Eddie Riggs smiled, gripping the demonhide-bound wheel of his beloved Deuce in overlarge hands as the machine growled over the hilly terrain outside of Bladehenge. All around him, the grassy slopes held groups of the victorious army of Ironheade, from Headbangers to Zaulia, mingling together, partying, knocking back some of that awful piss Mangus called “Momma’s Brew”, and generally celebrating their triumph over the Coil, all the while making toasts to Lita and Lars Halford.
He nodded, satisfied. It really didn’t bother him, the fact that his exploits weren’t being sung. Sure, he had been the one to gather the army, had been the mind behind the strategy, had been the man to finally face Emperor Doviculus and behead the monster.
He was a roadie, the best one, in fact. And as the best roadie, he knew what his job was.
‘Yep. Making someone else look good, keeping someone else safe, and helping someone else do what they were put here to do.’
And frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
His grin broadened a bit as he looked into his rearview mirror at the small figure standing on the ridge. Eddie couldn’t see her face, the distance and failing light preventing such a feat, but he didn’t need to.
Ophelia’s eyes were on him, he knew. He could feel it.
Shaking his head, Eddie Riggs settled back into his seat as the Deuce started climbing another hill. He’d be back soon, he promised himself. Just a few loose ends to tie up; a few more of those Bound Serpents, was all. His demonic side could sense the spirits deep within the statues, and it irked him to know that they were unable to be free, to take part in the hard-won independence that the rest of the land now enjoyed.
He allowed his mind to wander. Maybe he’d drop by a Metal Forge, invite the Guardian to some of the festivities. The guy looked like he could use a day out…
The Deuce then crested the hill, and Eddie paused for a moment, gently pressing the brake. He watched as the sun began to truly and properly set, a glorious wash of fiery reds and oranges quickly being chased below the horizon by the deep bruising of oncoming night.
He parked and set the e-brake, allowing a hand to reach back and softly, lovingly, pluck a few strings on Clementine, slung over his back. The guitar twanged just as softly and lovingly, a perfect little melody to join in with the approach of dusk.
Eddie Riggs allowed a sigh to escape him. For years, he had followed that shitty little band back…could he really call it home? Now, after all he had been through here in this antiquated period of time, it felt so much more like home than he could have ever believed. Here, he felt like he had purpose, direction…
Back in the old place, he had no real meaning. Just follow that band, pour his heart into his work, and watch them piss all over it. But here?
Yeah…here was home, now. Here his skills propped up people who actually needed and appreciated it, however subtle that appreciation was. Here, he had friends, family, prospects, even.
Eddie closed his eyes as the last strains of sunlight warmed his face, cooling as the kiss of dusk finally took its turn. “Yep…I got it made, alright…”
“Totally.”
Eddie’s eyes snapped open as his head spun around to look at the empty passenger seat…
Or the formerly empty passenger seat.
It was now occupied by some sort of…snake…horse…goat…lion...chicken…dragon thing reclining back on the cushion. Hard to tell what it was, really…no two parts seemed to match in anything except function. Whatever it was, it was long, it was big, and those claws looked dangerous.
And those eyes…the only things that were an identical pair...yellow surrounding scarlet that seemed to bore into him, as if they could see into his soul.
The thing smiled at Eddie Riggs, teeth glistening white in the lights from the dash, one long fang hanging low on the lip.
Eddie Riggs felt the blood in his veins freeze at the creature now eyeballing him. He swallowed, hard.
“Yo,” he said.
The whateveritwas allowed its smile to fall slack. “’Yo’?” it said incredulously. “That’s it? ‘Yo’?” The lion’s paw and the chicken foot crossed themselves like arms. “If that was the greeting I’d known I was going to get, I would have dressed fittingly.”
The chicken foot snapped its talons. A bright light dazzled Eddie’s disbelieving eyes, and he shielded his face for a moment. When he looked back, the creature was clad in an ensemble straight from the Baron’s wardrobe: black leather peaked cap and matching jacket and pants.
