Chapter 1: Arrival
Schism hurtled through the skies above Canterlot, weaving between the buildings, but not doing much else. He didn’t want to be here, so he avoided the combat in the streets below by acting like he was looking for an appropriate spot to launch his attack. Despite how well the battle seemed to be going Schism doubted the success of their attack, and so he tried to keep to the outer reaches of the city, rather than commit himself to the city center, where the Queen was doing battle with Celestia.
Schism landed on the roof of one of the many homes on the outskirts of the city, and he looked to the palace with a grimace on his face. Schism’s grimace was quickly replaced with a look of dismay as a bright pink sphere of energy began radiating outwards from the palace. Pushing off from the roof of the building Schism tried to escape the expanding pulse of magic, but he wasn’t fast enough. With a sickening jolt Schism felt himself being pushed by the field of magic.
Abruptly, the field simply stopped, sending Schism reeling through the air. For some reason, though, Schism found he was unable to right himself in the air, and so he tumbled for almost a minute before he crashed into some branches. He tumbled for another moment before he hit something that was too solid to break through, and so he felt his body shutting down due to the trauma.
Feeling slowly returned to Schism’s body, and with it came the searing pain running along his back. Delicately, Schism attempted to stand, but as he tried to move into an upright position one of his hooves lost its grip, and he tumbled from the tree he had landed in earlier. He landed on his back, and the pain that was present earlier was magnified ten fold. Even with his immense self control Schism couldn’t stop the groan of pain from escaping his lips.
Thankfully this fall put Schism on firm ground, and so he was able to examine the extent of his injuries without fear of falling off of anything. Much to his amazement there wasn’t anything damaged in regards to his hooves and legs, but his wings were a different story. One wing was hanging limply from his side, unresponsive in every way. He couldn’t even feel it when he prodded it with a hoof, and that sent a wave of panic through his mind.
Delicately, he moved it into a position on his back, and he then turned to his other wing. This one was in better shape, since it still had feeling, but even the most gentle of touches sent spikes of pain into his mind, so he quickly stopped prodding it. Using his fairly impressive magical skill, Schism pulled his few belongings from the magical rift he had created to store his things. Among his scant possessions were a notebook, a bottle of pills, and a small first aid kit.
With practiced ease Schism opened up the first aid kit, and he pulled out a roll of bandages. He quickly wrapped his wings to his body, hoping that what he remembered from training was correct, and that he wasn’t dooming himself to having crippled wings. A small shudder ran through Schism’s body at the thought, and he berated himself mentally for thinking like that. Several minutes passed before he finished with his wings, and he closed the first aid kit with a satisfying click.
Looking to the sky, Schism realized with a start that it was morning, while the attack had been launched in the afternoon. He had been unconscious through the night. At least, Schism hoped that it had only been one night. He shuddered at the thought, and he pushed it aside, hoping that he hadn’t missed an entire day. Quickly, he grabbed the small bottle of pills, and he downed one without hesitation.
Six years of his brother’s life was in the pills he took daily. While they weren’t crafted by his hooves, the formula for the pill was his life’s work. Even one missed day would ruin the slow chemical processes going in Schism’s body, and he couldn’t afford to craft any more pills in order to restart the program.
Schism knew that he had to get moving, but without a map, or any real knowledge of the immediate area, he was at a loss as to which direction he should start heading in. Taking a quick moment to figure out the path of the sun, Schism made an arbitrary decision, and he began his march. The forest in which he found himself varied in thickness, but it never showed any signs of habitation, something that both relieved, and bothered Schism.
On the second day of Schism’s march he found himself at the edge of a town, and nearly unable to continue, due to the hunger ravaging his body. He dearly needed some emotion to feed on, but without any contact from another living being he was running on pure force of will. He knew that he could still pull off a transformation, but it would have to work, since he knew that he couldn’t do a second one without getting some more emotion.
