My Little Minecraft: At the End

Chapters

Chapter 2: Tinman
Chapter 3: We Are Not Alone
Chapter 4: Everfree Rumble
Chapter 5: Alone
Chapter 6: The Lion's Den
Chapter 7: The Hitchhiker
Chapter 8: Flight
Chapter 10: Beauty and the Beast
Chapter 11: The Pillar of Abaddon
Chapter 12: The Ponyville Think Tank
Chapter 13: I've Got My Eyes on You
Chapter 14: Infiltration
Chapter 15: Achievement: Monster Hunter
Chapter 16: Escort Quest
Chapter 17: Into the Darkness I'll Sing Them A Song
Chapter 18: The Right Hand of God
Chapter 19: The Gunpowder Plot
Chapter 20: Hope
Chapter 21: Secure, Contain, Protect
Chapter 22: The Left Hand of the Devil
Chapter 23: Meet n' Greet
Chapter 24: Enemy of My Enemy
Chapter 26: Princess of the Night
Chapter 27: A Good Mare Goes to War
Chapter 28: Words
Chapter 29: Belong
Chapter 30: First Blood
Chapter 31: The End
Chapter 32: Dragon's Teeth
Chapter 33: The Third Day
Chapter 34: Ballad of the Broken King
Chapter 35: Half the World
Chapter 36: The Unstoppable Seamstress
Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm
Chapter 9: My Only Wish is for You to Suffer
Chapter 25: English, Miner, Do You Speak It!

Chapter 2: Tinman

Chapter 2: Tinman

It is a peculiar sensation and most extraordinary series of events that led me to this moment filled to the brim of panic and terror while and a dismal moon flood my body with sensations I had thought long since conquered. No, not conquered, simply forgotten. Actually even that does not do my situation justice. It is not that I am no longer capable of fear or resistant to the sensation by any conceivable means, but the situations that I had once entered under particular circumstances to experience such a primal terror had long since been neutralized. It is not that I felt no fear, but I had nothing left to fear. Until now that is. Now I lay in a hole, cowering under mounds of dirt with only the light of a torch to guide my hand, steady my tremors, and gather my sanity.

But I am getting ahead of myself. It is through these pages I have crafted, this pen I have molded, and this ink for which I have foraged that I can keep track of my thoughts and bring them focus. Through these items I can think and calm my rapidly beating heart. It is with the scratching of an iron pen that my eyes focus. It is the flickering of light that my panic settles. Be at peace. Calm down... calm down... calm down...

Just write down what happened...

...

I have built many creations since I acquired my first thoughts. My first instinctual desire hammered into me a purpose: to build and create. It is such a menial task, but I was and still am ridiculously good at it. To start my tale, I was gathering ores for that purpose; I had done the exact same thing a hundred million times before that. Maybe even more; I had long since stopped counting the repetitions in my routines. But this time, this one time was the same and yet so different. So frighteningly different.

I had mechanized what constituted the majority of my legwork. The only things I still did by hand are mining and crafting. It was not out of any slothful desires, but that same compulsion I have to create. I saw a means to make life easier for myself and so I set down an objective. Am I making extensive trips over land or vast bodies of water? Why don’t I make a rail station controlled by redstone circuits? A mountain needs to be flattened for future use? Set up a chain of explosives instead of mining it all piece by piece. Need more gold? Take a venture into an obsidian portal armed to the teeth.

It had been under one of these circumstances, a need for more iron to replenish my stores, when it happened. I was returning from my mines when I heard something. It was a sound, the faintest of whispers on the grassy plains. There were no animals nearby; I had them penned in long ago. My next guess ventured into more pressing territory: one of the wandering creatures that infested the Overworld. It was not out of the realm of possibility, even if it was improbable. The path I had taken to my mines was well lit with a series of glowstone street lights that illuminated the surrounding area for several meters into the darkness, but I saw no creature advance.

My next guess was the most likely: one of the wandering Endermen.

There a few non-domesticated creatures that inhabit this wide, wide world, but only two are of serious note. There are of course giant spiders and their poisonous brethren, skeleton archers that occasionally use spiders for mounts, a sickly slathering creature that resembles a sickly, twisted version of myself, a gelatinous mesh of fluid, and the silent and wily creeper that detonates itself in its attempts to slay me. The two of note are creatures similar to myself that inhabit rustic villages and do little besides mingle with each other, and the Endermen.

All Endermen are roughly three meters tall and posses skeletal frame. Their arms and legs are equally spindly and emaciated and their bodies are surrounded in an otherworldly purple haze. While their heads are vaguely humanoid in shape, they are solid black save for a pair of purple eyes (if someone besides me reads this, don’t look them in the eyes). They are a mysterious race of creatures which I know little about, but they seem fond of picking up objects and observe them for reasons I cannot hope to fathom. What is it about everyday objects that fascinates them so? I do not not understand, but I leave them to their own devices, even if it gets irritating when they remove sections of my buildings.

I suspected Endermen were never native to the Overworld. For one, I did not see one for many, many years since I started building. Secondly, Endermen construct their own portals. I have seen only one, but have not been able to enter it. The portal I found was blank, an empty greenish frame devoid of any signs of activity, with 12 green stone arranged in a square. All of the stones had small slots engraved in their sides. While most of the slots were empty, a few had a strange stone set in. The stones resembled the eyes of the ocelots I occasionally see in rain forests. I have not seen such stones naturally in the Overworld or Nether; I concluded that such stones must be unique to the Endermen’s own home on the other side of that strange, incomplete portal. But I did notice that they resembled the pearls Endermen left when they die. Upon their death, an Enderman’s body evaporates and the remains and leftover vaporous energy crystalizes into an iridescent turquoise pearl. I do not seek out pearls and I do not wish to slay Endermen, even by accident; they are formidable creatures that require all my wits and skill to defeat and not perish in the process.

I do not often hear or witness it, but Endermen do speak. I have never been able to ascertain the context, grammar, pattern, or syntax to these bouts of dialog, only vague impressions. General comments seem to be given a deep, gurgling pop while they reserve a higher, more musical sounding whistle for brief conversations with each other. I have spent many nights observing these beautiful and terrifying creatures; I even have several books dedicated to them and my collective accumulated knowledge on them in my central library. They seem content to go about their business and ignore me as long as I do not make eye contact. Are they unable or unwilling to acknowledge my existence for some reason? I do not know, but I dare not let my gaze wander around these formidable creatures, for if I do, I shall provoke their wrath. I refuse to do so, even though it is the only reaction I can pull from them. They are the only creature besides myself with a measurable degree of intelligence, and for that, they receive my respect of their desire to avoid eye contact. I like to do so whenever possible, but there have been accidents where an Enderman has forced my hand to violence.

I thought the whisper was another fragment of conversation lost on my ignorant ears. If that were the case, I would have kept my pace until I reached my home. But something held me back and I think it was the sound. No, not the whisper, but the ambient noises around me. I had long grown bored of the calm and the quiet that pervaded my many places of residence, so I set up my own underground complex that plays a different tune for each home.

Everything was silent. No sounds of my crudely orchestrated music, no sound of rushing water from the nearby streams, and no sounds of livestock from their nearby pastures. It was quiet. So very quiet. I could vividly feel the pulsing of my palm against the handle of my iron sword as my heartbeat began to race and my sweat slowly build. I heard the whisper again. It was quiet. Ethereal even. It was not quite like the fluid grace of an Enderman with their whistles and pops but something... else is all I can say. It brought the same chills down my spine as those I had felt when I saw a creeper for the first time. That experience was repeated again ages later when I found out I was not alone in the night with these beasts. Endermen, as I had named them, entered the world and my first startled glances brought the creature’s wrath upon me faster than anything I had seen before. By sheer luck and the grace of fate, I was in a cramped tunnel I had dug in the earlier daylight hours and was safe from their dark touches.

There was a darkness that I felt creeping upon me, a sense that I was being snuffed out by the very shadows I had parted from. I do not fear the dark and the horrors it brings. It only gives birth to another beauty and a field of stars that I never tire gazing upon. But this night brought forth something new and horrible from within me. It was quite like the primal fear of death a suicidal creeper or a vengeful Enderman or berserker cave spider induced in my heart during my earlier experiences in the Overworld. I still felt the rush of adrenaline and tightening of my muscles. I still felt the same flight or fight instinct. I could do either: wound and weave with an iron blade or run for my life as a Potion of Swiftness engulfs my guts in power. So why was it this one time that filled me with undeniable dread? What rationale did I have? No creatures stalked me. No Enderman accompanied me. No absurd creation of mine had gone horribly awry.

So why could I not overcome the overwhelming feeling that I was being watched?

I could not move. I commanded my legs to run at that instant, and my brain responded in earnest, but my limbs refused to respond. I could feel the endless reservoir of energy inside of me. That strength was always at my beck and call, to summon forth and seal away matter into streams of energy that quietly tucked themselves away inside my own being. It was akin to instinct that I could call forth whatever stored items I have into being, a siren call that could not be denied. But whatever devilry had locked me in place had paralyzed my abilities as well. Terror, for the first time I felt a very real, very undeniable terror. I had lived for such a long time. I had faced down terrible odds against superior forces and come out alive. But this time... I had no ability in me to fight. I have the skills, the tools, and the will to defend myself, but that is what made my situation sink cold, icy talons into my heart and freeze my soul. I had the capability to fight, but not the ability. I was in the palm of something that I could not face by any means at my disposal.

I could feel a presence behind me, something greater and more terrible than I can possible describe with the ink I now wield. The shadows behind me slowly devoured the light from the waxing moon and glowstone lights I had placed. The once bright night now seemed meager in the presence of my dark companion. Then I saw them. There was a cluster of about a half-dozen pairs of phantasmal eyes gazing off into random directions about 50 meters out. They were in my peripheral vision and thus I did not incur the rage inflicted by direct staring, but for the first time ever, I was awfully tempted to do so. I wanted, no, needed to summon the Endermen to attack myself in hopes of dispelling the foul plague that crept up my spine.

The Darkness had stuffed out my once great castle, a sanctuary and pillar to my own vanity. There were faint shimmers in the Darkness, the last fight left in the light as it struggled to pierce the great, belligerent cloud consuming me. It was all for naught, as the lights were soon dimmed and vanished, dashed as quickly as my hopes for salvation. I started shivering due to the cold sweat staining my clothes.

But I could still make out the wandering gaze of the Endermen. A few were coming closer, but still seem unaffected by the Darkness. Why can they not see me!? Could they not feel my terror? In my darkest moment, they still shun me from their presence? Was I wrong about them? Are they no different than the beasts and monsters that prowl field and forest with me?

WHY DID YOU NOT HELP ME!!!

I am tired right now. So very tired. I need to sleep. I need to rest. I don’t even know if I want to wake up if I fall asleep...

I just want this to end...

But that self preservation instinct just kicked in when that thought crossed my fevered mind. I need to collect my thoughts and my bearings. There’s just a little more. Just a little more to write. Just breathe. Calm down. Breathe... breathe... breathe...

In... out... in... out... in... out... in... out...

In...

Out...

May peace fill my mind and steady my hand. I am so very tired right now, in body as well as mind.

But I must finish my tale which only my lonely self will read.

The Darkness was... flickering. I had come to know natural darkness as a blanket akin to the one I tuck myself under every night. The sun rises, the moon sets. The moon rises, the sun sets. For each celestial body that commands the heavens, curtains of warmth and darkness enclosed the lands. The Darkness that flanked me did not abide by those same set of rules. It reminded me of the Void Fog at the bottom of the world. The Overworld, esistence itself, has a bottom. Why wouldn’t it? Well, that is not entirely correct. There is one, and precisely one, hole in the bedrock. I suppose after millions and millions of kilometers it would be reasonable to have a hole in there somewhere, a sinkhole into the great beyond. I have gazed into the Void and saw nothing save for an endless black fog. The start of the Void, or maybe its end?

The closer I get to the Void, the denser the Fog; the first several meters above the bottom of the world had increasingly thicker and thicker mists and shadows that hid everything from my gaze. But peering through that hole in the world, the darkness was absolute and all-consuming fog of black. The Darkness closing in on me from the rear and sides greatly resembled the whips and particles I see in the Void. But whereas the Void and the darkness at the bottom of the world were static, this one was freely moving. It was ensnaring me, cutting off my escape if I was mercifully granted the ability to maneuver.

It was at this time I realized that I had yet to hear that whisper again. Now sitting here writing in my journal I realize that I did not want to, but as if my thought summoned the resonance, I did anyway. It was low. Deep, almost guttural. Not a low, breathy sound, but short, staccato pulses.

I still had my sword, but I could not use it. I had my potions, but I could not drink them.

My sword... by the powers that be...

I really wish I hadn't done it. I really wish my mind was in ignorance to what had happened. I could not swing my sword, but I could still move my eyes and gaze upon the iron's reflection. It was utter Darkness, save for one, small detail. Whatever part of me that was not shaking in fear was after that moment. Oh, the irony. When I thought I was really alone, I saw the eyes of something looking at me.

In the reflection of my sword, I saw a pair of eyes. Ones not directed at my back, but at the reflection of my sword. Eyes in the dark behind a wall of violet energy.

An Enderman... and a Nether Portal?

A low gurgling brought my eyes forward into the chest of a rail-thin creature. One of the Endermen from the far away group had finally wandered over and its eyes were also on me. My eyes turned back to the eyes behind me. I was unsure if looking at an Enderman through a reflection would anger it, but that appeared to not be the case. However something was quite wrong with the situation, the Enderman was still staring at me. I have never before known an Enderman to view an object for more than a short period of time, so what was different now?

Now that I think on the matter with a clearer mind, I have no conscious thought or guess as to how a Nether Portal came into being behind me without my notice. I have created other such portals and stepped into the hellish landscape of the Nether on the occasions in which I must venture there to gather materials and supplies. In such cases, mass farming of mushrooms and reagents for potions were my chief concern, but with another dimension comes a whole new set of horrors. Foul creatures inhabit that place.

The Enderman to my rear was behind the portal. The swirling energy and the Darkness consumed everything so that the only visible objects left in the emptiness were myself, the Enderman to my front, and the Nether Portal, and the Enderman behind said portal. Due to the phantasmal energy of the Nether Portal, the poor angle of my sword, and the all-devouring shadows that cut off escape, I could only see the ghastly eyes of the Enderman to my rear in my sword's reflection. Those eyes... they were still staring at me. I swear on my soul I saw emotion in those eyes, a deep, black, bottomless mass of hate. It was not a gaze, but a glare. It was a litany of curses and condemnations. I was in the presence of raw, seething hatred directed at my own pitiful existence and no more. An Enderman was fully prepared to kill me at will; its slightest touch burned like fire, dissolving blood, bone and tissue with a single stroke of its spindly limbs. But given my incapacitated state, I was in no condition to fight back. A portal into the Nether with all of its unholy inhabitants and boiling pools of magma can slay me just as easy. Legions of undead soldiers, creatures made of fire and brimstone that heave gouts of flame at the slightest hint of my presence, and the large floating ghasts with their bone-chilling cries and bolts of fire. I wasn’t being murdered, I was being left for dead.

The Enderman in front of me gave a series of whistles and the one behind gave off another dry whisper. It sounded so... foul. I had never surmised such creatures could contain such malice and disgusting traits. But the real horror came soon after. The eyes behind me moved slightly and the mists of the portal were disturbed from their languid patterns. I was about to be pulled in, but that’s not what drew out my last remaining stock of terror. I could not see the Enderman’s limbs in the reflection of my sword, but what I did see was an outline of purple haze that was the portal slowly shifting colors. The violet energy of the portal was slowly turning a bright, bloody red. The crimson blemish spread to the rest of the portal on its ethereal currents like a bloodstain staining a piece of cloth; it looked every bit as unpleasant as it felt.

Once the taint completely enveloped the portal, the once peaceful violet energies erupted in violence. The currents were fast and furious, driven by the vengeful presence of the Enderman to my rear. All of my portals were built to be as isolated as possible so I do not stumble into hordes of monsters after leaving one in the dark, so I had never experimented with what would happen with contact with those creatures.

I felt a tug on my shirt. I started to fall backwards, stiff as a board. All I could see through the reflection of my sword were those eyes, those cold, hateful eyes. Never from any of the monsters I have faced have I felt the need for blood, a lust for violence. I bear no ill-will to the Overworld’s night time inhabitants for their desire to expunge the one and only interloper this world knows. But their aspirations for my death are not unreasonable; I can understand the perception that I do not belong, that I am an invasive body inside this wide, wide world and need to be destroyed.

Please understand I bear you creatures no malevolence.

But those eyes... there was so much more than that. Those violet eyes, ones now shrouded in red with the creature’s poisoned touch on the Nether Portal mists, made me feel a lifetime’s worth of hate. This beast did not wish me just death, but the complete and utter eradication of my existence.

But then my body fell into the red abyss and I knew no more.

It is at this time where I must state the obvious once again for my own convenience. Because if I don’t, I may not understand the vividness of the following experience if I decide to read these pages at a later date. I have entered the Nether hundreds of times, but there was one key variation in this instance.

The Nether Portal is a door into another world. The mechanics of such a device are mostly unknown to myself, but there are some key points I am able to ascertain. There are two main features, but only one that I have been able to understand until this point in time. The first is the energy in the center of the portal. Upon entrance, the vortex tears my body into shreds and recreates it on another plane whenever I step into a portal. I hypothesize that, since the Nether and the Overworld are so similar in design, monsters aside of course, there will always be a Nether Portal in the Overworld where there is one in the Nether. Furthermore, since they are so similar to each other, very little energy is needed to shift myself from one world to another. It is also the reason why the creation of a Nether Portal in one realm would duplicate it in the other.

Then there is the second aspect of the Nether Portal: its obsidian border. I have never questioned why a Nether Portal can only be made with black obsidian since it is the only material that can create an operational gateway. I do not know the finer details, but the obsidian now makes sense. It is, by far, the strongest minable substance in the Overworld and the Nether combined. Its strength is of the highest grade, capable of resisting a creeper’s suicidal self assured destruction or any damage inflicted by my own concoctions or explosives, so I thought its use stemed no further than a building material.

I now know that to be false. I can explain why such materials are needed now, but I wish to follow my train of thought until I discovered it in real time. I will come back to this point shortly.

But the difference I pointed out earlier comes into play now and tangentially ties into the use of obsidian. Whenever I stepped into the vaporous gate and into the Nether before, it was naught but a simple tug on my navel and a feeling that my molecules were being rearranged. This time, under the influence of the Darkness and the hateful Enderman, the sensations diverted from the norm in that there was another sensation added to the queue: falling. No, not falling; pulling. I was pulled backwards into a bloody-red vortex of nothing but tempestuous leylines of energy. It always seemed odd to me that a Nether Portal sustained itself for so long without rest. How could it do so? To create a Nether Portal, all one requires is the obsidian border and fire to create the first spark.

It was here where I discovered that it was not fire that made a portal burn for eternity, but something else entirely. There were more than just violets and reds in the new space I was in, but blues, greens, browns, whites, blacks, yellows, the brightest of pinks, and the deepest of gold. I was in an endless space filled to the brim with currents of energy of every size, shape, and color. Every single fiber of this place ran its own course, giving the impression that this new realm, this world in between worlds, worked in uncountable numbers of different energy. There was far more than just the Nether Portal violet energy. So, so much more. There was so much raw power here. For all this time, for the countless millennia that I have lived, I had yet to bear witness to a fraction of the power this place commanded. It was a magnificent kaleidoscope of hues and shades, far beyond any of the dull greens and grays of the Overworld. Every shade of color had its own eddies and currents, its own streams and rivers and oceans that branched off into a million different directions and each of those into a million more. It was a maelstrom within a bright summer day that ensnared me in all of its beauty, glory, and splendor.

There were so many different paths to take, so many wonders to explore. I had only known what was on the other side of a docile violet veil. I could have never comprehended the sheer scale of what I was seeing. Oceans turned to rivers, rivers into rapids, rapids into streams, streams into brooks. Did... did each of these uncountable ribbons branch into other worlds like the Nether? Is my world only one of many?

I had no time to ponder such philosophical queries, for I was caught in one of the currents. It was the same bloody-red in color. It swept through me, carrying me across that colorful space. It was not like being caught in a river of stream in the Overworld. Natural rivers were brutish and arrogant by nature, always pushing and shoving against whatever was caught in their grasp. Those currents made no noticeable effort to attract or repel me, but I was still pulled with it nonetheless. I tried to fight the current, but every single movement and thrash had no effect. I was caught in the flow that was impossible to escape from no matter how hard I tried. So, quickly I sped through the tempest with only a ribbon of energy to guide my path. It was faster than any boat, boot, or minecart that I could create. The pace at which the red current pulled me was simply unbelievable. I did not feel wind in my face, but the pace sent an explosion of visual impulses to my brain that proved impossible to understand.

The current turned and twisted in every direction possible, in loops, knots, down tunnels of compacted energy, and then in even more twists and turns. My body did not flail at the extreme speeds or centripetal forces stressed on it; most of the natural laws I had firmly believed in did not seem to apply in this strange space. I did my best to keep track of my direction, but the velocity and frequency of turns the current made the task impossible. It seemed uncountable ages until the current straightened out and finally moved with relative ease. The current that pulled me across the space between spaces had been reduced to a mere trickle of its former raging flood of power. What would happen when the flood ran out of strength? I did not know for certain, but my suspicion was that I was soon going to be deposited into another world. I did not have to wait long for a confirmation of my suspicions.

My next experience will be difficult to describe, but I will do my best. I was still being pulled along the ribbon of red energy that was slowly degrading into nothing. Particles were breaking off from the central mass and decomposing at the deprivation. But I believed I saw my intended destination. There was a spherical mass of blue and white energy constantly colliding and reforming in a never-ending dance. For every advance one of the semi-corporeal ribbons of energy made, it had to give up ground in another space. It was every bit a war as it was a dance, a constant struggle for momentum that never seemed to end. But neither side seemed dead set on devouring its pair, only seeking to continue the battle. No, I was wrong. It wasn’t a war, it was a contest of wills, a playful game between friends where the game was played for the game’s own sake. I would have laughed a little if I wasn’t so terrified from recent events.

Attached to the glowing twins were five black spheres, each a separate mass of swirling black energy ribbons akin to the one that guided me. While the twins were busy in their play, these black spheres were completely still. Each one had growths over their surface, a massive construct of interweaving black tendrils that branched across the twins in a confined shell. The twins continued nipping at each other playfully, both seemingly completely unaware of the prison of black fibers they were concealed behind. Nonetheless, the conjoined twins were simply doing what was in their nature, just as I then rode ruby-red rapids across an unknown expanse. It made sense when seeing those stagnant black spheres, those silent sentinels concealing their charge within. I need more information to make a hypothesis.

The current made a small correction and set a course dead set on one of the great black spheres. I would have started thrashing against my bonds if I believed it would have proven fruitful in the slightest. But then it happened; the vaporous streams of red evaporated into nothingness and I saw what was at its core: a single midnight-black strand of energy.

...what in the Overworld...?

The black strand came into contact with the black sphere and I heard them again: a low gurgling and a dry whisper. I then knew what was so off about that whisper. It wasn’t a type of conversation, it was laughter, a deep, growling chuckle at my predicament. Now that I think about it, I hope I am not being followed by the Enderman. No matter where I am going, I don’t want to see them. Not now, not ever anymore. The thought crossed my mind, is it possible that they were? Could they follow through that great expanse? Was I approaching their own homeland? I could not look behind me to verify and I was still so unfamiliar with that strange space.

As soon as I entered the sphere, the entire space seemed to resonate with a ripple. It was like moving through molasses or sludge, but that ripple resonated across that particular sphere's capillary network. When the pulse reached the end, the ripple branched off into the networks of the other four swirling black ribbons. But as quickly as I entered, I left the black energy and was facing the playful twins. Size was difficult to ascertain in that chaotic space, but my estimate was that each ribbon was about twice my mass. The black thread came into contact with the pair of energy ribbons, myself along with it, and my vision vanished in a flash of white.

There was something unique and inexplicably calm in that bright light. I can't put the sensation down in words; heh, that's been happening a lot recently. I've experienced so much I never thought possible in a few minutes; so many more emotions, so much fear and terror, but for a few moments I basked in a blissfully cleansing light. I really didn't care about my predicament anymore. I was so emotionally exhausted from my ordeal that I accepted this rest without query or complaint. It was warm; pleasant even. I could just let my immobile body relax and let the light envelope me like a warm blanket made out of a pleasant sunlight. I could forget my new and frightening experiences, the feelings of hatred and betrayal I mutually felt for the Enderman, and the long tedium my life had become in the Overworld.

I was... happy.

I didn't need to build, or worry, or feel. I could just... be at peace...

But then the cold came.

It was not an unpleasant chill, but proved to be a stark contrast to what I had just felt, the warm embrace I was forced to leave. I gasped for breath, tasting fresh oxygen for what felt like the first time ever. The air was crisp and clean; it tasted like wood smoke, freshly-cut grass, and the stirrings of water on distant winds.

Breathe...

The remaining traces of warmth depleted themselves as I began to feel more and more sensations. Although I do not believe my limbs were working at the time, my sense of touch was coming in stronger. I was lying down on my side; I could feel the thin blades of grass tickle my neck and the moist ground dampen my dirty clothes. I could feel the air nipping at my sweat-stained back and neck. It wasn't too bad, but still colder than what I am used to and it reminded me what I was just deprived of only moments ago. If I didn't get a dry shirt, the air might prove too cold for comfort later on. Was it night then? That could explain the temperature.

Breathe...

I decided to take a risk and open my eyes. Honestly, I was afraid at what I might see, but it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I thought. If I could see anything, anyway. All I could make out was a dull blur and a rainbow of pastel colors. I saw browns and greens and yellows; what colors I couldn't make out were blurs of a dark gradient. I did see a few flickering shades of yellow. I guessed they were torches; I couldn’t be sure until my vision cleared. My limbs were starting to twitch a little. I don’t know how long it took for me to become this aware of my surroundings. My hands fidgeted ever so slightly and I could feel my nails raking at the ground, collecting dirt under my nails. I always hated the sensation of dirt under my nails.

Breathe...

I noticed that the hand I just used was my right hand. And it was empty. I tried moving my head to search for my weapon, but everything was still a blur of colors. Between being able to move and seeing properly, I needed mobility in case danger would come for me. I needed to will my body into working properly. My legs felt like lead as they slowly pushed a groove into the moist earth. My feet pushed aside something growing in patched, but I couldn’t make them out yet. I then realized that my head was resting against something soft as well; was I in a garden of sorts? I couldn’t tell just then; I felt as if I had mistakenly drunk a Potion of Weakness and was suffering through its effects.

Breathe...

Success; I managed to sit up. I was still weak as a newborn kitten, but it was progress. I was beginning to make out the rough shapes of large brown objects all around me, each with their own torches to light up the area. I thought, if the place at least had decent lighting, I need not worry about creatures coming out of the woodwork and munching on my toes.

Breathe...

I really was in a garden and what a sight it was. I saw arrangements of flowers of at least a dozen different colors and several other different leafy green shapes dotting the ground in neat rows. It was still too fuzzy to make out finer details, but I could at least identify a garden and discover that the brown shapes were buildings. A civilized area; that is always good to see.

Breathe...

It took five attempts to stand before I managed to do it right. My knees were shaking non-stop and I needed to brace myself against a wall to hold myself up. My vision was clearing and my body strengthening. Don’t get me wrong; I was still in no shape to fight, but I needed to move. I needed to move to get the blood flowing and to find a more secure position. I made a quick search of the ground to check if I could see an Enderman out of the corner of my eyes and my search proved - thankfully - fruitless. But I needed shelter in the case my instinct proved wrong. The garden I landed in was lit up enough for my comfort, but shelter would be better, so I ventured deeper into town. I wondered if those peculiar milling villagers in the Overworld have anything to trade. That is assuming that the town was their home, of course. I really needed a sword right right then and there. But I did not see any villagers with their odd clothes and big foreheads. Everything looked abandoned.

Breathe...

How strange is it that life comes full circle like this? Now that I write this, I realize how closely it mimics my experiences and memories of when I first became aware in the Overworld. I awoke, I began testing myself, I searched for danger, and lastly I sought safety. I am reborn and the cycle continues anew. I woke up in the grasslands without a name to call my own. I don’t know how I got there, why I was there, or where I came from.

The cycle continues anew.

I am near the end of the entry, but there are still three events of note to write. The Portal, the creeper, and the other creeper. Each one was just one mistake after the other. I shouldn’t have attacked that creeper and angered the big blue creeper, or whatever it was. Stop rambling; bad Crafter!

I digress.

My weakness made my time difficult. I was correct in assuming exerting myself would help clear my foggy head and strengthen my limbs, but having that fatigue in the first place was most unhelpful. I was making very poor time and needed a wall to support myself at almost all times. But on to more interesting thoughts; what an odd place this turned out to be. Every door I tried to open was locked and there was debris all over the cobblestone roads. The latter surprised me more than the former; why have such an impressive, if horrendously garish, town and not have it look at least presentable? Why go through the effort and not have it be able to stand the test of time? Why did I see a building that looked like a cake?

I found out how wrong I was very shortly. The debris was not due to the lax building and maintenance ethics of this town’s creators, but from an all too familiar source. For a brief moment, my weakness took a hold of me once more and I stumbled to the ground next to a...cake? A cake building? I honestly have no idea what the place was, but it too was locked. As I got back up, I glanced through a display window and froze. It was not the vaguely similar confectionary treats I saw under display cases and jars, but an object in the window’s reflection. For all this time, I did not do one thing that I should have done: look up. On the top-most part of the window, I saw the reflection of a great black border.

My heart had sunk to my stomach before I even turned. I already knew what I was going to find, but I had to see it anyway. I needed confirmation for this demented madness this night had wrung from my mind. My head turned upwards and I saw it. Hovering in place was a titanic Nether Portal, a gateway far larger than any I had thought possible. I know for a fact that a Nether Portal must be built 4 meters by 5 in dimensions and made of solid obsidian; I have tried dozens of other variations to create a Nether Portal with only that one schematic for success.

So why did I see a Nether Portal in the sky well over a kilometer wide? And why was it deactivated? That was a thought for later because I immediately had more pressing matters to attend to. I should have been aware of my surroundings. I should have realized that something was wrong from the start. I should have heard the noises coming from the buildings. I should have noticed the door opening beside me.

I had walked into town a small ways to get a better view of the Nether Portal. My shock and awe at seeing such a massive gateway clouded my instincts for a moment and I was no longer aware to the sensations around me, despite my vision being sufficiently clear. I heard a noise and turned to the right—

CREEPER!!!

Alright, I did not need to write it like that, but that was my first thought down to the letter. I saw the green quadruped staring directly at me, mouth open, only 5 meters away. Instinct kicked in faster than rational thought and I summoned from deep within myself that vast well of power. I had stored away several potions inside myself for future use and I desperately needed one at that moment. I had one potion of Slowness left and that was the first one to come to mind; I had no weapon to fend off the explosive beast and so my first course of action would be retreat. The energy well inside answered my call and coalesced in my palm, forming the glass ampule of vile liquid. I threw the potion at the creeper and ran. My aim was true, but that’s exactly what startled me.

I heard the glass break as soon as my back was turned to sprint and heard a screech of torment from the creeper. My fatigue vanished from the terror of that scream; I made the same noise several times before I stopped speaking altogether. But creepers do not scream; they don’t have the vocal chords to make noise. There was something very wrong here.

The cloud in my mind lifted with a dose of adrenaline and another took its place under the guise of an all-consuming fear. What was going on? What was going on!?

What was going on!? CREEPER’S DON’T SCREAM!!!

I sprinted as fast as I could out of town, away from that strange creeper and... it had golden eyes. And an odd lump on its head. My mind didn’t come to terms with the fact it might have been something else out of sheer reflex and years of conditioning. I attack or run from creepers because that’s what I do. But creepers don’t have golden eyes, but solid solid black ones.

So if that wasn’t a creeper, what did I attack?

It was about here where my third problem came into play. I exited town immediately with a wake of noise following me. I looked back for a brief moment and my jaw dropped; creepers of every shade I could possible imagine and more were exiting the wooden buildings to investigate the screaming creeper’s location. By the Nether...

I still have no idea what happened in that little town. Why so many different creepers?

Next came two noises: the first was a chatter from the creepers. I couldn't understand what they were saying at my distance, and I didn't want to. The creepers could converse apparently; that was a surprise indeed. The second was far more chilling. There was a steady, deep noise that was rapidly coming upon my position from my flank. I did not turn to seek out the noise, I only wished to get to the forest as fast as possible. I was almost there, just 20 more yards...

I was flung off my feet with a blast of wind as something very large landed behind me. The trunk of a tree stopped my flight and my head snapped back at the whiplash. Blinking back the pain, I saw my pursuer and immediately wished I hadn't. It was another creeper, but this one was almost twice as large as the first and given the color of a deep blue; it must have come to the other creeper’s aid when it saw my flight, but that didn’t make sense. Creepers don’t help each other either.

This place was rapidly throwing all my preconceptions into a pit and flooding it with magma. If these creatures weren’t creepers, what were they? My best guess was a form of cattle due to the longer ears, extended snout, and hooves, but this one had wings and a protrusion atop its head. The first creeper didn’t have the first boon, but had the second. A separate breed perhaps?

The strange(strangest?) thing about this creeper, however, were the eyes. Its gaze was piercing beyond measure, as if it attempted to force its way into the corners of my own mind to reveal whatever little secrets might be lurking there.

Have my secrets, I just want to stop being scared.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Viktor Lionheart, Ebony Eliis

Chapter 3: We Are Not Alone

Chapter 3: We Are not Alone

Diplomacy was boring.

Oh, it was necessary, but it was still boring. To be more specific, being in a place Luna wasn’t needed was boring.

Princess Luna was returning home from a week-long trip to the Mild West. Officially, she was sent as a vote of confidence for intercultural relations, at the insistence of her sister of course. Communication between the buffalo tribes had been rather cold until Twilight and her friends visited one of Applejack’s relatives. Ever since, relations had become significantly warmer between the two cultures. Their efforts had grown potent fruit; a rather lucrative trade had developed between the buffalo tribes and the frontier towns. The tribes acquired a large desire for apples and their products and, in return, traded spices, ceramics, and assisted struggling towns by teaching them agricultural techniques to help crops survive the arid environment.

What irritated Luna was that her duties could have been achieved by any other politician in the kingdom. ‘Your job is to make things go smoothly,’ Luna thought to herself in her impression of her sister’s voice. ‘Well, of course it is!’ Literally anyone could have overseen the meeting. Her job entailed nothing but renewing treaties, offers of assistance if the tribes were ever in need, and the possibility of opening up permanent trade negotiations.

“All of which anypony in the royal court could do,” Luna grumbled out loud.

One of the Night Guard’s pulling her chariot turned his head. “What was that, Princess?”

Luna shook her head. “Nothing, carry on.” The guard nodded and continued his flight.

Sure, she had been sent to show that Equestria valued its neighbors, but that did nothing to soothe a week’s worth of nodding, assuring, approving, and boredom. But at least she had some time to enjoy the night.

Princess Luna raised the moon about ten minutes prior and had been basking in its light ever since. To feel the breeze in her mane high up in the night sky... it was something she couldn’t enjoy often enough for her comfort, especially since she had been penned in by diplomats and scrapping underlings for the past week. The broiling days and the bone-chillingly nights didn’t help, either.

The rest of the entourage, diplomats included, were riding in separate chariots pulled by the Night Guards. Her two escorts had pulled away from the pack while Captain Night Hawk and his soldiers scouted ahead. While the patrol was for safety reasons, ordering the distance was for Luna’s own benefit, giving just a few minutes to let her enjoy the night air. She gave a sigh of contentment and her two ushers smiled; they knew her too well. Despite her fall from grace over a thousand years ago, the descendants of her guards remained ever-faithful. She’d have to thank the Captain later for allowing her the brief respite.

Speaking of, Captain Hawk had returned from his patrol. The grizzled veteran’s mane was already bright silver with age, but he refused to retire unless Princess Luna herself gave him that order; he made it clear he would continue to do so until she did or he was no longer physically capable to perform his duties. When asked why he would remain, he replied that military life was all he had ever known and he was content with where fate had put him. He had a very distinguished record even before her defeat as Nightmare Moon and, as soon as she was settled into Canterlot life, requested a transfer to her personal guard. She asked him why, when they first met, and he replied that he was always told stories as a foal about how his ancestors exclaimed what an honor it was to serve at her side. Luna couldn’t help but get choked up at that and had to stifle back tears and accepted him as the head of her personal guard.

For them to know what to say and do without her even saying a word, she valued the undying loyalty of her guards as much as the love of her sister.

He began his report, “Route might be a little difficult,” the Captain growled. He always sounded like his throat was full of sandpaper. “Although the pass is clear, there are storm clouds cluttering the western mountains.” A quick sniff of the air confirmed his report. The scheduled route was to fly through the mountain pass near Manehattan and proceed north by northeast after 20 miles of flight. But if there were bloated rain clouds on the left side of the pass, a vicious storm could be upon them as fast as a cockatrice.

“Make the appropriate course correction and alert the rest of the convoy, Captain.”

Captain Hawk nodded. “As you wish, Princess.” He banked left to warn his company.

The next step of the journey was uneventful. They entered the pass and could immediately tell that the course correction was a wise move. Black, billowing clouds hugged the western mountains like an unsightly blemish. The weather ponies that organized that storm were in for some lengthy weather indeed, maybe even a little too much. But she trusted her Captain and his judgment implicitly.

BOOOOOOOOOMM!!!!

Princess Luna’s entourage and the rest of the convoy were all thrown for a loop as a sonic boom cracked through the air like a whip. Several Night Guards and the other pegasi pulling the chariots dropped several meters, stunned momentarily by the earth-shattering blast. Luna’s head darted around, trying desperately to locate the source of the disturbance.

“A thunderclap?” one of her escorts questioned. She believed his name was Featherfoot, if she remembered the roll call correctly.

“No,” came the gruff voice of her Captain. “Don’t smell ozone and the air’s not warm enough. It’s something else.”

Luna thought fast. Her first instinct was to find the source of the disturbance, but she still needed to ensure the safety of the diplomats. “Captain.” Captain Hawk straightened to attention as best as he could while still hovering in the air. “Send a detachment to escort our remaining diplomats to Canterlot. Thou are to assemble thy finest to accompany myself to the source of this ruckus.”

Captain Hawk nodded and began barking orders. “Lieutenant! Take your platoon and squads one through four and escort the rest of the convoy back to Canterlot on the double. Keep a sharp eye out, high and low.” The other half of the company gathered around the Captain. “The rest of you, we will be providing escort for her Royal Highness, Princess Luna. I want no mistakes! If anything goes wrong, I will have your hide at the foot of my hearth by dawn!”

“Yes, Captain!” they all exclaimed in unison and, in ordered bedlam, began to form ranks.

Captain Hawk began shouting more orders, but Luna ignored his words and began her work. The first order of business was to locate the source of the sonic boom. The most likely cause was Twilight’s friend Rainbow Dash; they were in the rural towns near Ponyville after all. On the other hoof, Luna did not see the accompanying rainbow trail, so there was cause for doubt. Luna gathered her thoughts and focused her mind on performing a weak pulse. It was a simple spell, but required plenty of magic in order to sustain the spell for its intended purpose. The spell projected an omnidirectional wave of magic that reacts with the ambient magic in the air. Since the pulse was weak, it would bounce off stronger sources of magic and return to Luna; the stronger the opposing magic, the weaker and more distorted the pulse became as it returned.

Luna’s horn shone with an unearthly light. The Night Guards watched their charge perform; it was a rare treat to see Princess Luna cast a spell. The light vanished as it was seemingly absorbed into her horn. A split second afterwards, a silver and blue pulse ejected itself from her horn in a bubble and shot forth in all directions. The bubble harmlessly slid across the forms of the Night Guards and the frightened diplomats cowering in their chariots without even a gentle caress as it passed.

However, Luna would not need her spell had she waited but another minute to cast it. From the northeast, a blinding flash of light lit the ground and sky as far as she could see. Guards and diplomats alike cried out in pain as the fantastic light seared their corneas and ruined their night vision. Several Night Guards began to tumble out of the sky. Those who luckily had their eyes averted from the flash dove down to rescue their comrades as they spiraled to their doom. Other Night Guards, blinking back the spots, retracted their wings and sped to their aid like a bullet despite the pain and partial blindness; Captain Hawk was always strict in his training and prepared them to deal with the unexpected.

“Lieutenant, get them there now!”

Like a well-oiled machine, Captain Hawk’s Lieutenant had gathered his platoon and herded the convoy into a single row with guards stationed on the left and right of each chariot. Within moments, the convoy was off into the night, worried Night Guards by its side.

As they moved out of earshot, Luna’s detection spell returned to her in force. Her spell returned a sign of small tremors, but ambient magic in the air could cause that easily enough. The northeast, however, had an entire section of the spell missing, leaving only a large, jagged hole. Luna might have simpered if she wasn’t so worried. Anything that made that large of a magic sinkhole was worth investigating herself.

The flight to Ponyville was uneventful, but tense. All of her guards, Captain Hawk included, never said a word on their flight. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. It was understandable; no one had expected the bang and the flash to happen in the slightest, let alone had any idea what it was. If her pulse was any indication, there was something in Ponyville, and something large.

Princess Luna wished she had a Night Guard gifted in Farsight in order to work reconnaissance; such intel would be quite useful on approach. Even if she did have that information, she wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself.

“Starswirl’s Beard...” Captain Hawk quietly exclaimed.

Two miles out, they saw across a massive black object hovering in the sky over Ponyville and beyond. Save for Captain Hawk’s surprised comment, no pony made a sound on their approach. Captain Hawk and company were wide-eyed, all dutifully searching the ground and sky with equal scrutiny, though all eyes eventually returned to the black shape. When they reached Ponyville airspace, Luna examined the object, soon identifiable as some sort of doorway, more closely.

She couldn’t help but be in awe as she laid her eyes on the empty gateway in the sky. While it was a solid black in color, the portal was large enough to encompass all of Ponyville and beyond. Oddly enough, she could not see any means for the gateway to remain suspended like it was, magic or otherwise. It was simply... there.

Captain Hawk nodded at one of his men and the soldier ventured a little closer to the gateway, tapping it with a hoof and backing off. Nothing happened, and the Captain nodded again. This time, the Night Guard hovered above the black stone border and gingerly set himself down.

Nothing happened. Everyone, Princess Luna included, sighed in relief.

“All clear Captain. I don’t know what this stuff is, but it is holding.”

“Noble Guard, extract thyself; we do not wish to tempt fate any longer,” Luna commanded and the Night Guard eagerly vacated the portal.

“Captain, we desire to investigate the town itself,” Luna ordered. The Night Guard made the descent and everyone began to observe their surroundings. Ponyville was standing, but in need of some repair. The ground was littered with shattered windows, knocked over carts, and pieces of thatch from roofs.

“Night Guard, fan out. Delta Team, stay here with myself and the Princess, the rest of you, I want a search of the town for any casualties and some eyes in the sky. Aerial team, do some recon and report to those below on what they see.”

“Yes, Captain!” the Night Guards exclaimed. The Night Guards weaved every which way. Captain Hawk and a team of nine Night Guards flanked Princess Luna, eyes alert for any sign of danger.

“What caused all of this? That portal in the sky or--" a stallion started to say but Captain Hawk cut him off.

“Mouth shut, eyes open, Private Frost.” And Frost silenced himself.

Princess Luna decided on entering the nearest house, a spartan residence with a sign outside depicting three carrots. She wanted answers, wanted a better depiction of recent events. She could hear movement on the inside and some low groaning, so she knew the residence was occupied. She raised a hoof to open the door, but Private Frost spoke again.

“Captain, Princess, I... I found something.”

Private Frost and his wingpony were investigating the back for any sign of danger. They were in a garden, having just walked into the tilled ground due to the damaged fence surrounding it. Princess Luna and Captain Hawk left the door and ventured out back to the Private. Once there, they saw the reason for his call. Lying under the limb of a fallen oak branch was a single steel sword.

“Private Cumulus,” Captain Hawk ordered, “secure that weapon.”

A pegasus behind Princess Luna pulled out a folded cloth from his saddlebags and approached the sword. Private Frost nudged the branch aside, giving Cumulus the room he needed to wrap the cloth around the blade and store it in his own saddlebags. The sword was long enough that the wooden hilt and pommel stuck out of his bags.

“First Lieutenant, do your thing,” Captain Hawk ordered and a female Guard stepped forward, one which Luna recognized well. Lightning Chaser had a reputation among the Night Guards for her eccentricities. There was no skill too insignificant or disgusting for her to learn and she would utilize hours, day, or even months practicing them if needed. She spent her off hours learning tricks, such as absurd aerial maneuvers or martial arts, but then her desires started approaching the bizarre. She would smell the ashes of different woods so she could recognize them later, studied plants and their growing habits so she could place where they grew naturally, learn the different types of mud and the particulates inside, put herself in a freezer wrapped in wet towels to see how long she could endure the elements, learned metallurgy to understand the differences between metals and where they were forged, and practiced foreign languages in case she would need them. She was somewhat introverted and antisocial, but had become a fine soldier and one of Captain Hawk’s most valued members. The other Night Guards respected her greatly, mostly because they didn’t know if she was an undiscovered genius or just insane.

Lightning started sniffing the garden, rooting around branches and dirt. Princess Luna waited patiently, but eagerly, for what the Private would learn.

Lightning placed a hoof around a flattened patch of dirt next to an onion patch. The ground was indented slightly. “Someone was here alright... they were lying down.” She brought her snout down and tasted the dirt before spitting it out. “Not sure why just yet.” She saw some dirt piled at the bottom of the indentation and several long scraps on its left and right. “They were stunned or tired; their trail indicating the interloper couldn’t control their limbs just yet.” The bottom scrape was smooth and had hard, defined edges, “They were wearing boots, most likely metal.” She gave another sniff of the dirt and sneezed. “They’re a filthy one too; hasn’t showered in quite some time. Will be easier to find a scent but...” She gave the ground another sniff. “The scent...”

“First Lieutenant?” Luna questioned as she trailed off.

Lightning shook her head, confused. “The scent is... wrong. I can’t quite place it. He or she smells dirty and tired, but... it’s so different than how a pony should smell, or anything I’ve smelt for that matter.” Lightning shook her head irritably. “Everything points to a tired, smelly pony, but the scent is different somehow. This might not be a pony after all.”

Lightning started sniffing the dirt some more. The marks in the dirt were erratic and oddly placed, but at least in a relatively straight line. Once she spoke next, her speech was in the first person as if she were the interloper. Her voice changed as well; it was breathy and strained with fatigue. “I’m tired... so very tired right now. I can’t walk right and my vision’s degraded; I can’t see well,” She sniffed another indent on the ground. “I fell here.” She put a foot over the patch of dirt and then another a few feet away. “And here. But I see light ahead. Light is good... Light is safety...”

The group started to follow Lightning in a ring around Princess Luna, each and every one listening carefully to the odd Night Guard’s words. They had left the garden and were now on the cobblestone pathway leading into town. Several ponies were starting to leave their houses and investigate the damages, but with a stern look from Captain Hawk and a few words from Princess Luna, they were compelled to stay inside; it was official business of the crown now.

“I began to lean against fences and buildings,” Lightning narrated as she saw a small streak of sweat staining the dark wood of a café. Her nose led her to a particularly gnarled and old fence post with a tiny shred of green cloth trapped in a splinter. She opened her mouth to speak, but a bloodcurdling shriek pierced the night air.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”

Everyone’s head shot up at the noise and, despite the warning, ponies exited their houses and searched for the source of the cry.

“North by northwest,” Lightning aid and the group took off, wings ready and minds set for combat. The circle tightened around Princess Luna, each and every one ready to do battle while Lightning led the way to the scream.

The source of the scream came from a bakery full of the scent of vanilla, caramel, and sugar. There were two mares just outside the door. The first was a pale cream color with a navy-blue mane and a pink highlight. She was sobbing and babbling incoherently to the mare in her hooves, a mint-green unicorn whom appeared to be in an extreme daze.

Luna raced over the hysterical mare with her guards in tow. “Citizen, explain thyself.”

The mare looked up at the voice, eyes widening. “Princess....” Fresh tear flooded her eyes. “I don’t know what happened! Lyra was going to lock the door and I was putting everything away in the kitchen. The next thing I knew, I woke up on the floor and there was dust and flour everywhere and then I heard Lyra scream and I raced outside and--"

Captain Hawk put a hoof on the hyperventilating mare's shoulder. "Easy Miss; just breathe. Take a moment and gain control of yourself. What's your name?"

"B-b-Bon Bon."

"Alright Bon Bon, you've been through enough so far; let's take a look at your friend here." But the victim, Lyra, was already starting to move. Her movements were sluggish and jerky, as if whatever was done to her robbed her of her ability to adequately control her limbs.

It was at this moment that Luna was graced by two more surprises: a lavender unicorn galloping to the bakery, and a pair of Night Guards kicking up a cloud of dust with their wings as they landed.

Twilight scanned the scene quickly and, upon seeing the Princess, gave a respectful bow. "I heard a scream..." And she moved past the Night Guards to scan Lyra with her horn to diagnose her condition. The other Guards were familiar with Twilight, by reputation if anything, and let her pass.

The two Night Guards began conversing with Captain Hawk, "Captain, bogie heading west to the forest by hoof. Target's not a pony; running on two legs."

"You're not a pony..." Lyra mumbled lazily. That brought a new stream of tears to Bon Bon’s eyes, but a comforting hoof by Twilight helped stem the flow.

“It’ll be alright, Bon Bon. Her vitals are fine.” She turned to the group of armored Night Guards. “Can one of you help me take her to the hospital?”

Captain Hawk nodded at one of his soldiers. “You,” he said gruffly, “take her there.”

Luna added to the order, “Stay with Twilight; we will need her assistance later.”

The Night Guard nodded and, with a little help from Twilight and Bon Bon, managed to support the dazed Lyra on his back. Twilight’s horn flashed to life and illuminated the street with a narrow beam of light. She started a gallop, leading the Guard to Ponyville Residential Hospital Luna had once seen during her own visit during Nightmare Night.

Captain Hawk put a hoof to his mouth and whistled. After two screeching pulses, the rest of the ground and aerial unit gathered at the bakery. His eyes were focused, posture straight, and his mind was set; Luna admired the Captain for falling into his element so quickly. Her Guards were ready and waiting patiently for orders. It was time to do her duty.

“Who among you is the swiftest flyer?”

Private Frost spoke up, “Me Princess; fastest in my unit.”

Luna nodded and Frost stepped forward. “Return to Canterlot with all haste and speak with our sister on what we have discovered here. Request reinforcements and Canterlot’s most enlightened whence a perimeter is secure.”

“I shall not rest until you message is delivered, your Highness.” Frost’s wingpony walked to his flank and started tearing into Frost’s armor.

“Armor off, Frost,” he commanded and Frost nodded in agreement; he’d need as little weight as possible in order to make the trip.

“Night Guards, to me!” Luna spread her wings and took off into the night air.

She’d had quite enough of tonight already. With the presence of a door in the sky, an attack on her subjects, and fleeing the scene of an attack, all compounded with her dull time in the Mild West, Luna’s frustration and anger were reaching critical mass. She’d had enough of stumbling around with all of these unanswered questions while an intruder strutted about doing whatever he or she pleased! Once she caught up to the intruder, there would be a reckoning!

She quickly outpaced her Guards, something she knew she shouldn’t do, but she wanted answers and she wanted them now. Captain Hawk knew better than to protest the breach in protocol, but that didn’t stop him from struggling to keep up with the Princess as she raced to the forest’s edge and to the interloper’s retreating form. Truth be told, Princess Luna was a fairly swift flyer. Not as fast as Rainbow Dash or the Wonderbolts, but her own stores of magic and internal drive to do better made for a short flight.

She saw the interloper running with all its strength, but not fast enough to outrun her. She landed right behind the creature and pumped her wings for all they were worth. The gust they created lifted the creature off of its feet and right into a tree. Luna was glaring daggers as the creature righted itself, and she saw it clearly for the first time under the light of her moon.

Such a creature... it was unlike any the Princess of Shadows had ever seen before. It was similar in stature and build to the ape tribes native to Zebrica, but this one was bipedal and only had hair on the top of its head. It was wearing a green shirt and blue pants and was staring directly at the Princess. It had an odd face, one devoid of a snout and less defined bones framing the jaw. While it had blue eyes, that was where the similarities between it and ponies ended. Neither moved and neither spoke, each one unwilling to break the silence that stretched between the pair. The creature's posture was tense, one ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

But something kept it there and that something made the Princess hesitate for a moment. She had expected to find a violent and vengeful beast of the forest that needed to remember its place, but in this creature's eyes was something... lost. It was not a primal fear of being captured for its considerable crimes, but a greater fear, a fear of something more. Slowly, very slowly, the creature got to its feet.

"State thy business," Luna ordered and the creature jumped back from shock, clearing not expecting Luna to break the silence so abruptly. But the creature's scared expression dropped into one of complete incredulity. What was wrong with this creature? Was a simple order, nay, speech, so foreign that it did not understand?

The creature took a half step back, not in an effort to run, but to keep distance between the two. Luna did not believe there were and records pertaining to bipedal creatures like the one in front of her. Because of that, she couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you? What are you?” The creature jumped again, but not so much. It stared back, blue eyes meeting blue, alien meeting an alicorn. The creature took a half step forward that time. The creature’s pain and fear melted off of its face and took on something resembling intrigue, even hope. It extended a limb slowly, five digits flexing on the end of a heavily muscled arm. It was not appear to be a threat or attack, but a means of breaching the gap between species. Luna extended a hoof too, ready to meet the creature. Her gut told her that there was something wrong about her knee-jerk response to the creature, that there was more going on. Despite her attacking it, she believed that they both felt there was more going on than either understood.

“Princess! Step away!” Captain Hawk and the Delta Team made their descent while others hovered in place, awaiting orders.

“Captain—!“

But the damage had been done: the creature panicked, and then did something she did not believe was possible. From within the creature's chest came a grey, viscous fluid or energy. It was fast as a cobra and weaved down its arm and into its right palm. Once there, the energy folded in on itself and hardened into a small device Luna made out to be flint and--

"Get down, Princess!" Captain Hawk shouted, but it was too late. The creature pointed the device at the ground between the two and the dry grass burst into yellow flames. Using her magic, Luna quickly snuffed out the flames before they could spread to the rest of the dry underbrush. But the fire was only a distraction.

As the fire died, another ribbon of energy, this one greenish in color, snaked its way down the creature's arm and replaced the flint and steel. As it hardened to its natural state, Luna saw that it was a bright, deep turquoise pearl. The creature turned and pitched the pearl with all its might. Up, up and away it soared through the night and was lost. Luna's eyes boggled at the distance; that throw had to cover a quarter mile!

She snapped herself back into focus, placing a firm step forward. "Night Guards, detain this creature!" Five separate Night Guards stepped forward to do just that, but just as they did so, the creature turned back to the group...

And vanished without a sound.

Captain Hawk whirled around in place, searching in circles like a pup chasing his tail. “Find it! And find whatever it threw!”

Luna cursed internally; she was so close to getting some sort of response out of the creature before her Guard’s arrival. But she could not try again so soon; time was against her and between hunting a creature in the darkness of the Everfree Forest and caring for her subjects, she would choose the later. There was still too much to do in Ponyville. There were nerves to settle, research to do, and questions to answer. There was far too much to do; the Night Guard would have to take care of the creature.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
For those curious, I use hlissner's Equestria map.
Edited by: Deathscar, Retsamoreh, Ebony Eilis, Viktor Lionheart

Chapter 4: Everfree Rumble

Chapter 4: Everfree Rumble

First Lieutenant Lightning Chaser and her wingpony were the first to take off into the night. She, her wingpony, and two squads were searching for the creature’s thrown object, but searching for a hoof-sized object in the dense forest and underbrush was the least of everypony’s worries; the Everfree Forest was a dangerous place in its own right.

Lightning was in command of the platoon and was using her tracking skills to locate the thrown object. She and her wingpony were searching under the canopy. Neither had any luck detecting neither hide nor hair of the creature. In this instance, searching in concentric circles had the best chance of producing results, so after every pass, she and half her platoon would cover half a circle while the rest would cover the other half until--

“Hello!” she exclaimed.

Lightning's nose had picked up the creature’s unwashed scent on one of her passes of the forest floor. They were in a vale enclosed by several tall weeping willows, likely hundreds of years old, their ancient, gnarled bark encasing them like armor and covered in fine coat of lichen. The long-untrodden ground was hidden under a layer of moss, ferns and other smaller plants. It was under the dark canvas of branches, limbs long shielding the ground from the light of the sun and moon, where the first lieutenant found a disturbed patch of moss... and a few droplets of blood.

“Blood...?” She asked herself. She gave it another sniff, the scent of iron confirming her suspicion and the creature’s scent. When Princess Luna had previously raced to the creature, Lightning had raced to her side like the rest of the Night Guards. But when she got there, she noticed the creature did not have any noticeable wounds. So if it was wounded now, how did it get wounded so quickly? A monster from the forest perhaps? Or was it possibly something else entirely?

Lightning was scheduled to meet up with the rest of her half of the group, but she wanted to follow the creature’s trail.

However, other priorities were on her wingpony’s mind. “First Lieutenant? Did you find something?” He asked, before he then saw the blood spatter and said, “I’ll alert the rest of the platoon.”

He unfurled his wings, but she stopped him, saying, “Stand down; I don’t want to spook it,” and continued to sniff out the trail. It wasn’t hurt too bad, but the creature’s own scent and the blood trail made its path easy to follow for the experienced tracker. She couldn’t have asked for better ground, too; the moss was thick enough to dampen the sound of her hooves and the ragweed and thistles were tall enough to hide her from a distance.

“But we need backup and—“

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” she chided in a whisper. The longer she talked, the colder the trail would become. But even if it was growing colder, that didn’t mean it wasn’t nearby. Keeping a low voice would be a wise precaution in such a circumstance. “If the entire Guard swarms it at once, it will teleport away again; that’s what I would do. I need to catch it by surprise and I can’t do that with so many ponies swarming about and you talking so loud. Now shut up and follow me. That’s an order.”

Lightning didn’t even bother to check and see if her wingpony obeyed. She didn’t have time for his pouting and prattling; she had a job to do. She put her nose to the ground and began sniffing a trail. The scent was about 15 minutes old, so she wasn’t too far out. Since it wasn’t a creature native to the forest, chances were good it didn’t know the forests as well as the Guard.

She began creeping through the moss and underbrush as she followed the creature’s trail as stealthily as possible. Every step was carefully measured to avoid any stray twigs or dense patches of mud. The moss muffled sound well, but her fears were the lichen-covered stones lodged in the more muddy paths and the shallow streams. The valley lands were as dry as a bone due to the lack of rain, but the Everfree Forest had underwater aquifers in plentiful supply and rivers stemming from the melted ice from the mountains. Both watered the deep roots of the forest and, in turn, kept the lichens moist. Dry lichens had the texture of carpet, but engorged with water as they were, the lichens could turn slick.

Her wingpony had stopped making a fuss and quietly followed her lead, which was good; she’d need him if she ever caught up to the creature. The blood trail stemmed after five minutes of tracking, but by then, the trail was fresh enough to follow without it. Patches of bark were scraped away from tree trunks with the creature’s accidental stumbles and the moss was bloated with enough water to show the imprints of its steps through the brush. She began to hear a constant, steady, dull roar ahead.

Lightning could recognize the sound of a waterfall anywhere, having grown up in the north near Neighgra Falls. Her parents used to take her there whenever she passed a semester with straight A’s. Which was always. Snapping out of her brief revelry, she smiled even more so; running water would hide the sound of her approach even more.

As soon as she heard the water, the tracks changed as well. The pace became slower, more controlled; it was as if the creature had been distracted by the forest and its unfamiliar surroundings. That made sense to the soldier; she suspected it wasn’t native to the Everfree Forest and the tracks weren’t consistent with the backtracking and erratic trails of prey fleeing from a determined hunter. That alone was odd; did it not believe it could be followed so easily?

The source of the thunderous noise began to increase in volume and was matched by the creature’s slower pace. Lightning began climbing a hill just short of the hill’s apex, her frustrated wingpony at her heels. Halfway up the embankment, she lay on her stomach and inched her way up the hill. The sound of water along with the layers of moss covered her movements, so all she needed to do was take a careful peek once she reached the top of the hill.

Fifty yards ahead was the source of the thunderous noise: a large waterfall from a raised clifftop that was divided by a large boulder. The first path drained into a cave complex to her right and vanished into the darkness below. The second split to the left and turned into a river that snaked through the massive trees, disappearing into the forest.

Thirty yards in front of her, near the forest river’s edge, the ground was littered with stones thrust onto shore and weathered smooth by the rough currents. The creature stood on the edge of the river bank with its back to the pair. It was staring up at the crest of the waterfall, unmoving. She smiled; she couldn’t have asked for more.

Lightning ducked back below the hill and thought through her options. She had line of sight. The waterfall would cover the noise of her approach from the creature and, thankfully, the monsters of the forest, but at the cost of her fellow soldiers deaf to any coming struggle. It was facing away from her and didn’t know it was being tracked, so she had the element of surprise. She could sneak along the stones and ambush the creature, but the stones were wet and devoid of any traction, so the path to the creature would be treacherous. On the other hand, she could fly and dive bomb the creature, but if she attacked from behind, chances were high she would be knocked into the rapids, along with the creature, if she made a miscalculation. She could try approaching from the front, but that would give away her position; with the creature’s powers still unknown, surprise was her greatest weapon. As detestable as it was, that left only one course of action.

Lightning grabbed her wingpony by his ears and pulled him face-to-face. He made a cry of protest, but she put a hoof to his mouth to shut him up. The waterfall would cover any exclamation, but she didn’t want any fuss right now. Captain Hawk said she needed to learn how to deal with ponies, but she never had any time for that.

“Listen, I’m going to sneak up on that thing and try to take it down as fast as possible; you just sit back. If I can’t, you are going fly off and alert everypony you can as fast as you can.” She removed her hoof and he opened his mouth, only for her to replace it again. “Yes, that’s an order.” And she removed it again.

Her wingpony opened his mouth to speak, but seemed at a loss for words. His will to argue broke, and he gave an exasperated sigh, shaking his head in a defeated gesture. “Okay, Lieutenant.”

“Good, now sit back and watch my flank. If that’s all you watch, we’re going to have words if I’m still alive after this.” She climbed the rest of the hill and readied herself to take the first steps across the riverbank.

She tightened her wings to her sides. The creature was still staring up at the waterfall without any signs of movement. She got as low as she could to make the smallest possible target in case the creature somehow noticed her and started swinging; there was no harm in being extra careful.

It was time to make the first step. She put a hoof up and set it down on the first stone, which twitched with a soft ‘clink’ that was swallowed by the waterfall. She sighed in relief.

She could do this, just as long as it kept on staring at the waterfall.

She balanced her weight on the stone, doing her best not to slip, and put another hoof down. Not even a twitch that time. Every step felt like an eternity, for every step brought her closer and closer to the creature and, thus, made it easier for a misstep to be audible to its ears. She viewed her trek as a careful dance of balancing weight and snaking her way forward for the best vantage point for an ambush. The stones were indeed slick with moisture, and several times she came close to losing her balance. It was a carefully weighted game: go too slow and the creature might make a move, go too fast and she would give away her position with noise. She had to set her pace carefully and pray to Luna that the creature kept its attention on the waterfall.

She was halfway across before she started to aim toward the creature’s left flank. The fire starter and the orb it used had both come from its right hand and, judging from the calluses she could then see on its right limb but not its left, it was right-hoofed, if it could be called a hoof. She recalled some tribes in Zebrica had similar digits on the end of their legs, but she didn’t know anything beyond that. Gryphons had fingers, but they were in no way similar to the beast in front of her.

She was getting so close to the creature now, just another five yards and she could attack. Just a little more. A little more. Four yards... three yards... two... one...

Lightning Chaser pounced on the creature’s side and rammed her helmed head into its own. The creature stumbled back, but Lightning held on tight. The pair tumbled around on the wet stones, coming precariously close to falling into the rapids. As they came to a stop, the creature aimed a wild punch in the direction of her head. She dodged the attack with ease and detached herself from the creature, wanting to have a little distance.

The creature regained its own footing with what Lightning interpreted as shock on its face before turning to a scowl. An amorphous blob of brown shot out of its chest and down its arm, solidifying into a large stick. But before the creature could make another move, Lightning had started galloping full speed across the stones, using her wings to gain enough lift to not slip. The makeshift staff whistled through the air as the creature swung with all its might. Lightning hunched down, kicking up stones as she slid underneath the swing aimed at her head. She kicked a hoof out at the last moment, bringing the creature to its knees with a strike to where she guessed its kidney would be.

Lightning whirled around and reared up on her hind legs to stomp down on its back, hoping to knock the air from its lungs and stun it long enough for help to arrive. But because her wings were still outstretched from her flight across the stones, she did not see the creature’s blind backward swing of its stick. The hard thump to her wing knocked her off balance and she stomped on the rocks instead.

The creature, having heard the stones shifting to its left, turned its head to her and thrust an elbow into Lightning’s ribcage with an arm built with enough muscle to make it look like a steel cable. Her armor took most of the sting out of the blow, but it was still hard enough for her to stumble back and slip onto her rear. She’d certainly have a bruise in the morning. Why was this creature so strong? Did it break rocks for a living?

It rose to its legs slightly faster than her that time. On the way to its feet, the stick reverted to its amorphous fluidic state and sunk back into the creature’ body before being replaced by an identical ribbon of silver. Recognizing the formation of the flint and steel, Lightning immediately took to the air as the end of her tail was singed. She rose higher and higher, not quite reaching the canopy, and took another glance below. What surprised her was that the creature seemed to not see her.

It was looking around in circles wildly before searching the skies fruitlessly. Lightning smiled and thought, ‘Too bad you don’t have dark vision like the Night Guard do.’

But it would be a bad idea to attack so soon without further investigation on the matter; the creature could easily be faking dark blindness just to lure her into a disadvantageous attack. She circled the creature a few times, trying to collect her thoughts before she made any decision. The creature, meanwhile, did not like her waiting, for she saw it conjure up a smoking torch and thrust it into the stones to provide light. She chuckled and thought, ‘Idiot, not only will that destroy your night vision, it makes the job of finding you even easier.’

She glided low to the ground and brushed her hoof against the stones. The stones scattered in all directions, but the noise was foreign and loud enough for the creature’s head to dart around frantically. ‘Okay, that’s twenty yards... now for eighteen...’

The First Lieutenant waited another minute before flying low and brushing her hoof against the stones once more. The creature’s head whirled around to identify the clatter, but saw her offending form and conjured up a bow and arrow to shoot her down. It pulled back the string and the twang of the arrow was lost in the noise of rushing water. She put on a burst of speed and rose above the arrow, the fletching tickling the air as it whizzed by and embedded itself in a tree. She kept her trajectory until she performed a 180 degree turn, where she executed a half roll to regain an upright orientation.

Lightning examined her battlefield again: the creature hunched itself over with another arrow at the ready. So, it could see at least eighteen yards in the moonlight. If she could get it deeper in the forest, she’d have the advantage of being able to see in the dark, but at the cost of room to maneuver. It would be worth the price to make that happen.

Lightning skimmed low to the ground, picking up a few decent sized stones before rising up on the damp air of the rapids. The creature heard the stones, aimed its bow in the direction of the noise, and let loose an arrow before conjuring another. ‘Twitchy creature, aren’t you?’ She thought to herself.

Out of the creature’s apparent line of sight, Lightning performed a bombing run, dropping her payload over the creature. The creature, now paying attention to the air as equally to the ground, did see the missiles coming and performed an evasive dive and roll. The last stone was off of its original target, so it was still in the creature’s path. Lightning couldn’t help but admire the creature’s improvisational thinking so far, especially since the last stone was small enough for the creature to knock the arrow, aim, and shoot it out of the sky.

The creature’s bow vanished and was promptly replaced by a green stone with a faint glow. She started to panic. It was the same type of stone as before; it was planning on escaping the fight.

“Oh, no you don’t!” she exclaimed. The creature turned its head slightly, having heard the noise, but focused on throwing the orb. Lightning put on as much speed as she could muster, folding her wings back to her abdomen to reduce drag. She tore off her saddlebags midflight; she needed every microsecond she could to catch him in time. Its arm was cocked back, aimed and ready to fire at some unknown point in the forest.

It would be close. The air stung her eyes as she shot toward the creature like a bullet. Even the best case would have her only just making it. Time seemed to slow down for the First Lieutenant. She could feel the wind rushing past her streamlined body and around every curve of her armor. She tasted the moisture thick in the air. The creature’s limb seemed to slow as her body thrust spurts of adrenaline into her system.

Lightning crashed into the creature just as it reached the crest of the throw. The throw was redirected low and wide as the pair rolled across the stones. She extracted herself quickly from the creature, letting go and rolling onto her side before standing, The action made her wince as pain shot up her ankle, but she did her best to ignore it. The creature also got up and glared at Lightning.

And suddenly vanished. Lightning eyes darted to where she estimated the sphere had gone. The iridescent stone had shattered against a tree into...purple particles? Strange...

With a pop, the creature reappeared next to the stone’s shattered remains.

CRACK!

Lightning winced as the bone in the creature’s leg snapped and it fell to its knees in pain. It was gasping for breath, now with a sheen of sweat across its brow. Lightning furrowed her brow in thought as she gained lift and flew at the creature. Did using that stone incur injury then? Why use it? Unicorns, with enough practice, could teleport at will over short distances. That would suggest that this creature couldn’t use magic, but that didn’t explain its odd powers. But it would make sense as to why she found blood in the forest when there had previously been no wounds on the creature. It was a necessary last resort then?

Whatever the reason to use such an artifact, she did not know it. The creature was still blinking back the pain of a broken bone before Lightning was on top of it. She stretched her wings out, pinning both of its limbs to an oak tree of considerable girth. Keeping up her momentum, she thrust a booted hoof into its gut. The creature exhaled in pain. Now that its head was closer, she took the opportunity and headbutted it again with her armored noggin. Its eyes crossed with pain, but the creature was quicker to recover that time.

It conjured up a torch and dropped it, attempting to frighten Lightning into loosening her grip. The embers hissed as they brushed against her wing before bouncing off and hitting the ground. Lightning gritted her teeth in pain and tried to hold its arms in place, but the creature’s strength proved too much to bear. It thrust her off with a quick shove and advanced. Lightning retreated a few steps, trying to stay out of reach. It was quite obvious to her that she would lose a direct fight with the creature, so she needed another strategy.

Another few blows to the head should suffice.

Lightning entered the fray once more, dodging a right haymaker and countering with a right hook to its stomach. She twisted her weight around, her tail colliding with its wounded right leg and bringing it to its knees. She reared up on her forelegs to deliver a buck into unconsciousness, but her hooves collided with something hard and immensely sturdy, throwing her off balance and onto her haunches. She stood up, shaking off the tremors moving up her legs, took to the air once more, and turned. What she saw made her jaw drop.

She had bucked a solid cobblestone wall separating it from her. It was small, about 1 meter wide and 2 meters tall, but the sheer speed with which the creature conjured it amazed her. So far, it had only summoned smaller objects, but right in front of her lay about 400 pounds of stone.

“How did you do that?!”

As soon as she spoke, the grasses where her wingpony sat fluttered as he took flight into the night sky. Apparently, he had grown tired of waiting for her to defeat the creature. As if the thought summoned it, the creature stepped around the cobblestone wall, a pickaxe in the right hoof and an empty flask in the other.

Red liquid stained its lips. That made the her nervous; she had only just started reading up on alchemy and what she read she did not like. The plus side was alchemy was always temporary. The bad side was you never knew how a potion would affect somepony unless properly identified. And the creature had already drank the concoction, with it quite possibly being completely unheard of due to its own alien nature. Whatever the contents, it was just another problem to add to the mix.

The creature dropped the flask and threw another haymaker, more for the purpose of intimidation than anything else. ‘Come to think of it...’ Lightning pondered.

Her mind went back to her hoof-to-hoof combat days. Her coach drilled it into his recruits that a haymaker punch should never be used unless they were absolutely sure it would hit. If a haymaker connected, it could be a devastating blow indeed, but it required a wide angle before connecting, giving ample time to block or counter the punch. The creature’s tactics so far, however strange its powers, were very simple. ‘A seasoned fighter, but predictable.’ She could use that to her advantage, but she needed to get him into the to the trees.

The creature dashed forward with surprising speed, especially considering the grave wound only just inflicted to its leg. It swung the pickaxe with all of its brutish strength, but the skilled soldier’s agility helped her dodge it with ease. Rocks flew in all directions as the sharp end hit the ground. It grunted, lifting the pickaxe from the ground for another swing. It took another step, but this time the slick rocks took their toll. The pickaxe slipped from its grasp and it stumbled to the side. Lightning took the chance and gave another headbutt to the abdomen. She felt something crack through her helm. She smiled to herself; at least she managed to deliver more than a superficial blow that time.

She started to back away, but the creature’s strong arms held her head in place. She felt something... shift on her helmet. The next moment, the creature’s vice grip was around her head and its digits in her auburn hair. She blinked, seeing her helmet shift into an amorphous silver blob and phase into the creature's body. It had absorbed her helmet.

The creature was smiling in victory and the pain of at least one broken rib. It fully understood her predicament.

“Oh, horseapples,” she said. And the creature gave her a headbutt of its own.

If its arms were steel cables, its head was a brick. Lightning saw stars and then blackness as her body went limp from the blow, stunned by pain and concussion-inducing blunt-force trauma. She felt her body drop to the wet stones. She knew she had to get up, that she needed to continue the fight, but her limbs refused to work properly. She floundered trying to get her brain to properly recognize one limb from another before seeing the creature pick up it pickaxe and make a move toward her. Pain or not, that got the blood flowing enough for her to stumble to her feet.

CRACK!

Lightning’s ears perked up at the sound of breaking glass. The ground between the pair erupted into flames and intense heat, reddening her unprotected skin.

“What!?” She shouted in alarm. She retreated backwards on foot, not trusting her bearings in the air just yet. The creature was equally surprised; it was shielding its face from the heat and retreating back, but not taking its eyes off her.

Then its eyes bulged, staring at something over her left shoulder. It slid a foot back in a defensive crouch, ready to bolt or attack once more.

It was a gamble: look at what it sees or focus on the creature. Her rational mind won out, reminding her that the creature hadn’t yet used any cheap tactics or deception. She decided to take a peek, but what was behind her spoke up first.

“I know not what you may be, but know now that you must flee,” the newcomer said in a deep, musical alto.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The voice was right behind her. How did she sneak up on her!? She moved to the side, gaining a distance from the newcomer this time, and examined her better.

Stepping out of the shadows was a single zebra, eyes hard and staring down the creature. Even now on the stones, her steps were quiet and calculated. Her nationality revealed, Lightning was not surprised the zebra got the drop on her. Hundreds of years ago, rival tribes attacked each other in the dead of night in order to maximize their element of surprise. To do so effectively, they learned how to silence their steps over any terrain and disguised their bodies to blend into their surroundings. Zebrica had long since united and stayed free of conflict, but those old traditions were not forgotten on this mare.

Lightning went down her mental list of Ponyville residents, only coming up with one match. “Zecora?”

Zecora nodded, not taking her eyes off the creature. Attached to her saddlebags were four glass flasks filled with a viscous gel with a single wick on one end and a length of rope on the other. To light the wick, she had a striker on each forehoof.

“Alchemic grenades,” Lightning commented and resumed her examination of the situation. The creature was returning Zecora’s glare second for second. Neither moved, neither gave ground. The light of the fire danced across their faces, highlighting the curves and creating shadows. Zecora was a stone, hard and unmoving; the creature could not stand up to that. It dropped its weapon slowly, watching her for sign of attack and Zecora for something known only to it. Was its gaze confused? Intrigued? Fascinated? She couldn’t tell.

And did it just growl? She thought she had misheard it over the roar of the waterfall, but Zecora’s ears perked up as well. With tiny, controlled movements, the creature started to move away from her and the zebra. Only then did the First Lieutenant notice the obvious: its leg wound was healed. Was that the potion’s effects? There were so many questions and none she could answer...

Once it gained enough distance from the two, it turned around and began running into the dark forest. Lightning tensed her muscles to intercept, but Zecora held out a hoof to stop her. “I say no; let him go. We must make our own way home.”

Zecora yanked at one of the ropes with her teeth. With a few clicks of the striker, she lit the wick and swung the rope behind her. The grenade burst into flames, its yellow light revealing the shapes of several large Timberwolves.

“The forest sleeps, the lost weep, no longer are we alone.” The wolves retreated back, scared of the fire that could so easily destroy them. As much as she hated it, Lightning let the creature go his way. Timberwolves were faster and far more deadly.

The Timberwolves snarled and growled at the pair past the yellow flames. The oil, while burning well, was cast on the wet stones and quickly dying. A pair of the creatures broke off from the pack and moved into a flanking position, avoiding the fire altogether. Lightning blinked back the fuzz in her head and steeled her nerves. This was going to get ugly.

Zecora had removed another grenade and lit the fuse, daring the pair to make a move. One of them had the nerve to snap at her heels, but Zecora jumped back, running her rump into Lightning. Lightning herself was keeping an eye on the bulk of the pack, a team of seven wolves with a large, lithe wolf with a scar across its eye as an alpha. It’s mouth was open, growling at the pegasus in hunger and fury. In just a few moments, the wolves would gain the courage to attack.

If it weren’t for the timely arrival of her wingpony that is.

A horde of Night Guards descended upon the riverbank, their collective wings blocking out the moonlight. Several Night Guards, seeing her predicament, flew to her aid. Finding themselves outnumbered, the Timberwolves retreated back into the forest, growling in protest the entire way. Lightning let out a relieved sigh before shouting orders to the ponies above.

“That way!” she pointed to where the creature’s form had vanished into the night only moments before. “Eyes above and below the canopy! I want none of you getting in close with it; do it and you’re a goner!” Two groups of Night Guards saluted and flew off into the dark. Lightning spread her wings, ready to join her allies. She rose into the air only a few feet before a sharp pain throbbed like a knife in the back of her skull and blacked out her vision, making her fall flat on her stomach back on the riverbank.

Zecora put a hoof on her back and rubbed up and down comfortingly, “Rest easy, knight. Let others fight.” Despite her desire to assist, she couldn’t help but agree with the zebra. She was especially certain she couldn’t go when Captain Hawk descended at the back of the pack, eyes full of anger and all of it directed at her. After kicking up mist and water upon landing, he walked across the wet stones, the fire having died to a dull flicker.

“I’m quite familiar with your cavalier attitude,” Captain Hawk chided in a cold voice. “but I still expected better than this. Attacking it on your own? No form of backup if anything goes wrong? What were you thinking!?”

Hawk sighed, closing his eyes to take a moment to gain his composure. He opened them, Lightning waiting patiently for him to speak. “Walk with me, First Lieutenant.”

Lightning sighed; it was going to be a long night. She turned around to thank Zecora for her assistance... only to find that she had disappeared without a sound. Even that seemed to lighten the captain’s dark mood, “You could learn from that one.” She could hear the smile without seeing it.

The pair walked into the Forest, paying special attention to stay in line of sight of the remainder of the Guard. Hawk sat down on his haunches. He prepared to speak, but stopped when the nearby shrubbery started rustling. The pair were momentarily alarmed until they recognized Zecora’s striped hide. She seemed intent on following some unknown signs that were not present. Her head was low and examining the grass. Lightning made special attention to watch the path at all times for exactly that reason, so she wasn’t sure what had caught Zecora’s eye. Zecora looked up, nodded at the pair, and continued to slink her way back to the shadows.

Hawk nodded back and returned his attention on Lightning. “Whatever your argument may be--” Lightning opened her mouth to protest, but the captain interrupted her. “Save it! You’re going back to town and I expect a full report of what happened here by the time I get back.” Even angry, he sounded like he swallowed glass before speaking.

Something rustled further in the darkness, likely Zecora again. The sound turned into a flurry of hoofbeats before they were cut off by a series of high whistles. What trinket in her saddlebags did that? Lightning made a mental note to meet with Zecora once she had time and managed to get the captain off her flank. That certainly couldn’t be anytime soon.

“Let’s start from the beginning. You separated yourself from your platoon knowing full well you were to meet up with them. You told no one where you were going. You ordered your wingpony into danger with you. You engaged an enemy we know nothing about without any form of backup. You nearly got yourself killed!”

“Every situation is unique. I made a judgement call.”

“You made a mistake. Fly back to Ponyville and prepare that report, and it better be good.”

Lightning opened her mouth to reluctantly agree, but her head injury and its effects on her flight came to mind. Hawk seemed to pick up on her train of thought, having seen her fall as well. “Can you make it back?”

Lightning shrugged her shoulders, not looking the captain in the eye. She was ‘cavalier’ with everyone in her unit, but this stallion was the only one she truly saw as her superior. Hawk called to two nearby Guards. “You two, help her back. And you!” He called to a third. “Even though she knows this forest, make sure that zebra gets back safely.” The trio nodded and landed next to the First Lieutenant.

It was going to be a long night indeed.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Deathscar, Retsamoreh, Ebony Eliis, Viktor Lionheart

Chapter 5: Alone

Chapter 5: Alone

I had thought that I imagined it. An emotion, as weak and tenuous as an ocean breeze, touched the blue creature’s face ever so slightly. It was a ghastly thing to see, likely brought on from my own experiences in the past with creepers. All I saw plastered on their faces was an endless accusatory glare, a piercing gaze that could open my mind and peer at its contents, seeing whatever little detail or memory inside. Always glaring, always seeking to slay me.

I suppose that’s what was so unnerving about this one. As the hate died down, it was replaced by something else. Curiosity? That would be my best guess. I think it would have been more comforting to see the all too familiar glare of a creeper. I know how to deal with that circumstance: fight or flight. I didn’t know how to deal with this. What do I do when I meet a creature that willingly offers me mercy? What could I possibly do to defend myself against its full might? Why did the creature not attack me when it had the chance to? I don’t know how to react to such mercy, such kindness.

That recurring reaction still rang loudly in my head. Fight or flight? I was still undecided. Either way, I needed room to maneuver. I needed to stand. I started to rise, paying special attention to make my movements as slow as possible to avoid startling this new creature.

Now that I wasn’t under the threat of imminent death, I took a moment to give the creature a more thorough examination. Indeed a quadrupedal creature... hooves... fetlocks... ankle and elbow... all typical anatomy expected of cattle, but the musculature was wrong. It was too lean, built for stamina and distance. ‘Twas thinner than I expected and had a narrow waist and wide hips. Child bearing hips. A female?

But it was not the discovery of a new creature that surprised me most. It wore clothes of a sort. Donned across its cranium was a bright silver tiara with minute engravings. The artifact was matched by a pair of silver slippers, equipped on both her front and back hooves. What kind of adornment was it? A sign of ownership? Superfluous decoration?

The other startling fact was an abstract and utterly fantastic phenomenon occurring on its cranium. Her hair was full and voluminous cobalt-blue, but was not composed of standard follicles. It appeared to be crafted out of...stars. Her wondrous and fantastic hair, something that shouldn’t exist, moved through the air with fluidic grace. I would understand if it were blowing in the wind, but no gale, large or small, was present. It simply moved of its own accord.

The she-beast opened her mouth and let out a garbled string of syllables, causing me to jump with surprise. That was most unexpected. Speech now? It seemed stunned by my startled reaction more than my mere presence. But what did it expect? I’d never seen her kind. Since I haven’t seen any of mine in this strange place, I would wager neither had she.

Its expression turned to one of contemplation and confusion. I know the feeling well. She said something else in her garbled tongue, more gibberish that I couldn’t understand.

Despite its language, I was curious about this peculiar creature. Mercy, curiosity, and language, all traits consistent of a sophisticated life form like myself. My many days in the Overworld, ones consumed by monotony and danger in equal shares, had numbed me of my loneliness gathered over the years. I used to strike up conversations with myself and the random livestock, sometimes even a penned monster, just to break up the monotony of my days. But after the eons, I had stopped the practice, or speaking in general. What use is speaking if there was never anyone to listen?

But now after this incredible ordeal, one fraught with new and lethal dangers and wonders, I had come across a creature capable of bridging the emotional and intellectual gap I had been missing in my life. Like the Endermen, I couldn’t understand it, but this time I might be able to reach a common ground.

I couldn’t help myself; I took a step forward and cautiously extended an arm toward the creature. She was hesitant, not expecting me to make the first move. I did not expect it either. I never did such a thing in the past. What was wrong with me? Why was I reaching out, physically and emotionally, to a creature that I did not know or understand in any respect?

It must be time, I supposed. I have lived for ages. Hundreds, thousands, millions of years; I am not sure how long anymore. I have long since stopped counting the eons. I have never withered with time, but met it hand-in-hand as it strolls down the long corridor of existence. My isolation defined me, so why did I throw it away so casually? Why perform an act I knew had a high chance of danger? Was I so starved of emotional stimulation that I would blindly reach out for the first outstretched opportunity to experience it?