The roadie merely stared as the oddity inhabiting his passenger seat whipped a pair of mirrored aviators from a pocket and donned them, the sunglasses warping themselves to fit its muzzle perfectly. “Wotcher, mate,” it said, putting a toothpick into its snaggle-toothed mouth.
Eddie resumed staring. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Uh…hi…”
A moment of silence followed, during which the creature lowered the shades with its lion’s paw to frown mightily at the roadie. “The polite thing to do,” it said, voice the very sound of effrontery, “would be to introduce yourself, shake hands…you know, the typical niceties.”
The chicken claws snapped again, and Eddie found his hand gripped by the lion paw, the owner of which now dressed in a short-sleeved white button-down, with thick glasses and braces on his teeth.
“My name is Discord, Lord and Master of Chaos, Mr. Eddie, sir, and I’m your biggest fan!!” The lion paw began pump up and down relentlessly, and Eddie found himself jostled relentlessly.
“And now,” the creature named Discord said, “you’re probably wondering why I’m here, hmm?”
Wrenching his hand from the leonine mitt, Eddie snarled. “Actually, I’m thinking about how much I’d like to kick your ass!” He reached back for the handle of the Separator. “Now, get the fuck outta my…hey, what the fuck?”
As his fingers grasped empty air, Discord waved the axe in the air, tossing it from paw to claw and back. “Ooooo, yes…now this is familiar…” he cooed. “The weapon of Succoria herself! Just as shiny and sharp as I remember…”
Eddie froze, even as one massive fist had clenched in preparation of a beatdown. “Wait…how do you—”
“Oh, everyone knows about Succoria,” Discord said, flapping a dismissive appendage as he continued to stare at the weapon. “Honestly, did you think that this world and your old home were the only ones she and Riggnarok visited?”
The half-demon remained silent, eyes narrowing as the beast before him admired its reflection in the blade. Finally, Discord seemed to get bored with the axe; he turned to look at Eddie.
“Yes, we were all old, old friends…when we weren’t trying to kill each other, mind. I was even hoping for a little get-together, a reunion of sorts…and imagine how I am feeling right now! I go through the ether, looking for both of them, searching for their auras…and I find you!” He propped his chin on a poultry fist. “Now, why would that be?”
Eddie snorted, deciding to humor the creature. “Yeah…Mom died. So did Dad.”
Discord rolled his eyes. “Oh, dear, don’t tell me she died giving birth to you…how dreadfully cliché…and I told Riggnarok a thousand times, those cigarettes were going to kill him.” He paused.
“He…did die of lung cancer, correct? Don’t get me wrong, I remember everything, it’s just that maintaining a physical form requires that I only have so much room in the old melon, and unimportant details tend to get left behind...”
No answer was forthcoming; the eyes of the roadie had gone a dangerous shade of yellow, and the veins under his rapidly-darkening skin began to bulge.
“Oh, come now,” Discord said, “I didn’t upset you, did I? And here I thought we were getting along so well…” The point at the top of the Separator was used to pick Discord’s front teeth. “I do so hate how these meetings with mortals always degrade into violence…and the worst part is, you don’t even know why I’m here, and you’re ready to knock my block off!”
Eddie paused a moment, quashing the urge to knock out that single fang from his unwanted guest’s mouth as he considered the chimera’s words. He was nothing if not a fair man, and there was some truth to what Discord had said; it didn’t sit right, not knowing what it was the creature wanted.
“Okay,” he grumbled, settling back. “What’s your angle?”
Immediately, Discord brightened up and lifted his talon. “Finally! I thought you’d never ask!”
SNAP!
Now clad in a business suit, Discord stared down the long table that had appeared before the Druid Plow’s front bumper. “Firstly, the board would like to congratulate you, Mr. Riggs, on your victory over the Tainted Coil and its leader, Emperor Doviculus.” Immediately, twelve other Discords, similarly clad (save for one near Eddie’s left fender, dressed in a skirt and blouse) began to clap in polite enthusiasm (save, once again, for the one in the skirt; that one blew a lipsticky kiss and winked an overdone eye at Eddie. Eddie, for his part, merely felt slightly nauseous).
