Everypony remembers the vanish. Ever since that day, Equestria was never the same. The Everfree began to grow in size, engulfing the outskirts of the nearby hamlet of ponyville. Monster attacks became more and more frequent across the nation, from a hydra in Manehattan to packs of manticores in Las Pegasus.
But that was not the worst part.
The worst of it all was what occurred on the vanish. Six ponies, heroes to all the land, mysteriously disappeared one day. Nopony knew where they went, and their prayers of their return were unanswered.
But Celestia had a sneaking suspicion of their whereabouts, and the very idea terrified her.
Long ago, Celestia and Luna battled an ancient daemon. One with the power to corrupt the souls of those it touched. It created ruin throughout the land, turning ponies into bloodthirsty monsters and made the wildlife hostile beyond belief. It was truly a dark time.
Using the Elements of Harmony, the two sisters sealed away this beast in its very castle and claimed it as their own. This became known as the Castle of the Two Sisters.
The very last known location of her most precious heroes.
She tried everything in her power to save them. The royal guards marched down the streets of Ponyville on their expedition to the Everfree. Thier rescue attempt failed, never to be heard from again. The Wonderbolts searched high and low above the canopy of the forest, but even they couldn’t pierce the darkness enveloping it.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. The use of the dark arts.
Countless chickens and other livestock had been bled for the summoning circle, a massive series of runes on the floor of Celestia’s throne room. Her servants replicated the spell’s instructions to the T, and when it was time for the summoning to begin, Celestia herself cast the spell.
The spell was less of a summoning ritual, and more of a beacon. A cry for help across the multiverse, a prayer that some heroic figures would heed her call.
And they did.
“Thou shall be crush'd 'ere the light of judgement!” an armored man shouted, gripping a broadsword in one hand and holding up a scroll in the other. The scroll unraveled itself to reveal all kinds of holy sigils, glowing with righteous power.
Two robed, skeletal figures recoiled from the light, their bones burning from the holy magic. Inhuman screeches escaped their mouths as one of them turned to nothing more than dust, drifting down the hallway. The other robed figure roared as the light faded, splashing a strange, black liquid from its goblet on an overcoat-wearing man.
“AGH!” he spat as his skin developed small, dark boils where the liquid landed. “Reynauld!” he called to the armored man. “Smite the bastard for me, will ya?”
“That will not be needed, Caspar,” A female voice hissed, throwing a small ceramic ball at two giant blobs of slime and phlegm. The capsule burst into a sickly green smog, bits of the brown ceramic embedding into the gel. “The blight will take care of the gelatinus beasts. Leave the courtier to Pointel.” The torch revealed the woman in question, wearing black robes and a beaked, white mask.
On cue, a woman wearing a pointed hat tossed a dagger through the air, smashing into the skull of the skeletal advisor. The robed skeleton fell to the ground in a heap, leaving only the two slimes at the mercy of Reynauld.
“F’r glory and the Lord!” the crusader yelled, swinging his sword down and cutting through the gel like a flaming chainsaw would a snowman. As the first bundle of ectoplasm dropped, the second fired forth its gel at the crusader…
Only for the plague doctor to jump in front of him and make a small incision in the ectoplasmic beast, downing it instantly. Decimated. “Aye, Galilee!” the crusader laughed under his facemask as he went to collect the gold hidden inside of the ectoplasm. “Thy assistance is appreciat’d.”
Caspar grunted as one of his boils popped, sending blood splattering through the air. “This is hopeless…” He mumbled to himself, wiping his arm with his sleeve. “Shall I re-light the torch?”
“Nay,” Reynauld replied, squinting his eyes. “I can see a faint light just down the hall. Onwards, mine noble companions!”
The party pushed forward, unbroken by the encounter. It didn’t take long to reach the end of the hall, where instead of a door, a blinding light awaited the adventurers. “What is this…?” Pointel asked in shock, squinting her eyes from the bright light.
“...The Lord,” Reynauld walked forward, his arms outstretched. “This is… The light of the Lord, he beckons us forward!”
Before anyone could object, Reynauld stepped into the light, vanishing from view. “Reynauld, you madman!” Caspar cursed. “After him ladies, we can’t do it alone!”
The three ventured forth into the light, awaiting the unknown that lay in wait on the other side.
Falling was the first sensation Reynauld felt in the darkness of the void. He was falling down in pitch black, a darkness so overwhelming that he wasn’t certain if he hadn’t lost his eyesight entirely. He fell and fell, until finally, it stopped.
Vision returned to him as he looked up to see a colorful room, with a majestic white horse with wings and a horn sitting on a throne a good few feet away from him.