Whatever temporary madness seeded my heart did not have time to sprout fruit. Just as the creature reached out with her own hooved appendage, the skies flooded with creatures from the clouds.

Oh, not a chance.

Too many to fight. Flight then, but that still left the blue female to deal with.

I needed a distraction. I needed an escape. Calling out my energy reserves once more, I extracted the flint and steel striker once more and started a blaze. At the very least, it would buy time.

The grass lit up and the flames began to spread. I noticed that they spread much faster than normal, but I didn’t much care right then and there; escape was the only thing on my mind. Since I could not outrun this creature, that left one choice. Ender Pearls.

I loathed using the Pearls and my hatred was two-fold. I must slay a sentient creature, an Enderman, to gain it, and using it is a double-edged sword. Upon being thrown, I would be teleported to wherever the stone lands. The problem was that I suffered wounds whenever I do so. A broken limb, coughing up blood, going momentarily blind, the list of symptoms goes on. Right then and there, I would gladly suffer harm in order to flee that small army.

I conjured a Pearl and threw it with all my might. After a brief wait, the horde of creatures and the village vanished from sight.

My wound that time was a sudden pain in my chest and a coughing fit. I needed to lean up against a tree, hacking up gobs of coagulated blood. The fit subsided after a few minutes, but the taste of iron never left my mouth. I examined my surroundings: thick trunks of trees deep in the forest, green grass, small streams, and... curves.

Curves...

No hard lines, no incremental spacing, and no predictable patterns. Trees did not have trunks built in perfect squares. The grassy forest hills and babbling streams were constructed in smooth and fluid lines, not 90 degree angles.

The Overworld and the Nether were built with a mathematical perfection. It had rules that were finite and insurmountable. Everything was composed of squares. It was easy to identify distance by such means. It helped me plan grids and homes, proving to be a flawless means of storing the maximum amount of objects within an enclosed space. There could be millions of pound of sand in a desert, but each desert was composed of sand blocks that were always a square meter in size. That was the rule. The law. The square was my life, how I saw the world and mined from it. How I harvested its resources. How I built monuments to my own vanity.

The square defined me.

So what trickery was this? What was wrong with this place? Why was it built to such absurd specifications? How was it capable of functioning on even a basic level? Curves? That left an infinite number of possibilities to consider. How could creatures, even those strange winged ones, live in such a confusing place?

I needed more information. I needed help comprehending what I was seeing, feeling, and experiencing. It was another item in the now long list of problems and contemplations I needed to sort through at a later date. I couldn’t help myself in my frustration. I slapped a hand to my face and gave a sigh of exasperation.

I blinked in surprise. The moon had not changed positions -- no, it had moved only the barest fraction, since I started my run.

Why hasn’t the moon moved? The night only lasts seven minutes; the moon should have moved much further by no --- know what? I don’t care. I’m not even surprised anymore.

There were no monsters here. I heard noises from deeper in the forest, yes, but I did not see any creatures. It was still night, so I expected creatures to be stalking me at every turn, that every shadow hid some horror ready and willing to slay me at a moment’s notice. There was nothing. There was rustling and growling far away, but no matter how far I walked, I heard nothing nearby. It was a night completely free of monsters. Why did that depress me?

I suppose it would be the last vestige of home I could latch onto, even if it was unpleasant. Everything I have experienced in this strange place added up to only one possible conclusion: this most definitely wasn’t the Overworld. Through that realm of energy, I had somehow jumped across worlds. No more could I tend to my herds, no more could I climb the mountains, no more could I cross the oceans with which i had become so acquainted.

...I was as far away from home as I could get.

I stood in a shallow stream pondering that, soft tears freely flowing from my eyes and washing away with the steadily flowing water. How adequate a metaphor. It hit me, right then and there, just how overwhelming my situation truly was. I had nothing left to hold onto, save for what was stored inside myself.

I was completely and unequivocally alone.

I dunked my hands in the water to clean off the grime and dirt accumulated over my stay and my final few hours in the Overworld. Particulates came off in brown streaks, but then something I should have noticed right away, something so foreign it might as well had a sign spelling out the irregularity, caught my attention.

I could feel the current against the palm of my hand. It was quite a peculiar sensation. The cold water brushed against every nerve, groove, and whorl. I couldn’t help but stupidly smile. Water in the Overworld pushed and shoved like a wall, moving whatever was in its path without a care in the world. Water here was calm and peaceful, slowly flowing across my hand like a gentle breeze.

I lifted my hand out of the water and watched as small droplets formed and dripped off. My hand started to numb with cold and my silly grin widened. What was it about these peculiar sensations that dumbfounded me so much?

Madness. Probably madness.

I had become addicted to textures. Everything in the Overworld was flat and lifeless. I had thought nothing of it because my primary goal up to now had been building and staying alive. But here, the trials were balanced out with a whole new set of sensations and pleasures. The bark of trees was gnarled and rough, coming off in chunks that were brittle and bothersome as I ground it up in my hands. The grass tickled my ankles as I walked through the weeds.

I tripped over a protruding root of a stout tree and landed in a bed of roses. Instead of growing singularly like they do in the Overworld, here I saw them clumped together in a medium-sized bush. My palm landed flat against a thorn as I braced myself against the fall. The pain was nothing, but I took a perverse fascination at watching a drop of blood collect, roll down my finger, and fall to the ground.

Something so small, and yet so wondrous to watch...

Scents were starting to fill my lungs and I had just received a faceful of roses. They had a sweet smell; refreshing, but not overpowering. I could smell water in the air so much more sharp than I used to. I heard the deep, thunderous boom of a coming storm and the smell of ozone stronger than I had ever smelt it before.

I took my time exploring my senses. The strong musk of the plants and earth and the smooth and gentle scents of the wind and waters, each brought forth an explosion of new sensations and feelings I didn’t know I possessed.

I kept walking, examining the life around me in as much detail as I could, but the further I walked, the louder and more aggressive a single noise became. It started off as a low hum, nothing to be concerned about in the slightest, but kept increasing in volume and intensity with every step. After moving aside some low-hanging brambles, I saw the source of the ruckus.

A waterfall, one far larger than any I had ever seen before, dumped hundreds of gallons of water every minute across an outcropping of granite. But it was not just the sight of it that set my mind in awe and my heart aflutter, it was the sound. It was great and tumultuous, a loud, all-consuming roar that deafened me to any other distraction or impulse. No event in the Overworld, or even anything I had seen up to that point in time, came anywhere close to matching the glory and splendor of that moment. I was enchanted at first sight.

I walked to the riverbank’s edge, almost slipping on the moist rocks in the process. The crashing water split into two paths, one in the deeper depths of the earth and the other snaked its way into the forest. The river started with a rapids that sprayed a fine layer of mist into the air and onto my face.

I simply stood on the stones, letting the roar wash over me. I watched the water turn into tiny droplets of liquid. I watched the cascade produce a vast swath of foam as it crashed into the riverbed. The water raced into the forest, the current looking like a thousand racing strands, each attempting to beat each other to the end of the line.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound alone wash over me. I was relaxed listening to that sound. It surrounded the moist air like an all-consuming cloak, a powerful yet comforting presence that allowed a weary miner and crafter to stand in its vicinity out of generosity. I just stood there, blind to the world.

I don’t know how long I listened to the waterfall. Everything else was slowly vanishing from my consciousness; my fatigue, the sweat staining my shirt, the mist in the air and my slowly calming heartbeat, all of that tucked itself neatly into the back of my head and faded into the dark of my subconscious. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t so bad. It just took some getting used to. Whatever my thoughts of the future may be, I was at peace once more.

Until that stupid flying creature interrupted my revelry.

I had lost all focus of my surroundings, and that made it easy for me to get ambushed. With a blow to the head, I was tackled to the ground. I flailed around uselessly to regain my footing and the creature detached itself from me.

I got to my feet and analyzed my foe. It was one of the flying creatures that accompanied the blue female from before. It was armored with a helm of a light violet hue with interlocking plates running down the back of its neck, topped off with some sort of bag tied across its back. It was the same type of creature as the blue one, only smaller in size and without the horn, but far more lean. It was glaring at me in challenge and curiosity, examining me for any sign of weakness.

I did not need this.

I did not want a fight, but I doubted I would be able to escape otherwise. I had lost my only sword earlier and I did not want to break out my bow too soon, so I needed a less conventional weapon.

I tried conjuring a stick, but the creature was too fast, maneuvering around me and attacking from behind. I fell to my knees, more out of shock than pain, and took a blind swing to my flank. I hit something and the creature landed to my left side, its attack diverted. I swung an elbow with every ounce of strength I possessed, knocking the creature on its rear.

I was so not in the mood for dealing with monsters right then and there. I conjured up my flint and steel firestarter and prepared to set the creature ablaze, but its speed was still too much. It rose into the air and vanished into the dark night sky.

I searched the dark corners of the forest, but my search was fruitless; everything beyond the first several meters was a featureless void in the pale moonlight. Which still only crawled across the sky.

No, I'm not bitter.

I required a light source to fight, so I brought forth a torch and thrust it into the stones. The flickering light illuminated the riverbank, but I still did not see the beast.

I heard a slight noise in the dark over the sound of the waterfall, but I could not pinpoint the disturbance. Soon after, I heard the clatter of stones and saw the creature gliding on its great, leathery wings.

I was left with no choice but to bring out my bow and letting loose a shot. It rose, banking off into the dark, and I lost it once more.

I needed to stop underestimating the creatures of this realm. This beast alone was highly intelligent; no movement was wasted, every action taught it something about my strategies. I was used to fighting dim creatures that could be overpowered by simple tactics and surprise. Sure, the creepers had enough smarts to ambush me from behind, but they were nothing compared to this creature. I wasn't in a simple battle, I was in a fight for my life.

I heard more shuffling rocks and let loose another arrow and immediately wished I hadn't waste it. I knew blind attacks wouldn't work on this creature; it was too smart for that.

With the torch at my back, I began watching the sky with as much scrutiny as the ground. It was fortunate I did, for a barrage of stones came soaring out of the dark. I dodged most, only needing an arrow to redirect one of them. But even though I managed to thwart its attack, I knew I was outmatched. It was time to flee again.

Conjuring up another Ender Pearl, I cocked an arm back and the Pearl was just about to leave my fingers, before I was tackled once more.

I was overcome by a sense of vertigo as I was abruptly teleported across space. Due to the creature’s interference, I had horrendously undershot the horizon I was aiming for. I wanted distance, but only managed to gain a few dozen yards on it, which would soon become useless as the Pearl's side effect took over.

I felt a horrible snap in my leg as the bone splintered. I gasped, clutching the offending leg in agony, but my concern unwillingly switched back to the creature as it continued the assault.

It took advantage of my weakness, letting loose a vicious assault on my body. I had become lean and hardened over many years of mining for ore, but that did not make me immune to damage. This creature's speed, its power, every punishment it dealt was fluid and graceful. I was fighting a warrior.

Fate, however cruel, was still fair. Blinking back the pain, I conjured a torch and dropped it in attempt to frighten the creature. The creature hissed in pain, but held its ground. It bought me enough time to gather my thoughts for a counter attack. This creature, however skilled, was smaller and far less lean than myself. In a test of strength, I might be able to triumph.

To do so, I needed time to recover, but I couldn't just yet; that would leave an opening. But if I made an intentional opening, perhaps I could buy the time I needed. My strength was greater and I tossed the creature off, but it was not through with me yet. Dodging my first few strikes, it blitzed my undefended body and turned.

I smiled.

I had examined the musculature of the blue female and concluded that these creature had fairly strong leg muscles. A strike with both legs would be slow, but devastating enough to finish me in a single stroke. I was waiting for that.

I conjured up two cubes of cobblestone and set them in place between us. The energy ribbons dropped to the ground and hardened to their natural state as they left me. I heard a thump on the other side of the wall and what I hope was cursing in pain. Petty vengeance is the best vengeance. It was like that time I stormed a group of creepers with nothing but a helmet, chestplate, and sword for trying to blow me up. No more creepers trying to steal all my stuff again.

Stop getting distracted, stop getting distracted, stop getting distracted...

Every spare second that that wall had bought was precious. I conjured a Potion of Instant Healing and downed the contents. My aches began to numb to naught but a dull ache. I felt a tingling sensation as my leg reset the bone and knitted the muscles to their proper place. Next, I conjured my trusty iron pickaxe.

It was time to fight back.

I charged fist and pickaxe swinging, but deliberately kept the attack slower than necessity demanded. I wanted to draw the creature in close again, for that would be the only time I could make a suitable counterattack. Luckily, it took the bait.

I slipped on the wet stones, dropping my pick in the process, but the end result was still the same. It headbutted my abdomen and I felt something give way. However, my mind was set on defeating the creature in front of my, however I may do it. But first, I needed to get rid of its pesky armor.

Absorbing a single item is easy, but if it's jammed right next to another, it's more difficult. It takes a great deal of concentration to select what item to convert and absorb, especially if it is attached to a living entity.

In a fit of boredom, I made helmets for cattle and practiced absorbing them without physically removing them. Those first few tries were tricky, but I had honed the skill to such a degree that I was able to do it successfully about 90% of the time.”.

Clasping my hands around its head, I started the process of absorbing its helmet. The helmet turned into an amorphous blob of violet before running up my arm and into my chest, safely tucked inside me with all my other items. The creature's eyes widened in understanding at what was about to happen. It would have been correct, if it guessed I would be returning the headbutt.

The creature slumped over, stunned, and I gathered my pick to deliver the finishing blow.

Then it came.

I am not a creature fond of hyperbole but I almost jumped out of my skin when the ground between myself and the creature burst into flames without warning. The creature had managed to stand up and was looking around in alarm, but she did not see what I saw. Something spoke from the darkness, stepping out with a confidence that suggested it could enter and exit through the darkness as it pleased.

It was another one of the four legged creatures, only slightly smaller than the winged one in front of me. What was strange about the newcomer was it had a varying mishmash of white and black stripes across its hide. So far, the skins of these animals had been constant to one color and only one, but it was the first time I had set my eyes on one of these creatures with a multi-colored coat.

The creature spoke, using the same garbled tongue that I had no hope of deciphering. However, I don't believe I needed to. Like the blue one, the striped one had very telling eyes. I do not recall the color, but those eyes... they betrayed an intelligence I would not have thought these creatures possessed. It did not bow or submit to me as a threat or superior in any way; it believed itself to be in command of the situation.

Frankly, I was impressed, because, looking back on the situation, I believe it was wholeheartedly.

There was something I found curious in the striped one’s eyes. It wasn’t like the winged creature’s need for dominance, but it still radiated the same aura of command. For the moment, we simply stared into each other’s eyes, seeking out what little morsel of knowledge we could find.

I found none. I couldn’t help but admire the creature’s fortitude and intelligence. It - I should say she due to it having the same child-bearing hips - commanded me without saying an understandable word that our duel should end. Even the other creature seemed to defer to it. But even though I doubt it was for the same reasons, I did not want the battle to continue. I was near exhaustion and the emotional strain of my ordeal up to that point had taken a great toll on my physical and mental well-being. This fight needed to end.

I lowered my pickaxe and made myself ready to retreat into the forest. The sounds I heard from before, the growling and roaring, came back to mind, but I would take my chances deeper in the forest over fighting the winged one alone again. If it teamed up with the striped one, I was certain I would lose the duel. I looked at the winged one again; it was fidgeting at my every move, but remained in place.

I turned in place and ran for all I was worth.

I don’t know how far I ran or how long, but I could no longer see the flickering light of my torch and the sound of running water had been reduced to dull hum. I had escaped both creatures and certain death. But the eyes of the striped one... it was like trying to force my way past an iron wall with nothing but my fists. I did not believe I could dominate her will even if I understood her language.

When I believed I had acquired a suitable distance away from the pair, I stopped to think things over. My first order of business was to develop a shelter. I needed a sanctuary from assault, as I was still unsure of what else could call this strange world home. It was time to get to work.

I replaced my pickaxe with a shovel and started digging myself a hole to hide in. Ah, my last fallback option: dig a hole and cry like a coward. I used to be so much braver than this. I had become soft with nothing but creepers, spiders and zombies to fight. It only took a worthy adversary to show me my true colors.

My shovel’s magic did its job, extracting a cubic meter out of the ground and converting it into another stream of energy for me to absorb. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I had a large enough pit to walk around in. As a last measure to conceal my presence to the outside world, I placed dirt above my head, returning the ground above me to its natural state. Crude, but effective.

I stood in a hollow bunker underground, contemplating what to do. My hands started shaking with exhaustion and poorly repressed fear. I couldn’t stop myself from sliding to the ground while I panted and broke out in cold sweat. I was safe from harm, but everything I had just experienced, Endermen, Darkness, strange portals, and new creatures with an uncanny intellect, came rushing back in a flood of emotion and pain. I was alone, but still panicking, a traitorous impulse that I did not need to deal with at that point. I needed rest, I needed to focus myself, set a goal in stone and follow it. So I conjured up one of my journals and began my tale, a series of unfortunate events that baffled, enthralled, and terrorized me to my core.

I now conclude my recount, sitting on the moist ground with the light of a single torch to illuminate the rectangular dirt room. I am drained. I feel like I must do something, set traps to make my safety certain, something to occupy myself, but I have nothing left to give. I can’t even force myself to stand, let alone conjure a bed for a proper night's rest. I’m just too tired, drained of all enthusiasm. Nothing but the imminent fear of death could make me move from this spot right now. I’m just too tired right now.

I’m so tired right now. So tired right now. If my chronicle continues at a future date, I have survived the night. For now, I must rest.

Rest...

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter commentary: LINK
For updates, chapter commentary, and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Material Defender, Ebony Eliis, Viktor Lionheart

Author's Note

When I started writing At the End, I did not think I would be doing nearly as well as I currently am. My only point of references, a fanfic I started writing in abou ‘06, stopped at 20k words and only garnered 2 reviews. While I wrote it when I was young and stupid and it had a lot of problems, it was still what I expected to get out of this. Besides that fanfic, this is my first time trying to seriously write anything. I did not expect the reaction i am getting out of this.

So here I am with over 40 comments to my credit and 70 favorites. Bronies and pegasisters, i thank you for your support and I will do all I can to keep this story as enthralling as possible. I appreciate all you have given me, including the drive to make sure this story gets completed.

Thanks for everything!

--Journeyman

Chapter 6: The Lion's Den

Chapter 6: The Lion’s Den

The sun had been over the horizon for two hours, but it was not visible behind a thick layer of clouds covering the sky over Ponyville. The clouds coming down from the mountains had let loose a twenty minute deluge shortly after the Night Guard returned from scouring the forest. The Royal Guard of Canterlot and Council of Magic had mobilized and began setting up camp on the outskirts of town, but the unpleasant weather had delayed Celestia’s chariot until morning.

As it landed, her two dozen guards spread out in a circle to protect the Princess. A single pegasus clad in the golden armor of the Royal Guard was there waiting to meet her. “Corporal Willow Winds, your Highness. I’ll be your escort until you are up to date on current events.”

“Very well, Corporal.” Celestia started walking down the street. Her guards gave the pair a respectable distance to speak alone. “Where is my sister?”

“After setting some of her entourage to guard Ponyville until reinforcements arrived, she set up base in the abandoned castle in the Everfree Forest. She’s started patrols to search for a suspect involved with recent events. Searches have been reduced to a crawl with all the monsters in there, though. However, something seems to have spooked most of them. There are scattered reports of several creatures running blindly and not stopping, even if they injure themselves in the process. It’s unconfirmed if it is the creature’s doing. Speaking of which, due to all the noise I’ve been hearing, I swear, Princess Luna’s probably wrestling every basilisk and dragon in there in an effort to find the one responsible for last night’s trouble.” Corporal Winds’ words registered with him a little too late. “Er, no offense, your highness.”

Celestia chuckled merrily. “None taken, Corporal. Now, is there a description of this subject?”

“First Lieutenant Chaser, one of Princess Luna’s entourage, engaged the creature, but it escaped capture. Captain Hawk has tasked her with all the details surrounding the suspect and ordered her to prepare as full a report as possible. She is ready to debrief you at your convenience. She suffered injuries, but I’ve been told she will be alright.”

Celestia gave a sigh of relief. “That is good news. Any other casualties?” The pair turned a corner, running right into a lavender unicorn with a saddlebag strapped to her back.

“Oof!” Twilight stumbled and looked up, preparing to give a stern talking to whomever wasn’t watching where they were going. Upon seeing whose company she was in, Twilight gave a respectful bow. ”Princess Celestia!”

Celestia, knowing full well that Twilight was capable of blowing even minor infractions far out of proportion, put a hoof to her student’s cheek and lifted her head so their eyes met. “No need for apologies Twilight, it was merely an accident.” Celestia’s Honor Guard, upon seeing Twilight, immediately relaxed and assumed their search for any signs of danger.

“I had heard you were coming to Ponyville earlier,” Twilight commented.

“I’m afraid the storms Ponyville’s weather ponies organized delayed my arrival.” Twilight nodded, accepting the response. It was then that Celestia saw how haggard Twilight looked. Her mane was in disarray and she had deep shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep. “Dear Twilight, have you been waiting for me all this time?”

Twilight shook her head. “No... well, yes. I’ve been up all night helping to organize the effort to repair Ponyville.”

“Yes, I received a missive from Luna describing damages to the town. I’ve already organized the Masons Guild to send a representative to examine the damages and issue a workforce to help.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Twilight expressed gratefully.

Celestia bent down and nuzzled Twilight affectionately, “It is my duty as a ruler of Equestria to help its citizens in its time of need. Now is the time for rest Twilight; go get some sleep.”

Twilight shook her head emphatically. “This is my home. I can’t rest until I make sure it’s okay.”

Celestia couldn’t help but smile and her heart burned with pride at her student’s words. She remembered many years ago when Twilight wouldn’t even remove a book from under her nose to watch where she stepped, let alone to socialize. Now here she was, doing everything in her power to selflessly help others with everything at her disposal. “I will make you a deal Twilight. You can accompany me in my tour of Ponyville under the condition that, once it is done, you head straight to bed.”

Twilight was going to protest at the timeline, but the look in her teacher’s eyes said that there wouldn’t be any wiggle room in the deal. Twilight nodded in agreement.

“Then it is settled.” She turned her head to Corporal Winds. “As you were, Corporal.”

Corporal Winds turned around to face the pair; he had turned to the side to give them a moment alone with each other. “First Lieutenant Chaser was the only one to suffer wounds among the Night Guard. For what we have gathered from Ponyville Residential Hospital records, most of Ponyville, those that have wounds anyway, only suffered minor contusions and lacerations with a few broken bones sprinkled in the mix. No fatalities. But there was one special instance where the Hospital had been ordered to take special care. A unicorn mare was attacked by the suspect with a form of alchemy and has been treated in the hospital ever since.”

“Lyra Heartstrings! I almost forgot!” Twilight exclaimed. She rooted around her saddlebags for a second before pulling out a single, golden lyre. “I was supposed to give this to her!”

“Well, we better deliver it now, shouldn’t we?” Celestia whispered conspiratorially.

Corporal Winds protested. “Beg your pardon Princess, but there are other pressing matters to attend to.”

“This is one of those matters, Corporal. As much as I protect the nation, I am equally responsible for the individual. I wish to meet this unicorn and acquire her recount of events.”

Her mind had been made up and Corporal Winds made no further protest. “This way, Princess.”

After a brief chariot ride, the trio arrived at Ponyville Residential Hospital with enough Royal Guards to take down an Ursa Minor. A pair of Guards opened the doors for the Princess and Twilight, Corporal Winds, and Princess Celestia stepped into the sterile environment flush with the scent of clean linen and disinfectant. It was lucky they landed when they did; after a flash of lightning, the ground soon became drenched with a torrential downpour.

“Lyra is on the third floor with a Night Guard. He was ordered to stay there after the rest of the Royal Guard arrived.” Twilight said and led the way to the elevator. Nurses and doctors alike dropped their jaws and bowed at their royal guest, their passing garnering best wishes and praises.

Lyra’s room was rather spartan, but that was to be expected. The Ponyville hospital had been quite busy since events from last night and hadn’t approved of bringing items from home for the bedridden. Lyra herself was more chipper since Twilight had last seen her, sitting upright in a rather odd way and speaking to her marefriend Bon Bon. They were speaking animatedly together and laughed in unison after Lyra had finished a lengthy story about somepony stealing slippers from the hospital.

A pair of guards posted themselves at the door as Celestia, Twilight and the Corporal entered. Their arrival brought the eyes of the pair, Nurse Coldheart, and a lone Night Guard lying lazily on one of room’s couches. The moment his eyes set on Celestia, he immediately stood at attention.

“At ease, soldier.” The soldier reluctantly relaxed. Bon Bon and Lyra slid off the bed and bowed to the Princess along with the nurse.

“Good morning, Princess.” The marefriend’s said in synchronous.

“Good morning, you two. I’ve heard that you had quite the trying night.”

“Yes, she has,” Nurse Coldheart commented dryly.

“How is she, nurse?” Twilight asked.

The nurse picked up the clipboard at the foot of Lyra’s bed. She scanned it for a second and opened her mouth, but Lyra spoke up first. “Oh, I’m fine!” She gave a little skip and cantered in a few circles to prove her claim.

Nurse Coldheart, in her perpetually deadpan expression, responded in kind. “Yes, Ms. Heartstrings does appear to be in perfect health. However, I’m keeping her here for another day for observation purposes.”

Bon Bon nodded in understanding, but Lyra’s outcry was immediate. “Aw, come on!”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Heartstrings; those are Captain Hawk’s orders until we verify your recovery.” Nurse Coldheart only stared back blankly and sighed.

“What can you tell me about her condition, Nurse?” Celestia asked.

“Not much, Princess. Whatever Ms. Heartstrings got splashed with didn’t leave much of a trace; all I can tell you about its composition is it was water-based. It could have been infused with magic to increase the effects or it could be purely chemical. There’s just no way to tell without a better sample.” She flipped another page.

“As for its effects, they slowed down Ms. Heartstrings vitals to near-coma level. They were still strong, but incredibly slow. It decreased heart rate, respiration, brain activity, everything. We’d be more concerned, but her vitals started to stabilize within an hour. By two, she was back on her hooves and rowdy as ever.”

“Hey!”

“Professionally and personally, I believe she will be fine.” Nurse Coldheart put the clipboard back on its stand, wrote down Lyra’s current vitals, and left to give Celestia some privacy.

It was at this moment Twilight removed the lyre from her saddlebags and placed it on the counter next to the unicorn. Lyra’s face lit up.

“Thanks, Twilight! It’s about time they let me get some of my stuff in here.”

“Oh, come off it, Lyra; give it a break,” Bon Bon sighed in exasperation, but the smile on her face told everyone she wasn’t serious. Lyra smiled back and, after lifting her instrument with her magic, began to play.

It was a short piece, with a brisk tempo filled with staccato notes. It started off smooth and gentle, but the tempo and the volume increased halfway through. The section was suited for a percussion section with low bass drums for emphasis before she entered the song’s final movement with a quartet of legato triplets. The song’s final section was very upbeat and fast tempo, punctuated nicely by multiple thunderclaps from the storm clouds hovering in the sky. It made Twilight’s knees itch with the urge to start running and go on a journey.

But the song ended quickly; Lyra was in the company of royalty after all and knew that Celestia had questions about her past experience. Celestia, however, had been nodding her head to the tune in enjoyment. Even the Night Guard in the corner had lifted his head to enjoy the music.

“That was quite an interesting piece, Ms. Heartstrings. I do so miss hearing them after you left the School for Gifted Unicorns.” Lyra beamed in appreciation. “Now Ms. Heartstrings, what can you tell me about your encounter?”

“It was kind of cool. It didn’t have hooves like us, but five digits instead. I wonder what it feels like.” She flexed her limbs experimentally. She had a goofy smile on her face, eyes bright in wonder as she contemplated the possibilities.

Bon Bon grinned and elbowed her marefriend. “Focus, Lyra.”

Lyra shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Oh! Sorry, my mind wandered there for a second. Anyway, I’m not worried about it. It was kinda my fault.”

As soon as everyone’s brains stopped grinding gears, Celestia asked the obvious question, “What do you mean, Ms. Heartstrings.”

“Oh, I kinda popped out of the door and it was just surprised to see me.”

“And running away after hitting you in the face was just its way of saying sorry,” was the retort of a disgruntled Bon Bon.

“Come on, Bon Bon! Love and tolerate!” Lyra pulled Bon Bon close and nuzzled her cheek; that stopped her complaints right in their tracks. Bon Bon blushed and muttered something about propriety in the presence of royalty, but Celestia just gave a light chuckle and excused the group.

“I hope you remain well, Ms. Heartstrings. Good day.” After thank-yous and goodbyes, Twilight followed Celestia out the door.

It wasn’t until they were outside, in the - thankfully - now not raining street, that Cpl. Winds spoke, “As a matter of fact, Princess, your sister Princess Luna said something similar to Ms. Heartstring. During their first encounter, the creature attempted some form of communication with the Princess before it was frightened off by the Night Guard.”

“I pray that be the case, for many details of this creature gravely worry me. I do not wish for my subjects to confront this creature on hostile terms.” It was the first sign of uncertainty Celestia expressed so far. It was quickly replaced by her signature poker face. “Come, I wish to see Ponyville. It has been such a long time since my last visit.”

It did not look like the town would need the help of the Masons Guild when they arrived. Most of the larger debris around town had been cleared by the early risers and those who woke up in the dead of night. While there was still much work to be done, it was nothing compared to the effort it took to repair the parasprite infestation. Not that Twilight would ever tell Celestia that.

As the trio strolled down town with Celestia’s Honor Guard watching close, several ponies stopped what they were doing and bowed to the Princess. Each offered their own praise, be to Celestia or the crown itself at each stop in the road. Several others spoke in hushed voices and expressed fears about the large gateway that loomed directly overheard like some great oppressor. Celestia did her best to give reassurances about Ponyville’s safety and proclamations that the source of the gateway would be uncovered. Since she had further business to attend to, her talks were short, but still beneficial for the peace of mind of Ponyville’s residents.

When she was done, Celestia asked to be taken to the Council of Magic and seek out their findings on the gateway. Before Corporal Winds could set a course, a member of the Royal Guard landed next to the trio and spoke with him. When done, he saluted Princess Celestia and took off once more.

“That was a report from the search parties. They had not yet found the creature responsible, but they know it’s nearby. They’ve detected several signs where it’s been cutting wood.

“Also, I was updated on the search for a missing resident. While First Lieutenant Chaser did battle the creature, the fight was interrupted by a zebra named Zecora. After the fight, she left and Captain Hawk issued some Night Guards to escort her home. However, she disappeared before that could happen. Her home has been searched several times and there is no sign of her in the search for the creature; there is just no trace of her and no signs as to where she went.”

Twilight’s ears drooped at the news. “I do hope she’s alright.”

The Corporal did his best to reassure her, “Do not fear, Ms. Twilight; the very best of the Royal Guard are searching the Everfree Forest as we speak. If she’s in danger, she will be found.” However, he deliberately did not mention what condition she would likely be found in, or if she even wanted to be found. Some things were best left unsaid to ease those with a troubled mind.

A field to the south of Ponyville became the temporary home for a full military garrison. None save for the young and ambitious wanted to be there, but there was a job to do. With both Princesses in the immediate vicinity, no one wanted to disappoint, even if it meant risking getting struck by lightning.

The Everfree Forest was quickly divided into a ten by twenty grid with each and every square needing a search for a bipedal creature responsible for several recent events, including an attack on one of their own. That fact was fresh in Sergeant Jetstream’s mind as he scanned his own grid square, with four Senior Privates. They were skimming the canopy but, so far, there was little of interest other than a few scattered woodland creatures, a roaming cockatrice, an occasional thunderclap, and lots and lots of trees. So many trees...

He and his group banked left on a warm thermal and gained some height; maybe a little distance would help establishing some points of reference. Sergeant Jetstream didn’t see much in terms of landmarks either; most of the forest terrain was filled with treacherous terrain, but his assigned square was mostly low hills and shallow streams. A perfectly normal forest, save for one more monster than usual. It was like finding a needle in a haystack... in another haystack.

One of the Senior Privates gave a sigh of boredom, but kept his comments to himself. Sergeant Jetstream didn’t care what the soldier did, just as long as he did his job right. After completing the high pass, he decreased his altitude and started another sweep of the forest. He could always go below the canopy, but that would only bring unwanted trouble. Five stallions could handle one creature with confidence, but the thick canopy leaves cast long and deep shadows, perfect hiding places for an ambush by the forest’s dark denizens. Sergeant Jetstream would not dip below the canopy unless he had something to work with.

So the Sergeant's search continued. It continued in the same manner as before, high pass, low pass, high pass, low pass. This continued for a total of three hours before someone interrupted the monotony.

The Senior Private to Sergeant Jetstream’s left darted his head to the forest below. The Sergeant followed his gaze and, upon seeing nothing, asked, “Something wrong, Senior Private?”

“I’m... I’m not sure Sergeant. I thought I saw something flash, but... I don’t see anything now.” The Senior Private returned his gaze to an opening in the canopy where they could all see the entrance to a cave.

“Well, make up your mind Senior Private. Did you see something or didn’t you?”

“I... well...” The Senior Private looked to the Sergeant before looking back to the cave, before looking right back at the Sergeant. He was biting his lip uncertainly, but after a brief moment of contemplation, he steeled his nerves. “Yes, Sergeant.”

Jetstream nodded. “Well, let’s take a look then.”

The quintet altered course and landed in the grass just short of the cavern, their wings scattering dust as they flapped them to cushion their landing. Sergeant Jetstream, after a quick check to make sure his team was alright, started examining his surrounding. It was what he expected: great tree trunks, plenty of darkness, tall grasses, an imposing cave entrance...

And an absolute, dead silence.

There were no signs or sounds of the critters he spotted earlier, and no sign of light. Well, there weren’t any reflective sources or shiny rocks, all he saw was the same dull brown and black stones, so Jetstream’s immediate conclusion was it was a trick of the light---

“Guuuuguggguah.....”

A low gurgle echoed from the cavern below them, no doubt the warning cry of a creature that called the cave home.

As soon as he thought that, a pair of manticores roared from the dank depths and charged out in force, teeth glinting and paws swinging. Sergeant Jetstream issued a quick command, “Rise!”

The quintet rocketed into the air, narrowly avoiding clawed paws that would have torn them to ribbons if given the chance. But as the group gained altitude, the Sergeant saw something unusual: burned across the flanks of both creatures was a long, single scar. It was if some other creature slid a hot poker across their hides in a fit of madness, deliberately frightening or harming the no doubt mates for some depraved purpose. Dangerous as they were, such creatures did not deserve such deplorable treatment, even by another creature from the forest.

But something was stranger still. The manticores kept on running, simply charging blindly into the forest and vanishing into the darkness. They did not pursue them or even glance in their direction after their first mutual meeting, so they did not attack out of some defensive instinct for their den. What could have possibly caused them to go berserk in the first place? Was that how they got their matching scars? What could be so intimidating that it would frighten a pair of manticores from their den?

“Remember to mark this sector as incomplete; we may need to go down there.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter commentary: LINK
For chapter progress and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Maverick Frond, Material Defender

Chapter 7: The Hitchhiker

Chapter 7: The Hitchhiker

Princess Celestia, in a desire to walk around Ponyville some more, declined using her chariot to expedite her journey. This stemmed from wanting to meet and reassure more of Ponyville’s residents, but most had started fleeing to their homes or to relatives if their roof was too damaged by the gateway. Their flight was more than justified; the skies could not decide if they were going to rain or not.

That’s not to say nopony was still outside waiting for the impending malestrom. All dressed in raincoats, Cherilee was herding the Cutie Mark Crusaders to their respective caretakers: Rainbow Dash, Rarity, and Applejack.

“Aw, come on! Why not?” Scootaloo complained. Rainbow Dash ruffled the filly’s hair affectionately.

“Sorry, kiddo; leave the storm chasing to the experts.”

“But this could be it!” The Crusaders gasped in unison. “Cutie Mark Crusaders: Storm Chasers!”

“Now, now children.” Cherilee interjected. “It’s time to crusade your way back home before the weather becomes too bad. Now shoo; I’m sure you all have chores at home.”

“Awww...” Sweetie Belle whined. She looked up at the storm clouds in her melancholic air, but upon gazing on the gateway’s empty black border, she smiled in wonder. “Girls! I have an idea:--” She brandished her hooves wide, building up the suspense of sudden revelation. Applebloom and Scootaloo leaned in close because neither of them wanted to go home and were under the influence of Sweetie Belle’s infectious enthusiasm.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders: Monster Hunters!” Both Scootaloo and Applebloom smiled in excitement, eyes shining in wonder.

“Yeah!” The elated pair shouted.

Rarity, however, swiftly diffused the trio’s adventurous and likely dangerous antics before their sparks could be stoked into flames. “Well, Sweetie Belle, if you start hunting monsters, there won’t be a crusader available to hunt the ice cream I have stashed in the back of the freezer.”

That alone was enough to distract her, “Ice cream!” And she cantered after her sister.

Scootaloo, disappointed at losing an adventure more than anything, shouted after Sweetie Belle. “Oh, come on! It was your idea!”

Sweetie Bell turned around to give a quick apology, “I’m sorry girls! I’ll see you later! Maybe next time!” And she resumed bouncing in excitement at the coming treat.

As the remaining two Crusaders grumbled and joined their caretakers, Celestia and Twilight couldn’t help but giggle. Silly fillies. Nevertheless, Princess Celestia still had work to do and calmly followed Corporal Winds’ lead to the Council of Magic and their makeshift headquarters.

The Council had established themselves in a large tent outside of Ponyville below one of the corners of the Portal. Several magi and Royal Guards walked every which way in what Twilight thought Rarity called “ordered chaos.” There were nearly a hundred ponies milling about, each and everyone one bumping into each other, excusing themselves, and continuing on their way. Guards set up perimeters and lines of communication, while magi carried scrolls, wrote down notes, or tampered with equipment unfamiliar to Twilight.

A lone unicorn with glasses and a dressed in a simple gray cloak looked up when the trio approached. He put down his notes, stepped toward Celestia, bowed, opened his mouth to introduce himself--

“Professor Incantus!” Twilight’s forelegs were instantly around the middle-aged stallion’s neck. Celestia couldn’t help but be surprised herself.

It was a well known fact that Celestia took on Twilight Sparkle as her personal protege. While the majority of Twilight’s training and lessons took place under her tutelage, her royal duties consumed much of her time and made it made it necessary for her to hire tutors. Countess Incantus’ husband, Hexxus Incantus, had retired from teaching roles to work his wife’s personal estate. At the personal request of the Princess, Hexxus had agreed to teach Twilight. Twilight never had any friends in Canterlot, but her thirst for knowledge gave her a certain bond with her teachers.

Twilight continued to squeal in glee before reluctantly letting go of her teacher. Hexxus contented himself with idly stroking Twilight’s hair. “Look at you, Twilight! The last time I saw you, you told me you were moving to Ponyville on order of the Princess. And now you’ve become an Element of Harmony, saved Equestria three times, and from what I’ve heard, managed to have time to make friends. You’ve done well, Twilight. You’ve done very well; you’ve made more than Celestia proud.” Celestia and Twilight both understood which highlight more than any other he was referring to.

“We’ll have to talk later, Twilight; right now, I mustn’t keep the Princess waiting.” Leaving Twilight, he bowed to the Princess. “I have been placed in command of my wife’s resources until the remainder of the Council arrives. Until that time, how may I be of service?”

“For starters,” Celestia asked, “what can you tell me of this gateway?”

The magus pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, Princess, this gateway is the most absurd thing I have ever studied. Now take everything I am about to tell you with a grain of salt; we haven’t had too much time to study this thing yet.

“It is suspended in the skies above Ponyville, but for the life of me and everyone here, we can’t figure out why. There is no magic that we understand holding this up. No spells of preservation, suspension, levitation, holding, nothing. This is an entirely new incantation that hasn’t even been theorized yet.”

Hexxus Incantus picked up a notebook and fiddled with his glasses again. “The composition is even stranger, believe it or not. It threw us for a loop for a while, too. The gateway is almost indestructible, impervious to almost any blow, physical or magical, that we have used to gather samples for analysis. A rainbow pegasus residing in a cloud home nearby suggested we should “just start bashing it with diamonds” to loosen it up. After we ran out of ideas, we tried that out of sheer irritation and, believe it or not, it worked. We knocked off a corner chunk and studied it. Now here’s a mystery to ponder: it’s obsidian. It’s a doorway one kilometer by two kilometers long, composed of cubes of obsidian one meter in size each.”

“What!?” Twilight exclaimed. “That’s impossible!”

“Indeed it is. A stone nearly as brittle as glass reinforced to such a degree that it took the hardest known substance to even make a dent in it. We only recently discovered this fact, so I can’t comment on the matter much more than that.”

“Is there any other information available?” Celestia asked.

“Just one, Princess, and this is the strangest discovery yet.” He smiled at the stunned look on Twilight’s face. “Twilight!”

The unicorn snapped out of her stupor. “Yes, Professor?”

Hexxus smiled, “For old time’s sake, how do leylines and pony genetics relate?”

“Leylines do not affect pony magic in general, but how ponies use it. Earth ponies are stronger and more hardy while unicorns can use magic.”

“Full marks, Twilight.” Twilight beamed in pleasure. “Now as you know, each type of magic is different. Earth pony magic is low frequency, affecting them on the physical level and nothing else. Unicorns are on the opposite end of the spectrum with pegasi in the middle. Now our first order of business was to examine the trace frequencies left behind in creating this thing.” He pointed a hoof up at the gateway. “Magic doesn’t tend to leave a trail, but the larger and more complex the spell, the greater the possibility that can occur. When the results came back, that’s when we started scratching our collective heads in confusion.

“We did indeed catch trace amounts of magic in the obsidian shards. While they didn’t leave too much of a trail to follow,” Hexxus seemed more disgruntled at that than anything else so far. “we got a firm grasp on the frequencies. They were off the scale! Far higher than even the strongest magical containers in the known world, higher than even yours, Your Majesty. It’s utterly impossible.”

“Hold on a second,” Twilight interrupted before Hexxus could go any further. “You said they. Plural.”

Hexxus nodded. “Indeed. We expected the ambient magic expected in the air, especially being right above a populace. There was plenty of that, but those frequencies were not what we found at ground zero.” He pointed a hoof at Golden Harvest’s garden.

That got Celestia’s attention. “Another type of magic?”

Hexxus shook his head. “Not one; two. There was ambient magic, and two others. Two separate frequencies too high to belong to any known magic.”

For the first time since her arrival, concern broke through the cracks of her regal exterior. Her eyes widened at the horror of the situation, “By the Powers...”

Celestia mentally shook off the shock of Hexxus’ words. Despite the unprecedented situation, she needed to remain strong; if not for her vassals, than her subjects. Her eyes hardened in determination. The outward sign of strength appeared to work; Hexxus had taken a nervous step back. “I want First Lieutenant Chaser’s battleground scanned with equal scrutiny. Leave no stone unturned.”

“It has been done,” Corporal Winds interjected. “As soon as Princess Luna discovered this herself, she ordered the first magus she set her eyes on to do so. Shall I put in the order that you are to be informed as well?”

“Please, Corporal.” Corporal Winds nodded and cantered to the Royal Guards stationed to protect the Council and their work. One of the pegasi nodded and, after a brief run to gain speed, took off for the castle of the Royal Pony sisters.

“I leave you to your work, magi,” Celestia called to the present members of the Council. Save for Hexxus, there did not appear to be any high ranking members there quite yet. No matter; they would be arriving shortly.

Since Celestia was still in the mood to walk, Corporal Winds led the way to Celestia’s final destination for the morning: the medical barracks. That would be, of course, if a certain pink pony had not interrupted their journey halfway through.

Pinkie Pie had somehow managed to commandeer Ponyville Town Hall and staged another one of her grand parties. Several dozen ponies, including a few off-duty Royal Guards, were meandering around the various games that had been set up outside. There was the standard pin the tail on the pony and horseshoes, but what caught Twilight’s eye was Berry Punch in a clown suit suspended above a vat of water.

Looking inside, Twilight could see the were walls lined with tables filled with several of Pinkie’s and the Cake’s usual sweet culinary delights along with pies and barrels of apples bought from the Apple family. Even Celestia seemed impressed by the vast spread, “Oh dear; Pinkie Pie seems to have set up quite the party. I didn’t know she had a party scheduled for today.”

Neither did Twilight. “S-s-she didn’t.” But that was just Pinkie Pie; no one in Ponyville really needed a reason for her behavior other than that.

“Silly filly. That was easy!”

“Gah!” Somehow had snuck up behind Celestia, Twilight, and Winds. The Honor Guard, in all of their training and expertise, a combined total of thousands of hours of active duty, all dropped their jaws at the sudden and unexpected appearance of their newest guest. No one, not even Celestia, had detected the absurd pony’s approach.

The Royal Guard began to surround Pinkie and attempt to draw her back away from Celestia, but Pinkie, however pudgy she had become from gorging on sweets, still managed to squeeze her way through a sea of Guards and return to Twilight.

“I know that everyone would be upset that somepony got Ponyville all dirty.” A Guard attempted to tackle Pinkie from the side, but she nimbly ducked under the leap. “And many ponies were mad that Lyra was attacked. Especially Bon Bon. Did you see her this morning? She was furious when the Night Guard told her they lost whoever did this! I’ve never seen her so mad!” Another Guard grabbed at her hind legs to perform a takedown maneuver, but as casual shifting of her feet caused his to lose his grip and fall on his face. Pinkie stepped back, likely oblivious that she was stepping on somepony’s head.

“So I thought of the perfect way to cheer everyone up!” She reared up on her hind legs, causing two guards attempting to tackle her to crash into each other. “A party! I even got Berry Punch for one of my new games!” One stallion lined up his shot and threw a stone at Berry Punch's dunk tank.

Thunk!

Gooosh!

“And it works! But I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll talk to you later! Bye Twilight! Bye Princess!” Pinkie cantered off, singing to herself a merry tune. “A-la-la-la-la!”

The Honor Guard just stared at Pinkie’s retreating form, completely baffled at what to do. Their commander looked to Celestia for guidance, but she shook her head. Very soon, Celestia’s smirk turned to an open grin, than laughter. The melody sounded like the peel of a bell, brightening the gloomy atmosphere. Many recent events, the doorway, the ruination of her library, and the attack on Ponyville’s citizens, had been a constant, irritating itch in the ach of her mind that refused to abate. The sound of her teachers laugh brought a smile to her own face and, before long, she was joining Celestia in mirth. After her lack of proper sleep, it was a much needed respite to clear away the gloom slowly creeping up on her mind.

The medical barracks was a smaller sky blue tent erected near the back of the sleeping quarters. Most of the furnishings expected for such a center had not yet arrived, so medical supplies were still stacked in boxes on tables. Lying on one of the five beds in back was a disgruntled Night Guard stripped of her armor doing her best to sit still as the doctors examined her. “Are you done yet?” She complained.

“Stop whining, you big baby.” The unicorn doctor ordered and forced her back down on the bed. First Lieutenant Chaser grunted in frustration, forcing herself to not pick at the bandages surrounding her temple. A name tag was clipped onto his pristine lab coat identifying him as “Dr. Hemos.”

“Still enjoying the doctor’s hospitality, Chaser?” Corporal Winds joked.

Lightning moved to stand at attention in the presence of the Princess, but the doctor once again forced her back down on the bed. “Stay still!” and started examining her eyes.

“What is her condition, Doctor?” Celestia asked. The doctor looked up and bowed respectively. Lightning seized the opportunity to try to get out of bed, but the doctor casually thrust out a back hoof to shove her back into bed. She seethed with aggravation, glaring daggers at the doctor.

The doctor removed the clipboard at the foot of Lightning’s bed and began looking through the pages. “The patient was ordered to wait for us by Captain Hawk and undergo a thorough examination; apparently she had a tussle with a creature of the forest or something related to that gateway; nopony tells me nothing.” Dr. Hemos flipped a page and it was punctuated by a thunderclap from outside.

“Most of her wounds are minor contusions and lacerations. She’s got a particularly nasty bruise on her chest and two hairline fractures on her ribs, but they will heal in full within a week if I get the rest of my supplies and perform the proper spells. My real concern is the concussion she suffered gallivanting about the forest. I’m in the process of measuring the damage, but my initial report leads me to suspect it is minor.”

“Very well, doctor. I wish to speak with the First Lieutenant. After which, you may continue with your examination.” Behind Hemos, Lightning facehoofed. The sound made the doctor smile.

“As you wish, Princess. I will leave you alone with the patient.” He replaced the clipboard and exited through the tent flap.

Lightning stuck out her tongue as the tent flaps fluttered. “Insufferable stallion. I wish he would take one of those syringes and stick it right up his—” She stopped her cuss mid thought, remembering who she was accompanying. She brought a hoof to her temple and saluted. “Princess! I apologize for my misconduct in your presence. I—”

“That is quite alright, First Lieutenant,” Celestia chuckled. “I have been informed that you fought a creature who may have had a hoof in recent events.”

The First Lieutenant gave a dry laugh, “Not hoofs, hands. He’s got fingers like gryphons, only without the claws.”

Corporal Winds gasped, “Gryphons!? But—”

“I said like gryphons. Clean the wax out of your ears. Now will you let me finish, Corporal?”

Lightning huffed and addressed Celestia directly. “I don’t know what it was I fought. My best guess would be some kind of ape like those native to Zebrica, but even that doesn’t fit. He wears clothes, has hair only on the top of his head, and only walks on his hind legs. His front legs weren’t built for walking on. They are more for dexterous movements and wielding objects.”

“You keep referring to it as a he. If you don’t know what it is, how are you sure?” Twilight asked. Lightning blinked and her eyes darted to Twilight as if realizing she was there for the first time.

Celestia introduced Twilight to the soldier. “First Lieutenant, this is my student, Twilight Sparkle.”

Her eyes lit up in recognition, her auburn hair bouncing as she shook her head enthusiastically. “It’s a pleasure, Twilight. You’ve got quite the reputation among the guard.” Twilight flushed at the compliment. “As to your question, I don’t know for certain, but I can make a reasonable guess. Tall stature, very heavily muscled, lean build; that doesn’t strike me as a female. I suppose I could have seen his reaction if I gave him a swift buck to the b—” She winced as she cut off her train of thought again.

“Strike two?” she asked timidly.

Celestia nodded and kept her smile, which seem to intimidate the First Lieutenant more. “There will be no strike three.” It wasn’t a question and Lightning nodded emphatically.

“A-a-anyway,” she stuttered before picking up her confidence again. “Whatever he is, he’s a bit of a coward. He’ll fight if he’s backed into a corner or if he believes he can win strongly enough, but he’ll run if he’s not sure of his situation. But if he’s forced to fight, he’ll fight as hard as he can. He put a number on me before our fight got interrupted.

“But the strangest part about him is his powers...” Lightning rubbed her chin in thought, finding the best way to say what needed to be said. “I... hmmm... have you ever heard of the Incantation of Holding?”

Twilight, ever the scholar, spoke up first. “It’s a theoretical spell that can be cast on containers, like bags or boxes, to increase the amount that they can hold without changing the container’s actual shape. But to this date, there have been no successful castings of the spell on record.”

“That’s right,” Lightning agreed. “But maybe not anymore. I’ve seen this creature, with my very own eyes, pull out multiple objects out of nothing and use them. It’s not just small trinkets either; he can store hundreds of pounds of whatever he wants at will. It works both ways, too; he absorbed my helmet and gave me a concussion in thanks.” She picked at the bandages wrapped around her head before shuttering and dropping her hoof; she did not want to receive any more ire from the doctor than she had to.

“Corporal Winds mentioned mentioned this creature was practiced in alchemy. Is this true?”

“Judging from the effects of the civilian in the hospital and what I saw in the forest, I believe so. From what I’ve managed to learn from hearsay, the potion used on the civilian slowed her metabolism and mental faculties to a crawl, but what I saw was vastly different. The creature had a device that could teleport him anywhere he threw it at the cost of harming him in the process. I interrupted him leaving our fight and he got hurt, but after he drank a potion, his wound was healed.”

If this news troubled the Princess, it did not show on her face. “One last question, First Lieutenant. What is the current catalog of what this creature can summon?”

She responded in a beat. “The teleportation stones, the two alchemic potions, sticks, cobblestone, torches, a bow and arrow, and a pickaxe. But if I were to theorize, he cannot conjure any item at will, only store and extract what he has physical access to.”

“Explain, First Lieutenant,” Celestia ordered.

Lightning scratched her chin in thought. “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. There was one other item recovered from the creature: a single iron sword. Since I’m assuming he carried it when he got here, it’s likely his primary weapon. If he could conjure that in our fight, why didn’t he? He might have won if he did.”

“So,” Celestia started to outline. “We have an unknown creature from unknown origins with unknown powers.”

“Well, we don’t want this to be too easy now, do we?” Twilight snarked.

Celestia chuckled again. “I suppose I can’t have everything go the way I want it to.”

Celestia nodded her thanks to the First Lieutenant and exited the tent. Celestia nodded to Dr. Hemos and he trotted back inside. The skies were still darkening and in moments the sky was wetting the ground with a soft drizzle. With a quick flash of her horn, Celestia created a dome to shield her small entourage from the rain. At that moment, the street was flush with the sound of flapping wings.

The group quieted themselves as a chariot flew across the roof of the adjacent building; the magus had returned from his trace in the forest. His pegasus escorts waited for the streets to clear before gently landing in front of the Princess. The magus stepped off the chariot in one smooth motion and gave delivered a practiced bow to Celestia. The guards, being leashed to the chariot, only nodded their heads.

The magus was a sandy brown unicorn with acid-green eyes and the black cloak given to one of the Council of Magic with two silver pips on his collar. He lifted his head and introduced himself in a cultured accent native to Canterlot, “Good morning and salutations, Princess Celestia. I am Diamond Solitaire, Magus of the Council of Magic, Second Class.”

“Good morning, Mr. Solitaire. What have you to report?” Celestia extended her bubble to envelop him and the pair of guards, who all nodded thankfully.

Diamond Solitaire laid eyes on Twilight and his image faltered ever so slightly before returning to Celestia. “Ahhhhh, forgive me, Your Highness, but perhaps we should remove this discussion away from prying eyes?”

Celestia’s lips curled slightly, the only external sign of her mirth. “Twilight is my personal protégé and trusted confidant. Anything that may be spoken in my presence will not be hidden from her.”

Diamond nodded. “Very well then, Princess. But perhaps can we speak inside? I’m afraid my report may stretch to lengths unsuited to our current setting. Plus, the other magi are quite adamant in their opinion that I ramble ad nauseum.”

Corporal Winds led the group inside the barracks and into one of the back rooms. After kicking out the staff and posting a guard, the unusual group of ponies had some peace. Diamond Solitaire surveyed the room and, after finding it to his satisfaction, started his report. “Have you been informed of the preliminary findings pertaining to the gateway, Highness?”

“The magi suspect that something other than traditional magic was involved,” Celestia stated.

“Correct. As absurd as the facts may be, that appears to be the case. Now, as I touched down in First Lieutenant Chaser’s battleground, I performed the usual spell checks first. Spell and trap detection, tracer spells to hopefully identify any unicorns,--” Diamond Solitaire stopped his train of thought. After a second of holding his chin in thought, he continued. “The abridged version is that I detected the same two additional magic types near the duel. I believe it is safe to assume that the intruder who battled the Night Guard came through the gateway.”

“Hold on, you said near?” Twilight questioned.

“Ah, allow me to rephrase, Ms. Sparkle. While one of the magics was focused on the riverbank where First Lieutenant Chaser staged her duel, the other was focused directly around it, but not on the riverbank itself.”

“For the most prudent question, Mr. Solitaire,” Celestia asked, “what is the likelihood of a creature possessing multiple types of magic?” Celestia asked.

“Well, the chances of that occurring are very difficult to predict; nothing of the sort has been officially recorded. It is theoretically possible that a creature such as the one described to me by the Royal Guard could possess such a trait, but the tale of Ms. Chaser makes that possibility quite slim. An entity may very well be able to control, or at least contain, multiple magics. Such a feat would be exponentially more difficult for every separate type of magic, but, as I said, it is only theoretical. Unless I am mistaken and--”

“Mr. Solitaire?” Celestia interrupted.

Diamond Solitaire blinked in surprise. “Oh, do forgive me, I appear to have gone off on quite the tangent. Now, can a creature have multiple types of magic? Possible, but improbable. I might be able to believe a creature could have two under the given circumstances, but my professional opinion is that three is not within the realm of possibility. This is supported by finding disproportion quantities of the both ambient magic and the two foreign magics at the waterfall.”

“What does this mean, then?” Twilight questioned.

“It means, Ms. Sparkle, that there was somepony, or more likely, something, watching First Lieutenant Chaser’s duel. It means that, despite our search, he, she, or it has remained completely undetected until now.”

“It means that we have more than one uninvited guest.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Cor Thunder, Material Defender, Wolfmaster1337

Chapter 8: Flight

Chapter 8: Flight

I take back every nice thing I said about this place. Every. Single. Thing.

AND GET THESE MONSTERS AWAY FROM ME!

Now that I got that out of the way, onto the next piece of my chronicle.

I awoke in my chamber about an hour after dawn. I guessed it was an hour after dawn; I was not certain how to accurately measure time in this world. Other than having my body’s own internal clock thrown off balance, I felt well. I, fortunately, rested without dreams to plague my thoughts, be they good or ill. I needed the rest to calm my thoughts.

One of the lurking doubts I had before I settled myself in last night was that I would panic when I woke up the following morning. I would believe that last night’s experiences and trials were naught but a deluded concoction of my unconscious mind, abruptly revealed to be all-too real with a few moments of examination.

That was not the case. I awoke from my slumber with all my faculties intact. I was calm. I accepted my situation as reality without any noticeable error. I did not like what happened, but I was at peace with myself.

I had a lingering doubt that my calm state of mind would not last, that it was a product of pieces of my mind still shaking off the vestiges of unconsciousness. Even if that was the case, I had work to do. Since I was away from my supplies, I needed to catalog what I had.

I made short work of it; the motions were one of my routines. I had 126 blocks of cobblestone, 64 blocks of wood, 20 sticks, a worn set of flint and steel, 2 iron pickaxes, an iron shovel, an iron axe, a bucket, a workbench, a furnace, 15 lumps of coal, 20 torches, a bow, 25 arrows, 16 iron ingots, 25 blocks of unrefined iron ore, 4 blocks of unrefined gold ore, 12 loaves of bread, a single Potion of Swiftness, and a single Ender Pearl.

I’ve survived on less before. On the other hand, I had not faced such tenacious beasts like last night, either. My skills would be put to the test, stressed to their limit no matter the outcome. I needed to pay special attention to my surroundings. Only one more Pearl to spare. Only one chance to get out of death free. No more fear. Danger could be in every shadow. I must be strong, I must refuse to show fear like last night.

I quickly dug myself out of my makeshift sanctuary, stepped into the light of the forest morning. Due to the thick canopy, there wasn’t much light to guide myself, but it was plentiful compared to last night. I stretched my limbs to their limit and turned around, ready to examine my new surroundings in greater detail...

...And found myself face-to-ugly-face with a green scaled creature 50 times my size and growling with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.

Well... shit.

I immediately conjured my bow and fired an arrow, which harmlessly ricocheted off of its scaly hide. The creature looked surprised. Not that something attacked it, but something smaller had the gall to attack it. I did the only rational thing I could have done in that situation; turn tail and run like a coward.

The beast roared in fury and followed, not only keeping pace, but catching up in a few, brief strides. That’s not to say I was particularly slow; running from creepers for several millennia builds stamina. I am no doubt a swift sprinter, but the sheer size and girth of the beast made overtaking me an easy chore.

I flailed wildly as I was picked up in a large, scaly hand. The beast held me close to its snout, examining me like some bug under observation. My mind flashed back to the winged beast last night. It was shrewd, wily even. This creature, however, felt animalistic and primal. I detected an intelligence in its manner of movement, but it was, first and foremost, a creature of instinct.

I acted fast. One hand was pinned between myself and the creature’s scales, but my other was free. I conjured my pickaxe and, with a mighty heave, brought it down on the creature’s hand. I didn’t even scratch the scale, but the shock of the blow made it emit a cry of pain and open its palm.

I landed on my feet and started running for all I was worth. I knew I was fast, but the beast was far too large to fight on my own. I did not have the armor or resources to even contemplate how to vanquish such an intimidating foe. My only hope at that time was to flee deeper into the forest to the larger trees, praying all the while it could not maneuver so well in closer quarters.

The beast’s pain was inconsequential with its bulk, so it recovered swiftly. I had not gained much ground, only fifteen feet at best. I raced to the trees with every ounce of strength I could muster. I could always drink my last potion and flee, but I needed to hold out. These beasts were far more deadly than any I had ever faced. Their will, wiles, and strength matched or even surpassed my own. If I was not careful and partition my resources accordingly, I could easily end up dead. I felt a powerful need to use my potion or the pearl, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I must wait for the last possible moment.

The beast moved with haste now that I attacked it twice and escaped an equal many times. I heard the crashing of brush and trees and deep, guttural cries of anger as it pursued me. I could keep running, but the odds were not in my favor. I did not know this forest or the creatures inhabiting it. I was stumbling blind through every instance, every obstacle I encountered so far. What I needed to do was stop running scared.

I needed to fight back.

A plan formed in my head. I was smaller than this creature. It underestimated me once. It might do so again. I wanted to put that to the test.

Coming upon a particularly large tree, I replaced my pickaxe with my regular wood axe. I waited for the right moment and jump, using my axe’s magic to cut two chunks of wood out of the tree; just enough for me to squeeze through. If I could not shake the creature, I could make the path as difficult as possible to traverse. I jumped through the hole and immediately heard a large, splintering crash.

Taking a quick peek, I was rather stunned to find physics not working the way I expected them to once again. The sections of the tree I did not cut down did not remain stationary like they do in the Overworld, but had sunk to fill the void I created. The splintering had come into play when the tree started listing to far to the side and crashed down on the beast.

Well... that wasn’t supposed to happen. Not that I was complaining, of course.

The reptile groaned and started to come to, shaking its head to clear the daze my unintended blow inflicted. I did not wish to waste my newfound head-start on the beast, so I promptly performed the only rational thing I could have done: chop down another tree and make sure it falls on the beast.

I selected another one, this time with more girth to hopefully increase the creature’s recovery time enough for me to escape. After a few swings of my axe, the magic took effect. My axe embedded itself in the tree, converting the dense wood to energy for me to absorb. The bulky trunk crashed down to fill the void. The tree was listing dangerously, but I felt confident I could direct its fall. Gritting my teeth in effort, I pushed against the tree with all my might. My feet started to slide in the dirt, ripping through the tiny roots of grass that gave me traction in the first place.

I stumbled, but got right back up again. The beast was conscious and had its eyes on me once again. The creature would not be able to react, however; I had succeeded in tipping the tree in the proper direction. The massive oak came crashing down on the beast, causing it to issue another cry of pain and protest.

It lashed at the trees pinning its body to the ground. The smaller one rolled off with a little struggle on its part, but the larger and more recent tree proved to be more difficult to remove.

I did not overstay my welcome any more than necessary. As soon as I confirmed the beast was occupied, I continued my trek away from the beast.

...And straight into another one one hundred meters away. For having just defeated an impressively large creature, one far larger than I had ever seen, I was not willing to press my luck with any more duels or excitement.

A beast jumped out of the brush with surprising agility considering its bulk, which I barely had the time to dive out of the way to avoid. While the scaly beast was swift, that was only due to its immense size. The other beast’s muscles were taut and lean, preferring speed over raw power. It’s bone and musculature were oddly feline, but instead of a furred tail, it had an armored tail that ended with a barb.

The creature growled and swiped at me with a clawed paw that I narrowly avoided. The creature’s tail whistled through the air, the bard dripping with a clear, viscous liquid. I was reminded of the venom I would see dripping from the maws of the cave spiders. It was something that was prudent to avoid, then.

I ducked under the stinger and it crashed into a tree instead. The barb was wedged in deep; I wanted to keep it there. I conjured up some wood and placed it around the creature’s tail, locking it in place. It might force it out soon, but it would buy just enough time to escape.

The creature roared when it realized it could not escape my makeshift trap and swiped its clawed paw at me. I jumped over the attack and it left deep gouges in another one of the trees. I wasn’t going to press my luck and fight the beast.

I was running for a good three minutes before I accidentally kicked a chicken.

That sentence looks weird now that I look at it.

It gave a squawk of indignation and... slithered toward me.

Huh. Also weird.

It was a tiny creature with the head of a chicken a body similar in build to the scaled creature, only on a much smaller scale. The chicken was glaring at me... somehow, but it was far too small to be a real threat. I wished to keep my pace brisk, but my legs refused to work properly. I looked down and gasped. They were stone!

My left arm soon followed the same curse, turning a shade of gray and refusing to move. It was a fantastic notion, but I could not deny what was happening to me. I was being turned into stone.

Oh, you little cheater.

The chicken was my third consecutive monster in five minutes and I was sick of that crap. I swung my arm at the chicken in a wide arc. It was too far away to punch, so I conjured a shovel mid-swing and smacked it right in the head. It shouted a surprised squawk and fell on its side, unconscious. Without its caster to command the spell, the stone receded and my limbs returned to my control.

I’m going to break away from my recount for a moment, but come on! Is there anything on this planet not trying to kill me!?

I had enough of the monsters. I was sick and tired of being attacked all the damned time. Leaving the chicken where it lay, I started running once more before the ground collapsed underneath me feet.

Fate must have hated me. I hated it in return.

I landed in a crouch in a stone tunnel while dust and debris fell around me. It wasn’t that far of a drop, so once the debris halted, I lifted my head to survey my new environment. I was in a tunnel that extended deeper underground. I saw light leaking into the tunnel from above, but I was more than hesitant to return. What kind of hellhole was that place? What I didn’t accidentally stumble on that wanted to kill me was seeking me out to kill me.

And the allure of tunneling once more was indeed great. I felt at home under the moist ground and cold tunnels, digging for ore and diamonds. I’d swing my axe from side to side, not minding the grueling task and doing it for the sheer pleasure of it alone. That happened often: I would dig even if I didn’t need the ore.

It was settled. I would proceed underground.

I conjured a torch in one hand and set a course for the dark. There was nothing of interest for the longest time save for a scent becoming stronger and stronger I ventured deeper. It was dry and musty, almost stale, and mixed with the faint scent of moisture. I was still close to the surface, so I didn’t think much of it.

The contour of the tunnels, however, were of great interest to me. They were not structure with cubes, but with the same curves and contorted lines. The tunnel proceeded at a low downward grade and I started to see odd stone formations. They resembled sharp teeth, with one pointing up and another pointing downward directly at its twin. Odd indeed.

What struck me as even more peculiar was that, despite such an extensive tunnel, I did not see any coal. Coal was quite common at such a shallow depth. I couldn’t be more than five meters below the surface, but perhaps the different physics had something to do with it. Everything else operated on a different set of rules, so I do not see why ore should appear at depths consistent with the Overworld.

Stupid moon. No, I’m not over that.

At a depth of seven or eight meters, the tunnel widden and split into three paths. Wanting to not lose track of my path, I placed my torch in the dirt and conjured another. I took a step, and immediately stopped myself. So far, the beasts were intelligent enough to track me over large distances. If, by chance, my path could be tracked into the underground, I did not wish to help their hunt. Begrudgingly, I put my torch away and picked up the other one. I would just need to know my path by memory.

I have a terrible memory, so any mental exercise should be interesting.

The central pathway I had taken continued to grow wider and wider, as did that dry, dusty smell. Dust followed me in a fine cloud wherever I traveled, disturbed after a long and fitless rest. I could not tell for sure how long the caverns were unoccupied; there was always the chance that they were filled at some point. There was no way to know without more information pertaining to that new world. There could have been something behind me at that very moment for all I knew, quietly judging my every move.

I do not need the paranoia. Shut up brain.

The tunnel kept on widening, soon becoming a spacious ten meters in width. I had still not detected any signs of habitation. No lights, no sounds from the void, no marks on the ground. I was alone, and that time I wanted it to stay that way.

I progressed further still. The wall to my left opened up to a massive chamber, one so large I could not even fathom how far away the other side could be. I felt the faint compulsion to explore the dark, to light up the chamber with torches and decorate the walls with paintings and intricate patterns of stone and wood. I could create a massive structure to occupy the entire chamber composed entirely of the strong and healthy wood from the trees of the forest above.

But despite my longing to build, I knew in my heart that I could not. I needed sanctuary, and a permanent one for that matter, to fall back on. It needed to be sealed away from the monsters and madness above, away from the tall and regal sovereign, away from the cunning and deadly warrior.

Away from the Nether Portal, the last remnant of my home.

I needed to toughen myself. I needed to believe, not in my head, but my heart, that I would not be returning to the Overworld if I was to survive.

Could I? Maybe. I may yet in time. But while wandering those caves, I could not afford the luxury of hope. I needed to survive before I could hope. Hope would come later. I needed to steel myself.

I could not return home. I could not enjoy short days of mining and building. I could not rest easy at dusk, having neutralized the creatures stalking the night. I could not tame the beasts to provide my needs. I could not walk with faith that I could defend myself against any threat.

The world was a strange place that needed to be understood. After I build a last line of defense, I must study the beasts of the land and discover their ways. In time.

Oh crap, something found me.

I did not immediately notice the light coming toward me from the mammoth cavern. It was flying through the air on a direct course to me. With me holding the only other light source in the dark, pinpointing my location proved to be an easy feat. I set my torch on the ground and conjured my pickaxe, preparing to meet my next obstacle. Soon enough, the creature wielding the light came into focus.

The creature appeared to be a hybrid of the flying creature, and the grounded creatures I saw in town upon arrival to this world. It possessed the same basic musculature as all the other creatures, but where it differed was the wings. I’ve only seen two creatures with wings up close, the soldier and the sovereign. This creature was too small to be a kin to the sovereign, but it didn’t have the leathery wings of the soldier, either. The creature’s fur and feathers were all a bright white where it wasn’t covered by burnished gold armor with an accompanying helmet marked with three horizontal bars. It was quite similar to the soldier at the waterfall in terms of design.

I saw what was blinding me next: the creature wore atop its helmet a crown inset with a single glowing red gemstone that illuminated everything in twenty feet of the creature. Putting a hand to block out the direct light, I glanced at the creature’s face.

I stumbled back in terror. I didn’t know what I was looking. It couldn’t have been a real creature; nothing could contain the amount of misery and rage painted on that creature’s face. Pain, hatred, bloodlust, wrath, anger, revenge, loneliness, sadism; the creature locked eyes with me with enough horror to fulfill a thousand lifetimes. Its eyes held evil, its smile forged from pure, unrelenting malevolence. There was something... wrong with what I was seeing. That level of desire to inflict unrepentant torment could not be contained in the body of any mere mortal. It was not right. It was not natural. It was not a beast or creature as I understand them, it was a monster. It was an abomination born of sorrow, not blood and bone.

I was scared for my life. Every single fiber of my being screamed to run, but, alas, I could not. It was not like being back in the Darkness when I left the Overworld where some external stimuli prevented me from fleeing. No, it was pure, undiluted fear. I was too frightened to stay in this creature’s presence, but I could not muster the mental faculties to use my legs properly.

The monster folded its wings and landed in the tunnel. Without my hand blocking the light of its gem, I could no longer see its face. If I was to die, that would have been preferable; I did not want to gaze at the monster any longer than I must. I heard its hooves clopping as it drew closer. In the empty tunnels and gaping void only right in front of me, the sound was thunder in my ears. It matched my rapid pants and frantic heartbeat in a perverse rythme.

The monster tapped its gemstone crown twice and the light dimmed. The creature walked to a pace in front of me, but made no further movements. I was watching the ground, determined to not look back at the monster and see its terrifying visage.

I was going to die. No more acts of kindness to aid me. No--

NO!

No more whimpering Crafter. No more sniveling in fear. I had dealt with the monsters above, I could fight the monsters below. I have killed Endermen. I have tamed an entire world, shaping it to my will and desires. I’ve built empires and destroyed them, all with my own hands.

I would not fall so easily to the creature.

I conjured my bow and knocked an arrow in one deft movement. My aim was shaking horribly; I was more likely to fire a shot into the empty cavern behind the monster than at it.

The creature held a surprised but serene smile. Gone was the murderous desire and, in its place, the creature held the look of calm curiosity. Then, out of nowhere, the monster’s smile widened, it waved a hoof in greetings, and it turned around.

I was stunned. My arms were still shaking too bad to deliver a clean shot and the flickering light of my fallen torch proved to be less and less useful as it walked off, but I could have had at least tried to fire. Why did it walk away? Why did it spread its wings and fly off into the darkness, leaving a crying and trembling Crafter? Why come at all? What happened? What was that thing?

In short, why was I alive?

I counted to 100 before I finally lowered my bow. My muscles ached at holding the string’s tension for such an extended period of time. I shook it off; I needed to leave that place on the off chance that thing decided to return.

Instead of proceeding down the tunnel as I had before, I decided a more direct route was in order. Storing my bow, I picked up my torch and conjured my pickaxe. I was going to dig my way out.

I started swinging away at the wall of the tunnel, my pickaxe’s magic converting bits and pieces of stone into energy. I did not want to replace the smooth stone wall with cobblestone; that would be easily noticeable and I was tired of being one step behind these beasts. However, even though I had the materials necessary to create smooth stone, my recent experience with the monster in gold armor made the decision to flee a far more appealing option. I sealed the opening with cobblestone, but I would need to return eventually to perfect the subterfuge.

I kept on digging a horizontal pathway through the stone and earth, but it was not exclusively so. I encountered several mineral veins containing materials I had never seen before in my life. I discovered dozens, if not hundreds, of gemstones perfectly cut and ready to be mined, all just set in stone and waiting for me to take them.

Just how many types of stones where there, I did not know. I saw red ones, green ones, blue, white, violet; for any color I had ever seen, for every color under the sun, I discovered a gemstone matching its hue. Not a single one bore a flaw and it was a marvel to behold. Each discovery forced me to bring it up to the light of my torch for analysis, and each time I discovered no flaw and stored it away. I was not sure what I could use such stones for, but with a little experimenting, I could find a use like I had found for diamonds.

Speaking of, I was absolutely giddy with excitement over the sheer number of diamonds I was unearthing. I had accumulated hundreds of unidentified gemstones, and several of them were diamonds. I could create many good tools and armor out of diamond. After only twenty minutes of digging (and gem staring, to my embarrassment), I had uncovered fifteen diamonds. I could finally create a good sword to replace the one I lost.

My tunneling came to an end after my pick opened up a cavern thick with the scent of dust and stale air. I was only two meters above the closest stable platform, so I jumped down, held up my torch, and examined my surroundings once again.

At about 20 meters tall, 70 meters wide, and 100 across, it was quite the spacious cavern. The wall were lined with various ores and gemstones I did not recognize, along with a few veins of diamond ore. That got me excited; I was still not used to seeing diamonds this close to the surface. The light of my torch reflected off most of the gemstones, scattering its flickering glow to the farthest reaches of the cavern. It was quite the enchanting sight to see and gave me ideas for future lighting methods.

The terrain was rugged and difficult to navigate, filled with jagged rocks and a few precipices reaching deeper into the earth. The holes could be filled easily enough; all I needed to do was seal the cracks with cobblestone. The stone outcroppings would need to be cleared, but that was easy.

Deep under the ground, I began working once again, this time to build a home away from home.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Deathscar

Chapter 10: Beauty and the Beast

Chapter 10: Beauty and the Beast

“M’Lady? Is something amiss?”

Princess Cadance snapped out of her stupor. After holding open court for two hours, Cadance was weary, but her work was far from over. There were reports all over the study room along with other documents pertaining to state affairs. Each one was critically important, but one in specific caught her attention merely due to its proximity to home.

It had been almost two days right down to the hour since the portal over Ponyville first appeared. Reports from the village had started streaming in the next day, yesterday: a dormant gateway, damage to all of Ponyville, and a runaway creature that somehow managed to escape from Princess Luna herself. At dawn today, she was receiving reports of a second portal and the high probability of a second creature.

Cadance had been resisting the urge to travel to Ponyville herself. Being as she was the Princess of Love, she was often the first choice to be sent on errands of mercy or settlements facing some form of disaster. But with the presence of a military garrison, Princess Luna, and Princess Celestia, there was enough ponypower to deal with pretty much any crisis Ponyville had to offer, and besides, somepony needed to stay and sort through the rest of the nation’s affairs.

“I just have a lot to think about, Butterscotch,” Cadance replied. Not often had the crown known so much, and yet so little. It was frustrating to have so many pieces of the puzzle, yet still have no idea what the picture looked like. Two creatures, and two portals; what was going on in Ponyville?

“I understand, M’Lady,” Butterscotch replied. Butterscotch, like all of Princess Cadance’s hoofmaidens, wore a black and white maid dress. At sixteen years old, the filly was the youngest on staff. Butterscotch was incredibly perky and very eager to please, and after Cadance performed the standard background check, she discovered the source of Butterscotch’s enthusiasm. When Cadance pulled her records, she discovered Butterscotch was funneling her past paychecks to her family back in Manehatten. They lived in the Lower Quarter, the poorer section of town, and her job was sustaining their household. Cadance couldn’t help herself and hired the poor girl on the spot.

Princess Cadance used her magic and lifted a cup of tea to her lips. Normally, she didn’t have drinks other than water so late in the evening, but she desperately needed the calming aroma and taste of her favorite raspberry tea. After a brief sip of the piping hot liquid, Cadance gave a mewl of pleasure, “Wonderful tea, as always.” Butterscotch beamed in pleasure.

Begrudgingly, Cadance got out of her chair, set down her tea, and started opening files. The Griffon emissary currently residing in Canterlot had sent word to his homeland via dragonfire with all information he gathered about the portal and the events surrounding it. Needless to say, the Griffon Emperor promptly sent a reply, demanding Equestria to open its borders and allow them to study the portal themselves. Cadance set that report in a pile meant for matters that needed to be resolved immediately. She could not help but sigh as she did so; she did not look forward to having to deal with the Emperor if he found out that another portal had just been discovered.

The next report was on troop deployments in Canterlot and the surrounding provinces. There were logistics to oversee and administer: shipping food, negotiating prices for food, partitioning troops to protect cities and critically important places, feeding said troops, reserving troops in the instance of extreme hazards and crises, and paying the troops. Cadance did not like having to deal with so many numbers so late in the afternoon, but that report joined its predecessor on the “Resolve right now” pile.

The third report was an overview of the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala. It outlined the sponsors of the weekend, the guestlist, musicians, and caterers. Cadance had petitioned for Applejack to be responsible for catering, but had been quietly, but politely, denied. Despite them being personal friends to the Princesses and national heroes, the stigma cast on them from Equestria’s upper class ran deep. Most of the matters of the gala were settled, so that file was deposited in a pile for less important affairs.

Princess Cadance couldn’t help but sigh and levitate her tea to her lips once again. Three reports, and already she was using her tea like a crutch. After another sip, she set it down once more and rubbed her eyes.

“M’Lady, shall I prepare your quarters?”

“That is quite alright, Butterscotch,” Cadance replied, knowing it would not help either way. For the past two days, her dreams were plagued by darkness and laughter. She had woken up with her bedding in shambles and pains throughout her body due to tossing and turning in her sleep. Cadance could not help but feel the stirrings of fear in the back of her mind; ever since her wedding, she had been having sporadic panic attacks, sometimes in public places...

Only last week, when she had toured Canterlot’s goodwill foundations, she faced the sudden and inexplicable wrath of an attack. She was halfway through her visit to the state-run Canterlot Orphanage, distributing presents and toys, when she felt her throat close up. She quickly extracted herself from the laughs and wide eyes of fillies, all excited to see a princess in the flesh, and found the nearest adult.

“Excuse me,” she had asked the superintendent. “If I may, where is the mare’s room?” It was a pitiful excuse, but respect for royalty ran deep in Canterlot’s blood.

“Down the hall and to the left, Your Highness.”

Cadance tried her best to remain calm, but the waterworks started running as soon as she turned her back to the crowd. Hot, salty tears streamed down her face as she trotted down the hall. She was fighting hoof and nail to bolt as fast as her legs could carry her, but her internal struggle did not go unnoticed. The guards, clued in to her behavior by her sudden request and confirmed by her tears, swiftly followed their charge down the corridor.

“M’Lady, are you--”

“Get Shiny. Bring me *sniff* the Captain.” Shining Armor always requested to be assigned to her entourage when possible, but was usually denied due to his duties to Canterlot security. It was one of the rare times he was accepted.

The Guard hesitated, but his wingpony nudged him in the ribs to obey. The Guard scampered off to find the Captain, leaving his wingpony to deal with a distraught Princess.

“Highness, is there anything--”

“No. Just...,” she trailed off and hiccuped. Her breathing was coming coming in short, ragged gasps. “Just-- *sniff* wait here until Shining comes.” Cadance turned the corner and, upon seeing nopony in the hallway, ran to the bathroom as fast as her legs could carry her.

The Guard Pony waited in the hallway with clear concern for his mistress in his eyes, but he obeyed nonetheless. Cadance stumbled into the bathroom and huddled in the corner. Violent sobs wracked her body. She hid her head under her legs, trying to block out all external stimuli in an attempt to regain control. The tears still flowed, her breathing was frantic, and she was quickly enveloped in a fine layer of sweat from exertion.

The door opened. Shining Armor stepped into the mare’s room and saw his wife on the floor, hair disheveled and eyes red from crying. She looked up at the noise, scared of the thought of a civilian seeing her in such a vulnerable state. Before she could say anything, Shining Armor had ran to his wife and embraced her where she lay.

Shining did not need his wife’s words to understand her distress, only know that she was in pain and needed his help. For the next several minutes, he held his wife tight to his chest as she cried, quietly stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear...

Cadance was visiting the finest psychologists bits could buy and had the comfort of her husband whenever duty did not call him elsewhere. For now, all she could do to cope was to stay busy.

Well, there were other ways to cope.

“Butterscotch?”

“Yes, M’Lady?”

“By chance, do you know if Captain Shining Armor is off duty?”

Butterscotch smiled; it was only a matter of time until Princess Cadance would ask that question, “He is, M’Lady. His shifted ended an hour ago, if memory serves.”

Cadance smiled, “Send him here, please.”

Princess had filtered through seven more files before Butterscotch returned with the captain of the Royal Guard. Cadance gave a happy smile upon seeing her husband. Being as they were in the company of another, despite Butterscotch being Cadance’s personal hoofmaiden, the happy couple settled in favor of a hug instead of anything more intimate.

Cadance returned to her desk and wrote a brief note. She gave it to Butterscotch, telling her, “I will be fine for the rest of the day, Butterscotch. Take your break early.”

Butterscotch smiled in delight, “Thank you, M’Lady.” Butterscotch quietly excused herself and left the two to their own devices.

Cadance gave Shining an affectionate nuzzle, “How are you this evening, dear?”

“Very well.” Shining returned the display of affection. “It’s good to finally have time alone with you, Cadance.”

The two of them exited Cadance’s study, their words devolving into idle chatter and recent events, the biggest, of course, being on both of their minds.

“Twily has been working with Princess Celestia and the Council of Magic to discover what’s going on. I heard she’s been quite the industrious filly. She’s said she’s going to send a letter tomorrow and explain all she’s found out so far.”

“Mare, honey. Twilight’s all grown up now, with friends to help her and a town to protect,” Cadance lay her head against Shining’s neck and curled her tail against his own. Shining was concerned about the open display of affection, but after a quick scan of Canterlot’s grand, open hallways, he discovered that they were clear.

Shining sighed, “It’s hard to let go of my memories of her. I always remembered her as this shy little thing that always smiled when I came to Canterlot Castle.” Shining closed his eyes in fond remembrance of pleasant memories. Ever since the return of Nightmare Moon, Equestria had become quite rambunctious. It was pleasant to remember simpler times, times when a brother and sister could sit down with their family over a nice and relaxing meal or a foalsitter enjoying a stroll in the park with her favorite charge. Cadance joined Shining in his recollection, folding a wing over his back as they walked down the grand halls.

“I remember the last time I saw her before she left for Ponyville. She was reading some works of Starswirl the Bearded and saw mention of celestial alignments and the magic they hold. My little Twily; that’s what I remember. When I saw her next, she was a national hero that saved Equestia twice.” Shining chuckled wryly. “I’m the older brother; I’m supposed to protect her.”

“Things change, husband.” She tenderly kissed Shining’s throat. Shining flushed and was about to protest, but Cadance reached up with a hoof to silence him. “Sometimes for the worse, but now it is for the better. She’s grown into a fine mare with so many friends to bless her. She needed to learn to survive without her brother eventually. Be proud she grew into a wonderful pony.”