“However…”
The clapping stopped, and every eye went back to the Discord at the head of the table, who began to pace back and forth, using the Separator as a cane. “We here at Discord, Discord, and Discord, LLC, believe that a man of your talents isn’t exactly cut out for the rigors of peacetime. You, Mr. Riggs, are a man of action, a hot-blooded warrior who needs to get up and go!”
“Yeah?” Eddie crossed his arms. “And what makes you say that?”
The Discords smiled as one. “Simple; instead of staying with your friends and lover to celebrate, you decided to go and seek out the Bound Serpents, did you not? Instead of taking the night off, just a single night, you get back in your car and head off to another job. Albeit not a strenuous one…”
Eddie nodded, grudgingly so. He could see that line of logic. “Okay...your point?”
“Our point, Mr. Riggs,” a random Discord retorted, “is that we think that, instead of sitting around this land, waiting for the next conflict…which is coming, fundraising issues or not…you could be utilizing your abilities elsewhere. More specifically, another Realm entirely.”
Eddie Riggs stared. “…elsewhere.”
“Yes.”
“…as in…leave here.”
“Right.”
“…as in…go somewhere that isn’t the holy land of Metal?”
“Exactly.”
A pregnant moment of silence went by. Discord watched as it did, shook the father’s hand, and offered him a cigar.
“Okay…what part of that,” said the exasperated roadie, “even seems like it would be something I would want to do?”
At this, Discord smiled grimly. “Oh, but my dear boy,” he said, raising the chicken claw once more.
“I do not recall giving you a choice.”
The talons snapped, the table, business suit, and dopplegangers disappeared, and a massive hole, a swirling vortex of black energy that still shone with its own, unnamable light, opened up above Eddie Riggs and the Deuce.
Eddie, for his part, merely stared at it; then he said what was possibly one of the most profound things he had ever conceived.
“Huh. Well, that’s new.”
And then he had the most peculiar sensation of falling up.
Discord watched his progress, and then looked down.
“I suppose,” he said, “that you think he’ll be needing you?”
The Separator said nothing, as it was an axe and would find itself hard-pressed to do so, seeing as how it had no mouth. Discord looked at it askance.
“Are you certain? You and I could have a real slice…” He snickered. “Get it? Slice? Because you’re an axe?”
Once again, the weapon said nothing.
The Lord and Master of All Things Chaotic sighed. “No need to get snippy. Alright, then…Tee-Tee-Eff-Enn.”
And he pulled back and threw Succoria’s Favorite Weapon through the portal, which closed up behind it, disappearing as if it had never been there in the first place.
“Well…now that that business is over…” And Discord rubbed his paw and talon together in excitement as he gave a little wriggle.
“Time for my vacation to finally begin!”
It was no use, later on, for Eddie Riggs, the Ultimate Roadie, to try and remember exactly what it was like passing through that void. He couldn’t even truly remember existing in there, let alone experiencing the actual journey. He could vaguely recall that there was the smell of basil, and the distinct flippy feeling in his gut that came when he was getting used to having wings and fell from too high, and the completely new sensation he got when he fell up (there was no other word for it; he hadn’t levitated up or flown up, he had fuckingfallen up), but that was the extent of it.
Well, that, and a feeling of mind-numbing terror due to the fact that he felt a million-and-three inhuman eyes upon him, watching him, scrutinizing him as he had traversed the space that belonged to the eyes’ owner(s(es)), but that had been it.
That is, until Eddie felt like Eddie again, and that odd, new sensation of falling up turned into the completely familiar sensation of falling down, and he found himself looking at what appeared to be a forest floor rushing up to meet his—
THUD.
“Ow.”
—face.
