Chapter 1 - Tangled

I was surrounded by deep forest and the stench of bygone ages crumbling beneath the feet of giants. Other than the occasional faded patch of ferns or moss fighting for the right to survive, all that I could see about me was an unending march of wooden towers, crawling up a hill to my left towards the sun and falling away below me to dimmer unknown depths. I did not feel fear, not yet, but confusion registered in abundance.

Why had I come to this place? And, more to the point, how? One moment I was taking notes during an experiment with my master and the next I'm here, apparently lost and alone in this equally lost and lonely forest. The more I tried to sort the order of recent events the more convinced I became that I couldn't actually be here. It felt like I'd been reading one of those fantastic books on the history of Saddle Arabia and accidentally skipped a chapter, picking up the thread with unfamiliar characters and plots playing out across the pages where I expected to find familiar events. Even the air felt strange; if my senses meant anything it was surely mid-summer here, yet without a doubt it was supposed to be autumn. Staring uneasily at the trees around me I scuffed the ground to make sure there was actually dirt there and that this wasn't some sort of lucid dream.

Finding dirt, I sacrificed a little composure. Practicing an old technique for centering oneself when confronted with the unexpected, I closed my eyes and momentarily cleared my mind. I am a unicorn, a student of machines and magic with a passion for blending the two together. Surely I could sort this out. The thought that I might have been overdoing it a little lately occurred, but I dismissed it; everything up until now was as clear in my memory as could be. Admittedly the last experiment had been a rather novel one, but it had concluded without any explosions so... Where in Equestria was I, and how exactly...

A quiet crunching noise interrupted my train of thought. Glancing around I heard it again, a distinct crunch that came from somewhere farther up the hillside. Again, fear was absent; I was a country colt, I grew up on a farm surrounded by deeper darker woods than these! A sense of restraint did take root however; rarely does one encounter anything in the forest that can threaten a grown unicorn, but damned if I was going to be the butt of some kind of teleportation joke. As I quietly climbed up the hill the thought occurred that my master was not the joking type and, while I wouldn't put it past him, Turner lacked the ability to teleport anything anywhere, let alone me to wherever here was.

Reaching the top of ridge I peered down along the hill and eventually spotted someone standing far below near the remains of a massive stump. To my relief, it was a pony and not a Timberwolf. From the distance about all I could make out was that the pony's coat appeared to be dark gray if not black;  although he or she was close, it was dim under the trees and difficult to make details out.

Regardless, that didn't fit at all: Turner had a light brown coat, and while gray the master's coat was lighter than my own stone-toned body. With a growing sense of concern I started to accept the reality that was being presented and quickly decided I should reach out to the pony below for help in sorting out exactly where I was and how I'd gotten there.

I trotted down the hill as quickly as I could without falling, calling out to the dark pony politely so as not to startle them in the woods. Up ahead I saw the pony's head come up and turn towards me, and as I came up close I found that I could see through... It ...in several places.

While I am a calm level-headed pony, in my shock and fear and revulsion the only thought that came to mind was 'monster'. In outline the creature was undeniably equestrian, unicornian even, but it was as if parts of it's body had eroded or been eaten away like a corpse. In seemingly random places its limbs were pierced through with holes large enough to slip a scroll through, fearsome brutish fangs hung over it's lower jaw, and a dark crooked ruin of a horn rose from the battered skull. The creature's eyes were a terrifyingly dead dull blue and once locked onto mine I felt as though the world around me had gone dark,  as though nothing else existed except those dreadful orbs and me.

As adrenaline surged I tried to analyze and interpret everything in front of me so I could tear it apart with magic, but instead of attacking the nightmare seemed to bend backwards as if leaning away from me while remaining somehow fixed in place, unable to actually move. With half a dozen castings initiated and a horn that was surely smoldering with impatient magic, I hesitated.

The creature had not attacked me, which was just as well for I had no desire to use any of the castings that had come so quickly to mind, nor had it said anything or even really moved which again was probably just as well...  It just stood there in all it's fearsome glory, like some kind of grotesque statue frozen in time to frighten all who came upon it.

Unlike a statue, however, it seemed to shake slightly. After a long moment I had the sudden realization that the creature seemed to be utterly terrified rather than about to eat me. That is, assuming it's expression could be read like that of a pony.

Slightly taken aback I cleared my mind of spells and relaxed my stance into a less threatening pose. Whether due to this or the lack of magical threat, or both,  the creature did seem to relax slightly although it remained as silent and stationary as before. Unsure what else to do in the growing silence, I asked it what it was.

Elegant it wasn't, but then what do you say to a living nightmare? The creature didn't seem to understand however, or perhaps it did and had other things on it's mind; the question produced no response. When I started to ask again slightly louder it finally broke off it's rigid stare to glance around wildly, holding a hoof up in an unmistakable plea for silence.

The movement was slightly jerky but revealing; it was only then that I saw the trap. Two of the creature's legs, one fore and one rear, were ensnared in some kind of dark green-brown thorny rope which pulsed slowly in the dim light. Although I had never seen it before was a good student and had read of darker woods than those I knew as a colt. Unless I was very much mistaken, the vines which bound the creature were surely Plunder Vines.

Those were old magic, even the master didn't know much about them although he once mentioned that they and Timberwolves were creations of the same ancient force. Though much more rare than the dreaded wolves, the vines are every bit as fearsome in reputation; as the poor creature here had apparently found out, they were said to ensnare any pony or animal they can in a tangle of vines and trap them there to be slowly consumed by the vine's flowers.

Noting bulging buds on a couple of the vines nearby, I wondered if the creature knew anything of what held it. Then it occurred to me that the process might have already begun. Shivering a little myself I slowly started to back away, glancing back at it's face as if perversely seeking confirmation of my suspicions. What I saw there stopped me cold. Though unwilling or perhaps  unable to speak, no words could have spoken louder than the trail of tears that ran down it's dark shallow face. Despite it's fearsome appearance, it's fear evoked my own and I knew I had to free it. I actively repressed thoughts of what would happen afterwards.

Although the creature appeared to have the horn of a unicorn it did not seem to be able to perform castings and spells as I knew them; as I struggled against the vines through my horn and with my hooves it hesitantly tried to help by shifting its weight around, but it seemed unable to reach out through magic to help free itself. This complicated the task; every time I pried off or unraveled one vine, another would tighten and a third would try to take hold on it, forcing me to split my attention between ever more vines as I worked the creature loose. To make matters worse, the more vines I pried off the more animated the vines around us seemed to become.

Fortunately I was up to the challenge; in my colt-hood I had forced myself to learn an exceptional amount of control in my pursuit of mechanical wonders. Funny how the fascinations of youth come back to support us in time. Still, it was not easy prying at one vine or another while holding half a dozen others at bay and trying to keep several more from getting a grip on my own body. In the moment I quite forgot I was working within a leg's reach of a living corpse.

The overwhelming sense of fear and revulsion came flooding back when it finally stepped free and slowly backed away from the vines with me, but before it or anything else could take hold the ground around us seemed to erupt as dozens more vines came up through the layers of ancient leaves, seeking their prey and its accomplice.

Without hesitation, we turned together and ran.