Shining smiled and gave Cadance a chaste kiss. “I am proud. She’s no longer the shut-in I remember, but one of the most courageous and resourceful ponies I know. I couldn’t ask for a better sister.”

“Neither could I.” Cadance smiled and returned her head to Shining’s warm shoulder. She spent the next few moments with her eyes closed, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

They soon approached a T intersection in the corridor. Shining was about to turn left to head to his own quarters, but Cadance, with a devilish smirk on her lips, bumped her rump against him to distract him and pull him to the right.

“Cadance, wha--” Shining was cut off as Cadance removed her wing and embraced him in a deep kiss. Shining’s eyes widened in surprise; his wife had never attempted such a provocative display of affection before, especially in a public place. Stunning him even further, Cadance ran her tongue across his lips, leaving the lingering trace of raspberries.

Cadance pulled away, smiling. Shining couldn’t help it; he was... excited by this sudden turn of events.

“My room,” She whispered.

“Your room?”

“Well, Canterlot’s stewart can’t be seen in another’s quarter’s at this time of day now, can she?”

The doors to Cadance’s private chamber flung open. Cadance and Shining stumbled inside, neither being able to walk correctly with their forelegs wrapped around each other’s neck and their lips locked together.

Cadance’s slipper caught an unkempt corner of the carpet and she tripped head over hoof, taking her beloved down with her. Shining ended up on top of his wife and, with a big smile, she pulled him down into another kiss.

By the time they parted, both were panting for breath and blushing furiously. A playful smirk crossed Cadance’s lips and, with a kick off her hoof, closed the door to her chambers.

“What of your hoofmaidens?” Shining asked. Events were proceeding faster than he had anticipated, but he did not deny he was excited by his wife’s boldness.

“I left a note with Butterscotch telling them to take their breaks early.” She gave him a brief kiss that ended in her nibbling his lower lip. Shining could stop himself and he let out a soft groan. “We have the next hour or two to ourselves.”

Shining smiled. His wife normally wasn’t this flirtatious, but he found himself enjoying this side of her. Deciding to take the reigns in events, Shining used his magic to lift Cadance in the air. She gave a squeak of surprise, but upon discovering that he was carrying her to the bed, her smile only widened.

Her chambers were simply, but richly, adorned. Separated by a masterwork set of floating iron buttresses, her room was divided into a study and sleeping quarters. Having only occupied them since the yesterday morning, very little of her personal effects were present. However, the room was still decorated to suit dignitaries; all the furniture was made from mahogany and polished to a shine. Shining Armor would have taken a little more time to appreciate the room as he usually did, but he was rather preoccupied at the moment.

He gently set his wife down on the hoof-stitched comforter and crawled into bed with her. Greeting her once again with a delicate kiss, their hooves started exploring each other. Every caress, every stroke, made the pair moan into the kiss more and more fervently and their tongues dance together.

They broke away from their kiss once more. For a moment, the only stared into each other’s eyes. Their chests were heaving up and down for air in unison, both from lack of breath and arousal. A strand of saliva hung off Shining’s lips, though it was just as likely Cadance’s as it was his.

Shining continued his assault, planting a kiss firmly on Cadance’s lips before proceeding down her cheek and jaw. Shining Armor went further still and left a trail of kisses down Cadance’s throat and to her collarbone, smiling as his wife released a soft moan of contentment at his ministrations. She soon giggled when he brushed by a particularly sensitive spot, “You haven’t kissed me with a beard before. It tickles.”

Shining responded by giving a devilish grin. “I know another use for it.” And he proceeded to slide down to her nether regions.

“Oh! Ah! That tickles...Ah... Ah! Mmmm...... Yes...” Cadance began writing under her husband’s ministrations, moaning and gasping as her pleasure began to peak. She could feel her peak coming closer and closer and her back arched in response. Her wings splayed open, twitching as she lost control over her actions in her lustful haze. Her chest heaved faster and faster until she finally reached her climax.

Shining looked up as his wife’s body began to spasm and convulse in delight. After one final shudder, she slumped to her bed in a heap, panting in effort.

Shining crawled up the bed to face his wife. She pulled Shining up to her head and kissed him fully on his wet lips, “Take me.”

Shining returned the kiss and slid a hoof up her thigh. Cadance moaned once more as Shining reached his goal, both of their minds clouded with lust and eagerness. She gave a whine of disappointment as he removed his hoof, but smiled as Shining moved down her luscious body once more.

Far from Canterlot Castle, far from the passionate embrace of two lovers locked in their room, tension infested the mind of the Royal Guardpones on the city walls like some infectious plague. Tempers were short and mistakes, no matter how small, were intolerable. Many ponies would have objected to their CO’s shortness with them, considering the number aerial scouts and Farseers had been doubled, but none could muster the courage.

Lieutenant Buckler was Captain Armor’s second in command and highest ranking officer until the captain returned to duty the following morning. Having been trained by Captain Armor himself, the Lieutenant did his best to mimic the captain’s behaviors and patterns. But that didn’t stop the situation from eating at his courage in the early hours of the night.

He’d gone over it himself and with other soldiers in brief chats; no matter what, he could not comprehend any beneficial means for not one, but two portals appearing within spitting distance of Canterlot, the crown jewel of Equestria. It’s no wonder that, as soon as the other portal was discovered, the Princesses immediately gave the order to dismantle the first portal.

“Anything new, Sergeant Stone?” The Lieutenant asked.

The Sergeant Stone gave a wry grin, “About guard duty or what be really on yer mind, Captain?”

He gave a sardonic laugh, “Either.”

“Well, the old codgers are ready n’ worried, the young’ins are ready n’ eager, n’ everypony’s got an eye on the south. As fer what the Princesses be doin’, hadn’t heard a peep since the last report. Now stop askin’; I be graying early with your knickers in a twist as they are.” The Sergeant joked.

“I’m sorry friend, I can’t help but worry.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that; these be trying times for all ponies. We been through Nightmare Moon, Discord, and dem changlings; we’ll survive whatever this is---”

“Lieutenant!” A voice called from the battlements.

Lieutenant Buckler and Sergeant Stone both scrambled up the stairs and up one of the towers. As the two ponies exited the tower and stepped out onto the observation deck, they spotted other ponies on the other towers making similar commotion. “Report!” Lieutenant Buckler ordered.

The tower’s Farseer spoke up, “Private Skies, Lieutenant. I was just doing my job until I saw a purple light and a whole lot of movement. After a few seconds of that, nothing. Down there.” Skies pointed a hoof to a large clump of trees and greenery near the front gate.

“Sergeant,” The Lieutenant’s voice was devoid of the familiarity and jocular attitude he displayed only moments before. Seeing as the situation was indeed no suited for more familiar actions and terms of endearment, Sergeant Stone straightened his posture and waited for orders. “Take a team and investigate. You!” He pointed to a pegasus bearing the rank of corporal “Take a team and close the gates. After that, scour the streets of Canterlot in case we may have a possible intruder. And you!” He pointed to a second Corporal, “Find the Captain of the Royal Guard and request he report to me.”

Three voices responded in unison, “At once!”

Sergeant Stone and his team of seven cautiously landed near Canterlot’s front gate. Stone tapped his chest and touched the ground, the unspoken signal for a rally point. The aged pony then swept a leg in a wide arc. Three teams of two scattered into the scant greenery, all in close proximity in order to help each other should the need arise. The small forest just outside the front gates had been converted into a park for public access. There wasn’t much to obscure a pony, but it was enough to warrant caution. It was their fortune that the park was closed due to it being after hours; there was less chance of civilian casualties that way.

“Sometimes it be the smallest that hurts the largest,” Stone commented to himself. His wingpony and the last member of his squad walked up to his side and waited, ready to begin the hunt. Hopefully nopony would need to bag a prize.

“Sergeant...” his wingpony’s voice trailed off. Sergeant Stone followed the voice, eyes peeled and ears alert for any sign of movement. The flora was painstakingly cared for; the Neighpon bonsai trees, the hanging gardens, and Evergreen azaleas were all pleasing to the eye, but every obstruction could easily hide an enemy. Stone passed an odd, vertical bush as he walked across the grass to his wingpony. When he reached his location, he was... unnerved to say the least.

Hidden behind a large maple tree that shielded it from the castle walls, a section of grass was completely dead, but the formation was what was odd. It was set in a perfect rectangle measuring at one meter by four meters.

“Make note of this. This not be natural.” His wingpony nodded. He and the Sergeant turned and walked the same path they took, passing the same flowers, trees, and hanging plants as before. However, something was... missing. The Sergeant couldn’t put his hoof on it.

“Dead grass doesn’t seem like much.”

“It be enough,” Sergeant Stone replied. “What makes a shape like that? I know nothin’.”

“SERGEANT!” a pony screamed. The pair darted to the source of the disturbance. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t too far away.

Four ponies stood in a semi-circle next to the castle walls, all surrounding nothing but grasses and strange shrubbery. Sergeant Stone scanned the immediate area; no sign of threats, just more grass, plants, and trees. “Report!”

“It moved, Sergeant,” came the same voice that shouted. He and the other three ponies were staring, unblinking, at a patch of snow-on-the-mountain and a trimmed shrub.

“Garden, Private. I see plants and no more.”

“That...bush! It moved!” The pony’s head was low, its stance, wide. It’s behavior was mimicked by the other three stallions, all of them ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Each one was staring unblinking as if the slightest twitch or blink would cause some cataclysmic event.

The bush turned around, startling all present. The soldiers gasped in surprise and knee-jerk fear at the unfamiliar creature before them.

“SWEET CELESTIA!” Sergeant Stone exclaimed. It wasn’t a bush, but a bush was the best way to describe the creature at first glance. It was almost two meters tall and a pale green, its skin comprised of flakes that resembled interlocked leaves on a plant. It had four legs to walk on, save, for its head, the rest of its body was a vertical stalk. Its blocky head held no discernable features, save for a pair of empty sockets for eyes and a mouth open in a silent scream.

“What the buck are you?” Stone’s wingpony asked with disdain.

The quadruped only tilted its head to the side at the question. Whether it understood or not, Stone did not know, but he knew better than to stick around when the air around its mouth began to hiss and the back of its throat glowed red with heat.

“FALL BACK!”

The creature began to violently shake and small flakes cracked off, all exuding the volcanic heat within. Everypony present turned and took to the skies, but not before its body ruptured. The last thing they remembered was an explosion ripping into their flesh.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Deathscar, BigMacDavis

Chapter 11: The Pillar of Abaddon

Chapter 11: The Pillar of Abaddon

The waters of Eternity’s Crossing, the great sea south of Equestria, were warm this time of year. Creatures of the sea, both fish and the deep-sea leviathans, hunted in its depths for food and mates. The entire stretch was vast and broad. Despite pony settlements like Canterbury, New Saddle, Hoofington, and St. Petershoof so close to Eternity’s Crossing and the Equestrian bay of Bridle Shores, and the faraway countries of Zebrica, Camelu, and Cervidas across the great expanse, neither side had come anywhere close to exploring the deeper sea depths.

Charting Eternity’s Crossing was never going to happen, partly due to infeasibility, partly due to superstition. The churning waters were difficult to navigate due to frequent storms and building submersibles capable of navigating the dark waters and resisting the great pressures were not yet available to even the wealthiest individuals. Whether pony, zebra, or cervidae, no one would set foot near the sea. Being creatures of the land, none wished to explore what they were so obviously unfamiliar with.

But as long-told and equally long retold stories proclaimed, an ancient and powerful race dwelled in the deepest reaches of Eternity’s Crossing. Since recorded memory, ever since the very founding of Equestria, legend stated that all creatures came from a grand and wise race, a species of sea-dwellers that once ruled the world from the confines of their ancestral home of Marelantis. As the legend stated, they spread their influence across the globe with the help of their great stores of knowledge and mastery of magic, populating the lands with quadrupeds.

However, the greed and hubris of their race was great. Under the weight of their own pride and misuse of their own magic, they sunk their proud city. Deprived of their homeland, the refugees had gone native. Over time, over the stretch of thousands of years, facts became myth, and myths became legends. Some say that Marelantis still lives and its citizens are cursed to never leave the seas. Some say their eternal rage at their fate was the source of the perpetually dangerous waters and powerful winds. But legends are just that: legends.

Speaking of winds, a great gust began to develop in the expanse of Eternity’s Crossing. Hurricanes were uncommon, but thunderstorms were not, and it was an easy feat for the weather teams on both sides of the seas to have a potential devastating storm on their hands with no means of controlling it. The wind, fed by the moisture and warm air, was not destined for such a fate. Compelled by a particularly strong pressure front from the south, the wind burst northward with vigor.

The wind’s trek was swift; the sea surface provided a steady trek for its first land-based destination. Hoofington was the largest city and contained the most people over a vast, urban sprawl. The city was one of the port towns, even though it was a fair ninety miles upriver

It gusted through the concrete jungle, ruffling overhangs and the whatever dresses the mares might be wearing. A few stallions bent low in hopes to sneak a peek under the hems, but the wind was not yet strong enough for such a task. The married stallions soon regretted the lecherous impulse when their wives discovered the direction of their wandering eyes.

Onward it moved, bringing with it the scents of sand, surf, and brine. Some ponies stopped in their tracks to absorb the scents carried on the air currents. They sighed in contentment, silently wishing to return to beaches visited in the past, be it on dates, family gatherings, or trips taken as fillies and colts long ago. Ponies were a docile and peaceful race; something as simple as remembering more pleasant times was a joy to hold and treasure.

The wind wind left Hoofington, but was becoming sluggish after its long journey. After hundreds of miles, after numerous natural and pony-made obstacles overcome and traversed, the wind was struggling to continue. The wind was granted only so much strength due to the warm ocean waters. Navigating urban sprawls, the great pillars of iron, wood and steel, had drained the wind, but all was not lost.

Flowing northwest, the wind filtered through a great valley. It could feel could feel strength up the mountains. Water. Pressure. Strength.

It was coming. Warmed by the sun and fed by the clouds holed up high in the mountains, the wind could continue. Down the mountain, the energy came. Once more, the wind had the energy to continue.

The scent of salt had long left the wind and replaced it with the scents of water and earth. The wind now coasted with the speed of a swift gust. It flew across scant villages and hamlets in the wide valley south of the nation’s capital, picking up the scents of sap and fresh pine. Just as the busy city ponies of Hoofington enjoyed the brief smells of ocean, the stout and hearty earth pony farmers took a moment to partake in the scents the wind brought them before toiling away in their fields. While it was close to dusk, a farmer’s work was never done.

The wind exited the valleys and entered the oblate plains of Equestria. The flat lands gave it plenty of room to maneuver and few objects to fight, but it came with the price of having no sources of energy to replenish its fading stores. The wind gusted past small towns and provinces, but was rapidly consuming its strength. Its dash became a stride, than a pace. The wind was quickly losing power, and there was nothing it could do to remedy its dilemma.

As the last vestiges of hope were dying, the wind felt even more power than before. Not just scattered collections of moisture and pressure, but clouds deviantly rich in both. Heat, light, wind, a never-ending buffet of energy for the wind to feast on. The wind coursed through an equine town, its streets full of citizens and soldiers alike. Its destination was the western mountains.

Through the forest, it raced. Compelled by pressures to rise, the wind rose up the Drakenridge Mountains and up to the peak of Dragonmount itself. There, the storm was at its richest. Everything the wind needed, it was provided. ‘Twas a worthy storm, indeed.

The wind was fed on a diet of warm air, currents rich in heat and moisture. If the currents would be so kind, it could join the storm clouds themselves and partake in the thunderstorm howling above the skies. The skies were black with the scale of the thunderheads and volume of moisture held in those clouds. The effect was only emphasized by the crimson of the dying sun and the silver of the waking moon.

The wind had progressed a great distance and overcome many obstacles, but nothing could help the wind as it was abruptly torn asunder.

A titanic shockwave burst forth from a large cave littered with small gems and bits of valuable metals. Inside the cave, which was now highlighted in an eerie violet haze, stood a large, black doorway containing a steady, violet energy. Just like its brethren only a few days prior, the gateway’s peaceful, violet currents abruptly morphed into violent, red zephyrs.

If anypony were anywhere even close to the immediate vicinity, they would know swiftly and brutally how different it truly was. There would be no timid mute or creature of darkness exiting this time. It was something far, far worse.

A deep rumble echoed from within the portal’s confines of blood-red energy. The portal, while still filling the entire cavern, was not as large as the one currently being disassembled over Ponyville’s skies, but it was still a respectable forty meters by fifty meters in size. Unlike before, the extra space was needed.

Heralded by the sound of rattling chains, a clawed talon burst from the portal’s confines. Its exact likeness could not be defined, as the entire limb was shrouded in pitch black mist and copious amounts of viscous and equally black liquid. The horror struggling to enter Equestria growled once more, a deep and venomous cry that shook the cavern to its foundations. Stone cracked under the weight of its limb. It needed more. More power, more energy. It still needed to come through.

The portal itself began to hiss and oscillate with excess energy. The very obsidian border itself cracked and jettisoned a foul, black fog. Slowly, ever so slowly, the creature inched its way through the portal and onto Equestrian soil. The creature was host to dozens of limbs, hundreds of separate connections and tendrils. There was so much to the beast it was impossible to describe in mere words. Every inch of the creature was moving in a chaotic harmony as bones shifted and muscles stretched and coiled. The patched of body that weren’t coated in slime or mist were covered in thick, slimy hide or iridescent scales that shone with every color of the rainbow. For every twitch the creature made, every shamble and shuffle it produced to extract itself from the portal, it incurred the sound of ringing iron.

Despite the beast’s oily hide, the black tar, and obfuscating mist, the beast’s entire body shone with a hot, white brilliance. Chains made of pure light encircled the monster and prevented it from struggling too rapidly, some of them nailed to its very flesh. Whenever one of its many tendrils or limbs pawed at the dirt and stone, whenever the black fog surrounding the monster ventured just a little too far from its host body, the chains tightened under the strain. The monster and the fog thrashed out of irritation, but the holy chains did not budge in the slightest. It thrashed once more, but they still held fast. No matter how hard or how fast the fog or the beast shifted, the shackles of light still held dominion over them both.

The beast was nearly through the Nether Portal. Foul, oily secretions spilled onto the floor in volumes along with even more of the black ooze. The beast planted its limbs into the stone, tendrils, tentacles, and claws, and heaved. The stone cracked and splintered under the beast’s vast girth. Despite several tons worth of pressure and the leverage granted to it, the monster could still only inch its way through the Nether Gate.

The Gate itself was oscillating thousands of times per minute. The pressure and strain was becoming too much to bear, cracking at chipping at the obsidian holding the entire structure together. It would not last much longer under the extremes being put on it.

With one final exertion and a monstrous bellow, the leviathan’s massive bulk exited the crimson expanse and the Portal shut down with a flash. What the monster’s clawed limbs did not slash, its bulk crushed under its obscene weight. The cave was once a brief respite for a dragon and the behemoth was easily as large. It shifted its exoskeletal hide, observing the cavern around it. Slowly, it headed for the cave’s exit.

The eldritch creature secreted vast amount of the toxic, black ooze, making the compacted mountain stone hiss and dissolve under its influence. The beast emitted another great cry of challenge and black, bottomless rage. Some power, some long-dead knowledge, detached from the creature and sought refuge in the ooze.

The beast did not seem to care about what it had just done. The sludge, compelled by powers unknown under the stars of Equestria’s sky, twitched. In a sudden and great burst of speed, the sludge launched at the largest mass of death ooze. The process emitted loud slurping and squishing noises, none of which the monster paid any heed. The beast ignored the process unfolding in front of it and proceeded to lurch out of the cave, its bindings ratling with every movement. Stalactites scratched its hide, which the beast obliterated with one of its many limbs out of irritation. Stone and gemstones were crushed under the monsters massive bulk. Nothing could stand in the beast’s path and survive.

Behind the monster, pieces of the sludge had hardened. A pair of eyes emerged from the sludge. Then another. And another. Fragments and skin and bone were rising out of the muck. Sludge collected and hardened to calcium, calcium to bone, bones to limbs. A creature had come into being in only just a few, scant seconds. The leviathan, pleased with the result of its work, gave another growl. This one was much darker and lower; it was satisfied with how events were unfolding. Everything was going according to plan...

Upon arriving at the exit, the beast was surrounded by black storm clouds and the cacophonous thunderstorm currently ongoing. The beast gazed over the harmonious Equestrian lands. Once again, it reared up and roared a challenge to the ponies below. Every ounce of its rage, pain, and thirst for vengeance poured into its cry. It reverberated down the mountainside and above the noise-consuming storm around it. Every iota of injustice, every fragment and shred of torment and pain molded its cry into something more than a challenge. A promise. On the mountaintop, more than just an event occurred. It was a reckoning.

A three-headed creature lurched from the muck gathered in the now shattered remains of the portal. It rose from the filth, black tar dripping off its skeletal, rotten form. It fell at first, but rose once more from the ooze. It steadily levitated in the air and held its position behind the leviathan, waiting.

Oh yes, there would be a reckoning, but first, there was work to be done...

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
For those curious, I use hlissner's Equestria map.
Edited by: Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Wolfmaster1337, Deathscar

Chapter 12: The Ponyville Think Tank

Chapter 12: The Ponyville Think Tank

A stream of ponies walked into Twilight’s library. Well, three walked, and one bounced. Twilight closed the door as Pinkie entered and the hyperactive mare headed straight toward the kitchen. Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash sat on some cushions arranged in a circle, aside from the two empty cushions belonging to Pinkie and Twilight herself, there was still one empty seat.

“Where’s Rarity?” Twilight asked.

“She said something about having a lot of work to do with all of the soldiers in town,” Pinkie’s voice echoed from the kitchen. It was probably a good thing she was gone at the moment. It was close to Spike’s bedtime and having to deal with a lovesick Spike, especially a sleep-addled lovesick Spike, was going to be troublesome. Twilight could hear the little dragon’s footsteps in the adjacent room; he was finishing up tonight’s clerical work.

“Don’t blame the gal fer’ bein’ busy,” Applejack added. “Me ‘n Mac have been sellin’ apples left n’ right. I’ve heard them soldiers sain’ they’ve seen Rarity’s dresses through Photo Finish and Sapphire Shores. They all want her work to take home for presents for themselves or family.”

“Well, we’ll have to start without her then,” Twilight said. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash removed their umbrellas and set them next to their cushions. Hiding underneath Fluttershy's mane of hair was a lump of brown feathers.

“Come on Owliscious, I know you’re not asleep. You’re awake at night,” Owliscious gave a hoot and unfurled his wings. A length of bandages secured the owl’s wings, but he appeared to be in perfect health.

“I owe you one for taking a look at Owliscious,” Twilight thanked. “I’ll make sure to pay you back sometime.”

“Oh, it was nothing. He didn’t so much as make a fuss.”

Twilight smiled, but that soon twisted itself into a look of stern seriousness. “Alright girls, wait. Pinkie!” Twilight called.

“Almost done!” The mare replied.

Whatever she was doing, it wasn’t likely Twilight could stop her or drag her back in. “Come in when you’re ready!” Twilight replied. She turned to the other three girls before her. “Okay girls, we’re here to figure out what’s happening to Ponyville. We all have pieces of the puzzle, so all we need to do is put them together.”

“I know you called us all here for that Twilight, but there’s like a million ponies on the job. What can we do?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Twilight’s ears drooped a fraction. “This is my home... I don’t want anything bad to happen to it. So much has happened in just two days. It’s like Discord all over again. So much is happening beyond my control and there’s nothing I could have done to stop it.” Twilight lifted her head and her nerves steeled themselves. “But not this time. I’m not giving up. No matter what. I will find out what’s happening to Ponyville.”

Applejack gave twilight a friendly smile. Twilight had told the group how antisocial and withdrawn she had become when she was cooped up in Canterlot palace. In no time at all, she was fighting back-to-back with them against a Changeling horde.

The thought would make any friend proud.

“Alrighty Twilight,” Applejack drawled. “Let’s pool what we got.”

Twilight nodded and smiled in thanks. “Alright, I’ll start. I woke up this morning and planned on meeting with the Council of Magic...”

“Well, Ms. Sparkle, you have been given top clearance by Princess Celestia, so I see no harm in revealing what you want to know.” Magus Diamond Solitaire had set aside his notes and faced the mare. “But our most recent finding concerning the obsidian gateway are sparse at best.

“We do not know if the gateway burned itself out from strain or its power source depleted beyond the point of normal operation. If I were to hypothesize, I would assume the former. It just doesn’t seem likely with the underground Farlander Portal being similar enough and having the latter option.”

“Excuse me, Farlander Portal?”

“Oh, do not concern yourself with the name’s inauspicious nature. Due to its unique design, the Royal Guard started commenting that it was built by beings from a faraway land, and the name has spread to the Council of Magic and the Archmage since,” Diamond gave a disgruntled frown at that, clearly displeased the official title was not something more scientific in nature.

Twilight sputtered, “A-A-Archmage?! Here!?”

“Of course, Ms. Sparkle. The Archmage was one of the first ponies summoned, but had to be delayed due to her own poor health.

“Now as I was saying, the obsidian portal appears to have burned itself out. Your testimony claimed that the Portal’s event horizon was calm at first and steadily became more dangerous as it switched hues. It is evidence that supports my hypothesis, but without further study, I cannot confirm it.

“We have not gained much from tracing magic, either. While there are two confirmed entities ejected from the obsidian gateway, we made a mistake on the gate’s creator. Due to the abundance of both magics at ground zero, we assumed both assisted in creating the gateway. That is incorrect; neither did. We examined the obsidian shards and detected nothing. They are completely desolate, without a shred of magic in them.”

“How can that--”

“Now Starswirl the Bearded once theorized that, with a powerful enough spell, a unicorn could sear all the magic from them in the process of casting it; similar circumstances could be in effect here. The Archmage gave us the idea to work with the residual magical traces gathered at ground zero and backtrack from there, as in try to piece together the experiment by first analyzing the results. It hardly abides by the scientific method, but we are running out of ideas.”

“Mr. Solitaire—?”

“What really fascinates me is how the obsidian was strengthened. My, I could write a paper on the new theories I have to accomplish such a task. If the process is replicable in any feasible manner, just think of the possibilities! Buildings that may never degrade, improved containment rooms capable of testing even the most potent of spells, or even reinforcing defensive barricades to prevent breaches.”

“Sir...?”

“Now, Mrs. Sparkle, I would like to run a theory by you...”

“I couldn’t get much out of him after that.” Twilight levitated one of her sandwiches over and took a bite. After swallowing, she magiced her sandwich to levitate in front of the group. The bread opened and closed in tune with Twilight’s own words.

“He just kept talking in one long incredibly unbroken sentence moving from topic to topic such that I did not have the chance to interrupt him. But really quite hypnotic,” Twilight said in a long monotonous breath to reflect Diamond’s own loquacious nature.

“He sounds like a bore,” Rainbow Dash said dryly.

“Oh, he knows his stuff, but there’s a reason his cutie mark looks like a 500 page book. I swear, he could talk Discord into submission.” Twilight chuckled. “Mr. Solitaire escorted me to the base of operations that was studying this ‘Farlander Portal’...”

Twilight quietly walked behind Princess Luna and a small army of Night Guards. The dark caverns of Equestria’s underbelly were vast and uncharted; it was very easy to lose oneself and never be found again. The Night Guard had enacted a thorough search of the caves, as thorough as they could, anyway, but did not turn up any foreign presence. They were selected for security detail of the Farlander Portal due to their familiarity with darkness combat and reconnaissance. Their eyes were perfect in the dark, even though the path to the Farlander Portal was illuminated with magical orbs emitting a steady, yellow glow.

“Why not just patrol all the tunnels?” Twilight asked.

“‘Tis infeasible to do so, Twilight Sparkle,” Princess Luna responded. “These passages art far too vast to patrol. Doing so would stretch our ponypower too thin.”

Twilight, Luna, and her entourage entered a large central chamber illuminated by even more orbs and set with a single centerpiece: twelve greenish stones, all aligned in a square with no corners, levitated in the air just like the obsidian portal above. Luna and Twilight took a moment to marvel at the portal briefly before walking toward a single pony overseeing the other dozen magi examining the portal.

She was a very old and wizened-looking snow-white mare. She was dressed in a pitch-black cloak emblazoned with the Council of Magic crest, a simple black pointed hat, and carried a gnarled, wooden staff. Twillight could understand what Diamond Solitaire meant by poor health; the Archmage was supervising the other magi, but leaning heavily on her staff.

“Archmage Bangle?” The elderly mare turned at Luna’s call. Czarina Bangle, the only Council member native to the Hooviet Union in the far north, was just as imposing as her reputation said. Even with her wrinkles, pale complexion, and unsteady limbs, she still carried herself with an authoritative air, her acid-green eyes deep and piercing as she sized Twilight up.

On seeing the one who called her, Czarina did her best to bow, but only managed to nod her head with her grip her staff.

“Is — it is good to see you, Princess Luna.” Czarina said, a tiny fragment of her accent slipping through the cracks of her otherwise flawless speech.

“Likewise. Art thou well, Archmage?”

“Well enough, Princess. I’ve lived through Nightmare Moon, Discord, Queen Chrysalis, and,” she eyed Twilight Sparkle with a twinkle in her eye, “little fillies running through the palace halls begging for more books to read.” Twilight flushed in embarrassment.

Czarina laughed softly - wheezed would be more appropriate - and brushed her silver mane out of her eyes. “It will take more than a flight to rural Equestria to send these old bones to the grave.” She chuckled darkly. “How may I help you, Princess?”

“What can you tell us about this infernal device?”

Czarina hobbled toward the gateway with her hooves around her staff. Nopony stepped forward to help the aged unicorn; they knew that just like her magic, her pride had not followed in the hoofsteps of her frail body. “The design is similar to the obsidian gateway, but upon closer examination, it is by no means identical. Like the obsidian gateway, this one also hovers above the ground with no noticeable means of suspension. That, however, is where the similarities end.”

She pointed to the twelve green bricks arranged in a ring. “While this doorway has no cornerstones, unlike its obsidian brethren, it’s power source is simple to understand. I’ve detected energy in these materials. These twelve blocks are akin to magical containers, each one capable of producing its own stream of raw magic. These,” She pointed to an empty slot of one of the stones, then pointed at the other empty eleven, “must be missing some type of lens to focus the magic to open the gateway.

“We performed rudimentary tests to seek out any unnoticed magical traps, and found none. Our next step was to search for trace magic. We discovered one lurking in the bricks themselves: the second type. This portal, without any semblance of doubt, confirms our suspicions of not one, but two intruders stumbling through the obsidian gateway.”

“But none of this makes sense,” Twilight said. The Archmage raised an eyebrow, to which Twilight lowered her head in embarrassment.

“Go on, Twilight Sparkle; explain your thoughts.” Luna encouraged gently.

“Well... why make another gateway so different in the first place when the other one seemed so much more simple to build? Why come and then immediately try to leave?”

The Archamge smiled in pride and agreement, “That is one of the many questions to ask when this biped is secure.” She looked back to the Princess. “Now I have a working theory to propose once our analysis of the gateway is complete. The chance of success is small, but I wish to run it by you anyway. I may be able to reverse engineer the magic used to reopen the gateway.”

Twilight gasped. “Is such a thing possible?”

“Likely not,” Czarina responded. “But I am far from attempting such a feat.”

“It is something we - I - shall ponder, Archmage. Thank you.”

“So that Archmage mare is gonna open that infernal thang?” Applejack asked. “Seems like a mighty bad idea, if you ask me.”

“I’m with AJ. We got enough trouble out of just one. Why bother opening another?” Rainbow Dash added.

Ding!

A noise echoed from the kitchen and Pinkie trotted out shortly, a bowl of popcorn balanced on her head. She plopped down in the circle of ponies and started digging into the bowl, getting popcorn everywhere.

“Hey, give me some!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed. Pinkie extended the bowl to the pegasus, who scooped up a hooffull and started eating in earnest.

“Rarity would have a conniption if she saw this,” Twilight sighed. Two ponies were getting buttery, salty snacks all over the floor. It would take quite a while to get the stains out of the carpet and floors.

“That’s all I know so far. Would anyone else like to go?”

“Ah couldn’t get off the farm to listen to any gossip.”

“And I was busy with the Cakes all day today and yesterday!”

“I heard some things from my momma,” Fluttershy said.

Three sets of eyes turned to gaze quizzically at Fluttershy.

“Momma?” They said in unison.

Fluttershy blushed and instinctively hid herself behind her lengthy mane. After a second of thought, she extracted herself from the pink wall and looked at her friends. Even Spike, finished with his work, had joined the group, though he looked barely conscious at the moment due to it being past his bedtime.

Pinkie was the first to start, “I bet your momma’s a wonderful mare. i heard you say she works in Canterlot. I bet she runs the biggest, nicest animal shelter in Equestria. No, in the whole world! There has to be nice feather bed for the animals, an indoor stream for them to drink from, ten, no, fifty, no a hundred! A hundred helpers to take care of all the animals!

Rainbow had been sniggering throughout Pinkie’s splurge of words and let out a weary giggle when she finished, “Ah ha ha! You don’t even know how funny that is, Pinkie.”

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy walked together down the gravel road leading from Fluttershy’s cottage into town. Rainbow Dash had once again stopped at the timid pegasus’ house due to her own poor cooking skills, to which Fluttershy was only too happy to help out. When done with their meals, Fluttershy needed to return an injured Owliscious to Twilight. The owl’s wing was set in a cast and was ready to return to Twilight’s care. That was only the first reason to head to the library; Twilight had beckoned the girls to brainstorm for information. Neither mare knew anything useful, but a little support never hurt.

With umbrellas attached to their saddlebags, the pair set their sights on the town. It was good foresight that they were prepared; the furious downpour would drown nearly anypony that stepped out of the comfort of their home. Fluttershy did not mind rain, but she did mind thunder and lightning. It was why Rainbow Dash had stopped in the first place, to comfort the mare on her trip to Twilight’s house so she didn’t have to wade through the rougher storms later on in the week. Owliscious, perched on Fluttershy’s saddle as he was, did not seem to mind one way or the other.

Lightning flashed across the sky and rain beat against their umbrellas, inducing the unpleasant suspicion that they would not hold up against the downpour. Despite being irksome to deal with, the past storms were doing wonders for the local plant life; Ponyville had not experienced rain for nearly a month and a half, shriveling plants and grasses without respite. Not that either mare wished to observe the flora scattered across the plains and hills of Equestria; dark was approaching and the tumultuous storm did little to improve visibility.

Rainbow Dash heard a large thump behind her and Fluttershy, causing her to turn around in a rush. In front of Rainbow was one of the largest ponies she had ever seen, short of Princess Luna and Celestia. At nearly twice her size and wearing the armor of a member of the Royal Guard, the pony sure was an intimidating sight to behold. A bolt of lightning flashed, highlighting the pony’s playful smile.

“And what are you two doing out in the rain so late?” The Guard pony asked. Rainbow took a step back; she had almost mistaken the Guard’s voice to be a thunderbolt with its deep, bass-like properties.

However, Rainbow was not one to submit easily to the demands of unknown ponies, even those bearing the royal seal. She snorted and pawed at the dirt, “Who’s asking?”

This only seemed to amuse the mare further. After adjusting her helmet, a few pink locks fell from its confinement.

Fluttershy blinked in surprise, “Uh, Rainbow Dash?”

“My my, little pegasus; is that anyway to speak to your superiors?” The Guard pony tsked in disappointment. “I expected so much better out of youth these days.”

“Hey, if you wanna piece of me, all you gotta do is ask!” Rainbow Dash reared up on her hind legs and delivered a few practice boxes to the empty air. The Guard pony did not seem perturbed by Rainbow Dash’s bravado or even care whether it was genuine or forced.

“Rainbow Dash...”

The Guard pony smiled at Rainbow’s antics, “Try me.”

She proclaimed, despite being clearly outclassed in size, weight, and skill, she proclaimed, “Come on, I can take you! Right, Fluttershy?”

“Hi, mom,” Fluttershy squeaked.

Rainbow’s head turned to Fluttershy so fast that something cracked in her neck. Wincing at the pain, she exclaimed, “Wait, what? Mom?”

“Ho ho, little Dashie!” The massive mare rumbled deeply. She patted Rainbow Dash’s back affectionately, making Dash’s knees buckle with each tap. “Did you really forget me already? Don’t tell me you don’t remember coming over to my house for dinner after you stood up to those bullies? It was the least I could do.”

Rainbow gasped in recognition. She hadn’t seen the hulking mare since she left Cloudsdale so long ago, but Fluttershy was more than willing to talk about her mother when the two were alone. “Mrs. Barricade!”

“Oh, it’s just Barricade for you, my little Dashie,” Barricade slapped Rainbow on the back once more, knocking the mare off her feet. Barricade did not seem to notice. “Or mom; you’ve known me and Flutters long enough.”

Rainbow got up slowly and shook herself free of the water and specks of mud. Barricade threw a leg around Rainbow’s neck and pulled her into a hug. Fluttershy soon entered her boisterous mother’s grasp. “It’s good to see you both either way.”

“Ack.. ugh, B-B-Barricade... can’t... breathe...” Rainbow gasped.

Barricade chuckled and let the two mares go. “Heading somewhere? Come on, I’ll walk with you.” Barricade leaned down to Fluttershy - a tall order considering her size - and nuzzled her daughter. “I’ve been off duty and looking for a chance to find you Flutters, but I only have about half an hour left.”

“That okay, momma. I’m just glad to see you.” Fluttershy gave her mother a brief nuzzle in return before separating.

Barricade escorted the two friends as they walked down the path to town. The dirt road to Fluttershy’s cottage soon gave way to cobblestone streets lined with thatched and tiled houses and businesses. Idle chatter consumed the start of their conversations, Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash summarizing the last two day followed shortly by Barricade doing the same.

“Some of my animals are still hiding after all the noise from two nights ago.”

“You need a firm hoof, Flutters! Take command!”

“They need a gentle hoof, momma. The smaller animals are too delicate, especially this new family of mice I’ve been raising; their burrow collapsed after that big scary portal appeared.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that much longer. After we found the second portal, Princess Celestia ordered this one,” she pointed a hoof upwards, “immediately dismantled.” Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash both looked up. Just as Barricade said, a third of one side was missing.

“Plus, we have around the clock reconnaissance of the Everfree Forest and Ponyville. If there’s anything out there, we’ll find it. They’ll see what happens when they cross the Captain of the Pegasus Corp.”

“I don’t think even they deserve that,” Rainbow unconsciously twitched her flank at that. She knew first hoof how Barricade perceived events endangering herself or her daughter. Rainbow Dash was invited over to Fluttershy’s house for the first time after she rescued her from Hoops’ and Score’s bullying. After Barricade found out it was partially Rainbow’s fault for Fluttershy falling about 500 feet to the earth... well, Rainbow’s flank still reddened at the mere thought of being alone with the burly pegasus.

Barricade smiled at Rainbow’s embarrassment, but she let it go; she’d have time to tease Rainbow later. Barricade, however, missed teasing her daughter dearly, “So Fluttershy, you’ve been living in Ponyville for over two years now. Are you getting along well with that pet of yours?”

“Little Angel is fine,” she replied. And she took the bait. Barricade knew her daughters quirks and ticks better than anyone. Turning her head away, the slight sinking of her shoulders, and moving her hair to block line of sight, they were all signs of Fluttershy’s nerves getting the best of her. It was time to catch up on some friendly teasing.

“Why are you so nervous? Is everything alright? Is Angel giving you too much trouble? I could come over and talk to him.” She smiled in anticipation.

“No! I mean, it’s okay, mom. Angel’s fine.” Angel would owe Fluttershy big after that. The last time Barricade needed to “converse” with him, he was fetching her tea and buffing her armor until she left.

“You shouldn’t be nervous over something like that. Do you have a special somepony you haven’t told your dear momma about?”

“W-w-what!? Mom, no--”

“Oh, if that’s the case, there’s no need to be ashamed!” Rainbow Dash was sure the trees were shaking from the sheer force of Barricade’s voice and not the rain. It was not hard to imagine which side of her family got her shouting voice when she gets angry.

“Mom, no!” A deep red blush was crawling up Fluttershy’s cheeks. “Really, I--”

“Have a marefriend instead? That’s fine with me, Flutters.”

Fluttershy pawed at the ground and mumbled incoherently to herself, completely at a loss as to what to say. Barricade snickered and grabbed Fluttershy in a bear hug, a gentle one this time. “It’s been months since I’ve seen you, Fluttershy; forgive a little teasing from this old mare. Now, there was something I was going to tell you – YOU TWO!”

Somewhere, Angel felt a surge of irrational terror.

Barricade was speaking to a pair of Royal Guards flirting with Golden Harvest under her awning. Upon being addressed, the two guards turned to chide their guest. And immediately snapped to attention upon discovering who it was.

“I recognize you two! You’re supposed to be posted on third shift tonight. In ten minutes.” Rainbow Dash wondered if Barricade had mastered some art of voice-propelled explosions due to the deepness and volume of her voice.

“Yes, Captain Barricade!” The two declared in unison.

“I will examine your time stamps tomorrow, and they better be on time.”

“Yes, Captain Barricade!” The two immediately flew off, leaving a particularly baffled and frustrated Golden Harvest in their wake. Apparently their attentions were not completely unwanted.

Barricade left the mare to her own device and continued deeper into town, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy following close behind. “Now as I was saying, I know you live close to the Everfree Forest. It relieves me to tell you that the monsters have stopped rampaging.”

Fluttershy’s face was still a bright crimson when she answered. “That’s good to hear. I was afraid to go outside with all that noise going on. I’m glad that Rainbow Dash has been stopping by to keep me company.” Fluttershy scanned the Forest due to her usual cautious instincts and didn’t see anything. At first. For a brief moment, she spotted a pair of white lights just beyond the forest borders before they blacked out. After another second, several more lights far deeper flew out of the Forest canopy and towards the abandoned Castle of the Royal Pony sisters.

“What’s going on?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“No pony knows. Ever since Sergeant Jetstream found the other portal underground, the reports of animal and monster rampages have ceased entirely.”

Dash saw Barricade’s face darken slightly as she said that, “Is something wrong, Barricade?”

“Sergeant Jetstream.”

“Wooo,” Owliscious hooted.

“Sergeant Jetstream,” Barricade repeated.

The two pegasus friends had heard that name since the night before. He was the pegasus that bravely ventured into the dark caverns and discovered another portal with the help of Zecora. It was a hot point of gossip in Ponyville, especially in such a small town with little else to talk besides hot topics.

“Yeah, give the stallion a medal,” Rainbow Dash said. “Zecora too.”

“Yes, Zecora will be commended for her bravery,” Barricade stopped for a second to consider her words carefully. Fluttershy saw the almost sad look in her eyes; it was one she saw on her mother’s face whenever she did something bad back when she was a filly in Cloudsdale. “Sergeant Jetstream is likely in line for a court martial.”

“What do you mean?” Rainbow cried out. “He found that portal thing all by himself. Well, Zecora helped, but still.”

“As honorable as it was to storm the dark alone, knowing full well there may have been an enemy waiting, those were not his orders. His orders were to discover any information he could, but he abandoned his team in the process.”

Rainbow was about to speak, but Barricade overrode her, “Yes, he was ordered to search the caves, but his first responsibility was toward his unit. He should have stayed with them. His unit looks up to him for orders and protection. Instead, he gallivanted about the caves. What happened was best case scenario, but it could have easily been so much worse. We have rules and regulations to protect the lives of the Royal Guard, and he didn’t follow them.”

Rainbow looked at her hooves, watching her steps tread through the puddles. “I still think what he did was pretty cool.”

Barricade let up her seriousness and gave Rainbow a warm smile. “I don’t want it to happen, and I understand why he did it, but what if somepony breaks the rules again and gets hurt? For the greater good, Sergeant Jetstream will likely answer for his actions.” Barricade sighed, wanting to end the unpleasant direction the conversation had taken.

“Onto more pleasant things.” Barricade bumped her rump against Rainbow Dash to get her attention. Due to the large difference in size, it had the unintended side effect of knocking Dash off her hooves and face first into a puddle. “We sometimes work security at public events. I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about you trying to join the Wonderbolts. Any luck yet, Dashie?”

Rainbow Dash, once again, rose from the cobblestone streets. “Nothing yet and auditions are closed for the rest of the year.”

“Too bad.” Barricade paused. “Do you have a routine arranged, by chance?”

“Of course! You are looking at the Rainbow Dash, winner of the Best Young Flyers competition!”

“Weeeeell,” Barricade’s deep voice drew out the syllable purposefully. “I might be able to arrange a private show among the Royal Guard. It would at least get your name out there a little more.”

“Really!? You would do that?” With eyes wide, wings splayed, the flyer’s enthusiasm was infectious and palpable.

“Yes, Rainbow Dash.” Barricade gave Rainbow’s hair an affectionate ruffle. “You were like a second daughter to me in Cloudsdale when you weren’t such a hellion.”

At that moment, a squadron of Night Guards flew past them in formation. Barricade’s head shot up to observe them as they past. Without stopping, the squadron flew towards the Everfree Forest, right to the direction of the Castle.

“Something’s wrong.” Once again, Barricade’s voice had taken on a tone of dead seriousness. “I saw his rank; the squadron leader was a major. Something’s not right.” Barricade turned to her two temporary charges. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to meet up with you two later.”

Fluttershy nodded in understanding, but Rainbow’s mood became downcast. “I’m sorry Rainbow, but I have to go.” Barricade spread her wings and took to the air, following the squadron into the Forest.

Fluttershy nudged Rainbow, both to get her moving to Twilight’s library and try to bump her out of her temporary depression. Rainbow sighed and nodded. Twilight was waiting.

Twilight, Applejack, and Pinkie stared in disbelief.

“Captain... of the Pegasus Corp...” Applejack managed to say. The shy, timid pegasus, the one among them who was the very definition of pacifism, was the daughter of the hulking Captain.

“So let’s outline what we know. A portal opened in the sky two nights ago,” Twilight started. Still, Fluttershy was the daughter of Captain Barricade? Twilight needed to chew on that thought before confronting it.

“Two Celestia-forsaken ruffians ran out of it like a flock of it like chickens in a snake den,” Applejack chimed in.

“One of them was a big meanie-pants to Lyra but she thinks it was an accident.”

“There’s a different portal thing in the caves.”

“And my momma says the monsters in the forest aren’t scared anymore.”

“Okay, so we have Entity Number 1 and Entity Number 2. Both came through the obsidian portal. Number 1 ran into the forest while Number 2 disappeared into the caves below without being seen.”

“Doesn’t sound like the two were bosom buddies if ya ask me,” Applejack said. “Not only does the second run off when trouble’s a comin’, he does nothin’ when Numbah 1 thare nearly got hogtied by the Royal Guard.”

“Maybe because he stole his way home?”

“Well that’s a lot to assume Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said. She held a hoof to her chin in thought.

“You said the egghead unicorn needed something to get the thing working. Would those stones that two legged used work? They seem to take him places.”

Twilight was momentarily speechless, half due to it being a valid and intuitive theory she had not anticipated, and half due to Rainbow Dash coming up with it first. “That... makes a lot of sense.” Twilight grabbed a piece of chalk with her magic and wrote on the board “Theories” and below that wrote “Theft.”

“Alright girls, what else do we have?”

“I think he’s scared,” Fluttershy said quietly. As the group turned to her to listen to her input, Fluttershy instinctively turned to the side to hide her face behind her mane of hair. “L-L-Lyra said he looked scared. We don’t know what he is, so maybe he doesn’t know what a pony is and is scared of us.”

“Doubt that. He threw something at Lyra and she didn’t do anything!” Rainbow Dash countered.

“That coulda been due tah the fella just havin’ ah good quick draw. Kinda reminds me o’ you, R.D.; act first, think later.”

Before Rainbow could retort, Twilight raised her voice and overrode the soon-to-be squabbling mares, “Fluttershy does have a point and we have no reason to doubt Lyra’s words at this time.” Twilight wrote on the board ‘Entity A,’ and below that, ‘Scared?’ and ‘Transmutation.’

“Wait, what’s that big word there mean? Trans-what now?” Rainbow Dash asked.

Pinkie, however responded first, “It is the capability of altering a material’s molecular structure to the likeness of something else’s.”

Four ponies and one dragon stared blankly at Pinkie, who had pulled a bag of gummie worms from the confines of her frazzled hair and continued to feast.

“...That’s... right...” Twilight said cautiously while in her head, she kept on repeating the mantra ‘It’s just Pinkie, it’s just Pinkie, it’s just Pinkie...’

“Anyway...” Twilight gave Pinkie a look mixed with cautious respect and a little bit of fear before continuing, “I wrote that because of this,” Twilight’s horn became enshrouded with violet energy.

Floating down from her upstairs bedroom, an item wrapped in cloth and Twilight’s magic set itself down on the table in front. “Everyone missed this, but luckily Spike was on my back and picked it out.”

“Aw, it was nothing,” Spike said with fake bashfulness. “Anything I can do to help.”

“What is it, hun?”

“This.” Twilight removed the cloth, revealing a steel sword approximately 36 inches long with a flawless wooden handle. Spike eyed the four mares in the dark about his discovery, a smug smile on his lips.

“Celestia gave me permission to examine it, but Spike was the one who noticed the big issue here.”

“Well, what is it?” Rainbow Dash whined. “It’s just a sword.”

“Yeah,” Spike responded, “but there’s something wrong with it.” The dragon’s smile widened, despite his fatigue due to the late afternoon hour.

“Wait a gosh darn second,” Applejack got up and walked to the table. Twilight set the deadly blade down for Applejack to examine, but the farmer only seemed interested in the hilt. After a few more seconds of examination, Applejack finally opened up, “Well all be; that ain’t right.”

“Out with it, Applejack!” Rainbow Dash’s voice was thick with frustration. One of Rainbow’s many berzerker buttons was being left out of the loop.

“Thare ain’t no wood grain, R.D. Everything wooden has a grain; this sword here don’t.”

“Well, how do you explain that?”

“I reckin’ I can’t, Rainbow Dash. I ain’t seen nothin’ like it.”

“What about you, Twilight? Use that big brain of yours.”

“I honestly don’t know, Rainbow Dash. This is just wood, but that’s all... I don’t get it!” Twilight exclaimed. Her four friends jumped slightly at her outburst; Twilight never liked being left out of the loop, and liked things not making sense even less. “It’s wood, but doesn’t have any other properties of wood. It has no wood grain, it’s too lightweight for any known wood, and the type of wood is completely unknown.” Twilight gestured emphatically to the wooden handle. “By all accounts, it’s existence defies everything we know.”

“Twilight, you’re getting the crazy eyes again.”

Twilight stopped her mini tirade and took a deep breath. “You’re right, Pinkie. Let’s get off the topic right now.” Twilight gave the sword one last dirty look before covering it with the cloth again. “What else do we know?”

“I know! The second one is really good at hide and seek!”

“Pinkie, that’s not...” Twilight thought about it for a second. “No, wait, you’re right. We haven’t seen or heard of another creature yet.” The only sign of another creature so far had been the residual magic traces and the second portal, but nothing physical like a visual sighting or footprint of the creature itself. “Where is the second one?”

Twilight took her chalk and wrote ‘Entity B’ and ‘Stealthy’ directly beneath that. “Okay girls, what else do we have? Anything, even a wild guess, could help us figure out what’s going on.”

“Maybe the animals in the Forest aren’t running because whatever scary monster that came out of the door left,” Fluttershy said.

“I’m just wondering why it ran away and made a new portal; there was another one right in the sky,” Rainbow Dash pondered. “Nopony has seen the thing looks like, so I don’t think it would be hard to go back and get it working again.”

“That be assuming it wanted to go back an’ it could work the darn thing,” Applejack countered.

“Then why build a second?”

“Rainbow Dash is right, Applejack,” Twilight said. “While it is still debatable, the second entity built a portal for a purpose, be it to leave or bring something through.”

“Maybe neither of them made it,”

“But Pinkie, I heard the Archmage herself say--”

“Not the second one, silly, the first one.”

“But--”

“Didn’t you say that the big black door in the sky didn’t have any magic? Maybe that’s because neither made it. They both leave trails the Archmage can find, so they have to be bad at hide and seek. If they got rid of their own trails, they’d be so much better at hiding.”

Again, Pinkie’s absurd and roundabout logic proved to make sense. “You continue to amaze me, Pinkie.” Twilight wrote under theories ‘Third Party?’ She sighed and suppressed a yawn; it was already late enough as it is. Spike’s eyes were closed. The poor dragon was tuckered out, trying and failing to fight the oncoming blanket of sleep.

“I think we’ve had enough for tonight, girls. It’s already late, so let’s try to get some sleep.”

“Good idea, Twi; plus all this rain’s gonna make farming tomorrow mighty difficult.”

Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy rose as Applejack did, each one shaking her legs to get the blood flowing.

“I’ve got to meet up with Cloudkicker and Great Scott and see how the storm’s going. I’ll see you all later. Think you’d be all right walking back on your own, Fluttershy?” Rainbow Dash said.

Fluttershy did not like the prospect of walking home alone, but she accepted that maintaining the storm was important. “I’ll be alright Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow nodded, opened the door, and scampered into the newborn night sky. The sky was a solid black with storm clouds; not a single star was visible tonight. It was the perfect night for the creature observing the ponies from the confines of the rain-splattered window...

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Material Defender, Deathscar

Chapter 13: I've Got My Eyes on You

Chapter 13: I’ve Got My Eyes on You

Fluttershy stood in the library doorway, watching the dark clouds above. She was not often emboldened to fly home on her own while in the midst of a thunderstorm. She had made it a priority to keep tabs on the weather team’s schedule for storms to avoid them entirely, but there were occasional instances where she had to brave them, like today.

Ponyville was as much her home as it was Twilight’s, and Fluttershy was more than willing to brave a storm to help out. She had played her part, now it was up to Twilight to put the pieces together.

Boom!

“Eep!” That still didn’t mean she had to like storms, though. She especially did not like loud and very close thunderclaps.

Fluttershy was very tempted to fly back. Sure, she’d get wet, but the less time in the storm, the better. However, even a novice flyer would know to never fly in a thunderstorm. Fluttershy’s mind was settled then; she would walk, even if it tacked on another twenty minutes.

Fluttershy bit her lip as she walked. Her umbrella was taking a beating, but still held, thank Celestia. For a brief moment, she was tempted to return to Twilight’s house.

“No, I still need to feed the animals,” she said to herself. Fluttershy did not expect to be out so late, so she had not made preparations for the various animals staying in her cottage. Like it or not, she needed to head back and take care of her charges.

Water had pooled in the dips in Ponyville’s cobblestone roads, which tacked on even more time for Fluttershy to avoid them. “No need to get my saddlebags wet.” The streets lights fought the darkness brought on by Luna’s night and the relentless onslaught of rain. The lights cast shadows in the alleys between buildings that hid much and promised little. Fluttershy never liked the dark.

Walking alone unnerved Fluttershy even more, however. For a brief moment, a section of cobblestone flashed with light and darkened.

“Ah!” Fluttershy squeaked. She looked up and, upon seeing the light post, sighed, “It’s just a reflection in water, Fluttershy. Stop being such a scaredy pony.”

The tension in the back of her mind did not vacate her. Every step seemed to increase the steadily-growing nervous feeling creeping up her spine. Lights flickered and darkness swayed. The storm didn’t help either. Her wings kept twitching with the instinct to fly home and escape the source of her fear, but that was still not an option.

Further she walked, listening to the rain pelt her umbrella and the thunder rage above. She recalled the soldiers she had seen just that afternoon. “What could be so important that ponies would fly in a storm this bad?” Fluttershy wondered. Had something happened that required haste that soldiers would risk a lightning strike? The air was saturated with the aura of thunderstorm; every breath brought in moist air and tingled the back of her throat with the air’s magnetic charge.

Whatever the reason they left, it was something to think about at another point in time. Fluttershy passed the post office and Ponyville Town Hall; she was halfway through town... but the shadows worried her.

The dark felt unnatural, even with the severity of the weather. The light posts seemed to fight the darkness encroaching on Fluttershy. Every flicker of magic or fire in them dimmed as she passed. The shadows approached Fluttershy, coming closer and closer and –

“Stop it, Fluttershy,” The mare chided to herself. Worrying about what she could not control and jumping at every shadow would get her nowhere. Her words were meant to encourage herself.

That didn’t mean it would work.

Fluttershy shuddered with cold. It felt like somepony slipped a cold hoof across her spine, making her shiver and her fur stand on end; she could not shake the itch in her shoulders telling her she was being watched. Fluttershy quickened her pace to a canter and moved on. It was already an unpleasant night; she’d need to nurture some fireplace coals when she returned to her cottage.

She stopped by Bon Bon’s bakery display window for a moment to shake off some of the water that managed to collect on her fur. She did not mind the sensation, but it her situation felt unpleasant enough as it was without the feeling of rivulets running down her back.

Fluttershy froze. Out of the corner of her eye, her reflection turned and stared at her. She stopped breathing. It did not move.

Staring. Watching. Waiting. Listening. Learning.

Slowly, as slow as she possibly could, Fluttershy turned her head towards the window. Her reflection did not move in the slightest. Fluttershy saw the wooden border framing the window. A little further, and she saw a sign depicting some of her freshly baked fudge bars stuffed with nuts. Then there was empty plates that would brandish tasty treats for all to enjoy.

She gazed upon her reflection, and it gazed back. The two just stared at each other for a few moments and did absolutely nothing.

Experimenting a little, Fluttershy shifted her head to the left. Her reflection did nothing. She shifted to the right. Again, her reflection did nothing. Fluttershy wasn’t sure what to do.

It smiled.

Fluttershy turned and galloped down the street, making no effort to avoid any puddles of water with the same care she had only just taken. The shadows started snuffing out the lights one by one, darkening the streets as she she ran. The darkness was following her.

Fluttershy skidded to a stop. In front of her was a wall of solid black. Not shadows, not darkness, but an absolute void. She turned ninety degrees and ran down the alleyway and let out a whimper of fear once she discovered it was a dead end.

Fluttershy quickly scanned the alley; it contained nothing but the refuse and garbage of the adjacent buildings. Judging by the rotten food and discarded napkins shoved into some of the trash bins, she was next to a restaurant, but that fact would not calm her beating heart. There was nothing else other than some discarded newspapers, several large trash bags bulging out of a dumpster and...

A lone lantern lying in the middle of the alley.

Fluttershy tilted her head in confusion and approached the lantern. It looked like it had leftover oil, so that was good. What was it doing in a random alley? Fluttershy didn’t question her fortune. The wick was engorged with oil, so Fluttershy just hit the lantern’s striker and lit the wick, filling the alley with a rich, yellow light.

Fluttershy picked up the lantern handle with her teeth and turned around–

And came face to face with a pair of eyes. There was some... creature enshrouded in darkness staring right back at her. It vaguely resembled a pony, but its form kept shifting and moving with the slightest wind that funneled through the alley.

But the creatures eyes were exactly like a pony’s. Cyan eyes, just like hers.

“Stay in the light...”

Fluttershy panicked and ran around the strange shadow pony and reentered the cobblestone street.

And everything was fine. The lights were working correctly, the moving shadows were gone, and all seemed normal. Fluttershy gave a shiver and coughed with the lantern still in her mouth. Her heart was beating rapidly and she struggled to control her breathing, but she needed to check. She needed to check for herself, give herself a little peace of mind.

She turned and examined the alley she exited; it was as empty of life as it could be.

Fluttershy gave a great sigh of relief and started panting to catch the breath she didn’t realize she lost. Even with the rain shaken from her coat, her body was still cated in a sheen of liquid; she had been sweating from fear and exertion for the past several minutes. The strangeness of her situation, the unobtrusive appearance of the shadow pony, it was all putting heavy strain on the poor, timid pony’s nerves and body.

But she had a lantern now. ‘Why was there a lantern there? And what did that pony mean?’

‘Stay in the light.’ What did that mean? Was the pony just giving her a light source to ease her fear? There seemed no other reason a lantern would be in a random alley.

Fluttershy’s breathing calmed to manageable levels. She had a lantern now. She could do this.

Boom!

“Eep!” Perhaps she could go to Rainbow Dash’s sky home. That would be closer. Fluttershy had always been afraid of thunder as much as she was afraid of the dark.

Fluttershy set off at a brisk trot. The street lights emitted a respectable amount of light, but having her own source gave her courage a boost. The lantern’s light was a comforting and warming presence, especially for one as cowardly as Fluttershy.

Rainbow Dash’s house was closer, but that involved leaving the roads early. Rainbow Dash flew everywhere she needed, so she was never too particular to have roads near her house. It was the unfortunate choice to leave the brightly lit Ponyville side streets and trot out onto the grass, exiting Ponyville proper and entering the outskirts. That meant less ponies and buildings and a clearer line of sight, but in return, offered less opportunities to call for help.

Fluttershy wished she could call for help, or at least go to another pony’s house. Wherever she looked, something... lingered. It was unlike the vanishing lights that accompanied her only moments before. Encircling her in every direction, shifting with every step she took, shadows lurked in the corners of her vision.

And they were moving.

“Please no...” Fluttershy pleaded no pony in particular. The darkness appeared as a thick, black mist that consumed every iota of light behind it.

Fluttershy began to gallop once more to Rainbow Dash’s house. Even if the pegasus was not there to open the door, Rainbow Dash had given her a key long ago.

Her self-preservation instincts took over and she spread her wings. Normally, her wings locked themselves to her sides when she was confronted by even the slightest startle or threat, but the shadow pony and encroaching fog overroad her mental block.

Her wings opened and flapped, creating a cushion of air to help her fly. It also had the side effect of dimming her lantern wick. The light shuddered and died from the rush of air.

She set down on the saturated, grassy earth. “No no no no no no no!” The instant her wick went out, the shadows rushed towards her position. She frantically hit the striker on the side of the lantern. The first time, nothing but a spark. Then another spark.

On the third try, the lantern came alive with inviting light. The shadows stopped their advance on the mare in a circle thirty feet in diameter. It was enough to see where she was going and her current direction.

Still, she couldn’t help but be fascinated at the source of her fears.

“Pretty...” The particles in the shadows sparkled and dulled at random intervals, giving the entire black expanse a look of ethereal beauty similar to Will-o'-the-Wisps that occupy the Everfree Forest.

Thump! Thump!

Fluttershy’s heart leapt; there was another pony nearby! Walking right to her, no less.

But there wasn’t only a moment ago before the mist advanced. Fluttershy’s heart dropped into a pit in her stomach. What was it then? The shadow pony? Even if the shadow pony was helping her, it was too scary for her to want to meet it again.

Fluttershy trotted forth a few steps, took off her umbrella, and wormed her way into a hedge to hide. Encircling her lantern with a wing to block out the protruding light, she held her breath and didn’t make a noise.

Thump! Thump!

Fluttershy noticed something strange about the steps. A pony’s steps came in pairs, but this one did not. A single leg for every step forward. Her heart dropped even further; the creature from the portal had two legs. She didn’t want to meet that thing even more than the shadow pony.

Thump! Thump!

She could hear the creature coming closer. Not a breath, not a sound.

Thump! Thump! Th-Thump!

It had stopped right next to her hiding place. The fog had not moved since she kept her lantern lit, but the intertwining vines, leaves, and petals hid almost everything from sight. Only a few pinpricks between the obstruction let her see beyond the confines of the shrub, but her lantern-bleached eyes and the darkness created by the shifting mist made discerning anything utterly impossible.

Thump! Thump! Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!Thump!

She could hear the creature, whatever it was, walk away. Fluttershy counted to ten after she could no longer hear the steps and exhaled the breath she had been holding. That had been an unpleasant experience.

Fluttershy backed out of the shrub and shook off the water that had been drizzling down her neck and back. She dragged the lantern and the umbrella out of the bush. The light was still burning strong; that was good. It looked like there was enough oil to get her back to her house if needed, but her mind was still set on Rainbow’s cloud home. She hoped Rainbow wouldn’t mind her bags being soaked due to the deluge while hiding in the bush, but that was a price to pay. Fluttershy grabbed the umbrella with her teeth and turned to attach it to her saddle.

Fluttershy froze once again. She knew what she was seeing, but her conscious mind could not keep up.

Eyes. Eyes attached to a bipedal creature over twice her height. A pair of glowing eyes looking directly back at her.

Not pony eyes. Alien eyes.

Fluttershy turned and ran.

Her mind was frantic with fear, misplaced or not. Her hooves clopped against the ground with every gallop. She had left the lantern and umbrella, but she did not care. Escape. That was her concern. She was close to Rainbow’s house as it was.

The mist flooded Fluttershy’s vision like some great, dark breaker wave. Her wings spread and she took to the skies, blinded by sheer terror and fear. She couldn’t help it and looked back.

It was right behind her. Right in her face. The creature was either inequinely fast or had used magic to teleport. She did not care. Fear. Escape. It was right behind her.

Following.

The shadows clung to her, but slowly burned off as she made her way upwards.

Flash! Boom!

Fluttershy was nearly knocked out of the sky with the proximity of the thunderclap; it had to have been within a mile.

Upwards she flew, through the black mist clinging to her body. For just a moment, she swore she felt a pressure from the mist dragging her back down. It did not last, for the light started bleeding through the shadows.

Rainbow Dash had her lights on. She was home already.

The closer she came to the cloud home, the more the shadows dissolved in the presence of light. Sweet, merciful light.

She quickly found the front door and wrenched it open.

“Who’s that? I have a knocker, you know!” A voice called from the adjacent room. Rainbow Dash, mane and tail, soaked and plastered to her body, walked into the cloudy door arch. Fluttershy had never been so happy to see the mare.

“Fluttershy! I just heard from Great Scott that some ponies and Princess Celestia are going back to Canterlot. Something about an attack. Can you believe it – Fluttershy? Are you alright? Why are you cryi – ACK!”

Fluttershy had tackled Rainbow Dash, nuzzling her neck and holding her in a death grip.

“Fluttershy, if you want to come over, all you had to do was ask.” Rainbow put her hooves around her friend and attempted to push her off.

“No! No! Please... just... stay here.” Fluttershy whimpered. Rainbow could do nothing as her friend cried into her chest. Rainbow looked out the window and saw nothing but Ponyville and the black expanse of the storm above. She didn’t see anything abnormal or any monster from the Everfree; was Fluttershy that scared of the storm? A fragment of guilt slipped into her mind due to leaving Fluttershy to her own devices so soon after Twilight’s meeting.

There was little else Rainbow could do to help the frightened pony. Fluttershy whimpered and sniffed, and Rainbow stroked her back and mane, letting her release whatever sadness and fear she had accumulated. The two remained on the floor, one weeping and vulnerable, the other doing all she could to comfort a distressed friend.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter: Commentary: LINK
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Deathscar

Chapter 14: Infiltration

Chapter 14: Infiltration

I never cease to amaze myself with my resourcefulness. The ground had been cleared of debris and selectively replaced with cobblestone. My path to my new sanctuary had been sealed with stone carefully crafted to match the natural cave walls. I had discovered a small deposit of sand near an underground river and had melted it down into glass panes. Coal ore, a much higher rarity in this world, was scarce but still plentiful enough to light up the cave.

It was all I could do to keep my mind busy. I worked best, thought best, while I was moving. I built a mansion, five stories tall and nearly as broad as the entire cavern. I lit the building up with torches, chandeliers, and fireplaces. Wooden doors, iron fences, hidden chests, water containers, diamond blocks, I poured my resources into my new home to make it feel... home-y. My newly grown beard approves.

But the diamonds. Oh, there were so many diamonds there. My Overworld problem was an abundance of ore and a shortage of gemstones. Here, my problem was inverted. Coal was in dreadfully short supply, but I had acquired so many diamonds, I didn’t know what to do with them all. That was something I never thought I would have a problem with.

The Overworld is rich in ores, but the truly valuable or versatile ores, diamond, redstone, and obsidian from cooled lava, are in the deepest levels. Down there, monsters roam and the Void Fog hides all but a few meters in front of my face. Diamonds are scarce and I usually only have a few dozen at the very most. I can craft diamonds into the strongest armor and the most durable of tools. Diamond is among the most useful and versatile resource I know.

So it is an interesting sensation when I discovered I had acquired more diamonds than I knew what to do with. I made a full set of armor and tools, along with spare swords due to having lost my iron blade. Diamond pickaxes hollowed out my cavern while diamond shovels cleared the rubble and refuse. I ran out of items to use diamonds on, so I started crafting them into cubes to save space in my chests. I used my spare wood to craft chests to store the excess gemstones that I could not identify, but I was quickly running out of space for diamonds as well.

I walked through my modest home, by my standards anyway. The creatures above had small, compact homes. How do they even walk around in such cramped quarters? My home had broad hallways and high ceilings, all lit with torches and the exterior walls with vast pane glass windows. Granted, those creatures were much smaller than myself, but I would imagine they would spare a little time for a more spacious residence.

Now that I think about it, none of the creatures I had seen so far displayed any type of power similar to my own to build. I had wondered how Testificates, those wordless, nameless villagers, built their houses in the Overworld, but I never pressed the issue. How did those creatures build homes without powers? Or fingers, for that manner?

That was just another question in my very long line of questions. I needed to start writing them down. Note to self: needed more wood to write on.

Despite the splendor of my home, it was still missing much. It lacked my usual decorative flair, mostly because I had no wool to use and no plants to create a garden. I loved gardens, such peaceful, relaxing places. That was not, however, the only resource I was lacking.

I had but two loaves of bread left. I was dreadfully short on food.

The Overworld had very rare, but occasional, mushrooms growing in the underground. I explored the caves a little, and even briefly ventured to the surface, but I was not willing to go much farther until I had a stable base of operations. I had spent my time building, because my best thinking comes from building. Through this, I knew several, key facts.

I needed to return for food.
These creatures had a remarkable level of intelligence, far greater than the creatures of the Overworld.
I had absolutely no idea how a Nether Portal transported me here.
I was being hunted by the quadrupedal creatures.
I was as of yet uncertain if another Nether Portal could return me home.

I returned to the surface to gain a point of reference, during the day, no less. The town was absolutely swarming with those creatures. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. The easy way out would be to gather lava and create a Nether Portal, but that could take some time. Food was a higher priority, but I couldn’t enter a swarmed town and take what I need.

However, I remembered during my first few minutes in town at night; the place was nearly deserted. Was the inverse true here? Did creatures rest at night, and come out during the day? I sleep only to wait until the dawn, because that is the time when creatures cease spawning in the dark. I don’t need to sleep. but perhaps these creatures do. Regardless of that fact, I required resources.

My choice was unpleasant, but an absolute necessity. I needed to enter the town.

I wouldn't need much, just a single seed. Perhaps I could locate some pigs or cows and start a breeding farm.

No. It would take much too long to lure them into a safe, contained place. I must be swift and quiet. I needed a seed.

I had done little to the extensive tunnel network surrounding my new home. Several crevasses and tunnels lead away, but I sealed them all up... especially the one I came from. I wanted only one way in and out. Sealed off by more smooth stone, it was a flawless barricade that none but Endermen and a creeper's explosion could penetrate. With a few swings of my axe, I can break open a path that leads me to the start of the tunnel complex. I must sacrifice smooth stone, but it is a small price to pay for my guaranteed safety.

The cave complex directly outside my home opens up to a pathway running parallel to an underground river. I so very much wish to enjoy the wonderful, soothing melody of running water that this new world provided. If a blanket could be made of sound, I would describe the running of water. I loved that sound.

I walked down the tunnel that lead me to the surface, torch in hand. I traced my path twice the first time I left, doing my best to hammer the path into my horrible memory. However, about halfway through my trek, I discovered an odd sign. I crossed an intersecting tunnel, one long-abandoned, but I saw something I did not see before. Some stones had scratches, four horizontal cuts in them at intermittent intervals. I could not ascertain whether they lead to the left or the right, but that did not concern me as long as they did not lead to my home.

What happened next was both unexplainable and unique enough enough to leave me completely unprepared. I felt a pressure near the back of my skull and images burst into my mind.

I was in a cave on a mountain overlooking a vast plain. I could not see it behind walls of pitch-black clouds, but I knew it was there. I could feel the tang of lighting in the air, the roar of the wind, and the moisture in the air. Something... hissed behind me, but I did not turn to see it.

I stumbled as the vision abruptly ended as quickly as it began. I had no idea what happened. What could I possibly think? What was behind me on the mountain? It didn’t sound like a creeper; that was a relief.

Thoughts darted across my mind. Was this something unique to this world? What just happened?

That familiar instinct reared its head: fight or flight? What was I to do? I was leaning towards staying home now. I was safe underground behind walls of stone. But was I to do if I succumbed to fear and stayed home? I needed food, and I had yet to find mushrooms growing in the damp and the dark. There was a civilization up there. There must be some form of sustenance.

However, that was not a justifiable reason to shake the vision from my consciousness. I saw something, something that I could not possibly have seen. Something I had never seen. I do not deny that the sudden onslaught startled and unnerved me, but what could I do? I would not survive holded up underground for much longer. As much as I dreaded it, I needed to leave. Hopefully, if the fates are kind to my pitiful soul, I might be able to discover answers. How did I get here? What did I just see? What creatures call the land their own?

I must leave.

Dig dig dig dig dig...

I am good at digging. I don't know what that says about me. Good? Bad? It gets me around. I'm pretty certain that is a benefit.

Diggity dig dig dig. A pick for stone, a shovel for dirt.

It was only a quick trip up to the surface, but I did not wish to tread across the forest or out in the open. One I cleared the underground, I started digging east toward town. I wanted to dig my way to town, not approach it directly. The beasts of this land were cunning and deadly; this less time I spent in coverless terrain, the higher my chances of survival. I judged my options as fairly as I could, given the lack of any concrete and finite data I had concerning these creatures and their habits. I did not wish to confront them; my best estimates to that option would be hostility if my previous encounters proved to be a fair judge of their behavior.

But when I thought about it, that was not entirely correct. I still recalled meeting the sovereign almost 150 days previous. Wait, different times. How long had it been on this world? Was it day or night right now? That was a foolish lack of knowledge on my part. A quick dig to the surface would fix that.

I swung my pick upwards, absorbing the materials I dug as I progressed. It was not difficult to create steps; absorb three meters of vertical headroom for each step and leave a one meter incline for said step. Simple, yet efficient. At least my abilities had not been altered since my entrance in this odd, awful place.

I pondered the sovereign's actions as I ascended to the surface. The soldier was quick, efficient, and brutal; if I had been any less prepared, I would have been slaughtered. The sovereign... she showed me mercy. Why? Whatever arcane power threw me off my feet should have been enough to slay me in a single moment. Did she believe I no longer posed any threat? Was I to be harvested for materials as I do to the creatures that infest the Overworld? Kill or be killed, what purpose was there to attack, and then suddenly change her mind?

That mystery has evaded me since our encounter. I have contemplated that event in my trek through the underground and my construction work on my new house. The why eludes me, but not the how. These things, these quadruped beasts, they equal my level of intelligence. Only the Endermen displayed any reaction to me, though only through my own machinations that harm them or acknowledging their presence through a wayward glance.

These things do not react with the passive docility of farm animals or tamed pets. They do not have the innate hostility towards my presence like the monsters of my homeland; their motives are far more complex than simple eradication of my existence. And I do not even know where to start to describe the differences between the tall Endermen and these unique beasts.

I heard the surface before I knew I was upon it. It was like a million marching feet, all stomping at intervals imposed by a chaotic, self-imposed rhythm. I had experienced the wonders of wind and waterfalls. I then experienced this bliss of rain.

Torch in one hand and shovel in the other, I absorbed the cobblestone above me and became immediately engulfed in a torrential flood of water. It was cold and made me shiver as I became drenched in a second, but the feeling of it all, the rapturous burst of impulses it generated were equally cerebral as my past experiences. Rivulets of water rushed down my chest and back, the scents of moisture and earth saturated the air, and I felt a metallic tang in the back of my throat that kept building and building until –

I saw a flash of lightning in the distance. Thunderstorm... how marvelous.

I took a moment to hoist myself out of the hole and immediately retreated back into it, sealing the cobblestone above my head. I was in the middle of and right below a cobblestone street and a lone creature was on a direct course to me. The light of my torch would have surely given me away. Please oh please, you think it was a trick, just a trick of the light. To my great fortune, I heard the creature walk across the stone without faltering in the slightest. It did not see me. So far, so good. I did not wish to draw unwanted attention.

An alley intersected the street to both my left and right, so I could safely rise from the surface and make plans from there. All I needed was a makeshift stairway, and, after absorbing my torch to prevent unneeded light, I was soon above ground for the first time in days. Or however long I had been gone from the surface.

And that stupid moon was still there. Why did it not cross the sky in seven minutes like it should?

I sealed the entrance to my tunnel with dirt and hugged the wall of one of the buildings. The rain was furious in its sheer volume, another event that I may need to grow used to sooner rather than later. The rain, as glorious and fantastic as I thought it to be, it, like almost everything I have seen so far, operated by different rules. Water collected in indents and containers wherever I looked. Equal mass distribution. Very fascinating.

I was about to move out, but I immediately returned to hugging the wall. I had by chance seen in the sky a trio of shapes flying overhead. I could not ascertain what they were, but I was fairly certain they were the same type of creature as the soldier in the forest.

I waited until they passed and peeked out into the street. All clear. I rushed to the adjacent alleyway, making a note to watch the skies as equally as the ground. No monsters spawned in the dark, that I noticed, but the town was rife with all sorts of new dangers. The beating I received at the hands – hoofs. I must get my terminology correct – of the soldier.

I never expected the night to become my ally. I am terrified of the dark, mostly. I cannot suppress a tiny, nervous fear every time I enter the shadows. It is where the monsters and beasts lay claim. I had seen neither hide nor hair of the monsters of the Overworld.

...but what was that beast in my vision? It was unlike anything I had ever heard before, but I still felt that same emotion upon approaching Overworld monsters. Fearful reverence. I was in the domain of something greater.

I shoved that thought into the back of my mind. The world was already strange enough, and I did not need bothersome questions distracting me from my objective. I could worry about those matters later.

That did not mean my fears were assuaged. I did not like the dark. In fact, I was compelled to light it up with my newly acquired torches, but I knew how dangerous that could be. Something as simple and out of place as a torch in a land that I had not even seen use torches would cause unwanted attention. I did not need trails leading the enemy to me. So, out of necessity rather than desire, I stuck to the shadows between buildings.

That did not make progress easy, or swift for that matter. I saw patrols fly above, on average, every ten minutes. They flew low to avoid the lightning, but that cleverness was to my disadvantage. I had only so little time to hide when I heard the steady flapping of wings. Around buildings, I moved. In the shadows, I hid. I did not get far from my escape path. Two hundred fifty four steps in a half hour. My search progress was slow, but getting caught would be disastrous.

Luckily, I did not have to play that painstaking game for long. I dreaded the realization that the center of town was too lit up for my comfort, meaning so many lights cast fewer shadows. However, I had the fortune to come across a building with a small farm enclosed in a backyard. Wheat. My target had been found.

I absorbed the stalks and got the hell out of there, trying my best to make my way back to my exit. DId I even mention I have horrible memory? I do. Cobblestone center street. That’s where I came out of. Find the largest cobblestone street once – if – I forget where to go next. Oh, I’d hate to get caught based on my own, shallow forgetfulness. That’d be embarrassing if I didn’t get killed.

However, my luck at avoiding attention had run out. Searching the garden had garnered too much time and the next patrol was on my heels. Upon hearing the spine-tingling sound of flapping feathers, I hugged the wooden structure adjacent to the garden in the hopes I could, hopefully, not be seen.

Thump!

Oh no. They landed. I could hear them babbling in their native tongue.

They were around the corner to my left, so I picked the obvious path: right. I half inched, half sprinted around the corner, trying my best to escape as quietly as possible. Oh, I did not want to get caught. Dealing with three creepers is difficult enough, but these creatures were smart.

I had turned the corner, but I could hear the creature’s steps in the muddy water turn as well. Only twenty feet or so. So close, so close. Too close for shadows to work. I needed to hide, and I needed to stay hidden.

The lights were still on in the house to my back, but the one in front of me was not. Sanctuary. Sweet, sanctuary.

I conjured a diamond axe and swung at the wooden house, dislodging a cube of wood immediately, than another to clear enough room to walk through I took a step –

Wait, no ground beneath my feet.

Ah, crap.

I plummeted about five feet. My leg stung, but I put the pain in a holding place in my head and jumped, getting close enough to seal the breach. I still felt in my mind the materials I absorbed through chipping a hole in the wall. All I needed to do was reach out to them in my mind and call them out.

I hugged the wall, waiting to see if I had managed to successfully thwart my pursuers. However, I could not hear a thing. Not a peep, not a footfall. What material was this wall made of if it could block sound?

I turned to the wall and ran a hand over the surface. They were solid wood, walls covered in thick, fluffy material. Strange. Why?

Only then, due to not being able to hear pursuit, did I observe my surroundings. The room had only one exit and was dark and filled to the brim with strange devices I had ever seen. I saw hollow cylinders on vertical, metal stands with two wooden sticks set on each cylinder. A large, wooden monstrosity with eighty eight wooden tabs colored either white or black. There was a small, golden device with bits of string connecting its top and bottom halves. Inset in a closet, several metal tubes with several holes in them sat collecting dust.

Out of curiosity, I tapped two of the black tabs on the wooden device. A pair of notes, loud and clear, echoed in the room. I blinked back surprise. Sound?

Music?

I taped two more keys, this time on the far left. The next set of notes was deeper, but still resonated all the same. I couldn’t help but smile stupidly. I really didn’t understand how a creature without fingers could play such instruments, but it was marvelous all the same. I needed redstone, some wood, and a whole lot of time in order to perform one song, and even then, that song cannot be changed without a vast amount of work. I needed almost a kilometer of redone just for a few songs. It conducts a currents, and that current plays a note from a noteblock.

But this device, compact as it was, could play whatever I wanted it to. For the next minute or so, I experimented with the notes. High notes, low notes, sharps, flats.. It didn’t take long to figure out which was which after a few taps of the keys.

...So I kneeled by the instrument and began to play.

It was such a melodious and wonderful sound to behold. It was not a redstone circuit of noteblocks, not some random, insane creation of mine, but something I produced on my own. No powers, just... my soul in acoustic form, brought out by a wonderful instrument and the heart of a builder. Every bar struck, every chord produced, came together in a harmony that was oh so heavenly to my ears. For the first time since I came to this new world, and even the weeks preceding my departure, I felt a genuine smile of contentment cross my lips.

It was one of the choppy songs I orchestrated and built with redstone under my many homes, but I was happy. I couldn’t stop myself. Was it the situation itself? For a few, brief moments, I did away with running, the pain, the confusion, and I just relaxed and enjoyed the moment. It was a cerebral experience, and equally fleeting.

I heard a noise, the same garbled speech from the creatures, coming from right behind me. I turned around, conjuring up my diamond sword and swung with all my strength.

And I stopped. To this day, I cannot fathom what made me stop my attack. Doing so would have cemented my status as a fiend and outlaw in these creature’s eyes, a status I might very well deserve. Thinking back, striking would have been the rational choice; save for my brief suspicions about the sovereign, all other creatures hailing from this curvaceous land have attempted to slay me. I did not have a reason to hold back.

Was it my suspicions? My gut instinct about these creature’s nature? Did I halt my swing in a likely vain hope that my kindness would bear fruit?

I shouldn’t have, if I was thinking clearly. I walked the same path when the Endermen first entered the Overworld so long ago. I was betrayed, my kindness was met with hostility and violence. I discovered I was no longer alone in my wide, wide world. Then I discovered I could not communicate with them under fear of death. Never before had my heart and hope been crushed with extreme prejudice. My fear of these new lands stemmed from those first, fateful encounters.

Was it its eyes, so full of curiosity and desire? If anything, the creature should have hated me more than any other; it was the same light-green one I attacked with a Potion of Weakness. It just stood there, eyes full of wonder and a smile across its lips. I looked into its eyes, and it looked into mine. It – she; she had the same child-bearing hips as the sovereign – did not see me as a threat. ‘Twas a gamble on both our parts, if anything. She did not attack despite me towering over her, and I did not because of that.

My blade was at her throat, but she did not seem to mind one bit; quite the oblivious one, that creature. Or narrow-minded; I could not be certain at that particular point in time. The creature lifted a leg, some kind of band was around its leg, oddly enough, and waved.

I was stunned into... I didn’t have a word for it at the time. Stupidity? Vapidity? Whatever. I couldn’t help myself; with my sword still at her throat, I waved back with my other hand.

The creature’s smile widened in delight and she giggled childishly. My blade severed a few hairs while she laughed and I lowered my sword.

She did not appear to be a threat. Hope, it must have been some inane, insane hope that drove me to let down my guard. It had to have been a mad hope indeed. I was starved for emotional stimulation. How long had I walked the Overworld? How many days? How many years? I don’t know. My desire for companionship, however brief, overrode my basic survival instincts. I may have discovered an equal at last. In front of me was a lifeform not after my blood.

Sweet, wonderful release, I was at last not afraid.