Eddie Riggs took the opportunity to just lay there and bleed awhile. The fall hadn’t really hurt him; while it was next to impossible for him to access his demonic powers when not in the heat of battle, there were enough of them latently active to kick up his body’s natural healing process a notch, and so a broken nose was easily fixable.
‘Still hurts like a sumbitch, though…’
At least he hadn’t landed on his back; poor Clemmy. She was so going to need a good old-fashioned tuning to make up for all the punishment she had gone through recently.
Resolving to do just that as soon as the opportunity afforded itself, he idly cast his eyes about, searching his surroundings; yep, forest. Trees everywhere, bushes and crap, sounds from whatever unsavory predators were stalking whatever…
Eddie quietly groaned. And of course, he was stuck in a forest full of large animals—
An enormous snarl, some distance away but from an animal big enough for it to still be loud, pierced the air.
— make that large, dangerous, and pissed off animals, and that stupid snake-thing still had his fucking axe!
Eddie Riggs cast an extraordinarily annoyed look over his shoulder at the swirling vortex, just in time to see the shiny orichalcum of his beloved weapon flip end over end through the empty not-space, landing blade-first into the hard-packed dirt not an inch away from his still-throbbing nose as the hole closed, leaving no trace.
He looked at his reflection.
His reflection stared back.
“…okay,” he muttered. “That was a close one.”
Grunting, he pushed himself up off the ground, dusting himself off. Healing factor or no, Eddie knew that he was going to be hella sore in the morning, no mistake about it.
‘Of course,’ he thought to himself, ‘I have to live to morning, first.’
In reality, it likely wouldn’t be a problem. As long as he had Clementine and the Separator, a sharp edge and the magic of Metal, he’d be just fine…
The collective howl of a wolfpack rang through the air, and he set his jaw. Pulling the battle-axe from the earth, he ran an absent thumb over the edge, eyes darting around. It was better safe than sorry; the wise thing to do would be find some sort of shelter. What little sky he could see seemed to be shifting toward the late afternoon; that meant there was only a limited time to locate a hidey-hole, since the thickness of the canopy here would block the—
Again, a bone-chilling set of howls, sounding closer than before. Eddie nodded to himself. Time to go.
He had just begun to hack through the nearest underbrush when he heard the howling again, even closer…but underneath it…
‘Was that…a kid?’
Listening intently, the half-demon stayed quiet, hoping to catch it again…
Ah-wooooooo!
And right below that, the sound of…no, not one kid screaming…a few kids!
Without a second thought, Eddie Riggs spun around and dashed off in the direction of the shrieks. ‘Ain’t no way in hell I’m going to let some poor kid get eaten!’
Luckily, he didn’t need to look far; another clearing, this one with a small hill in the middle, a small cavern in its side, and surrounding it, snarling and snapping, were wolves.
Big wolves.
Big wolves…made out of branches?
It is a credit to Eddie Riggs’ mental adaptability that he saw this and didn’t even break stride; granted, he had seen his share of weird in the past few months, which probably helped, but even then, the oddness to which he was being subjected to would give even the most metal of metalheads pause.
All that went out the window when Eddie heard a trio of small, high-pitched voices screaming in abject terror from the grassy hillock’s innards.
Without a second thought, he launched himself into the air, axe raised high, straight at the wolf closest to the hole. This particular specimen was scrabbling around the edges, desperately trying to enlarge the hole to fit its monstrous head into, and so did not see the newcomer to the fray.
But it heard him, and he was the last thing it would hear.
“DECAPITATIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!”
The Separator slammed into the wood-wolf’s neck, cleaving through branches, splintering where it didn’t cut, crushing what remained, and an outpouring of golden sap sprayed everywhere as the head and body fell in two pieces.
Silence filled the clearing as the small voices fell dumb, and the snarling, growling pack of wolf-things were struck mute at the death of their Alpha.
The hulking figure of Eddie Riggs straightened, bringing the head of his axe to his shoulder as he casually wiped a stripe of sap from his cheek. “Alright, bitches,” he said, kicking the lifeless pile of kindling away with a boot.
