Chapter 1 - Oh, Hello! I've Never Seen You Before.
He stared down at his hand. In it, he held a necklace. On that necklace hung a metal circlet with eight arrows protruding and pointing outward from its center, passing its barriers, denying the cage that supposedly held them. And on the center of the arrows one word was engraved, one that was not of his own tongue, yet carried more weight than the words his own ever could: "αναστάτωση," the Greek word for disruption. He knew this object contained immense power and that he had only one chance at using it. How he acquired the necklace did not matter. What mattered was that it was the necessary piece for understanding his world as he knew it so that he might cure its disease. In his other hand he held a scroll. A scroll with the incantation necessary for activating its power. He took his eyes from the necklace to observe the landscape before him. A sharp wind came against his skin...
Ah, screw it! You guys didn't come here for some stupid backstory! You came here to see Discord get all philosophical on your asses! So, shall we begin? HAHA! Alright, let's go! But first, we have to take care of Mr. Sentimental over there. Hey buddy, you gonna get this story rollin' or am I going to have to sit through an emotional rant about how your world sucks and that you're the only one who can save it?
He started and jerked his head frantically around him, wondering at the disembodied voiced that seemed to jest at him. (Ah, crap. Am I still going to have to deal with this guy and his cliched bullshit? Oh wait, I'm the author. Damn it! Ugh, might as well see this train wreck through to the end.) "What!? Who's there?" He was unsure of what to do in light of this unexpected circumstance and could not tell whether the voice was friendly or not.
Hey, you gonna sit there and think or you gonna answer me? We gettin' this thing movin' or not? Come on, man! We don't got all day (well, we actually have as long as I want to spend on this thing, but that's beside the point).
No longer in fear, but rather confused and cautious as the voice continued to produce odd statements, he responded "I...I'm not sure what you mean. Who or what are you?"
Hey, I'm the one askin' the questions, here! But, to answer yours, I'm the captain if this sinking ship and I hope to high heaven that the iceberg we just hit won't kill us all.
Immediately, a look of worry appeared on his face once he heard of the potential death that loomed before him. "K-kill us all? What do you mean by that?"
I mean that I hope I don't impale you with my pen here. Now, if you would just stay still and keep your trap shut, I'll make this as quick and painless as possible.
The worried look refused to leave, this time growing more furrowed as he opened his mouth to once again attempt to express his concerns.
Ah, nope. I don't think so. I'm not going to let ya waste our precious time here in whiny dialogue. You have a world to save, remember? Keep yourself focused and complete the dang objective before I say that it's too late. Now, work your magic and get us on to the next set of unusual events.
"But..."
No buts. Just shut up and do it.
His look of worry was now replaced by one of irritation. "Fine, asshole," he mumbled.
WHAT WAS THAT?
The sudden explosion of the voice startled him so terribly that he nearly dropped both the scroll and the necklace. "Nothing," he responded quickly. "I was just..."
Just what?
He hesitated for a few panicked seconds trying his best to craft some flimsy lie. "I was just...beginning the incantation!"
That's what I thought. Go on, then.
"Alright, I will." He read through the parchment, etching into his mind how he needed to pronounce the strange words before him in the dialect that had taken him years to familiarize himself with and even more to become fluent in. Then, gently letting out a breath to slow his heart rate and shutting his eyes to maintain absolute focus, he raised the amulet before him and began.
This could prove incredibly interesting. Well, of course it will, since I'm the one who's making it interesting...I hope. Sometimes I fear that I'm just writing out of my rear end, attempting to appear intelligent when my story actually lacks substance entirely and is really just a polished ball of dirt.
He opened one eye as he continued to hold the symbol out before him, now softly glowing red, "Hey, could you shut it for a few seconds? I'm trying to get the story moving like you asked me to and your rambling is making it hard to concentrate."
Quiet, you! I can't be contemplative about my own skill as a writer with you talking all the time!
"Quiet?!" A smirk turned a corner of his mouth. "I can't very well do that and move the story along at the same time, now can I?"
You little son of a-.... Hmmmm, hrgh! Fine, you ungrateful piece of-
"I thought I asked you to be quiet."