The creature pointed a limb at itself and said very slowly in its strange language, “Lie... rah...”

I did not understand, so the creature repeated itself, “Lie... rah.”

I backed away from the creature, just to give myself a little breathing room in case I needed it. The quadruped did not seem to mind. in fact, she started pointing at different artifacts in her abode and spoke, starting with the instrument I just operated, “Pea... ah... no...” Then to the protrusion on her head, “You... knee... corn...”

Then she pointed at me. I cocked my head in confusion. What was she doing? “Lierah,” she said again while pointing to herself, then she pointed back to me.

Names...

Names... this creature had names for everything, even itself. Sure, I had names for items in my own land. Redstone, Creepers, Endermen, but I did not have a name for myself. Why would I need one? I am the only being I can talk to in the Overworld. A name to call my own would serve me no purpose in a world that is home to myself and myself alone, considering I understand the Endermen even less than these strange creatures.

Did I even remember how to speak? How long has it been?

I shook my head. I don’t know if the creature misunderstood my intent as an unwillingness to share, but her smile fell and her eyes drooped.

My thoughts were cut short. The two of us had heard a noise in the doorway behind this ‘Lierah.’ I heard the same garbled language, as did she. Her eyes widened in panic, as did mine.

We were both so enraptured by each other, we did not hear another walking down the same set of steps Lierah descended to find me. This creature, one with blue and pink hair, walked into the doorway with a hoof rubbing at her eyes. I heard something that sounded like Lierah’s name, but the newcomer stopped short when it saw me. Our eyes met and it froze. I recognized the processes running through it’s mind; I had the same experiences every time I faced a monster I had not faced before: first curiosity at something new, then surprise, then a little bit of anger, worry, then fear, confidence, and, lastly, the warm feeling of bravery.

It stayed on fear.

The creature screamed at the top of its lungs and pointed at me. The warmness at first contact and a brief reprieve from my running vanished like smoke. Replacing my sword with my axe, I swung it at the opposite wall and remove a cube of wall, revealing the moist dirt behind it. I heard Lierah call out and I turned for a moment, just a moment. The newcomer had it’s legs around Lierah and was fighting tooth and nail to drag her up the steps, babbling incoherently all the while. Lierah was conflicted, torn between the same desire of communication I had, and the likely need of conferencing with her associate.

I did not stay and watch the outcome of her dilemma; I returned to my digging and sealed the wall behind me.

I dug upwards and returned to the surface. It was a shallow basement, by my standards anyway, and I had no problem beating the newcomer to the surface. I sprinted back to my tunnel and heard, from the direction of Lierah’s house behind me, the newcomer screeching in the street. I recalled my first experience with these creatures, the same one after I had attacked Lierah; if they made loud enough noises, others would come.

Oh, crap. I did not wish to face the soldier or the sovereign again. Not again. Not ever again. I barely survived the first time.

My memory, horrible as it was, was good enough to remember the path back to my underground tunnel. Turn at the cake house, run across the town square, past town hall, and back down the alley.

The sound of wind blasted my ears as I entered the street. The wind had picked up and howled ever so fiercely. Rain pelted my shirt and I nearly lost my footing as I hydroplaned across a small puddle.

It happened again. For an instant, I felt a small pressure in the back of my head, and then a vision forced itself on me for a second time. I stumbled backwards, back into the alley, and my mind flooded with images that were not my own.

I was following something. No, I was chasing something, but I could not feel my limbs moving in the slightest. I couldn’t see; darkness was all around me, yet I was still moving. How was that possible?

Darkness. Movement. Fear. Not mine, something else’s. I could taste it. I could smell it. Fear. Raw, untempered fear.

The Darkness...

No... not darkness. Fog. Tiny, almost imperceptible, wisps off black fog. The Void Fog. Again? What was it doing here?

For a brief moment, the fog parted and I saw my quarry for the first time: the cream-colored creature with pink hair.

My next conscious memory was me on my hands and knees, gasping for breath back on the cobblestone street. What had I just witnesses? Why was I chasing the creature?

I had no time to ponder that. I heard them and the sound they make, the distinct sound of their wings. I got up and sprinted to my hidden pit, but was immediately thrown off my feet as something large and very heavy crashed into me.

I rolled across the cobblestone, limbs flailing wildly until I came to a stop. I hopped to my feet, sword in hand on the way up and I examined my foe.

It was one of the biggest creatures I had seen in my life. It looked like one of the quadrupeds, but it was by far the largest I’ve seen, bulk-wise. Spiders are fairly big, and this creature looked like it could kill one merely by stepping on it. The sovereign is fairly large herself, but the tightly-corded muscles and compact size easily set this one apart from all others so far.

The creature, wearing a black, waterproof cloak and a white, bristled helmet, glared daggers at me. I couldn’t help but take a step back out of reflex. What did I ever do to you? I haven’t even tried to see if I could eat your kind yet.

The quadruped lifted a limb and slowly removed its helmet. It was a big one; that would make it hard to see in the dark and rain. Indeed a clever strategy on its part.

The creature tossed its helmet to the side and loudly whistled into the night. I blinked in surprise, but not do to its sudden, inexplicable desire to make noise; it had the same stylized pink hair of the one I saw in my vision.

To even the odds ever so slightly, I pounded my chest with my sword-clenched fist. Rivulets of energy wrapped around my chest in a second and hardened into a diamond chest piece. I did not believe I would have the time to fully equip myself, but it would have to do.

It was a good thing I held back. The instant I made the gesture, the creature charged, charged faster than something with its bulk had the right to. I shifted right to deflect the impending collision and swung.

I might as well had not even tried. At the last moment, the creature splayed open a set of wings I did not even see and her speed drastically increased. Oh, I knew what was going to happen and I knew it was going to hurt.

The creature tackled me with enough force to knock the wind out of me and almost drop my sword. I blinked back the stars... but we still hadn’t landed or rolled to a stop. What?

Crash!

The creature had used its wingpower to propel us through the air and crash into the nearest building. My vision dipped into black and my sword dropped with a resounding clang. I could feel wood splinter and creak behind me. Oh, I was in so much pain at that moment and very likely had several broken bones.

The creature glared at me with a look that froze me to me very marrow. Its eyes were laced with a cold, tight fury, one barely constrained behind the battle fever enveloping us both.

I knew I would be too slow to do what I needed, but I had to at least try. I brought out my pickaxe and prepared to swing. The futility proved true, for despite the creature’s size, its speed was remarkable. I initiated an attack and my guard was down, something which I guessed it knew I would do. It ducked and turned, avoiding my attack and setting itself up for a counter. Rearing up on its forelegs, it kicked me.

If I wasn’t wearing my armor, I might have been killed instantly. The force resounded through my diamond armor, the strongest material I can craft; that was quite an impressive feat. The wall I was braced against shattered under the blow and I was propelled through the wall and into a large living room. Wood rained down on me as I flew through the air and eventually rolled to a stop. Splinters dug into my skin and I coughed to try to get my lungs working properly.

I felt like I just hugged a creeper.

Without missing a beat, it flew through the me-sized hole in the wall. The creature still possessed the same, icy glare as when we started. I had imagined that the other soldier was bad, the one with thick, leathery wings. This beast with its burly body and feathered wings was in a whole new league; powerful, methodical and efficient.

I was too injured to resist the creature and had lost my pick on my trip through the wall. With one, great heave, the creature hoisted me onto its shoulders, spun to gain momentum, and threw me again. This time through a window.

At least it had variety.

I was looking upwards at a house in the sky. The cream-colored creature was flying up to it for all it was worth. I was not moving and was being enveloped by thick layers of Void Fog. Void Fog never moves. It just sits there, forever dormant in the light of my torches.

...But from my vision, there was no source of light other than lightning. I have never witnessed what the Fog did without lighting.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of billowing Void Fog. It wasn’t just restless, it was tumultuous. Whatever Void Fog that was in my direct line of sight congealed into a single ribbon and lashed out at me.

What happened next terrified me more than anything I had ever experienced. More than entering this new world, more than fighting the soldier, more than seeing the monster in the dark. I’ve faced groups of creepers and Endermen, and even that did not provoke the stomach-churning horror I experienced next. I haven’t spoken for hundreds of years, and I heard my own voice, as clear as the last time I spoke, say two, simple words.

“Get out.”

There was no time to ponder the vision. The shards of glass cut through my skin as I flew through the air. I seemed to be doing that a lot, and it only hurts more each time. Dazed, confused, and in a world of hurt, I could only look around in a blur as the creature calmly walked out the shattered remains of the window. A glass door-window? Why didn’t I think of that?

I was half delirious with pain, but I knew when I was about to face death. Those cold eyes, the eyes of my reaper, kicked in those basic instincts of self preservation. My pain dulled, adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I stood, shakily, and conjured a cobblestone block to shield me from the creature’s wrath.

It didn’t help much either. The creature turned, tore a fence post out of the ground, and threw it at my with frightening speed. I could not conjure more cobblestone in time, so I replaced the globule of cobblestone energy in my hand with a diamond sword. I deflected the mistle with ease, but the creature was not through with me yet.

In the time it took for me to conjure my sword, the creature had darted towards me, displaying even more of its impressive speed. It hopped up onto the cobblestone cube to attain the high ground, but I had regained my composure enough to swing my blade.

The creature, upon seeing the impending strike, jumped to my right. It winced as the blade slashed against its armor with a resounding screech. The sound made me flinch in the cold downpour, the sound of metal against sword screeching was something I never worried about, but the sound in this world sent shivers down my spine.

The fight was bordering on two minutes at that points. I was hungry, exhausted, and starting to shudder from my wet clothes plastering to my skin. The fight against the juggernaut was, at best, a war of attrition, and one I would lose.

I tightened my grip on my sword, only then seeing a tiny rivulet of crimson staining the tip. I had wounded the creature, but only just. Whether my attack had found an unarmored spot or I simply cut through its armor, I did not know. Throughout the entire battle, I had been forced back on the defensive. Creepers are deadly foes, but are manageable in single or small numbers. These beasts weren’t just clever, they were trained for battle. I was a survivalist, not a warrior. I would die if the fight continued.

I switched my sword for a pick axe and used my shovel’s magic to remove a cube of cobblestone from the road. After dropping into the hole, I prepared my shovel and dig my way to freedom.

That was the plan until I saw the behemoth flying towards me out of the corner of my eye. I had conjured my bow and fired a wild shot in that time, but everything went black.

The darkness was fleeting, but the new pain in my skull was not. I had been dragged out of the hole and my eyes were pointed to the heavens, lazily watching the rain come pouring down in never-ending torrents. The behemoth was glaring at me. No, it was glaring down at me; only then did I feel the hard, cold stone at my back. It put a hoof to its mouth and whistled, once again, a loud, shrill note that only traveled so far in the cacophonous malestrom. I could see, as it lifted a leg, that a wooden shaft protruded under its wing. It didn’t even care, if it noticed at all.

Splash!

Another creature, one bearing a remarkable resemblance to the first soldier I encountered, landed next to a puddle. I heard another splash, than another. Very soon, I was surrounded by soldiers in addition to the juggernaut. They surrounded me, all staying a respectful twenty feet or so away.

Weakened, battered and bruised, I dragged myself to my knees and stayed there. I scanned my enemies, twelve in all, plus the one that single-handedly delivered my defeat. Thirteen creatures, and I wouldn’t survive a fight with a single one.

Complacency was at fault. I knew I needed to learn, and learn fast, what these creatures were capable of. My duel with the soldier could have been called a draw, at best. The juggernaut alone could have killed me if it hadn’t stopped in its tracks.

I clenched my hand reflexively and did not feel the familiar feel of springy wood beneath my fingertips. The juggernaut has wisely disposed of my weapon.

Outmanned and outclassed, I was.

What to do?

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
Edited by: DMDeck16, Wolfmaster1337, Maverick Frond

Author's Note

Did you know there was a deleted scene here? There totally was! You can find it HERE.

Chapter 15: Achievement: Monster Hunter

Chapter 15: Achievement: Monster Hunter

The missive Captain Barricade received from Major Stormcloud had thrown whatever good mood she acquired from meeting her daughter right into the gutter. Canterlot herself attacked by some suicidal monster, several confirmed casualties, and a breach in the castle walls; while she, one of the leading figures of the Equestrian military, had been planning the capture of some escaped monsters, the very heart of the country had been attacked under her nose.

“We are recalling excess patrols, along with Princess Celestia’s Honor Guard and the Princess herself, and returning to Canterlot at once. Princess Luna will stay in Ponyville to resume the search for the creatures,” Major Stormcloud sighed exasperatedly. “These past few days... they will be the death of me. You would think, given what has occurred ever since the Mare on the Moon that I would be used to this by now. Perhaps I’m getting a little too old for this job...”

The Major ran a hoof through his iron-gray mane. Regaining his composure, he continued his report for the Captain. “You are still in charge of Base Site Command. More recent events have just complicated matters, is all.”

“Thank you for the notice, Major.” Barricade saluted and left the command tent.

Barricade was fuming all the way to her post, caring only enough to throw on a black rain coat to ward off the moisture and cold. Rain poured and poured and poured, never stopping and never showing any signs of intending to do so in the foreseeable future. The unfavorable weather, along with the poor line-of-sight, abundance of hiding places, and the obfuscation of the night itself made a battle on the cobble Ponyville streets even more detering. Those were the conditions Captain Barricade chose to fight in when she decided to engage the escaping creature on her own.

She barely caught it herself, even though the street she was gliding over was well lit in the dull, yellow glow of street lamps. The creature, right in front of her, was running across alleyways as if he was being chased by Discord himself. Here the creature was, right in front of her! How did it get there!?

Barricade shoved those thought to the side. Capturing or, if necessary, killing the creature should be top priority. How it had entered Ponyville without detection would be an issue for another time. Lieutenant Chaser’s report was thorough enough on the creature’s behavior, given the details the night Guard had attained during her fight. Without even a psychological profile to work with, Barricade’s best bet was to wing it, pardon the pun.

‘Is it worth it?’ Barricade thought to herself.

Barricade understood that he could summon objects seemingly out of nowhere; that alone made the monster a force to be reckoned with. He had already thwarted one full on frontal assault by the Lieutenant, so would an attack under identical circumstances produce a more beneficial outcome?

‘No, not identical.’ Lieutenant Chaser was a formidable fighter; she needed to be to be appointed to Princess Luna’s personal guard. However, the Lieutenant entered the fray completely blind to the creature’s abilities. They knew them now. They knew the creature was strong, but prefered to run if confronted. That implied he was a survivalist, not a fighter.

Barricade was both. Equipped with the knowledge of the creature and the capability of defending herself, the odds were in her favor.

‘If you can learn, so can he.’ Against her wishes, a little nagging voice in the back of her mind warned her of the flaw in her thinking. It was not an unreasonable argument, but –

“No.”

Barricade nosedived the creature and thrust her full weight into it as she passed. He was flung off his feet and tumbled to a stop. Barricade, not willing to get too close just yet, glided a safe distance away. The creature scrambled to his feet.

Barricade glared at the creature, which was proving to be a problem in the weather at the time. Ponyville streetlights were fair, given the limited resources of such a rural hamlet. Of course, due to the blanket of night and the massive thunderstorm drenching the land as far as the eye could see, such illumination proved insufficient for Barricade; she could barely see more than twenty feet in front of her. Reluctantly, the Captain removed her helmet; the hunk of iron would protect her from attack, but that protection would be a moot point if she couldn’t see in the rain. The instant she removed her helm, her long, pink locks became instantly saturated in the downpour. Barricade made a mental note to cuss out Rainbow Dash for the inconvenience.

‘Well... now what...? Of course!’ Barricade held a hoof to her mouth and whistled as loud and shrill as possible. The Major spoke of returning patrols. Maybe, just maybe, she could catch the attention of one of them, if neutralizing the creature proved too difficult. She also made a mental note to buck herself in the head when the fight was over; this exact circumstance had happened with both Sergeant Jetstream and Lieutenant Chaser, and it didn’t work out well for either of them.

The creature had taken a moment to don armor with its unique powers, but that split-second was just enough time for Barricade. She blitzed the creature, fanning her wings at the last moment to give her a burst of speed.

The trick worked; the creature, anticipating a slower attack, could do nothing to prevent Barricade tackling him in a bear hug. She pumped her wings for all they were worth, gritting her teeth as she propelled herself and her biggest burden to date.

The pair crashed into one of Ponyville’s many building. Barricade felt the wooden structure creak under her attack and the creature ribs cracking under the abuse. Barricade quickly removed herself from the creature’s range. It’s face was a contorted mask of pain and rage.

‘Good. Anger makes it easy to beat you. Anger makes you sloppy, and being sloppy makes you predictable.’

The creature, its sword lost to its grip on the collision, stepped forward and conjured a pickaxe with an turquoise, angular gleam. Diamond? Odd.

The creature’s wounds were taking their toll, and that was to Barricade’s advantage. The creature swung, but the strike was easily televised to the experienced soldier’s eyes. Intake of breath, constricted pupils, tightened muscles, all easy tells for a trained warrior. Using one of her legs as a fulcrum, Barricade sunk low and shifted her weight in a circle, leaving plenty of room to dodge the attack and shift her weight around. Rearing up on her front hooves, she bucked for all she was worth, putting every ounce of pent-up frustration into the attack.

The wooden wall smashed in an explosion of fury and wooden splinters. The fight hadn’t even lasted a minute, and already it was getting the better of her.

‘Calm down. Think.’ She didn’t want to end up wounded and alone like Ms. Chaser, or do something incredibly stupid like Sergeant Jetstream. Granted, she had the excuse of confirmed visual contact, but that was no reason to go off charging into danger.

‘Think.’ She hopped up through the hole, staring down the dazed creature.

Reports said it could conjure items at will, and most of them, that could harm her, anyway, were melee weapons. That just meant to stay out of close quarters combat whenever necessary, except when it drew out its bow. Why did the Lieutenant have so much more trouble than her?

‘Because you’re not learning like her, you’re only blitzing him until you win.’

Speed. That’s it. The Lieutenant was learning about his strategies and powers during her fight, but Barricade had the combined knowledge and ingenuity of an entire garrison to work with. But that would only work if the creature had not learned from the battle nearly as much as the Night Guard.

‘Than that means he’s not a soldier, and that’s to my advantage.’

Barricade did not give the creature time to recover. Keeping up her battle momentum, she lifted the discombobulated biped and threw him out a sliding glass door.

‘Keep it going!’ Barricade shouted to herself. She exited the building, glass crunching under her boots. The building she had busted open had provided a temporary respite from the downpour, but now that she had left the domicile, the weather was in full force. She hated being soaked to the pinfeathers.

The creature stumbled to its feet. Its movements, once calculated and practiced, had lost their luster due to exhaustion and pain. Still on the defensive, it conjured a solid cube of stone between the dueling pair. Before he could do any more, Barricade ripped up a fence post and tomahawked it at his head. The creature swung its sword to deflect the projectile away, but Barricade had already made her move. Charging at full speed, Barricade leapt onto the cobblestone cube to deliver a finishing blow, but, through sheer force of will, the creature mustered the strength to swing again.

Barricade dove under the swing. A flash of stinging pain seared across her flank. What the hell was that sword made of? It sliced through her armor like it wasn’t even there.

Barricade tucked and rolled across the cobblestone street and took a moment to examine the wound. Luckily, the cut was superficial; nothing to worry about, but the sword certainly was if it ripped through folded steel blessed by the Council of Magic.

The creature, realizing it could not continue the melee and survive, had thought it best to retreat. Using its peculiar magic, it absorbed a cube of the cobblestone street. Barricade bolted once again, spreading her wings wide and plunged headfirst into the torrential rain. Her cheeks lost warmth and soon feeling, but the pair were already too close to end their next encounter prematurely.

However, Barricade, the easy superior in the foray, had run out of luck at last. Spotting the impending clash between the pair, the creature substituted its tool for a bow. The lighting was nearly nonexistent, the rain was in their eyes, and he had only the scantest line-of-sight. The twang of the bow was lost to the void of the night. Despite the dozens of variables affecting its aim, Barricade could not help but release a gasp of surprise and pain as the arrow dug into her abdomen under her wing.

Barricade’s full weight, armor and all, came crashing down on the creature. His body immediately slackened, crumpling into the shallow hole he had dug. Barricade splayed her wings open, cushioning her rapid descent on a pillow of air.

The creature twitched and fidgeted, either stunned or bordering unconsciousness due to her strike to its cranium. Barricade kicked away its bow. She did not fully understand its abilities, but she did not wish to provide the creature with a weapon upon his exodus of the land of dreams.

She needed backup, so she prepared to whistle for aid once more. As her lungs expanded, she winced in pain. She put it in a temporary holding place and whistled as loud and sharp as she could, ignoring the burst of agony screaming through her abdomen. The creature stirred and began to open his eyes and Barricade used that time to examine her wounds.

Under her left wing, angling very close to her spine, the fletching and wooden shaft of an arrow protruded from her body. For pegasi, a narrow and very small slit in the armor was left clear to allow room for their wings. The arrow missed her wing and armor entirely, but still managed to lodge itself in one of its few weak points.

“Lucky shot,” Barricade spat. That arrow needed to come out and her wounds needed mending, but now was definitely not the time. She was a soldier; she could handle pain.

Barricade spotted a squad of Night Guards flying low to avoid the rampant lightning strikes. Whether they heard her calls or not, she didn’t know, but she put a hoof to her mouth one more time and called.

Barricade backed away as the creature began to rise. He was wounded, as was she, but on the hope that she reinforcements would arrive –

The squad leader banked right towards her position. Barricade couldn’t help but smile. Using the cobblestone road as a crude runway, a group of roughly ten Night Guards circled the the dueling pair.

“Take that side!” one called out, likely the squad leader.

One by one, the Night Guards landed in a circle around the pair. The creature, still shaken from the fight, had only managed to get to his knees and magic a sword into existence. Being so close, yet wisely out of striking range, she could see the creature’s increased respiration and dilated pupils. He was panicking. After three days of evasion games of cat and mouse, at long last, he was caught with nowhere else to run.

One of Night Guards slowly approached Barricade, making special attention to watch the intruder for any signs of danger. “Corporal Shade, Captain. What’s the situation?”

“One contained creature. Keep a safe perimeter of 10 feet at all times unless absolutely necessary. Do not get within arms reach, even under the worst circumstances. He appears to only be able to conjure items from his right hand, so if another fight becomes inevitable, attack from his flank or his left. But for now, let’s just try to keep this thing contained.”

Corporal Shade nodded, and gasped; he had spotted the fletched shaft protruding through Barricade’s feathers and rain cloak. Trickles of red, diluted by rain, streamed down the shaft and stained the white feathers.

“Captain! You – ”

“Not now.”

“But – ”

Barricade wrapped a leg around the Corporal’s neck and yanked him up to her, so that they were staring eye-to-eye. Given Barricade’s considerable bulk, the Corporal’s front legs dangled a foot above the ground.

“Not. Now.”

Barricade dropped the Corporal and resumed staring down the creature. He had stumbled to his feet, but he was still in no condition to continue fighting. He was slouching in pain and barely keeping a grip on his sword. Barricade’s adrenaline was wearing off, but the creature was still wide-eyed and scared. Being scared meant being desperate, and being desperate meant making stupid mistakes that cost lives.

The creature whirled around, flourishing his sword in the process. The guards tensed, all twelve plus the Captain preparing to spring. He pointed his sword towards the rear Night Guard. The Guard spread his legs, preparing to counterattack if need be. The creature turned again, examining each and every Guard in turn. Every time, the Guard tensed for an attack, but neither the soldiers nor the creature made any moves. The soldiers knew better than to attack unprovoked, but the creature’s behavior was inconsistent with reports. He should have run or attacked already. Unless...

“You are surrounded. Surrender yourself and you have my word that no harm shall come to you,” Barricade announced. The creature turned on Barricade, sword ready.

Corporal Shade, however, had other ideas. “Captain! This thing has already proved itself violent enough to attack civilians without cause.”

“All the more reason to take him in alive and find out why. Something’s not been right ever since that second portal appeared. Nothing’s added up, and I want to know why.” Barricade straightened her posture and meet the creature’s gaze. Even though he towered over her, she could see the thoughts running across his eyes. Panic, fear, anger, desperation; he knew he was caught and was looking for a way out. He knew that the Guard would win in a straight fight and he could not use his powers to run away fast enough. Why not blindly strike out, like Lieutenant Chaser predicted?

‘What am I missing here?’ she thought.

“What is your response? Let yourself be detained peacefully, and we can sort this out together.”

The creature stared her down, his blue eyes boring into hers. ‘You are a threat,’ they said. ‘You defeated me.’

‘What do you want? What am I missing?’ She repeated to herself. His eyes glared into hers as if he was trying to worm ihi way into her mind and discover her secrets.

“What’s your answer!?” Barricade boomed. Her deep voice echoed in the confined street, but was quickly swallowed by the maelstrom raging above. “Why won’t you talk?”

He started grinding his teeth from both fear and anger; two emotions that were never good to see in a trapped creature. He showed no signs of responding to Barricade, instead he glared at Barricade and waited for her to make a move. Why was he just standing there?

“Or maybe... you can’t talk...”

The creature still did not respond.

“If you could talk, what would you say?”

‘I don’t want to die,’ drifted across her mind.

Of course. A trapped mouse would fight if cornered by the cat. The mouse fights not to win, but to escape.

And Barricade knew just how to provide one.

Barricade slowly walked towards the creature. She would be walking in breathing funny after this was over; that’s for sure. ‘No.’ Barricade commanded to herself. ‘Stop thinking about the pain.’ She put the resurgence out of her mind and made another, slow step towards the biped.

“Captain...”

“Not now, Corporal.”

The creature backed up a half step. He stepped into an inch-deep puddle, but did not mind; his full attention was placed solely on her. As she paced forward, he backed up, always keeping the distance the same. However, even he knew that his path would lead him right into the hooves of another Night Guard.

He turned around, glaring at the Night Guard through the rain. It would have been an impressive display of fortitude if he wasn’t shaking from cold, fear, and panic.

Barricade walked right up to the creature and stared into his eyes. His sword was only a foot from her head, very easily within striking distance. Of course, her gauntlets were enchanted by the brightest minds in the Council of Magic, but moving her legs fast enough to counter the strike would be tricky. The wound in her side threatened to overtake her mental block, but the same mantra kept the pain at bay. There was work to be done. There was a creature to secure. Pain could wait.

Her concentration broke as she felt a trickle of warm liquid slid down her abdomen within the confines of her armor.

‘Stop.’ She commanded herself. ‘Not now. Don’t focus on that.”

Resisting the urge to flutter her wings and labor her breathing, she glared right back at the creature. Rain fell and lightning flashed, illuminating both faces for their accompanying viewers. Neither paid any attention to the crowd or their jitters at seeing their superior enter such close quarters with a hostile. Together, they were in their own little world, a storm of wills inside the discordant malestrom racing across the blackened skies.

Blue eyes and scruffy beard, green eyes and bubblegum mane. Two creatures that couldn’t be more different meeting to match wits with one another. Neither knew what would happen if the other buckled first, or even if they themselves succumbed to the weight of each other’s gaze.

If only Barricade knew that nothing had ever dominated the Crafter quite like the ponies of this wide, wide world. Such a strong race, willing and able to overcome the idiosyncratic and omnipotent at a moment’s notice. To simply stand up for what one believed in, even if the idea was unpopular or uncouth, was a testament to the drive of their spirit. If only Barricade knew the thoughts racing across the creature’s mind, the eons of loneliness garnered.

Barricade could only watch as the creature’s will snapped.

His sword fell lower.. and lower... until finally it scratched the cobblestone road. His shoulders were slumped, his posture relaxed.

He had surrendered.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary:
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
Edited by: Material Defender, Cor Thunder, Wolfmaster1337

Author's Note

I don't like this chapter. Click the commentary to find out why.

Also, I'd like my reader's opinions. The popular opinion seems to be that the chapters starring my humble miner are the best. I'm curious, what is it about them that you like? Or even dislike? Leave a comment; I look forward to hearing your opinions.

Chapter 16: Escort Quest

Chapter 16: Escort Quest

Captain Barricade could not see the eyes of the creature due to its bowed head and mane of hair shielding its face. In respect of its submission, the very air itself seemed to quite.

“Now now, let’s get back to base.” Barricade tugged on the creature’s shirt.

The creature looked into Barricade’s own eyes with an unidentifiable expression. He clutched the pommelless sword handle tightly, nodded, and took a step towards Barricade. Its boots splashed in a puddle, but his intention was clear: he would follow. Around the building Barricade had thrown him through, he followed, the Night Guards following the unspoken command to keep a loose ring around the pair. Through one of the wider alleys, they walked nearly side-by-side, a hulking pegasus and her bipedal companion. Barricade scooped up her helmet and carefully placed it in her saddlebags, wincing as shifting her body aggravated the arrow wound under her left wing. The creature calmly observed Barricade, sword in hand but ready to follow. She nodded to the biped and he nodded back, a silent exchange of the incorporeal agreement between the pair. For whatever the reason, he switched his weapon to a pickaxe, but Barricade did not see reason to protest the switch; she would rather not have him possess an edged weapon anyway. Down the street she walked, the creature close at her side.

The creature walked next to Barricade, never straying too far from the Captain’s immediate vicinity. His behavior was not something that Barricade anticipated. Was it because she had defeated him in combat. Was he repaying a debt of some kind by listening to her?

‘No, he was still scared and hostile after he woke up...’ She thought. ‘Perhaps he has a cautious respect for those he deems his superior?’ That made more sense. While he was sticking closer to her, his eyes were still sharp and carefully trained on the ring of Night Guards encircling the pair. She would much rather fly back to base, but her injury, the lack of aerial mobility on the creature’s part, and his wiles proved enough reason to make the trip on hoof.

The Night Guards had not said a word since their departure from Ponyville proper, and Barricade was very grateful for that. All eyes, hers included, watched him for any sign of trouble or suspicious movement. The Guard watched him like a tiger stalking prey, and he watched them as a hunter would observe a tiger. Corporal Shade, as jumpy as he was, did not like the creature staring at him for extended periods. As he was guarding the flank, he took a few extra steps to get closer to the creature. As watchful as he was being, the creature noticed it right away.

As the creature turned on his heels, Barricade blinked in surprise as a blob of turquoise energy protruded from his chest and raced down his arm. It was one thing to see the event from a distance, but a whole another to view him up close. It happened unbelievably fast; Barricade wasn’t sure she saw what she did until she remembered the same events described in First Lieutenant Chaser’s report.

Lightning flashed across the sky as if to emphasize Corporal Shade’s foolishness. Although only about ten feet away, the creature’s sword was aimed directly at the Corporal’s head. The rain had longed turned the ground beneath them to mush, the storm had reduced visibility to almost nothing, and they were completely cut off from support and reinforcements. Now was definitely not the time to pick fights.

Barricade stomped towards the Corporal. The biped, whether out of understanding of her blackened mood or simple twitchy reflexes, backed away as she approached.

“Captain, I —”

Barricade cut the Corporal off by grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and yanking the helpless Guard up to her eyes once more. His helmeted noggin banged against her temple, but the ache in her side and her newfound fury overroad the brief flash of pain. “Listen here, Corporal.” Another flash of lightning lit up her face, shading every single contortion and iota suppressed anger. Whatever argument the Corporal had, it died on his lips upon seeing his superior’s wrath.

“We are alone with a creature of unknown origin, intent, and power. I’m bleeding to death, I defeated him with my own hooves, and somehow managed to get him to listen to me.” Corporal Shade’s legs floundered uselessly in the air as he instinctually scrambled away from her. Barricade’s deep voice complemented the thunder perfectly, harmonizing with the storm as a whole. Corporal Shade knew he had crossed the last line.

“The only thing keeping me going right now is adrenaline, the desire to get him contained, and the physical manifestation of rage. You will not get in the way no matter how far in the right you perceive yourself to be.” Barricade’s voice dropped even lower, if that were possible. “You will not interfere. You will remain at our flank and walk. If you deviate from those orders, if you do something to provoke this creature in any way, I will use his sword to geld you and leave you in a ditch until the following morning! Got it!?”

The Corporal rapidly nodded his head to convey that he understood perfectly. Barricade delivered an angry sigh and dropped the Corporal. The creature was staring blankly at her, trying to decide whether he should be impressed or frightened at her handling of events. As Barricade walked off, the creature soon kept pace at her side.

Nopony, especially Corporal Shade, made any more moves or complaints for the duration of the trip. Several Guards were beginning to shiver from cold. Barricade had not stopped to ask why they didn’t have rain cloaks before they came to her aid, and she did not intend to care until after the creature was escorted back to base. If they didn’t come prepared for the weather like she was, that was their problem.

What piqued her curiosity was the creature’s own resilience to the elements. The pouring rain made Barricade feel like she was drowning in an ocean. No matter what, the rain battered her cloak with a continuous, viscous ferocity that almost made wearing the garment a moot point. It, at least, gave some protection from the cold. The creature, however, was dressed in nothing more than a pair of pants and a shirt with accompanying chest armor, yet showed absolutely no signs of slowing from cold or the waterlogged clothing he wore. His eyes were set on what was in front of him and on Barricade herself. Barricade could only conclude that his mental fortitude must be tremendous to sustain such a casual attitude towards the weather.

His stamina aside, he had still not gotten over his cautious fear. The sword was still held firmly in his palm and his eyes darted to each Night Guard in a continuous cycle. Barricade dreaded actually reaching Site Command; with so many ponies there, tensions would be high. She did not want another Guard like Corporal Shade make a bad move and botch the creature’s safe capture.

“Corporal?”

“Yes, Captain?” Corporal Shade asked a little too quickly. Barricade couldn’t help but smile.

“Go on ahead to Site Command and alert them to our arrival,” The creature looked down at her, trying to puzzle out what was being said between the two. “Tell them to prepare an open tent staffed by no less than five Night Guards and a Magi, if they are still awake.” That wasn’t likely. Although the Night Guard were notoriously nocturnal, the Magi were not. “Roll one out of bed if they’re not. When that’s done, send a missive to Princess Luna about what happened and have a single Night Guard stand ready to meet us when we arrive to escort us to the tent. Make sure the way is clear between the messenger and the tent. I want nopony to interfere while we set up a secure containment facility. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Captain!” The Corporal immediately spread his wings and flew off, taking special care to fly as low as possible to avoid attracting any and all unwanted lightning strikes. Which was all of them.

Barricade started walking, but quickly stopped once she realized her companion no longer followed her. She looked back, on alert for any sign of trouble out of the creature, but he stood immobile. After watching the Corporal fly away, something had caught his eye: the partially demolished portal in the sky.

The structure reminded Barricade of massive stone sentinels built out of granite. Long ago, far before the founding of Equestria, Earth Ponies carved them into the sides of mountains, each one bearing the likeness of past rulers. The portal hung above the town like those sentinels, an ever-present reminder of recent events.

The creature gave an angry huff and tore his vision away from the portal, but abruptly stopped before he could take a step. He stared at Barricade as if seeing her for the very first time, appearing baffled and utterly confused. He pointed at Barricade and then put a hand about three feet off the ground.

“I do not understand,” she said. What was he doing?

Once again, he pointed at Barricade and held a hand above the ground. Barricade shook her head to convey her lack of understanding; she hadn’t the slightest clue what he was trying to impress. For the third time, the creature pointed at Barricade and then reached toward her. Barricade tensed and prepared to defend herself at the slightest wrong move, but he only ran a hand through her hair before holding a palm above the ground again. Barricade once again shook her head.

He exhaled angrily, this time due to the language barrier complicating matters. The creature’s blade vanished and was replaced by a book and quill. He quickly began tracing lines and curves on the pages, but the deluge washed away whatever he had started to draw.

The creature seethed, absorbed the book back into his body, and extended the middle digit of his hand toward the sky.

“What’s that mean?” Whispered one of the night Guards.

“You shouldn’t have to ask,” his companion replied. “Some things cross language barriers.”

The creature calmed down after a few breaths, slumping his shoulders in shame at his mute outburst. Barricade couldn’t stop the amused smile that crossed her lips.

They soon continued and creature was back to observing the Night Guard surrounding the pair. After nearly half an hour under watch, he still persisted the notion to watch his guards. As they walked in the storm, the ground only becoming more and more muddy as they progressed, but the creature trudged through the downpour and mud as if nothing were wrong. Occasionally, if he did not like the returned glare from a certain Guard, he would switch back and forth between pickaxe and sword, as if he were struggling to conceive the best way to slay attackers.

“Captain...” One of the Night Guard warned.

Barricade turned around, making special care to keep her right, unmarred side towards the creature. As she prepared a defensive stance, she saw the reason for the Guard’s alarm: in the creature’s hand was a single, iridescent pearl.

Barricade froze; she read the reports and knew exactly what that stone could do once thrown. It was hard enough to capture him once, but scrambling to do so again in the dead of night and in the middle of a thunderstorm? The odds were most definitely not in her favor.

The creature, silently weighing his options, stared back into her eyes once more. The pearl shined with blues, reds, and greens with every flash of lightning. Barricade could get lost in the vivid beauty of the orb if she didn’t know what was crossing the creature’s mind at that moment. That pearl, when thrown, would teleport him wherever it landed.

“You know I will stop you,” Barricade commented. It was true, too; if the creature so much as tensed his muscles to throw the pearl, she could be on him in a split-second. He could conjure a sword and run her through even faster than that, but then the Night Guard would have no reason to hold back their ire against him. She prayed her armor was enough to deflect the blow if it came to that.

It was a test of wills once more, this time over to take the chance of freedom once again. The chance, the faintest chance, of escape was not something the creature was willing to ignore. But... what would that accomplish? What was the purpose in endless running? Endless fear? He could escape now, but what about later? The ponies dominated the land and sky; he would be captured eventually.

Run, and the cycle begins anew.

The stone vanished into the palm, replaced by its familiar sword. He nodded, ready to follow Barricade once more.

Barricade exhaled the breath she was not aware she was holding. That had been close. In no way would it had gone well for the creature, but she was thankful events hadn’t escalated nearly as much as she dreaded.

It wasn’t much longer until they reached their impromptu Site Command. The garrison was built in a grid to best establish a defensive perimeter, with the highest-ranking officials and sensitive documents housed in the largest tents at the center. Barricade emitted a disgruntled sigh; the Magi hadn’t gotten around to setting up a temporary spell to shield Site Command from the rain. She made a mental note to talk to them in the morning.

As requested, not a soul was present, save for a solitary Night Guard holding a lantern in her teeth. She set the lantern down and addressed the Captain, “Sergeant Nebula, Captain. Your request was a little short notice, so there may be a few Guards or possibly an insomniatic Magi wandering about.”

Her eyes widened as he took in Barricade’s ragtag capture squad and the creature. He, in the same, twitchy sense of precaution, tightened its grip on the sword. Nebula tensed, but was ordered to stand down with a frosty glare by Captain Barricade. Barricade was making a lot of use of her arsenal of Stares that rainy night. Like mother, like daughter.

“So you’re the one we’ve been scrambling to find...” Nebula said in half wonder, half analytical instinct. She sized the creature up and he did the same, each eyeing every corded muscle and wayward glance the other made.

Barricade really didn’t have time for this, especially with an arrow still lodged in her side.

“Man your post, Sergeant,” she growled.

Nebula chided herself for her temporary indulgence. “This way, Captain.” Nebula picked up the lantern and walked down the rows of tents at a trot. The group followed, but the creature, wide-eyed with awe, was silently poking the fabric of the oilskin tents.

“Come here, you.”

After dragging him from... whatever he was doing, Nebula guided them to one of the tents near the outer edge of the base. Several eyes were poking out of several tents, silent observers and eager recruits all hoping to catch a glimpse of the rumored captured creature. He himself did not appreciate the added attention and he raised his sword in a defensive posture.

Barricade really wanted to get this over with. The pain in her side was reaching a boiling point and had progressed to the point where it had become uncomfortable to breathe. Barricade grit her teeth, trying to block out the pain through her trek in the mud and tents.

For whatever the reason, whether it be due to her wound or another incomprehensible rationale, the Crafter conjured another item. The Night Guard jumped at the sudden introduction of another item; the slightest twitch was putting them all on edge.

Until they saw it was only a loaf of bread.

The creature offered the loaf to Barricade. Barricade could only stare blankly, not really sure how to process the offer. Bread? Really? At a time like this?

Besides, she wasn’t all too hungry either, even if she believed that the loaf was safe to eat at that moment in time. Barricade shook her head, causing him to start wolfing down the loaf with abandon.

“What the Discord!?” Nebula had set down her lantern. As soon as the creature finished the loaf, the lacerations and bruises across the creature’s chest began to mend. “He heals by eating food? How in Tartarus does that work!?”

“Soldier, I have an arrow inside me. I really don’t have time for as-of-this-moment meaningless questions.”

Sergeant Nebula gasped at seeing the rivulets of blood cascading down her black rain cloak. “Captain, you need a surgeon right now!”

“You have no idea. Let’s get this guy safely contained, than I will gladly listen to the load of manure that comes out of Hemos’ mouth.” Not likely. Even Doctor Hemos knew better than to antagonize the Captain of the Pegasus Corp.

“Do you need help walking?” On one of the accompanying Night Guards asked timidly.

“I walked here just fine,” she snarled.

“...you’ve been panting for the last five minutes.”

Barricade licked her dry lips; he was right. She did not realize the sound she had been hearing was her own wheezing this entire time. At least she hadn't been coughing up blood; bleeding into her lungs would really hamper her day.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

For just a brief moment, Barricade pulled the pain out of the corner of her mind and examined the state she was in. Her hooves were getting cold. Definitely not a good sign. She ticked off what else was wrong with her: labored breathing, cold sweat, hemorrhaging wound, and a sharp pain every time she moved her wings.

If she couldn’t fly after this, Barricade was definitely going to need a “private” chat with the creature.

Sergeant Nebula was eyeing the Captain uncertainly, but proceeded to lead the way to the prescribed confinement tent.

Barricade sighed. “Look, this creature seems to have a respectful fear of me for beating it. Let’s use that while we have it and post a guard once he’s secure. I don’t want to take the chance that he’ll escape once I’m out of sight. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’m... I’m not sure how much longer I can stay conscious.”

Sergeant Nebula quickened pace to a quick trot, but slowed down once she realized Barricade could not keep the pace. She was observing Barricade and her wound, ready to intervene at the slightest opportunity. Barricade clenched her jaw shut and shoved the agony back into her mind, harnessing all her discipline she had gathered over the long years. Focusing every particle of her mind to keep walking upright and straight, she followed the Sergeant to the lit military tent straight ahead, completely ignorant of the trail of crimson left in her wake.

The Crafter conjured a loaf of bread once again and offered it to Barricade.

“If he could do that to himself, Captain, perhaps eating it could heal your own wound,” a Guard offered.

“We don’t even know what he is, let alone how eating bread,” Barricade paused for a second. Bread? Seriously? “can do that. You’re welcome to be the alien’s guinea pig. I’ll stick to sutures and forceps, thank you.”

The creature, seeing Barricade talk to the random Night Guard, offered the bread to him instead. The Guard, pondering Barricade’s words, gulped and shook his head.

Barricade laughed. “Smart colt.”

Together they entered a large tent with candles magically suspended in the air for illumination and all fourteen ponies gave a sigh of relief at escaping the inundation. Both the left and right walls were lined with Night Guards and a single, sleepy Magi swayed on his hooves nearby. The creature stopped in his tracks, the loaf quickly shifting to a sword.

The Guards knew in advance that the group were coming, but that didn’t stop several of them from getting ready to charge. For a brief moment, tunnel vision had consumed them. They saw a hostile and a weapon, and that was all.

Barricade would have none of that.

“If any of you make a move on this creature, any at all... unless you has a blade at your throat or preparing to escape, you better sit on your flank and not make a move. Otherwise, I will rip each and every one of your wings off and beat you to death with them! IS THAT CLEAR!?”

Barricade was fairly certain some of them would need new undergarments after her tirade. Even the creature appeared equal parts impressed and intimidated.

“Yes, Captain!” The crowd stood back in formation, ready to receive further orders.

“Good.” The ring of Guards hung back as Barricade pulled pulled the creature’s hand towards the center of the tent. The creature stood exactly where he was, and given Barricade’s weakened state, she was in no condition to force him otherwise. There were fifteen Night Guards already prepared to contain him and he was eyeing each and every one uncomfortably.

“It’s fine.” Barricade smiled warmly. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to stop ponies from getting hurt. We just want to help.”

The creature didn’t look convinced, and not understanding her had a slight chance of being part of the reason why. The creature panned across the room, calculating every means of escape it could. There was only one entrance and exit, but Barricade knew full well that the oiled cloth currently sheltering them from the rain would be of little resistance to the might of this creature.

Nevertheless, he nodded.

Barricade breathed a sigh of relief as the creature allowed himself to be lead to the center of the tent. ‘What I would give to know what’s going through your head right now.’

It seemed wrong to abandon him and limp to the hospital. Those wide, scared eyes, the uncertain twitches of his sword arm concerned her; Barricade pointed to herself, “Barricade.”

The creature cocked his head to the side and pointed at her.

“Barricade,” she repeated, and then she pointed at him. The creature shook his head sadly.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that sometime.” Barricade circled around to leave, but stopped as he grabbed her tail. Their eyes met and the silent question crossed between the two, ‘Why are you leaving?’

He was scared to see her leave. The Captain, the only one he seemed to marginally trust among them, was about to leave. That, understandably, frightened him a little.

“I’ll come back.” Barricade removed her helmet from her bags and offered it to the creature. The language barrier was becoming a serious problem, but, hopefully, the message was understood.

The creature took Barricade’s helmet and ran a hand across the smooth, polished surface. Barricade waited for the creature’s response, choosing to ignore the buzz going around the tent. The Night Guards stationed there had noticed the arrow in her side and the slow drip of blood from her cloak and the once white fletching. Sergeant Nebula held up a hoof, silencing the idle chatter.

The creature held Barricade’s helmet in his hands forlornly, but once again nodded to Barricade. Setting the helmet down, the creature conjured a cobblestone cube in the middle of the tent and sat down on it quietly, as quietly as a mute could anyway.

Barricade presented a respectful bow to the creature. “Thank you. I will be back as soon as I can.” And she waved goodbye. The creature waved back, watching Barricade leave him in the center of a crowd of guards.

“Cast a defensive barrier around this tent to ensure he doesn't escape.” Barricade ordered the Magi. “Underground, too; conventional barriers aren’t much help against this one.”

Barricade sighed “You.” Barricade wrapped a leg around the nearest Night Guard. “We’re going to visit the Doctor.”

The pair left the tent and entered the storm once more. Barricade barely took ten steps outside before she fell to her knees, panting heavily.

“Captain!”

“I’m fine. I –” Barricade rose to her feet, but blood loss had made her legs cold and sluggish. She fell to her knees once again.

“Fine, help me get to the hospital.” The Captain wrapped her hoof around his neck again. Barricade was easily larger than her companion, but if the added weight, or the blood now staining his armor and fur, troubled the soldier, he did not express his displeasure. Good for him.

Barricade felt the long walk through every step she made. The hospital, being a critical part of operations, was near the center of Site Command and the creature’s containment tent was near the western border. It was a long, agonizing trip, even if she was being half carried there. She was having a hard time blocking out the pain now, but the blood loss was doing that for her. Barricade’s thoughts had begun to slow and muddle with the exsanguination, dulling the feeling of cold and pain.

When the pair finally reached the domain of Doctor Hemos, they were quite fortunate that the facility was not busy; work-related injuries were low and mostly superficial. Barricade used her other hoof to part the tent flap and scanned the interior.

“He better bucking be here,” Barricade growled. Sure enough, Doctor Hemos was in the back filling out some paperwork. First Lieutenant Chaser, still not cleared for duty due to her concussion, was quietly snoring on one of the beds.

“Surgeon!” the soldier shouted.

The Doctor’s eyes rose in pleasant surprise and he stopped humming some sort of creepy lullaby once he realized he was no longer alone.

“La la la la, la la la – Captain Barricade! Onto the bed!” He commanded the soldier. The soldier dragged Barricade over to the surgical bed. The cushioning under her armor had already become saturated with blood, so she hadn’t noticed the steady drip of crimson trailing behind her.

“Arrow... wound,” Barricade panted.

“Poisoned?” Doctor Hemos, seeing as the soldier was much too small to heave Barricade onto the surgical bed, used his magic to steadily lift her. Her body was enveloped in an orange hue and kept stable until he laid her down flat.

“I don’t think so... It happened almost a half hour ago.”

“I’ll run some tests to be safe. You,” Doctor Hemos’ usual cantankerous attitude had shifted to an urgent one as he addressed the accompanying Night Guard. “Find me a nurse; the next shift should be in the tent outback getting ready for tonight. And tell Major Stormcloud where the Captain is.”

The Doctor shoved the soldier out of the way when he didn’t acknowledge the command fast enough. Simpering slightly, the soldier galloped out the door to to carry out the command.

Using his magic, Doctor Hemos removed Barricade’s cloak, leg armor, and saddlebags and unceremoniously tossed them in the corner. Gingerly now, he removed her chest and abdomen armor piece by piece. The process was slower than he wished, but it needed to be done at a controlled pace; the Doctor was observing her skin for any further sign of trauma, and aggravating an arrow wound would not help matters.

Doctor Hemos levitated a wing splint and began attaching it to the Captain’s wing to keep it out of the way during the arrow’s removal. She cringed due to her injured muscles protesting the movement, but once it was securely attached to her wing, the Doctor could get to work.

Somepony opened the tent flap behind him. Without looking he said, “Suture, needle, thread, disinfectant, antitoxin, gauze, scalpel, and ready an intravenous transfusion in conjunction with a morphine drip. Start with a plasma solution, if there’s any in stock.”

“Yes, Doctor!”

The nurse scampered outside to the medical bay’s cold storage unit to fetch some plasma, giving time for the Doctor to examine the wound. Half her abdomen was saturated in blood, making it difficult to examine the wound. Gathering a basin of water and some towels, he began to slowly clean the wound. Another nurse came in shortly and began sterilizing herself. “Clean her wounds when you’re done!” Hemos called out.

When done, the nurse rushed over and began washing the Captain’s abdomen, taking extra care to not put too much pressure near the hemorrhaging wound. The arrow entered an inch or two under the base of the wing. That would certainly give her problems flying, but that was the least of the Doctor’s worries; the tip would be dangerously close to her spine and not knowing what kind of arrow head would complicate matters. A simple target point would be easy to remove, but if it was a broadhead, the Captain could quickly bleed to death upon if he wasn’t careful during removal.

The Captain’s breathing was slowing, but what concerned Hemos was that she had stopped talking. Barricade always did her best to put up a strong front, whether through orders and a brash attitude or making light of the situation. Here she was, utterly devoid of any complaint, comment, or question.

“Captain?”

“Hmm?” Barricade’s voice was weak.

“Who did this to you?” Hemos already knew, having been debriefed on the creature’s abilities, but he needed to keep the Captain aware and awake. If she fell asleep due to blood loss, she would be a stone’s throw away from death.

“The creature was apprehended... he got off a lucky shot...”

“Doctor, we’re out of stock,” The now-entering nurse reported.

“Wonderful.” Hemos sighed. “You need a blood transfusion, Captain, and to tell me if you know your blood type rather than me looking it up will make this go much faster.”

Captain Barricade did not respond. Doctor Hemos’ felt all the blood drain from his face. “No...” He rushed to her head, fearing the worst. “Captain?”

Captain Barricade did not respond.

“Captain! Don’t fall asleep!”

“...”

“Captain!”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates, chapter commentary, and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
CHapter Commentary: LINK
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Cor Thunder

Chapter 17: Into the Darkness I'll Sing Them A Song

Chapter 17: Into the Darkness I’ll Sing Them a Song

Void. Silence. Oblivion. The stillness of eternity encompassed all. The din, as vast as the confines of one’s own mind, was barren, save for a single, solitary soul.

“What... where am I...?”

Barricade felt very light and airy, as if every muscle in her body had turned into a quivering mass of jelly and began floated away. That thought seemed peculiar to her, but she couldn’t put a hoof on as to why.

“Am I dead...?” If she was, the afterlife was quite dull. Her eyes remained locked firmly shut on their own accord, all external sensations, smells, sounds, and tactile, were nonexistent, and she seemed to be suspended in a blank void. The last thing she remembered was passing out in the vicinity of the medical tent. The memory was a mass of light, color and sound, all blending together in a viscous hodgepodge.

Where she was, it was pleasant, if prosaic. It felt like she had fallen asleep in a humid bath. The sensory deprivation only made the feeling all the more vivid.

Vivid... her senses had been blunt and useless when she was losing blood. The current feeling of warmth had only arrived since her mind rose to consciousness in the nothingness. And... yes, she could feel it, see it even behind the curtain of her closed eyes: a dim light shone in the distance.

Barricade mobilized herself, commanding her sluggish body to move towards heavenly bliss. Barricade wasn’t sure if what she was moving towards was something concrete and physical, or perhaps the representation of the afterlife. She still wasn’t sure if she was dead; walking to Site Command had aggravated her arrow wound enough to be serious. Whatever the light was, it was better than listlessly wandering a blank nothingness.

Barricade shuddered. All of a sudden, her body felt like it cut through a pit of sludge. Barricade flailed uselessly trying to get out of the dank, dark presence, failing miserably at doing so. The substance felt slimy, like swimming through grease. Unpleasant as it was, Barricade tried to finagle her way through it in order to reach her destination. Such efforts were for naught; the sludge she had discovered refused to let her bypass it.

She opened her mouth to shout, “Let go!” That was indeed a mistake. The moment she did so, the vastness took the initiative and plunged itself down her throat. Barricade choked as the disgusting horde forced its way down her throat. She gagged and gasped, desperately fighting against the caustic cloud. Her swiping hooves cut through the noxious scum, doing nothing save for increasing the vile and abhorrent feeling the sludge presented.

Barricade would have howled in torment if the filth wasn’t blocking her throat from attaining air. Every lingering touch brought the sense of rot and festering disease. Every time she touched the sludge, every time more of the vile contagion forced itself down her throat, she felt a rising sense of misery and disgust. The feelings did not arise from the foul, greasy feeling itself, but the rising sense of... something. Whether real or some construct of her sluggish, deluded mind the Captain felt a dull thudding in time with her own heartbeat.

And it stopped. As sudden as the attack started, it ceased as equally quick. Barricade took a moment to ponder what just happened, gagging in reflex due to dredging up the unpleasant memory.

She could feel it.

Barricade gaped in understanding. It wasn’t some plague or cesspool, it was alive. In the back of her head, a dull, throbbing announced itself to her. It was shifting and writhing around her skull, exploring the confines of her mind. Barricade wasn’t sure what to think.

Her mind... gone was clout and dreary sluggishness that clouded her thinking. As her mind rose to normal cognition, the light she had previously pursued had grown to such a blinding degree it hurt to observe, even behind the shield of her eyelids. Blinded by her sudden assault and earlier languished soul, she had failed to discover just how painful the light had become. Consuming, blinding, painful; gone were her worries about the presence in her soul and in their place was the worrisome, searing pain brought from her supposed saving grace.

... And... beeping?

Beep... beep... beep...

And her eyes finally opened.

All the Captain could see was a blinding, consuming light. She shifted, having gain complete control of her limbs at last. Her legs dragged across comfortable linen. It was a start.

Beep... beep... beep...

“Am I dead?”

The light flashed even brighter than before and then blinked out. The ephemeral shadows dancing in the corners of her eyes became sharpener and more pronounced. The haze soon cleared, aside from the stains left on her cornea, the shadows darkened, and figures were given life before her eyes.

Doctor Hemos moved his penlight away from her eyes, checking her dilation response. He nodded and satisfaction and put his little light away before meeting her weary gaze.

“You’re in the medical bay with me.”

“Yup, definitely dead.”

Hemos snorted. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Captain.”

Barricade’s eyes drifted across the tent, a familiar and practiced reaction of hers upon entering any environment. She lay splayed out on one of the dozen or so surgical beds on the other side of the entrance. Carts holding trays of medical utensils and tools sat inert next to each bed, all in pristine condition and ready to use. On a cart in the far corner was her own armor and several lengths of bloody bandages, the last remnants of what had just occurred to the Captain.

With bleary eyes and weary limbs, Barricade sighed. It had been quite the trying night and she just wanted to bask in the pervading silence of the hospital tent. “Was I –”

“No. I never lost you. Poor choice of words on my part.”

Beep... beep... beep...

“You were thrashing around quite viciously before you awoke. Bad dream?”

It didn’t feel like a dream. But was she thrashing? The bed wasn’t disheveled in the slightest. ‘Whatever,’ she thought. Barricade ran a hoof through her lengthy, bubblegum-pink hair. She could have sworn it was real only a few moments ago. The vile sludge, the blanketing void; “Unpleasant, but just a dream.”

Barricade listened to the silence in the tent. The two were alone; that seemed to bother her subconscious, but she couldn’t put a hoof as to why.

“How is he?”

Doctor Hemos, clad in his immaculate white lab coat revealing his syringe cutie mark, nodded in satisfaction and walked to the edge of her bed. Picking up an inkwell and quill with his magic, he jotted down some notes on her clipboard before returning the it to its proper place. “I haven’t received any word other than of his capture. If he managed to escape, I’d assume somepony would have made a ruckus by now. Then again, I’m always the last to be told anything.” He gave a disgruntled snort.

Barricade rose, but Hemos put a hoof to her chest to keep her down. “You lost a fair amount of blood; anypony smaller would still be unconscious. That, however, is not a valid reason to get up and about.”

Barricade moved Hemos aside, an easy task given their difference in girth, and hopped to the floor. She winced; her wound, though free of the arrow, still throbbed with pain. Layers of gauze circled her abdomen and back to stem the bleeding, but such injuries would take time to properly heal. The Doctor was right in that regard, but the presence of the alien was at the forefront of her mind. Tearing off the wires hooking her up to Hemos’ machines, Barricade cracked her neck and stretched what she could.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...

The Doctor moved to block her path. “Devotion to duty is admirable, Captain, but unnecessary here. The creature is contained, and if he’s not, I’d know very quickly. You’re not well enough to be moving so soon!”

Barricade knew he was right, but did not care. One step at a time, she walked to the entrance. She twitched her neck, trying to shake the nervousness creeping up on her. Something didn’t quite feel right.

“You’re risking court martial by doing this. It’s under my power to temporarily relieve you of duty until I certify you are well. Don’t make me pull rank.”

“And it’s my duty to ensure this base is properly protected.” Barricade eyed the Doctor, daring him to so much as slow her down. “Everypony here, even you, are under my protection. I run this base, and that creature has the power to tear it to pieces.”

Hemos, finally showing emotion other than boredom, grit his teeth in frustration. “Blast it.” He galloped out the back door and out of sight, no doubt running to inform the Major. That left the Captain alone, standing on the hospital’s tarped floor. She continued to the door, her mind dead set on the creature’s bearings.

She stopped.

Her muscles were tight and chorded, ready to spring at the slightest aggravation. She had frozen, not a muscle moved, and her tail did not so much as twitch. If anypony stumbled upon the injured Captain, they would see her coiled like a spring, ready to move at a moments notice.

“I’m missing something...”

Something felt... off, and Barricade couldn’t put her hoof on it. She slowly circled around, taking care to move her back towards the wall of the tent.

Everything seemed fine. All of the Doctor’s equipment was neatly tucked away and cleaned to a mirror shine. The surgical beds were equidistantly placed against the wall, and the tarped floor was clean of any and all debris. Under her hooves, shifting her weight slightly to get a feel of the ground, she felt the hard earth. Everything was calm and peaceful.

“All’s quiet.”

...

“Wait.”

Barricade galloped out of the medical tent with all haste and looked towards the heavens. There was nothing but a solid mass of black obscuring Luna’s starry sky, but that was not concerned the Captain. The rain, as turbulent and wild as it was, had come to a complete halt. No clouds, no deluged mud, and no rampant lightning strikes and sonic booms laced the land.

The night was as silent as the grave.

“What the buck is going on!? Anypony there!?” Barricade called into the din. None answered. Barricade took a few cautious steps into the barren camp. She was in the very core of the garrison; the place should have been bustling with activity. Couriers should have been running to deliver their documents, quietly cussing in fear and irritation when their charges were damaged by water. Guards were supposed to be stationed at every critical locus, and that included the hospital. If it wasn’t raining, she’d expect to see off-duty Guards chatting away besides the lights, magical orbs spaced intermittently to illuminate the garrison.

Barricade kept on walking, eyes sharp and ears open. In her heart, she would prefer some kind of attack or Changeling incursion to happen; that at least would give her a physical presence to focus her attention against. The never-ending silence crept into her consciousness like a horde of spiders, willing her to succumb to fear. An attack, she could handle. She could fight, and fight very well, “But what do you do when there is nothing to face?”

Barricade pushed those instincts down; she needed to keep her cool, and this was certainly an instance where a collected mind was crucial. “Think, Captain, think.”

What was going on? Barricade passed empty tent after tent, and still hadn’t seen a single pony. The Magi’s Barracks, the brain behind research behind the two portals, was equally barren of activity. All posts, all empty streets in the garrison’s grid-like formation, had been robbed of all souls.

“IS ANYPONY OUT THERE!?”

Not even the crickets responded.

“Come on, Captain. Think. Start from the beginning.” Rewinding events in her mind, she started from the beginning. “Doctor Hemos – Doctor!”

She was alone in the tent before she and Hemos left. The Doctor, as cantankerous and troublesome as he was, would not leave such an important facility staffed with only himself. He especially wouldn’t leave his duties to the facility if he were the only one present.

Barricade raced back to the hospital. She was wrong, there was one other soul present, and she had let him just walk right off. Light green tents, uniform in color and size, streamed past as she weaved through the makeshift streets. The hard ground, an impossible fact given the memory of rain, cushioned her stampeding charge.

Doctor Hemos’ domain was exactly as she left if: pristine, orderly, and smelling of blood. Trotting to the rear entrance, Barricade began rooting around the dirt to find any clues. No scents or hooftracks. “Look around, Captain,” she told herself.

She did. The tent in front of her was mainly for storage and contained the cold storage unit needed for samples, cultures, and stored blood supplies. Barricade took a quick peek inside. Lining the walls were rows upon rows of shelves, their contents all clearly marked for easy reference. Barricade scanned the clipboard detailing inventory; the last noted pony to enter removed blood and plasma for her transfusion. Seeing nothing else of note, Barricade exited the tent and continued.

As she stood on the hard earth, she pondered a difficult question, “Left or right?” Left led straight to the Military intelligence Center and the heart of the base and was where most of the high-ranking officers would be. It was the logical place to go if something was wrong, as it had the likely greatest concentration of ponies.

On the other hoof, she could go right and check on the creature. He was the likely culprit, or at least had the likely cure, for whatever was ailing the wasteland Ponyville had become.

Barricade felt her heart jump in her throat at mention of the town’s name. “Flutters...” The last time she had seen her daughter, she had chased after Major Stormcloud and received the disheartening Canterlot report. The motherly instincts within her rose up, demanding she returned to town and find her daughter. So many times, Fluttershy had nearly been lost to her. The dragon’s slumber, Nightmare Moon, Discord, the Changeling Incursion; her dear daughter had faced more than a soldier ever would. What if whatever event that had befallen on the garrison had come for Ponyville as well?

But she couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t. Whatever happened upon waking up, Barricade could not fathom it in the slightest. If she couldn’t acquire any reinforcements to help, or even comprehend, what shadowy fate befell her comrades, there was no helping Ponyville either. But what if whatever had stricken the base had not reached the town? She had no know, had to discover for herself.

Stretching her wings to take off, she prepared to jump and gain lift, but stopped. She had been almost mortally wounded hours ago and would be in no condition to fly for some time. “Damn it.” She ruffled her wings in irritation, brushing them up against the course gauze.

Her daughter, her duty, or her brothers-in-arms?

Barricade stood quietly, the ghastly night watching over her like a curious child. Twisting slightly, Barricade turned left.

She hated it. She hated it with every fiber of her being. Her instincts screamed to find her daughter, but she knew she could not. Information, reinforcements, surveillance; those were her first concerns if she was going to help anypony. “Take care of her, Dashie.”

Her steps echoed quietly among the many rows of tents. The magical spheres, offerings of comforting light, had taken on a whole new vibe. The darkness, sharp shadows capable of hiding any number of foes, tucked themselves around every corner and intersecting square. Her trek took her down one of the ‘streets’ aligned by the garrison’s grid-like pattern, but behind every row stood a wall of consuming black. Barricade couldn’t help but quicken her gait ever-so slightly. Every step, every breath, every throb of her heart echoed in her ears. She stopped once again, listening carefully for any noticeable interruption.

Nothing.

Barricade soon found herself face-to-face with the very heart of the garrison, the Military Intelligence Center. In the astonishing large tent, one held up by magic more than poles and grain rope, lay wall-to-wall desks stocked full of paperwork and tables loaded with charts.

Barricade was no longer surprised to find the usually bustling tent to be completely barren of life. Taking a preliminary survey of her environment and finding it normal – as normal as normal was since waking up – Barricade took a few careful steps inside. She expected to smell the rich, moist air, but only caught a noseful of dry, musty parchment.

Sifting through the charts first, she discovered they were nothing more than records pertaining to the search for the two creatures. Overhead searches and the few, brave ground patrols had searched roughly 17% of the Everfree Forest. With one creature captured – hopefully he was still captured – and one localized underground, Barricade made a mental note to reorganize the patrols to search for the Farlander.

Wandering over to one of the desks, she searched those documents as well. The first held logistical data involving food and housing for the soldiers. Nothing of much interest there, so she proceeded to the next desk. The only piece of relevant information was a hastily scribbled and barely legible note reminding some Captain, the name illegible due to the pony’s poor penmanship, that an additional four squads were needed to escort Princess Celestia back to Canterlot.

Barricade moved to the next desk. This one contained a brief report from the Archmage, summarizing her research on the Farlander Portal.

“I have come to understand that the materials used in creating the structure given the placeholder name “The Farlander Portal” were not made from Equestrian soil or any known alloy or compound. How the Farlander created these materials is beyond my knowledge, but I am certain the structure is only partially complete.

I have detected dormant energy reserves housed in each stone used for the gateway’s construction. It is my suspicion that whatever nodule apparently missing from each stone harnesses and focuses such power inward like a lens, with the combined effort of all twelve providing the proper energy required for portal activation. I surmise the method uses a concept similar to Starswirl the Bearded’s theory of Slipstream Conduits. Nevertheless, it is a simple, yet efficient, means of travel.

Best Regards,

Czarina Bangle, Archmage

There was little else of note documented in the MIC, and even less that she didn’t already know. Barricade sighed and exited the room. Besides entering Ponyville itself, that only left one more location to search: the creature’s makeshift holding cell.

“Momma?”

Barricade banished that thought immediately. She darted around, searching for the source of the timid voice. “Fluttershy!?” Barricade opened the tent flap and scanned inside. Nothing. Next, she searched the streets. They were as barren then as they were ten minutes earlier. “Honey? Are you there?”

The soft clatter of hooves echoed a few tents further down. Barricade raced down the street, attempting to locate the source of the sound. She came to a thunderous halt, the still night only accentuating the discordant sound. “Fluttershy? Is that you?”

Barricade put a hoof to her brow to shield her eyes from the dull light of the magic sphere. As useful as they were, she did not wish to lose her night vision. Spending time in the MIC had partially bleached her eyes, so all she saw beyond outside the center street were darkened shadows which hide all in their embrace.

“Flutters?” Barricade clenched her eyes for a moment to dilate her pupils a little faster.

“Mommy? Is that you?”

“I’m here Flutters!” Barricade took a step into the darkened side street and stopped. The same thoughts as when she first exited the hospital, only nagging thoughts lurking in the back of her mind, rose to the surface. Fluttershy was terrified of the dark. Why was she out and about?

“Fluttershy... come here,” Barricade ordered, slowly stepping out of the darkened nook. “Let me see you.”

“I can’t... it hurts. My leg...” A shapeless mass, concealed in the darkness, limped around the corner of the darkened alley and slumped to a crumpled mess. “Momma...” Fluttershy whimpered and trailed off. The stench of iron wafted across Barricade’s nose.

Barricade was frozen. Ever since she awoke, little doubts had lingered like bloated ticks on her subconscious. Everything seemed so perfect, yet so fake. Every last detail relating to the garrison, right down to the placement of each installation, was flawless, but the devil was in the details. Doctor Hemos would never leave his hospital abandoned. Lieutenant Chaser was not present in the hospital, regardless of not being cleared to leave. Despite it raining for the last two days, the ground was as hard as sun-baked earth.

What the hell was going on?

“Why are you out here, sweetie?” Barricade could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Something was dreadfully wrong, and she couldn’t see it. Again, the sense that she was missing a painfully obvious fact haunted her mind.

“Something chased me away from home. There’s something out there. I saw its eyes, something in the darkness.” Fluttershy whimpered as she crawled towards her mother. The closer her daughter clawed to her, the stronger the scent of blood became.

“By the Powers...” Barricade felt a scream build in her throat as a shadowed form crawled into the cool street lights. Fluttershy was not just injured, she was nearly torn to pieces. Fluttershy had fallen not do to pain, but because her right rear leg ended in a bloody stump near the knee. Several long gashes and burns raked across her torso, chest, and abdomen. Most had scabbed over with coagulated blood, but some of the larger wounds still hemorrhaged with every movement. Barricade wasn’t certain due to a laceration on her forehead coating her face in blood, but Fluttershy may have been missing an eye.

“Fluttershy... dear Celestia, why?” Her daughter twitched and whimpered. Barricade felt bile rise in her throat; Fluttershy’s wings were broken in several places and hung uselessly at her sides. Only the slightest shred of muscle and tendons bound the functionless wings to Fluttershy’s body. “Baby, what happened? Nevermind.” Barricade cleared away the rampant thoughts. Her daughter mattered more than whatever monstrosity hurt her so dearly.

“This is going to hurt a little, so be brave for me, Flutters.”

“O–o–okay. Don’t leave me.” The last sentence came out in a wistful plea. Fluttershy’s terrible ordeal had left her body broken, leaving the mare clinging to whatever shred of sanctuary she could gather. Barricade nuzzled her poor daughter, quickly pulling away when she moaned in pain. Barricade knelt down and wiggled her head under her daughter’s chest. Fluttershy bit her lip, stifling the cries of pain ready to explode at every twitch. Slowly but surely, Barricade inched Fluttershy onto her back. Her heart broke with every muffled scream of agony and silent sob.

Fluttershy, although half blind due to blood and hair glued to her skull and indeed a missing eye, understood what her mother was trying to do. Wiggling herself like an inchworm, she shifted herself further onto her mother’s back. Out of instinct more than intent, her injured back leg thrust out to seek purchase against the hard ground. The bloody stub collided with the dirt, sending a terrible jolt of pain through Fluttershy’s shredded form.

Fluttershy reflexively bit the back of her mother’s neck and screamed in agony. Barricade hissed, but let her daughter ride out the stab of pain. It wasn’t pleasant for Barricade, but if it helped her daughter ride out her suffering, it was a small price to pay.

Fluttershy panted as she released her mother, the taste of blood on her lips not just her own anymore. “Momma, I’m sorry! I – “

“Hush, Fluttershy. It’s alright. I don’t mind.” Barricade splayed her wings, stabilizing Fluttershy’s precarious equilibrium. Despite being quite large for a pegasus and Fluttershy’s figure being petite to the point of anorexia, there was little room for Fluttershy on her back. Nevertheless, Barricade walked at a slow pace back to the military hospital. Every step jostled Fluttershy, causing her to grunt in pain. Warmth blossomed across Barricade’s back; one of Fluttershy’s scabs had opened and blood flowed freely from the wound once again.

The rising sense of dread did not falter in the slightest, despite having recovered her daughter. Every step was light and careful to avoid jostling Fluttershy too much, but Barricade’s entire body was chorded like a tightly-wound spring, ready to move of flee in a moment’s notice. Her motherly instincts soared due to being near her daughter, but that lingering sense of fear had yet to abate.

“How did you get here, Flutters?”

She replied sleepily, “I don’t remember...” Fluttershy coughed and nestled her head between Barricade’s shoulderblades. “I remember talking to you... and then running from something in the darkness.”

It clicked. Just like that, everything clicked. The dreadful silent night, the missing ponies, Fluttershy’s sudden appearance; everything led to only one possible conclusion. Barricade was amazed she hadn’t understood her situation earlier. ‘I’m a fool.’ Her mind had been struggling to put the pieces together since she awoke, and only now did she finally understand what was happening, the very purpose of this experience.

Before Barricade could contemplate her cerebral realization, Fluttershy’s chest heaved. Blood splattered against the back of Barricade’s head, forcing her motherly instincts back to the forefront of her thoughts.

“Hold on, Fluttershy!” Barricade took the liberty of increasing her pace. Despite that aggravating Fluttershy’s ravished body, healing her wounds was a higher concern that worrying about her immediate pain. As much as every moan and cry was a nail into the soldier’s heart, it needed to be done.

Barricade bolted through the hospital tent flaps and moved straight towards one of the surgical beds. She quickly slid her daughter onto the closet bed, emitting a cry from her wounded offspring.

“Hold on!” Barricade scoured the drawers and shelves of supplies, retrieving several rolls of gauze and thread to stitch her wounds. Barricade gulped; there would be no fixing Fluttershy’s wings. Her daughter would never fly again for as long as she lived. She shoved those thoughts to the side; every waking thought needed to be focused on her daughter. As long as she survived, it would be alright.

Fluttershy weakly coughed up blood over Hemos’ white bedsheets, tainting their once unspoiled hue. Yanking a water basin off the shelf and filling it with water, Barricade started cleaning Fluttershy’s fur of blood. Quickly enough, the basin and some borrowed towels became saturated with her daughter’s lifeblood. Barricade fought off the rising panic and fear she felt for Fluttershy’s wellbeing. She needed to clean her wounds before they could be properly stitched up.

A long, jagged slash, almost a claw mark, cut across Fluttershy’s right fore leg to the small of her back and was the biggest culprit for Fluttershy’s exsanguination. Barricade was prepared; all soldiers were trained in basic field medicine, and this was no different.

‘Extreme blood loss, several lacerations and burns to torso, neck, and abdomen, cranial trauma, broken wings,’ Barricade gulped as she recounted her daughter’s wound up close. This was too much. This severity of her wounds was great and the number, numerous. Barricade had never even heard of a pony injured to the extent Fluttershy was, especially since her dear daughter was holding on for dear life.

“Momma...” Fluttershy whispered.

“Hush Flutters. Save your strength.” The Captain fought to keep her voice level. She couldn’t afford scaring her daughter. Luckily, Fluttershy was barely conscious as it was and not too susceptible to fear in such a state.

‘No...’ Barricade’s panic shot to critical levels. The taste of bile flooded her throat as she fought to control herself.

“Fluttershy!” She tried to keep herself calm and failed, panic finally leaking through the cracks of her strong facade. “Can you hear me?”

“Why did you not come for me?” Barricade felt her blood freeze. Fluttershy remaining eye pleaded with her mother, imploring for some kind of logical explanation from her mother.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this from happening to you, Flutters. I’m so very – ”

“And the next time? The last?” Fluttershy’s eye flooded with tears. “After everything that happened to me, where were you?” Barricade couldn’t believe what she was hearing, Fluttershy, always the passive doormat, was standing up to her mother, demanding an answer for her extended absences in her life. “Nightmare Moon, Discord, the Changelings; I was so scared, but you were never there for me. You work in Canterlot, but never gave any time to see me over the years. Always working, always busy protecting Equestria’s borders. Only Rainbow Dash knows I even have a mother.”

“Flutters – ”

“It’s always the same. Princess and country. Duty before self. I’ve saved Equestria more than you ever will. Do I even matter to you anymore? Were you ever worried for me?” Fluttershy gave a sick laugh. “What kind of mother doesn’t even check to see if her daughter is okay?”

Barricade dropped the needle and thread in shock. The needle hung pendulously from a stitch in Fluttershy’s side, still leaking blood. As Captain of the Pegasus Corp, Barricade was one of the leading figures in the Equestrian military, and one of its busiest. Border patrols, scouting for monsters, general law enforcement, all were duties assigned to Barricade and those under her command. Throughout the years, Fluttershy wrote to Barricade like clockwork, always describing with delight her experiences and loving friends. Barricade kept every letter in an oak chest at the foot of her bed, no matter where she was stationed. She could go weeks without obtaining Fluttershy’s newest letters, and even months without seeing her lovely face, but she always had those stored letters. It was one of her greatest pleasures to relive those memories through her daughter, even though the love and adoration were channeled through nothing more than parchment and iron gall ink.

It was marvelous to see how much her daughter changed since she lived in Cloudsdale. From her letters, she was very much like her friend Twilight: always a shutin and refused to talk to anypony. Five years later, her daughter was a national hero and had a life full of love and friends. Only a few hours ago, she was smiling in delight, enjoying the company of her mother and oldest friend.

But now Fluttershy’s face was contorted with betrayal and scorn. Barricade had never imagined how deep the scars of her absence ran in Fluttershy. Every letter was teeming with life; she never expected the pain and hurt hiding behind kind words and playful anecdotes. It was the curse of a soldier’s life: a soldier always knew the risks and price of deployment, but whether gone for long periods or simply dead without a trace, the tension lurking in the corners of the minds of family never vanished. It was a vain hope, a fool’s hope, and Fluttershy finally understood.

“When you’re done... just leave. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Barricade collapsed. Hearing those words come from her daughter felt like a stake to the heart. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her daughter, her flesh and blood, was casting her out of her life. “Please, Flutters – “

Fluttershy weakly reached for her mother and pulled her close. She was in no condition to move her mother without her permission, especially due to Barricade’s girth, but Barricade could not resist her daughter’s touch. Her eye was saturated with tears and pain – no – outright hatred. Fluttershy pulled Barricade in close, half of her face still hiding behind layers of dried blood and plastered hair.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Barricade could only stare blankly into the depths of Fluttershy’s eye. Hot tears flowed in torrents, cleaning a path through the sweat and grime accumulated on her face. Barricade didn’t know what to say or even do; all she felt was a barren emptiness chilling her to her core. Mother and daughter stared into each other’s eyes for the longest time, neither paying any mind to Fluttershy’s wounds. The Element of Kindness had revoked her fate-given gift in order to say her final words.

“I...” Barricade wasn’t sure what to say. Her mind had blanked and was only saying what came stream of conscious. Once they started, she could not stop. “I’m sorry Fluttershy. I’m so, so sorry. You’re right; I was barely there for you, even when I could be.”

Barricade blinked back the tears. “You’re my only child, and I love you so much, but I wasn’t there for you when I needed me the most. I’m always working, always protecting Equestria. It’s important, but that’s no reason to leave you out of my life.”

Fluttershy stirred, but Barricade held out her hooves and held her daughter close, not letting her wiggle out of her grip. “I don’t know what I can do to make it all up to you, all the missed dates, empty birthday parties, and broken promises, but I swear I will do everything in my power to make things right.”

Like a half formed thought, the pieces of the mystery came together once more in Barricade’s mind. As they did, with a surprising burst of speed, Fluttershy’s hooves grabbed a scalpel on the surgical tray and thrust it at her mother. Barricade saw the attack, but the shock of it – Fluttershy! Of all ponies, Fluttershy was trying to kill her! – dulled her reaction. The keen blade plunged into Barricade’s shoulder, cutting through the meat and sinew like butter.

Barricade stumbled backwards and collapsed in a heep. Fluttershy followed her mother to the floor. The Element of Kindness crumpled even less gracefully than her mother. As she hit the ground, several bones cracked, the sound echoing in the tent like a whip. The stitches that Barricade had been working on tore through the weave and Fluttershy hemorrhaged once again.

“I hate you!” Fluttershy screamed into the night.

Barricade tore the knife from her shoulder and threw it to the other end of the room. Her mind was still in shock over what just happened – Fluttershy just tried to kill her! – but her self preservation instincts took over instead. The wound cut into muscle more than and nerves or major blood vessels; it would hurt like nopony would believe, but she’d live.

Fluttershy crawled toward her mother, bleeding and coughing up blood along the way. Against her better judgement, she rushed to her daughter’s aid. Fluttershy lashed out with a hoof, but the attack was slow and weak enough that Barricade parried it without effort. She embraced her daughter, willing her to stay still.

“Please Fluttershy, stop moving. You’re killing yourself! Hate me all you want, but please! Stop this!” She wrapped her hooves around her splayed daughter’s body, crying profusely.

It did little good. The severity and brutality of Fluttershy’s wounds, along with her current exertion, had taken a heavy toll on the poor mare’s body. Fluttershy lifted her shaking hooves up to her mother’s neck and tried to squeeze, but she had become too weaken with blood loss. Realizing she would never accomplish what she wished, her hooves dropped to her sides uselessly. “I want you to suffer...”

Fluttershy closed her eyes, unable to so much as blink for any longer. A smile curled across her angelic lips. “Fluttershy!” Barricade screamed at her daughter. Fluttershy did not respond with anything other than slowing her breath.

“Fluttershy, please don’t go... I’ll leave and never come back. I’ll even quit the Royal Guard if you want. Please, just don’t go to sleep. Don’t close your eyes...” Barricade hugged her daughter and breathed in her flowery scent. “I don’t want to lose you, Fluttershy. Please don’t go...”

Barricade did not know how long she lay there with her daughter’s broken form. An eternity could have passed. The universe could have collapsed and Barricade would not have noticed in the slightest. Barricade moved her blood and tear-stained face out of the crook in her daughter’s neck.

Barricade’s breached hitched in her throat. Fluttershy was still smiling with her hair fanned out, framing her perfect face; she looked like an angel. Fluttershy once sent a letter claiming she had been drafted as a model, and seeing her as she was, Barricade could believe it.

“I’m sorry, Fluttershy. I’m so...” She hiccuped. “I’m so sorry...”

The bloodied lay across the room, dripping blood and as cold as death. Barricade eyed the blade longingly. Barricade pulled away from her deceased offspring and wiped away the moistness staining her face.

“It’s not real... none of this is real.” It was the only thing that made sense to her. The inconsistencies, Fluttershy’s change in attitude, and the prickling sense of being observed led her to the conclusion she was just a rat in a trap.

Taking a deep breath, she called out to the empty tent with all the authority she could muster, “Come out now! No more games! No more hiding! I’m sick of the nonsense and cheap parlor tricks!”

“That took longer than anticipated,” echoed a voice from the doorway. Barricade whirled around to confront the newest threat.

It was herself.

Her doppelganger was clad in full Royal Guardpony armor, minus the helm, and was smiling at Barricade as if she were some favored toy. The eyes are what drew Barricade’s attention more than the regal bearing, aura of authority, and inexplicable arrival. Barricade could see no difference between her copy and herself, but her eyes, her copy’s eyes, were so full of cold, malevolence that Barricade faltered. Was it really herself? Was she capable of such a soul-freezing glare?

“For those that truly treasure the love and laughter of children, seeing one decay and die is the greatest torment a scourge can conjure. It’s a sick and depraved act that even I perform with hesitation. I once told another that there is little I treasure more than the laughter of children, and those words ring true even now. It is my deepest regret to debase myself to such an extent tonight.”

“Everything was a lie... you used her, just to get to me...” Barricade whispered. “Whenever I got closer to the truth, something else would appear and distract me. When I figured it out the last time, she started dying. You made her die.” Barricade put herself between the Doppelganger and her daughter’s fresh corpse. “You... you bastard. My very daughter!?”

“Please, let me explain myself.”

Barricade breathed in air for a great bellow of aid, but she was reminded that nopony was present in this strange shadow world. Was anything real? What was real? This... this was not just somepony playing a trick, something far more sinister and complex was going.

“‘Twas a distasteful, yet necessary, act. You are a soldier, a noble and proud individual and commander of many lives. You do not fear death or pain, so something a little closer to home was necessary to test your mettle.”

No... not a pony. Not a normal one anyway. Something was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why...” Came her whispered reply.

“I was curious if I could depend on you under pressure. I needed to understand how you would react under the worst of circumstances. Most life forms fear pain, but there are those warriors and heroes that conquer that fear and galvanize their will into a weapon. They become more than heroes. They become legends.

“It is easy, however to break such a will. Those who do not bend, break. I congratulate you on seeing through my ruse, but such efforts were needed for future plans. Why your daughter? Simple; because she is the only one that can hurt you. This world’s purpose, this conjured facade, was to see how you react to what could hurt you more than any other. All blades leave lasting scars, so I selected the one which could pierce the deepest. Until the very end, you acted like a mother protecting your spawn. It was exactly as I predicted.”

Barricade wasn’t sure of that was a compliment or an insult. She grit her teeth, ready to retort, but was cut off too soon. “Do not be so quick to judge me; I risked much protecting your daughter only hours ago. If you believe I am unscrupulous... well, you’ll see.” Her smile was not in arrogance, but pure satisfaction. Seeing it made Barricade’s skin crawl. “This is my world and I’m not strong enough to perfect its nuances, but this world,” she cast her hoof about, “served its purpose. I wanted to break you, and you passed my little test.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. And what do you mean, helping my daughter? She’s dead!”