She gave a tired smile as he rose to his feet, soon flanked by his fellow adventurers. It worked. She could barely believe it, but the summoning ritual worked! “Greetings, stalwart heroes,” she spoke, a tear of joy escaping her eyelids. “You have come at a most dark time.”
“And who might you be?” Pointel crossed her arms, her pickaxe clattering to the ground besides her.
“Forgive me for my manners, or lack thereof,” the horse said. “My name is Princess Celestia. I am the ruler of this realm.” Upon hearing the word ‘princess’, Reynauld dropped to one knee, lowering his head.
“‘tis an honor to meet thou, thy majesty.” Caspar rolled his eyes at Reynauld, his hand hovering over his crude flintlock pistol.
“Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your brains out like every other monster I’ve met,” Caspar hissed, causing Celestia to recoil in shock.
“I am no monster, I can assure you that. I’m simply a ruler worried for her subjects.” Celestia regained her composure. “As I mentioned, you have come at a very dark time. Our heroes are missing, and ponies are losing faith.”
“Ponies?” Galilee mumbled to herself. “I might have to experime—” The words died in her throat as she noticed the glare of Caspar, seemingly staring into her soul.
“I have summoned you to find my little ponies, and save our world from darkness. Please… You’re our last hope.”
“And?” Caspar asked. “What’s in it for us?”
Celestia smiled. “Riches and glory beyond your imagination.”
The highwayman grinned. “Hear that? Looks like this’ll be better than exploring some dusty old ruins after all.”
An old rickety wagon was pulled down Canterlot’s mountain along a road revealing increasing disuse the further it ran drawn by two snow-white royal guards. The ponies who saw this paid it little mind such a thing was hardly uncommon these days and they had far more important things to worry about. Those few who were struck by a moment of whimsy might have guessed the carriage to be carrying an important dignitary or some newly appointed general instead of the four humans sitting in silence.
Celestia had promised the adventurers any tools or other supplies they might need before setting them off down the mountain, towards the small desolate town of Ponyville. As the carriage bumped and rattled, Pointel finally spoke up. “Do you think we’ll ever be going home?”
The carriage remained silent as the robber slowly looked into the dour and worried faces of her companions. That’s the only answer Pointel needed.
She sighed. This was going to be a long ride.
The carriage traveled through an increasingly overgrown roadway as it left the mountains and hills surrounding the capital and descended into the darkened valley no overcome by trees. Shapes danced through the woods as the tired guards increased their pace and the tension in the carriage steadily climbed. Things twisted or imagined danced by between the tall trunks as the adventures were pulled ever deeper into the darkness beneath the forest’s canopy. Finally the guards pulled up at the edge of a small village, next to a cottage overrun by nature's wrath.
“This is your stop,” One of the guardsponies spoke. “The castle should be just down the path,” he continued, gesturing to a nearby dirt road. “I wish you luck, brave souls.”
"We're going to need it," Galilee murmured adjusting her mask.
With a flurry of stomping hooves, the two guards fled back the way they had come without a word, leaving the four adventures surrounded by the tangible darkness of the moonless night. Quickly lighting a torch, Pointel waved to her comrades. “Shall we enter the cottage? It’s possible we can find supplies within.”
“Nay,” Reynauld responded, drawing his polished broadsword. “We have supplies enough already.”
“One can never have enough supplies,” Caspar replied, unsheathing his dirk and giving it a quick twirl. “I’d hate to die of food shortages, and when I do, it’ll be all your fault.” The party paused to stare at him, their gazes lingering until the rough man in a trench coat begin to fidget. “What? It was a joke!”
With a shake of his head, Reynauld beckoned the group forwards into the darkened woodlands that surrounded them. "Come, companions! Glory awaits!"
Through the endless maze of trees and mud they trecked along the memories of roads and trails long forgotten among the belligerent trees and scrubs. They slowed only for a bite of bread or to light new torches, never able to shake the feeling they were being watched, pursued, hunted, and mocked by things unseen in the silent forest. The length of time they spent following crisscrossing false paths and carrying hundreds of pounds of armor, supplies, and weaponry quickly became as lost as they were. Unable to continue without fear of collapse the four assembled a small crude camp on a spot they swore they had passed through before.
“Do you think she’ll keep her promise?” Caspar spoke, roasting what he believed to be a rabbit carcass over the fire. Seeing only questioning looks from his companions, he clarified “The overgrown horse that calls herself a Princess, I mean.”
“What? Are you worried about not getting your money?” Galilee chuckled, her mask resting beside her as she blew on a steaming piece of meat skewered by her knife. “She seemed desperate. I’m willing to bet she’ll cough up the gold.”