*Infuriated silence*
"Thank you," he said tersely. The arrowed object was now pulsating brightly and was engulfed in fire once he read off the last of the enchanted words. He let out a sharp gasp and nearly tossed the thing from him in fear of it singeing his hand, but oddly enough the only thing he felt was warmth. He was captivated by the beauty of it, so much so that he didn't even notice the dark and twisting rift of crimson opening up before him. What managed to tear his attention away from the emblazoned trinket was the gust of hot wind that ripped at his clothes and nearly flung him to the ground. Struggling, he pulled himself to his feet against the force of the raging zephyr and immediately spied the rift. For a moment, the torrent was forgotten as he attempted to jump up and shout for joy at the top of his lungs, "HAHA! IT WORKED! AFTER EVERYTHING, IT FINALLY WORKED!" but nothing came out and he never jumped. Instead, (and sorry to cut this scene short) his breath, along with himself and everything else in his hands were abruptly sucked into the crimson void. And for the moment, the author enjoyed the silence of his own company.
Serves you write for being a smartass! You have no idea how much power I have over everything that hap-...why the hell am I still talking like he's here?! Come to think of it, I still have to figure out where I sent him...and more importantly what I'm going to do with him next...and the other one. Jeez, I'm really building with rotten timber here. Alright everyone who's still reading, I'm going to take you a little deeper in. Just imagine being sucked into a red and spinning hole in the sky without any idea of what the hell is happening and I'll meet you on the other side. I wish you fair winds and following seas. Trust me, you're gonna need 'em.
. . . . .
The combined gyration of the portal and his ludicrous velocity had never caused him to hurl in such a capacity in his entire life. Plus the intense, swirling reds all around him did nothing to ease his nausea, yet there he was tumbling through the vortex completely against his will. But regardless of what he wanted in that moment, there was no chance of turning back. That he knew very well. This whole journey was going to be a definite one-way trip, because if he even took one uncertain, hesitant step, the entire experiment would rend him into-
You know what, these are details best addressed at a later time. For now, I'm going to address our distressed adventurer. Hey man, you doin' alright there?
Through a spittle of vomit and long, dark, unkempt hair he managed to spurt out a, "How the hell do you think I'm doing?!" and then proceeded to dry-heave having successfully emptied his stomach of his meals from the last several days. He coughed forcefully and let out several anguished groans as his body convulsed with his clenching abdomen. He failed to see the end of this current madness and the stress of it tore at his psyche. Give up. Those two words resonated within his brain like the clash of a gong. Give up. They came again. He found himself now screaming past his puking and for a short instance regained control of his upset stomach. "NO! I...WILL...NOT...GIVE UP! I'VE COME TOO FAR TO DIE NOW! THERE IS NO CHANCE I-." And his stomach once more gave way to convulsions before he could muster out the rest of his (sappy and boring) speech.
Well, I think you've had enough. We're coming to the end of this brief-glimpse-into-hell soon, so don't worry. But, I gotta warn ya, this is certainly not the worst of what you'll be facing.
And with that, the world grew dark as the bright and saturated reds appeared to slow their spinning and eventually give way into utter blackness. What he remembered last was that there was some flat and firm surface beneath him as his eyes gently closed and his last thoughts emptied into his voided memory. The world as he once knew it was gone. Where he was now he couldn't care less, for he was asleep. And for some time, he lay where he was, untouched and unstirred.
. . . . .
Ladies and gents, Fillies and gentlecolts (if that's how you say it), and everything else in between (though, I'm not sure who else would have wandered this far into this awkwardly paven path of composed predicaments) we are now arriving at the good part. 'Cause I can guarantee ya, you ain't seen nothin' good yet. WAIT! No, belay that. (Way to damage your credibility, dumbass.) SHUT UP! Ok, let's just get back to the story before I talk to myself any further.
. . . . .
The sharp clack of a rock falling from somewhere rang out through the space. The sound carried over his ears and served to gently rouse him from his slumber. His eyes creaked open and a small wave of panic struck his heart and set it beating fast enough to fully awaken him. Yes, his eyes were open, but if that was so why did it look as if they were still shut? "Why the hell is it so dark?!" raced through his mind. His breathing quickened and his muscles tensed, but they didn't feel right. Like they were...out of place. Although a concerning thing, his thoughts were centered on trying make sense of his current surroundings. Naturally, he pulled himself to rise from his supine position to scout the blackness. He moved his right arm to plant his hand on the ground to push himself up, but what landed was not a hand. And quite frankly, didn't seem to be much like an arm either. In fact, it had no digits or palm or wrist, but only a joint that felt like an elbow and another that connected to his shoulder.