“I may be pragmatic, but I’m not a monster,” she nodded where Fluttershy lay. Barricade looked and gasped; the fresh corpse of her daughter had vanished. “She was a lie from the very start, Captain. Ever since you fell asleep, you’ve been under my control. Illusions, all of it. I don’t use children for my goals. Even I have standards.

“As for your question, I will answer that shortly, but my end goal you refer to? The reason I needed to test you in the first place? Why, Captain Barricade, what is the purpose for a commander evaluating his lieutenant’s? I must know your limits on order to plan, for a certain... unprincipled cur has come to this world. Soon my chance to strike will arrive, and I needed to know if I could trust you ponies,” her Doppelganger struggled to say ponies as if it were some disgusting curse word, “to not falter before he attacks.”

“The portal... you are the harbinger of all of this.” Barricade’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“No.” It was the same voice, right down to the deep, reverberative tone Barricade had become synonymous with. The Doppleganger paced around a surgical tray full of tools, coming closer to the Captain. Barricade not wishing to come too close, paced as well. She took a split second to memorize what was on the surgical tray: forceps, several scalpels and surgical knives waiting to be cleaned of her blood, and three syringes full of some clear liquid, likely painkillers. They could be useful in a fight.

The Doppelganger’s gaze drifted across Barricade, taking in the bandages wrapped around her abdomen and the gauze taped to her flank.

“My my, I hope your guest hasn’t induced too much suffering.”

“You brought him here, didn’t you?” Her Doppelganger seemed pleased with herself, or himself, or itself; Barricade was not sure what to title her guest.

Her copy tsked and walked away. “Wrong again.” She started rooting around the room, taking in Hemos’ workplace in a single, controlled scan. She soon lost interest and returned her attention to Barricade. “I had no part to play, and certainly no interest, in that construct or the lowly Enderman.” Enderman? So that’s what the second creature was called. “I am here for... ulterior purposes.”

The Doppelganger stood on the other side of the large tent, far from the front and rear entrances. Barricade calmly paced around the table and planted herself in the path of the front entrance. As she walked, she made certain to never draw her eyes away from the Doppelganger.

Barricade faltered. For a fraction of a second, the room’s candle illumination increased to blinding intensity and returned to normal levels. Barricade took a step toward the Doppelganger, this time a stab of pain shot through her skull like a roadspike. She took a step back and the pain lessened.

Why come to Ponyville? Why come to her? She didn’t have any valuable intelligence or documents on her. Was it her knowledge of the escaped creatures? No, the entity revealed she knew more about those two than Barricade did. The entity said she was dreaming, so that made a little more sense. Was her entire experience just a conjured nightmare or a recreation of some entity? There were just too many questions.

What was the connection? Why was she important enough and not the rest of the base?

Out of suspicion more than anything, Barricade strolled to one of the surgical trays, never letting her eyes leave the intruder. She did not want to leave the entrance unguarded, but she had a theory to test. The Doppelganger smiled in knowing anticipation, well aware of what Barricade was about to do. Lifting a pair of forceps, Barricade threw them at the mare’s head with a calculated accuracy.

The Doppelganger did not even flinch as the forceps phased right through her head and fall harmlessly to the tarped floor. Barricade kept her best poker face, a practiced expression perfected while guarding countless VIPs and borders.

She wasn’t real, or at least not physically there. Was it selective? Could she have solid mass at will, or did she not have it to begin with? Was it some new type of spell? Barricade had always kept tabs on the Council of Magic’s research and never heard of something quite like this.

Barricade’s heart jumped into her throat. The Doppelganger had copied everything except her mannerisms, but that did not exclude the possibility of Changelings.

“No,” her Doppelganger cooed. Barricade blinked. “You are not like the other one.” The Doppelganger rose to her hooves and walked toward Barricade. Barricade sighed internally; for a moment, she believed her copy could read her mind.

“Other?”

“The pitiful fleshbag in the caverns.” Barricade stood her ground as her copy began to circle her, harmlessly brushing her tail against Barricade’s form. “I needed a host to speak with the Enderman, and I had the unfortunate luck of choosing him. I hate cowards!”

Barricade backed away from the Doppelganger as if she was scalded. Barricade patted herself down. She was fine; no blistered skin or scorched hair anywhere. She could have sworn she just got burned. Something nagged at her consciousness, some deep and underlying suspicion about the entity in front of her: something dank and vile had protruded from the Doppelganger after her sudden explosion of wrath. Her demeanor supported her claims: gone were the playful eyes and calm bearing, and hatred slipped through her copy’s facade.

As soon as it began, it vanished. Back was the calm, authoritative smile. Barricade took a defensive step backwards, leaving herself room to do battle if the need arose. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“What purpose? What do you want from me?”

It was the only thing that made sense. The ability to move without detection and evade any blow could grant her copy access to any location in Equestria. Why stop there, the whole world! Out of all the locations, all the treasure troves of valuables and sensitive documents, she picked a surgical tent with a single Captain. Barricade was needed for something, something that only she could accomplish. Her copy seemed willing to talk more than anything, and that was good. If Barricade could just keep her talking, than she might let something important slip.

Barricade gasped, finally realizing the full implications of what she had heard so far. This entity, her copy with the perfect duplicate body and horrible, deadly eyes just let it slip that she – no, it – needed a host. ‘Am I a host for this thing?’

“Events have progressed faster than anticipated. I did not expect that thing you have captured to join forces with you so quickly. It is only a matter of time until it reveals to you my influence. Oh, don’t be worried about what I did,” she said upon seeing the horror cross Barricade’s face. “you should be more worried about what I made your underling do, but that is a discussion for another time. I am not your enemy, Captain, but I do need your help in committing something... unsavory.”

“Answer the question,” Barricade said through gritted teeth.

“All traces of my influence must be eradicated before they reach the ears of your rulers, and that’s why I chose you. I gave you a test to see if I could trust you with knowledge of my presence and to discover if you have the courage to do what needs to be done.”

“Forgive me if I find your ‘benevolent’ claims unsubstantiated. You force me to witness my daughter cast me out of her life – ”

“Ha ha ha!” the Doppelganger chuckled merrily. “Of course I did! I told you already,” She took a step forward, causing Barricade to take a step back. “I needed to know what you would do under the worst of circumstances. ‘Why?’ you ask. Why you? Why this facade transmitted through leagues of smoke in mirrors? Convenience. You have the resources and authority needed to accomplish what needs to be done.”

The Doppelganger laughed, a deep throaty sound identical to Barricade’s own mirth. “As for your query, you are correct; I cannot prove my claims.” The Doppelganger rose and walked to Barricade. The Captain held her ground, refusing to yield to the entity. The tears came back to Barricade’s eyes. She blinked them back to not show her company her weakness, but they came anyway. The pain in her skull had reemerged as a dull throb, steadily growing stronger the closer the Doppelganger came.

“But know this. You have greater worries than those two maggots falling into your world. Something far, far more terrible has only just arrived.”

“We’ve dealt with worse,” Barricade shot back.

The Doppelganger chortled long and hard. It was not just a mild chuckle that snuck past her calm exterior, this was open, mocking laughter.

“I let my hosts see what I do out of courtesy. There are those that view other species as something lower than themselves, but I never understood that impulse. Take, for instance you, and me. Are you different? Yes. Weaker? Yes. Primitive? Yes, but none of that blinds me to your strengths. Your race has an admirable fortitude when banded together, and I respect that. Discord, Nightmare Moon, they are creatures that could have crushed all opposition if it weren’t for those with a firm will and a stout heart. Even if I believe I am far beyond a creature, I will grant it access to my deeds as long as they are my host.

“However, one positive trait does not negate your others, especially your race’s blind reasoning that you can overcome any obstacle there is to encounter, that you may band together after any threat. It’s a childish, irrational belief that all harm will pass without scars. Your kind should not hold such a misguided faith.”

Barricade’s eyes narrowed. “We are stronger than you think.”

Barricade knew that was the wrong thing to say the moment it left her mouth. For the second time, the Doppelganger’s eyes dropped their amused gleam. Barricade took a step back, trying her best to ignore the increasing pain in her skull. “So far, the only one to surprise me is the construct. Do you think you know pain? Do you think you know true horror? You know nothing of hell.

“That is why I am looking forward to Era’doth the Destroyer’s assault. I want to be there and watch your faces fall, your children cry, your blood boil when the Destroyer burns Canterlot to the ground. When the streets are littered with corpses and the tears of the lamenting survivors, when the purity of your Princesses has been stained with the blood of their enemies, when the very innocence of this world is lost to a true monster, just try to stand on the blood and desiccated remains of the fallen. When your world burns to ashes, when you are finally at the end of the golden age and retain the fortitude to stand tall...” Barricade took another step back, and the Doppelganger took a step forward. The merry shine had degraded to a cold fury. “Only then can you claim your race has strength.”

“I know our capabilities well enough,” Barricade countered. “If we can’t win, we retreat and regroup. We analyze and plan. We are relentless. I will grant you I have never seen your ilk before. I even admit you or this Destroyer may obliterate us like ashes cast into the wind. It doesn’t matter; we will go down fighting to our last breath. Even the recent Changeling incursion proved to the world that even few will stand against many.” It was one of Barricade’s proudest moments, seeing her daughter walk down that aisle. A timid and cautious mare, she was, but she was braver than any Guardpony.

“No, I’m not worried about ponykind. What doesn’t make sense is you. You say you will save us, but what’s in it for you? You don’t strike me as the most chaste of souls. What doesn’t make sense is the Destroyer and your relationship to him. What is he? What do you get out of watching him fall?”

The Doppelganger nodded at Barricade, impressed with her strength. “So you still have some bite left... good. He was renowned as a god of harvest and creation long ago, back when I knew him under the name Era’doth. Much has changed since our last encounter; madness and a lust for power clouded his mind and he took a new name and body to enforce his own deluded image of his greatness. As punishment for his sins, he was dismembered and imprisoned in a shadow for all time. He destroys now; he’s forgotten his past glory and purpose.”

Sins? Barricade could tell there was much of the story she was not told, but she didn’t want to press her fortune. This entity was telling her so much already, and even if some if it was lies or embellished, discovering what was lied about would point to the Doppelganger’s motive for doing so. She could sort out fact from fiction later, but intelligence was never something you could have too little use for. At least the Doppelganger’s anger had cooled to a light flame; a hardness still lined her eyes.

“And the Portal?”

“That one is easy. Did you not discover that already?” Barricade shook her head, causing the Doppelganger to scoff. “Suppose you have a weapon or tool. What is the absolute first objective? What would be your first action?”

Barricade’s eyes widened in understanding. “...I would make sure it works...”

“Precisely. Era’doth sent the Crafter here for the sole reason of testing if his portal was in working order. The construct’s arrival was naught but a test; it is as simple as that.”

“Was the portal technology how he escaped his prison?” Barricade asked.

“Ask the Enderman; his kind released him.”

Barricade really wanted to ask more about the Enderman, but a more pressing issue called. Instead, she switched directions. “Why do you want to help us, then? To put him back in his prison?”

The Doppelganger smiled, a cruel, twisted perversion of Barricade’s own delight she used against several underlings in the past. Barricade couldn’t help but take another step back. ‘What happened between you two?’ she thought.

“Why do I want him gone?” She licked her lips. “Revenge,” she hissed.

Barricade wanted no part in the squabbling between two omnipotent creatures. The entity’s wrath was tightly guarded behind smiles and promises, but the curve of her lips and injected liveliness to her eyes brought on by saying that single word let down her guard enough for Barricade to see the writhing mass of fury hidden under the surface

“What do you need me for? To stop this... Era’doth?” She repeated in an attempt to diffuse the situation; she did not need some god-monster’s wrath right then and there. It was the question she dreaded and the reason why the entity was in her company in the first place. However, asking her question did not sooth her troubled mind. She already had an ache in her stomach and shoulder to deal with along with the biped’s containment. Her position and every progressive inch with this creature in front of her needed to be done carefully and taken with a grain of salt. She sensed this thing had powers beyond what she had seen until then: invulnerability, possible teleportation, dream walking, and some type of illusionary magic. The creature in front of her could crush her without trouble, and they both knew that. ‘It’s the Eclipse all over again.’ She needed to be careful. Very careful.

“Kill Jetstream.”

“No.” It was more than just a statement, but a fact. Of all the favors the Doppelganger could have asked, this was one she could not allow and would never. It was not a point she would falter on.

“He needs to die in order for the rest of you to be saved.”

“Please,” Barricade put every ounce of disgust and sarcasm in her voice as she could muster. “Enlighten me.”

“Do you not believe that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? Dear Barricade, Celestia,” For the briefest moment, the Doppelganger’s lips curled into a snarl. “would focus on my presence once she learns how to communicate with the construct. She mustn't do so, for she needs to focus her resources on learning from the construct and the Destroyer by proxy. If she hunts for me instead, she will be blindsided once Canterlot falls.”

Barricade’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Canterlot!? Impossible! Why do you believe this!?”

Once again, she was ignored. “She would not understand my intentions as of yet, and I cannot reveal myself, as it would alert Era’doth to my presence. Jetstream must die to save your lives. I did not wish to kill Jetstream, but the construct coming so soon escalated events and my plans. He needs to die to correct the imbalance.”

“Just because you say it, that doesn’t make it true. Just talk with Celestia and tell her what’s going on.” Canterlot? Ponyfeathers, if the Doppelganger was telling the truth...

The Doppelganger’s brow furrowed in irritation at having to repeat herself. “I manipulated Jetstream to complete the End Portal, wiped his mind, and encountered your prisoner along the way. Once you learn how to communicate with it – ”

“The Equestrian military will recognize a third party is at play,” Barricade finished.

The Doppelganger nodded in confirmation. “And?”

Barricade collected her thoughts for a moment. Her eyes bulged. “Wait, if the Endermen released the Destroyer, why did you help it complete its gateway!?”

“That is not your concern at this moment in time,” she growled. “What would happen next?”

Seeing as the Doppelganger would reveal no more on the subject, Barricade slowly continued. “...The two present have not been much trouble or severe a threat,” her Doppelganger smirked at that line. Barricade eyed her suspiciously, but when the silence made it clear she would not elaborate, Barricade continued. “...so the chain of command would reconsider Sergeant Jetstream’s involvement in past events.”

Barricade scrunched her brow in thought. What else... the portal! “And if the Farlander, this Enderman, continues to complete its portal, that would only draw more attention onto Sergeant Jetstream, as he was the first to discover it.”

“Which would what?”

“Pull resources from the biped’s research staff and onto the Enderman and End Portal.” Barricade sighed in understanding. She knew where this was going now. “But Princess Celestia and Princess Luna would not discover anything, as you claim to have altered his mind.” The Doppelganger nodded. “The questioning would continue in a cycle with no end.”

“Leaving plenty of time for the Destroyer to make his move. Your kind will suffer either way, but if you help me, I can limit the pain to a single city, rather than a world,” the Doppelganger finished. She had a pleased smile on her face; Barricade finally understood her line of thinking and, although the method was gruesome, the logic was sound.

A errant thought crossed Barricade’s mind, “Wait, did you meet with the biped? You claim knowledge of that creature.”

“Ahhh, yes,” she sighed pleasantly. “I performed a little favor for you by meeting with it. Before Era’doth entered your world, I opened a channel between their minds. By doing so before he came, I averted alerting him to my presence and gave them a direct link into each other’s mind. If Era’doth was smart, he would have closed the link, so once you learn how to speak with the construct, it can tell you what it saw.”

“Why don’t you just speak to Princess Celestia or Luna? Surely this Destroyer can’t be that omniscient?”

The Doppelganger’s lips curled around her teeth, but she answered the question all the same. “I can’t contact your rulers, as they are now under his watchful eye.; I assure you of that. Such a response is not irrational; your rulers are among the most powerful entities that walk the land and surveillance is a wise choice. The moment I approach, I would be detected, if I was not immediately attacked by him or your rulers.”

Barricade shook her head in disbelief, and then more vigorously as the ringing returned to her ears. “I don’t believe the Princesses would do that.”

“Than she has you trained like the lapdog you are. You understand why I am doing what I do, whether or not you agree with it, but she would be forced to take action against me. Her morals do not allow blood to stain her soul.” As the Doppelganger spoke, her eyes slowly hardened. Barricade took the information and filled it away for future notice. Her copy tensed every time Celestia was mentioned. Why?

“She would never put her own morals above the welfare of her subjects, but she would not stoop to killing either.”

The Doppelganger’s hard eyes stared down Barricade in a test of wills. The ringing and skull-splitting pain had abated and that left the Captain able to concentrate on her guest. The Doppelganger, however, quickly ended the standoff and walked to the bedside. Picking up an empty basin and gallon of water, she filled the basin and gestured for Barricade to join her.

“What is it?”

“Imagine if I never came here. Imagine if your Princesses were left for their own devices. This is what happens when fools are allowed to rule. Look into the basin.” The Doppelganger quietly sat down, waiting for Barricade’s reply.

“...What will I see?”

“What was, what is, and what has yet to be.”

Captain Barricade had heard rumors about Starswirl the Bearded’s theories in temporal manipulation, but as far as she knew, they were all exaggerations and hearsay. Still, to reveal the time by not just changing an event, but reveal what happened after removing an event from time itself? Was that even possible? She didn’t think so, but the entity in front of her had displayed knowledge and abilities beyond what she would have expected possible.

She could not deny that her curiosity was strong. To take a glimpse back in time or far into it, to obtain such knowledge could shift the balance of power of nations, let alone the outcome between two individuals, was a tempting offering. With measured grace, Barricade put a hoof forward, and then another, then another, never taking her eyes off her copy. Said copy never stopped watching her with eyes as hard as stone.

Barricade had to look away from the copy in order to see into the basin and she did so, if hesitantly. She hated turning her back on this... thing in her presence, but her instincts told her that if this creature wished her harm, it would have befallen her already. Barricade looked into the calm, reflective surface and waited for the visions of ages long passed.

Visions exploded across the mirror-smooth surface. Golden fields of wheat, log cabins lodged deep in the forests blanketing the land and mountains, oceans, beaches, and cascading hills; the visual impulses raged across Barricade’s eyes and she understood them all. Such an overpowering deluge of information crossed every synapse, yet her lagging mind processed every iota of data presented to her. The land was rich and clean, the ever-present example of Equestria’s status of the shining star of the world.

Fear. She could taste it. Smell it. Hear it. See it. Ponies huddles in their domicile with sweat on their brows and fear on their face. Most were clear of any signs of danger; they were far from any signs of danger, in fact. Why were they afraid? Were they afraid of the dark? It was difficult to discern finer details, though Barricade wasn’t sure if that was due to the method used to show her the visions or the ever-present darkness looming over Equestria.

Eternal darkness. Barricade’s heart jumped into her throat.

The images cleared and focused, narrowing down to a large, sprawling city. Barricade could sense more than see the small towns and hamlets branching off from the city’s roads, all connected together in a fine network of gravel and asphalt. Yet despite the hundreds, possibly thousands, of ponies, all doors were locked, all wicks were cold.

The vision narrowed in scope even further, bringing her to the city’s town square. Several ponies lay huddled together while other stampeded in fear. Several poor souls lay broken and bloodied, trampled in their desperate escape from the one they feared.

Black stained the surface of the water. It shifted; it was not a amorphous void as Barricade originally thought, but inky-midnight fur attached to a pair of hot, glowing eyes.

“Citizens of Equestria, your Princess stands among you now!”

The terror of what suffering had kidnaped their princess’ heart and the thought that they faced nothing but the night forevermore hit them full force and the screams began. Nightmare Moon stamped her hoof with enough force to splinter the wood and stone beneath her. “Stop! We beseech ye to halt! Ye fears are in vain! All we desire is your devotion!”

The fleeing increased, if anything. What few courageous ponies that managed to stay for so long lost their nerve and ran alongst with their neighbors.

“Stop!”

A lonely filly wailed under a spruce tree, desperately searching for whatever caretaker she had lost. She was the last remaining soul left in the town square.

“STOP!”

Barricade pulled herself away from the vision, not wanting to see events progress any further than they already had. Immediately her eyes drew themselves onto the Doppelganger, whom had not moved an inch since the vision started. “I know this already. Princess Luna had succumbed to depression and sorrow to become Nightmare Moon. Even fillies know the tale.”

That had been exactly what the Doppelganger wanted to hear. “Ah, of course it was. Princess Celestia was quite the chessmaster indeed.”

“What are you implying?” Barricade demanded.

The Doppelganger’s tale wrapped around her legs. The smile was not present, but she was obviously pleased with herself. “It’s hard to change history, but the process is simple enough when one is revered as a god. Word is law.”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“Would you stake your daughter’s life on that?” Barricade opened her mouth to proclaim she would, but stopped. Her knee-jerk instinct was that she would stake her own on such a claim, but not Fluttershy’s. But Fluttershy had long proved she could take care of herself, timid as she was. Quickly enough, she overcame her hesitation and replied with a resounding, “Yes.”

The Doppelganger, however, noted Barricade’s minute hesitation, but said nothing on the matter. “I pity both of them; Luna for falling so far, and Celestia, for refusing to put her kin out of her misery before the worst came to pass. Tell me, Captain Barricade, have you ever seen your kin die of starvation? Have you seen what eternal night does to an agrarian society such as yours? The crops waste away and the temperature plummets. Ponies burn wood and cloth to stay warm. Rural natives have the resources to adjust to cold, but the cities soon cannibalize each other when the shock of their situation sets in. Show me a soul, and I will show you his fears. How does he face those fears, with a stout heart or a coward’s demeanor? Fear turns heroes into cowards when they are at the end.

“Equestria tore itself apart in fear. The plants withered and died, and the horror set in. Have you seen an entire world face death? It was not pleasant.” The Doppelganger gave a tired laugh. “The body eats itself when it acknowledges it is dying. Fat and muscle evaporate and die as the body cannibalizes everything it can in an effort to function just one moment longer. Have you seen legions of adults and fillies starve and die? Did you watch them wither before your very eyes as their bodies no longer have the strength to understand their situation? Your Princess caused the deaths of hundreds before her rampage was stopped.”

“It was a cry for help...”

“Than Celestia should have killed her, or at the very least not hide such facts from the ages ahead.” Her lips curled into a snarl once again. “Every year you celebrate ‘Nightmare Night,’” every iota of disgust and contempt she could muster flooded her voice. “all due to Celestia’s attempt to reduce the pain of losing Luna. Not once did the blood staining her sister’s soul ever cross her mind, or the sins that she was willing to wash away in the sands of time merely due to the grief over her part in her sister’s fall from grace. She knew without a shred of doubt that she would return with a vengeance, but her heart wilted under the pain of losing a loved one. If Luna was not stopped, her subjects would have paid the price and I would have laughed at celestia’s misery as maggots feasted on their flesh!”

She laughed madly. “Then again, perhaps banishment was her punishment. Not even I can think of something worse than that to the Queen of the Night.”

“What are you talking about?” Barricade had taken yet another step back from her copy. So far, she had been quite calm and collected, but even more rage was slipping through the cracks, confirming Barricade’s earlier suspicion. For whatever the reason, the Doppelganger utterly loathed Celestia and the hatred she expressed it with made Barricade nervous enough to wish for more space between the two.

“The moon, dear Captain. Think about it.” The Doppelganger spread her hoof over the basin’s rim. Ripples coursed across the surface, and when they ceased, the fading image of Nightmare Moon was replaced by a gleaming green, blue, and brown sphere centered in a field of stars.

Barricade gasped upon seeing her planet.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Barricade did not respond. “Princess Luna is a great architect indeed. Every star, every nebulous mass and celestial body is hers to command and create every imaginable piece of art. Constellations and heavenly spheres, all are hers and at her beckoning call. She is marvelous; even I must acknowledge that.”

The Doppelganger wrapped a hoof around Barricade’s back and sat down. The Captain was busily staring at the fantastic image presented to her, taking time to find land masses like Zebrica and Equestria itself. “It is a thing of beauty. There are other planets in the heavens, some even more grand than yours, but every diamond shines with equal luster. Now imagine, the one thing you wanted most, the one thing you could never hope to regain, was always there waiting whenever you awoke from sleep’s quiet bliss.

“That jewel, the one housing everything you know and love dangling like an ornament on a tree, hangs so close but you are never able to touch it. It would drive one mad, wouldn’t it?” she whispered huskily in Barricade’s ear. “You cannot forget such an image, no matter how often you see it. After a thousand years with the very stars framing such a gem... it’s impossible to not long for such a sight. I pity her for enduring for so long.”

Barricade stood frozen, eyes watching the planet wistfully. It made sense why the first act of personal business on Luna’s part was to visit Ponyville and rekindle friendships. “To suffer for so long, dear Captain... it would have been more merciful to put Luna out of her misery.”

“But she’s fine...” Barricade said, but her voice lacked all conviction. The Doppelganger knew this and countered her statement.

“Did Celestia know that for certain? Did she understand the consequences isolation would have on her sister’s psyche?” The Doppelganger’s voice dropped to a low whisper once more, enticing Barricade to follow her thinking. “Why didn’t she destroy her heart of stone when she obtained the Elements in the first place, if such a feat lay within the Element’s power?”

The Doppelganger removed herself from Barricade and sat down next to her. “Look again. This is what would happen in the present if I would have never interfered in your affairs.” The Doppelganger placed a hoof on Barricade’s back and tilted her forward, but she did not resist. With another blast of color, the next vision was shown to her.

It was dark, and yet light shone brighter than the sun. No, not light. Lightning. Lightning strikes; this vision took place in the mountains next to Ponyville, if it was not in Ponyville itself. Rain pelted everything in sheets and refused to relent. For now, mother nature ruled the land and sky.

A shapeless form cut through the darkness, running for all it was worth. A pink and yellow form.

“Fluttershy!” Barricade exclaimed. She grabbed the basin in a fit of motherly impulse, causing ripples to disturb the image. Quickly letting go, she observed unfolding before her eyes. Fluttershy was running for all she was worth, which wasn’t too fast given her slim, atrophied physique. Her brow was stained with sweat and eyes were wide with fear. Intermittently, she would glance over her shoulder and keep on running from some nameless thing behind her. Fluttershy soon began to pant heavily, but that did not stop her trek through the darkness.

“Where are you, Flutters?” Barricade whispered to the image. Besides the occasional lightning strike, she could see nothing other than the dim outline of Fluttershy running through the wet grass.

A shapeless mass of black fog lashed out of the darkness. Fluttershy skidded to a stop and ended up slipping onto her back as she hydroplaned across the saturated fauna. “Get up, Fluttershy!” Barricade called.

Fluttershy did indeed rise to her hooves, but it did the pegasus little good. A separate mass of twisting shadows latched onto the mare’s leg and lifted her into the air. Fluttershy floundered and wailed as she lost control of her sense of direction and firm footing. Her wings instinctively flared open and flapped wildly, but a separate tendril of shadows twirled around her abdomen and held fast.

“Rainbow Dash!” Fluttershy called to the sky. Billowing darkness imbued with flickering particles shielded the air. Both Fluttershy and Barricade could not discern where Fluttershy was, let alone any recognizable landmarks to establish a firm point of reference. The Element of Kindness was trapped, hemmed in the middle of the storm with nothing but the sound of pounding rain to keep her company... and chains? Yes, Barricade could hear the sound of clanking irons.

Fluttershy screamed, not in fear but pain as the shadows constricted her frail body. “Stop it!” Barricade screamed. “STOP IT!”

Eyes, a pair of hot white eyes, emerged from the darkness. Fluttershy felt the silent approach even though Barricade could hear nothing from the creature flanking her daughter. The air hummed with energy during the creature’s approach. Sensing more than seeing the leviathan, Fluttershy slowly turned her head around until she could also see the beast pursuing her.

Fluttershy screamed in pure terror and pain. The tendrils constricted and pulled, dislocating and crushing Fluttershy’s brittle bones. Barricade looked away from the basin, eyes scrunched tight and blinded by salty tears. The moist air was cut by tearing and the screaming halted. Barricade dry heaved as her mouth flooded with the bitter taste of bile.

“I rescued your daughter from his wrath by giving her the means she required to fend off the Void. My only wish is to see him suffer, and to assist your kind in his defeat. I can’t help but have a soft spot for children; it’s just my nature. I need your kind’s help. Consider the safety of your daughter a... sign of good faith.”

Barricade fell to her knees and heaved once more. The Doppelganger knelt next to the distraught mare and wrapped a wing around her comfortingly. “But for what’s to come, expect more than just an enemy raid. War is never easy, especially if you never know you are one side from the start. The only true victors are the winners and the bystanders, but even then, the price is high. The shadow of death and fear is thick and broad. Innocents become entrenched in the middle, while even the victors pay in flesh, blood, and bone. There are only costs, and never any gains.”

Barricade continued to weep silently. For the second time tonight, her daughter had suffered and died before her eyes. It had become too much to bear.

“Look into the basin.”

“I don’t want to...” Barricade broke down and sobbed into her hooves. Pain, a deeper pain than she had ever earned cut her soul and seized her heart in cold, icy talons. Her daughter and ever-present pride had fallen. The thought of further wanton destruction and pain broke the Captain’s will to continue.

The Doppelganger continued to talk. “What will you do when you are at the end, when all debts come to fruition and your life is placed upon the scale of time? I can end this with infinitely less death and chaos. Is one life so much to pay for the lives of thousands? The ravages of death and decay, the skies blackened under the wings of ravens, the streets running red with the blood of mares and fillies; I can stop it all. I can save you all. This is not just about the life of your daughter or your comrades, but nations and worlds. All you need to do is say one. Simple. Word,” she whispered seductively in Barricade’s ear. “One life is all I ask. What will be, will be, Captain, but the rest of the world need not suffer over the fate of a single soldier. It will be quick and painless; I swear that to you.

“Era’doth isn’t some beast or power-hungry lord, but an ancient and mighty god. Even as a fragment of his former self, he has the power to rend the world asunder. Creatures spawn under his shadow and the very universe itself bends to his will. Imagine if Discord revived, but only had the desire for unquenchable power and bloodlust; that is what you face upon his return. The last vestiges of his prison still bind him, but if he is allowed to continue his machinations, he will be freed.

“He is not the only creature to have risen from darkness and ashes. Have you not discovered the signs? Your plane is on the brink of something equal parts grand and terrible. The release of Nightmare Moon, activity in Tartarus, the return of Sombra, Discord’s release; I implore you to believe me that these events are not mere coincidence. The doors are opening, the seals, breaking. Evil is coming to plague these lands. This – ”

Barricade laughed. It wasn’t a casual chuckle. It wasn’t even true happiness; Barricade had finally understood the madness of her situation and the absurdity finally made her snap. “You’re a Celestia-forsaken, bold-faced liar.”

Her Doppelganger slowly parted from Barricade, eyes gleaming dangerously. “Explain.”

Barricade’s insane smile turned on her. “You proclaim you’re jumping through all these hoops to save us from some unseen horror on the horizon, but you’re just another selfish bastard in it for yourself. I’ve finally figured it all out. If what happened in there,” she tilted her head to the motionless basin, “honestly rings true for the Destroyer, than you are only a more subtle beast, no more, no less. This isn’t about lives or morality, it’s about the Elements of Harmony.”

Her copy did not twitch a muscle, but Barricade could swear that the lights dimmed during the shift in the conversation’s tone. “You’re didn’t save Fluttershy because of some sense of justice, you need her alive to use the Elements of Harmony with her friends.” Barricade took a moment to connect the dots. “That’s why the Destroyer attacked her,” Barricade could not bear to say kill, even when butcher was a more suitable term for what she saw and heard. “He did so to cut the link between the Elements. Attack the weakest link, and the rest of the chain is useless; it’s one of the most basic rules of engagement.”

The Doppelganger’s lips curled around her teeth. Barricade ignored the threatening gesture and continued to madly rant, “You’re protecting her out of necessity, not desire, because...” Barricade trailed off. This creature’s stay, its strange abilities, and knowledge all collided with a single, pertinent thought: why use her own body as a means to communicate with her? Did it not have one of its own? It could have been convenience and nothing more than that, but the fact that the entity used subversion and manipulation subconsciously confirmed her suspicions. Nothing was more off putting than seeing oneself act so differently than how one normally does.

“You can’t do anything else, can you? You need the Elements because you’re not strong enough to do this on your own. That’s why you need a host to do your dirty work.” The silence confirmed Barricade’s assumption. The air had grown cold and harsh, crackling with energy flowing in torrents around the pair. The Doppelganger had yet to so much as twitch a muscle, but the taunt muscles and icy gaze spoke volumes about its wrath.

“You selfish, secretive, back-stabbing wretch,” Barricade took a step forward. “You proclaim safety and the purest intentions, but you’re using others to complete your own goals.” Barricade spat at the Doppelganger’s hooves. “The world you want is nearly here, but you want it remade in your own image, where everypony is as vile and disgusting as you. You believe a life is a small price to pay. A life is never so disposable. I deny your offer and will do everything in my power to stop you as equally hard as the Destroyer. Tooth and hoof, blood and bone, I will fight with every fiber of my being to save both Jetstream’s life and any poor souls that have the misfortune of meeting scum like you. You want to protect children... but you’re using my own daughter to fight your fight. You may not succum to bloodlust like some wild beast, but you’re an even worse kind of monster.”

Silence flooded the tent, accentuated only by the sound of Barricade’s own heart beat. The sound beat like thunder, despite being the most quiet of noises. The Doppelganger’s livid gaze pierced the air life daggers. Barricade did not back down in the slightest. If this disappointed the Doppelganger, if this killed her, her conscious was clear.

“Than you can baptise your soul in the blood of the fallen. Thousands will die in the oncoming storm, but at least your conscious is clean. Live with the knowledge that the blood of innocents is on your head.” The Doppelganger’s voice was as even and calm as the night. “Into the darkness I’ll sing them a song.”

The Doppelganger slowly turned around and walked to the door. “If I cannot obtain your assistance, I will do this myself.”

Nevertheless, Barricade said, “I will fight you.”

The Doppelganger stopped and turned around. Contrary to the previous venom saturating her voice, this time she sounded almost... pleased. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“This is just a dream,” Barricade growled quickly. “You can’t hurt me here.”

“Does that make it any less real?” She turned around again and walked to the door. “Brimstone,” she called over her shoulder.

“What?” Barricade faltered.

“Brimstone,” she repeated. “My name is Brimstone.”

“Brimstone’s not a name.”

“Wake up.”

Doctor Hemos jumped back as Barricade shot to a sitting position. Slowly, she turned to the startled group of ponies who stared at her sudden rise from sleep. One of the nurses had prepared a small packet of smelling salts, but she had halted administering it with an unspoken directive to halt from Hemos.

“Captain, do feel you well? You’ve been asleep for the past hour,” Hemos said. Barricade put a hoof to her head and pulled it away for examination. Seeing nothing attached she examined the rest of herself carefully. Those present gave the mare the time to check herself out.

“I’m... I’m alright.” The built-up tension in everyone’s posture eased, especially the eagle-eyed Lieutenant Chaser. Even if the danger had apparently passed, her eyes flashed across Barricade’s body, her eidetic memory taking absorbing everything in a single sweep.

“It was just a bad dream... what dream?” She could only remember vague impulses like light, silence, and pain, but not the actual contents of what brought her to the land of the living. Her hoof rose to her shoulder, rubbing a wound that was not actually there.

“I feel...” Barricade swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “I don’t remember what I was dreaming about, and I think I’m glad.” It was poor form to be caught scrambling like a foal over something as small as a bad dream.

‘What happened?’ Barricade thought. She felt exhausted. Her past wounds and the exertion of recent events made the mare pay a heavy price. The only emotions she could gather from the leftover dream fragments were fear and a complete, blind hatred. Of what, the Captain was uncertain.

Lightning was the one to finally break the tension. Bowing her head slightly, she said, “It’s good to see you alive and well, Captain.”

Barricade had already examined the patch of gauze on her flank and the layers of bindings wrapped around her stomach and found the bandages to be fresh. The creature really had done quite a number on her.

“Was I – ”

“No.” It was Doctor Hemos who responded. Now that the tent had calmed, he had resumed his duties by examining her vitals. Rows of machines blipped and flashed, projecting data that the Doctor understood in an instant. Blood pressure, pulse, O2 saturation, and a few specialty instruments used to examine magic and the pony brain. Concern flashed across the Doctor’s face and was gone in a flash. “I never lost you. I was worried the arrowhead would fracture upon removal and complicate matters, but its removal was swift and without incident.”

“Captain.” came a stern voice near the back. A pony had just entered in full military uniform.

“Major Stormcloud,” Barricade fought to sit up, but the Major held up a hoof.

“At ease, Captain. Rest easy, but I’m here with you on business until Princess Celestia leaves. I need you to come with me; reports say your new friend is getting a little antsy and I’d like to make sure he calms down before we leave.”

“With all due respect, Major,” Hemos said, “Captain Barricade is my patient and is under my care until I clear her to leave.”

“True, but I have the power to override preceding orders in the interest of security and public safety. Make sure she is fit to move for the next hour. I need her until then, where she shall then be returned to you, Doctor.” Without verifying his orders were followed, the Major turned on his hooves and left the tent. “Make sure she gets a cloud,” he told some unnamed soldier escorting him. The Guard nodded and followed the Major out into the rain.

Hemos, disgruntled as ever, gave a disappointed snort. “Saddle up, Captain; we’re going on a trip – what’s that?” Hemos asked after hearing Barricade hum a soft tune.

“La la la la, la la la la... it’s nothing, just a tune that came to mind.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Cor Thunder, Material Defender

Author's Note

Did you know there was an alternate cut to Barricade's chat with Brimstone? You can find the original scene HERE.

Chapter 18: The Right Hand of God

Chapter 18: The Right Hand of God

Doctor Hemos was not happy at the new turn of events. Captain Barricade was his responsibility and certainly not well enough to be discharged. A formal complaint had already been drafted in his mind to be sent to his superiors, but he had no immediate authority to override Major Stormcloud.

It was decided that Barricade would forgo her armor. She always wished to make an impression, but assembling the pieces and trying to move with them proved to be too troublesome. That, and Hemos would not stop having a fit about the armor aggravating her wounds. She didn’t want to be rushed back to the hospital due to some torn stitches or have to listen to Hemos drone any longer. She wasn’t sure which prospect she dreaded more: being coddled or dealing with Hemos.

Hemos knew better than to give the captain grief, especially with Stormcloud a few yards away. Muttering under his breath, he gave Barricade one last check up before a pony pushed a bloated cloud into the hospital.

“Ugh,” Barricade groaned. “I can walk on my own.”

“I want this by the book, captain, and that includes you. It’s protocol.” Stormcloud eyed her cooly. “Get on the cloud.”

Barricade huffed, but there was nothing stopping Stormcloud. Climbing onto its fluffy surface, she sat on her rump and opened her wings. Whenever a pony was too injured to walk or a pegasus’s wings too injured to fly, they were given a cloud as a means of transportation. Barricade’s wounds were no longer life threatening, but they were fresh enough for Hemos to prescribe bed rest and, therefore, necessitated the use of a cloud for any exertive distance.

Lightning Chaser moaned and facehoofed at the new turn of events; if Barricade was no longer present to divert Hemos’ attention, it would fall upon the hospital’s last remaining patient: her. Hemos cackled darkly.

“You’re coming too, doctor. I want an eye on her,” Stormcloud ordered. Hemos eyed Stormcloud questioningly, but nodded in acceptance and prepared a saddlebag.

“Keep the place running smooth until I return,” he called to the nurses on staff. He began stuffing items neatly into his personal bag: notepad, an emergency med kit, a few personal and work-related items, and he was ready. Grabbing a cloak to ward off the rain, he joined the stoic major, two Royal Guardponies, and a disgruntled captain for their trip to the creature’s tent.

As they left, Lieutenant Chaser thrust a hoof into the air victoriously. Sure, the doctor would return, but a few more moments without Hemos’ legendarily crude bedside manner was always good.

A bubbly, blond-maned nurse with an empty vial cutie mark entered from the back carrying a brain scan. “We just received your test results, Ms. Chaser. The concussion is minor, as predicted, so you're allowed to leave, but not permitted to return to active duty as of yet.”

“Buck yeah, I’m gone.” Lightning Chaser promptly hopped off the bed and signed the document’s in the nurse’s outstretched hoof. After signing her release form, the nurse called to her while she was on her way out.

“You can stay if you wish. It’s still raining outside.”

Lightning Chaser’s thoughts turned to the inevitable return of the doctor. She shivered slightly. “Bite my fat, furry flank.”

Most ponies imagined the armor of the Royal Guard to be heavy and cumbersome, not realizing that the forging process used Magi to enchant the molten steel as it was being cast in the forges. Spells and enchantments were woven into the very heart of the metal, decreasing their weight and adding attributes like flexibility and resistance to minor spells.

One of those added enchantments was an Endure Elements spell to help resist extreme cold and heat. Without her armor, it was actually less comfortable for Barricade as she drifted on her cloud.

The cloak was thick enough to take most of the bite out of the downpour, but she could feel a trickle of wetness run across her skin every time she beat her wings. As she was not allowed to do something as childishly simple as walk, her only means of locomotion were to flap her wings to propel her cloud foreword.

Stormcloud walked south with head held high and without a word. The dappled, gray pegasus, clad in his golden armor, kept his face blank until they reached an intersection. “I’m afraid I must part with you here. I am returning to Canterlot with Princess Celestia and promised to meet with her before our departure. Continue; I’ll meet with you shortly.”

Doctor Hemos and Captain Barricade nodded, “Yes, Major,” they spoke together.

Stormcloud and his two pony entourage headed east while Barricade and Hemos continued south to their destination. They did not get very far, for as soon as they passed the mess hall, they were spotted by a pony that quickly scampered out into the deluge to join them.

“Captain!’

The pair stopped momentarily. “Well met, Corporal Shade.”

Shade shifted uncomfortably in the rain before standing tall. “I just wanted to tell you that Princess Luna has been informed and...” He trailed off and shifted again again.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia if you just keep standing in place. Spit it out,” Barricade mumbled. Having to ride around on a cloud had blackened her mood to be as dark as the storm.

“I... I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior, captain. I was out of line.”

Barricade waved the Corporal off, clearly not in the mood to dwell on such matters. “Apology accepted.” Without so much as a parting goodbye, Barricade beat her wings and propelled herself down the street. Hemos cantered after her and, surprisingly, so did Shade.

“Talk while you walk, Corporal; I’m not stopping.” Barricade called without turning her head. She really wanted off that cloud.

Shade quickened his pace to match hers. “I’ve been thinking. Should we tell the citizens of Ponyville our suspicions about the second creature?”

“Not a chance,” she replied curtly.

Shade blinked back surprise. He could tell she was in a sour mood, but he didn’t expect an answer that abrupt. “But they have the right to know!”

“Know what!? That a creature we know absolutely nothing about managed to slip away from from us, managed to fight monsters in the Everfree Forest on even ground, built a portal out of unknown materials, and hasn’t been seen since?”

“Yes! Then they at least know something is still wrong! If a creature is that stealthy and that dangerous, they deserve to know that something is out there. At least give them a fighting chance.”

“And cause a panic,” Barricade countered. She wished to stop there, but arguing brightened her mood, so she continued with her thoughts. “Public confidence has already been shaken due to the appearance of the Farlander Portal, and just a spitting distance away from Canterlot and Ponyville, no less. We have one of the creatures. We will use that to boost morale and confidence, and only then will we reveal that there is another hiding out there. Who knows, maybe this creature can give us some pointers on where to start looking.”

“It’s an awfully big risk. That builder alien snuck into our perimeter undetected. If a creature we know about can do that, what can this other one do?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Corporal, but this is our best option, considering what we have. We will act based on what we know, not what we think.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to. Just follow orders.” Barricade’s tone made it clear that the conversation was finished.

“Very well, Captain. I hope you recover soon.” The two exchanged a nod and Shade turned on his hoof and galloped into the stormy night.

Night... as she watched Shade race off into the darkness, her body reminded her just how exhausted she really was. Being awake all day, running patrols, coordinating an entire base, and getting mortally wounded had taken a gave toll on her. Her muscles felt like jelly and she felt the beckoning call of sleep behind the comforting darkness of her eyelids.

Hemos saw the weariness of his charge and opened his mouth to make a statement. “Not a word,” Barricade said before he could. Knowing he would get nowhere reasoning with the stubborn mare, he let it go, if momentarily.

Even from a distance, they could see that the creature’s containment tent was enshrouded in the red bubble of shielding magic. As they approached their target, the pair spotted a large crowd of off duty Guardponies jostling for a peek inside. The Night Guards at the door refused to grant entry, no matter when the curious crowd offered boons, food, leave time, and, in one case case, sexual favors.

Barricade sighed and hopped off her cloud. Hemos took a concerned step forward as she winced upon landing, but she waved him off. “This isn't a petting zoo! Off with ya!”

Those that recognized Barricade’s voice scattered immediately, but there were a few whom had not yet encountered the burly mare. A very, very foolish Night Guard called over his shoulder, “Beat it!”

One of the fleeing guards called over his shoulder to their woeful brethren, “Fly, you fool! You know not your peril!”

Barricade smiled wickedly; ‘Oh, tonight is a good night.’ The Guard eyed his comrades questioningly, curious as to the source of their sudden and unprompted actions. Hearing the hooffalls of somepony behind him, he turned around to chastise his guest.

Barricade trotted into the tent with a very pleased smile on her face, nearly kicking over a bucket of water on her way in. Doctor Hemos – shockingly – shared a crooked smile. “I think I’ll be seeing him in the infirmary when I return.”

“Admit it; you loved it as much as I did. And I didn’t touch the colt.”

“I’m sure his therapy sessions will agree with you.”

Barricade snorted, which, in turn, made the doctor wheeze. ‘Is that how he laughs?’ Barricade thought. She didn’t ponder such things for much longer, for she only just noticed how tense the mood in the room truly was.

Hexxus Incantus had taken over as the magus on guard and his horn cloaked in ruby-red light; it was his barrier Barricade and Doctor Hemos had passed through just outside the tent. Hexxus had on his face an expression of rapt attention, whilst the dozen Night Guards looked ready to spring any second.

The source of everyone’s ire was, of course, the alien biped working his strange magic. He had acquired four planks and arranged them in a square on the ground. Barricade must have blinked, because some type of workbench popped into existence by some unknown means.

“I swear to Celestia, Captain Barricade, he just punched it, is all. I swear it, I swear to Celestia, I do,” one Night Guard babbled in a single breath as soon as he lay his eyes on her. She was about to ask what he was talking about before she spotted a one meter wide square hole in the ground. “Gone! He punched the ground out of existence! Dirt punch, captain! Dirt Punch! I swear to – ”

“Quiet!” Barricade’s call for silence also garnered the attention of the biped. He waved slowly upon seeing her extensive pink hair, but said nothing.

“Has he said anything?” Barricade asked the nearest soldier.

“Not a word, Captain. He just sat there for just over an hour and then started to get nervous, conjuring weapons at will and getting spooked at the slightest movement. Just a few moments before you got here, he started conjuring stuff and punching dirt.” The soldier sighed after he said that. “I’m so applying for leave on psychological grounds when my shift is done.”

“Orders, Captain?” asked the pony in charge of the squad, a Lieutenant with an unknown name.

“You!” Barricade shouted at the creature, but Hexxus held out a hoof to stop her.

“This is our chance. He’s behaving out of his own instincts and impulses, not out of self defense. This is the perfect opportunity to observe the creature’s nature and behavior.”

“We don’t know what he’s trying to do,” Barricade whispered back. The creature had stopped his activities and watched Barricade curiously due to her outburst.

“And this is the perfect time to rectify that. His powers are strange and fantastic, but that’s no reason to be frightened of him. Let us learn from him. The base is swarming with Magi and soldiers; let us give him a little leeway.”

“Your barrier’s still intact, right.”

“Of course, Captain. Above and below ground with a twenty feet diameter.” Indeed, his horn was cloaked in a ruby-red glow. “Unless he knows barrier cancellation magic, he is securely contained.”

“Very well.” A beat. “Let him do as he wishes for now, everypony.”

“Yes, Captain!” the squad replied. The creature, upon seeing Barricade was not going to interact with him any longer, continued his work. He placed two wooden planks onto the workbench and slammed his right hand down.

Pop!

With an audible sound, the planks shifted into a small collection of sticks. The Night Guards surrounding him gasped in unison.

“Easy, soldiers,” Barricade commanded. “Be ready to make a move, but let him be.” Barricade moved closer to Hexxus.

The creature, unsure if he appreciated the new level of attention, shifted uncomfortably under this newfound scrutiny. He examined his guards, searching for any hostile intent in their posture. Finding none, he nervously continued his work, a keen eye still on the ponies.

Scooping up the sticks, they shifted unnaturally into a thick, brown sludge and circled his arm. The shapeless sticks held that form for just a moment before rushing towards the creature’s chest and vanishing from sight. Immediately afterwards, a dull gray blob took its place in his right hand. Pointing to the ground adjacent to his stone seat, the ooze leaped from the creatures hand like an asp and solidified into two cobblestone cubes next to his stone seat.

“Fascinating,” breathed the professor. “To casually wield power as impossible as it is unique...”

“What do you mean?” asked Barricade.

“Such perfection does not occur in nature, or even by magic. There is always a margin of error involved: a slight discrepancy in magical regents, location not quantumly exact; a spell or motion cannot be performed exactly the same way twice. It’s just not physically possible.

“But this creature can conjure items in exact dimensions every time.” The creature nodded at his craftsmanship and conjured pair of sticks. “I would gamble that if we measured those two stone cubes, their dimensions would equal each other perfectly right down to the millimeter, even in composition. Nopony in Equestria – in the world! – can reproduce such a feat, not even the Princesses, the Archmage, or Twilight Sparkle.”

The creature paired the sticks together like a staff and thrust them into the two cobblestone blocks. The cobblestone lost cohesion and hissed. Barricade wasn’t sure what just happened, and even Hemos cocked his head in confusion. Grunting in exertion, the creature yanked on the sticks.

Barricade was pretty sure she missed something, for the items had transfigured into an unremarkable garden hoe. “A hoe?” Hemos questioned. Indeed, everyone present could see the teeth-like protrusions running across the stone head. The leftover bits of cobblestone not used in the hoe’s construction crumbled into ash and scattered in the slight wind funneling through the tent flap.

Hexxus chuckled in delight. “Marvelous! I’ve never seen such wondrous magic!”

The creature began raking the ground around the hole, tilling the soil. The creature, however, was unsatisfied with his work. He stared at the tilled ground questioningly, unsure of some obscure event within the depths of his mind. After a few moments of contemplation, the creature absorbed his hoe into his body and got to his knees. Raising a closed fist, he thrust it into the dirt with all his might.

Just like the cobblestone moments ago, the soil rippled as if made of liquid and vanished from sight. “Overridden...” Hexxus stared at the creature in complete awe.

“What do you mean, professor?” Barricade asked.

“His abilities. His magic is so different from our own, it needs to override normal physics in order to function properly.” Hexxus’ smile of delight only widened as the same cube of dirt replaced the square the creature had just absorbed. “Yes! Let’s see if I’m right...”

“What are you talking about?” she asked irritably.

The creature raked his hoe across the dirt once more. Instead of the shaky lines cut into the dirt like before, each line was even and uniform. He nodded in satisfaction; it was perfection once more.

“Yes. Yes!” Hexxus almost pranced in excitement. “His powers aren’t compatible with the rules governing Equestria’s laws of magic and thermodynamics, so he’s absorbing materials and forcibly converting them to abide by the rules governing his own magic.”

“That is most definitely not something to be excited about,” said Barricade, alarmed.

“I can’t help but be fascinated at something so strange and fantastic.”

Both fell silent as the creature picked up the bucket of water and brought it to his makeshift farm. “I thought he would like to wash up a little, so I asked for that to be brought here,” Hexxus whispered in her ear. “It looks like we’ll need another if he is about to do what I think he is.”

The creature absorbed the bucket of water and conjured it once again. The clear liquid that had been sloshing about within its iron confines had stilled to a mirror smooth finish. Walking back to his farm, he set the bucket on the ground and proceeded to remove his shirt.

“Sweet Celestia, what happened to you...” Hemos breathed. That was the closest Barricade had ever heard the doctor come to cursing, and she could see why. As the creature proceeded to wring out his shirt of all the offending perspiration and rainwater staining it, his back was on display for all to see. Dozens of scars, perhaps even hundreds, marred his muscled form from neck to loins. Scrapes, scratches, slashes, bites, burns, and bruises, every wound imaginable was emblazoned across his back. From serious penetration wounds to what looked like chemical burns, Barricade was amazed that the creature hadn’t died ten times over.

Without even bothering with his wounds, some of them fresh due to his most recent fight, he put his shirt back on and dumped the water bucket into the hole. The water poured from the bucket in a single, unnatural stream, not even rippling or flowing as the bucket emptied.

Satisfied that his tiny farm was properly watered and the soil tilled, he switched the bucket with his next item: a handful of seeds. One olive-tinted seed was selected for each portion of tilled earth. He nodded one last time and rubbed his hands together; his work was done. Whatever magic he had just cast seemed to take much out of the creature’s stamina; he was close to panting and was perspiring heavily. Several of the creature wounds remained untended as well; that was something she was about to fix.

Before Barricade could call for Hemos, the creature conjured a loaf of bread and began to devour it happily. When finished - just like last time - there was a noticeable improvement in the creature’s vitality. His cheeks flushed with color, his visible wounds sealed to naught but scars, and he held himself higher as his exhaustion vanished.

“Doctor... look him over, will you?”

Hemos placed a hoof forward to do so and was nearly barreled over by a galloping pony. Diamond Solitaire, clad in his Council robes, dashed through the entrance. The creature also watched the entrance, curious as to the identity of the new arrival. “My humblest apologies for my tardiness, Master Hexxus; I am afraid I am not accustomed to such a late hour.” True to his word, Diamond’s usually pristine robes were disheveled and unwashed and his rain cloak was half hazardly fitted.

Hexxus sighed happily. “As much as I would love to stay and learn some more, I - too - am weary at this late hour. Captain Barricade,” He nodded to the pegasus. “Doctor Hemos, Master Solitaire.” The group nodded back and Diamond’s horn cloaked itself in white to replace Hexxus’ own containment shield. “Oh! Before I forget, he was writing in some sort of diary or journal earlier. If we had the chance of examining it, we may be able to decrypt his language and find a common dialog between our races.” Barricade nodded, shuffling that thought away for later. “Farewell.” Professor Hexxus vanished in a flash of light.

The creature dropped its remaining seeds and conjured his sword. It bolted to the nearest corner, the Night Guard fleeing to avoid being bowled over. The creature’s eyes were wide, darting across the tent. Barricade noticed he wasn’t watching the Night Guard or even herself; he was watching the air above them for any signs of danger.

“Hey, hey! Easy!”

Her words meant nothing to the biped, whom only carefully scanned the tent with blade in hand. What little pleasure he garnered crafting his miniature farm vanished into a cold tightness. His muscles were tight and prepared for battle. Barricade needed to diffuse the situation before anypony got hurt, as the Night Guards slowly encroached.

“Do I need to remind anypony what I said last time I was here?” Barricade demanded. Sheepishly, the Night Guards backed off. The creature looked confused, not due to their actions, but due to his search not producing any results.

“Come on, big guy; there’s nothing here to hurt you. That was just Professor Hexxus,” Barricade soothed. She had stepped forward, but as a precaution, did not step within striking range.

The creature lowered his sword and examined Barricade with a questioning look. Lowering his sword, he held up his other hand in a closed fist and opened it. “I do not understand.” Barricade shook her head to reaffirm her confusion. Once again, the creature repeated the gesture.

“Perhaps he is attempting to convey his confusion with magic, Captain Barricade,” Diamond commentated. “If memory serves, I do not believe any unicorn has encountered our friend and displayed their abilities.”

“That’s true – cut the chatter!” Barricade ordered the Night Guard. A few were whispering to their wingponies. “That’s true, magus. Perhaps...” Barricade walked to the creature cautiously, still careful around him as long as he carried a weapon. Without her armor, she had the advantage of increased speed, but was still hindered by her wounds.

Barricade tugged on his shirt to get to his attention. She pointed to Diamond Solitaire. “Magus, please teleport a foot to your left, please.” Barricade backed away, just in case the creature started swinging out of surprise. Diamond vanished in a flash of white light and reappeared a slight distance away.

The creature once more huddled into the corner with surprise. He pointed at the magus and made the same flashing gesture with his hand. Barricade nodded. “Yes, that was him. Professor Hexxus did the same thing.” The creature’s widened in amazement, and pointed at Barricade. She shook her head.

The creature looked at her, not sure what to think. As quick as a flash, he returned to his workbench. He conjured wood, and began the motions once more, Barricade could not help but sit and watch the show before her. The creature’s actions were quick and practiced. What skill he lacked in swordsmanship, he most certainly made it up in building and craftsmanship. After a few swift moments, he carried a sign along with a quill and bag of ink and began to doodle.

He drew three very crude stick figures across its surface: an earth pony, a biped carrying a pickaxe, and a second biped, this one extremely tall with gangly limbs. He pointed to the pictogram of himself, made the gesture, and shook his head. Next, he pointed to the pony pictogram and tilted his head questioningly. Barricade shook her head and grabbed the quill with her teeth. Carefully, she scrawled a horn on the stick pony and pointed at Diamond Solitaire.

The creature nodded furiously in understanding. It then pointed at the tall creature, made the teleportation gesture, and nodded.

“Ooooooh, ponyfeathers,” Barricade swore in understanding.

“Captain?” Hemos asked questioningly.

Barricade didn’t answer the doctor. She grabbed the quill once more and scribbled a large rectangle above the two bipeds. The creature pointed to the figure representing himself, the tall figure, and the portal, and nodded.

“Captain?”

“There truly are two creatures, doctor, and he knows the other.”

The creature tapped Barricade’s shoulder to get attention. Turning curiously, she saw the creature was pointing at the sign displaying the three creatures. He was pointing at the tall creature specifically, and he shook his head.

Barricade also shook her head. “I don’t understand.” The creature pointed again, vehemently stressing something only it could understand. Barricade shook her head once more. The creature hissed and stomped in frustration.

“Hey! Take it easy!” Barricade glared at the creature. Neither could understand the other completely, but frustration at a language barrier was not just cause to have a fit. Plus, Barricade was making too much headway as it was; nopony deployed in Ponyville had detected neither hide nor hair of the second creature other than the fact that it existed. The creature standing in front of her was their best shot to learn why that was, and maybe get one up on it.

The creature took a few calming breaths, and then immediately conjured a sword. Barricade hopped backwards a step, but the creature only pointed at his crystalline blade, then to the Farlander, and shook his head.

“So... don’t attack it?” Barricade cocked her head in confusion. “Why?”

The creature could see that it’s intent was still not delivered properly. He dispelled his blade and pointed at his own eyes, then the eyes of the Farlander, and shook his head. Next, he covered his own eyes, pointed to them behind his palm, pointed to the Endermen, and nodded.

“...Don’t look?” She examined the blocky Farlander drawing. Judging by size alone, the Farlander had to be at least three times as tall as a pony, towering over even Princess Celestia. How could such a beast hide? Then again, if it had the power to teleport freely, her question was answered. ‘That’s why Lieutenant Chaser’s reinforcements didn’t find it at the waterfall; it just teleported away...’

As she turned to look at the drawing, the creature covered the crude drawing’s eyes and shook his head. “Don’t look it in the eyes... why?” Barricade nodded in understanding. The creature covered his eyes and nodded his head, then opened his eyes, conjured his sword, and stabbed his stick figure self.

“If you look at it, it attacks... I don’t know how that works, but alright.” Barricade once again nodded her understanding. The creature nodded back, satisfied that his message was successfully delivered.

Barricade got the attention of the Lieutenant on staff, a lean Night Guard with a single eye for a cutie mark. “Send word up the grape vine that I want this guy moved off site as soon as possible. He’s been cooperative so far, but I don’t want to push my luck any further than necessary. Have them select a spot well away from town and the Everfree Forest and staffed with enough Magi to keep him contained. Secondly, file an official report on what he just told us. I want an Addendum on the second creature’s traits and abilities ready to go by morning. Lastly, I want the Maji rolled out of their beds – Every. Last. One. – and have them shield the entire base against unauthorized teleportation. Leave no stone unturned, and if anypony gives this order grief, tell them to meet me personally.”

“Acknowledged, captain.” The Night Guard nodded to his second, a corporal, and exited.

“A wise precaution.” Diamond commented.

“I hope its not needed. If any ponies give that order grief, I can have the satisfaction of sending them to Hemos for a mandatory examination. Now doctor, if you please?”

Hemos sighed and stepped forward. The creature, understanding a little better the differences between the pony races, eyed his horn suspiciously. “Comprehensive and detailed musculature indicate he’s accustomed to extensive and hard labor. Digitoid appendages provide a more wide and free range of movement and dexterity.” Hemos stepped closer and the creature stepped back, still wary of the unicorn. “No noticeable indications that his abilities are biological in origin, but race is still undetermined, so that idea is still a possibility. Given cranial bone placement, facial and bodily follicle growth, posture, and assumed skeletal structure, I would hypothesize primate ancestry.”

Hemos took in his overall wellbeing and health. “He appears to be fit and in good health, but I cannot verify the accuracy of that hypothesis without more data. I don’t see any debilitating injuries or sickness leftover from his scars, so either his regenerative ability healed them, or he’s dabbled in enough medicine to fix them himself. Toned body and physical fitness imply healthy metabolism,” Hemos sneezed. “but hygiene is still an issue.”

Hemos wrinkled his nose, which fascinated the creature. Hemos took the advantage and swiftly scanned his opened mouth. “Jaw contains maxillary and mandibular lateral and central incisors in addition to a pair of maxillary and mandibular canines, indicating a carnivore.” That sent a ripple of anxiety through the crowd of Night Guards. The very idea that they were in the presence of a meat eater tensed muscles and tightened fears.

“I find that more than a little strange, doctor; you just saw him yourself eat – ” Barricade began, but the doctor interrupted her.

“Strike that. I see a couple sets of molars wedged in the back. Omnivore, not carnivore.” A few Night Guards audibly sighed in relief.

“Captain?” Came the voice of the one of the outside wardens. “Major Stormcloud is here to speak with you.”

Barricade opened the tent flap to let the dripping major inside. “You know, a rain cloak would do wonders, major.”

“Indeed it would. My escort was instructed to cast a ward for my trip here, but momentarily dropped it in excitement when she discovered she was coming here with me.” Stormcloud shook off the excess water staining his burnished gold armor and coat. Clad in full military regalia, it was only customary to fulfill traditional protocol; Barricade and those present stood at attention and saluted. The creature whirled about, confused and startled at the sudden, synchronized movement.

“At ease, soldiers.” He addressed Barricade, “The Princess is nearly ready to depart. Is there anything to report?”

“Plenty. The doc is performing a preliminary check-up right now and we’ve got a firmer grasp on how his abilities work,” she grinned conspiratorially. “But the real kicker is that this creature knows the other one.”

Stormcloud sighed happily. “More good news. I’ve been waiting for that for some time. However, can the creature speak? I wish to talk with him.”

“That’s a negative. He doesn’t understand our language and doesn’t speak any of his own. He’s made grunts and whimpers, so he clearly has a working pair of vocal chords, but he just doesn’t use them. Professor Hexxus said he carries a book of some kind; perhaps we can learn a common language from that, be he’s going to have to give it up first.”

Doctor Hemos had finished his preliminary examination and lazily walked over to greet them. “Major.”

“Well met, doctor. Now let me get a good look at this creature for myself.” Barricade and Hemos stepped aside for Stormcloud. The creature, curious as to the source of the Night Guard’s reaction, met his eyes.

His reaction was sudden and violent.

The air hissed with the sound of grinding stone as his sword raked across his cobblestone seat in his flight to the corner once again. Barricade was surprised at that fact that the blade was not pointed at her, but at the major.

Barricade braced herself for a potential fight, as did every other Night Guard on the room. The creature huddled in the corner and was shaking so violently that his sword threatened to fly out of his grip. It was more than just the uncertainty or simple fear, it was blind terror. Sweat streamed down his brow and into his eyes, his wide, horrified eyes. Such a reaction was not produced by the mere startelement like with Professor Hexxus. He was more than just threatened by the Major, he was scared out of his mind.

“Major... please back out of the room. Slowly.”

Despite Stormcloud being higher on the chain of command, he did as Barricade requested without question. The creature eyed the major like a coiled serpent, ready to strike in the space of the slightest breath. “Watch him close, but don’t do anything unless he attacks. And stay out of striking range,” Barricade addressed the group before following the major out into the night. Doctor Hemos and Diamond Solitaire followed suit, the former due to keeping track of his charge’s well-being and the latter out of sheer curiosity. The creature did not move from its corner, even to escape through the thin tent walls; his undivided attention remained firmly locked on the retreating major.

The four ponies met outside and out of the posted guards hearing range, passing through Diamond’s barrier with ease. He cast a secondary shielding spell, this one to dispel the rain in a bubble so they could speak without distraction.

“What just happened, captain?” Stormcloud asked over the drumming rain.

“I don’t know. He shouldn’t bear a grudge against you; you’ve only just arrived.”

Diamond held a hoof to his chin in thought. “Still, why does he hate him?”

“That wasn’t hate, magus. That was fear. Pure, unbridled fear,” Barricade said.

“Pupil dilation, increased sweating, shortness of breath; it was a classic panic attack,” Hemos added.

“...But why?” Stormcloud asked. “If anypony, he should be afraid of you, captain. You are the one who apprehended him. You are the one who defeated him.”

“I don’t know, major. I really don’t.”

Barricade took a moment to ponder events. The creature currently under guard had fought tooth and hoof to escape capture during the first incursion, encountering a member of Princess Luna’s personal guard, and the Princess herself. That was a unicorn, an alicorn, and a Night Guard, all of which the creature displayed little to no fear of. What was so different about these circumstances? Civilian, soldier, sovereign. What was the connection?

The creature had never seen Stormcloud until that point. What was the difference between him and herself? Gender? Was it that simple? Barricade did not think so. Soldier armor was mostly uniform in design, with the exception of rank engraved on each helmet and custom helmets assigned to officers. That gave the impression of uniformity among ranks, making it difficult to tell gender by armor alone.

Armor...

“Wait...”

The creature had encountered bare civilians, Princess Luna in her regalia, armored Night Guards, and herself. Stormcloud wore the same Royal Guardpony armor as herself, but right there lay the key difference between the creature meeting her, and the creature meeting the major: she was wearing a cloak during her battle with the creature. He couldn’t possible see her armor other than her helmet, and that was one of a kind.

Could it be that simple? Was that all that was going on?

“Major, if you please, I’d like you to do something for me.”

“And that would be what, captain?”

“Return to the creature’s containment room without your armor.”

That was not what Stormcloud thought he would hear. He barked a laugh and said, “I’m fairly certain I’m not his type.”

Barricade snorted and playfully punched Stormcloud in the shoulder. Due to the size differential, he stumbled before regaining his footing. “I should tell you how I met my husband some time.” Barricade digressed. “But I have a theory I need your help with. Please, bear with me for a moment.”

Stormcloud chuckled, but after a moment of thought, turned on his hooves to do exactly what he was asked to perform. After a few moments, the major returned to the tent entrance, completely bare save for his towershield cutie mark. “I have a very severe reprimand in mind if you are wasting my time, captain.”

“Ah!” Diamond winced. “He – no... no, I have him.”

“Magus Solitaire?” Stormcloud asked, concerned.

“Our friend just tried to escape by burrowing underground.”

The four ponies raced back into the tent. The Night Guard had crowded around a hole adjacent to the creature’s miniature garden, all peering down into the black depths.

“Wall!” Barricade commanded. The squad retreated to the tent walls, clearing a path.

“He’s trying to bludgeon through my spell, but he’s not successful. Whatever power he may have, it does not appear to be able to cancel my spell.” Barricade took a quick peek down the hole while Diamond cast a simple light spell to illuminate its depths. The creature had burrowed a depth of twenty feet – twenty! In just a few seconds! – and hacked at Diamond’s white shield with his pickaxe. Diamond winced with every strike, but his bubble held firm. With every strike, ripples coursed across the mirror-smooth surface, but the construct’s integrity remained steadfast.

“Are you done down there?” Barricade asked. The creature looked up and, upon seeing her familiar lengthy hair cascading into the hole, calmed ever so slightly. “Get up here.” Barricade tapped the ground on the edge of the hole and backed off. Diamond retreated as well, while Hemos remained near the entrance and Stormcloud braced himself for a potential fight.

The room eyed the hole gingerly, waiting for whatever wild machination or attack that would spring out of the depths. A minute passed. Than two. Than five.

“Magus?” Stormcloud questioned.

“He is burrowing to discover the extent of my barrier. He has not escaped, major,” Diamond replied, occasionally wincing. “He’s tunneling remarkably fast for a creature so large; I feel his steps across my shield.”

After a few more moments of wait, a pair of eyes peeked over the hole’s edge of the hole, taking in the whole room before ducking to safety. “Come out, you little gopher,” Barricade urged. She mentally facehoofed; with all she had been trying to teach the creature, she felt like she was raising a child again.

Recognizing the deep alto voice, the creature slowly rose from his sanctuary. How he had managed to climb that far out of it was a mystery until she recalled his conjuring abilities. With the delicacy of a mouse pursuing a tasty morsel, he planted his hands on the moist earth, pickaxe in hand, and pushed himself out.

Dirt and perspiration clung to his body. He wiped a forearm across his brow and fledgling beard, cleaning away the droplets of sweat at the cost of painting his face in streaks of brown. The soldiers painted across the room stood stock still, fearing the creature’s attack but the wrath of their superior even more. For a moment, nopony moved.

The creature scanned the room once again: a squad of guards – all pressed to the walls as ordered, a unicorn with his frightful and strange abilities, a doctor, a battle-hardened warrior and victor of their duel only hours earlier, and...

The creatures eyes took in Stormcloud, wings and all. Barricade dug her hooves into the dirt, ready to engage in fisticuffs once again if the creature provoked a fight. A fight which - thankfully - did not occur. He passed over Stormcloud with naught but mild curiosity at worst. Barricade waved to get the creature’s attention.

“Outside,” Stormcloud demanded. He knew, and Barricade knew in turn. This exact situation was what Barricade had predicted, and Stormcloud wanted to know why. “You two, stay.” Diamond nodded in acceptance, but Hemos was ready to argue. Stormcloud glared at him, not threatened, but full on dared him to object to his orders. Sensing it was not a battle that could be won, Hemos gulped and nodded.

“A moment, captain,” Diamond said. He shuffled off his rain cloak and presented it to here. “I suspect Doctor Hemos would be most displeased if your bindings became saturated in the rain.” Barricade accepted the cloak gratefully and donned it.

“You all will forget everything you have seen and heard within the last five minutes,” Barricade said. Sixteen sets of eyes saluted her; the Night Guard would indeed take what they experienced to their graves. The creature returned Barricade’s wave with a confused look on his face, eyes still wary of the horror that scared it only moments ago. Barricade exited the tent and spotted Stormcloud pacing on the grass nearby with an expression of deep contemplation on his face.

“I do not understand.”

Barricade looked back at the temporary holding cell. “That creature encountered the Princess, myself, and a few Night Guards so far, and those are the ones that we know about, minus the civilians.”

Stormcloud perked up due to her specific choice of words. “What are you implying, captain?” Stormcloud demanded. Several couriers skittered around the pair, not wanting to catch his ire.

“I almost didn’t catch it myself,” She started to explain. Her voice was as hard as her superior’s. She knew the dire implications of what she was about to say, and knew neither was going to like it. She motioned for Stormcloud to follow her, setting a slow, deliberate pace in order to buy time to select her words very carefully. What she was about to explain had the potential to ruin lives and start wars.

Barricade did not elaborate on her words just yet. Past the tents she walked, weaving through soldiers and couriers alike in the deluge. Soon enough, the number of ponies they encountered grew fewer and fewer in number. The number of ponies were already few and far in between near the borders of the garrison, but Barricade’s intent was to find a location free of any prying eyes and ears. She soon found it in one of the supply tents free of any occupants. Stormcloud followed Barricade, knowing full well the mare desired privacy for what she needed to say.

“We’re as secure as we are going to get, Captain. No prying eyes. Now,” His eye dug into hers. “What’s going on?”

Barricade sighed and started retelling her theory, “We’ve never seen the creature’s kind, so assume for a moment he’s never seen ponies before. How would he react to... let’s say, a pair of sisters? What if he’s never seen a pony before, would he be able to tell them apart based on physical appearance alone?”

Stormcloud only took a nanosecond to respond, “Not likely. The genetic similarities would be too difficult for him to differentiate between the pair.”

“My thoughts exactly. He wouldn’t be able to tell us apart based on appearance alone, and that’s what threw me off. He’s escaped from both Princess Luna and Lieutenant Chaser. He almost killed me. That’s an Alicorn, a Night Guard, and a Royal Guardpony where he reacted in self preservation, not blind fear. Then I started thinking about the armor itself: two Royal Guardponies wearing their armor would appear nearly identical to him. That was what was confusing when he met you; we both wear standard issue armor, so why react to you and not me? ”

Stormcloud’s eyes lit up as he finally caught on to Barricade’s logic. “But you were wearing a rain cloak during your battle. He couldn’t see your armor.”

“Precisely. He saw you for the first time, and, to him, saw only a Royal Guardpony,” She leaned closer to Stormcloud, and when she spoke next, her voice was barely above a whisper. “He saw your armor and reacted in blind terror. Why should he be scared of just another pony? He’s fought worse than a soldier in the Everfree Forest; there’s an unconfirmed report he fought off a manticore. There is only one possible conclusion to draw from this.”

“I have not received any reports of any further incursions with the creature,” Stormcloud whispered, running a hoof through his graying mane. Why would a pony hide meeting the creature? He was the target of the biggest ponyhunt in the last twenty years, and yet with all those soldiers hunting for him, somepony encountered the creature and did not report the incident? Judging by his reaction, the trauma from the encounter was enough to scar him so deep that the mere sight of the Royal Guardpony sent the creature into a scared fit.

Somepony was hiding something and had the perfect means to do it: the creature couldn’t communicate with anypony.

“Neither have I, major. A Royal Guardpony encountered this creature and covered it up. Somepony’s not being honest with us and the question is, why?”

Near the eastern edge of the garrison, away from the bustle of military actions and the quiet hamlet, sat several carriages. Each one was decorated in elaborate scrollwork and pictograms and laurel leaves across all sides. Several dozen armored pegasi, earth ponies, and unicorns stood guard, vigilant guardians to their liege currently residing in one of those very carriages. Although the air was not enough to chill anypony to the bone, the rain was still unpleasant and voluminous enough to incur their ire. The more experienced soldiers had grown accustomed to such conditions to to their training, but that did not lessen the burden until Shooting Star, a court mage, congregated with the soldiers and produced a barrier spell to redirect the rain.

Captain Aegis, head of Princess Celestia’s personal Honor Guard, had left his second in command, Lieutenant Stratus. The current ponies had spread out in a web around the carriage with some pegasi maintaining low flight to guard their airspace. It was tricky business; although lightning had become less frequent in recent hours, nopony wished to press their luck any more than necessary. An armored pegasi’s armor had enchantments to resist electrical discharge, but even a weak strike could cause debilitating burns.

Some ponies pawed at the ground, eager to return to Canterlot and get out of the storm, but none was more eager to return than the princess herself. Rain pelted Celestia’s carriage in droves, lulling the weary princess inside into a very relaxed state. She had been running the ponyhunt affairs alongside her sister all day and the fatigue had tired the monarch greatly. She lay on several plush cushions, a wine glass suspended within her magiced grip. Anypony that entered at that moment would see their strong ruler, burdened under the weight if recent events. Two creatures running loose and an attack on Canterlot cast a dark on broad shadow.

Celestia sipped the ruby-red liquid and sighed pleasantly. The drink warmed her blood and color flooded Celestia’s cheeks, although not due to inebriation. Celestia always enjoyed indulging herself in sweets or alcohol, but it was not appropriate to overindulge at that time. She was expecting company soon.

A knock echoed through the spacious carriage. Celestis couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. “Speak of Discord and he shall appear.” Celestia finished the remainder of her drink in a deep gulp, sighed, and rose from her resting place. Her hoofs did not produce noise in the equally plush carpet as she sauntered to the door. “Speak.”

“Highness, Major Stormcloud has arrived. He claims he has important news and wishes to convey it to you directly,” the servant replied.

Celestia composed herself, drawing her head up and brushing away the complacency only moments ago. Unlocking the door and opening the hinges, Celestia stepped outside. Shooting Star had stepped aside from her place near the carriage. The damp ground hissed at Celestia’s touch, evaporating the water in the drenched ground. Several guards looked away from the princess, both in reverence and the brilliance she exuded in the dark and stormy night.

Major Stormcloud and two of his followers had bowed in her presence and continued to prostrate themselves as protocol demanded while in the presence of royalty. They did not move until the princess spoke, “Rise. What is your report?” Stormcloud rose and gazed upon his master. Celestia’s face was artfully smooth and barren of emotion. It was true strength, the might of a ruler that put her subjects before the safety and security of herself.

“I bring good news, Highness; naught two hours ago, Captain Barricade of the Pegasus Corps had successfully captured and contained one of the escaped creatures. So far, he has been reasonably cooperative, despite understandable fear of his situation. Captain Barricade was wounded in the scuffle, but First Lieutenant Doctor Hemos believes she will make a recovery.”

Celestia’s face was as still as porcelain until she carefully selected her response. “That relieves me greatly, Major Stormcloud. I wish to visit this creature myself, but that must wait until affairs in Canterlot have been settled. Send word to Princess Luna of this capture; she will have to take care of affairs in Ponyville and the Everfree.”

“It has already been done. I have received a missive from the princess stating she is coming to interrogate the creature herself, though that may be troublesome; he does not appear to be able to speak or understand our language.”

Troublesome indeed. Celestia digested his words before speaking. “Very well. Twilight Sparkle lives in Ponyville. She is as talented as any Magi, and I wish to have her input on this creature.”

Stormcloud nodded without question. “She will receive a missive with the morning post. However, I have one more piece of information. Captain Aegis is collecting four rather than two more squads for the return trip. I’m going to take this opportunity to learn about this creature, if you will it.”

“Permission granted.” Stormcloud nodded in thanks and took flight, taking extra special care to stay as low to the ground as possible. His entourage did not follow, instead folding in with the remainder of Celestia’s Honor Guard.

Celestia sighed, breathing in the moist, rural air. Being so far removed from Ponyville or the garrison, there was little in the air other than the heavy scent of water and fresh earth. It was a wonderful change of pace from the sterile purity of Canterlot Castle. The refreshing smells were enough of a change of pace that it made the monarch smile in satisfaction.

“I’ve always been a city mare myself,” Star commented. Celestia chuckled in embarrassment at her brief lapse of composure.

“It is not often that I can enjoy nature without the bustle of city life. You should try living in a rural town for awhile, Ms. Star; you might very well enjoy the experience.”

“Tried it once: wasn’t my cup of tea. I’ve never been one for a sedentary life. I need a little action and hustle to function, and I don’t get that out of small towns.”

“To each their own, Magus. Alert me when Captain Aegis and Major Stormcloud return. I will be retiring for the night.”

Shooting Star nodded and bowed as the princess turned on her hoofs. “Very well, Princess. Enjoy your rest.”

Celestia froze as soon as her hoof touched the carriage latch. Something... a something was all she had to describe it, drifted across her mind. Whether it was due to sleepiness or concern over recent events, she could not be certain.

Celestia closed her eyes and reached out with her divine light. In her mind’s eye, there was naught but darkness, and then there was a brilliant flash. Her totaled strength, well over a thousand chronicled years of learning and meditated growth, took the form of a single burning orb. It’s brilliance vanquished the shadows, pushing them back to the darker corners of her mind. It was a sun within an even greater sun, and its holy light revealed more than she anticipated. Within her mind, something shrunk back into the shadows as the light scorched the clutter that plagued her sleepy mind: a phantasmal shadow, a memory of darkness, slunk quietly away.

Celestia opened her eyes and turned around, examining the landscape before her. To the north lay the quiet town of Ponyville, and to the west her subjects raced to uncover the mystery behind the portal in the sky. She scanned all under her gaze, as not even the concealment offered by Luna’s sky was enough to shield what lay in front of her. The rain poured outside of the barrier given to the Princess. A scant few lights milled around town; a few ponies must have investigated the ruckus caused by the creature’s capture.

Nothing was out of place, yet she could not stop the prickling feeling crawling across the back of her neck. A nigh-indetectable tightness coursed through her bones, a readiness to attack or subdue anything that threatened her or her subjects. It was a readiness that would have gone unnoticed by anyone, but those loyal soldiers who stood in her present knew the Princess for years; some of them spent their whole life in the service to their country.

“Princess?” Lieutenant Stratus asked worriedly. He did not like to see the tightness to her eyes. He knew what it meant; danger was near.

Princess Celestia flared her wings, an unspoken signal to be prepared. Her Honor Guard fanned out in a ring around their liege, all looking into the night and skies for any signs of trouble. Cestia looked into her mind once more and fueled more of her strength and concentration into her internal flame. The shadows retreated further, but she detected no sign of the phantasm.

She could not shake that itch, that sneaking suspicion lurking in the darker corners of her mind. Not a single fragment of the landscape was out of place, right down to the last blade of grass. Out into the night, she extended her powers like a web, searching for any trouble. She could feel the burning lights that compromised the souls of her subjects. Further west, her filaments weaved through the base, searching for any sign of trouble. Everything appeared fine; everypony burned like a candle in the night. Everypony except...

She hesitated; there was something... blank in the base, as if it revealed only a reflection of light. That must have been the newly captured creature. She stretched her senses even further; deeper west, she could feel her sister shining like a sun and coming closer.

There was nothing hiding in the night. Hesitantly, she relaxed. “...It is nothing, my little ponies.” Celestia sighed. “I grow weary; alert me when Captain Aegis returns, and then prepare for departure. Tomorrow, we will enjoy the sunrise from within the walls of Canterlot. Let us discover what devilry reared its presence in my absence.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
Edited by: Wolfmaster, Maverick Frond, Material Defender

Chapter 19: The Gunpowder Plot

Chapter19: The Gunpowder Plot

“♫Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake.

Clap your hooves and do a little shake!♪”

Cadance and her filly charge giggled ridiculously as they flopped belly first onto the warm grass. “Come on, Twilight; let’s get some ice cream. I’ll buy.”

“Ice cream!?” Twilight inhaled. “Yes!”

Cadance could not help but laugh at the filly’s enthusiasm as she jumped for joy. They walked together down the gentle hill towards Cadance’s destination. The warm sun and cloudless day was perfect for a fun get-together, and the two had wasted no time to enjoy their morning. Several other children frollicked in the field with their respective guardians, but none were of any notice or interest to the pair; that was the benefit of the world of dreams. Neither noticed when the warm, sunny day had shifted into the bustling city Canterlot streets, all filled with faceless ponies dressed in their finest posh getup. Shining Armor had appeared on Cadance’s right, yet she did not mind. He had been talking to her, but she hadn’t paid attention.

“I’m sorry, Shining. What was that?”

“Dozing off, Mi Amore?” Shining chuckled merrily. “I’ve been accepted into the academy. I start next month, and I’m getting shipped off to Trottingham for basic training.”

“How’s little Twily taking the news?” Cadance asked, not noticing the absence of a hyper filly in her ephemeral dream.

At this question, Shining sighed in resignation. She could see he worry etched across his face and the the messy state of his usually pristine, groomed mane. “She doesn’t like it one bit. Ever since I told her, she’s locked herself up in her room with all her books. Everytime I try to comfort her, she grumbles and shuts the door in my face. Mom and dad say she just needs a little time, but when she’s ready to listen, I’ll probably be gone.”

Cadance’s kneejerk reaction was to nuzzle Shining affectionately. Shining squeaked in surprise, and blushed at his own girlish response. She could not help but laugh, both at Shining’s reaction and his words. “ Ha ha ha! Cheer up, Shining!” Shining looked away, uncomfortable. Cadance only meant to cheer Shining up with the display, but it had certain... unintended consequences. Her words became more serious. “Of all the fillies and colt’s I’ve foalsat, I’ve never met a foal who loved their siblings more than her. Every time, whether outside, or at some kind of part, or dress up, she always talks about you at least once, Shining. You would never hurt her, and even if you did, she would forgive you.”

Shining smiled warmly, oblivious to the fact that the road had shifted dusty stonework. Neither noticed the dream’s change, just like the first time. “I’ll see if I can come home early today. That way, I might be able to catch dinner for once and explain things to her.”

“Just write to her, Shining. She doesn’t want to lose her BBBFF. All of this talk about you going so far away scares her a little; she’s still a filly, after all. She’s not mad, but she certainly is afraid. If it’s all you can do, just write to her twice a week. Or even better, send her some candies or take a picture with that Scottish pegasus she likes. Donner McCloud, was it? Don’t say she shouldn’t worry because you’ll be back, teach her how to cope while you’re gone.”