“She still has no reason to,” Caspar countered. “She can just banish us back to our own blighted little corner of existence without paying us a dime.” A look was shared among the greedier of the group, silently praying Caspar was wrong.
Reynauld looked over the group, preparing to chastise the burglar and looter for their greed, when he spotted something new in the foliage. Two green, glowing eyes watched them from behind a nearby tree and he became aware of a foul alien order beneath the scents of cooking meat. As he heard the sounds of movement through the previously silent woods around them he leapt to his feet sword in hand with a roar, “Ambush!”
Caspar and Pointel instantly sprung to their feet seeking shelter behind the armored knight, just in time to see a giant canine composed of a twisted assortment of wood burst from its hiding place, snarling in fury that it had been discovered. Galilee tried to rise, only to trip over her seat as she found herself stuck only inches from the beast’s splinter filled maw. Her breath caught and her eyes narrowed to pin pricks. So, this is how I die?
She was roused from her shock by a deafening boom in her right ear and the familiar scent of gunpowder, as Caspar fired his flintlock pistol from right beside her The attack succeeded in blowing a cavernous hole through the creature’s face, sending it sprawling back against a rock. "Get up!" Caspar ordered, gripping Galilee by the shoulder pulling her to her feet just in time to dodge a bite from the snarling bastardization of beast and plant. “Persistent snot isn’t it.”
As Caspar and Galilee backed away from the monster and Reynauld moved to finish it, Pointel noticed two more sets of eyes shining in the bushes nearby. "There's more of them!" She yelled, swinging her pickaxe down at one of the timberbeast as it sprang from its hiding place.
Her pick bit deep into the creatures wooden temple with a crack as it tore clear through the things head. The monster yelp and struggled to pull away from the weapon only to succeed in tearing its own head off. The wolf's glowing eyes sputtered like a candle in the wind before going out, its head collapsing into a pile of mulch. Pointel took a deep shuddering breath and allowed herself a smile as she reveled in her small victory. She was soon relieved of her reprieve by the musty odor of wet wood mixed with rotting flesh flooding her nostrils as two more beast tore out of the underbrush seeking to borrow some of her tender flesh.
Pointel tried desperately to dodge the attack and hissed in pain as one of the abominations latched onto her forearm, easily tearing through her coat emitting a sound far too similar to the crunching of bones. Just as the second turned to strike again Reynauld darted forward, his longsword stabbing deep into the monster's flank. He effortlessly withdrew the weapon from the injured as the second beast changed its target and charged at him, teeth bared.
Unphased, he swung his blade in a wide cleaving arc which cut deep into the creature’s side sending wood chips pinging off his platemail as he brought his blade around for a second strike. His tempered iron smashed deeply into the creature’s neck, tearing through it with ease belying the strength of the wielder and leaving only a larger pile of rank firewood in the monster’s place.
"Dust thou began, and to dust thou returns." Reynauld chanted, drawing out a cloth to clean the thick mucus like sap from his blade. Nearby Galilee stabbed her knife through the eye of the first of the monstrosities to appear, which caused it too to fall to pieces. The group waited, their ears keen for any more sounds, they did indeed hear the sounds of movement in the brush around them, but it rapidly grew fainter and as one they let out a sigh of relief.
Caspar looked over to where Reynauld stood examining a new chip on his blade. “Well? Figure we could get some rest now."
Pointel shook her head. "Doubtful. Wolves tend hunt in packs, and those things are reminiscent enough of the beast, though far more aggressive. I’m certain more will be coming soon."
Caspar sighed, dejectedly reloading his weapon. "Very well. Let us move then, wolf chow is not a fate I’d prefer."
The four quickly doused the fire and relit their torches, allowing them a tiny bastion of light against the increasingly dense black of the forest. They found the remains of a road twisting through the woods, their eyes dancing about for monsters and terrors they knew lurked just outside of their vision. Just as they made it to a rather dense section of the forest, they noticed one of the trees had recently had something carved into its still bleeding bark.Unable to contain his curiosity, Caspar advanced towards the great oak and read its inscription.
His eyes widened as he backed away from the inscription, his hand flying to his mouth hidden behind his bandana as he nearly dropping the torch. "M-My God..." he whispered beginning to shake like a leaf.
"Caspar, what troubles thou?" he rested an armored hand on the trembling highwayman's shoulder, only to have his hand slapped away.
Caspar drew back and faced the crew, his eyes narrowed as he took fast panicky breaths. Reynauld’s hand slowly moved to rest on his sword hilt as Caspar backed up against the tree. Slowly, the former bandit’s breathing slowed and with a slow gulp he rasped, "Nothing. Nothing, lets keep moving."