It was this combined with his recent traumatic experience and total blindness that sent him into a brief mental break down. What came from his lungs in regards of it was a sort of a half-wail, half-unearthly scream, but nonetheless it was loud and disturbing. Sporadically, he jerked himself to his feet hoping to gain a stable bipedal position and possibly gain control of his wits, but rather as soon as he managed the stance he found his anterior appendages to fail him and send him crashing to the ground with a comical thud. For a few moments, he was silent (thank goodness) as the shock of being completely unable to maintain an upright posture now petrified his limbs. But this came to an end as the trauma that so constricted his lungs gave way to the realization of his unexpected collapse. His vocal chords tensed, his lungs expanded with one great breath, and all the muscular energy he could muster directed itself into his diaphragm where the banshee cry prepared to be once again unleashed. Yet he only managed to let out the first note, for the author immediately took it upon himself to interject.
DAMN IT, MAN! KEEP YOUR COMPOSURE! You can't complete your damn mission if you let yourself go veritably insane!
And the words of the author served their purpose well. He stopped, mouth closing slowly, lungs deflating and diaphragm relaxing as he proceeded to ponder upon the author's profound points. Finally gaining more control of his wits, he replied, "You...you're right. All I have to do is remain calm, keep focus and shift my mind back to the matter at hand."
Do you remember what that was after having gone through that episode of yours?
"Pfft, of course I do. I was trying to figure out where the hell I was (before you went nuts), or am rather." He apparently had no recollection of why his throat had found its way into hell and brought back the sounds of tortured souls with it. Possibly, that shriek had effectively, or rather temporarily blotted out the memory, if not having caused minor brain damage. The author, deciding to avoid bringing this to light, questioned him.
Well, what have you been able to gather so far?
"Eh...not too much. For starters, I can't see a damned thing! But alas, that fact is of no use to me. Well..." He paused as he piqued his brain for any other useful information as he continued to lay near motionless on the ground (probably an aftereffect of the shock). "There isn't much else besides what I already knew before ending up here. Though, I find it strange that the charm sent me to such a place as this. It's hard to understand how this is more chaos ridden than my home world."
Maybe it could be that the most chaotic world is one without anything. Without laws to govern behavior or explain the nature of the world; without a clear objective with which to guide yourself; without any sort of wisdom to instruct you on how to live; without any shred of true knowledge; without any order whatsoever; without even a single glint of light to illuminate the path. Maybe a truly chaotic world is one that has zero governance in any way, since nothing exists to govern and nothing exists to be governed. This could be a world in which Chaos has truly become the master of all dominion, since there is nothing left for it to rebel against.
"Ah, you would think," he countered, "but that is where you contradict yourself. See, a world of nothing is exactly that! There can't be chaos in such a world, since chaos is something and more specifically the antithesis to order. Chaos cannot exist in such a world since order would have to be there right with it, and if that is true, your theory comes up defunct!" he finished with resoluteness in his voice, and four legs planted firmly on the ground. His head was as well turned and smiling through the darkness toward where he thought the author's voice sounded, he being so caught up in the brilliance of his conclusion. And he continued, "So, that rules out that this is no more than a void. It's amazing what the power of deductive reasoning can do."
Ha! You're such a nerd!
"Hey! So are you!"
Yeah, I know. And would you look at that! You're up on all fours!
"You do know that I can't even see an inch in front of me, ri-...did you say all fours?" The swirling emotions of both immense perplexity and worry began to arrest his heart as his short-term memory loss was cured, revealing to him why he screamed in the first place.
I most certainly did. You're not going to freak out and start shouting like a pubescent whale again, are you?
If there was some sort of light source in that place, he would have been visibly seen to struggle against the overwhelming urge his diaphragm exerted over him. "I-I'm trying...my best...n-not to." He was clearly panting in concordance with his spasming abs, but that soon subsided after he began to win the mental battle over himself. A little pep talk of his own served to calm him, "Don't think about that right now. We can figure it out later. You've been through worse than unexpected full-body transformations." From what he could tell, his head and neck were upright without strain, but his main body extending to the rear with...all four of his legs fully extended below that. (I'm going to be honest here: I had no real idea of how I was going to describe how he discovers himself to be a horse and I'm still not sure if it's right. Are you supposed to be talking to the audience like this during the story? Quiet, you! I can't get sidetracked with talking to myself. But you always talk to yourself. I...fair point. So, to answer you're question...I don't know.)
"But before I forget, do you think you could kindly tell me what exactly the hell I am?! I'm not human anymore, that's for damn sure!" He wholly failed to hide the irritation in his voice.
Well, I could, but that would spoil the fun.