Shining snorted. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve helped out my family a lot in the years.”

“You’re welcome, Shiny,” she teased.

He blushed at her pet name for him. Scrounging up his courage, he spoke, “Say – uh, Mi Amore – ”

He was cut off by Cadance chuckling. “For you Shining, call me Cadance.”

“...Cadance,” Shining winced as if Celestia would strike him down where he stood for saying her name. “Would you like to, um, get a cup of coffee or something?”

She giggled, “Sure, I have some time.”

Gone was the hustle and bustle of the city streets. The shops had vanished, the people were absent, and all Cadance could hear was the rhythmic clopping of her own hooves in the dry, dusty, and very dark cave.

“Not again...” She shivered. Trapped in a lightless, unsanitary cave for over a month had left deep scars on the young princess, some of them not yet healed. She could feel those eyes - her eyes - staring at the back of her neck. She recalled the taunts, the tricks, the dangling offers of freedom and promises, and all the hurt she felt when she believed some of them. She would occasionally enter with under the guise of Shining Armor, just to wrench her moments of peace away from her. Another dream, another nightmare, yet the blessing of slumber did not come. The happiness of pleasant time were over, and the nightmares began once more.

“How is my fair little pony?” Cadance covered her eyes with her hooves as a green light illuminated the form of a lean stallion on the wall in front of her; Chrysalis had indeed come as Shining.

“Please... let me out...”

No response came. That was odd; Chrysalis never passed up an opportunity to torment.

“Princess...” Now that wasn’t Chrysalis’s voice; that she knew. Every intonation, every raspy syllable was burned into her mind. It wasn’t Shining’s either. While Chrysalis’s voice reminder her of those dark tunnels with her silky speech, Shining was deep and comforting, like a burning hearth in a winter afternoon.

“Princess...”

“Princess... you asked me to wake you up at this time, M’Lady.” Cadance groaned as Butterscotch gently rocked her out of sleep. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing you your favorite raspberry tea, M’Lady.”

That got her attention. Cadance yawned and rose, rubbing her eyes childishly. She found her reflection in the mirror across her room. “Wow, I look awful.” Her usually pristine coat and mane and become nothing but a disheveled mess and her eyes were bloodshot.

Butterscotch giggled lightly. “I’ll fetch a brush and start a bath, M’Lady.” Butterscotch walked to the dresser while Cadance took a hearty gulp of water from the pitcher on the nightstand, foregoing using a cup. After she whet her dry throat, she used her magic to pick up the tiny porcelain cup and sipped her ambrosia. Cadance mewled in pleasure, causing Butterscotch to giggle once more.

It was not long until steam started billowing from her private bathroom. Cadance gently hopped off the bed, fighting a momentary sense of vertigo, and walked across the hoofstitched carpets and mahogany floors and into the bathroom with a waiting Butterscotch.

The room looked like it was cut from a single, solid piece of white marble; the floors, walls, and generously large bath tub were all fitted together seamlessly. It truly was a masterwork piece of craftsmanship. The bath stood invitingly, Butterscotch at its side next to a tray full of soaps and shampoos. Without a word, Cadance slipped into the tub, sighing as the warmth covered her like a blanket. The calming scent of lavender permeated the air, lulling her body and relaxing some of the aches gained from a night’s sleep.

Butterscotch started the usual routine of lathering up her hooves to wash Cadance’s hair. After rinsing, she proceeded to scrub her coat of any accumulated grime. As clean as Canterlot castle was, her coat always required a daily cleaning to remove dust and sweat.

Butterscotch was familiar with the routine enough to be finished in no time. Cadance collected a towel and dried herself off while Butterscotch ran a brush through her mane, removing the kinks and knots garnered over a rough night’s sleep. She waited patiently for her hoofmaiden’s work to complete; she had a long day ahead.

“When is Princess Celestia’s speech scheduled?”

“In two hour’s time, M’Lady,” Butterscotch responded.

Butterscotch was finished in short order, but she was not presentable just yet. She was scheduled to be in court with Celestia soon, so she picked a fine, silken dress with gold lining across the hems. Cadance always liked the appearance of stitched scrollwork, and this one was designed with scrolls around the neck and ankles.

“Let’s not keep the princess waiting, Butterscotch.”

“Yes, M’Lady.” The filly flattened her own dress and followed in step behind Cadance. Taking a moment to fluffen her amber mane, the pair opened the double doors and walked down the hall.

Canterlot Castle was vast and broad, constructed to house the largest of creatures short of full grown dragons. The stone floors were lined covered in rich red carpets adorned with gold trimming. Murals and tapestries depicting famous events or the imaginings of artistic minds adorned the walls. The one outside her wall was an intricate mural of Starswirl the Bearded, dressed in his signature hat and robe, leading several children into a deciduous forest clad in nothing but black leaves. The plaque below it said:

Starswirl the Bearded and

the Germaneigh Black Forest

A reproduction by A. C. Easel

Cadance liked to admire the tapestries and murals, but she had enough to do that morning. Celestia had returned in the night along with major Stormcloud. After Shining gave her his report, she immediately dispatched the major with all haste to collect Celestia and return her home. They two of them had several reports to listen to, along with each other’s on their own respective experiences. And then there was Celestia’s speech looming ahead.

The throne room was lined with guards and servants. Butterscotch took her place in their ranks, her black and white maid dress blending in with a line of others. Celestia was at her place, waiting for Cadance’s arrival. Despite the day and certainly long night, Celestia looked as refreshed as ever. Her aunt always did have the tendency to bottle up her problems and worries, but it was not the time to discuss such things.

Cadance took her seat on Celestia’s right. Normally, Luna would be on her left, but current events prevented that. “I wished for Shining Armor to be here, but he was weary from a long night. How do you fare, Cadance?” Celestia asked.

Normally, Celestia would not be so informal with her niece, but at the center of the room as they were, nopony was close enough to catch their whispered conversation. “A rough night’s sleep, is all. Events have been trying, to say the least.”

Celestia kept her face smooth, but Cadance could see the subtle softening of lines on her face. It was a look of understanding and concern, and not the first given since the debacle started. “Dusk and dawn, sunrise and sunset. Times are not pleasant, but this too shall pass.”

Cadance nodded. That was, unfortunately, all the time granted to the pair. Despite being royalty, they were still susceptible to the whims of the masses, and pressing matters demanded their attention. The two rose to their full height. “Send them in,” Celestia ordered.

While Cadance entered through one of the side doors, the throne room’s main doors were a pair of broad, oaken double doors adorned with gemstone starbursts. A pair of guards opened the door, and a small stream of ponies stepped forth: a unicorn adorned in the black cloak and crest of the Council of Magic, a clerk with a ruffled coat and glasses messily played across her face, a grizzled gray pony with a snow-white mane bearing the rank of lieutenant general on his helmet, and Major Stormcloud.

The Magi approached while the remainder halted near the guards. As it was customary, only one petitioner or report may be presented at a time. The Magi bowed deeply to the princesses. “Silver Streams, Magi of the Council of Magic, Third Class.”

“Rise,” Celestia ordered. He did so, waiting for the next command to be given. “What have you to report?”

“I bring a report involving the attack on Canterlot walls last night, Your Highness. At 20:33, the Royal Guardponies manning the battlements investigated a disturbance outside the Canterlot walls. Their investigation did not produce results, but they did discover some type of creature shortly before the explosion that damaged the walls. One of the ponies involved in the search was skilled in artistry and produced this rough sketch of the beast.” Silver pulled a lightly crumpled piece of parchment out of his saddlebags and offered it to the princesses. Celestia seized the drawing with her magic and brought it to the two of them.

“What manner of creature is this?” Cadance asked.

“Unknown, princess. It does not correspond to any known creature or feasible mutation that we are aware of. Research is still pending, and we are searching through old legends as well in the hope to gain some insight as to this creature’s behavior and modus operandi,” Cadance nodded, conveying she was done with questions. Silver looked up to Celestia, whose face was artfully blank. It was the calm poker face she had been renowned for using under even the most stressful of times. She returned the parchment and nodded for Silver to continue.

“The creatures physical appearance made it blend in with the gardens outside quite well, but it was soon discovered. Upon being cornered, the monster detonated, killing itself in a small explosion that wounded several Royal Guardponies. There were no fatalities, but two ponies are still in intensive care. Sergeant Stone, the pony in charge of the search, helped evacuate his squad while also under serious injury. However, I spoke with the doctors on staff; they believe the injured should make a recovery, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

Cadance sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Stone shall be commended for his valor under duress and injury.”

Silver continued, “As is customary for any new threat such as this, the Council of Magic lead the initial forensics investigation. No traces of the creature or any recognizable forms of genetic material were found at the blast site, although there was a generous residue of gunpowder. However, the monster, if the reports are accurate, did not carry any sort of pack or device that could conceivably utilize or conceal such a compound.”

“Are there any hypotheses as to how gunpowder was found at the scene?” Celestia asked.

“None that we can prove, Highness.”

“And of those you cannot?”

For the first time, Silver seemed uncomfortable giving his report. He shuffled from side to side nervously. “The only conceivable means of doing so - that I can believe - is that the creature had some sort of remotely detonated explosive lodged in its body triggered by a very specific magical harmonic.” Silver shifted again, avoiding Celestia’s and Cadance’s eyes. “Which means... the creature’s only reliable means of defense was detonating a suicide bomb.”

‘Who could do such a monstrous thing?’ Cadance thought, but Silver continued.

“That would explain how the monster carried combustible materials, but not its behavior. Sergeant Stone reported the creature did not make any attempt at communication before detonation. If the creature was forced to bear the explosive, it would have likely made some sort of communication as to who sent it. Being as that was not the case, I am forced to assume the creature was a willing participant in its suicide.” Silver shuddered at the conclusion. Suicides were a rarity in of itself, even more so than murder. It was not unnatural for ponies to suffer from depression, but that was part of the reason Equestria had a universal health care in place to cover physical and mental distress.

But the fact that a creature would be so twisted as to take its own life in the process of harming others was more than just a crime, it was an abomination of rational thought and problem solving. “Are there any clues as to the creature’s motive or accomplices, if any?” Cadance asked.

“None, Highness. Given the recentness of this attack, there is little data to be had. Thus, I conclude my report.”

“Very well, Magi,” Celestia said. “You are dismissed.”

Silver nodded and turned on his hooves. The Guards opened the doors, shutting them with a resounding thud. The seemingly disheveled clerk was the next to step forward. “Blank Note, clerk in service to the crown, Highness.” Neither Cadance nor Celestia responded, so Blank continued. “In the night, we received a missive via dragonfire stamped by the Griffon Emperor and the Academy of Science. Emperor Talos issued a formal request for Equestria to open its borders and allow a task force to study the portal alongside the Council of Magic. I am paraphrasing here, but he claims that the existence of two portals possibly capable of interdimensional travel is not something Equestria can handle on its own. He proposes a joint effort between kingdoms in order to better understand how they function.”

Celestia couldn’t help but chuckle. She leaned in close to Cadance and whispered, “It appears we have an information leak; I have not revealed the second portal to him just yet.” Cadance also chuckled; it was by no means a laughing matter, but the notion of a griffon spy seemed so trivial in lieu of recent events.

“Draft a reply to Emperor Talos. We shall set a date and time to discuss the terms of a joint effort. Dismissed.” Silver bowed and exited through the large double doors. Although the general was next in line, it was Stormcloud that stepped forward.

“Major Stormcloud, Royal Guardpony in service to the crown, Your Highness.” Stormcloud bowed deeply.

“Report.”

Stormcloud stood tall, hooves firmly planted. Celestia already knew much of what he was about to say, but Cadance did not. “Last night at approximately 21:55, Head of the Pegasus Corps, Captain Barricade, encountered and captured one of the beings that exited the obsidian portal. He is currently safely contained off site and has been relatively cooperative for the duration of his custody.”

Cadance sighed in relief, lifting a great, unseen weight that had settled in the back of her mind for some time. “That is a relief. Has this creature revealed any further information?”

“Scant little, Your Highness; the creature does not understand our language, so communication has been difficult at best. We have been, however, able to further confirm the existence of the second creature.”

It was at that time the whole court hushed. A flash of smoke and light snaked its way through the windows straight to Celestia. Nopony moved, for all recognized the signs of a message delivered by dragonfire. The particles coalesced and solidified to dried parchment, of which Celestia snatched with her magic. The message was short, but Cadance recognized the signs of surprise crossing her aunt’s face. Nevertheless, she rolled up the piece of parchment and set it aside, her face returned to its perfect smoothness.

“Please continue,” Celestia said.

“Unfortunately, the next stage of my report contains sensitive information unfit for civilian ears. I request privacy, if you so will it.”

That was strange. Stormcloud had not hinted or explained such details during the return trip to Celestia. She furrowed her brow, trying to think of what could be so important as to require such privacy. “Granted. Leave us.” Some ponies, especially the servants and hoofmaidens were miffed at the prospect of missing a potentially juicy morsel of gossip, but a stern look from both princesses shushed any grumbling they had planned. In an organized stream, they filtered out through the double doors in silence, save for the rhythmic echoes of their hooves on the carpet and stonework. The doors shut with another reverberating thud and the two unicorn guards’ horns were soon alight with magic. It was a simple Sound Silence enchantment used to seal rooms against prying ears.

The only ponies that remained were those guarding the chamber and the lieutenant general standing immobile in the back. “Speak, major; we are safe from prying eyes and ears.”

Stormcloud nodded. His expression was grave, and Cadance knew from the hard lines across his face she would most certainly not enjoy what she was about to hear. “There was an... incident before the creature’s capture. While the exact details remain unknown, Captain Barricade and I have been able to deduce some key facts.

“Captain Barricade made the capture in her issued armor, but was wearing a rain cloak over it. The creature did not react adversely to her, but when I entered its presence, it reacted suddenly and violently. It brandished a weapon and huddled in a corner, as if terrified I would attack at any moment. Due to Captain Barricade’s cloak, he could not see her armor, so he did not react to her. We came to the conclusion that – ”

He was cut off by the general in the back, “We have a saboteur in our midst.”

It was the wedding all over again. A scheduled event, almost routine in its regularity within Canterlot, was nearly destroyed by the will of a single individual. Cadance could almost feel those eyes watching her again as she struggled in the confines of the abandon mines.

“We know not who met with the creature or when,” Stormcloud continued, “and the Night Guards on duty that can reach this conclusion were sworn to secrecy on this matter. Captain Barricade hopes to find a time and place in hopes of discovering who has been lying to us. I know not the context of this creature’s meeting with the saboteur, but it terrified him so bad the mere presence of a Royal Guardpony sends him into a scared fit.”

Celestia was immobile for the entire time, choosing only then to speak her mind. “What you speak of bears many similarities to what my student concludes.” Celestia brought the letter up to her once more and read the contents to those present. If bells could speak, it would be the voice of the Princess.

“Dear Princess Celestia,

I have been conducting some independent research with my friends on the escaped creatures and the portals. I’ve concluded that the biped has remarkable transmutation abilities that surpass even the most skilled unicorn. Not even I can reproduce what I’ve seen.

Analyzing incident reports involving past behavior, I have also been able to conclude that the two creatures are either ambivalent or apathetic towards each other. The Farlander displays a high evasive and stealth quotient, yet did not assist the biped when the opportunities arose despite having the means to do so. I have heard just recently that the biped was captured by a single Royal Guardpony, and it did not help. It does not make sense to conclude that they were friends.

However, I have been able to hypothesize one more fact, although I have no evidence to prove my claim. Both creatures leave a distinct mark on the environment whenever they use their abilities. The obsidian portal does not contain any such magical traces, or any traces for that matter. I surmise that the gateway was constructed by a third party, and one at least partially familiar to the two creatures.

Your faithful student,

Twilight Sparkle”

“Who is the pony behind the pony?” Stormcloud chuckled sardonically. “Any opinions, Tempest?”

“We are being played by a skilled chessmaster,” General Tempest replied. “but an arrogant one.”

“General?” Cadance asked questioningly.

“If this unseen stranger had the capability of conjuring this portal, why not dispel it and prevent us from learning this information? Hubris. This cur believes to be our better, and is letting their pride cloud their judgement.” Tempest had been stoic for the duration of his stay, but a smile had inched its way across his lips. “That gives us the advantage. Assuming Ms. Sparkle’s guess rings true, then these two creatures have a larger part to play than we realize. It is just a matter of discovering what that is before the coup de’gras.”

“This information does not leave this room. Is that understood?” Celestia commanded. Her voice bounced off the interior walls, creating the effect she was speaking everywhere and nowhere. “I wish for the focus of research to be on this captured creature and what he may know. Send a message to Captain Barricade and Count Hexxus Incantus; they shall have any resources they desire.”

The Royal Guardponies lining the walls, in addition to Tempest and Stormcloud, stood at attention and saluted. “Yes, Your Highness!”

Cadance could see the worry and age across Celestia’s face as they walked together. Despite her experience and familiarity dealing threats to national security and public well-being, the weight of danger and the responsibility thrust upon her never grew any lighter. The power that comes hand-in-hand with ruling induces a security and sense worth, but there was always that sneaking doubt in the back of Cadance’s mind, that sense of terror if she ever failed those that were under her rule. When confronted with those doubts, cadance always remembered the happier time: a dancing filly rolling in the grass, her first kiss with Shining Armor, and the most recent, her marvelous wedding to the pony of her dreams.

But what did aunty Celestia do when burdened by that weight? Equestria had not even contemplated the thought of elections or successive rule, so what would Celestia do when ruling could not sate her? Cadance could not shake the thought. “Aunty?”

Such familiar terms of endearment would be frowned upon in normal company, but the pair were alone on their path to the balcony overseeing Canterlot Square; Celestia’s speech was upon them all. Nevertheless, Celestia smiled and replied, the age gone form her face, “Yes, Cadance?”

“Have you ever...” Cadance trialed off. It was not a topic she had ever thought about and it seemed too personal upon closer inspection.

“Speak your mind, Cadance; I will hear you out.”

“Have you ever thought about... leaving the throne? Doing something else other than ruling Equestria?” She blurted out that last sentence in a rush. Celestia smiled amusedly.

“Not thinking about deposing me, are you?”

Cadance squeaked. “No! Of course not – ”

Celestia laughter was like the chorus of a thousand singing angels. The sound echoed in the wide, stone walls, giving the impression she was not alone in her jubilance. “Ha ha ha! I only tease, Cadance.” Celestia’s laughter died to a light chuckle. The air seemed to chill in the absence of her mirth. “Never, Cadance. Do I sometimes doubt myself? Yes. I see the pain and suffering others cause my subjects and I feel it like a thousand steely claws ripping into my heart. Am I not strong enough to remove their pain? Why do they suffer while I languish in these stone walls?”

Nopony currently occupied the section of Canterlot castle they currently traversed. The barren feel coupled with Celestia’s own words gave her words a quiet - almost sage-like - vibe. “But then I remember the happy times as that accompany those unfortunate events. For every banishment, there is a glorious and remarkable rebirth. Every tribulation can carry a victory. I cannot fix all of this world’s ills, but that does not stop me from trying. I receive no greater sense of joy and pride than seeing my subjects bloom like lilies in the morning sun. That is why I continue.”

The exact strength and constitution of the alicorn bloodline was known to precious few, but the mental strength was even less so. It was a heavy burden to age without limit. The ill compounds just as equally as the good and it can become easy for a mind to become overburdened with the weight of time. After all the tribulation, after all that time, Celestia still had the strength to rule.

Cadance smiled.

The two stepped through the doors into a lavish room, but the contents were of no significance to them. The balcony on the far side of the room beckoned like a siren’s call.

The air was crisp and cool with the scents of water on the farthest winds. Off to the south lay naught but a mass of black storm clouds smothering the skies along the mountains to the south. Such ominous conditions did not sway the mass of ponies before them. Large enough to contain half of a hoofball field, the square was packed with ponies eager to hear the status of the threat, straight from their ruler herself. Small talk began to die as the crowd slowly recognized the presence of the ones they’ve been waiting for.

Celestia splayed her wings, silencing the remaining chatter filtering through the crowds. She waited a moment, collecting her thoughts for the impending speech. She nodded, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

“Citizens of Canterlot, Equestria, and beyond, I stand before you on the eve of something grand and mystifying. As many of you know, just over two days ago, a hamlet to the south was the destination of two creatures from another world.” That line brought a rustle of chatter and movement that quickly died as soon as it began. “Equestria is host to two creatures, both lost, alone, and scared of their new surroundings.”

A slight wind blew through the square, ruffling baggage and clothing in its path. It did not so much as alter the shifting of her ethereal mane. The dead silence coupled with Celestia’s chiming voice gave the speech the feel of a dirge from ages long passed. “You may also know that one of my subjects has been attacked by one of these creatures.” Another ripple of agitation passed through the crowd, this one much more heated. “However, I do not fault the creature for his actions.”

That brought even more fuss through the crowd, this time open disapproval of hushed disagreement and shaking heads. “I understand that there are those who would not deem these actions acceptable even in the most dire circumstances, but these are not normal by any means. Two creatures, lost and so far away from home, would no doubt panic upon seeing a strange and unfamiliar land. By no means, does attacking another life form an acceptable course of action. I do not condone it and the creature will answer for his actions, but I do understand. I ask no more of you all than that.

“These creatures are afraid, and I understand if you share those feelings in turn. Tensions are high, as are tempers, but I beseech you all to be the better pony. Do not allow such negativity to cloud your judgement, for you would be not better than those you perceive a threat. I freely admit I know little of these creature’s nature, but I will greet them as equals, not enemies.

“One of these creatures made the brave first step of trusting us. He has freely surrendered himself to our custody.” Muffled gaps and shocked surprise streaked across the mass in an explosion of noise and movement. Couples, some dressed in their finest to impress those in the crowd, quietly chatted with companions and spouses alike. The very idea that a violent creature surrendered itself soon afterwards was a piece of gossip to chew on for some time. Some bickered with their neighbors: why should such a creature be trusted, and an alien no less? Others countered with what they were given: he had surrendered. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to establish mutual trust.

Little could be discussed, for the princess held up a hoof to call for silence once more. The chatter died to a dull mumble, and Celestia’s heavenly voice graced their presence once more. “In the sad times, and bad times, it is easy to be consumed by fear and doubt. I am uncertain of these creature’s culture and behavior, but there is no better means of discovering than asking. When confronted, I will freely offer each creature a hoof of friendship and trust. Approach the unknown will integrity and honesty, not superstition and fear.

“Fate may decide that our choice – my choice – may prove futile. Our suspicions may very well be confirmed, our trust – betrayed, our hopes – dashed. These creatures may be every bit as hostile as the most foul beasts in Tartarus, but that is the price to pay for offering an olive branch.

“I hope to gain this creature’s trust and help in discovering why our beloved city was attacked. I know not what assaulted the city walls, so I hope this creature may reveal that information to us. I will not tolerate such attacks on my subjects.” A burst of thunder echoed from the south, only emphasizing Celestia’s declaration. Her face had hardened in the light of the morning sun, bringing forth hard line previously unseen. Cadance couldn’t help but shiver. “The Council of Magic and Royal Guard is working around the clock to unravel this mystery. I have the utmost faith in their abilities and strength of character.

“We are in the dark. Let the fires of hope light our way. I know these are trying times, for us as well as that poor soul who made such a courageous risk in surrendering. I am asking you to give him a chance.”

The crowd was silent save for the whispered conversations and contemplations of those pondering what had been said. Similar words followed Cadance’s wedding after the expulsion of the changelings horde. An olive branch, a gift of peace; Cadance only hoped it was enough. The two alicorns retreated back into the tower, waiting on a letter from Luna to discover her results.

Two Night Guards, Private First Class Broodwing and Azazel, galloped down the stone pathway. Their shifts were nearly over, but they had gotten lost in the vast caverns below the Everfree Forest and southern plains. Their shifts had been most uneventful other than the occasional old sign of Diamond Dog trails.

Most of the cave systems were wide and dark, perfect places for the Night Guard and their 20/20 dark vision. The cave they current traversed, however, was too cramped for sustained flight, especially for two full grown stallions decked out in their armor. They were soon scheduled to return to the garrison with their unit, but the complex cave system threw the pair for a loop. Now it was a race against time to return and not get their flanks chewed out by their NCO.

Broodwing, being much leaner and stronger than Azazel, had kept their brisk pace much easier than his wingpony. Hearing Azazel breathing heavily right on his heels, he called over his shoulder, “Get that flank moving, Azazel! We’re already late! If I’d known you liked dark, moist places this much, I would have left you down here.”

“I like your mom’s dark, moist places,” he huffed.

“Ha ha, and my horse shoe is going so far up your ass, you’ll be spitting iron.” Both stallions sniggered at their crude yet friendly banter. The pair turned a corner to a much larger tunnel, skidding across the dusty floor as their hooves fought to retain traction with their momentum. The air was indeed moist, and wrought with the smell of dust and stagnant air.

“Well excuse me for not having as much stamina as you, Mr. Top-marks-in PT-and-drill-sergeant-brown-noser,” Azazel retorted.

“It’s what you get for not growing up in the rich jackass part of Fillydelphia.” Azazel snorted in amusement and accidentally inhaled a hearty dose of cave funk. Soon enough, the tunnel widened enough for the pair to obtain sustained flight. The pair made a sharp right –

“Oh, fuck.” Broodwing breathed as quietly as possible. They had rounded a bend into one of the branching tunnels that lead to the Farlander portal. The only problem was something freakishly tall was blocking their path. Before Azazel could react to Broodwing or what he saw, Broodwing yanked him and himself behind a rocky outcropping on the far side of the tunnel. Azazel was about to protest, but Broodwing shoved a hoof into his mouth. “Shhhhh...” he whispered and removed his hoof.

BAMF!

Broodwing listened carefully for any further sounds. The air had suddenly imploded in front of them, but the cave was otherwise silent. “What did you see?” Azazel whispered.

“Don’t know...” he whispered back. “It was black and as big as two-story flat. That’s all I got.”

“Do you know an alternate route?”

“No, you?”

“Why the hell would I be asking you if I did?”

“Shut it, let’s think for a moment...” Broodwing scratched his chin in thought. “Forward is our only way back, but that thing is in our way.” Broodwing, slowly and very carefully, peeked over the boulder. Azazel did not look, but say Broodwing sigh in relief. “Whatever it is, it’s gone now.”

“I’m pretty sure it heard you after you said ‘fuck’ and ran off, but what was that noise?”

“No idea. Come on, we gotta go and report this at least; that didn’t look like any monster the reports said would be in these tunnels.” The pair started running down the tunnel at a good clip before gaining enough speed for flight. Their eyes were wary and muscles tight, carefully observing what was ahead of them for any sign of trouble or danger.

“Do you think it’s one of the monsters that exited one of those portal?” Azazel asked.

“Hell if I know. I was nursing a hangover when I read the file, but I think that thing was too tall to be the one the princess fought. It could be the other, but nopony knows what that one looks like.” Broodwing entered the portal chamber and banked right to meet up with their NCO, flying over a Night Guard scheduled to monitor the tunnel they exited. The chamber was illuminated by several glowing magical spheres for the Magi who ventured that far down for research. Several desks, alchemical stands, and other occult equipment lined the walls. There were a total of five tunnels branching from the chamber, each one guarded by a single Night Guard.

Broodwing continued flying down the tunnel, but Azazel stopped, folded his wings, and landed. “You’ve been here this whole time, right?” he asked one of the sentinel Night Guards.

“Yeah, what of it?” Broodwing, noticing his wingpony was missing, flew back down the tunnel to discover why he halted, passing over a Night Guard’s head.

“Azazel, I swear to Celestia if you make us late – ”

“Broodwing...”

“I will coat your armor to shit with itching powder, watch you squirm as it takes effect – ”

“Broodwing, look – ”

“–stomp on your nuts, and then laugh my ass off.”

“Broodwing!”

“What!?”

Azazel did not immediately respond to Broodwing and asked the Night Guard patrols a question instead. “Nothing interesting’s happened yet? Have you seen a creature come down the tunnel right before us?”

“Not a peep. We all heard a weird noise noise, but nothing happened. Probably just some settling rock or a stray Diamond Dog nearby. Wouldn’t surprise me, those mongrel pups,” he spat.

“Oooooooh, crap,” Azazel swore. “So nothing came down the tunnels? Nothing at all? Not even ours?”

“Nothing.”

“Azazel, the hell you talkin’ about?” Broodwing asked, clearly disgruntled at the prospect of missing his scheduled departure.

Azazel spread his wings and took to the air. Following his example, Broodwing and the five Night Guards did the same. The Farlander portal, like the portal above Ponyville, hovered completely inert above the ground without any known means of supporting it. Azazel landed on one of the twelve blocks, which didn’t even twitch with his added weight. The others hovered in the air, expectantly, but Broodwing gasped; he discovered what Azazel was talking about.

“So if nothing came in or out of this room... and our friend that we saw in the tunnels did not exit the tunnel yet still managed to disappear...” Azazel looked down and nudged the sphere currently inset in one of the twelve blocks. As it was nearly the same color as the greenish stones, he nearly missed it as he passed, as Broodwing had. “How did this get here?”

A shudder ran through Broodwing and the Night Guards. Almost as if it were staring right back at them, a single gemstone in the shape of a dragon eye lay lodged in the brick.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Eye of Ender image: LINK
Creeper sketch: LINK
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Material Defender, Wolfmaster1337

Chapter 20: Hope

Chapter 20: Hope

I didn’t know what to do. For once in my life, I was completely and utterly lost. Back in the Overworld, all I needed to do was build and survive. The world was mine and I crafted and rearranged it to align to my image of beauty and creativity. As the silence pervaded the lands and oceans, my next objective, be it a building or a machine, would come to fruition as I would plan and mine. Though difficulties arose and blocked my way, I would persevere. No monster could stop me, no landmass could slow me, no darkness could misdirect me.

I was so very lost in the new world. This land was not mine to command. I was an invader, a blight upon the earth. For once, I did not know what to do.

These creatures fought with courage and tenacity to rival my own. When I heard the stirrings of the dying day in the Overworld, I had a blade in hand and a stout heart. Though shadows lengthened, my heart did not go astray until the first lights of dawn. I fought the monsters to protect myself and my precious creations. The buildings and constructs I had poured my heart and soul into were extensions of myself that I could not bear to see harmed. The hiss of a creeper, the gurgle of zombies, I feared not the night but what it heralded. I was not afraid of the dark, but I knew it is the harbinger of something terrible.

I wondered if these creatures that surrounded me with scared and worried eyes viewed me in the same manner as I see the creatures of the Overworld. I saw a town not once, but twice, built by hands most certainly not my own. Its interiors and borders were protected with a furiosity inherent to what I would expect one to protect heart and home with. Juggernaut had left my presence, but I saw same spirit in her eyes whenever we met. I did not belong. This was not my home.

Home... I missed home.

I could not help but sigh in fatigue and exasperation. Darkness and questions clouded my mind; it tired me to no end. I could not help but take out my journal and start chronicling my experiences once again. A horned creatures that replaced its weary predecessor eyed my book with a hungry look, but made no moves other than its overt curiosity. I knew not why, especially because its reaction did not resemble my guard’s reactions by any means.

Was I really so grave a threat to these creatures? My only moves against them was an attack on Lierah out of fear, regrettable as that was, and defending myself against Soldier and Juggernaut. I could perceive the mistaken intent with Lierah’s attack as malicious instead of an act of defense. That could be possible.

These creatures, other than the curious one, glared at me as if I were a creeper ready to blow. I saw tense muscles, hard eyes, unblinking stares. All of them were still, ready to pounce with the slightest wrong move on my part. They were not the only ones jumpy; I – too – was nervous around my guards. I did nothing to give them justifiable cause for their fears. All I did was sit down and write. The more I wrote, the more I thought, and I really needed to think. I had never been so ensnared in my entire life. I felt like I was stranded on a platform in the middle of a sea of lava with no way to escape. I felt the undeniable urge to run, but I had nowhere to run to. I could use the Ender Pearl or the potion, but those two items were my only trump cards. I could not use them. Not yet. Not until the last, possible moment.

I sighed again, sinking my head into my palms. I could see the horned one through the gaps in my fingers, still staring at me. I didn’t like that one anymore; it made me uncomfortable. Its gaze reminded me of my curious fascination that I gave redstone when I first discovered it. ‘What was it? What could it do?’ I felt like some experiment under its eyes.

I could feel the familiar burst of power and flash of material down my arm. The comforting and familiar weight of a sword weigh in my grasp, causing each and every being in the tent to shift uncomfortably. I knew I was trapped, but I could not help but feel a perverse pleasure that my mere presence or the thought of violence on my part gave them cause to fear me. By no means would I win in a scuffle with over a dozen of these creatures. Yes, it was likely I could wound or even kill some of them, but I would fall given a little time. I did not want to die. I have nothing to live for here, but I did not want to die. That impulse is buried in me so deep it has become second nature in every situation. Does the other side of a stone wall contain the bubbling heat of magma? I have a bucket on hand to combat that. Does a darkened cave contain legions of monsters? I have an escape route planned for such an occasion.

I did not want to die. I fought death with every iota of strength and wiles I could muster. That instinct of self preservation was buried deep, it talons yanked on the darkest depths of my soul. I wondered why I fight so hard? All I do is build.

Upon that thought, my sword shifted into that of my familiar pickaxe. Such a simple compound tool of wood and diamond was above all my most precious tool other than the sword. With it, I consume and recreate the vast resources of a limitless world into any construct I can fathom. Only the very bottom of the world is immune to my power. The bedrock is the very foundation of the Overworld and Nether; what secrets lie beyond the eternal darkness of the Void Fog? I’ve dropped items into the only hole I’ve managed to find in the bedrock in a vain attempt to discover what lies in the darkest depths. My tests to date have produced no results. Even pouring a bucket of water into the shadowy depths does not produce results or an identifiable bottom. More than once I’ve contemplated jumping into that hole and discover what mysteries lurk in the dark, but that instinct to preserve my monotonous life reared its head and I obeyed.

The sword and the pick. My trusted friends.

At that moment, I looked at my pick in a whole new light. I could just dig straight down to this world’s bedrock, covering up my descent as I go. I had not seen these creatures display any abilities similar to mine. It was possible then. It was a hope. A mad hope, but it was there like a torch pushing back the tendrils of night.

I could just dig straight down. I hadn’t thought about such a tactic in my fight with Juggernaut - Barrakade, as she called herself - due to my weakened state and her vigilance in my capture; it simply was not an option I could do without her instant and vicious counterattacks. I was close to death and the same options shot through my head. Do I use the potion or the Pearl? I could not, and the realization was cerebral. Using the Potion of Swiftness would kill me through sheer exhaustion alone. I was wounded enough that simply using the Ender Pearl would injure me enough that I could not further escape if it did not kill me in the process.

When I awoke from unconsciousness, Juggernaut was waiting for me. Not attacking, waiting. I was thrown off guard by the sudden realization. I was not attacked with the intended result to die, I was attacked so I could be captured. It was absurd. I was stunned into submission, not sure what to do. I had never hesitated attacking monsters. Ever. Of course, I may simply evade a monster if I do not need to fight, but if it my intent to attack, I do not yield until the deed is done or I am far too wounded to complete my intended task. Juggernaut could have killed me on her own with ease, and she did not.

I surrendered. Just like that, I surrendered. I feared death with a passion. If I knew without any semblance of doubt or uncertainty that Juggernaut was going to kill me, I would have fought with even further tenacity, but that was not her intent. I was to be captured, and I allowed it to happen out of self-preservation. By the Powers, what could she possibly want with me alive?

Until she escorted me to my current position, those thoughts pervaded my conscious like a pestilence. Even now, I do not know why I was left alive. It does not make any sense. I was an invader, and I was shown mercy for the second time. By the Powers, why!?

Every creature in the tent advanced a step; in a fit of anger, I had swung my pickaxe in an arc. My momentary rage and confusion cooled. It would not help me to force a confrontation, so I forced myself to take some deep breaths to calm my shaky nerves.

In...

Out...

In...

Out...

I set the pickaxe head on the soft earth, my hand tight around the shaft. I cannot understand these creature’s speech, but I expected they could recognize intent. I disarmed myself for them. I did not wish to provoke violence between myself and their kind. As I predicted, there was a noticeable relaxation of muscles and softening of glares. They did not trust me as far as they could throw me, but it was progress. Slowly, the creatures backed their hindquarters up against the walls of my impromptu cell. That other creature – Scholar, as I now call it – still stared at me with that curious shine in its eyes. I must have missed it leave, for a second creature had left and only just returned with a bucket of water. Scholar nudged the bucket towards me. What did it want me to do with it? Tricks?

I sighed once again, lifting my pick up for examination. The lights shined through the crystalline, scattering the meager light into a blast of hues. It was yet another feature of this world, but for once... I could not bring myself to care. Right in front of me was a marvelous sight, an event that would fill a library with my thoughts if I witnessed it in the Overworld. Each hue spoke of feelings and sensations I could not hope to ponder as of yet, but I could not embrace it through the looming sense of apathy that had taken root.

One of the creature’s seemed unnerved by my recent actions and sent one of their ranks out the tent flap. How I longed to follow and enter the night with its torrential rain and stupid moon. It was not meant to be, for I knew I would never be allowed outside in my state and with their concerns.

My pick fell to the ground with a thud before I blinked and hefted the pick once more. I knew it was only in my mind, but the pick felt heavier than usual. I switched to my sword and gave it a few practiced swings, ignoring the twitchy responses it produced in my wardens. The blade was perfectly balanced, exactly equal to the wooden handle. I had never overcompensated a swing, never felt the weight to be any more than an extension of myself. It was a part of me.

The pickaxe did not share that sentiment. It was cumbersome and topheavy, requiring a full-body effort in order to properly utilize the tool. It did not rend nearly as much damage as a sword and I could not deflect skeleton arrows with it. It was, in almost every aspect, an inferior tool. It’s only redeeming grace happened to be I could tunnel and mine resources. It is a wonderful tool, but hardly something special.

So why does the pick feel so natural in my grasp?

My internal clock claimed it has only been a little over two days since I was deposited in this room like a useless pile of gravel. Okay, that was unfair of me, but that does not change my opinion on my situation. Why was I just sitting in a room doing nothing? Surely, I was not there to keep such dour and serious faces company. These comrades of Juggernaut – Barrakade. I should start using her name – looked ready to kill.

Despite the unpleasantness, I could not help but admire their fortitude and stamina. It took every ounce of strength I could muster to sit on that cobblestone block without a fuss. It is in my blood to move and create, slay and harvest, mine and place. I cannot tolerate being sedentary. I could at least build a better cell, if that’s what they want. It would represent the cessation of my freedom, but at least I would stop being bored. I always think best when my hands are busy.

Winged things, let me build a better cell for you. It will only take two minutes.

I hoped they don’t make too much of a fuss if I do a little bit of work. Some is needed out of necessity rather than desire, however; I could feel my strength dwindling little by little. If I did not get something to eat soon, I would not last much longer. I still had those seeds. A little farm was in order.

I stood tall, stretching my limbs to their utmost limits. Bones and tendons cracked under the strain. A jerk to the left, and a few pops echoed and died within the tent. Next came the right, and a few of my captors winced at the sound.

Alright, time to get to work. I did not have a workbench on me, so creating one of them would be necessary. That wouldn’t be too hard. But first, I would require some water, and I know just where to get it. But first, I needed a proper farm.

I rubbed my hands together in preparation. My movements had stirred my guards out of their languor, piquing their curiosity and concern as to what I was up to. Well, they were about to discover that for themselves. I cracked the knuckles in my hands, producing another synchronized wince.

Quick as a flash, I thrust my closed fist into the dirt at me feet. Upon contact, the dirt shifted and buckled as if suddenly composed of liquid. It was not enough, so I punched the ground once again. That time, my target successfully lost cohesion and became naught but energy for me to absorb as I pleased. A singular gasp echoed through the tent.

I couldn’t help but stop for a moment. If they were surprised by my abilities, than I could conclude that none present had ever seen anything similar to what I do. That begged the question: how did they live in buildings if they didn’t craft them? Another mystery to unravel at a future point.

The silence that pervaded the tent had become an instant uproar. The creatures babbled to each other incessantly, not that I could understand them. I heard Barrakade’s name tossed about, and even that world Lierah used. Youkneecorn? I think that was it. Some creatures inched forward, but one of the leather-wings – the leader, I assumed – said something about Barrakade and their movements ceased. I felt the stirrings of a smile cross my lips; Barrakade intimidated more than me, apparently.

I missed my trusty workbench. It was not often I ventured without one, but recent events – raiding an unsuspecting town – necessitated me to travel as light as possible. It was a foolish mistake on my part, but I had the foresight to carry enough wood to create what I so desired. It took little effort to produce some wood and split it into planks. Four planks. With a single strike of my palm, a block of wood always produced four planks. It felt all too natural now, each step a dance I mastered long ago. Four planks, just enough to create a bench and continue my work.

Just as I set them down, a burst of winds flashed through the tent, followed soon by a shout. I could not stop my actions however. My hand was divine judgement, and I commanded my will be done. I felt the tug of magic draining from my own body and into the wood. It was an act of beauty, rearranging the natural order of the universe. Mass trembles, molecules rearrange and expand, and within the space of batting an eye, my creation stands proud. Nothing could have stopped me in the middle of my work. It was this strange compulsion of mine; whenever I set my sights on completing some objective, I did not dally; I simply performed it. I do not ponder on how to build a skyscraper that pierces the heavens, I simply do it.

How ironic; I ponder so much, but not on the things that I do best.

I knew the voice that tried to interupt me; how could I forget it? I turned around and saw exactly who I expected. Barrakade stood in the doorway next to a creature with a protrusion on its head. Barrakade stood tall and firm like some forgotten war god. I’m not sure why she appeared so angry, so I waved to hopefully cool her wrath. She ignore me and talked with her comrades, so I just returned to my work. I was hungry and in desperate need of food; as much as I respected or even feared her, the physical drain was a constant tug in my skull.

Wood into planks, planks into sticks; if I required farmland, I needed the proper tools. I could always beat a zombie to ashes with a fish, but I could not use it to till soil.

I should put that on a wall.

I admit, I was still nervous about the quadrupeds. I did not want to get attacked, especially by Barrakade. Using a few precious seconds, I took a moment to scan the room. The creatures surrounding me were all glaring at me, but their posture was controlled and still. Some of them glanced to Barrakade, eyes questioning.

Interesting... A hierarchical command structure? Was the glorious Sovereign ranked even higher on the chain of command then? What of Scholar? Soldier? Lierah?

Those were questions fit for another time. Two sticks, two stone cubes: the recipe for a normal garden hoe. Of course, I had diamonds stored within my very soul, but I did not wish to use such precious resources just yet. Diamond is stronger than stone, but stone would suit my needs at the moment. There was no need to squander, despite diamonds being plentiful in this strange place. Old habits die hard; I am wary of the shadows and conserve resources as if they are the last of their kind.

I danced the steps again, the motions a part of my very being by that point. I cannibalized my seat, but I could always get another. I could use simple dirt if I so wished. As I performed the motions – jamming a pair of sticks into the cobblestone – I contemplated darker thoughts. I have the power of creation in the palm of my hand. Why do I fear these creatures so? These creatures have brute strength and skill, wiles to rival even the cleverest creeper, and flight that can match the ghastly ghasts that haunt the Nether with their tormented cries.

I had power they did not. I could rip this world asunder beneath their feet. I could flood the streets with boiling magma and shield myself in a dome of solid diamond. I could make a tower and flood the lands with water.

I quietly banished those thoughts. I was not that kind of person. Despite my capture – unwilling as it was – I would not dare mistreat these creatures. Despite our misunderstandings, despite my own imprisonment, I was eager for emotional contact. Every time I encountered the Endermen, I gave them their due respect despite their hostile impulses. We have never interacted or spoken to each other...

Well... that’s not true. We have spoken. Or I should say I have spoken to them. How long ago was that? How many ages past? How many days? Over how many deserts, mountains, and oceans was that? My fateful meeting with the Endermen. I could never forget it; it was the last time I ever spoke.

Again, I shook off those thoughts. It was not the appropriate time to contemplate such bad times from my chronicled past. It was time to grow some food. I could feel my strength slowly slipping away like some phantasmal current. I dragged my hoe across the moist ground, but something didn’t feel right. The familiar drain of energy I feel from altering my environment was not present. Rough lines tore through the minute grassroots, but the absence of power from my own internal well did not come.

I cannot alter this world. I can mine its resources just like the Overworld, but I struggle with forcing my will against the matter here. I managed to absorb stone by the hundreds underground, but I had yet to try and force an indirect change.

I needed to absorb something for it to work. Interesting...

Clutching a fist, I thrust it into the ground adjacent to my hole, absorbed it, and quickly recast it back in its place. Scholar made a sound like a crying ocelot, but I gave up trying to understand Scholar since I first lay eyes upon it.

I tried it once again. As soon as my hoe touched the ground, I felt the subtle drain of power. I smiled and trailed the hoe across my tiny farm. I followed the same steps for each adjacent square for a total of four tilled spots of land. I only had four seeds, but it would do. If my theory was correct, I would have some fresh wheat in a day or two. However long my day is to these creatures, I had no idea. Several days should have passed already, but the darkness right outside the tent flap hid everything not illuminated by strange, glowing lights. So not only do the fundamental laws of nature work differently, but the days are far, far longer.

As are the nights. Oh no, I do not like that.

Suppressing an urge to shudder, I walk to the bucket they creatures brought inside. The creatures scuttled around me, afraid to come close or maintaining a careful distance away from my grasp. I could hear the thunderous downpour just outside the tent flap. I was briefly tempted to bolt for the door, but I would have to fight past Barrakade and Scholar to do so while simultaneously outrunning over a dozen guards. I still had the potion and Pearl. I could do it, but I was still far too weak to attempt an escape. Not yet. A little longer. I needed my strength.

I turned on my heels, absorbed the bucket to convert it to my needs, conjured it again, and set it down on the ground. My shirt had been plastered to my skin for some time due to rainwater. After wringing the offending liquid out, I half hazardly put it back on and poured my water to hydrate the soil. I reserved a seed for each one, and at long last, my work was complete. All I needed now was a little time.

I sighed happily and conjured my last remaining loaf of bread. I was starving and devoured the loaf in seconds. While I admit my table manners were not up to par, it was not enough to produce the utter silence purveying the tent. Even Barrakade was quiet. Her eyes were not surprised or angry but... pitiful.

Before I could contemplate her actions any further, another horned creature stumbled into the tent. Just like with Scholar, I could not tell the gender of this creature with its heavy, black robes. I assumed Barrakade was female due to her similarities to the smaller female I encountered when trying to enter town. I was proven correct when she only just entered; her teats on her underbelly proved that. I was curious as to why these creatures randomly decided to wear clothes and then take them off. Another curiosity, despite the bindings now surrounding Barrakade’s abdomen and hindquarters.

BAMF!

Oh, crap.

I darted to the nearest corner, nearly running over the guards in my haste. I know the sound of a teleporting Endermen anywhere. That implosion was the universal warning that I had done something very foolish and was going to die for it. I dropped my seeds in panic and conjured my sword. My tent was not the best circumstance for a fight, but it was better than the darkened shadows and never-ending rain outside. There was limited room to maneuver, so my back to the wall was the best way to combat an Enderman’s teleportation skills.

I stood there, sword ready and muscles tight. The tent was tall enough to contain their massive height. I stood for a few moments, waiting for the oncoming rush of magic darkness and horrible, soul-rending scream.

It was an event that never happened. I know that implosion noise as well as a creeper’s deadly hiss all too well. I heard a buzz of conversation from the quadrupeds, but I ignored them. I had bigger concerns... but where did that Enderman go? Why was I not dead? Why was I not attacked?

Barrakade’s hooves moved slightly across the dirt and grass. I knew she held only concern for my safety and actions in her eyes, but she had no idea the danger a single Enderman posed. The language barrier still firmly in place, I closed my fist and opened it to reflect the Enderman’s teleportation flash. Barrakade’s brow rose in confusion, said something, and shook her head. Irritated, I repeated the gesture.

I could see the winding gears in her skull, the struggle to understand words across species and lands. Thankfully, the newcomer seemed to have a better understanding of what I was trying to say than Barrakade. They bantered back and forth until Barrakade tugged on my shirt and pointed at the newcomer.

BAMF!

Damn it!

I couldn’t believe it. My conscious mind understood what had just transpired, but my reflexes and muscle memory overrode all rational thought. Thousands of years of training and conditioning roared through every synapse in my skull. Fear. Courage. Strength. Attack. Defend. Danger.

It took a few seconds for my battle fury to quell and my death grip to relax. I pointed at the teleporter and made the sign. Barrakade nodded yes.

By the ghast’s grisly cries, these creature’s could teleport. If my daily supply of fear hadn’t been expunged by that point, I would have run myself through with my own blade.

In some desperate attempt to retain my sanity and grasp on my situation, I pointed to Barrakade and repeated the gesture, but she shook her head.

Thank you, whatever deities there may be.

Language was one problem, but pictures were another. I may not have been able to convey an Enderman’s nature through speech even if I was willing to talk, but I could do so through pictures. I strode to my workbench, quickly creating a simple wooden sign to write on. My drawing skills were as awful as my memory, but they would suffice to get my point across.

Not dying is more important than learning to properly draw, after all.

I quickly had three creatures scratched across the wooden surface: myself, one of these creatures, and an Enderman. I pointed towards the quarupedal creature and gestured, and she responded by grabbing my quill and ink and drawing a horn on its head like Scholar and Lierah.

So... the horns had something to do with it. I don’t understand how that was a prerequisite, or even how Sovereign has such a protrusion and wings, but I filed that query away for later. I pointed at the Enderman and gestured the same teleportation sign once again.

I could see the horror plastered across her face before I was even finished. Yes, oh-kicker-of-my-ass, that is an Enderman. The blight of the night, the only sapient entities in the Overworld, the soul screamer. The Endermen.

Swords spoke louder than words and it was easy to convey the thought of the Enderman’s violence. Frustrating as it was, it was possible. Barrakade began to immediately issue commands to her underlings and one very particular creature. This one, like the newcomer and Scholar, had the same horned protrusion on its head. I didn’t know what such a thing did to give it the same powers as an Enderman, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I had enough problems.

Despite its possible powers, my eyes were drawn to its hindquarters. Plastered across its skin was a cylindrical object with a thin, long protrusion at one end. As I pondered the mark, my mind regressed back in time to my encounter with Lierah. She - too - had a mark on near her haunches.

I had not yet thought anything of such marks, but now that I did so under this creature’s watchful eyes, my mind began to wonder. I had seen only four different types of creatures as of yet. Most fell into the winged kind, but I saw more and more of the horned ones as time progressed. I had trouble differentiating these creatures from each other, but perhaps these marks could help?

I would have started firing arrows at random and completely indiscriminately when my guards moved next. Compelled by some obscure and unknown impulse, they moved in unison, each standing at attention and bringing a hoof to their brow. Such strange antics were unknown to me. Granted, I may have had some strange quirks of my own in their eyes. To each their own, I suppose. Their eyes were all drawn to the door. I felt the moist wind caress my back, cooling the water and sweat still clinging to my shirt. My shirt would never dry at that rate, but I really did not care about such things. Curiously, I turned around, wondering what could possibly produce such a strange custom.

My brain froze. Thinking back as I currently am writing this, I cannot possibly fathom what I was feeling at that exact moment. The moment turned around, my soul iced over in the bitter-cold grip of death. Gold armor, hard eyes. It had come back.

I had never moved so fast in my life unassisted by potions. I had not even contemplated retreat or attack; I was suddenly in the corner, huddling in fear with nothing but my blade shaking in my palms. That same undiluted, belligerent sense of trepidation harnessed every particle of rational thought and cognitive function and ordered a complete retreat.

I was my own man in the Overworld. In a sense, everything I did was the ultimate accomplishment. If only those creature’s knew the trials I endured every night and day. When the sun rose, I collected resources from the deepest depths of the land. I did such a task on my own, without help and with only the tools I created myself. At night, I braced myself and my home against legions of undead foes and monsters.

At the end of the day, at the beginning of the night, I could feel proud that any accomplishment, big or small, was mine and mine alone. Building a monument, or simply surviving to see the next dawn, I was content.

That was exactly what made seeing that creature again so terrible. I felt proud of my accomplishments, but seeing those eyes, I felt those warm feelings stipped away. I was cowering in fear in a corner, but my mind was back in those dark tunnels once again. Back in the cold. The dark. The black.

Alone.

Piece by piece, what made me who I am was stripped away. There was nothing more terrible or perverse than taking everything you know and turning it into a lie. I built myself on self preservation and sustainment, but I was in the palm of something far greater than myself, something so fetid and effluvial it disgusted me. I was stooped to nothing, a shell of myself, and I hated it.

There is nobody stronger than someone that can take their emotions and fears and lock them away. There is nothing more hateful than something that could unlock each and every one of those boxes for the world to see. I was a plaything of something great, and instead of flourishing, I was crushed under the weight of its soul.

There is nothing worse than becoming nothing.

Everything around me faded into oblivion. I no longer knew what my guards were doing, what Barrakade was planning, or the state of the two horned creatures. My absolute and undivided attention was on those steely eyes as they retreated out the tent. I did not move or blink in the slightest. I didn’t care about my guards. I didn’t care about Scholar and the horned one’s abilities. My thoughts were of some eldritch horror walking the realm of the living once again.

After a few moments of abysmal silence, my conscious mind overrode my instincts. Instincts were good, but I needed to act more than I needed to survive, if that made any sense. I regressed to my basic means of self defense: digging a hole and hiding.

I ignored my guard’s protests as I conjured my shovel and dug straight down into the earth. Rather than coming across the hard stone or some underground cavern, what I discovered was something far stranger. I knew better than to dig straight down; if I encountered something such as a deep cavern or a boiling pit of magma, no miraculous potion or enchanted armor would save me from the impending drop. I hated myself for making such an amateur mistake. I hated that thing on the surface for reducing me to such a sniveling, crying mess. I was humbled by fear, and I had nothing but the deepest loathing for that creature and myself blasting across the confines of my skull.

But the object that halted me was not some cavern or superheated pit of stone. If I could describe it, it was Nether energy if was given corporeal form and a white facelift. It was always faster to use tools to absorb materials; I could just better focus with them in addition to the material’s own strength. No matter how hard I punch stone, a diamond pickaxe will always be stronger than my own fists. Despite the strength of my own tools, I could not puncture or absorb the ethereal haze.

Out of desperation, I switched to the pick and hammered through the barrier with everything I could muster. Every strike sent ripples across its surface. If sound was made liquid, it would be that barrier, and it was endlessly irritating. Why couldn’t it just break!?

I heard Barrakade’s voice from up high, her impressive follicle lengths cascading down the hole I had dug. My hole was only a square meter in width, so she didn’t come down; there was barely enough room for me down there. She tapped the surface impatiently and backed away.

Not a chance. I was not going anywhere near the surface with that thing still up there. If I could not dig out in that exact location, perhaps I could dig around it. Cube by cube, meter by meter, I dug through the underground with my trusty shovel. My hopes proved to be in vain. No matter how far I dug, that same barrier proves to surround the entire tent in a great dome. Left, right, forward, back, I was trapped. I was trapped. Contained. I couldn’t get out. No way out...

I could feel myself hyperventilate in the darkness underneath the tent. The solitary light source, that of the illuminated tent, shone down the hole. It beckoned me upwards, but that was the absolute last place I wished to go. And, oh, it beckoned fiercely. Despite me knowing what was up there, I had an equally deep-seated fear of the dark. No monsters spawned in the darkness like they do in the Overworld, but I lived with that notion in my head for so long I could not shake it. I had no choice. I was trapped underground with only one escape: that tent flap. I prayed that the white barrier did not extend that far.

Towers were the easiest creations to make. All I needed to do is jump in the air and place a cube of anything in the void of my jump. I could reach any height by this method. I stood under my hole, looking up into the light above. From the dark, and into the light I go. I was scared, but I was prepared to go down swinging if I needed.

Jump and place, jump and place. I slowly created a platform of increasing height that slowly shot up the hole. As I approached just short of the top, I slowly looked above the apex and quickly took in the whole room. I did not see the familiar flash of gold armor of that hellbeast, thank the Powers.

Upon hearing Barrakade’s deep voice I slowly rose. Still no gold armor. That was good; maybe it lost interest in me? Instead of the sword, I switched to the pick; I needed the pick to hammer through that barrier outside if the need to arose.. I seriously doubted I would be able to slay the creature anyway; it was just some gut instinct that told me I could not.

It did not come. I don’t know how that leviathan managed to get through the barrier and not me, but it had left and not returned. My guards, Barrakade, the two horned creatures, and a newcomer were all who were present. I exhaled the desperate breath I was not aware that I had been keeping. Barrakade and the newcomer left,, but I really didn’t care about that. That thing was gone and that was all that mattered.

I slumped to the ground in a heap, once again ignoring the buzz and shifting noise around me. My face was in my palms in an attempt to block out the light and gain control of my rapid breathing. I had no idea how long I lay curled up on the ground. After a while, I just sprawled myself on the grass. There were no stars to look upon, only the lit tent roof. The hushed whispers of my guards and the steady beat of rainfall were lulling my mind into a more relaxed state. White noise. I needed the white noise. If my brain was free of impulses, all I was going to do is think, and that was not something I wanted to do anymore. There was too much to think on, too much too fear and admire. I would take creepers and Endermen over this world any day. Just like my first day, I was exhausted, utterly spent of all emotion and enthusiasm.

I did not like the feel of grass tickling my skin for long, so I choose the more familiar option: dirt. My sluggish muscles pushed my worn body up and wiped away whatever smudges of dirt and grime that stained my skin. My grain farm was growing nicely; it only required about ten more minutes at that point. Rather than returning to the underground, I waited out the last remaining minutes. The gasps of surprise were still present as I used the grain to craft some bread, but not as pervasive as before; they were growing used to what I could do little by little. I devoured the bread with ease and planted some more seeds. They didn’t even stop me as I burrowed.

‘Fear not this night.’ No monsters could be conjured from the darkest depths of madness and despair. The deepest darkness and blackest nightmares lay inside the depths of my own mind. ‘Fear not this night,’ I repeated to myself. I had so little, and so much. I had my powers, but lost my world. I gained the tenuous trust of a prolific figure here, but I lost my faith that I could return home. It was theoretically possible that another Nether portal could return me to my rightful place. I knew not how to replicate the hellish hue, but I needed to try.

However, I could not gather lava, the most necessary ingredient for creating obsidian. I was so tired. The bread had restored my physical strength to tolerable levels, but my mind was too drained. It was becoming too much for me.

The column of light that led to the surface beckoned welcomingly, but I did not embrace its comfort. I needed to be alone. I conjured a single torch and placed it right next to me in the circular chamber I had dug underground. The barrier that contained me was circular, but that’s all I could discover about it other than I could not alter or absorb it. That was a rarity in of itself. The only other object I could not effect is bedrock. Was that phantasmal barrier of similar strength?

I lay against the dirt, resting my head against the wall. I did not care. About what? Anything. Whatever sense of professionalism and respect for my situation vanished as I sat in the dark of that room with only the light of the surface and my own flickering torch to guide me. Once again, I brought out my journal to write down my experiences and events.

The scratch of a quill against paper replaced the surface rain as the audio impulse to distract me. I did not want to think on my situation and was postponing the unfortunate inevitability as long as possibility. As long as I kept myself busy, I had the illusion of control to grasp and treasure in my strong hands. The thickness of dirt silenced the rain’s aria, but the strokes of my quill were adequate. They were enough, and for a while, I was content.

I don’t know how long I sat there writing. No creature on the surface bothered me, and I was grateful for the reprieve. The distant sounds and melodies were unceremoniously shoved into the same dark corner as all my fears and worries. I knew very well I shouldn’t do such a thing; cramming all the bad things together would only increase the potency of my panic when I finally faced them. I sacrificed the pleasure of temporary peace for the knowledge I would face a greater and more terrible fear on the black horizon.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some phantasmal haze soar across the room. I knew not where it came from or what it was, only that it was suddenly there and needed to be confronted. Tired as I was, I stood, a sword in place of the book.

“Luna.”

If a voice was crafted from cake and chocolate, that voice would have been it. My lower chamber was decently lit with my torch in the corner, and the voice led my eyes to the exact corner of the voice, but I could not make out the figure. Directly opposite of me, the light refused to touch the walls. That was most certainly not there before. I held my blade up to the corner, ready for whatever beast owned that haunting voice.

A creature I had seen only once before, one blessed by an otherworldly beauty and grace, stepped out of the darkness. No, such words were not adequate. The Sovereign was darkness made flesh. She was already in her element, having the unfortunate duty to remove herself from its bliss. I feared the dark, she embraced it. I was not certain I should be frightened or in awe of her.

She walked towards me, her hooves and silver finery shuffling softly in the meager light. Her deep cobalt skin and sublime, intangible mane of hair glittered softly in the dark. I knew not what constituted beauty in this world, but I felt I was in the presence of something glorious and wonderful.

She halted her pace halfway, watching me with her deep blue eyes. We could not understand each other, so I was understandably baffled as to why she would come to me. I made minute progress with Barrakade at best, and I wasn’t even sure if the majority of my intent was adequately understood in the slightest. What did Sovereign hope to accomplish?

Her horn flashed with light. It shined with a brilliance unlike anything I had ever witnessed in my entire life. The darkness that lurked beyond corners and silhouettes burned to ashes before my very eyes. Was it her way of finishing the deed other’s started?

My sword dropped with a dull thud as I held my arms to my eyes in a vain attempt to save my scorched retinas. I had no intention of using it on Sovereign once I discovered it was she that lurked on the edge of those shadows, but I kept it for security reasons. Now, nothing could save me if it so wished.

Behind my hand’s fleshy veil, I could feel the light dim. I uncovered my eyes and what I saw made me gasp.

The dirt ground had been replaced by a perfect topographical map of the town above. All of the little creatures that scuttled about in the darkness ignored the pair of us riding the wings of angels above. To the south was an orderly arrangement of tents and huddled creatures. Surely among their ranks were two creatures: a lonely god and a grandiose darkling.

The image raced northwest, passing some meager grasslands and an impressively sized gorge. It quickly passed smaller hamlets and towns, all lights cold and barren in the dreary night. Soon enough, the rain-splattered ground and waterlogged soil lessened the further we flew. I had fallen onto my rear in a most undignified manner by that point. My hands were dug into the moist soil. I could feel the tiny granules and particulates between my fingers and under my nails, yet even when I scooped up a handful of dirt, light and color reflected off it surface.

My mouth was agape. It was unbelievable. Absolutely resplendent, almost transcendental, in its wonder. Sovereign giggled, but was otherwise quiet. She observed me curiously and paid no attention to the images presented to us. Was it her doing? If so, it was marvelous magic.

The image raced further still. The towns slowly became larger and more plentiful. The wooden hovels expanded in size, although the lights were still dark. As the buildings became more lavish, they transcended from wood to stonework.All were modest by my standards, but for such small creatures, I could not help but admire their craftsmanship.

I could not admire for long due to the vision’s speed. Sovereign watched with an amused smile, but still did not move as the towns became cities. Out of nowhere, the urban development ceased. I blinked in confusion before the entire perspective shifted.

Instead of a flat topographic view, the image pulled upward. Before me lay a city that easily dwarfed all the other establishments several times over. It was a single, massive city built straight into the side of a mountain top. Battlements and thick walls surrounded the perimeter with a single, equally-massive closed wooden door denying access to its interior. The city’s innards were comprised of sprawling stone and woodwork. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, were grand and lavish enough for even my extravagant tastes.

As the vision flew deeper into the city, the buildings became even more posh and intricate. Some of the largest were adorned with several tall, spiraling towers. The largest construct, a several story sprawl, with several instruments on the roof I did not recognize, could have easily swallowed the camp my physical body stood beneath. Different markings stamped on cloth ribbons calmly tossed in the meager winds so far from the storm to the south. Whether they were important declarations of battle standards, I could not discern the answer with the vision’s speed. Intricate, colored glasswork interspaced with tiny metal frames reflected spectrums of light. Curved wooden beams – curved! – composed the roofs of several buildings, allowing for meager rain to drivel off the roofs and into iron gutters. Was there a city beneath the city?

I am glad I did not rise beyond my knees, for if I had, I would have fallen in sheer awe alone. The city itself could easily house thousands. If anyone had an eye for numbers and construction, it would be me. All I had seen so far paled in comparison to what lay before me. The largest building yet, a massive stonework castle - the obvious crown jewel of the city - lay bare with its pristine white towers and immaculate stonework. A little garish for my tastes, but the sheer dedication and work put into the structure, even for me talents, was simply astounding.

All the wood and stone masonry I had seen so far was excellent, but they were all mere pittance compared to the masterwork castle. Wood needed planks. The stones were sealed together was a tough, strong adhesive. Such standards did not apply to the castle’s design. The castle’s stonework was completely flawless. I did not detect even the faintest crack or weakness in its design. The tall, circular – more curves! – towers did not have even the slightest indent, bump, or displaced piece of stone to mar is perfection. I could not believe what I saw, but it had to be true. These creatures didn’t have the same powers as I, but they accomplished something utterly fantastic without it. The entire castle was constructed out of one, solid piece of stone.

To say I was humbled was an understatement.

The image raced up the broadest stonework to a large, colored window. I had no idea how they managed to color glass, but they did it. What the picture depicted, however, would forever change my views of the world I now stood in. A large circle stood in a field of stars. In the top half of the circle, an eight ribboned golden sun shined brightly. In the bottom half, a waxing moon stood as its brethren and companion.

Encircling the sun and the moon were two winged, horned creatures: a dark, demure shadow in an eternal game of cat and mouse with an alabaster twin.

The light and the dark. The sun and the moon. Crescent moon...

My eyes are drawn to her hindquarters and I saw Sovereign’s own marking. The waxing and waning moon.. Sun and moon, light and dark...

Sisters... one of the night, one of the dawn. By the Powers, I was in the presence of a deity...

I looked vacantly at the image once more, tracing the circle and the serpentine line separating the sun and the moon. The image vanished in a flash of light. When the spots cleared from my vision, Sovereign was kneeling next to me on the floor, her wings curling around my back.

I was taken off guard by the sudden and deeply personal embrace. For a creature I suspected to be a god... a hug was the last thing I expected to transpire. Perhaps worship, tribute, or reverence, but not that. That God of the Night – the god of this night – had embraced me.

The sheer scope of the vision – the citizens, landscape, and twin gods – impressed and awed me. I could not ravage this world like I did the Overworld; it was not rightfully mine. These creatures and their gods rightfully ruled this place as much as I have a claim on the Overworld. I was by every right an invader. I could have been destroyed right then and there, and I could have agreed with Sovereign’s actions. Desired them, no, but I saw the logic as rational and sound. To freely open herself up to attack was a sign of trust that I had not come to expect form these creatures. I had been attacked repeatedly by creatures of this land. For once, just this once, my weary mind could rest. Instead of violence, I was offered something else. Peace.

I could not deny that being in her presence was a comforting turn of events. The Sovereign’s warmth consumed and surrounded me like a blanket as her earthy scent pervaded my nostrils. Her wings cut off all light that intruded in on our private domain, but I was not worried. I was... content. Wrapped in her feathered embrace, I felt truly relaxed. I could hear her steady heartbeat through her breast bone. That one word she said earlier, whatever it may have meant, was the only word spoken between us, yet no more were needed.

I didn’t need to be afraid of this place. I was extended an offer of something more than peace, but possible companionship. I was not alone.

Sovereign parted from the embrace, folding her wings by her side once again. I felt the chill of the underground. Although tolerable, it was abrupt and noticeable after the pleasant warmth she had just imparted me. A smile tugged at her lips and I could not help but copy the impulse. She bowed respectfully, which I in turn repaid.

She backed away, walking towards the column of light. She gave me one last nod before she vanished into a cloud of missed and snaked through the hole.

Fear not this night...

I don’t.

After meeting with Sovereign, I was in a chipper mood to be sure. I was incredibly bored, but happier than I’d been for the last few days. My guards seemed to take my improved attitude as a sign of caution. I didn’t blame them; I was most dour in our most recent encounters and seeing the shift in attitude when it was out of their line of sight would be unnerving. Some of them were snickering after I extracted myself from the underground. It was just Sovereign and myself all alone with the visions, so I could not fathom their mirth.

I spent the majority of my time crafting diamond blocks into normal gemstones and back. I had no other means to entertain myself and I did not have the resources of the leeway to build anything. I could not help but be inpatient in my actions. When done building or mining, I move on to my next objective without a second thought.

Now that I think about it, that seems cold of me. The moment I complete an objective like building a bridge, a superstucture, or stripmining a mountain, I take no time to appreciate the structure as I should. Of course, I take a moment to admire past works when walking through my many stone and wooden cities, but many times I just continue to my next work.

Boredom makes me think too much. Still... that is something to think about at some point in the future.

My guards have relaxed a measurable deal around me. While those with steel and white manes still observe me with calculated and hard eyes, the younger winged creatures seem to have accepted my uniqueness in stride. Over time and one by one, each guard was replaced by a fresh replacement. I had difficulty telling them apart in their concealing armor, but I could tell the weary apart from the invigorated substitutes by the way they held themselves. I don’t need to sleep, other than to simply pass the time. True, my mind and body become weary, but sleep is not necessary for the likes of me. Perhaps those creatures weren’t blessed with such stamina?

It took an ungodly long time for something to actually happen in that barren tent. I quickly acquired several days worth of bread with little trouble. I could have expanded my farm even further, but I wished to have the room to maneuver if need be. Besides, I had crafted enough bread to sustain myself for some time before I saw Barrakade.

It was close to thirty days between her initial departure and eventual return. When she opened the tent, I could see the early rays of dawn filtering over the plains. I could not see much further, for even though the early rays of the sun shined, the sky above me was still bloated with rain and the cloak of falling droplets hid much from my gaze. Seeing the sun, I wondered if I would ever see Sovereign's companion self.

Barrakade entered with a smile on her face with that same frumpy-looking horned creature at her heels from before. After a brief chat with one of the leathery-winged ones, she walked right up to me.

Out of impulse, I extended a palm and conjured her helmet for her to reclaim. She shook her head and tugged on my shirt, willing me to follow her. Sighing, I closed my little underground burrow with dirt, collect my water and seeds, and follow her out the door.

I wasn’t sure what she was planning, but I cooperated. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle, but some illusory, white barrier halted it before it touched us. Not a soul was in sight, but as the two of us walked, the leather-wings filed out and followed us in a loose circle. Barrakade was in the middle with her companion on her right and myself on her left. Still curious and marginally intimidated by the horned one’s powers, I kept a careful eye on it. It seemed more interested in Barrakade, though. I wasn’t really sure why, especially because the two spoke to each other minimally at best.

Little of interest happened, and using my previous experiences with my new landscape, I was most grateful for the decrease in tension. I calmly walked with a hand in each pocket, letting Barrakade lead the way.

After a day’s walk (How long are these accursed days?), we arrived at a fairly large tent structure. I did not take much time to observe it, for we had guests, and one of them I recognized well. Waiting in front of the entrance was Sovereign. She seemed weary, but no less worse for wear with her calm smile. She accompanied six other diminutive creatures, each one a different shade of color and staring up at me with slack jaws and fearless wonder. One of them looked like it was about to vibrate through the ground out of sheer excitement.

Well, well, well, what surprise did you bring for me, Harbinger of Night?

One of their ranks, a cream-colored winged creatu–

By the Powers, it was Barrakade’s diminutive twin! The one from my visions!

Then she started to moan and whimper in fear. What did I do now?

Chapter 21: Secure, Contain, Protect

Chapter 21: Secure, Contain, Protect

The stirrings of early morning dawn and wet grass greeted Luna as she walked through the military garrison. After last night’s events and a quick nap, she was in fair spirits. She was hardly a day mare, but there was still one more thing to do before she could get some proper sleep, and that was attend the mandatory Site Command meeting scheduled in just a few short minutes.

Luna stood tall and firm as her hooves moved through the moist grass. Due to the Magi’s craft, spells had been set in place to prevent rainfall in the base. Rainwater had severe deleterious effects on courier packages and general morale. Now that everypony could walk without fear of spending extended periods of time in freezing rain, efficiency had improved greatly. However, Luna had detected another fine layer of spells underneath the barrier. Using her horn, she sent her magic forth and detected the lingering threads of anti-teleportation magic.

Luna dared not tamper with the spell. If it was there, it was there for a reason and she intended to find out why. The quicker the meeting ran, the faster she could sleep. As she walked, and as soldiers bowed and saluted as she passed with her small entourage of guards, she pondered on her failed efforts to locate either creature through Dream Scrying. Her efforts proved for naught; both creatures either had measures put in place to hide their dreams from her, or neither slept in the first place.

Whatever the cause, she hoped to get her answers in time. Sleep beckoned, and it beckoned fiercely. Formality and leadership demanded strength, and in order to do that, it needed a strong front, even if it was a false one. Luna held her head up high and kept walking, pushing the sands of sleep back as far as they would go.

Luna had thought of simply flying to the Military Intelligence Center, but her subjects seeing a diarch in their midst was good for morale, especially due to the recent capture.

“Has he proved any trouble, Captain?” Luna asked her trusty head of security.

“None, Highness,” Captain Hawk replied. “His behavior has been described as bored, but not troublesome.” The aged pegasus’ face was artfully blank, but Luna had known the captain long enough to know that the slackened tension in his shoulders meant he was as fatigued as she was. Both would not admit to their desires, however. “He does not like being contained.”

“No pony does. When is he to be moved?”

“After the debriefing, Highness. Although – if I may – why is there an issued call to quarters for the duration of his transfer?” Hawk asked. It was an odd order, especially because the guards assigned for stockade duty were all Night Guards.

“I cannot answer that, Captain.”

Hawk nodded. “Fair enough.” Hawk knew how secrecy among nobles worked. Sometimes information should be given to the masses as a means of trust.

That did not mean some things shouldn’t stay buried.

Second Lieutenant Skylar, Captain Barricade’s second in command, had warned the Princess ahead of time to not reveal anymore than necessary about that specific order until she met with him personally. Even she did not yet know the full extent of the conspiracy surrounding the creature’s reactions.

Luna flicked her head back, her mane scattering in the slight morning wind. “I have heard First Lieutenant Chaser greatly wishes to return to duty.”

A crooked smile crossed Hawk’s lips. “Aye. She does. It’s partly because she wants to look tough, and partly because she wants to see the creature that put her in the hospital. I’m not letting her back on security detail unless she’s cleared by the doctor.”

Luna nodded and left the issue at that. Hawk knew well enough what she demanded and required for her entourage and she left the finer details to him. Luna, Hawk, and the remainder of her security detail entered the core of the base. Luna said her formalities – the proper ones – and delved through the usual cavalcade of pleasantries. Unlike her previous trip to the Mild West, that had been filled with protocol for the simple sake of tradition. Here in the middle of active duty soldiers, she was in her element. Soldiers were trained to know their place. When formalities ended, they stopped bowing and scraping and got on with their work.

Luna was a stickler for formality, except when it got in her way.

It was only another minute or so until they reached the MIC. Waiting for Luna near the entrance was a Royal Guardpony. Skylar was broad-chested and tall for a pony. He was almost as large as his CO, something Barricade always teased him about. Skylar had a manila envelope in one saddlebag, and something large and bulky in the other. The mysterious object immediately drew Luna’s attention, as the residual traces of magic clung to it.

Second Lieutenant Skylar bowed deeply. “Princess Luna, it is always a pleasure to see you.”

“Rise and report.”

“As you wish, Highness.” Skylar did so and filtered through his saddlebags for the envelope. “Our miner friend will be moved off site shortly, just as soon as we finish with the briefing. What we have in here is a complete compendium of all his traits, powers, and behavior cataloged as detailed as possible. As you know, we cannot understand him just yet, so the accuracy of such data cannot be guaranteed in any sense of the term.”

Skylar handed the compendium to the princess and she flipped to a random page.

Page 22

Addendum S-5

Powers and abilities - Transmutation

Range

The Miner displays the remarkable and undocumented capability to modify and transfigure anything within arms reach into other substances without conventional magic. Whether or not this ability is limited to any item the Miner can physically touch is debateable, as he has been seen to place items (See Addendum S-2 for complete listing of conjured items) in places he is not physically touching. Such conjuring has yet to exceed fivemeters, but whether this is a finite limit or simply his comfortable range is unconfirmed.

Physiology

While the Miner’s abilities do not appear to be biological in origin, they may be limited by his own physique to so some unknown extent. As of yet, the Miner has not displayed the ability to conjure items from anywhere other than his right hand. Whether this is due to the Miner simply being right handed and conjuring them out of convenience or if this is a genuine restriction on his power has not yet been verified.

Transfiguration

Despite being able to absorb a supposed infinite number of items of varying size, mass, and density, the Miner only appears to be able to conjure items once he has absorbed them, not create them of his own free will. While he is able to combine and create new items from existing materials, there is a distinct eradication of excess material not used in the crafting process. Whether the addition waste material is used in some manner or truly vanishes into nothing is up for debate. If the latter proves true, the Miner may be the first confirmed violator of Starswirl’s Law of Interchange and Distribution of Matter and Magic.

Continued on next page

Luna finished reading and Skylar continued, “The Miner, as some of the stallions started calling him, has inferred through rough sign and body language that the second creature of capable of some form of teleportation.”

Luna nodded, her worries confirmed. “These are wise precautions to take. Has this so called “Miner” revealed any other morsels of data for us?”

“None, Highness. The Miner writes in some journal, but has not let anypony see what it contains as of yet. If he cooperates, we may be able to acquire a rough means of dialog and learn faster. He refuses to talk,” Skylar shook his head, baffled, “for whatever the reason. He has yet to say why. Or write.”

“That decision is his own and his alone. However,” Luna’s eyes appeared to harden, but that was just Luna’s own way of concentrating. Nevertheless, it made Skylar paw at the ground nervously. “I was under the impression we would be encountering Captain Barricade, not you.”

“Ah, of course.” Skylar sighed in relief. “Despite the initial report sent to you relating to the creature’s capture, Captain Barricade’s wounds proved to be more severe than initially thought. She is under the hospital’s care until further notice, but special exceptions have been raised due to... recent events.” Skylar snorted in displeasure.

This time Luna’s eyes did narrow. “Explain.”

Skylar fished out what lay in his other saddlebag. “I was supposed to deliver this to you and only you.” Skylar brought out a box carefully wrapped in ribbons and sealed with a wax stamp bearing the sun and moon seal of the crown. “Not even I know what’s inside. Captain Barricade made it very clear that what was inside was for your eyes only. She said the reason she’s exempt from medical leave is contained in that.”

Luna nodded to Captain Hawk, who nodded back in turn. Hawk walked into the MIC, and after a few moments, a horde of clerks and officers walked out, grumbling all the way. After seeing Luna, they stopped grumbling awfully fast.

She paid them no mind and walked inside as soon as Hawk gave the signal that the room was clear. She set the box on the table and examined it. It wasn’t anything too special, just a rectangular box made to contain something almost a foot long. She broke the wax seal and opened the box. Reaching in with her magic, she pulled out a hollow, rectangular stone tube carved with glyphs of sealing, inferno, and locking. A golden cap was locked firmly in place on one end, sealing away its contents.

“A Boom Tube?” Boom Tubes were a special device used to carry sensitive documents from one place to another. The scroll was sealed inside and locked with the magical frequencies of two unicorns, the sender and the receiver. It was unlocked by placing one’s horn into the Boom Tube and casting a simple unlocking spell, and that’s where the device’s deviousness began. If unlocked by a unicorn other than those it was meant for, the runes would activate and burn the document to ashes. Faulty Boom Tubes could be unlocked safely by other means, or they simply exploded in columns of fire.

Luna placed her horn inside the hollow tube and cast the spell. She felt as much as she heard the clicks of unlocking stone gears and dispelled magic. After unlocking the cap, removing the parchment still smelling of fresh ink and parchment, she started reading.

To Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna,

I shall inform you foremost that this message must be read privately with no prying eyes. The contents of this letter are deserving of the utmost secrecy, for if my suspicions prove true, nopony must read this document other than yourself. When you are done, I beseech you to destroy this letter and scatter the ashes.

As you know, the bipedal creature was captured last night. We made the usual attempts to communicate, with only the barest headway made. During our interactions, however, Major Stormcloud and myself discovered an insidious secret.

The creature’s only encounter with a Royal Guardpony was myself. However, during our duel, my armor was covered in a rain cloak to ward off the tempest created by the Ponyville weather team. The creature could not see my armor, but that fact escaped my mind when Major Stormcloud entered the creature’s containment chamber. When he entered, the creature responded with a violent fear of his mere presence until Stormcloud left. To confirm a hunch, I asked him to return without his armor on.

My hunch proved true: the creature did not react in the slightest. As he has not encountered ponies enough to tell the difference with their armor on, the creature cannot tell the difference between one Royal Guardpony from another. Therefore, considering there have been no reports of anypony encountering the creature between his capture and his encounter with First Lieutenant Lightning Chaser, I believe a Royal Guardpony encountered this creature and covered it up.

I know not the context of their meeting, only that it scared him to the point of mind-numbing terror. We may have a traitor in our midst. I hope my fears prove false, but I cannot think of any other alternative. The Night Guards on duty at the time of Stormcloud’s arrival have been sworn to secrecy on the matter. The next step is to disallow all Royal Guardpony contact with him. The following step would be to covertly trace the movements of all Royal Guardponies and the creature’s own trail in the hope of discovering the saboteur.

As the creature seems to trust me most, I have been in contact with him as much as possible to ease tensions, but my other duties and recent injury at his hands proves troublesome. Until the time comes where he starts trusting another, I will be the primary liaison between him and the Equestrian military.

I do not like this turn of events, but there is little that I can do other than learn what this creature knows. He knows about the second creature in some aspects, as it was from data gained from our earliest “conversation” that we discovered the second creature can teleport. I just hope we can speak with him before something terrible happens.

Captain Barricade of the Pegasus Corps

The letter flashed into ashes before Luna’s eyes. As her magic consumed the document, Luna struggled to contain her own wrath.

“A traitor...” The tent’s walls expanded under sudden pressure and documents scattered in a magical wind. Only moments after the magical flares started, they stopped. Luna bit her tongue to try to reign in her temper. Luna took a deep breath to calm herself.

The ponies gave Luna a wide berth as she left the tent. Even though her face was smooth, everypony could feel the weight of her magic laying heavy in the air. Whatever message she received, it was certainly not pleasant news. Nopony was willing to look her in the eyes, save for her own security team.

“Carry on,” was Luna’s only remark. Unsure of how to address the princess, they all kept their heads down as they slowly filed inside.

The scheduled debriefing room was a massive tent capable of comfortably seating at least two hundred ponies. Hawk parted the entrance to allow Luna to enter unimpeded, but only he entered after her; the remainder stayed outside. As the head of her own security, only Hawk had the appropriate clearance to enter. As soon as one stood at attention and saluted, the rest soon followed. Luna did nothing as she passed, leaving the formality come and go in silence.

The room had several cushions laid out in a neat grid for the invited officers. Near full to bursting with only a few more officers filtering through over the course of a few minutes. As the pony with the highest authority among them all, Luna had a reserved seat near the front next to the base’s upper echelon members. Doctor Hemos was among them; being the base’s senior medical officer granted him that privilege, although most present were certain he would rather be anywhere else other than a debriefing. He was a stickler for duty, however, and was there to care for his charge.

That was, of course, Captain Barricade. The mare in question wore a loose military dress rather than her armor, likely to not irritate both her wounds and Hemos. She stood on an elevated platform at the very back of the tent so that everypony present could see her clearly. Barricade rubbed her shoulder, wincing slightly; she was still in pain from her wounds, Luna concluded. It was no wonder Hemos still eyed her like a hydra. Barricade nodded respectfully to Luna and then filtered through some notes on her podium.

As the last of the ponies found their assigned seats, Barricade stomped on the wooden platform. “This meeting is called to order.” What little conversation there was died down fast. Barricade nodded to a petite Magi mare near the front carrying saddlebags near to bursting. She pulled out a scroll with a single picture on it, and after a flash of light from her horn, the image projected onto the rear wall behind Barricade. With another flash of light from her horn, the magical orbs placed in all four corners of the tent dimmed enough for everpony present to see the image: the biped clad in his blue pants and green shirt.

“Alright, mares and gentlecoats, we are all here to discuss containment, research, and interaction procedures pertaining to the creature tentatively dubbed “The Miner”. Until communication with the creature has developed enough to establish concrete facts, this moniker is as good a title as any.

“First order of business: containment. The Miner is to be accompanied at all times by no less than two Night Guards and at least one Magi. Under no, I repeat, no, circumstance shall Royal Guardponies willingly come into visual contact with the Miner. This is not negotiable and anypony that willingly violates this rule shall be relieved of duty and face disciplinary measures. If there are extenuating circumstances where a Royal Guardpony must interact or approach the Miner, a request must be submitted to both Professor Hexxus and myself, Site Commander Captain Barricade and Head of the Pegasus Corps, and approved by both of us. Any and all visiting Royal Guardponies must be plain clothed or completely bare. This, too, is not negotiable under penalty of disciplinary measures and possible court martial.”