“Which one of you wants to party next?”
Apparently, all remaining seven of them did. Eddie found himself beset on nearly all sides as the four-legged plants began to dart in and out at him. He raised the Separator in front of him, blade flat, as he braced himself against the hill.
“You kids...urgh…just stay inside…agh…okay?” Jerking his head back as a wood dog clamped its jaws around the axe handle, inches from his face, he lashed out with his boot. A satisfying crunch, quickly followed by a yelp, signaled the splintering of pine teeth breaking against the stainless rod. Eddie laughed out loud, and followed up his kick with a downwards swing, reducing the reeling animal’s head to toothpicks.
“Yeah, bitch! Ya like that?!”
Another broad swing of the heirloom stove in the chest of a leaping monster, which was followed up by yet another heavy hit, and another. Even as the remaining wolves leapt frantically, slashing him cruelly with fang and claw, Eddie Riggs still swung his axe.
Five wolves became four. Another fell, bisected, and four was three.
A wolf jumped onto his shoulders, only to be dashed to pieces against the stony face of the hill as he slammed against it.
Finally, only two were left, and Eddie Riggs, covered in sap and bloody scratches, merely grinned at them.
“What’s the matter, ladies?” he growled. “Eddie playin’ too rough?”
The wooden beasts looked at him, and then at each other…and promptly ran off into the woods, whimpering.
The bloodied roadie slung his axe back over his shoulder, throwing a lazy middle finger at the retreating enemy. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too…”
Turning around and bending as he did (once again, reminding himself that soreness was an inevitability come morning), Eddie did his best to peer into the mouth of the miniature cave. He couldn’t see too far into it; darkness mixed with the late-afternoon sun to shadow the inner portions of it.
“Uh…hey…” he called. “You, uh…you okay in there?”
There came the sound of a very swift conversation being held by small voices. “Y-yeah…” one finally replied. “Who’re you?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. Straightforward little snot, this one. “Name’s Eddie. Eddie Riggs.” He paused. “And who are you?”
Another whispered conversation. “My sister says we shouldn’t talk to strangers,” another voice squeakily piped up.
Eddie rolled his eyes. On the one hand, he really couldn’t argue with that logic. On the other, it pissed him off no end when people told kids that without any context. “Okay,” he said. “So you can’t talk to strangers, but you’re allowed to walk around alone in the woods?”
There was a moment of silence.
“He’s good,” said the first voice.
“So, you gonna come out and tell me your names or what?”
“Heck, naw!”
Feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on, the rocker pinched the bridge of his nose. “And why the hell not?!”
A third, raspy little voice chimed in. “’Cuz there’s a huge Timberwolf behind you, ya big dumb plothead!”
It was only then that Eddie noticed the breeze tugging and pushing against his vest.
“Oh, shit…”
The unseen Timberwarg roared its challenge to his back.
Before his mind could even truly register what was happening, his hand shot backwards, grabbing his beloved Clementine, and, as he wheeled on his heel, his other hand rose up and fell back down across the strings, unleashing a mighty power chord.
The air thrummed with the sound as the earth beneath the massive abomination bulged, cracked…and finally split, spewing forth a gout of red-hot fire directly under its belly.
Eddie watched the creature writhe in apparent agony, its branches blackening as it howled. It leapt backward, a four-legged fireball, and sprinted into the woods, roaring the entire way.
As the glow faded and the noise went with it, the roadie slung Clementine back over his shoulder. A quick glance around showed no other apparent threats—no tree dogs, no snakes, no giant spiders…
He didn’t know why the Metal Queen had popped into his head all of a sudden, but he had seen those movies with the orcs and hobbits in them, and big-ass spiders liked woods.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Eddie gave it an idle crack as he turned to the hole. “Okay, kids, it’s cool. No, uh…shrub wolves around.”
“It wasn’t a shrub wolf, dummy; it was a Timberwolf.”