Digging into the paltry reserves of magic he had left, he assumed the disguise that he had crafted for himself. Rather than rely upon the forms of others, Schism had crafted a disguise for himself from scratch. It made it more difficult to find emotion, sometimes, but it was nearly foolproof, since nopony could see through the disguise of a pony they had never met before. With a quick pulse of his horn, Schism assumed his disguise, and with it a pair of saddlebags, into which he placed the notebook, first aid kit, and the bottle of pills.
A quick visual check confirmed that the disguise was complete, and Schism began his walk into the town. As he drew nearer to the town, he made sure to bring a small smile to his face, since the grimace that had been on his face could potentially draw unwanted attention.
Schism stopped for just a moment at a small sign post just outside the town. Written on it, in elegant, flowing, letters it said ‘Welcome to Ponyville’. Schism’s mind quickly dredged up some long since outdated intel reports he had seen in regards to this small town. Nothing of note came to mind, so, with a tiny shrug, Schism walked past the sign and into Ponyville.
The hum of activity was the first sensation to greet Schism as he entered the town. Apparently he had arrived just as the marketplace was beginning to pick up, and reach its peak hours. Schism knew that an environment like this was both a blessing, and a curse. The abundance of ponies made it easy to slip by unnoticed, but it also made it more likely for a pony to see one of the tiny flaws that could potentially give away the disguise.
Schism made his way through the crowd, thankfully without incident, and soon he was walking the streets of the town, simply taking in the scenery. Much to his amazement, Schism could feel a constant trickle of emotional energy coming into his body at all times. Pausing for a moment, Schism thought back to the classes he had been forced to take back in school.
The teacher had always stressed the fact that ponies were marvelous sources for emotion, since they were almost always emotive, sometimes to the extreme. They were quick to trust somepony else, and they were often a bit too eager to become friends. Now, Schism had a true appreciation for the trusting nature of ponies. It was this constant flow of emotion through the town that was keeping Schism from succumbing to the pangs of hunger that threatened to cripple him.
Suddenly, though, the flow of emotion changed. He felt energized by this sudden influx of positive emotion. He turned to look around, and find the source of this newfound well of energy, and he nearly had a heart attack when he spotted the source. Walking down the street, right towards Schism, were six mares. Each one was radiating enough emotional energy to sustain a Changeling for a month.
Schism watched in awe as the six mares passed, and the emotional energy that radiated off of them was nearly enough to soothe the pangs of hunger running through his body. Almost. As they passed Schism looked to each one, remembering the bits of info he had managed to learn of each one, although he couldn’t quite remember where he had learned what he had.
The lavender one was the leader of the group, although that was only speculation on the part of the Changelings. Her magical prowess was a threat to any Changeling’s disguise, as she was rumored to have the ability to see through magical illusions. The cyan one was a threat for a different reason. She was quick to act, and was often times unpredictable. Avoiding her was the best course of action.
The light yellow pegasus was known to be shy, almost to the point of being a hermit. However, reports claimed that she had the ability to bring any creature under her control with some latent magical ability. Schism put no stock in these rumors, since they seemed completely baseless. The orange mare was, like the lavender one, a threat to be avoided. Her ability to discern truth from lies would be a huge danger to Schism.
The pink pony confused Schism to no end. Reports claimed that the conventional laws of physics seemed to ignore her, and yet here she was, walking along, seeming normal in every way. He gave a mental shrug, and he dismissed the reports on the pink mare. Clearly whoever had gathered that intel had been hitting the ‘red sand’ a bit too hard. The white mare with the curled purple mane would be the least likely to cause a problem, since she was usually busy with her fashion.
Schism let a small smile crawl to his face. Although he was still screwed in regards to a place to live, and emotional sustenance would likely be difficult to come by, he knew where he was better than before. The smile disappeared after a moment, though. Schism realized that he knew exactly where he was. This was the infamous town of Ponyville, the residence of the Elements of Harmony.
Schism brought a hoof to his head, and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips. The groan was followed by a barely audible declaration. Despite its crudeness, it certainly did reflect Schism’s current situation quite accurately.
“I am so fucked...”
(Well, here it is. Chapter one. More will be coming soon, so be sure to stay tuned. Any, and all, criticism is appreciated, so let me know what I've done right, and what I've done wrong.)