“Captain?” called a Royal Guardpony near the back.

“Yes, soldier?”

“Can you elaborate on this procedure? Why must we, the Royal Guard, take such measures and not the Night Guard?”

“That is classified, soldier.” Barricade’s deep alto voice echoed in the spacious tent, hammering in the point even further into their minds. It was not a rule to be violated lightly. Or at all.

The soldier was clearly unsatisfied with the response, but kept his mouth shut. Barricade continued, “Under no circumstances shall the Miner allowed to come into visual contact with civilians. Any proposals for civilian interaction with the Miner must be submitted to this base’s Site Command personnel, be ratified by a two-thirds majority of Site Command senior staff, and gain my own approval. Any deviation from this will result in disciplinary action.”

Barricade glared at the crowd of ponies before her. The soldiers returned her stare, not willing to be the first to break contact with the Captain. Barricade sheer force of presence and her reputation, however, started to cause some ponies with weaker fortitude to sweat and avert their eyes.

Not wanting to postpone the briefing any longer, even if she had fun intimidating some of her more rebellious underlings, Princess Luna was watching and she needed to continue, “We suspect the Miner will not provoke an attack or attempt to break containment. Now, if there comes a time where we are proven wrong, protocol is to summon no less than five Night Guards and a Magi to reestablish containment, along with myself. Nopony should come within five meters of the Miner at any time until reinforcements arrive. The primary objective is to isolate the Miner from civilian populations and await for my arrival. Magi are to cast barrier spells to shield against projectile and melee attack. If possible, immobilize the creature’s right arm and await for my arrival, whereas I will escort the Miner to a secure facility. For those who are unaware of his abilities, please read Addendum S-5. Be warned; our collective knowledge is still incomplete. Don’t make any assumptions when facing him.” A few ponies began shuffling through their paperwork to examine the file. “Questions?”

“What are the roles of the Royal Guard in the event of containment breach?” asked a petite Staff Sergeant in the back.

“All members of the Royal Guard are not to approach the Miner, unless to take action to prevent civilian casualties. Escort civilians to safety, but you are not to approach the Miner unless he makes a hostile move on civilians. Only civilians; if he starts attacking any magi, Royal Guardponies, or Night Guards, fall back and summon the Council of Magic and the Night Guard.” That also caused several Royal Guardponies to grumble complaints, but one frosty stare from her silenced all opposition.

“The Miner is to be contained in a temporary off site facility staffed by no less than thirty Night Guards and five Magi at all times. In addition, four Night Guards will provide aerial reconnaissance of the facility, taking special care to watch for any thrown items the Miner may summon. At all times, a repulsory shield shall be set in place around the entire facility to prevent the Miner from escaping until he is no longer deemed a security risk. This barrier is to be projected underground as well as overground.

“The Miner appears to only require bread for sustenance and is permitted to have as much as he requires. All Magi and Guard personnel are not to speak to the Miner unless given direct authorization by myself and Professor Hexxus. Should he make vocal or any other form of linguistic contact, immediately log the incident and report to your site supervisor.

“All Magi examining the Miner and his abilities are to log their research, even if no productive results come to fruition. Should he express any form of discomfort, discontinue research and wait until he is in a more docile state. He can be very dangerous when frightened, and we do not wish to have a repeat of our first contact.” Several Magi nodded emphatically, but Diamond Solitaire looked more intrigued than worried. Barricade made a mental note to deny the loquacious Magi access to the Miner.

“Should he refuse to cooperate with research and testing, end your studies, report to your site supervisor, and await further instructions. Questions?”

Hemos raised his hoof. “Has any discoveries as to his race been made?”

“That is a negative. We have yet to understand even the most basic aspects about this creature’s nature, abilities, or biology. We are awaiting more direct testing via the Council of Magic for additional data, should the Miner prove cooperative.”

“Is there any more data related to his abilities not listed in the file? To be more specific, any means to neutralize his abilities?” asked Corporal Winds.

“All available data is recorded and placed for your convenience in Addendum S-5. No means of counteracting his powers has been theorized,” Barricade responded.

“What of the Farlander Portal? Does this monster have any relation to it?” asked a relatively bored-looking Night Guard.

Barricade glared daggers at the Guard, causing him to jump out of line and straighten in his seat. “The Miner is a sentient, highly intelligent being capable of as much as any of you in the room. He is not a monster. He is not a beast.” She grit her teeth, letting every drop of emotion leak into her words. The lazy pony started to shrink under her penetrating gaze, afraid to look at her, yet more afraid to look away not that he caught her ire. “He is a living being that deserves respect. Even if fate reveals he is violent and vengeful, containment is for his own protection as much as the civilians in Ponyville. Is that understood?”

The foolish pony nodded furiously, as did several others not under Barricade’s direct gaze.

“As a corollary to your question,” Barricade gave the pony one last glare. “We may have received some viable intel from him. He sketched a crude drawing of a creature during initial containment.”

The skinny Magi removed another scroll, this one a rough sketch of the miner’s own crude drawing. Dropping the spell that showed the Miner, she projected another image in its place. The new creature was very tall and had equally gangly limbs that nearly were as big as anypony was tall. It’s body was as black as pitch, save for two empty eyes on its face. The rookies sniggered at the crude drawing, but the veterans and Princess Luna felt a slight chill down their spine.

“While the Miner’s descriptive skills are limited due to lack of stable communication,” several Guards and Magi snickered again at the crude drawing, “we have reason to believe that this is the second creature that exited the first portal. Our initial estimates believe that this creature is capable of teleportation in addition to a high stealth quotient. He also expressed a deep desire to not look the creature in the eyes. I know that this condition seems difficult to follow, but I believe we should take the same measures. If this creature, this “Farlander,” is discovered, take care to not look it in the eyes and immediately call for reinforcements.”

“Has he expressed any understandable rationale behind this fear of visual contact?” Diamond Solitaire asked.

“Negative. However, we have reason to believe this creature may be violent. In Addendum S-7,” another flurry of shuffling papers followed, “you will see reports about attacks on several creatures in the Everfree Forest. We have reasonable evidence suggesting that this Farlander is responsible, and since it can face the monsters in the forest on even grounds and has yet to be discovered, extreme caution is advised nevertheless.”

“Has the Miner explained his coming to this land?” Princess Luna asked.

“Also a negative, Princess. He is either unable to speak, or unable to understand our speech. It is part of the Council of Magic’s job to decipher a means of communication with the Miner in order to understand more about him and how he came here. On that same token, the Miner has not expressed knowledge of the Farlander portal’s existence at this point in time.”

“Should such intelligence be shared with the Miner?” Diamond Solitaire questioned.

“Negative. Unauthorized personnel are not to share any data with him under any circumstance, even if he cannot understand our language. The inherent risks are simply too high. Any more questions?”

Queries seemed to be running dry. After a full five seconds, Barricade was ready to adjourn, but Hawk’s hoof rose. “Yes?”

“Is his life a priority if he proves too hostile to contain?”

Barricade sighed; she didn’t like the question one bit, but knew it was a distinct possibility that may prove possible. She did not believe he would provoke an attack, but a trapped mouse would fight, even if confronted with the dreaded cat. In truth, Barricade’s greatest fear was that the Miner would end up hurting himself in a blind panic and she would need to kill him. “The Miner, if he cannot be calmed and no suitable reinforcements are present or nearby, is to be terminated with prejudice.”

Now that caused a stir. Officers whispered quietly to each other, sharing opinions and prepared contingencies. Most were pleasantly positive, as none truly understood the scope of the Miner’s abilities. Little did they know how potentially powerful the Miner could prove to be. Luna decided to defuse the situation before any need to arose. “Has he conveyed any knowledge of the attack on Canterlot?”

“None, Highness,” Barricade responded. “There is a distinct possibility that the attack is somehow related to the obsidian and Farlander Portal, but until the Magi stationed in Canterlot discover more, that – too – shall remain hidden from him.”

Nopony had any further inquiries. “If that is all, dismissed.”

Magi Solitaire followed Princess Luna as she exited the tent. Her guards did not part for him to get closer to the princess, but allowed him to trail from a respectable distance.

“A bit for your thoughts, princess?”

Luna had nagging doubts in the back of her skull ever since the meeting began. “I fear what may come of this, Magi. We know so little about this creature. His nature, his habits, his powers; I fear we may make a fatal mistake in our dealings with him and come to regret it.”

Luna did not need to turn around to see the winding gears in Diamond’s mind to know what he may be thinking. Luna had read the Magi’s file and knew how much emphasis he placed on learning and not how it was used or gained. He was a good pony, but knowledge tended to come before lives emotional wellbeing.

“It will certainly take some time before we can translate his language, princess, and that is if he allows us access to that book of his.”

“There is another way.” There was a dangerous way; if there was one type of magic Luna specialized in, it was magic of the mind. “I know a certain spell that allows me to gaze upon his thoughts and dreams.”

“The Mind Delve?” Luna had stopped walking at his tone. She had expected him to wholeheartedly embrace the use of her Dreamwalking talents, but he sounded fearful. “I do not believe that is wise, princess.”

“Oh?” Luna smirked, causing Diamond to avoid her eyes. Ponies always seemed more intimidated of her when she smiled and embraced her when she acted out of the ordinary. The juxtaposition and irony was completely lost on her, but she embraced them nevertheless. Diamond still had not spoken his mind, so Luna prodded him a little more. “Speak Magi. State your worries.”

“I...” Diamond finally mustered the courage to look at her in the eyes. “I do not believe that to be a safe course of action at this time, Highness; his physiology is radically different than any creature we have encountered before. If the same proves true for his mind, than even your own considerable skill may not be sufficient to protect you.”

“Do you doubt my skills?” Luna glared at Diamond, who once again shrunk under her gaze. The floundering light underneath the overcast sky cast Luna in darkness, her element, which only added to the image. She agreed with the Magi’s sentiments, but she wished to poke fun.

“N-not at all! I just-”

Luna chuckled, cutting off further protest or scrambling for excuses. “Your concerns are noted and accepted. I will postpone the attempt until further data becomes available. Excuse me, Magi. I have a request to make.”

It was indeed a strange request, but given the context of recent years and the events that had occurred, it was practically commonplace with what was currently considered “strange” by Ponyville standards. Luna and Hawk were surrounded by legions of tomes, manuals, novels, and instruction booklets, and that was only what was in their direct line of sight.

“Don’t worry about her; she does this sometimes.” Spike waved off whatever concern Luna may have for the currently immobile and silent Twilight Sparkle. “Give her about five seconds and she’ll be fine.” Five? Goodness; Twilight must have finally seen a professional about her quirks.

While she trusted the Magi implicitly, Diamond’s reactions weighed on her conscious. The creature had information critical to their understanding of what had been occurring recently. The Magi were wise beyond their years and there was little to halt the force of will that was Czarina Bangle. Those were affairs of state and magic, however. Those few brief moments underground with that creature were so very reminiscent of her thousand year lamentation as a shadow.

Luna ignored the tightening in her chest to the best of her ability. Those memories had long since been dealt with, even though the scars on her heart were still present. She had more pressing matters; a creature was in need of assistance. More specifically, he needed friends.

Luna knew six mares perfect for the job.

Spike stared at the clock on the wall. “Three... two... one...”

“...You want me to what?”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use. Click the link to check out his stuff.
SCP-1824 - The Miner
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Material Defender

Chapter 22: The Left Hand of the Devil

Chapter 22: The Left Hand of the Devil

Rainbow Dash turned off the tap and the spray of water cascading down her mane and back slowed to a drizzle. The sliding glass door opened without an irritating squeak and she stepped out onto the soft carpet. She shed most of the water clinging to her lean body with a quick shake, splattering moisture against the walls of her cloud home. A fortunate bonus for having her domicile constructed out of such materials, however, was that excess moisture was quickly swallowed by the fluffy walls. Call it lazy, but Rainbow called it efficient.

Rainbow quickly rubbed a towel through her mane and coat to absorb the excess water and draped it over her withers. With a nudge, she opened the door and entered the living room.

Several blankets lay neatly folded on the couch, the location of Fluttershy throughout the night when she finally calmed down. Rainbow had volunteered her spare bedroom adjacent to her own, but Fluttershy politely declined the offer. Rainbow had caught her mumbling a half-hearted excuse under her breath before saying she wished to sleep on the couch.

“I do not snore like a wildebeest,” she grumbled.

Like the rest of her house, the wide rooms and halls were supported by classical Ionic pillars designed by the Kolonos, the forerunners of the pegasi tribes. Random pieces of clothing, equipment, or toys belonging to the pegasus lay scattered across the floor and random pieces of furniture. Rainbow made a hasty attempt at cleaning her house when her impromptu visitor crashed for the night, but Fluttershy did not mind the mess. She never did.

Speaking of the Element of Kindness, she was nowhere to be seen.

“Fluttershy?”

“In here, Dash,” came a voice from the kitchen.

Rainbow trotted towards the kitchen. “Come on, Fluttershy! We gotta tell your mom about what happened last night.” The night that rendered the cream-colored pegasus a sniveling, bawling mess. Fluttershy’s vice-like grip refused to let go until she had finally cried herself dry over the course of ten minutes while Rainbow calmly rubbed Fluttershy’s spine in an attempt to soothe the distraught mare. She had never before witnessed her in such a frightened mood, even on those scant few times she stayed with her on Nightmare Night.

Rainbow’s heart went out to the cowardly mare. So much could easily frighten Fluttershy. It took Rainbow Dash half the night in order to convince Fluttershy to meet with her mother, and the other half to get her to explain what happened.

She had been followed. No, not followed - hunted. Hunted for sport with only the dying light of a lantern to protect her. It was enough to make her sick.

“I will find you...” she swore. Fluttershy was her oldest and first friend during her days in Cloudsdale. Nopony was a gentle, sweet, and caring as Fluttershy. Nopony would openly and willingly open her doors as quickly as her without complaint. Nopony would care for a filly she discovered out in the rain, cold, wet, and shivering, a memory of a forgotten friend from a bygone era.

Rainbow smiled; nopony deserved the Element of Kindness more than her friend.

Rainbow entered her kitchen only to find Fluttershy had taken over. Freshly-cooked scrambled eggs and squeezed orange juice lay ready on the pearly counter, heat and condensation clinging to the tableware respectfully. Fluttershy, however, had not touched her portion.

Papers lay spread across the table and the floor, all with various shades of inks splashed across the pages. Fluttershy was reared on her hind legs and drawing a picture. Seeing the paper strewn across the floor, Rainbow commented, “I thought I was the messy one, Fluttershy.” Fluttershy smiled softly.

Her creative skills far outstripped Rainbow Dash’s by a huge margin, but her drawing skills weren’t up to par with, say, her knitting and stitching skills. That did not matter, however; what she was capable of was more than enough to recreate her memory in ink. Fluttershy had used Rainbow’s time in the shower to sketch a rough drawing of what she had seen last night.

Fluttershy’s snout was wrinkled in concentration as she gripped a set of colors in her forehooves and one in her teeth. She was laying on the finishing touches as Rainbow’s hooves thumped softly on the fluffy cumulous.

“Almost done?”

“Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.

“Good; we gotta get outta here. I hate being cooped up for too long.

Fluttershy added the last slashes of shading and set them down on the table.

“That is one fugly monster, Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy didn’t respond. Oh, she agreed, but she knew full well why. The previous night was burned into her eyes, not even allowing sleep to take her when she had finally calmed down. Every shade of darkness and splash of color was created to the best of her ability. Rainbow Dash wasn’t sure what to make of Fluttershy’s picture. A bipedal body cloaked in filament threads of shadows, toned muscles to put Big Mac to shame, blue pants and a green shirt that would put Rarity into a coma, and a pair of white eyes.

Eyes that pierced through the shrouded darkness. Eyes that glowed with the radiance of the sun.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Material Defender, Maverick Frond

Chapter 23: Meet n' Greet

Chapter 23: Meet n’ Greet

“What I want you to do is to become the Miner’s friend, Twilight. More than anything right now, he needs to know that he is not alone in Equestria.” Luna sighed internally. She would have made it a demand that Twilight and her friends were to help, but she was far too tired to put up too much of a fuss.

“I beg your pardon, princess, but he’s far too violent to listen to us.” Twilight extended a hoof for emphasis. “He exploded a portal over Ponyville, he attacked Lyra, the Night Guard, and he put Fluttershy’s mother in the hospital. He doesn’t need friends, he needs guards.”

“All I wish is for you to give him a chance, Twilight; he deserves that much.” Something itched in the back of her mind before it clicked. “How did you know that Captain Barricade was hospitalized?”

“Oh. I was up before dawn and was asking around for anymore information. I needed to kill some time before I sent a letter to Princess Celestia.” Twilight began filling returned books away into their proper place on the many shelves. For such a small town, Golden Oaks Library was quite large.

“I thought you better than this, Twilight. Was it not so long ago when you helped me adjust to current life?” Twilight set her current book back down and her ears folded back over her skull. “‘Twas a long night and everypony trembled at my mere presence. After languishing for a thousand years in desolate cold, I return to discover no pony wants anything to do with me.This creature has no one, just like I did.”

Twilight did not return Luna’s gaze when she replied, “They only wanted you to scare them, princess.”

“Did I know such a practice?” Twilight shook her head. “I did not wish to scare them, only to make some friends. Everypony only wishes to belong. We have friends and family, Twilight Sparkle, to rely on in our darkest hours. This creature has none. You should know I above all ponies empathize with his plight.”

Twilight was silent for several minutes, chewing over her own thoughts and words carefully. Too many variables and scenarios to count collided in a viscous sludge in the depths of the librarian’s skull. All the information pertaining to the last three days was weighed, cataloged, sorted, and stored at quantum speed. All of it concluded that the creature deserved to be locked up.

“Okay, princess.” Despite the logic, she owed that much to Luna and the creature. “How do you know he’s not evil?”

“I don’t, Twilight.” Luna fought back a yawn. It was already five hours past her bedtime and trying to reason with Twilight was tiresome enough. “I only know we should. Indeed, we may be wrong, but to refuse this course of action would be an equally grave mistake if it comes to pass our suspicions prove true.” Hmmm... her royal we was leaking through.

“I hope you’re right, Princess Luna... I’ll meet you at his containment chamber after I find the girls.”

Ponyville was barren, and yet still busy. For the past few days, Twilight had grown accustomed to seeing Royal Guardponies and the occasional Night Guard wandering the small town, buying wares, or getting a quick bite to eat. For once, she did not see a single Guard across town.

The bustle caused by them had been replaced by citizens instead. Near the diner, Thunderlane had stopped by Roseluck and stuck up a chat. “I said I was up in the northern bit of town when I heard. They got him! I swear to you, they got him!”

“I – ” Roseluck’s soft voice was interrupted by the pegasus.

“Where do you think all the guards have gone? Hey, Twilight!” He had noticed the mare listening in on their conversation as she cantered by. “You’re buddy-buddy with the stallions in black. What’s up? Tell her I’m right.” He smiled smugly while Roseluck huffed in disapproval and sipped her lemonade, but she eyed Twilight curiously.

“Well, Thunderlane’s right- ”

“Ah ha! Pay up!” Roseluck grumbled and forked over a small hooffull of bits grudgingly.

Twilight was about to scamper off and fulfill her business for the day, but Roseluck stopped her. “Did anything else happen? Was anypony hurt?”

Twilight felt her eyebrow twitch in irritation; she would be caught out in the rain if this kept up. The bad weather had given the small town a momentary reprieve, but the angry clouds were only reloading for round two. However, Twilight chewed over her words carefully. True, she had acquired the proper clearance to know about Captain Barricade’s injuries, but she doubted Ponyville residents needed to know such information. “I don’t know, you two. That’s what I’m going to find out.” Before the pair could milk her for anymore morsels of information, she cantered away. It wasn’t polite to keep the princess waiting, after all.

Just like with the cafe, ponies were milling about more than usual, even with the oncoming threat of a storm hanging over their heads. They packed themselves in groups, all discussing the sudden disappearance of the Royal Guard and the increased activity in the base itself. Twilight was curious as to why there was anti-teleportation magic surrounding the entire neat grid of military tents. That was a question to be asked when she reentered the base.

Twilight sighed in exasperation. She blinked; “Where did that come from?” she asked herself. She had not done much herself in terms of finding and securing the creature, but she could not shake the sense of fatigue weighing on her mind. She felt like she had just awoken from one of her grinding sessions used to uncover magical or historical secrets lodged in ancient and dusty tomes.

Perhaps it was the sheer relief or irritation associated with the creature’s capture. Her past exploits had been quite simple: talk to a dragon, organize everypony, save the world. “How can one creature possibly cause so much trouble?” A hunt had been organized, two portals had been created, and several ponies were injured.

“And that’s just three days,” Twilight huffed. “He’d give Derpy a run for her money in terms of damage.”

Twilight tucked those thoughts away for later and brought out her umbrella. The first droplets of rain fell with the grace of tears, but even a few drops was too much for her at the moment. Securing it to her saddlebags, Twilight exited Ponyville proper.

Rainbow Dash’s house was closer than Fluttershy’s, but it was not uncommon for either to be at the other’s house. Rainbow was lazy, and Fluttershy was cowardly, so Twilight understood the rationale behind why the old friends stayed at each other’s house so often, but understood it induced... certain rumors in the gossip-ridden town.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight called.

Rainbow’s house was suspended in air as it always was. Twilight made a mental note to search her books as to why cloud homes could stay in one place in great, billowing winds. At that moment, two shapes exited one of the windows. The paler shape took the extra time to close the window before they both glided to the ground. Both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy attached umbrellas to their own saddlebags.

“Fluttershy!?” Twilight asked, bewildered. Fluttershy’s coat was washed and groomed, her hair was cleaned and combed to its usual, glossy perfection, but the deep shadows around her airs and fatigued stance gave the clear impression that the mare did not sleep in the slightest. “What happened?”

“Fluttershy saw a monster last night,” Rainbow Dash replied in place of Fluttershy. “We were about to go see her mom until you stopped by.”

“That’s good! Princess Luna asked me to collect the gang and meet her at the creature’s new containment cell.” At that news, Fluttershy whimpered and hid behind her.

Anticipating a potential fit, Rainbow Dash was quick to intervene. “Don’t worry!” She flung a hoof around Fluttershy’s neck and hugged her tight. “You’ll have the rest of us by your side the entire time. Plus your mom’s there and if what I heard is true, she beat the feathers off of him already. He won’t dare to mess with your mom or Luna.”

“That’s right, Fluttershy,” Twilight added. “He’s surrounded by guards around the clock, along with magi from the Council of Magic. There is no possible way he’s escaping with all of that and Princess Luna watching his every move.”

The timid and gentle pony did not look at the pair, instead occupying her tired mind with pawing the muddy ground with a dainty hoof. “How about we meet him once?” Twilight interjected. It was almost impossible to get Fluttershy to talk when she refused to do so. A pony’s only hope of extracting her out of one of her ruts would be to offer a string of potential conversation hooks and hope she latches onto one. “If anything, it what you saw is the same creature as the one they have captured, they have conclusive proof he’s a bad guy. Okay?”

Fluttershy’s inaudible response was softer than falling snow, so much so that neither Rainbow dash or Twilight heard what she had said. “What was that?”

“O-okay.”

“Right then, let’s collect Applejack, Pinkie, and Rarity and be off then.”

Twilight had caught the trio talking animatedly at Sugarcube Corner on their way to collect Pinkie. Even though Rainbow and Fluttershy could have flown and twilight teleported, all three walked to their destination; the oncoming storm had recovered its strength and projected large dollops of rainwater. It was not as severe as the previous day, but it was enough to keep a pegasus grounded. Rainbow made her displeasure very clear to the pair, an irritation that was only matched by Twilight having to listen to her.

Applejack and Rarity had commandeered a table while Pinkie and Mrs. Cake served their meager customers. It was still too early in the day for most, so Pinkie kept dancing back to her friends when she was finished with orders and continuing the conversation where she left off.

“‘Bout time they got that critter locked up. Ah coulda swore they were takin’ their sweet time.”

“You cannot possibly be suggesting the army purposely delayed themselves.”

“Not in the slightest, hun. Just sayin’ I’m glad the varmint's behind bars where he belongs.”

“Maybe I should grab some cupcakes to make him feel better?”

“Best of luck evading a battalion of armed guards, Pinkie.”

“What are they sain’ they’re goin’ tah do with ‘em?”

“They know about as much as we do, unfortunately. Supposedly the reason for the army’s sudden absence from the township is due to some meeting discussing that very topic.”

Pop!

“Put down the party poppers, dearie; those are considered hazards among the guards. They won’t let you anywhere near them with those.”

“Awwwwww...”

“Sorry, Pinkie. Rare’s right; ain’t no pony gonna let you throw a party fer some random bugger that fell from the sky.”

“But what if the wittle walien is all wonely? He needs an emergency party intervention, STAT!”

“No. Just... no.”

Twilight’s hooves clattered against the wooden floor, summoning the attention of the trio.

“Hiya, Twilight!”

“Hi, Pinkie. Hi Applejack. Rarity.”

“I do so apologize for not making it last night; the Royal Guard kept me busy all night with orders.” Rarity flung her mane to the side and sipped her beverage. Twilight smelled the aroma of coffee: two sugars, and as black as the Tartarus Pit.

“It’s not a problem, Rarity. In fact, if you’re free, Princess Luna asked me to gather everyone and meet her at the creature’s new containment facility. We’re going to be teaching him about friendship and Equestrian culture, it seems.” The moment that sentence dripped off her tongue, Pinkie’s empty platter dropped to the counter with a clang. A smile spread across her face.

Rarity set down her coffee and pulled Twilight to her. “Let’s leave before she vibrates through the floor.”

“Mrs. Cake! Hold down the fort, I have a party to plan!”

The air was charged with equal parts thunder and tumultuous emotions. The air itself hung an oppressive question over their minds: what were they getting themselves into? Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack were in a heated discussion, while Twilight, Pinkie, and Fluttershy pondered over the mental marathon they were all about to endure. Alien life. A creature not only different from a pony, but not even home to the planet. Too many unknowns, too many questions.

“I don’t give a bit what you think, Rarity, that thing is dangerous.”

“I only wish to give the poor fellow a chance.”

“‘Poor fella’? Do ah need to remind you what he’s done so far? He’s got a longer rap sheet than Al Capony.”

“Applejack’s right! What if that thing is what scared Fluttershy?”

The air vibrated with power. The six trudged through the dirt road and grasses south of Ponyville. After meeting with a Royal Guardpony, they received directions to the creature’s new cell and set off. The ground was waterlogged with excess rainwater, and it was only bound to get worse before tapering off at the end of the week. Such terrain made travel difficult, but not impossible. Each mare was clad in their best rain gear for the wet journey. Rarity, impeccable fashion sense never faltering in the slightest, was adorned in her finest parasol and stout linens. The impending downfall sprinkled heavenly tears, dire warnings for an impending angry nature god.

The overcast sky darkened more than the recently invigorated grasses. Twilight eyed the quiet Fluttershy; she still held her head low.

“Are you alright, Fluttershy? You look awful.”

“Uh huh. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Princess Luna just wants us to meet with the alien. After that, you can go back home. We can take care of things from there.” Fluttershy nodded in thanks. Twilight wasn’t certain if the offer was taken with the gravity she intended. The following proceedings needed tact, taste, and a careful hoof, procedures that were second nature to Twilight, but were uncertain with the tired, timid pegasus. Twilight would rather tread carefully than bite the bullet.

The talking died and was replaced with a few hums of surprise and approval as they crested a small hill. A large tent capable of swallowing Golden Oaks Library and made of the same durable, tough fabric hung over the depression between hills. Several smaller tents lay further south, likely housing and storage units for the alien’s new containment cell. A company of Night Guards had just finished drills and was currently preparing for guard duty. A squad rocketed over their heads and continued north, performing a routine but necessary search for threats.

“Overkill much?” Rainbow joked.

They had all heard stories of the powers the creature possessed, but even they couldn’t help but wonder if almost a hundred guards was being too careful. Before they could ponder the machinations of government and military, a lone Night Guard landed before the troop, spraying a fine mist of water as his beating wings disturbed the wet grass.

“Miss Sparkle? Corporal Shade.”

“Greetings, corporal.” The rest of the group gave their introductions. Pinkie, meanwhile, was surveying everything except the tent in front of her. Excitable as she was, something else was on the uppity mare’s mind.

“We’ve been expecting you. Princess Luna has already graced us with her presence. This way.” The trip was taken in relative silence. Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow had ceased their earlier conversation. Shockingly, Pinkie had barely uttered a peep since they left Sugarcube Corner. Such docile behavior was most unlike her usual behavior.

That, more than anything, scared Twilight.

Princess Luna was waiting near the front door with a grizzled Night Guard by her side. Now that Twilight thought about it, she had yet to see a single Royal Guardpony anywhere since she set out. What was going on?

“It is good to see you, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Likewise.”

“Good morning, Princess.”

“Howdy.”

“How’s it going?”

“...Hi.”

Pinkie was, strangely enough, silent. With a quick glance upward to check for falling objects, Twilight continued. Princess, I couldn’t help but wonder, why are all the guards – ”

“Why are all the guards Night Guards?” Luna finished. Twilight nodded. “That is something you must discover. This creature does not speak. As a scholar, it is your job to talk to him.”

Bewilderment crossed their minds. The nonsequitur nature of the comment even drew the attention of Pinkie.

“Talk to him? Ah don’t understand, Princess,” Applejack inquired.

“In order to learn more about how this creature came to be and entered this world, we need to create a common dialog first. Above all, you six have been selected for the task.” Luna swayed slightly, eyes drooping. Twilight knew full well the signs of acute fatigue, having experienced them herself many times over arduous nights. “You six have proven valuable and insightful to myself and Princess Celestia many times over. Of all the ponies in Equestria, I cannot conjure any better suited for the task.”

Rarity flushed with the compliment. At the other end of the spectrum, Rainbow Dash puffed out her chest in pride. Luna stood quietly, her mane flickering in the slight wind. The group was unaccustomed to seeing her in such a brightly lit setting and it outlined every curve of her cobalt fur.

“The creature is being brought to us as we speak. Prepare yourselves for your first diplomatic adventure in cross-species communication.”

“What a drag,” Rainbow joked. The mild attempt at humor was enough to lighten the mood with a chuckle from all, even Luna.

The seconds were counted by a bounce from Pinkie. The pent up excitement from the previous minutes had begun to boil over. A smile adorned her pudgy face and her saddlebags, brimming with Celestia knows what, jingled and jangled with every movement. Every granule of sand through the hourglass produced another hop in the air. Twilight was counting the seconds by Pinkie. Sixty seven... sixty eight... sixty nine...

They did not have to wait long. A small contingent of Night Guards and a burly Fluttershy lookalike crested the same hill they crossed only moments before. Everyone was still quietly waiting for their new arrival, including Luna. Twilight opened her mouth to speak... but the words died on her tongue. Luna had her eyes closed and her chest heaving in and out slowly. A small line of spittle escaped her mouth as she quietly snored on her feet.

“Snnnkt... ha ha ha ha!” Luna lurched awake with the sound of laughter.

The Night Guard prepared himself, limbering up a few joints before their new guests arrived. The group could see the alien from there. He was tall, taller than even Captain Barricade. Sandy-brown hair adorned his head, the only semblance of a mane he possesed.

Everypony carried a different expression upon seeing him. Rarity held quiet contemplation, Applejack face was contorted in thinly-veiled disgust, and Fluttershy cowered behind Rainbow Dash.

“Girls,” the captain’s voice boomed. “Rainbow Dash. Flutters...” Barricade’s voice died on her tongue as she embraced her daughter in a tight hug. Twilight wouldn't have cared that much, but Barricade’s body language was completely different than what was expected out of a greeting embrace.

“Mom...?” Barricade did not reply. Her forehooves were wrapped tightly around Fluttershy and refused to let go. The remaining mares, minus Luna, looked away. It felt almost perverse to look upon such an open display of affection.

“I thought... I missed you Fluttershy.” Barricade pulled away, regaining her former composure. “I apologize for my inappropriate behavior, Princess.”

Luna’s face was artfully blank. “Continue, Captain.” Barricade nodded, her own face smooth. She stretched her shoulder to loosen a dull ache and introduced her guest.

“Everypony, meet the Miner.”

“...I-i-i-it’s h-h-h-im-m-m,” Fluttershy trembled. As soon as she glanced at the creature, she shrunk behind Rainbow Dash and curled into as small a ball as she could.

“Fluttershy?” Barricade questioned.

“So it is you!” Rainbow Dash yelled angrily.

In just a moment, the mood had shifted from loving kindness to bristling anger and bewilderment. Luna’s poker face betrayed confusion, as did Barricade’s and the alien’s. His eyes darted from Barricade, to Luna, and landed on the quivering cream-colored feathers huddling behind the raging mass of hate glaring right back at him.

“Everypony calm down. Fluttershy, what are you talking about?” Barricade asked. The alien scratched his growing beard as if he had no clue what was happening in front of him.

Fluttershy was not the one who responded to her mother’s demand, but Rainbow. “He was chasing after Fluttershy last night. He was trying to hurt her.”

“Oh?” Barricade raised an eyebrow. Luna, too looked on curiously.

“Fluttershy, are you certain he’s the same one?” Twilight asked calmly in hopes of defusing the tense atmosphere.

“Uh huh. But... the eyes are different. They were white. L-like they were glowing.” Fluttershy peeked over Rainbow’s back and hid once again, not daring to lock her eyes with his. Her meager courage was running out as it was.

“What time, Fluttershy?”

Unseen in her hiding place, Fluttershy thought for a moment. The loose camaraderie Barricade had with the creature tightened and threatened to snap. He seemed to sense a change in emotions as he eyed Barricade curiously. Her own eyes narrowed coolly. If he did hurt Fluttershy...

“I-i saw him about ten minutes after I left Twilight’s house.”

“Nine fifty.” Twilight clarified.

“Making it ten o’clock.” That seemed to surprise Barricade more than anything so far, including her unintended hug for her daughter. “Fluttershy, I fought him at nine fifty five. I captured him at ten. He couldn’t have been there.”

“It has to be him! Who else could it have been?” Rainbow demanded.

“I have to agree with her.”

“Rarity? Really? You were rooting for him only ah couple o’ minutes ago.”

“I am only thinking rationally, Applejack.” Rarity and the alien watched each other. Rarity’s sense of detail absorbed everything. His body, his posture, his eyes, all of him was drunk in just a moment. “If he is indeed the alien, who else could it be? There aren’t any creatures quite like him.”

“That still does not change the fact he couldn’t have been there,” Barricade said. “I was schedule to work at ten and encountered him,” she nudged her head in his direction, “well before that. I don’t know what you saw, Fluttershy, but it couldn’t have been him.”

Barricade thought for a moment. “Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be wise to disregard this information. Corporal?” Corporal Shade had been silent the entire time. Saluting, he awaited his orders. “Take Fluttershy’s statement. The rest of you,” she turned to the remaining five, “step inside. It’s time to meet your new charge.”

Together they meandered into the open tent. The alien examined them curiously, while his gaze was returned with suspicion and outright disdain. Nevertheless, it did not bother the creature. Following Barricade, he walked to the center and plopped down on the grass. The tent was unremarkable in of itself, but the walls were lined with Night Guards waiting calmly for their prisoner.

“Secure the room,” Barricade called to the Magi waiting outside. A shimmering barrier enveloped the entire tent,locking the corporal and Fluttershy outside

Twilight made the brave first step towards the creature. “Hello... my name is Twilight Sparkle.” The alien blinked and locked his eyes with hers, but said nothing. “Uhhh... my name is Twilight Sparkle and I’m a student to Princess Celestia. We are here as diplomatic representative of Ponyville and Equestria as a whole in order to establish a common dialog and friendship between our races.”

“...”

Barricade stopped at the door before leaving. “I forgot to mention something. He doesn’t talk.” Barricade tapped the barrier and the Magi created a hole for her to walk through before sealing it once again.

“What!?” Twilight’s ears flattened against her skull and she moaned, “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“Come on, Twi; if we’re really gonna do this, you gotta think of somthin’.”

Twilight shrugged. “What do we do? I don’t know how to talk to a mute.” She laughed internally. “I wonder how Pinkie is going to take someone not being able to – Pinkie!?”

While Twilight was talking, Pinkie was rooting through her saddlebags and pulled out an apple. Balancing it on her nose, she pranced to the creature and tossed him the fruit. He caught it with a surprised look on his face, and he wasn’t the only one.

“Pinkie, what are you doing?” Rainbow whined.

“Listen up! Teacher Pinkie is about to begin class!” Pinkie plunged her hooves into the ground and dug small trenches in the dirt. The alien was now as baffled as the mares and even some of the soldiers.

Pinkie shot up, moist earth staining her hooves and dappling her coat. A single word was scratched into the dirt.

APPLE

“Apple, wittle walien.” She pointed towards the fruit. “Apple.”

The alien blinked, examining the apple in his large hands. Pinkie was bouncing on her hooves, waiting with bated breath for his response. Slowly, he extended a finger and drew his own text into the dirt.

He pointed towards the figure, and then to the apple. Twilight blinked and nodded in appreciation to Pinkie. “Okay; we’re getting somewhere.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Material Defender

Chapter 24: Enemy of My Enemy

Chapter 24: Enemy of My Enemy

Corporal Shade flew as fast as his wings could carry him. His low altitude forced him to brush against the heads and backs of those he passed, splattering rainwater and specks of mud with each flick of his tail. It was conduct that would have normally sent the lowly corporal into a bowing, scraping frenzy for such offenses, minor as they may be. None of that mattered to him. Tucked into the bottom of his saddlebags was a pair of scrolls, the results of a twenty minute interview with the most timid and demure pony he had ever met. The pegasus’ status as the daughter of his CO kept him on his best behavior, but the context and results of the conversation took every effort on his part to not immediately flee to the higher ups.

That scroll... if what was on it proved true.

“We are so bucked.”

To put it bluntly, it was above him. Last night, little, quiet Fluttershy had stumbled onto something far bigger than her or him. Eyes in the dark. A pony made of shadows. A blanketing fog that swallowed more than the thickest mist...

Shade skittered to a halt in front of the Military Intelligence Center. The tent was in a perpetual state of bedlam, no matter how many times ponies saw it. Clerks filed away notes and paperwork, their contents not even glanced over by the soldier. A magi slipped another a slip of paper, which was quickly pocketed. That pony stuck out in particular. It was not whom Shade intended to find, but he would do just as well.

“Professor Incantus!” The professor in his graying blond mane, pale gray coat, and glasses did not hear him over the noise and the current conversation in which he was deeply engaged.

“Make sure the guard duty shifts don’t stretch over eight hours. Magic seems to be one of the few aspects truly effective against this creature’s magic, and I don’t want our friends fatigue to be cause for an escape.

“Professor!” The second attempt caught his attention, divided as it may be. Hexxus’s companion prepared a response, but he lifted a hoof to silence him. Shade weaved through the rows of desks filled with unicorn clerks. “I have something for you. A report involving Ms. Fluttershy.”

The professor’s ears flicked, betraying curiosity, but not enough to task the matter seriously. “That is not my department, corporal. Please take it to – ”

“Pardon for interrupting, professor, but this is.” Shade slipped the rolled up documents and handed them to Hexxus. “Trust me, if you don’t know now, you will very soon.”

Inside a disused supply tent temporarily commandeered for its lack of usual activity, three individuals wordlessly worried. Outside, the study hum of conversation and clopping hooves filtered through the sturdy tent, although the room itself was barren save for the three and Shade in the nearby room. The white noise, while welcome, did not assist in digesting the information they had just received from the corporal’s report. The weight of what the they had just heard was as omnipresent as it was troublesome. Each granule of information, both hopeful and horrifying, froze their minds with curiosity, wonder, and fear.

Professor Hexxus stood near the center of the supply tent, quietly chewing a lip in thought. His graying hair hung over his eyes and he flicked his head back, clearing the obstruction. Captain Hawk stood immobile near the door, a wall of flesh blocking any pony desiring access. The remaining occupant, Second Lieutenant Skylar, was pacing in the corner.

Skylar had nearly demanded a blood pact to keep the corporal silent on the matter when he found out. Said corporal was in the adjacent room, yet cut off from prying ears with a Sound Silence spell from Hexxus. Hawk had been summoned as the closest liaison for Princess Luna, who had retired for the remainder of the day.

On the sixth day of March at nine-fifty p.m, Captain Barricade’s daughter, Fluttershy, left Golden Oaks Library. Her intended destination was to return to her place of residence outside of town. The civilian reported feelings of intense unease. The civilian initially concluded that such feelings were the result of fear of darkness and the thunderstorm, until it felt a threat more subconscious than corporeal.

The civilian fled from the town, hoping to escape the threat, but encountered a dead end. She intended to backtrack and find an alternate route, only to discover a lantern and the entity (Dubbed here on out as Subject One) she believed was pursuing her. Subject One gave her the command: “Stay in the light” before the civilian fled the entity with the lantern. Further questioning about the identity of Subject One was inconclusive, but the civilian affirmed that the entity had cyan eyes and possessed a pony body made of “shadows”.

At ten o’clock, the civilian encountered a pair of oddities dissimilar to Subject One. The first was a dense black fog containing solid particles. The second was a bipedal entity (Subject Two). The civilian reported Subject Two stalked her and its presence was heralded by the presence of the fog. The lantern light held the fog at bay momentarily, but it garnered enough time for her to escape Subject Two.

Further questioning deduced that Subject Two was a bipedal entity identical to the recently captured “Miner”, save for a pair of eyes that glowed bright white in the darkness.

Incident Report logged by: Corporal Night Shade, 229th Aerial Division

“So is he lying to us, or is something else going on?” Skylar asked the pair.

“Shade? Lie? His fortitude is questionable, but he is not a liar,” Hawk asserted.

“Not him. The alien. This... Miner.”

Hexxus held a hoof to his chin in thought. “To date, the Miner hasn’t spoken a word. If you are referring to him being the only of of his kind, he has yet to proclaim such a fact. Yes, we assumed he was alone, but...”

Hexxus trailed off, but Hawk finished the sentence for him, “We detected only two entities leaving the portal, so we did not anticipate more. An oversight on our part.”

“There are just too many unknowns. Too many questions, and the only one with any answers is unable to talk to us.” Hexxus sighed and let his eyes wander the tent.

Hexxus hopped up onto an empty chair and sat down, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly. He closed his eyes and listened to the slow, rhythmic thrumming of his heart. “This news is not our only problem now, anyway.” With another sliver of magic, he opened his saddlebags and removed a crumpled note. “I just recieved this.” Hawk snached it out of the air and began to read.

Incident Report

On 3/7/1012 at 07:00, staff sergeants Broodwing and Azazel, 106th, were on their way to report to their CO before encountering a tall entity believed to be the second escaped creature. The encounter was brief and the creature seemingly disappeared, further corroborating the evidence received by the Miner that the second creature can teleport. The pair did not have time to gather a complete description.

Continuing their journey to the surface, they discovered another fact. The Farlander Portal had been ignored by both creatures since its initial discovery, but no longer. A single spherical gemstone, iridescent green in color with an almond-shaped black tarnish, was inset in one of the bracket stones. The portal room guards were unaware of any activity, save for a small noise, but could not discern any further evidence of intrusion. As of this report, it is unknown how the creature managed the deed so silently, if it truly was the second creature at all. I recommend immediate anti-teleportation magic be deployed in the chamber and all critical areas.

Diamond Solitaire, Council of Magic

“So the creature has finally made its move,” Hawk concluded.

“Completing the portal,” Skylar added. “But to what end?”

“Pardon?” Hexxus asked.

“I skimmed the report given to us by Ms. Sparkle, and she brought up the same concerns. Why create a portal and enter Equestria, only to immediately create another? “

“You are assuming the purpose is to leave this place, but what if the intent is something else? What if, by chance, the Farlander Portal’s true intent is to bring others to Equestria?” Hawk hummed, a deep, throaty noise that resembled a growl more than anything. Light filtered through the crack in the tent flap and onto his silver mane, giving the effect he surrounded in a halo. “But that comes with the problem: why two? Why two creatures? Are they scouts? Are the embittered enemies? Did they come willingly or were they forced?”

“What of these two new creatures? Could they have something to do with this?”

“Likely, Second Lieutenant. I do not believe the appearance of two more creatures is an accident.”

“Three,” Hexxus chimed in. “The Canterlot attacker was a creature never seen before.”

Hawk huffed and this time truly did growl. “We are being played. I do not like being a pawn to a game I cannot even understand.” In an uncharacteristic breach of character, Hawk bucked a hoof, sending an empty trash bucket into a cabinet. The bucket crumpled upon impact and twirled into a darker corner of the room. Neither Shade nor the ponies outside payed them any mind. A Sound Silence could prevent the outflow of sound, but not the inflow.

“Perhaps we are looking at this the wrong way,” Skylar offered. He had ceased his pacing. Hexxus breathed a sigh of relief; the sound of his clanking plate mail was starting to get on his nerves. “We keep returning to the initial pair. Let’s turn this on its head. What about these two new players?”

‘Celestia damn it,’ Hexxus thought. Skylar had started pacing again and continued. “There was one creature pursuing Ms. Fluttershy, right after a creature comes to her at the exact time she acquires something to fight off the threat. Light. ‘Stay in the light’ it said. It knew the creature, directly or indirectly, and was passively helping a pony resist it.”

“You believe they are enemies?” Hawk asked. It was a novel thought, enough to give him pause.

“I believe so. Perhaps the Miner and the Farlander are pawns themselves in a game by these two new players.”

“Now now, we are forgetting one important fact: Ms. Fluttershy's testimony. We are coming up with theories under the impression that her retelling is without flaw. I have read her personal file; she is shy to the point of agoraphobia and prone to experience irrational fear.” Hexxus furled his brow in thought. It was quite the puzzle indeed, especially due to the lack of verifiable truth.

“And an Element of Harmony and one of the diarach’s most trusted confidants,” Hawk added. “I, too, question the exact accuracy of events, but I believe we can take her words at face value.”

“I’m still not sure...” Hexxus closed his eyes and sighed, trying to subdue the migraine creeping up on his consciousness. Shoving the dull throbbing to the back on his mind, he continued with the conversation. “Back on topic... these other two entities, what can we make of them?”

“One threatened Ms. Fluttershy, while the other helped her. That suggests the two are enemies,” Skylar started.

“No sign of their presence has been recorded since or before this incident,” Hawk added.

“Meaning that this was an act and a counterstroke. The shadow pony, knowing of the biped’s motives, made a preemptive move,” Hexxus concluded.

The trio were silent for the longest time. The quiet breathing in the other room was almost drowned out by the thundering sky and equally thunderous hooves outside. A flash of lightning, and a flash of inspiration.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Hexxus and Hawk turned to the Second Lieutenant. The non sequitur threw them both for a momentary loop, but they understood quick enough to catch the gist of what was running through the soldier’s head.

Hawk vocalized the sentiment. “That’s some dangerous thinking. We cannot even begin to fathom what these two are scheming.”

Hexxus reinforced Hawk’s claim. “Agreed. While the shadow pony may have assisted Ms. Fluttershy, his or her reasons for doing so have a high chance of being selfish. Why not ask us for help? Why skulk around in the shadows and play an equally insidious game?”

“Can you honestly say that the idea does not appeal to you?” Skylar stomped a hoof in emphasis. “I don’t know about you, but I am tired of being in the dark, blindly scrambling for ideas. Canterlot was attacked. A creature is completing a portal for Celestia knows what reason. I have half a mind to march right into that biped’s containment chamber and drag along a couple of inquisitors. That creature fell through the same portal. The same reason the second creature came to this world still applies to him. He even gave us a physical description of the creature to work with. Can you not say that he may not be as innocent as we believe? He may not be innocent, and even if he is, we can’t talk to him. This shadow pony is the only one that we can talk to that know what is actually going on. It might be able to help us.”

The thought, as aggressive and brutal as it may have been, gave them pause. “The Miner has indeed been a little too cooperative for a metaphorical fish out of water,” Hexxus thought.

“That’s going too far.” Hawk puffed out his chest. “An inquiry is beyond a plausible course of action at the moment. Princess Luna must be warned, as does Captain Barricade and the Archmage. We have a possible ally, but that is all. We can make no further assumptions based on the data currently presented to us. The princess must decide if we petition this shadow pony for aid, and do so without somehow garnering the attention of Subject Two.”

Despite the assertion, Skylar and Hexxus did not look convinced, but they dropped the subject. That did not vanquish such sinister thoughts. As strong as logic and commands may be, an idea was as infectious as the most virulent plague.

An idea was very hard to kill...

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Maverick Frond, Material Defender

Chapter 26: Princess of the Night

Chapter 26: Princess of the Night

The silvery light of the moon hung over the forest canopy. The Everfree Forest never slept, even if Celestia’s warm sun made the more dangerous monsters hide in the darker depths. Chittering and rustling could be heard from all across the forest, though little could be seen through the thick brush and stout trees. Great, heaving footsteps from some behemoth creature echoed from the deeper portions of the forest, but it was, luckily, too preoccupied to venture closer to pony civilization. The ponies closest to the forest were not residents from Ponyville proper; a single alicorn and a small collection of Night Guards lay held up in a dilapidated stone castle.

Much of the rubble and languor that had taken over the Everfree Castle had been cleared and moved, but few ponies dwelt in the castle, and those that did did not wish to be heard. The once magnificent and splendid halls that once thrived a millenium ago had fallen into a state of extreme disrepair, but the sorry state of the castle was not the reason the smattering of ponies was there. Their meeting was as clandestine as it was secret, as those involved knew a great game of lives and danger was being played without their knowledge.

Princess Luna sat on a simple velvet cushion in the throne room. The throne itself had cracked and splintered over the long years, so she did not mind. The castle was the base of operations to search for the miner. Now that he had been captured, Luna deemed it best to reorganize her resources back at the garrison and continue from there. She and her small entourage were the last ones to leave. Normally, she would have been among the first, but Captain Hawk’s report forced to her wait until they were alone in order to discuss events in more detail.

The throne room itself felt damp and cold, despite the roaring hearths lining the walls. Such blazes would undoubtedly attract monsters, but they were deep in the castle and were not destined to stay for long. Vines snaked along the walls, curling their tendrils into the rocks, seeking any foothold in order to extend their voluminous growth.

Luna waited in silence, pondering on what she had just heard from Captain Hawk. Lightning Chaser and Professor Hexxus Incantus stood further back. Hexxus’ eyes drooped. He was not used to staying up so late, even under such stressful times. Hawk and Lightning looked as refreshed as ever, a benefit of being nocturnal and carrying a soldier’s stamina.

“So...” Luna finally broke the silence purveying the wide throne room. “We are the pawns between two separate beings. The board is in motion.” There were two aliens, and one likely hated the other. Now there were two more creatures, and they were as sly as Discord himself.

“The question is: who is this shadow pony that came to Fluttershy in her hour of need?”

“We thought it prudent not to question anypony just yet, at least not until you were debriefed on the situation, princess,” Hawk replied. “As of yet, we do not have any immediate suspects on either’s identity. The alien described by the biped is similar, but if his depiction can be taken at face value, it is much too tall to be Ms. Fluttershy's attacker. The mare herself does not believe the biped to be the same creature as her attacker, either.”

“Can the Element be trusted?” Lightning asked. She picked at the bandage wrapped around her head before lowering her hoof. Hemos’ warning was still fresh in her mind.

“That was my thought exactly. While I do not doubt Fluttershy's integrity, her reliability is in question,” Hexxus added.

“I will personally vouch for Fluttershy,” Luna declared, eyeing Hexxus coolly.

“I beg your pardon if you believe I insinuated ill thoughts against Ms. Fluttershy, Highness. That was not my intent.”

“Understood.” Luna’s face did not change in the slightest. “And it was a wise choice to not question ponies so early. The shadow pony’s secrecy worries me greatly.”

“How so, princess?” Hexxus asked.

“It would expose it,” Lightning, not Luna, replied. “If this chessmaster values secrecy so much, it might be for a very good reason, rather than to avoid the attention of the crown. If this second being, this white eyes, will strike if the shadow pony’s identity and location become known, we know not what the collateral damage may be if the two start fighting. As long as they wish to remain in the shadows for now, we are safe.” Lighting snorted. “Until they get what they want, anyway.”

“Ms. Chaser is correct. Until more information is revealed on the matter, I do not wish for this shadow pony to be revealed to anypony outside of those that know the secret. Understood?”

The trio bowed. “Yes, Highness.”

Hexxus, before Luna continued, raised his voice after he raised his head. “Pardon, but I have been curious as to something. This shadow pony disguised its body and voice to remain hidden. Why approach Ms. Fluttershy at all? Revealing itself and its forbidden knowledge seems quite counterintuitive if he or she wished to remain hidden. Here we are now, discussing what to do about that very same being.”

“The shadow doesn’t want to see ponies getting hurt,” Chaser answered simply.

“Or the shadow needs her alive,” Hawk added. “It seems to fit best. Only now it comes out of hiding? Bah, I don’t buy it. Its hooves were forced to save her for some reason. It needs her. For what, I am not certain.”

“Both plausible theories,” Luna said. “Whatever the reason may be, the shadow pony acted with surety that I would not make the fateful decision to reveal its presence to the public.” Luna could not help but smile, both out of admiration and anger and having her reactions being read before she made them. “Quite a clever move, no matter the objective.”

A small draft hissed softly through a crack in the walls and collapsed ceiling. It ruffled fur and feather alike, caressing each and every one of them. Some shivered, some weathered the chill. Only wind... the storm should be picking up again soon.

“As for this Farlander, we shall do nothing.”

“It wants us to know,” Hawk agreed. Lighting accorded with his conclusion.

Hexxus, however, was not up to speed. “Forgive me for not being the best tactician, but how do you mean?”

“The Farlander has yet to make a move itself, but when it finally did, it did so in one of the few places that was not only heavily guarded, but would be noticed immediately. Whatever it’s up to, it’s doing it now and either wants us to know, or doesn’t care that we know. Plus, it confirmed our suspicions it’s a teleporter simply by entering and escaping a room on lockdown.”

Hexxus’ eyes widened in dawning comprehension. “Ah, I see now.”

The room was silent once again, but the time for talking was over. Luna rose to her hooves slowly, letting the blood to flow to her extremities before she started walking. Hexxus scooped up the pillow and doused the hearths with his magic and followed her. Hawk and Lightning took up the rear guard, keeping a wary eye and ear on the shadows and noises from the depths.

Their hooves echoed in silence until they reached the decrepit stone courtyard. The land had retaken that section of the castle in the name of mother nature. Large patches of grass and tenacious weeds had wormed their way through cracks that formed with the passage of time. Tiny critters scurried to their dens to avoid the larger intruders, not knowing that one of them was older than the castle itself.

“What shall be done?” Hexxus asked to break the silence. The night, usually so comforting to the stallion, was making him twitch in nervousness. Talk of cloak-and-dagger machinations lodged behind lies and shadows did little to ease frayed nerves and lack of sleep.

Luna, however, did not respond with silence or a quiet affirmation of secrecy, but a smile. Hawk blinked. It wasn’t a common sight to see Luna smiling with such open delight. The last time she had done so was after last Nightmare Night when she befriended half the town.

“Why, professor, I am going to ask for a moment of this shadow pony’s time, of course.” The mild breeze twirled her star-ridden mane as she walked. With her eyes closed and a deep breath of the moist forest air, Luna was nearly prancing in contentment. The night swayed her emotions away from the depressing and irksome emotions the report made her feel only moments ago.

“Truly? We know not where this mysterious benefactor is, let alone how to contact it.”

Luna smirked. “There is a way, magus.”

“How is that possible?” Hexxus pressed. “Ms. Fluttershy’s attacker was quite persistent. If we alert the media for an audience with this shadow pony, than we would undoubted catch the attention of the white eyed one, and the fallout would be likely severe.”

“I wish to contact the shadow pony, magus, but I did not say I would make my invitation public.” Luna and the trio exited the courtyard and the external castle walls. Just outside, a single chariot waited with a quartet of Night Guards waiting patiently harnessed. “Well... not exactly. ‘Stay in the Light’? Let’s see how it enjoys the company of the Princess of the Night.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by:Maverick Frond, Material Defender

Chapter 27: A Good Mare Goes to War

Chapter 27: A Good Mare Goes to War

Seven days. Seven days had passed since the skies above Ponyville opened and closed in a violent maelstrom of obsidian stone and ruby energy. Seven days, yet those seven days were filled with busy minds and marching hooves. It was not everyday that an entirely new species dropped by, and only a spitting distance away from the capital.

Six days. Six days had passed since the discovery that not one, but two aliens walked Equestrian soil. One, a lonely miner and craftsman so far away from home. One, a monstrously tall and skeletal-thin shadow that could not stand the sight of another creature seeing its eyes, lest it be provoked into a berserker rage. And, unknown to all, a monster older than the very ground under their feet had come. Upon the eve of that day, a portal had been forced open. A conduit between realms and worlds had been procured, and out came a beast far more ancient and vile than the worst monsters that walked the Everfree Forest.

It was such an easy feat for the leviathan to change forms and hide. It wasn’t even a challenge. It didn’t even require conscious thought. The monster simply willed it to happen and it did. There was little that the creature desired he could do that he wasn’t capable of. For the moment, however, his mortal form glided across the shining capital of the pony nation.

It could learn plenty from the cities great civilizations built. Canterlot itself was a jewel to behold by anyone’s standard. Its glittering walls were composed of solid rock without curve or crevasse. Mountainous pillars carved from the very earth pierced the sky, hubristic pillars of vanity and declarations of master craftsman.

Great towers of ivory adorned the castle itself. It was a structure built to house the finest of lords and masters, kings and emperors, gods and devils. The wide walls were plastered with masterwork craftsmanship, from tapestries swallowing entire walls to urns crafted from precious metals with engravings the width of a hair.

In a room that could swallow most domiciles with its expansive girth, across a tongue of red silk weaved across the great seas, lay a throne carved from solid gold. On that pedestal, the lives of millions were protected, subjected, and soothed. Upon that throne, kin goddesses ruled

Ah, Canterlot. The Shining Capital. The City of the Rising Sun. Mountain of the Earth.

So why were its residents so... disgusting?

Era’doth glided across the polished castle stones in the midst of a fog of inky darkness. The Void Fog, as that pathetic flesh bag entitled it, was more than just a shadow lurking in the darkest depths of the Overworld, it was him. It was his raw essence, his majesty, magnificence, and knowledge. The obsidian cloak more than just ensnared and protected him from harm, it was a simple extension of himself. The filth that surrounded him that had the gall to call itself life couldn’t fathom how such an artless ability could be a natural extension of a mortal form. He existed. The Void Fog existed. It and he were separate, but conjoined. One, but one of many. Neither could escape, however. Binding the Fog, binding the god, were several lengths of chains made of light. Great spikes pierced his skin, forcibly binding the chains to his detestable mortal body. Eons of thrashing and clawing, building his strength only to have it dissipate against the constrictions were all for nothing. He could not escape the magic restricting his power. That was, of course, why he was there. Just a little longer...

...Just how did the construct link to his mind? Interesting mystery to be sure...

“I can’t believe they got that alien thing so easily,” one Royal Guardpony told his comrade. The pair were standing at attention in the great halls in Canterlot Castle. Although few nobles and workers ventured so deep within the walls, and even fewer civilians, it was not just cause to drop their guard so easily. Nevertheless, the biped gliding towards them with a billowing cloud of shadow in its wake did not disturb them in the slightest. The sound of rattling chains echoed like some deathly phantasm, but the sound failed to alert the pair.

“Hardly. The thing was only a punk. I heard it got taken down by only one pony. Can you believe that shit?”

“You’re pulling my leg.”

“I swear!”

Era’doth’s face remained expressionless. They were nothing. Less than nothing. The concept of an absolute void required more contemplation than the waste of life that stood before him. He simply willed himself to not be seen by the two mortals and he wasn’t.

Disgusting, vapid wastes of carbon. All of them.

The Void Fog snuffed out the candles and torches lining the walls, pulling the two out of their animated discussion.

“Huh. Draft?”

“This deep in the castle? Not likely. Plus, I felt nothing.”

“You wouldn’t feel your wife sucking you off if she didn’t use smoke signals.”

Era’doth glided past the pair. The Void Fog curled around the two, its vaporous, opaque cloud gently sliding around and through their bodies. The pair shivered.

“Maybe you’re right about the draft.”

“Right?” The other made a complex motion with his hooves to ward off evil. “Felt like somethin’ just walked on my grave.”

Such small minds. They couldn’t even begin to fathom his existence, his glory. He was an entity beyond the scope of simple life forms. Their knowledge of the normal was so razor thin, it was laughable. They couldn’t understand life in its smallest degree, so how could they possibly know about a god such as him? The maggots and corpses of animals lay long forgotten beneath the cold stones of Canterlot Castle. Grease floated in their guts, the last remains of once vibrant life. They slew monsters by the thousands in order to make room for themselves. Eggs? Chicken? These creatures consumed their surroundings like a plague, a thoughtless construct of meat and bone that only knew how to devour its environment in order to survive. Mastery of magic? They knew nothing. Sooner or later, their powers would consume and scrape the world clean to stave off the inevitable destruction looming over them. A coward fights death. A fool ignores it.

Era’doth couldn’t help but be impressed. Some called him a monster, but the ponies... they were truly something rotten. He was surprised these creatures didn’t just kill themselves out of the sheer horror of it all.

His body glided slowly down the wide halls. He was now so deep in the castle that the torches were not lit. That small detail did not bother him in the slightest. He didn’t need light to see. He didn’t even need eyes to see. The world around him was painted in such vividity and splendor that human or pony eyes could never hope to quantify or understand. The raw power that flowed through the universe, the gravitational constants and coded universal laws were simple tools for the god.

Despite his sight beyond sight, there was a blinding shroud across his gaze. One above him several levels, and another to his back, many leagues away. Celestia and Luna, they called them. Physical goddesses. Most that obtained that title from the worms worshipping the ground they walked on didn’t deserve such a title. But these two... they were different. The creatures were just candles compared to his own soul, a great, blazing inferno. It was like comparing night and day. He was beyond them, a creature so different that comparisons would mean nothing.

But those two...

He felt them as soon as he entered this new realm. In a mountain piercing a thunderous sky, inside a cave lined with scattered gems and precious stones, he entered the world through a portal of his own creation. His true body, expansive as it was incomprehensible to mortals, forced its way through. Sending that shadow, that weak-willed biped first was only a test to see if it could work. Than once again near the Shining Capitol with a lone creeper. It would do him no good to harm himself and come prematurely; he needed to know his portals could work across realms, not just worlds.

Through the haze of a new world, he felt them. One as brilliant and blinding as a star. One as dark and sly as the blackest vacuum of space. They were like him, or as close to his kind as the world would allow. The haze of ignorance and weakness did not shackle them. Under ordinary circumstances, Era’doth might wish to convene with a fellow god. It was not to be, however. They were guardians of a great treasure, one that he needed. They would stop him, and he knew it.

As much as he hated restricting himself, it was a necessity. He couldn’t kill the creature the Seal of Harmony was bound to without suspiciously drawing upon too much power and alerting an alicorn. His true form was strange and frightening to them and would draw attention. Unwanted attention. If the ponies were all he needed to face, the situation would not require such discretion, but the alicorns were strong. They may not be able to kill him, or maybe even wound him, but they would certainly restrict him. Such bothersome entities were best avoided, as undesirable as it was. He had taken great care to avoid the their attention, to keep them in the dark as long as possible. The Endermen had been proven surprisingly effective in that regard. Curious... why did it enter after he forced the miner construct through the Nether Portal? Whatever the reason, he did not care. His thoughts were on on his fleshy mortal body. It was a necessity as well. Despite it being bound in the same luminescent chains as his perfect, immortal body, the smaller, more compact body was easier to use in such a restrictive environment. Suppressing his true body and wearing the form of a humanoid was better to blend in. His real body tended to drive most mortals insane with the cognitive dissonance. Not that he cared.

Enemies... They would burn with the rest of them.

His goal was close; he could feel it. His sight beyond sight told him that. Heralded by clanking irons, he glided forward on the ephemeral fog. A great chamber lay before him, but that was not what he was there for. On the far end of the room was a single door, behind which lay his prize: a Seal of Harmony, an object capable of recursive magical cell dispersion. It was a single battery with six points of focus that amplified one magical charge to incalculable strength. The mortals likely did not have any idea the kind of power such a tool was capable of. With it, a coward could become a king. A king could become a god.

And an imprisoned god could finally shatter the curse the prevented him from harnessing his full power. Oh, the siren call to be free... To finally be able to explore the heavens once again, to traverse the boundaries of reality and thought with only the desires and will of the god of creation to drive him. All that separated him from the chamber was a simple door, which he phased through without a thought.

The chains rattled once again as he glided forward. No creatures guarded the room, not that they would be any more distracting than a speck of dust. The construct was far away, as was one of the alicorns. The other was far above him in the castle. It was a simple task of opening the door, destroying whatever wards protected the seal, and claiming his prize. The spikes drove into his flesh, ever present reminders of the spells binding him. Such seals on his own power were impossible to break on his own. He needed help, and that was what the Seal of Harmony as for. It took so long to search realms and worlds for a possible means of breaking the seals, and now he was mere inches from his prize.

The Void Fog billowed around Era’doth, even as the chains constricted it towards his body. As predicted, alarm spells were instantly raised upon detecting the foreign magic. Such simple spells were easy to overcome. He didn’t even need to place a counter spell, only overwhelm them with the sheer volume of magic from his own internal stores. The first layer of spells on the chamber shattered.

These alicorns were not so easy beaten. As the first wave fell, a second took its place in an instant. He could see the magic coursing through the chamber. Each spell was fed separately, providing a modular strength to them. More power for each spell made them difficult to brute force open. The second layer was still much too weak to pose a challenge. He was a god! Did they honestly suspect such pitiful wards to be able to stop him so easily?

With all his might, he thrust his own power at the wards. The world around him shifted under the intensity of such strength and the second wave shattered as easily as the first. Before his eyes sprung up a third layer of seals and a second alarm spell. He crushed that one as easily as the first, but his magical momentum halted. The third wave buckled under his might, but held.

So... they weren’t so worthless after all. Someone was capable of designing respectable defensive shielding.

Bones shifted, flesh burst. In less than the time than it took for a neuron to gather an electrical charge, the bipedal body exploded into ash. A great behemoth stood in its place, the same colossus that had forced its way into Equestria six days prior. It was impossible to completely describe the beast in conventional terms. It was a jumbled collection of exposed flesh, limbs, sinew, and tissue, all lined with black pustules and hardened scales that shone with every hue of the rainbow.

The beast launched itself at the chamber. The room warped under the magical strain. Bonds of matter shifted and rearranged in the monsters attempt to destroy the irritating barriers placed to protect Equestria’s sacred treasure. Tendrils of magic, billions of them, wove and wound their way into the third wave of wards and ripped them to pieces.

An alarm spell sprung from the fourth layer and was promptly destroyed. Than another. Than another. Rather than a barrier, an endless stream of alert spells materialized one right after the other in a neverending cycle. The beast lashed out at the chamber, shattering the wall’s detailed masonry and ornate stonework. It did not wish to be discovered, so disabling the alert spells was a priority... but there were no more barriers surrounding the chamber.

With a victorious howl, the beast swept a collection of limbs to tear open the door. The alert spells slipped through his net, but that was the plan. If he could just open the door –

A pulse of magic propelled Era’doth away from the chamber. A trap within a trap. The barrier was back at full strength, and now others were aware he was near. He could feel the magic and life shifting like some great war machine. The alicorn knew he was near, as well as the little flesh bags that worshipped it. Upon being discovered, he felt the distinct urge to slaughter the maggots approaching him until he had time to rework and refocus his strength into destroying the remaining wards.

The monster’s senses flared once more. The Equestrian god was rapidly approaching. The urge to kill the weak god was strong, but it was not time. Not yet, but that didn’t mean Era’doth the Destroyer would leave without impressing the error of facing him.

Masses of sticky flesh coated with vile, acidic sludge contracted and heaved. Once more, Era’doth bellowed a challenge to the creatures. Let them know the grave mistake of interfering with a god. Let them know every ounce of pain and anguish involved with magical chains digging into his flesh for eons without end. Every iota of pain and frustration fed the roar. The world heaved with his torment, glass and stone burst beneath his rage.

It was a promise, a declaration of intent and annihilation.

I will not fall, it said.

Look upon me and despair.

Celestia entered the shattered remains of a once glorious antechamber for the Elements of Harmony. It was... completely unrecognizable. The ornate stone pillars that held up the high ceiling, the stained glass windows detailing Equestria’s greatest moments and fallen foes, and the polished stone floor leading to an enchanted cell containing one of Equestria’s greatest treasures all had one thing in common: they were no more.

The entire room had been turned to glass...

The shattered pillars and damaged ceiling had rained tiny daggers on the floor. The particulates had been cleared away before her majesty entered, but that did not reduce the awful shock of what had occurred. In mere moments, an entire room at the very heart of her country had been completely destroyed, and there wasn’t a single sign of the intruder. There was no demand for power or land, no declaration of war, or even a stated desire to watch Equestria burn. There was nothing but wanton devastation.

Celestia could see into the lower levels; two solid feet of solid rock and metal instantly turned into transparent glass. Incredible, and terrifying.

Celestia walked forward into one of her favorite hallways. The pennants,flags and hanging plants were all transfigured into glass, at least those that remained. Ponies bowed as she passed, most carrying the same look of blank shock. Their precious capital city had been violated. Most ponies were simple curators there only few cleaning up the sizable mess. Glass shards lay everywhere, and it took several unicorns working in tandem in order to pick up the dust and minute pieces. The rest were magi or guards, there for protection and investigating what had only just occurred.

There was one saving grace, however. If an intruder was this deep into the castle, he or she must be after only one thing, and they fortunately did not get it. In the center of a glass crater, a large stone cube sealed by a single sliding door. Some of the outer finery and stonework had been transformed into glass, but the room was structurally sound, and sealed. The wall behind the chamber had been smashed to pieces, revealing another room in Castle Canterlot. That, too had been transformed thoroughly into glass, while the center of the devastation, the Chamber of the Elements, lay in that tiny crater. The chamber listed to one side dangerously in the hole, but there was nopony inside to worry about.

Thank the heavens...

“Princess,” court mage Shooting Star approached the monarch and bowed.

“What happened?” Celestia demanded. Her voice was carefully smooth and steady, but that only emphasized the tension it carried.

“I...” Star laughed tiredly. “Where to begin? Somepony, or something, penetrated Canterlot defense and Castle Canterlot security without tripping any alarms or being seen by anypony.”

Celestia continued walking. Star smoothed her Council of Magic cloak and followed in step. “The Elements of Harmony are the assumed target. As the chamber is still intact, the intruder failed to retrieve them before alarms and reinforcements were raised. How the intruder escaped remains a mystery. How they entered remains a mystery. We detected no magic of any kind, at least none that we recognize. We even searched for traces of the Miner and the Farlander, but turned up with nothing. Who or whatever did this is very resourceful, and terrifyingly powerful.” As if by fate, Celestia’s hoof clacked against the stone-turned-glass floor and splintered it. A dozen images of an alicorn and a sky blue unicorn stared back at them.

“After Discord escaped, I reinforced the enchantments upon the Elements of Harmony so that only myself or my sister could open the door.”

“Not to question your abilities, Highness, but if the intruder had a few more minutes, they may have succeeded.” Ponies, both cleaners and Royal Guardponies by the dozens, all gave the listing chamber worried glances. “Who – what could have done this? Discord?”

“Discord is safely locked away in the Canterlot Gardens,” Celestia reaffirmed. “Assurances of his imprisonment was one of my first goals once word of this disaster reached my ears. This is some new foe.” Celestia’s eyes were drawn to a pair of Royal Guardponies being examined by a field medic near the fissure between the damaged wall.

“These two were closest on scene,” Star said, “and were stationed down the hallway. They claim to have seen and heard nothing until their eardrums ruptured by the sound. As described by them by parchment and ink and as half the castle will attest, it was and I quote “the most god-awful roar, the likes of which Equestria has never heard.” We’re not quite sure if the sound was a threat or some form of communication. Luckily, we had some magi in rooms in the upper levels with quick wits who managed to record certain fractions of the noise. Analysis is still ongoing, but it crossed several wavelengths. It certainly wasn’t natural.”

Celestia nodded and looked surveyed her subjects. The nagging tension building in their heads was compounding slowly, building to greater and greater peeks ever since the first portal opened one week ago. “It tears at my heart to see my subjects and lands hurt so grievously when Canterlot should be named firmly our home. We shouldn’t need to fear the dark like this...”

Celestia sighed. Since she spoke, guards, cleaners, and magi alike ceased their tasks and looked upon their ruler. They were watching, waiting for the decision to be handed down. When evil sought the hearts of the good, it was then a ruler must rise.

“Send word to General Tempest, Shooting Star. Mobilize the Royal Guard. If Equestria must face the horrors of war, it will not face it like a cowardly foal. Let this destroyer know we do not bow to the will of tyrants and monsters.” Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “Equestria will prepare for battle.”

Cadance stood in the throne room nervously. There was nopony there, except for a few regulatory guards and a court mage, but, until somepony approached her, she was required to do nothing.

“Court mage, as soon as any discoveries as to the source of the disturbance, I would very much wish to be informed.”

The mage bowed in acknowledgement. “Yes, Highness. If you wish, I could send a courier to your private quarters. Open court is no longer open at this time.”

That would be preferable. Auntie Celestia was originally supposed to be the one holding court, but she had left in a flash. Cadance could feel the pull of some foreign spellflash burst in front of her face. Cadance recognized an alarm spell, followed by the most horrid, reverberating cry she had ever heard. Ponies shouted in pain and covered their sensitive ears. Celestia acted fast, warding the throne room to ward the sound, but it had died within moments.

Cadance did not like to be told to stay behind for her own safety, but she grudgingly did so. Holding court was a simple job, but very dull. Cadance chided herself, for she took a perverse pleasure at not having to meet with ponies due to the recent attack. The guilt was fleeting, however. Sleep had been evasive once more, no doubt from the stress of recent events. Although the capture and cooperation of one creature was a boon, that did not stop the headaches, nausea, and today’s urge to wake up and empty her stomach.

“That would be most appreciated, magi. Have the news sent to my quarters and Captain Armor as soon as possible.”

The magi bowed in acquiescence. “You two shall be the first to know, Highness.”

Cadance rose and walked down the steps and carpet. Butterscotch rose to follow, but Cadance waved her off. “I will be fine; take your break early Butterscotch.” The maid’s face lit up in delight and she nodded enthusiastically. Cadance chuckled.

The walk back to her room was uneventful, but tense. What few ponies that remained in the wide halls looked to the floor and over their shoulders with a fearful looks. She couldn’t blame them; even she felt a slight chill over her shoulder.

In fact... the stones were cold. Freezing cold. Bone-chillingly cold. Cadance sighed and her breath frosted in the air. Tiny hairs on the tip of her muzzle crystallized with frozen air. That feeling hadn’t diminished. What only moments ago was a twitch in the back of her skull become an unbearable, oppressive cloud. Blackness clouded the edge of her eyes. Something was there. Something –

Nothing. Cadance whirled around. Nothing was there, The chill that had only just frozen her soul had transformed into the pleasant warmth the pervaded the castle. She could have sworn - sensed - something behind her...

“Get a hold of yourself, Cadance.” She would have bet her monthly stipend on it, but there was nothing. Just nothing...

Cadance entered her quarters with her head over her shoulder. Her quarters were as comforting and pleasant as ever. The bed and floors were cleaned and cleared of whatever meager mess she may have caused. Mornings were never a good time for her.

Cadance was beginning to regret sending Butterscotch away. “You’re not a filly anymore,” she told herself. She needed a bath, but she was old enough to perform such a simple task on her own. First, she needed to remove her finery. Approaching the vanity, she latched onto her necklace with her magic, before biting back a scream.

There was... something in the reflection of her mirror. Lodged in an unnaturally dark corner of her room, a pair of blazing white eyes met hers. She could not see its body in the darkness, but the eyes were very high for a pony, almost as tall as Celestia. It tilted its head to the side, its face masked by shadows.

Cadance whirled around to face the intruder, only it was gone. Cadance’s magic lit up and grabbed a hold of the rope that would ring the bell that would summon the maids and guards... but it was gone. Another sliver of magic shot out to the door, test the ancient brass handle. Still locked. The windows were, too; Cadance liked her privacy when she retired to her quarters.

Still grasping the rope, Cadance made several slow, hesitant steps into her room. She was afraid, but curiosity mingled with the fear into an intoxicating cocktail. The tiny clip-clop of her hooves was muted against the soft carpet, but her rapidly beating heart thudded like thunderclaps.

Stop, her mind told her. Not safe. Not smart. Danger. Run.

Cadance stopped walking. She was next to her bed, halfway between the shadowy corner and the door leading to safety. Investigate, or flee?

Clang!

Cadance tugged the rope and teleported outside her room. Whatever it was, if it was even still in there, she wanted no part of it. The rustling of armor, maids, and flash of teleporting unicorns quickly filled the hallway, but it was no use; the room was already empty by the time the entered. Unicorn horns flashed with light, receding all the hidden shadows that dwelt within.

The monster was gone, and its attack thwarted. But unknown to Cadance and Celestia, a new plan was in motion, for Cadance had just given it the means to take the Elements once and for all.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Material Defender, Cor Thunder

Author's Note

Hello! I have something to say.

I am in need of a prereader and an editor. Spotting mistakes in one's own works becomes a little problematic at times, so I need some editing help. For all those interested, please send me a PM with your interest and any past editing jobs you have taken. I'd normally search through the Prereder's document, but At the End has become quite long and complex, and requires someone who knows the story and lore better than a fresh face. This also comes with the benefit of reading the chapters before anyone else. Always a plus.

Chapter 28: Words

Chapter 28: Words

It had been a very long time since I first entered this realm. Four hundred days? Five hundred? The distorted sense of time had wrecked utter havoc on my own internal chronometer. As an Overworld day and a day in this new land were so different and the time so skewed, I could no longer discern with uncontested accuracy the precise time. The days were long and warm, the nights were long and cool. Using my own clock, I no longer had any idea how long I had walked the earth; the margin of error was simply too large to produce an accurate guess. Judging solely on the slow rise and fall of the sun, however, I had just entered my seventh day. Why were the days and nights so long?

I knew not how, but those creatures, those... ponies, as they called themselves, did not seem to mind the distended days and nights. I routinely received visits from several of them in my impromptu prison. The cost of survival was losing my edge, and I payed with my freedom. I did not hold ill will toward the ponies in the slightest, and it took a long time to discover why. I fully understood the perspective of the damaged and violated parties. I had come into a world, sword swinging at phantasmal foes and ghostly apparitions that were no more than fearful constructs of my frightened mind. I had acted in poor judgement, and behaved with the mindset of a disgraceful cur. I had harmed more than one pony, both by accident and by intent. I had almost killed Barricade – I discovered that was her true name in the intervening four days, not Barrakade.

But that did not rationalize why I felt so calm about my own loss of freedoms. I had lived my entire life in the expansive Overworld, where I could command and create anything I wished. I had built cities to house thousands, massive domes that could swallow the entire meager town I was but a pearl’s throw away from. These ponies’ accomplishments paled in comparison to my own, but I did not really care. Building was just something I... did. I did it because I could, because I felt the slightest whimsy and acted on that impulse. There was little weight or emotional investment involved. That was why I admired their accomplishments, those few I had seen. The vision the goddess gave me told of a great city to the north built from stone. I had built hundreds myself, but the ponies did not have access to my powers. They could not command and conjure on a whim, which only served to accentuate the love, devotion, and care for their accomplishments. I could build a house in a minute, and they in a week. Both serve identical purposes, but one holds the love and care of those involved in its creation and for those whom it is intended.

I had put such little stock in my work. I always had the chance to pick up where I left off in the Overworld no matter what, but now that I was in a tent guarded by quadrupeds, that chance was suspended. I should have taken offense at not being able to do what I wished when I wished, but I didn’t. As I said, I had no emotional investment. I simply did not care.

I had nothing, but I did not know I had nothing. I was trapped in an endless cycle of monotony and boredom with only the desires of a madman to guide me. I did what I wished, but now no more. These creatures had freed me.

It was strange when I came to that realization. My grand cities, my massive constructs of work fueled by vanity and fleeting desire held no weight. I did not wish to make them now that I did not have the chance to do so again.

Why did that not bother me?

I suppose it was the fact I that was dealing with new impulses for the first time since... since forever. Since I had first seen an Endermen on the Overworld’s plains. Since I had first woken up in the grasslands with no name and an innate instinct to build in the back of my skull. Imprisonment. Subservience. Humility. These were all new and complex emotions that I had never before experienced. I was thrilled, despite the detainment.

For the longest time, I answered to no one. I did what I pleased, when I pleased. Now I was stuck alone in a tent all day, yet I was not bothered. Six ponies routinely met with me and they talked, while I did my best to communicate. Barricade and that pony in the coat she called Hemos met with me, but I couldn’t communicate with them to their satisfaction.

I was content to learn what I could from their words and books. The purple one, Twilight, if memory served, showed me books upon books of great monuments and cities. Through turning pages, I saw the city of Canterlot carved into a mountain. I saw the titanic griffonic airships hovering above turgid mountain ranges. I saw the constructs and buildings built by past builders, crafters, and architects.

Twilight’s thirst for knowledge was admirable. She was a young mind, brimming with life and curiosity. On the seventh day, she was in my tent reciting her world’s history.

“This,” she said while pointing at a pyramid construct atop a mountain. “Eye of the World.” It was a fascinating construct to be sure. A single glass orb was set at the peak. If I understood the concept correctly, one could look through the glass and observe very far away lands. Wonderful device, if only I could have seen how it it was constructed and build my own, if such a feat was possible.

Twilight turned the page. I did not understand the first word she said – Ohwayzotoll or something similar – but Twilight’s time with me helped me understand the second, “Temple.” It was a tiered building with an archway entrance shaped like the gaping maw of some great beast.

Our meetings progressed in the same vein most of the time, and I was happy. Content even. I was thrust into the embrace of living beings that did not thirst for my blood, and were even willing to help me learn about their world. Twilight stuck her tongue out in concentration when searching through the many tomes she brought with her every day. It was the most adorable thing my mind could possibly conjure.

I could only sit on my stone perch and watch her turn each page, a small smile on my lips. It was... fun. It was exotic and unbelievably exciting to experience this (mostly) one-sided banter. To be able to enjoy the company of another was a treat I had no concept of before Twilight and her friends stumbled upon my lowly self. After such a long, lonely life, I had those willing to talk to me. It had developed to such an extent that I was eager for their visits. Twilight had her unending thirst for knowledge. The others had... mixed reactions toward me at best.

Ah, Twilight’s friends. I expected as much from them. Actually, I didn’t but I should have. Easily the most approachable – if overly excitable – was a pony by the name of Pinkie. I was most curious if she runs on TNT explosions. Always curious, always in motion, she never depleted her unending well of enthusiasm.

I was also intimidated by her. My benign nature gifted me with a calm demeanor and steady hand in all but the most discomforting of situations. Pinkie was happy. Always happy. That concerned me and made me uncomfortable. I was not quite sure why as of that moment.

Two others did not like me: one with a hat, and one with prismatic hair. The former just spouted nonsense that declared I was a mongrel and a ruffian. I expected it... but I expected her fears to have died down since my incarceration. My presence made her uncomfortable and there was little I could do or say to assuage her concerns.

The latter did little but glare as me. It was beyond simple anger and distrust, if my suspicions proved accurate. These creatures had a surprisingly emotive face. Loneliness had given me a practiced mask of apathy, wonder, and studiousness, but little else (except blind fear). That colorful creature with wings and angry eyes seemed almost... violated. I had wounded this creature on an emotional level without conscious effort, a feat that was becoming increasingly more common, if no less frustrating to understand. I did not quite understand what I had done to offend her. Little did I know I would find out soon, and the terrible consequences it would invoke.

I am getting ahead of myself in my recollection. I digress.

Then there were the last two. I could pin down the others’ feelings easily, but the last two were an enigma. One was a snow-white pony with eyes the lightest blue confounded me. Her face was always artfully blank or marginally curious, never giving away her moods or thoughts. One moment, she would be lecturing me about her kind’s way of life, and the next she would stare into my eyes for minutes on end without a sound.

And she gave me a pet name. I didn’t like it. I still don’t like it.

“♫Big~Boy?”

I hated her more every time I saw her.

It was a few hours after Twilight had come early that morning. I could nearly predict the time of day by Twilight’s arrivals. She was punctual and always came with proper materials to teach me new things. That one however, Rarity, was something...

Special?

I’ll go with that.