Caspar walked forwards torch held high, taking the leading position, the other three remained where they stood. Two set of eyes drifted from the retreating form of Caspar to Reynauld, the knight shook his head and the others nodded, hustling to catch up with the retreating figure. Reynauld’s gaze drifted to the bleeding tree, only to find whatever message had been there was now gone. The knight’s expression was hidden behind his visor as he turned away and hustled to rejoin the group.
The path through the forest proved to be far more winding and convoluted than the rag tag group of adventures had anticipated. They had crossed rivers, chasms, and even fields of a strange blue flowering plants. And yet their goal was still not yet in sight.
They finally reached a welcome breach in the forest’s thick canopy, only to find the clearing already occupied by a creature feasting on a brutally mangled corpse. The fur around the creature’s face and claws was stained a muddy crimson with blood and a thick scorpion-esque tail twitched as the beast tore at the body.
Caspar motioned to the side, hoping that they might avoid the beast while it was distracted, only for Galilee to step on a fallen branch with a resounding crack..
The party fell silent while Caspar stood still, his hand hovering over his sheathed dagger. The beast sniffed, before turning its lion-like head to the side and locked its bloodshot eyes on the group of motionless unfortunates. Caspar swallowed hard, icy sweat trickling down his neck as the beast flapped its massive leathery wings.
The manticore was an imposing beast, its bloodstained teeth and red drool dripping from its murderous frown. It was a nightmare made flesh, a legend believed only to exist in storybooks, a true monstrosity eyeing up a potential meal. As it unleashed a terrible roar, the four quickly formed into their battle positions and readied themselves for combat.
Caspar wasted no time and lunged forwards with his shining dirk, slicing a bleeding wound into the manticore’s paw. Or at least, that had been the plan, the monster’s flesh proved to be remarkably tough. The beast roared and slashed at the roguish thug with its claws as a small trickle of blood seeped from its wound. Caspar found himself being lifted off his feet by the blow and was sent sprawling back. With a wheeze, he slowly returned to his feet as Galilee ready one of her ceramic bomb.
The grapefruit-sized projectile sailed through the air, smashing into the manticore's face, splashing the putrid green slime over the monster. The beast roared as its nose were singed by the noxious fumes, and the fur on its face began to melt away. Reynauld recoiled as he saw a charred bit of skin drop from the beast's forehead, slowly rotting away before his eyes. "Aye, Galilee," He spoke, drawing his broadsword once more. "What's in these wretch'd capsules?"The doctor simply cackled and made a zipping motion over her mask.
Pointel reached into her coat, withdrawing a fist full of small darts, their tips coated in a sinister sheen. She smiled wickedly, tossing the darts at the manticore. Many of the darts bounced harmlessly off the legend’s hide, but one found purchase with a direct hit to the eye. The beast wailed and hissed as it lunged forwards, seeking to return the poisonous favor to the cocky women. Its stabbing barb instead found a home in Reynauld's chest. The crusader coughed up blood as it withdrew its tail and smashed the staggered knight aside. He lay on the ground dazed, reeling, about to break...
Resolutely, the injured crusader rose to his feet, reaching behind his back he raised his sacred banner to the air with a ferocious cry. A holy glow surrounding him as his stomach stitched itself back together, leaving only the smallest scar to remember the manticore’s dastardly attack.
Pointel screamed as she charged forwards, readying her pickaxe behind her head. She drew it back when she was close enough to the beast and slammed it forwards, pushing the poison-tipped dart deeper into the manticore's red cornea. And with a final whimper, it was all over.
The poison dart ripped the manticore's brain and shut down its body with a series of slow painful jerks. The beast unceremoniously fell to the ground, landing right at Pointel's feet. "Well, looks like that's that," she spoke, wiping the blood off of her pickaxe. "Now to see—" she paused when she noticed what was behind the manticore.
A corpse, nearly unrecognizable, turned to macabre confetti. Pointel stared at the mangled corpse, only a single pink hoof intact. The rest of the body had been shredded by the razor claws of the once fearsome manticore, if it hadn’t been devoured already. The grave robber turned away from the gruesome sight, her fellow adventurers hurrying forwards. “Let’s move,” she snorted. “Way this day’s been going we’re likely to be attacked by something worse”
Reynauld led the way through the forest's winding path, re-lighting their rapidly dwindling supply of torches when needed as they finally found themselves at what seemed like the path’s end. Dangling over the breadth of one of the steepest canyons any of them had ever seen was a long, rickety bridge with a decrepit building at the other end. The moon finally showed itself as the clouds parted, revealing moss creeping along the castle's walls and trees growing out of the sides.
"What? This is it?" Caspar sneered. "This is the Castle of the Two Sisters? I feel like I’ve been tricked."