The forgotten migraine began tap-dancing in his temples once more. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Timberwolf. Sorry. My mistake.”
A silence punctuated by the odd chirp of a bird pressed around them.
“So…uh…you coming out?”
The sounds of another hushed conversation emanated from the hole. “Well, that depends,” said the first voice. It had a distinct twang to it; Eddie had heard something like it when Kabbage Boy (may they forever be forgotten) had passed through the Ozarks. “Ya gonna eat us?”
He stared at the hole, whose inhabitants seemed to be content to wait on his answer. “Why would I want to eat you?”
The raspy voice piped back up. “We’re asking the questions here, bub!”
Eddie facepalmed. “Okay. Fine. I promise I won’t eat you. Now, will you just get your butts out here so I can get you back to your homes?!”
“Wait...” said Squeaky. “You know where we live?”
“No, but as soon as you get out here and tell me—“
“See?! I told you, he’s a snatcher!”
“Sweetie Belle, I don’t think he’s a snatcher…” said Country.
“Yeah.” Raspy snorted. “He looks too dumb to be a snatcher.”
“But Rarity got snatched by Diamond Dogs…”
“Well, no offense, Sweetie, but Rarity ain’t exactly…uh…”
“Apple Bloom’s right; Rarity’s kinda wimpy…”
“No, she’s not! Take that back, Scootaloo!”
“Make me!”
“Well, uh…Rainbow Dash is…um…”
“HEY!!!”
The three voices immediately clammed up at Eddie’s outburst.
“Alright. I am going to count to three…and when I get there, I had better see you guys out here front and center.”
“…and if we don’t?” Raspy still had a little sass left in her, it seemed.
“Then,” he growled, “I’m going to leave you out here and let the wolves get you.”
Another pause.
“He’s good,” said Country.
Eddie was having none of it. “One…T—”
“Wait, wait! We’re comin’out…”
Allowing himself a deep breath, Eddie Riggs tried to find his center. He wasn’t necessarily a kid-hater, but he had never had much cause to deal with anyone below the age of sixteen, and if their voices were any indication…these…these…
Eddie’s eyes widened as three little…horse…pony…things slowly and carefully crawled out from the hole. One was lemon-yellow, with a red mane dominated by a huge, even-redder bow. The second was orange, with a violet, scruffy-looking mane, and the last one was white with a curly, pink-and-lavender mane. They stood before him, side-by-side, watching him with eyes that seemed to take up the majority of their heads, which only reached up to his knee. Maybe.
He stared at them, face frozen in a rictus of disbelief.
They stared at him, almost-human faces fixed in expressions of innocent curiosity.
Eddie Riggs found himself flabbergasted; even after all the things he had seen in recent months, all the turns his life had taken, all the things he had done, what he was seeing now had stricken him speechless.
“What,” he rasped, “the everloving…fuck?”
Well…close to speechless, at any rate.
The three little…oddities glanced at each other, huddled together in yet another whispered conference, and then split to stare at him again.
The smallest one, white-with-cotton-candy-hair, raised her hoof in the air, as if in a classroom.
Eddie nodded dazedly. “Yeah?”
“What’s ‘fuck’ mean?”
‘Aw, shit…’
Several miles away, in Canterlot, a certain white alicorn was preparing to enjoy a cup of her favorite tea; her final cup of the day, in fact…
When, inexplicably, the fragile porcelain cracked, just as she had grasped it with her magic.
There were many possible explanations. The first was that the cup, being many decades old, had merely broken from age. Another was that perhaps it had been too cold, reacting aversely to the piping-hot beverage being poured into it. Still another said that she had exerted too much arcane pressure upon the thin material.
However...the last time something like this had happened...her little sister had caused a rebellion and attempted coup.
And looking down at her broke cup and the puddle of brown tea in its matching dish, Princess Celestia Sol Invictus knew, as her stomach curdled with sickening certainty, that something was not right in her Equestria.
