mind wander. After all, how hard could gathering a few branches and twigs be?

.