"How the hell is any of this fun? So far I've had my guts spun out in a vortex, woken up surrounded by nothing but pitch black darkness, discovered I'm no longer a human, but from what it seems something else entirely, and to top it all off you have been absolutely no help to me!"
I'm not going make it easy for you, if that's what you're asking.
"No, no. That's not it." He sighed as he lowered his voice. "It would just be nice if you could shed a little light on what exactly it is I'm supposed to do next or where it is I'm supposed to be going."
You'll learn all of that in due time.
"Would you at least give me a hint at what I am? Just a small one?"
I'm afraid not even a small one.
"Damn it! Then who the hell will?!" His voice had once again risen in agitated volume.
You'll see and I can promise you'll get more than just a hint.
"Will you tell me who that person is?"
I think you already know the answer to that one.
"DAMN IT ALL! YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY USE-" a sudden slamming of a door nearby followed by multiple twangs of what sounded like lasers firing cut his outburst short. "What was that?" came the natural worried response in a much more hushed tone than before. The sound of multiple pairs of footsteps came tumbling from the same direction, or...the sound of galloping? "It must just be a lot of people going after...or running away from...something," he thought. The stampede grew ever closer causing him to tense up in readying himself for whatever might show. At its closest point, an angry and shrill female voice cried out,
"DISCORD!!!"
And frightened the ever-living-daylights out of him, but he was wary enough to retain his yelp within his lungs. The stampede rushed past as quickly as it came and quieted until there was no more running to be heard. "I suppose they're gone." He released the air pent up in his lungs in relief and addressed the author in a sharp whisper, "Do you have any idea what's going on out there? Or is that something you have to keep secret too?"
I believe I have a slight idea. It might be best just to see how it plays out.
"Hold on a second. I thought you were the one directing this whole ride? You said so yourself!"
If only that's how it really worked. Oh, quiet! I hear someone coming!
"What on earth do you mean? I don't hear anyth-." Another door was violently thrown open, except this time the sound appeared to come from the very same area he was in. It was by some miracle that he didn't let a startled yelp out this time, but it was reasonable to assume that amidst that darkness he was shaking (he was).
Do not make a sound.
After a brief pause, he jumped again, less so this time to hear what sounded like...poofs? Ones that had a sort of...spring to them. He unfortunately could not figure out a better way to describe them. And along with them the voice of a frantic sounding man.
"Spare broom closet, spare broom closet!" More poofs. "Where in Equestria - ("Equestria?") - did I put that spare broom closet?!" His voice was quiet but audibly concerned, so as it seemed to avoid attracting the attention of the stampede that passed by earlier and also the infuriated woman. And a raging woman on the hunt for a panicking man is never a good sign. For a moment, the poofs ceased. And then an "I got it!" quickly replaced the silence followed by what sounded like a sharp snapping of fingers. And for our character, here is where things began to get really wild. Immediately after the snap, a rectangular entrance appeared directly in front of him and through it billowed bright white light, leaving him a different sort of blind.
"Oh dear," the voice sounded once again. "I really have neglected this space. It could certainly stand to have some brooms in it." And his words were followed by a snap of his fingers. Before the main character could say anything, he was buried deep under an assorted pile of brooms, but this time he was unable to hold back making a noise at being swept off his feet, or onto his face rather. The male voice checked itself. "Odd. I'm fairly positive I didn't imbue any sentience into these things. Unless..." Another snap rang out and the brooms vanished, revealing a stallion gasping for air.
"Oh, hello! I've never seen you before. And I do wonder how in Equestria you got in here. Very odd indeed."
His eyes had adjusted to the light enough to distinguish a silhouette in the shape of a creature he hadn't the slightest what was, but had a very uneasy feeling about.
"We can make introductions and all that later over tea. For now," and with another snap of the creature's fingers he was floating against his will, "you're coming with me." That last part sent a very unpleasant shiver down his spine.
"DISCORD!" It was the female voice again, now having successfully tracked down her target to this room. "Put that stallion - (Stallion?!) - down! NOW!" the angry lady demanded.
"Oh, looks like it's time for us to depart." Another snap was heard and the stallion could barely make out what looked like a bunch of assorted brooms raining down on the voice and her entourage. "So long, Princess Twilight! I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble." An enraged "MMMPH!" came from deep within the pile and with that there was another springy poof. The creature and the stallion had promptly left. And all who remained in that room were the author and those trapped under the staves of stick and straw.
Author's Note
Oh man, this idea took forever to start. And I'm still trying to figure out how to make the author a flowing character, but hell I am getting there.