She walked – no, strutted – in with a grace and dignity that really did not seem appropriate given our situation. It was not as if we were going to have casual dinner over milk, steak and fish. I’ve seen panicking chickens with a greater sense of propriety than Rarity.

Nevertheless, I performed the same motions she drilled into me a thousand times before. I brushed the dust off my shirt, straightened my back, and tried my best to smile without injuring myself. Complying was better than having to listen to her whine, even if I didn’t understand her half the time.

“Good,” she purred. “Miner,” that was another name for me others seemed to have adopted. That one I did not mind so much. It was apt enough. “are you well?” I nodded. “Good! Now dearie, we – ” I tuned her out afterwards. Rarity had a tendency to use words I wasn’t familiar with. Despite her willingness to teach me, I detected a reserved hesitancy within her, a carefully guarded caution behind the wall of sincerity and friendliness. I had long knocked down that wall due to my perpetual imprisonment. I could not expect the same out of everyone, but it was... nice. They were afraid of me, but they didn’t want to stay that way.

It felt... nice.

The last was one I did not yet know the name of. I had met her a grand total of four times, all without me saying a word. It was the same pale yellow pony with pink hair, whom I had nicknamed Shy Pony until I discovered her name.

I had seen little of the pony. The first time was back when I had raided the town four days ago. I had seen her wandering toward some designation before I fled. The second and third...

I still had no explanation. On that night, preceding and during my raid, I had received three visions, all through the eyes of some unknown creature. The first was overseeing the storm now waning in strength. The second was much more sinister. I was seeing through the eyes of something foul, some horrid abomination the likes of which I hoped to never exist.

It is difficult to describe what... it was in words adequate enough to convey the scope and destructive potential I felt. It was less what I saw and heard, but more what felt that disturbed and disgusted me. Consider the antithesis of life, or joy, of everything I could possible hold dear. That was what that creature inflicted upon me. It was just wrong. My skin crawls just thinking about it.

That is the context for what I must impress upon my second encounter with Shy Pony. The creature I inhabited, whose soul I shared for a few brief moments, pursued Shy Pony. I did not know why, and I still cannot provide answers.

I had not seen Shy Pony in the flesh outside of those few brief moments during my first sighting, yet that did not explain her reactions whenever she saw me afterwards. That time when we first met during my initial incarceration, and those four times over the course of four days, did not cast me in an ill light. Of course, there was always the chance the rumor spread like a forest fire and she thought I was wicked in spirit. Understandable, but that’s not what I saw in her eyes whenever we met over those four days. She seemed... afraid, but curious. It resembled those looks I gave Endermen and Luna upon meeting them. Awe, fear, and wonder.

I don’t want them to be afraid of me.

The sun played a constant game of hide-and-seek behind the wall of clouds above. It was not raining, but I did not doubt such a thing could turn for the tempestuous quickly. It was later that same day, mere hours after Rarity had come and gone. I was outside for the first time since I was caught.

I wasn’t quite sure why at first. A pony with a coat the color of sand and eyes the greenest of grass walked into my tent flanked by Twilight and the pony with the hat. I had seen the one with the horn many times; his name meant diamond, if memory served. Diamond Solitaire. He and his ilk had been meeting me ever since I was caught, asking me questions after each session with Twilight and her friends. Hemos would ask me to stick out my tongue and prod me with all sorts of equipment. I could never fathom what drove them to do such things. Was it some kind of ritual or precaution? If so, I hadn’t the slightest clue what they were doing. It honestly made me uncomfortable to be around them.

I perked up a little when I saw Twilight. I had met the pony four time a day over the past four days. It was little time to develop a bond, but I felt safer in her presence then with Diamond.

“Miner?” she called. Twilight’s voice carried a tone of cautiousness. Curious; she was usually so enthusiastic and eager to get started teaching me. Wondering about the source of her discomfort, I conjured a wooden sign, and asked the question with a glyph.

“Uhhhh...” Twilight cocked her head to the side and scrunched her brow in confusion. “I – ” and she lost me behind a wall of confusing babble. Silly me, she still didn’t know my speech in full. Wiping the charcoal away with the back of my hand, I wrote one of her own glyphs, hopefully to convey my meaning.

“Oh.” Her ears perked up. I’m not sure why, but I found the action insanely cute. She swung her hoof, indicating the three of them. “We here are...” she chewed her lip, trying her hardest to remember words I was familiar with. Twilight seemed to remember everything I told her, every symbol I wrote. Her memory and recall was astounding, far beyond what I was capable of.

I got lost in my houses sometimes.

“We show you,” she said plainly. Don’t worry, Twilight; we can still work on that language barrier.

Sighing, I nodded and rose. I was finally let outside. Four guards clad in their violet armor trailed me silently into the early afternoon. The mountain castle far to the northeast was hidden behind distant waterfall, rolling hills, and the settlement I had entered on my journey’s beginning. That town was not where we were heading, however. The hat pony was oddly silent. In fact, her eyes were less hostile and more curious now. That, in turn, made me curious. She was far from amiable, but never this contemplative.

I had little time to admire my surroundings, but my brief time was eventful in spirit. Twilight and Diamond indicated a newly formed tent a hundred meters away from my own. It, my own tent, and the area in between were all saturated with ponies of various shapes and sizes. None were close to my bulk, and Barricade was nowhere in sight. Most were the typical ponies with leathery wings, all clad in violet armor. It was then that I noticed a peculiar fact: Twilight and Hat Pony were nowhere near as robust and lean as the soldiers. I had spent so much of time time with them, that I had seemingly forgotten the ponies came in several different shapes and sizes. Lierah was thin and green. The Sovereign, Luna as I now know her, was tall and slender. Twilight was short and carried pudge typical of a sedentary lifestyle.

Standing there in the dying sun, breathing in the moist air as the wind tickled my beard, I realized just how many of them there were. And how they all reacted to me. The soldiers displayed little more than casual disinterest. I had seen them daily, some almost hourly. The novelty of seeing a whole new species wears away when the interactions become routine

Others were different. The unicorns, the ponies with horns, intimidated me. I liked Twilight well enough. Rarity, too, even though dealing with her felt as easy as controlling a litter of cats. The older unicorns with the black clothes always asked questions and performed their sorcery on me after every visit. Watching them alongside the soldiers was both comforting, and unnerving. I was unfettered, but their eyes were still as curious and eager as ever. I didn’t like it. I felt like some experiment dancing on silver strings whenever I was in their presence.

I did not have to endure their gaze much longer, for I was upon Twilight’s destination quickly enough. A flash of lightning wrenched the shadows out of their languor before the thunderous bang made Twilight flinch. She recomposed herself, an odd set of motions I supposed were typical of quadrupeds. Twitchy tails seemed to be a sign of nervousness; the stoic guards could stand for hours without the slightest fasciculation.

Hat Pony and Twilight parted the tent flaps. Huh; Hat Pony had a trio of apples on her rump. Fascinating.

Inside was a single pony I had become familiar with. Barricade was a large pony, more boulder than animal. She was quite neutral around me, neither aggressive nor friendly, but still carried the desire of mutual cooperation we both desired. Quite a stern soul, but one of the first to offer me a kindness. Upon seeing me, her lips curved into a smirk, yet her eyes remained vigilant and hard. Only one thing, to my knowledge, could make the soldier drop her guard. Shy Pony.

I was surprised it took me so long to discover the relationship. It was my fifth day in this world, or my second day of confinement. I have bred cows and pigs in the Overworld to harvest them, but Overworld animals always looked identical, save for sheep and their wool. Here, however, offspring did not enter the world as a clone of their sire and dame. Shy Pony was Barricade’s daughter. Barricade, dangerous as an Endermen and wily as a creeper, was soothed by the presence of her spawn. I just compared you to my deadliest foes, Barricade. That is high praise coming from me.

Once before, I had seen Shy Pony and Barricade nuzzle softly, the latter issuing soft nickering sounds. I couldn’t help but be the voyeur; it was a display of affection I was not used to, nor had never seen. Overworld livestock and monsters never so much as emote, let alone show any recognizable display of kinship or parental bond. Barricade loved her daughter dearly.

I shook myself out of my reverie. Contemplating affection was for another time. I needed to understand what Twilight was trying to show me. Panning my head around the tent, there was nothing. There was nothing of note, save for the unicorn, the four guards, Barricade, Hat Pony, and Twilight.

Confused, I gave Twilight a questioning glance. She, in turn, gave one to Barricade. the soldier only replied with a nod, and stepped to the side.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew exactly why I was there. Lying behind her in the dirt was a solitary helmet, gold in color with a single brush on top. It was exactly the same as the creature in the caverns.

I now know that I saw a pony underground, but it was something more than that. Something underground frightened me to my very soul, simply because it could. It was a pony... but not any I had seen before. Something vile and wicked lurked behind its eyes, a monster wearing the skin of the familiar quadrupedal form. I would never forget that gold armor it wore. Not until the die I die.

My quartet of guards jumped to the side as I immediately backpedaled away. My eyes were wide with fright and my breathing came in quick, sharp pants.

“Fella’, you scared o’ somethin’?” Hat Pony asked.

You’re damn right I was.

I backed up even further, making sure that my eyes remained locked on the helmet. It was foolish of me to not realize that a simple helmet could do little than just sit inert. I was not thinking clearly, my mind was plunged back into the cold and dark of the caverns below ground. It did not matter when I backed up into a barrier conjured by the unicorn. It did not matter that the four guards surrounded me and braced themselves for an impending attack.

The tension was broken like the snap of a faulty bow string. Barricade tapped the side of the helmet. The metal listed for only a moment before it collapsed on its side. The flush grass absorbed the sound and possible echo. I just stood there with everyone else in the room staring at me, all waiting to see how I would react. The light filtering through the tent flap reflected off the helmet’s smooth surface, a vivid contrast to the crown of light

...Why was I there?

That single thought ceased my rapid breathing and settled my nerves. I was brought into the tent for a reason. Barricade had understood my propensity to fear the golden armor on the night I was first captured.

I was brought to the room to acclimate, but acclimate to what? The helmet scattered a prismatic array of color across the drab military tent. The room was almost empty, barren of any life or distraction save for Barricade and those who came with me.

Barricade’s eyes were hard and cool when mine met hers. Not wanting to hold the stare, I looked to Twilight. She seemed curious, but she too was looking at me expectantly. Hat Pony wore a similar contemplative countenance.

Each was looking at me, waiting, but for what? What morsel of information could I produce out of an empty helmet?

The realization hit me. Oh, I was an idiot. The fact that it was a helmet should have given it away the moment I saw it.

The bat ponies, the ones with the great leather wings, all wore identical armor. I saw the same engraved silver runes cast into each, all intriguing and uniform in design. There was another type of winged pony – pegasus – that I had seen but never given a second thought. Shy Pony and the one with prismatic hair all had feathers on their wings akin to chickens, only far more suited for flight. I had completely forgotten the fact until that very moment due to the trauma of the memory, but the monster, the pegasus, in the caverns also had the same type of wings.

Silver for leather wings, gold for...

Could it be?

My face must have betrayed some critical emotion, for Barricade smirked in victory and understanding. Whatever she hoped to accomplish, she believed she had achieved it. We both discovered the same fact. I was greeted by what I would come to know as a Royal Guardpony deep beneath the earth. The corps was kept away from me due to my own fear, but now the truth was discovered. There was a traitor in their midst. All they needed was for me to tell them what happened.

The rain had ceased on when the sun was a quarter way through the sky. Throughout the week, the storms that raged in the heavens ceased their struggle with violent, but deliberate steps. Storms in the Overworld could last for days at their worst, but my day was a pitiful excuse for a pony day. I don’t know what angry god this world was host to, but close to seven days of deluge was more than frustrating for me, especially because I was stuck in one place for most of it. By the eighth day, there was little more than the occasional sprinkle gracing the refreshed earth.

I was getting antsy, and my slowly darkening mood was becoming more and more apparent to my captors. I did not mind the captivity in concept, but it was not in my nature to stay cooped up. I was happy to interact with Twilight and her friends, but those tantalizing moments were interspaced with extreme boredom. What vigor and enthusiasm their or Barricade’s visits invoked were vividly contrasted with my bouts of solitude.

It bothered me greatly, as it only showed just how much I had changed since I first arrived. Boredom and solitude were never in short supply in the Overworld. I had gone days, sometimes months, without producing a conscious thought other than building or mining. It was more muscle memory than anything; I could constantly swing my pickaxe, burrowing deep into the earth. I’d mine stone and precious minerals, all for the benefit of building better and grander objects. It required action, not thought.

I was denied that instinct to mine while inside the tent. I had long since emptied the ground underneath my tent of dirt and set up a small base of operations to keep myself busy, but I had little materials to work with. All I had on me upon my capture was some stone, diamonds, and a tiny smattering of wood. It was hardly enough to retain my focus for long, despite the abundance of diamonds. Speaking of gemstones, I still held chest upon chest of odd minerals underground.

Nevertheless, my increasing distress drew the attention and ire of my guards. I was courteous to the best of my ability and cultural sensitivity, but that did not staunch my frustration. I had become short and angry with my guards, and once I was close to pulling a blade from my own internal stores. Given my confinement and relatively consistent good behavior under confinement, that was likely the reason I was given a reprieve. Under surveillance, of course.

Once again, Twilight had led me out of confinement under guard, this time accompanied by Pinkie. I considered throwing the Ender Pearl and escaping, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t have helped evade her.

“Follow, please.” Twilight gestured with a hoof to herself and Pinkie, who was bouncing up and down on her hooves without end. Curious, I expressed myself.

“We’re gonna have some fun!”

I’m afraid of you, Pinkie.

I was deconstructing diamond cubes into its component nine diamonds and back. It was not as if I had anything else to do. I absorbed the cube back into my body, stood, and proceeded to follow Twilight out the door. Four guards slinked towards my flank, along with that unicorn named Diamond.

The sun was out, the first time I had seen it in full. I held a hand up to shield my eyes from the bright rays. Overcast skies had long obscured the sun’s warmth, and it was pleasant to behold. like most past sensations in this land, the feeling was distinctly more sharp and vivid than what I was familiar with in the Overworld. What had once been a dull blanket of warmth was now an omnipresent blanket that warmed my bones. It was becoming a pattern. Everything that I experienced was enhanced by several fold. The scent of water was fresh and light. The steady beat of pegasus wings left a distinctly different flutter depending on how hard they flapped. Everything sensation was enhanced.

It wasn’t an unpleasant warmth. The rain upon my first capture saturated my shirt and flooded my nose with the scent of water, but it did not bother me. I was strong. I still am strong. I could survive tiny distractions such as those, but that did not mean I wasn’t enthralled. Everything was just so colorful. So vivid and lifelike.

So much more real.

Diamond nudged the small of my back with his snout, jolting me out of my reverie. Twilight and Pinkie had already made progress in their trek. Unlike the day before, I was not being led to a solitary tent. I was being led north.

Into town.

Curious as I was to discover what Twilight was up to, I did not stop her and ask, instead deciding to let her take me there and discover it myself. My last experiences with the town were... less than ideal. I was nervous to be sure. Twilight was also, as her tail swished back and forth more than necessary. Pinkie’s exuberance was forever peaked.

There was little room for protest. I was still under guard. What could she possibly want?

“Peace, Miner.” Twilight had noticed my distress and turned to comfort me to the best her ability. “It is okay. We will be okay.” Her words were slow and forced as if she was unfamiliar with speaking in small words. Deciding to bite the arrowhead and get it over with, I steeled myself and continued walking by her side.

My eyes were always on the approaching rooftops. Every step increased my growing unease. Twilight said a few more choice words of our shared dialect, even writing some words in my own script. I did my best to calm my breathing, but it, predictably, didn’t help.

I was under watch before I reached the outskirts. Ponies, both on land and air, observed me as I walked. I expected to be jeered and ridiculed... but the town was disturbingly silent when I passed. Granted, I was much larger in terms of height and body mass, but these ponies had sorcery beyond what I was capable of. Far beyond me. I tried not to stare, but I did notice the demographic leaned towards ponies without horns or wings. Okay then.

Windows and doors shut as I passed, but a few curious onlookers overrode their concerns and watched me.

Boing!

My ears perked. A pony was bouncing on their hooves. I glanced at Pinkie, but she had returned to walking, albeit with a skip in her pace.

Boing!

There it was again.

“Hi, Twilight!” I knew that voice...

A mint green unicorn had been hopping up and down to see over some of her contemporaries. As if on cue, the skies released a few tears. My shirt was already damp with previous rains and my own sweat. Now the light sprinkle moistened it once again. Lierah scampered towards our fellowship, her eyes sparkling with whimsy and delight.

The guards shifted to block her passage to me. Lierah’s hooves clattered to a stop and appeared quite crestfallen at not being allowed to greet me. She gave a half-hearted wave, which I hesitantly returned.

Twilight approached Lierah and spoke to her in discreet whispers. My knowledge of their language was scant and incomplete at best, and their quiet words did little to assist my understanding of what was being said. The pair talked for a few minutes. While the guards remained immobile as always, myself, Diamond, and Pinkie, began fidgeting at the stillness. The lack of stillness was becoming a trait of the last in my eyes.

“Wah!” Pinkie’s body contorted in a singular yet massive spasm. Speak of Pinkie, and Pinkie doth do it.

The spasm seemed to draw Twilight’s eye more than her conversation. Lierah’s jaw hung open in mid sentence as they both watched Pinkie with a mixture of fear and rapt attention. So Pinkie was sick? Despite my misgivings about the pony, I felt a lingering sense of guilt. I had long thought some very unpleasant things about Pinkie, the vast majority will never grace the pages of this diary, but I never wished physical harm on her.

Twilight exchanged some hushed whispers and quiet nickering with Pinkie. Whatever eclectic illness Pinkie may have had, it did little to tamper with her mood. Her cheer did not falter in the slightest when she replied, “Soon!”

Twilight was silent for the longest time. I wasn’t certain what Pinkie meant. Was she going to die soon? Was she poisoned? I had yet to understand the true nature of Pinkie’s unique abilities. Twilight was smart and mentally cataloged the incident for later, but I had dismissed it. If only I had known the horror she had just predicted, the spilled blood painting the ground in a morbid canvas. If only I, or any of us in that small town, had known what beast was coming for us with its mind set on murder.

...I am sorry for that. As always, I write in this journal after events have taken place. Something... bad happens soon after these events. Something terrible, and I regret not being able to stop it.

I must digress again. I will get to that soon enough.

Lierah and Twilight followed Pinkie who had resumed her bountifully happy nature and skipping towards our final destination. A small group of ponies were gathered around a house with a destroyed wall. Several stacks of lumber stood to the side and were covered with tarp, no doubt what was prepared to repair the hole. The dark hue of the wall looked familiar, and then it hit me; it was the wall that Barricade and bucked me through. Being kicked through a wall; it was yet another new experience, but one I would rather not have had and not have a repeat of.

Two ponies, one a very burly stallion with an orange coat and a female with yellow-orange coat and snow-white hair, were speaking together over a building schematic, one I identified as the very same building. It appeared that the two of them were sent to repair the damage Barricade and I had caused during our scuffle.

I could not understand the two as they huddled together in muted whispers and only when did the white-haired female look up did she speak loud enough for me to understand. “Twilight?”

“Hello, Ambrosia.” Ambrosia embraced Twilight in a friendly hug before adjusting herself to face me. I was uncomfortable at first, but the hard edge that I had associated with danger in their eyes was not present, but it was still uncomfortable. I felt like i was being sized up, and my mind flashed back to the uncomfortable stares and apathetic smiles of the unicorns in the black cloaks.

“Hello.” I blinked. Her voice was pleasant, almost musical in tone. It contrasted with her youthful appearance and lean muscles hiding under a thin layer of fat. Ambrosia snickered and said a few words I didn’t understand, which caused Twilight to blush.

Ambrosia turned around where she stood. The exaggerated motion she used to do so caused her tail to flick against my nose and she waved her rump at me enticingly.

Well... that was... unexpected.

Twilight’s purple fur framing her face was sunset red, but Pinkie and Lierah just giggled. The former nudged the small of my back with her head, prompting me to follow Ambrosia to the damaged building.

The ground had been cleared of the debris of my fight and only rivulets of water remained from the previous week’s storm. The scent of rain clung to the air, along with... Ambrosia smiled suggestively.

Oh my...

Lierah punched a hoof into Ambrosia’s side, causing the latter to pout. She, thankfully, ceased her suggestive advances and brandished a hoof at the destroyed wall for me to examine. Hesitantly, I examined it for myself. I was a little concerned turning my back on Pinkie and now this new Ambrosia character.

The hole wasn’t too large by my standards. It was me-shaped for the most part, more tall than wide. It had splintered and cracked the surrounding wood and damaged most of the interior framework. The wood paneling below the window would have to come out and be replaced, along with several portions of the wall to reinforce structural stability. The door on the far side of the wall was fine, but removing the damage would might cause damage to the door frame.

I was back in my element once more, back to building and planning. I wouldn’t have desired anything more, and that was why I was out. My enraptured look had garnered the attention of Twilight and Ambrosia. They wanted to see how I would react. They wanted to see what I would do. What I could do. My skills were being put to use.

I gave Twilight a questioning look, which she returned with an encouraging nod. “Go ahead.” I could feel the restraint in her voice. Twilight was never one to restrain herself, especially when it came to expressing her thoughts and beliefs, but that was the only way I could understand her.

I stepped forward and my guards didn’t follow, but still kept a close eye on me. I needed more wood to seal the breach, so I picked up several stacks of timber and absorbed them into my own internal stores. The big orange pony got irritated by that fact, but Ambrosia held a hoof to silence him.

I conjured an axe and hacked at the wall. Like other items before it, it soon became naught but a stream of energy for me to absorb. I continued across the entire wall, cutting and absorbing damaged wood. Cut, pull, cut, pull; it was a repetitious action that I had forged into legendary skill in the Overworld, even if there was none but myself to realize my achievements. In less than a minute, the entire wall was stripped bare of wood. It was easy for me, a process that was only briefly denied yet comforting as a warm fire. Inside my well of energy, I called forth the wood planks I had just absorbed from the pile. I placed my palm on the floor now visible to myself and my group. Inside was a long row of ovens and cupboards. The building smelled of sweets and burning coals. Although not the garish atrocity known as the cupcake building, I knew a bakery when I saw one.

A tendril of brown energy snaked down my arm and sprung upwards. It expanded, solidified, and hardened in the space of a blink and the flat wall of wood graced our eyes. Lierah gasped while Ambrosia whistled appreciatively. I couldn’t help but smile.

I made quick work of the rest of the wall. It was a simple project, barely requiring a minute to complete. I proceeded slower than I usually do, as I didn’t wish to move too fast or startle my audience any more than necessary. When done, I was greeted to the sound of applause, the sound of stomping hooves instead of colliding palms. I had garnered more than the grumpy pony, Lierah, and my guards for my impromptu job. Several ponies had come from their places of observation to watch me work. Mothers who had normally hid their children behind their legs, tails, and flanks were watching me with equal wonder as their spawn.

I was the center of attention once again, and the added attention dulled my momentary boost in confidence and satisfaction. I was always a loner, and didn’t like being put on the spot.

“~Coooooool!” both Lyra and Pinkie cooed in unison. From nothing but that glazed-eyed, slack jawed delight, a wave of laughter coursed through the small crown. There was little more than a dozen, but it was more than I had ever been exposed to before. I was used to soldiers, not the normal, everyday civilians in town. They were so much like the testificates in the small huts, but all carried a tiny facet of something more, something never before dreamed of by myself.

As the laughter died down and the applause faded to the steady sound of stomping hooves, my smile returned. I thought, perhaps it wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

In three days, I was proven wrong.

Chapter 29: Belong

Chapter 29: Belong

My cell was not the intended destination after I fixed the wall. Instead of heading south, Twilight continued north, walking alongside Pinkie. Lierah was speaking with my unicorn guard. If I understood their conversation well enough, she handed them a transcript of the song I played at her house. I wasn’t sure why she didn’t hand – hoof? – it to them before if she thought it important. I guess the matter took too much time, or it wasn’t that important. The two were in an animate discussion about me, but I was not concerned about them.

Like when I first walked into town, the residents stopped and observed me with interest. I had not seen another of my kind in the Overworld, and I had yet to see one here. I knew the realm contained monsters and magic, but the only sentient creatures were ponies? As odd as they were to me, I was equally strange to them. The crowd that had gathered to watch me work and fix the house wall either continued with their own affairs after I had left, or trailed behind. Twilight did not seem to mind, but my guards required them to keep a distance.

That did not not stop civilians from catching glances from windows, doors, and the sky itself. After seeing me repair the house, they were much more comfortable around me than normal. I could not enjoy my brief time in the limelight. Twilight had herded Pinkie and myself to a stout, if frightenly gnarled and ancient, tree. Windows and crisp green leaves dotted the tree. I loved the rustic feel it exuded, and it complemented Twilight. Private, yet intriguing and odd.

The door opened before we even approached, yet no one was on the other side to open it. I was hit with the smell of old. It was the smell I had associated with Twilight’s dust-covered books. I found it hard to believe that they could become so dirty. My own books never accumulated such filth.

The circular room was lined with bookshelves carved right out of the wall. In fact, almost all but the furnishings were cut directly from the tree’s interior; steps, shelves, floor, ceiling, everything. The steps lead to an upstairs level that held more personal items: a bedroom, vanity table, and others. A door in the back led to a downstairs level and the door exuded strange smells.

“Make yourself at home.” Twilight cantered up the stairs. I heard a door open and the smelt the backdraft scent of baking bread.

“Okay!” Pinkie immediately left. Huh.

Not really knowing what to do, I walked to one of the shelves and examined the books. I didn’t understand most of the words. Feeling ambitious, I removed one from its confines and perused the pages. The scent of old parchment assaulted my tender nose as I flipped page after page. I saw nothing beyond a gigantic wall of text, nearly incomprehensible.

I filed that book away and searched for another, hoping to find one of Twilight's picture books. The guards had relaxed, but all were eyeing my to some extent. One had tucked her – judging by the hips – wings to her side and was watching me with her head on her hooves. She was humming a lullaby, while another tugged at his armor. Another pair stood by the door, ever watchful.

I walked to another bookshelf and squatted. The spines were brightly colored, much like Twilight’s books. The first one I picked out had a pony with wings, a pegasus, if memory served, hanging precariously by a vine. Creatures full of sharpened teeth swirled angrily below, circling for an easy meal.

I picked a cushioned bench to sit on and opened the book. I blinked; a cyan feather was lodged between the first page and the cover. I got lost in the pages of wonder and adventure. Even if I didn’t know some of the words, the pictures interspaced within told the tale well enough. The prone mare soon vocalized her lullaby, a quartet of “la” sounds that wove beautifully together as the pegasus crept through darkened and musty halls of an ancient building.

“Refreshments?” Twilight had finally returned. My guards rose to their hooves in respect. I had yet to contemplate the idea, but the guards showed an unusually high amount of deference to the pony. It was similar to the hierarchical structure I saw with Barricade and Luna. The guards immediately showed respect and a little fear towards those two. It was less with Twilight, and almost nonexistent, if present, among Twilight’s friends. I wondered where Twilight was in the hierarchy. Certainly lower than Luna and Barricade.

Twilight set the tray down on a table. The guards abstained from drinks. They were always sticklers for duty and protocol, and it was excruciatingly boring to me. I took a glass and sniffed it cautiously. It smelled of apples and spices, which I partook greedily.

Twilight giggled at my enthusiasm. She closed the picture book I had selected and slipped it back onto its proper shelf. I was surprised when she did not even look at where her magic placed it. Did she have each book’s placement memorized?

Twilight selected another book and I recognized the words “Builders” and “Architects” on the cover. She opened to the first section, and across both pages was the image of a beautiful hedge maze decorated with the finest flowers I had ever seen. I was particularly fond of roses; I suppose the iron golems that wandered the Testificate villages on the open plains were responsible for that desire. I occasionally saw them holding a rose and offering it to myself or random Testificates. I always thought it fascinating. The roses and daffodils and a thousand flowers in between were on display all throughout the garden.

I saw no purpose to the structure other than novelty. Of course, I had made similar structures with varying materials, including cacti in order to escape monsters. Nevertheless, I admired the craftsmanship. Only then did I notice the age of the photo. I recognized the shape of the petals in order to identify them, but the photo was monochromated. Sitting at the labyrinth entrance was a single pony wearing worn and faded clothes. He was covered in dirt and grime, but posed for the picture with the most satisfied, content smile on his face. I saw myself with that same happy grin whenever one of my greater creations was finally complete. A subterranean chapel spanning over a kilometer. Sunset City, my last great creation and built to house thousands. Aquasanti, the underwater arcology built under in the cradle of the deepest ocean.

Twilight pointed to the name of the crafter. Unlike the graphemes I used, the ponies made their language from phonemes, sounds instead of pictures. I tried to understand the name to the best of my abilities.

... A... E... ... A... ... U... S...

She turned a couple pages. The next picture was an aged and wizened unicorn standing adjacent to a colossal stained glass window, the very same window Luna showed me in the vision. Two gods, one of the day and one of the night, chased each other in a dance. The dying sun cast the unicorn in a web of colors. Again, I did my best to transcribe the name.

... S... ... A... E... ... ... E... ...

I leaned forward as Twilight turned the pages again. She set the book on the floor and we both lay on our stomachs as I received a lesson in crafters from ages long passed. From shipbuilders to sky fortresses, we enjoyed an evening of rest and relaxation. It was my first day devoid of any serious boredom. I wholeheartedly enjoyed the opportunity to see familiar faces and stretch my legs, to practice my craft after such a long dry spell and regain the trust I had lost. Rather than being poked and prodded by the scientists and doctors among the ponies, I was having fun.

A smile crossed my lips as I finished my beverage. With the soldiers at my back, one humming a quiet tune, I was content to lie there with Twilight until the sunset hours had passed.

After Twilight concluded her lesson, I was escorted back to my usual, boring tent for the night. I could not help but let my eyes wander the dark. I knew that darkness did not hide a creeper or zombie a stone’s throw away, but I had spent so long with that ever-present dread at the forefront of my mind, it was difficult to banish.

I started my next day with poking and prodding. How ironic. I could not quite understand the full extent of what they were doing experimenting on me. I spent my time in a tent lined with beds and strange devices. A unicorn in a white coat I often saw, Hemos, was measuring me with tools before wanting a blood sample. I didn’t understand why he wanted such a thing, but a few drops were nothing to bemoan.

Hemos pricked a finger with a needle and stared for a few seconds curiously. I didn’t know what he was expecting. It was not as if blood was going to spurt out on its own. I applied pressure to my hand, forcing a few droplets of blood to pool around my fingertip. The momentary confusion that crossed the pony’s face melted like fresh snow by a fire. Hemos was rather cold, but I admired him for keeping a dignified air and professionalism whenever he could.

His eyes returned to their original bored, blank apathy. “I am done here.” A trio of guards standing patiently by the door stepped forward to escort me to my next destination. Hemos and the unicorns in black often asked me questions or perform some kind of test during each visit. Hemos seemed particularly curious as to why I only need bread to eat, and the unicorns wanted to know more about my ability to craft. I told them all I knew: it was just something that came naturally to me. Mostly they wanted me to build small structures in order to figure out how it worked.

I never bothered to answer that question. Why would I need to know? The answer to such a question would not benefit me in the slightest, nor would it satisfy some innate curiosity buried in my cerebral quagmire. I was just hoping I could practice my skill on my own. I didn’t like building under watchful eyes, which is why I liked repairing the wall in town so much. The ponies did not care about my abilities, only that I was capable of strange and wonderful things.

I walked out of the tent. The sky was overcast again, by no rain was incoming. I did not mind rain, but it did obstruct my line of sight. Plus, extended rain was havoc on my mood. I loved the sun.

I put my thumbs into my pants and took a deep breath of boredom. I wanted to go back into town and start building. I longed to build and the memory of the previous day only nagged at me, taunting me with its satisfaction.

I kicked a stone out of irritation, only to discover it refused to budge and I grunted in pain. The guard to my left chortled and scratched his chin. I stuck out my own chin and scratched my lengthy beard. He thrust a wing into my side, but it didn’t hurt. A smile crossed both of our lips.

Mine’s still bigger.

My guards were warming up to me, and that was welcome enough. I used to think that the leather wings, the Night Guard, were as emotive as stones. Crinkled eyes, marginal smirks, tiny chuckles; as stiff as they acted, there were volumes of emotions that their tiny motions told.

“You know, I will have to ask my NCO if you can build me a house,” he asked jovially.

I really wouldn’t mind, and I actually wished I would be allowed to do so. Whenever I entered a new place, my first objective had always been to build a house for protection. I wished I had the chance to make a house in the new world I called my temporary home.

And then it struck me. I already did.

My guards stopped in their tracks as I suddenly froze. I had never just seized up like that. Never, so the primary exemplar was a notable point of interest. Both of my hands clutched my head and I could not stop a breathless chuckle escaping my lips. Before I raided the town, I had built a mansion within the dark depths of the earth.

“What’s up, big guy?”

I tore my palms away from my face, grinning stupidly. How could I have forgotten so easily? In addition, revealing that morsel would likely allow two desires of mine to come to fruition: showing my work, and the possibility to build more.

I conjured a sign and a piece of charcoal to write. I could audibly understand their language, but writing it was significantly more difficult.

BUILD HOUSE YES

The guard tilted his head after reading. “I like that you do not mind, but I think Barricade or Hawk won’t allow that just yet.”

I shook my head vehemently.

UNDERGROUND HOUSE

I could see the gears winding as he contemplated my message. “You... built one already?”

I nodded in assent before drawing a crude map.

The guard sighed and rubbed his fledgling beard. “Huh, this is interesting news.”

I was in my usual tent. I wanted to kill time underground, but even I could tell that something important was developing in front of my eyes. Barricade, dressed in full military regalia was conversing with a group of Night Guards; they were no doubt plotting about what to do with the information I had given them. My first instinct was nothing. I had built a house underground, but there was nothing special outside of that it was built by me. Perhaps that fact alone was enough to warrant a search party, and I was hoping for that.

Barricade dismissed her underlings and walked toward me. It always surprised me every time I saw her just how large she was compared to every other pony, and most of that was lean muscle. I leaned forward in a motion to get up, but some warning in her eyes forced me to sit back down. The pony was normally friendly, if strict and as hard as iron.

And damn, she was big.

“So, I hear you were a busy beaver.” What’s a beaver? “Why do you have a house?”

I don’t know how she did it, but she had the ability to silence me with a glance. If I actually spoke to anyone, that is.

SAFETY

She raised an eyebrow. “From what?”

DARKNESS MONSTERS

I had not expected her to understand my true intent. I needed a home wherever I went in the Overworld, as a home was needed to be safe from monsters. Zombies, skeletons, spiders, and creepers spawned from the dark. Not here, but that did not relieve the age-old tension in the back of my skull.

I had not told anyone the details about those monsters, as my foreign vocabulary was still dreadfully thin. I had told the very same detail to Twilight before, but I wasn’t capable of revealing much else.

“What monsters?”

I knew no word for creeper, zombie, or Endermen, but I had seen enough of Twilight’s books to figure out two words for other monsters.

SPIDERS & SKELETONS & MORE

“More? Like what?”

I shrugged and wrote the only answer I could give her.

NO WORDS

Barricade smiled. That... wasn’t the reaction I had anticipated for disappointment. That unsettled me. “So Twilight hasn’t taught you enough words?” I nodded. “Fine.”

I could see her struggle with using only short sentences and small words. Rarity had the same trouble at times. I did not know how to speak all of their words, so they were forced to talk to me as if I were a youngling. Barricade hated it, but held her tongue on the matter. “Can you at least draw them?”

I simpered. My art is and always had been objectively terrible. A thousand years under the sun and stars couldn’t change that.

TRY HARD

Barricade smiled and gave a friendly nudge to my shoulder, which was less a nudge and more an accident shove. “Alright. I expect it after you get back.”

Back? I didn’t understand what she was talking about. My head tilted to the side out of confusion. Befuddlement was easy to understand. “You’re going to show us. But first, let us get a friend of yours.”

My wish was granted. With Barricade’s order, I was to lead a team of guards and unicorn black cloaks to my underground domicile. It’s what I wanted. What I did not want was Rarity to come with.

The guards were gearing up for an extended trip. Bottles of water and tools piled into their bags, while Rarity stood patiently with her own. Often enough I had seen her in some fine garments or another, but now she seemed ready to depart with myself and my guards. She lifted a leg in a stretch and proceeded with her remaining legs, where she then repeated the process again and again. She was stretching. Barricade’s cryptic message was answered; Rarity was coming with.

She was one of my teachers, thus doing so was not out of the ordinary. She helped teach me words and the finer points of pony life. She showed me pictures of clothing and everyday life. She taught me the subtle nuances of their behavior. While Twilight was teaching me history, Rarity was teaching me about its residents.

One resident I did not know about had never seen was standing next to her and staring at me curiously. Most ponies come up to my navel while those like Barricade could almost look me in the eye. The little runt I was looking at barely reached my knee. Strange creature, it was. A light violet in color, it was covered in fleshy skin that appeared harder and more dense than normal flesh. It reminded me of ore veins in deep rock the way they glimmered in low light.

“Miner,” Rarity called out, “this is Spike.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’, big guy?” Spike reached out a hand. Upon closer inspection, his hand resembled the clawed talons of chickens. It took me awhile to remember Twilight’s lessons. She had touched on, only briefly, the subject of other species. The little one was a dragon, if memory served.

I squatted down to shake his hand. I still almost doubled him in height. “So you’re the guy who builds stuff?” I nodded.

“Really big stuff?”

Uh huh.

“And complicated wiring machine?”

Yeah.

“Good. Now I know some ponies who can provide you with lots of materials.”

Okay.

“Make a giant cannon!” he shouted with conviction.

Spike, trust me. With me building a TNT cannon, that will kill ponies more than anything. Rarity shared my concerns at the surprisingly strange and slightly alarming tone the youngling’s mind had wandered.

“Spike!” She stomped a hoof, tarnishing her carefully filed hooves with dirt. “That is not appropriate! For what, pray tell, would you possibly need a cannon?”

“Just to have one.”

Flawless logic.

No rest for the weary. It was a good thing I did not weary on a full stomach. I insisted that we entered town first. My comrades were understanding, if confused, about my choice to do so. My memory was abysmal as it was, but I only recalled one solid path underground, and that was exactly what I told them.

PATH UNDERGROUND

“Where exactly?” Spike asked. The drake rode Rarity’s back right up to her withers. He had been asking questions, and I did my best to answer. Spike was curious more than any other I had met.

I recalled my first entrance into town. I had opened a path between two buildings back when the night was deep and the rain was harsh. I spent the last twenty minutes searching the town for any mental landmarks, only finding other landmarks that bared no importance. Town hall, ugly cupcake building, Lierah’s house; none were the narrow alleyway containing trash and garbage cans.

LOOKING

Ponies looked on curiously whenever I approached. Most were warming up to me, as I had become a focus of gossip and interest within the past week. I did my best to move slowly as possible. My normally brisk pace was reduced to a crawl to accommodate my entourage and to not startle the civilians. Some waved their hooves in recognition or greeting, and I returned the gesture out of respect.

A small contingent of guards surrounded myself and Rarity, eyes alert for danger and any treachery that I could produce. They were all Night Guards accompanied by a half dozen unicorns; I had not seen a single Royal Guardpony. As much as I disliked seeing their armor, I certainly understood what was going on. One had gone rogue. Why was still beyond me. I asked Barricade once, but she refused to tell and asked for my silence on the matter. Lightly threaten would be a better word.

I thought I may have had found the proper alley. It was dark and my mind was focused on other matters. I had made a careful mental map in order to remember my way back, but getting caught and the passing week had long snuffed it out. Luckily, I was right. I reared back, fist balled and struck the ground with every ounce of strength I could muster. The ground rippled and vanished like so many objects before it and that bottomless well within me bloomed with another drop.

One of the Night Guards approached the hole in the wake of my power and stuck his head in. “There’s a path, sir. West, to the forest.”

The one in command, a more burly Night Guard that was identical in armor save for an extra bar across his helmet, nodded. “Take four and make sure the path is clear. Don’t want no surprises.”

It didn’t take too long until they returned proclaiming such. Back on the grassy Overworld, I sealed my tunnels so that livestock would not follow me through when I could not procure a proper door. I did the same here in order to not receive any uninvited “guests.” The group that left took point. I dropped down and assisted both Rarity and Spike into the tunnel behind me, while the rest soon filled in afterwards.

I conjured a torch and filed the moist underground with a dull glow. Rarity and the unicorns’ horns glowed and did the same. The Night Guards avoided looking at both. The walk down the tunnel was long, dull, and uneventful; I had made it about two kilometers long. The sound of clinking armor and bodily movements filled my ears while my nose breathed in the scent of sweat, dirt and stone. I was tall enough that the hairs on my head brushed the low ceiling, but the rest had ample head space.

The guards had taken the liberty of digging their own exit, as the dirt wall that I had placed at the other end of the tunnel collapsed outwards. Calmly, they filed out and spread in an arc, ever so quiet and silently searching for any danger. We were in the outermost portion of the forest where the trees were few and far between, but still choked off smaller plant life. The air felt warmer for some reason. I wasn’t quite sure why.

“Where to?” the nearest guard asked. I didn’t answer right away. My attention was on Rarity. She had a distressed expression across her face and shook off the little bits of dirt built up on her hooves and fetlocks. I had forgotten that Rarity’s proprietary relating to her appearance annoyed me almost as much as Pinkie intimidated me. The soldiers were quiet and careful. They could take care of themselves. Rarity, I wasn’t too sure about, and that concerned me. I conjured a sign and wrote my next message.

WHY YOU HERE

She chuckled lightly. Rarity had the remarkable ability to sound delighted and extremely condescending at the same time. “Darling, as strange as it sounds, nopony knows these tunnels better than I.”

That would have been a surprise, providing I actually believed her. Before I could write another message, she continued, “I have been searching the eroded tunnels for gems these past seven years. I think I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, we go hunting for gems loads of times,” Spike added. He was looking at Rarity with a bemused expression. I hoped he was not thinking about Rarity the way I thought he was. I didn’t think I could handle that just yet.

“She’s right. We need her,” the lead Night Guard added. I wasn’t convinced, but dropped the issue. Returning my sign to the well, I scanned my surroundings. I had come from the underground through a large gaping crevasse. I needed to backtrack, but I found it fast enough. Some of the guards took to the air, watching me as well as the forest above and the darkness below. I could not see the bottom of the crevasse pass the first several meters of jagged rocks.

I dropped myself onto a precarious ledge. The stone held fast, but my room to walk was narrow. I crouched low to gain a better center of gravity and walked forward. Soon enough, I discovered a large gap in the stone and the wafting stench of stagnant air. It was much darker than the tunnel, or maybe the less claustrophobic feel to the crevasse made the darkness all the deeper.

The gap opened up to a tunnel, one I vaguely remembered from a half formed thought. Ten thousand years of focus couldn’t improve my memory. I’ve tried. My pathway only allowed us to move single file. While quarters were cramped, we had much more room to maneuver. I conjured my torch once again and took the lead, flanked by two guards that stared woefully into the darkness.

It didn’t take too long before the ponies started engaging in some small talk, even Spike and Rarity. Most guards stayed quiet, but a few talked in low whispers to each other. I did not participate, for my eyes were glued to the receding shadows as I walked.

The tunnel soon branched into gaping, interconnected caverns. That was when I started having trouble. There were four tunnels, none of which differentiated themselves from the others. I stood for a few moments, trying to clear away the haze inside my head.

“Hey, he’s lost already.” I didn’t know why, but Spike’s voice kept making me think he was a girl. Now that I think about it, I don’t think Rarity ever said if Spike was a male or female. Hmmm...

Ignoring Spike, I turned around and looked at the tunnel was just descended. I thought I would have had a better chance of remembering where I came from if I had a look at where I was going. Left... I turned left to get outside.

I turned around and took the rightmost tunnel. I blinked; Rarity had already progressed down the tunnel with her horn alit. How did she know...

Rarity answered my unspoken question. “This tunnel is missing the most gems from the walls. I imagine you collect them like myself?” I nodded. She turned and pranced down the tunnel. “I thought so. Plus the air doesn’t smell so foul here. There must be a river within walking distance.”

I nodded towards her back. I remembered a river during my trek skywards right next to my cavern. The cavern slowly opened and expanded into a large renal-shaped complex with fang-like formations on the floor and ceiling.

“Let’s take a moment to rest.” I was surprised to discover that it was not the guards, but Rarity that issued the order. I tilted my head to the side, my go-to visual cue of confusion. Rarity smiled in the low light of my torch. “I know you can run forever, but we need a rest, Miner. A light break will do us wonders. We still have the trip back to town to worry about.

She was correct that I did not need to rest myself. I was at about half strength; plenty of vitality left for the trip down and back up. She and the guards were unpacking their bags. I set my torch into the dirt and conjured another. I always like to light up caverns, and now that I was certain that I was not being maliciously tracked, I did not worry that additional torches would alert predators.

Rarity tugged at my shirt. “No. It will ruin their night vision. They need to see in the dark.”

Then just don’t look at the torch. Problem solved. My confusion seemed to leech from my mind to my face. Rarity learned in close, her horn alight. “You need light to see... but your pupils don’t dilate in light and darkness...”

Was there something wrong with that? I could not discern what was on her mind before she trotted to the group of Night Guards in the far corner and dimmed the light form her horn. The unicorns had joined them and were talking animatedly. That had set up a small camp in the darkness and pulled out blankets for warmth and wood for a fire. “No fire.” Rarity ordered.

“Why not? It’s ventilated enough,” one said. His words were emphasized by a slight shiver running down his body. The deeper we went, the colder it became. I was fine, but their bodies couldn’t handle the cold as well as I.

“I am not worried about ventilation, dear. I’m worried about the cold.”

“So am I.” He folded the blanket over his wings and armor.

Rarity shook her head. “You misunderstand me, dear. The stones are cold. Too cold. If they heat up too fast, stone expands and can crack. A cave in would be most dreadful.”

I smiled. Perhaps Rarity did know what she was doing. That never happened in the Overworld, but I was fully aware that the laws of physics were not the same between worlds.

I blinked. Spike had jumped off Rarity’s back as we entered and had been staring at me the entire time. I wanted the runt to speak his mind and stop it, so I asked him.

“Huh? Do you have a question?” He scratched his head, and the light glinted off his scales in a prismatic spray of colors. I shook my head and pointed at him with a finger.

“Me? Do I have a question?” I nodded. He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. His little talon claws scratched against the green fin on his skull. “Well... I’m nine, but that’s still a baby in dragon years.” Then his hands clung to his tiny arms. They were covered in stringy, lean muscle, but were thin enough for me to wrap two fingers around. My own bicep was bulging with muscle and was about as big as his head.

“I was wondering. How did you get so strong?”

It was not quite the question I expected given his past lines of thought, but one I answered truthfully.

PUNCHING TREES

He stood immobile long enough for me to count the seconds. He didn’t even blink his cat-like eyes.

“...I believe you.”

Rarity walked back after having concluded her conversation with the guards. She extracted a large blanket loaded with intricate and frilly designs and carefully laid it on the floor. I could say anything about Rarity, but she was quite dexterous when manipulating objects with her magic or mouth.

I walked to the cavern wall and sat down myself. Jagged rock poked and prodded my back, but I ignored it. Spike walked to Rarity, his feet echoing with a soft pitter-patter, and curled up next to Rarity’s stomach. He was shivering, so Rarity pulled out her own blanket and neatly tucked it around both of them.

I closed my eyes and sighed. There was little in terms of ambiance, but I deeply enjoyed the quiet moments. The faint, almost imperceptible sound of flowing water, the sounds of rocks clinking and settling, and tiny creatures scurrying behind the walls all contributed to my willing languor. I could smell dust, sweat, and the lingering scent of water permeating the air.

I loved every moment of it. My senses were so much sharper in this world, or sensation in the Overworld were so much more dull. As kind as I have been treated, nothing could compare to the sublime love I held for something as simple as feeling the granules of sand by running a hand across a rocky floor.

“I envy you.”

I opened my eyes. Spike had begun to doze off in Rarity’s embrace. I saw his head protrude underneath the blanket and snuggled underneath one of her legs. Rarity herself was looking at me in the low light. I could see the light of my torch flicker in her azure eyes. She wasn’t just looking at me anymore. She was looking through me.

“How do you enjoy something so simple?”

I hadn’t seen such an inquisitive and yet piercing gaze. I was thrown off kilter and contemplated standing up to make myself feel more comfortable.

“I’ve lived here for quite some time. I know half the town by first name. I can even name most of their cutie marks.” She arched her back and the blanket cascaded down to her withers. Spike shivered a little and she tucked it back around him.

“This is my cutie mark.” She wiggled her hips to brandish the trio of diamonds on her hindquarters. I recalled her mentioning such a thing symbolized what a pony specialized in. It made sense why she accompanied me above all others; she specialized with gems and the earth. “I acquired it after a string of events I firmly believe to be fate. Certainly not a claim a lady makes lightly.”

Her gaze returned to my eyes after my brief examination. I still couldn’t discern her expression or where her line of thought was destined to end. “I find myself wondering the same thing whenever the topic springs to mind, but accompanying something else. It is a question, the most terrible question to ever exist. Despite my beliefs and affirmations, it sits there in the back of my mind, an ever-present reminder of bad tidings.” Her eyes bore into mine. “Surely you know it.”

Of course I did. It was the question that made me jump at shadows and screen all those I encounter for malcontent and malignance.

“‘What if?’”

Her countenance softened and her eyes drifted to the cluster of sentries and sentinels in the corner. I could see their outlines and silhouettes move in the darkness.

“What if things turned out differently? What if Rainbow Dash could not perform up to par that one time? Would another respectable filly have gained the Element of Generosity, or perhaps a noble soul down and out on her luck in the slums? Could I have earned the title by some other means, or would I have turned into some nag obsessed with political and social advancement?

“It scares me sometimes. Buried in my work or simply reading a book, a chill will caress my spine and my mind turns to those darker thoughts. It’s times like that I remember happier times like now, and see the smiles on my friends faces.”

I was taken aback at the deeply personal path the conversation had taken. Some ponies had spoken to me about their inner thoughts and desires, but nothing so heartfelt and meaningful. Locked in the darkness with only a torch to illuminate us both, I was the sole witness of a mare pouring out her heart.

“Our cutie marks symbolize what we are best at, what we truly enjoy doing for the rest of our lives. I make dresses and clothes. Equestria, our nation, is mostly occupied by rural working class, you see. Expensive dresses are a luxury item only purchased for special events or the upper class. Ponyville, even as a whole, cannot afford such items. My income will forever be tenuous.”

A tender smile crossed her full lips. She sighed, closed her eyes, and lay her head delicately on her hooves. “But I never tire of seeing those happy faces at balls, proms, and galas. It is my work they flaunt in the best of times. Every happy moment they have, a piece of me is with them to share it. I create something precious, even if I never get to see it. My talent is in the unseen, but I would never give it up for all the gems in Equestria.”

She opened her eyes and our gaze met. Thoughtfulness and ideology were on my mind, as similar words crossed my mind before. My world was brilliant and vast. Enormous mountains concealed treasures in their depths and were equally fraught with dangers. I will never forget the sound of grass crinkling underneath my steps on the open plains, or the grasses brushing against my palms and trousers. I knew exactly what she impressed.

“That is why I envy you.” She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “No cutie mark, no company, no voice, and yet you can take pleasure in something as simple as the ground you walk on. You find wonder and whimsy in small things, from the blowing wind to the running water. Ponies are happy to have purpose, but you...” she thrust a hoof to my chest, “you are happy to be alive.”

It was quite the profound speech. The central theme of her words, that I found more life in a single second then she, held true. Compared to the Overworld, Equestra was rich in life, character, and personality. I remembered the waterfall on my first night. Oh, such a thunderous noise it was. Even a memory was enough to make me tingle to my bones. Such an oppressive sound felt like it would crush me and it devoured the dull trickle and lifeless stream the Overworld produced.

My world seemed to be naught but a shadow. I loved and will forever love my home, but after Rarity finished, I realized that I lamented my loss with the emotional depth of one who lost a trusty sword or shovel. An inconvenience at best. I had not mourned the loss of my ancient homeland. Missed, certainly. Snowcapped tundras dotted with evergreens, vast deserts with little in terms of water or sustenance, and oceans that could stretch for even the longest boat rides were my life.

I lived to conquer a world, to harvest and bend it to my will. I chopped trees to build houses. I mined the gems and ores to create torches and vanity projects. I am a builder and crafter, and the Overworld was the perfect home for me.

But why did I feel so little for its loss? Perhaps a Nether Portal could take me back, if not to the nightmarish Nether itself, but I had not even contemplated it. Equestria did not bend to the same rules I had long since mastered; I can fall three meters before I get hurt, pouring water on lava turns it into obsidian, and nothing returns from below the bottom of the Overworld.

Equestria was strange, and yet so much more exciting. I had long perfected myself into complacency with my environment. There were creatures here that could provide me with companionship and intellectual stimulation. I had never experienced it, and now that I had, I was unwilling to give it up. I might never be able to go back, but I was not sure I wanted to anymore.

I... belonged.

Slowly, I leaned forward towards the pony, a hand outstretched. I had seen the one with prismatic hair perform a similar gesture of endearment, so I thought it was appropriate. I put a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. Rarity let out a baleful squeak of panic and ran a hoof through her hair. I did not tarnish her perfect curls that badly, so I wasn’t sure what the problem was.

“Well... I, uh, am glad to see you agree.” Rarity was flushed and frantically running a hoof through her curls. Note to self: don’t touch her hair.

SORRY

“It is quite alright, dearie.” Her eyes bulged to the point of madness. No, it was not alright.

“Time to pull chocks on this place.” The Night Guards and unicorns had begun to pack up to leave, They were surprisingly quick and efficient at the task. Before I rose to my feet and dusted myself off, they were all ready to go. I held out a hand to help Rarity to her feet. Hooves. Whatever. Spike opened his eyes groggily, not comfortable with the slight respite in activity. Rarity nodded her thanks. I’m not sure she trusted herself to speak after I violated her precious hair. The things these ponies valued... Try being ambushed by five creepers, Rarity. That would have put the fear of death into you.

THANK YOU

It was Rarity’s turn to look confused. She helped Spike onto her back before he mumbled incoherently and nodded off. Rarity looked perplexed. I noticed how long her eyelashes were compared to other ponies I had seen

“You are most welcome, but I am afraid I do not understand.” I wiped away the charcoal residue on my conjured sign and replied.

KIND WORDS

She smiled that kind smile and I briefly understood why Spike was so infatuated with her. The invisible dialog passed between us, and we prepared to continue anew.

The unicorns took a little longer than the Night Guards to prepare for departure. The black cloaks always seemed a little more pampered than normal ponies, sort of like Rarity, only more stuck up. Despite my issues with them, it was my job to lead them to our destination. I procured my torch, and started walking down the cavern. More of those odd rock formations occurred at random intervals. They were covered in tiny droplets of water. Odd.

“Rock formations,” Rarity commented. “They form when water drips from the ceiling.” Her words were echoed by the tiny sound of dripping as our progress crunched rock and dirt beneath us. I saw tiny flashes of light in the shadows; my torch’s light caught each drop as they fell. “As the water falls, it collects traces of rock and forms these pillars of stone when it collects and hardens.”

Interesting enough as the phenomena was, the conversation between a guard and a unicorn caught my attention. Their superior, the female that had been following me for most of the day, looked on in disapproval but said nothing. She started humming the same tune once more. It was a ghastly sound.

Our descent turned steep. The wide tunnels turned smooth with the walls and ceilings transforming into sword-like protrusions similar to the previous rock formations Rarity talked about. More than just a little water was exposed to this tunnel in ages past. Water had carved the tunnel in its entirety, even though it now carried the scent of dry air. The guards mostly took to the air and hovered behind rarity and myself as I led the way. The steep grade caused the grounded to slide across stone and dirt.

It did not last too long. The decline leveled off and bisected. I took the left path and the tunnel opened to a positively gargantuan cavern. It was likely the same large cavern that I had dug out of before when I encountered the pony guard monster, or whatever it was. The light of my torch was not enough to illuminate more than a few meters, but I could tell that such a drop would be most unadvisable for all present.

My mind returned to the pony. I could never trust my memory very far, but that one was seared into my mind. I had never been so scared in my life. I wondered if the darkness hid it as we stood on a rocky outcropping. Was that pony truly a rogue operative as Barricade hinted? Or was it some entity with clandestine intent?

I had halted for too long. “What’s wrong, dearie?” Rarity asked. Spike had yet to wake up from his slumber, but stirred as her hair brushed against his blanket. Rarity’s eyes eyes were filled with concern and worry. For me. As appreciative as I was, I was unnerved at the speed she could alter her moods and expressions. She would make a good liar.

MONSTER PONY

The female guard spoke up first. “There haven’t been any patrols this deep. Nopony could come here.”

One of the magi spoke, a tiny little thing that was almost consumed by his cloak. “Can you elaborate?” The female guard was about to protest, but I had already started writing. I froze; this exact situation was exactly what Barricade did not want, and asked me to avoid. I erased what was printed with a backhand and changed tactics.

NEVERMIND

The damage was done. My aversion to the Royal Guardponies was well known, but not the reason why. I could see the gears winding in his head, and Rarity’s.

The female Night Guard was not going to have any of that. “That’s enough. We are here for his little bastion, not some ghost in the darkness.” She glared at me. “Where to?”

BACKTRACK

I agreed with her. I was averse to the darkness enough as it was, and I didn’t need the mystery of the Royal Guardpony to add to it. I didn’t want to get lost, especially when the world held so many monsters. My thoughts were addled by the sound of skittering behind the stone walls.

I walked back. I never encountered any large caves such as that one on my path to the surface, so I needed to take the left fork in the road and not the right. My entourage followed, their hooves crushing and grinding against the stones.

The little black cloak unicorn cantered faster to walk alongside my left, much to the disapproval of the guard leader. Before she could speak up against him, he fell back, lining up with her.

“Captain, it’s Jetstream. Sergeant Jetstream. It has to be.”

She moved fast. Far faster than anything I had ever seen before. My own scrambling in my most panicked state was nothing compared to the speed which she whirled around and pinned her wing thumbs against his throat.

She immediately let him go. His eyes and mane were wild. No one, not even the open-mouthed Rarity, had anticipated the swift and violent reaction. “Don’t you think I know something went wrong down here? Now’s not the time for such talk, especially in front of open eyes and ears.”

He nodded rapidly. A pair of half moon spectacles shook off his ears and dangled across his snout. “Later,” he agreed in earnest.

She marched past me with measured grace and a straight back. Her eyes were iced over and cold as the blackest pits. Almost like...

I shivered.

“Lead on.” Her voice was calm and cool. That only seemed to make it worse.

There was that skittering again...

I ignored it and proceeded back and down the correct tunnel. Everyone was silent after the outburst. I could feel eyes burrowing into the back of my skull. I didn’t want to turn around and tell them off or confront them. I didn’t dare, especially if it was the guard with her cold eyes.

The tunnel opened up some more, but nowhere even close to the breath of the bigger cavern from before. I remembered it well enough; it was speckled with once gemstone and bore the same smooth floor and spiked rock formations. It was only a short distance away from the cave with the river. Indeed, the scent of water was much stronger. I could feel the dull rumble and roll of water further in the darkness. We were close. It was a gratifyingly familiar landmark.

What was not familiar was the minecart half full of gemstones.

Everyone stopped in a synchronized movement. The sliding of hooves and dirt made me look around curiously, but they were all stock still with ears pointing straight up. I remembered from one of Rarity’s talks that such a sign was one of surprise or alarm. Something was wrong.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity moaned. She sniffed the air and nudged Spike with her snout, rousing him from sleep. “Spike, time to wake up.”

The female hissed a few orders to her comrades. What words I did catch were too unfamiliar for me to understand. They loosely surrounded Rarity and Spike, myself, and the black cloaks in an odd formation. She barked a few words to the black cloaks and they steeled themselves for a fight. I knew that look, even if I could never see myself when it was etched across my own face. It was preparation for a fight.

“Oh, I knew something smelled off. There is nothing quite like the scent of wet dog.”

“That would have been nice information to know, Ms. Rarity.”

Rarity giggled. “You didn’t notice? I guess the Ponyville Press is right; my friends and I are more competent than you.”

Before the unicorn could retort, the walls exploded in a spray of dust and dirt shrapnel. I shielded my eyes against the offensive cloud as it rolled over us. One unicorn was smart and blasted the cloud with its magic. The cloud billowed and rolled down the tunnel opposite us. Blinking the particulates out of my eyes and slamming the torch into the floor, I conjured a sword to face the threat.

A dozen stout creatures stood across the room. They looked like some absurd abstraction between myself and a wolf. Whereas Overworld wolves walked on all fours, these seemed content and capable to walk on their hind legs. The legs, all four, ranged from lean to obscenely muscular. Most were shorter than me, but a particularly burly dog could look me in the eye.

Only then did I notice the smell Rarity spoke of. Wolves smelled similar, but my increased range of senses made it worse ten-fold. Some seemed clean and even well groomed with crude vests and pants, but the burly dogs in armor looked and smelled like they hadn’t bathed in weeks.

Most were clad in iron armor, even the big one in the back. Only five wore something resembling clothing. At least some species had some modesty, but theirs were more practical than anything, just like my own; they wore thick cloth to pad their hairy bodies from extraneous movement. Despite their bipedal canine appearance and small, ugly faces, they were capable of some kind of social structures, mores, and folkways.

“Little ponies wander down here? This Diamond Dog territory!” The Diamond Dog had a voice like gravel that hurt my ears. That one was dressed with a gemmed collar and tiny cut stones for buttons on his shirt over it’s iron gray fur. The leader, most likely.

The Night Guard leader’s eyes narrowed coldly and she prepared to speak, but Rarity put a hoof on her flank to silence her. Spike, now awake after the sudden eruption of stone, slide off her back and huddled next to my leg.

Rarity stepped forward. “I assure you we will not intrude or take your gems.” The pack leader snorted, which devolved into a series of hacking coughs. Rarity frowned and changed tactics. “We are only here... to give you gems. As a sign of good faith, of course. Ponies and Diamond Dogs have had a troubled history, so these guards,” she swung a hoof in an inclusive arc, “escorted me down here as an ambassador.”

It was rather funny when half of our numbers did a synchronized double take in her direction. Even me. Just what was she talking about?

At the mention of gems, the leader’s ears perked up and he eyed Rarity suspiciously. “Little pony lies. Keep gems for their greedy selves!”

A skinny Diamond Dog with a light brown hide nudge the leader with an elbow. “Tanis, me see no gems. Where are gems, little pony?”

“I’ll do the talking, Corgi!” Tanis elbowed his underling to get him to shut up. Corgi fell to the ground in a huff. “If you bring gems for Diamond Dogs, where are gems?” His greedy little eyes scanned us and fell upon me. Those in iron armor shifted as they too sighted the unpony in our ranks, and the only one that easily towered over the rest. I did not see any conventional weapons, but the jagged claws at the end of their beefy paws would tear me in half as fast as any wolf.

“What is that? Not pony.” Tanis’ eyes thinned. He idly ran a claw across the floor and his own guards shifted defensively. The sound of scraping iron echoed softly.

“Rarity...” Spike warned.

“Hush, Spike,” she whispered back to the dragon. She walked a few steps forward, as did I and the Night Guard. I still hadn’t caught her name. “Now I know from experience that Diamond Dogs are the best miners in Equestria,” I snorted. I didn’t care what she said. No one was better than me. “so my assistant here,” she gestured to me, “has gratefully provided his services in mining gems. He has a stockpile prepared for you.”

Rarity, we needed to have words. I did not have any such stockpile in my internal inventory. Lapis Lazuli and diamonds were already hard enough to come across. Why would I give something like that up? Especially if I didn’t have it?

Tanis wasn’t buying her story either. His long, lanky arms scratched at the ground once more. His guards weren’t so twitchy, but the sycophants were looking around in a mixture of bloodlust and worry at the threat of a coming fight. “I think little pony lies. Big thing have no claws for digging.” His beady-yet-slitted- eyes narrowed. “Or unicorn horn...”

His eyes shifted to Rarity. “Fido.”

Rarity’s eyebrows twitched and Tanis grinned. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

Tanis wasn’t buying her attempts to talk her way out. “Little pony knows Fido.” He smiled further, revealing his canines. “Isn’t that right, Rarity? Tanis know that name.”

Diamond Dogs wasn’t one of the species I had been told about. All I knew was the snippets I had gathered in the relatively short conversation, but I knew past grudged and the panic on Rarity’s face when she realized an old grudge had come back to haunt her.

“Fido and friends work for me.” He jabbed a clawed thumb into his chest. “Provide me with gems. Yes, little pony, Fido told Tanis about little pony’s whining.”

“I did not whine!” She shifted as her mind began to recollect. “Well, only at the end.”

Our own guards were quickly preparing for a fight. Some were tightening straps that secured their armor while others were counting opponents and examining the oncoming battleground.

My mind was running in an effort to diffuse the situation and follow Rarity’s line of thought. I didn’t have any gem stash with me, and I certainly didn’t tell her about any. Then it hit me, a conversation made only an hour ago.

“This tunnel is missing the most gems from the walls. I imagine you collect them like myself?”

Of course! I hold told her I collected them in the past! I had a huge stockpile in my mansion. Trying to be subtle, I wove my sword hand behind my back and replaced the blade with a single diamond. I still had a few spares that weren’t made into armor or weapons.

I stepped forward and brandished my diamond. Tanis’ soldiers leaned on their hind legs to pounce, but he held up a massive paw to hold them back. “What are you?”

Uh oh.

“As I stated before you rudely brought up that distasteful prat Fido, the kindly fellow is an assistant of mine. He is unfortunately mute,” she added in a rush. Good, as I didn’t want to deal with my own lack of willingness to talk.

Tanis gestured his head to me. Corgi walked forward to take the diamond and presented it to Tanis in his large paw. I hoped that Tanis would find the gem satisfactory; I had seen cut gemstones in the dark earth and in Ponyville before, but I had long understood that what I considered normal was not universal.

Tanis wasn’t convinced either. “Tanis sees you don’t have no more gems... take them.”

Crap.

The Night Guards slinked along the far wall in an organized movement, while a quartet of Diamond Dog guards leapt over Tanis and Corgi and prepared to face off. I dashed towards the cart, while Rarity retreated back down the tunnel from once we came and called for me. I ignored her. I had an idea and it was just crazy enough to work.

“Get him! He steal gems!” Tanis pointed a claw at me, and a pair tore themselves from the impending assault on the Night Guards and dashed to me. Me hands had already filtered through the gem cart and pulled out nine diamonds.

There was a dull flash of light as I worked my powers. In a single blip of clear crystal, the gems melted to a liquid and reformed into a solid cube of diamond in my right palm.

The creatures were stock still and quiet as a stone. The shock of seeing my powers for the first time had similar effects on other ponies, and I had succeeded in gaining their attention. The most common reaction I expected was hysterics. The second most common was quietly trying to make sense of what was obviously not natural in their eyes.

I couldn’t help but smile at their uniformly vacuous expressions.

One, the big guard in back, shook off his stupor first. He pointed at me and spoke with a thick accent, “Is not possible!”

It mattered little how possible it was. The surprise at seeing my abilities in action was still present and they could not shake it off fast enough. I had crossed the intervening space between us, dropping the diamond cube halfway, and thrust a fist into his face.

It hurt a much as I thought it would. An iron helm covered his head and his bones were hard and strong. The blow was enough to stun him and he fell without a sound of protest. Blunt force trauma to the face never worked so well before.

The unicorns and the Night Guards advanced in a coordinated effort. My stunt had bought enough time and for them to prepare a counter assault. The quartet of hounds were enveloped in varying hues of energy and thrust into the wall, knocking them out cold.

I advanced on the next guard, fists balled. The big one was the only one even marginally close to my size. I loomed over the rest, especially Tanis and Corgi. The next guard was a little faster than me due to his tensed muscles. The precious moments I had garnered were expunged. I huffed as he dove into my gut, tackling me to the ground. One of his comrades was trying and failing to fend off a pair of Night Guards. I stopped paying attention to them as quickly as I noticed it; I had a bigger concern to worry about.

When we stopped moving, I was on my back with him standing on my chest with his hind legs. I couldn’t see his eyes underneath his helmet, but I could see the smile crossing his lips. He rose both paws, dagger-like claws extending from each digit.

In a flash of color, a large cluster of gems flung itself in the mutt’s face and clung there. In a panic, he clawed at his face to remove the obstruction, losing his balance and falling off my chest in the process. I rose to my feet; Rarity’s horn was alight. She was smirking. Her forehooves were atop Corgi’s back. The Diamond Dog was intricately bound and gagged with the blanket she had rested upon only just before. Her color-cloaked horn was the same hue as the one ensnaring the gems. I nodded my thanks.

I stopped on the guard’s back, knocking the wind out of him and suppressing any more fight he may have had left. I looked for another target to fight, but none were present. As quickly as the fighting escalated, it stopped just as fast. Seven of the eight guards were captured, along with Corgi and two more of Tanis’ underlings. Tanis himself and a single guard were not present. Both whom likely fled when they realized they were outmatched in terms of skill. They could be down any of the dozen holes they burrowed to enter the room.

“Is everyone alright?” the female Night Guard called out. I looked around. Rarity and myself were fine, along with Spike and the unicorns. The Night Guards looked well, although some wore battlescars from the recent incursion. Most were superficial, but one had blood streaming down his face from a wound on his head.

I relaxed, only to wince. My knuckles badly stung. I may have gotten some broken bones from punching the guard’s head. Rarity, after tightening the knots on Corgi’s bonds, rushed over to me.

“You were brave, you know, dashing to our aid like that.” She batted her eyelashes and I looked away in embarrassment. I was already getting risqué looks from Ambrosia. I did not need Rarity to start making passes at me too.

She sat on her haunches and pulled my hand towards her, eyeing the wound carefully. The light of my torch had flickered briefly in the short fight, but kept burning bright. I could see Rarity examining the tear in my knuckles and the slight splash of red on the open wound. It was just a little red. I wasn’t gushing blood like the Night Guard, however that worked.

I could feel the muscles in Rarity’s arm tighten. Her eyes constricted to pinpricks and she looked in my eyes, confused. Scared. I looked around, expecting to see Diamond Dogs springing from the tunnels, but only saw the remaining Night Guards and unicorns aligning the grumbling and yelling Diamond Dogs along the wall in magical manacles.

I looked back at Rarity with a question in my eyes. Slowly, she flipped my hand palm up and brought my wrist to her cheek. She counted under her breath and when she was done, she looked at my wound. It held the exact amount of blood as it did when she first grabbed me. What did she expect to happen?

I pulled my hand away from her and conjured a loaf of bread. I healed when I ate, so I wolfed it down. I could feel my knuckles tingle as they gash sealed itself. I showed Rarity my palm, whose face had returned to its perfect smoothness. She could make a good liar when she wished.

“I am pleased to see that you are not hurt, Miner. Now, I have wounded to attend to.” Her nose lifted and she sauntered over to the wounded Night Guard. No trace of her earlier concerns graced her. She proceeded to remove a needle and thread from her packs and, after cleaning and dressing the wound, started to stitch him shut. He winced, but otherwise remained quiet. It was too bad that ponies couldn’t heal themselves by eating.

I was curious about the matter now. Walking over to the injured guard, I presented him with a loaf of bread to consume. Rarity finished stitching his head wound and proceeded to gather Spike and Corgi, leaving the guard to eye my bread curiously. Often the unicorns had tested the strength and effectiveness of my powers. How dense a material could I mine though, how much could I store inside my body, and what I could reasonably consume as food were all questions they asked and I willingly – and extremely grudgingly – answered to the best of my abilities.

The Night Guard grabbed the loaf with his hooves and eyed it suspiciously. “Nut the fuck up and eat it, you little bitch,” his comrade complained.

“One must not cuss and swear in front of a lady,” Rarity chided from behind us. The guard turned to give her a piece of his mind, but Corgi was unceremoniously shoved against the wall directly in front of him with her magic. He stumbled out of the way, only to get a face full of a smiling Rarity with a needle and thread between her teeth. He gulped and his words died on his lips. Corgi, however, was issuing a string of curses from behind the cloth in his mouth.

The wounded Night Guard sighed and took a careful bite out of the bread. He chewed softly, swallowed, and held a hoof to his temple. His wound had still not healed like mine. Over the next minute, he finished the loaf as the remaining guards secured and bound the Diamond Dogs.

All eyes were on him, even Spike’s and Rarity’s. He put a hoof to his head once again. His wound still hadn’t healed. There was a question answered. It wasn’t the food I made that caused me to heal, it was my own body.

“Well?” the cusser asked.

The wounded smacked his lips in thought. “I’d put it between the jambalaya and beef stew MRE rations.”

“Ouch.”

Heh, it beats dying you ungrateful whelp.

“What about these guys? Last time we met they weren’t this bad,” Spike asked.

The leader huffed and answered in a drone. “To the surface. Territory or not, this was an unprovoked assault. Despite your friend,” she nudged her head to me, “throwing the first punch, open declarations of foalnapping in front of witnesses is enough to get the courts involved. Especially if it was us.”

A trio of unicorns conjured chains to connect their magical manacles and a pair of Night Guards led them back the path we came from. “They’ll get off quick enough and be allowed to frolic for all I care. Let’s go.”

I didn’t know what iced the leader’s heart. Every word she spoke made her seem colder and colder. Whatever history Rarity had with with the Dogs cut off any complaint she may have had.

The rest of our walk was in silence, but I increased the pace. Rarity said that they could still track our scent and that Tanis might do just that as vengeance. I was quick enough to keep the pace, but I was pretty sure Rarity was not. I was surprised when she kept pace. I just kept lightly sprinting down the endless tunnels, swerving right and left with only a torch and the refracted light of any gems to guide me.

After a minute, I noticed a strange but not unfamiliar shift in the tunnels shape. The once rough and winding tunnels had started to widen and become more angular. The tunnel opened up to a larger cavern that ran alongside an underground river and the floor was conspicuously flat. The walls and stones lining the wall had much sharper angles while the cavern on the other side of the river was still full of curves and ridges. I had been here. We had made it.

“I recognize your work.” A unicorn ran a hoof across one stone in the shape of a perfect cube. His name was Diamond, I recalled. “Where to, fine sir? We seem to be at a dead end.”

He was correct. The path we stood on ended with a blank wall and was sectioned off by a river on our left, and a blank wall on our right. Walls were nothing to me. I jammed my torch into the ground to provide some light. Rarity never dropped the magic on her horn and a few of the black cloaks started doing the same after the fight. I didn’t need them. I knew where to dig.

I conjured my pickaxe. The disproportionately balanced tool was a comforting weight in my palm. My hand tightened along the wooden shaft and swung at the nearest wall. There was a brief spark as diamond met stone and the familiar fluctuation as my powers bent the world to my will. One more strike and the wall collapsed into raw energy and was greedily absorbed by my body. I cleared some more stone, at least enough for us to walk in single file, and watched their faces for the impending reveal.

There was a synchronized gasp of shock and awe across the guards and unicorn black cloaks. Rarity and Spike had their jaws open in amazement, and even the cold Night Guard leader couldn’t help but look on curiously. The cavern was fairly large, but something equally large inhabited it.

In front of us was a creation of mine. We stood on the back of a large stone courtyard leading to a great stone mansion. In front of us was a small, angular bridge over a still pool or river water. Although there was nothing of note in the water, the bridge was marked with intermittent glass tiles to see the water below.

The bridge lead to a small circular park with trees, grasses and an array of flowers was a bubbling brook in the center that led back into the pool. For flowers, they could see reds, yellows, blues, and even what I know to be common weeds arranged in patterns framing trees and other shrubbery. Flowers arranged in colored rows leading to the center of the garden where a great oak tree stood.

Through the garden, there was the mansion, a marvelous piece of craftsmanship five stories tall, one hundred meters wide, and fifty deep. A small set of stone stairs led from the back of the garden up to a pair iron doors. I had found a large collection of sand below this cavern and had collected and harvested sand for glass. Windows dotted the structure on every floor and a dull glow illuminated what was inside like a thousand black specters. Coal was not nearly as common in Equestria as it was in the Overworld. If anyone could find it, I could.

I smiled; I had yet to earn a reaction, and that pleased me greatly given the context. They could finally understand the sheer scope of what I was capable of. I took the time to seal the cave exit, collect my torch, and dispel my pickaxe. Despite the Diamond Dog’s ability to travel through stone and dirt as quickly as myself, I didn’t want to leave an open invitation. If they wanted to surprise me, they would at least have to dig through a meter of stone. It would give us a little warning if Tanis came back.

“It’s...” Spike was the first to speak, then Rarity and Diamond.

“That’s not possible...”

“How is this possible. I knew you were good, but this...”

“You have certainly outdone yourself. Quite the architect, you are,” the leader spoke. She had already recovered and was staring at me, oddly enough. It was... blank. Like what she saw was interesting, but I was what mattered. She tapped a hoof on the ground to get her charges’ attention. “Come on. We have work to do before we leave, and I’d like to leave sooner rather than later. I wouldn’t like to be cornered by a pack of mutts anytime soon.”

That snapped everyone to attention and we walked down the courtyard. Most still wore bemused smiles and delightful grins. I was rather pleased myself. I couldn’t help but puff my chest.

Rarity plucked at a falling leaf with her hooves. “How did you get all of this down here?”

Between when I had fled the monsters in the forest and when I returned to raid for supplies, I had been to the surface only once. I did so to better learn the lay of the land and gather a few meager supplies, the plants being some of them. It was for food, but I had to return to avoid the aerial reconnaissance searching for me.

THE SURFACE

“All of it?”

I nodded.

“I knew your powers were vast,” the small unicorn breathed, “but nowhere near this magnitude...”

We walked up the steps and approached the double doors. The leader was first and her body sank as she stepped on a pressure pad. She blinked in surprise as the doors sprung open. “Charming,” she said dully. She didn’t enter fast enough and the door proceeded to swing back and smack her right in the face.

The snigger from her comrades was quickly silenced with a frosty glare. She stepped on the pressure pad again, quickly cantering through. The rest filed in soon afterwards.

The inside was equally extravagant and grand. I had lined the walls with bookshelves and pane glass windows. Most rooms were devoid of fineries, but the wondering unicorns and guards discovered my stocked kitchen with a wall lined with stone furnaces and five dining rooms with glass floors and ceilings, and a dozen living rooms. Each room contained oak wood furniture of some kind, from tables to chairs. What few tree saplings I could find on the surface, I had planted in various rooms.

“This is wonderful!” Rarity exclaimed. She with Spike on her back explored my house down to every conceivable crevasse. I decided to follow those two as they explored rather than stay wiht with the guards and unicorns. If they wanted to learn about what I could do, now was the best opportunity to explore and discover.

I trailed Rarity as she reached the top staircase. Lodged in the back of the fifth floor was a single staircase that led to the roof. Rarity pranced up to the roof and saw the sights before her. It was one thing to walk through the garden and courtyard, and another to see it from above. Her smile widened and she gasped in delight. “This is wonderful, Mister Miner. Absolutely wonderful...”

Spike had been mostly silent. His impressionable young mind was just taking in the sights and smells as they came. Below was filled with the scent of cut wood and rock. Above it all, the three of us could catch the lingering floral scents from my garden below. I particularly loved the scent of roses.

I sat down next to Rarity, who was on her haunches with Spike by her side. I normally lit up the ceiling of larger caverns like this with torches, but I had been low on coal and charcoal in order to do so. I stuck to lighting my house and courtyard instead. The flickering light, along with the floral smells, relaxed my muscles. I wasn’t tired, but I enjoyed and partook the chance to truly relax with a friend. No tight quarters in tents, no curious black cloak unicorns, and every chance to build. I was content once again.

“It’s good to see you smile.” I jerked. I had not expected Rarity to speak and break the moment. She took my head between her forehooves. “Just like this. I want to remember you like this. You always seem so sad.”

My smile fell. No, I wasn’t sad around ponies. I was lonely. It tied with my lack of a desire to return to the Overworld. I had found companionship, and I didn’t want to lose it. I was scared I’d be alone again.

“Hey, big guy? Miner?” Spike was the one speaking this time. He too had ended his reverie. “Can I ask you a question?”

I nodded. I didn’t see why not, but my consent only seemed to make him more nervous. “I saw some of the reports when I was with Twilight. You can do some cool stuff. Just look at all this!”

“Spike, your question,” Rarity prodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” Spike was still hesitant to speak his little mind. “One of those reports was about your body and all that. You can talk... Why don’t you?”

I growled at him. It was the one question I didn’t want to answer.

“Geez! No need to get touchy.”

The guilt was sudden and sharp, but I ignored it. Of all the questions, he had to ask that. I huffed and curled up, putting my head on my knees and wrapping my arms around them. He wouldn’t understand. Everyone on the surface has had someone to care and love since time immemorial. Mothers gave birth to daughters and sons. They could never understand the crushing sense of isolation I felt and the seeds of rampant jealousy in my heart whenever I saw one of them. Friends, lovers, families, and rulers. There was always someone to care for them in the darkest of times. I was always alone.

I was used to being alone for the longest time. I don’t know how old I am. I don’t even have a name. The memories of such days long died with my first memories. All I can recall is a sense of... light, the first strands of sapience streaming through a dreary and clouded mind. I had forgotten when that was, only that it was enough to reduce mountains to dust with the eons and epochs.

Ever since my... birth? I was alone, and I didn’t mind. Of course I didn’t. It was all I new. I mined and built, because it was all I knew, because it was nothing but a faint instinct in the back of my skull. Build. Craft. Live. Kill. Survive. Grow.

I had no idea I secretly hated it all. Not until they came.

They came from the darkness, from the Void Fog itself. Running from or running to, I never knew. I never knew why or how, as I could never understand what they were saying. Shadows in the night, they were, with eyes full of knowledge, curiosity, and hate.

Endermen.

The first sign of sapient life I had ever laid eyes upon. The only problem was that they tried to kill me when I did.

I could not ascribe the delight, wonder, fear, and awe I felt at finally seeing another in my world. Mine. I owned it. I crafted it. And there was another form of life. Companionship, at last. The desire for familiarity and friendship had spread like a poison. I craved companionship with a desire greater than even survival itself. Monsters, villagers, and iron golems were blank and lifeless shells. Finally! Something that could talk back!

Only they rejected me. For whatever madness known only to them, they turned on me and tried to kill me. For just a few brief moments, I had someone to talk to. I rushed out the door and into the night, jumping over cubic blocks and hills. I could see them in the distant light of the full moon.

And they were gone. My first experience with Endermen teleportation. I almost died as they pursued me, all of them screaming in that awful call of theirs. I had to kill them all. I set off a magma trap and burned them alive. I had to kill them in self defense. Not once did their kin try to talk.

My first encounter with an Enderman. It was the day my hopes and voice died. I never spoke again afterwards. It hurt greater than any wound, any creeper explosion. They crushed my hopes at gaining a friend for the next couple thousand years.

Why was I always so passive around ponies? I was afraid they would do the same if I ever got too close to them. If they too abandoned me, I didn’t know if my heart could take it. I didn’t want to die, but living... I will rue the day when I die, when my debts are placed upon the scale of time. I have seen these lands over many years, seen the trials and tribulations suffered by many, but after each passing day, the pain I see no longer tugs on my heart as it had the previous years. I bear no love for family, honor, or land. I walk the earth, lamenting what was lost. I am a shell of a man, and I fear only myself.

Build all you want, Crafter. The hardest stone will never match the warmest heart.

I didn’t even notice the tears streaming down my face until Rarity dabbed at my eyes with a handkerchief. She rose from her rest and walked to my side. She sat back down and leaned her head against my shoulder. Spike walked up to my left and put a comforting hand on my back.

“Let’s talk about something else then. What you you know about that gateway in the sky?” Rarity asked gently.

Ah, the Nether Portal. I didn’t know a word for such a thing, so I did my best to provide one. I conjured a sign and wrote some text in both our languages.

AETHER GATE

“Aether gateway? To where?” She lifted her head off my arm to look me in the eyes. The name sounded strange on her lips. There was likely something lost in translation.

OVERWORLD TO AETHER WORLD

AETHER WORLD TO OVERWORLD

I could see Rarity processing what I told her. Deciding to add another morsel of information, I pointed to the word Overworld and wrote below it.

HOME

“This Overworld is your home? Why did you leave? Why come here?” Her voice was thick with motherly concern, and did not know her text for Endermen

TALL MONSTER TRAP

I thought about my last encounter in the Overworld with the pair of Endermen. One Enderman, and one Enderman that did not act like an Enderman.

MONSTER FALSE TALL MONSTER

“False?” My language skills weren’t that good, so I had to wait for her to try and piece together what I was trying to say.

“So... there was a tall monster? One of those tall monsters? It forced you to come here?”

Close, but not quite.

ONE TALL MONSTER

ONE MONSTER FALSE FACE

Comprehension dawned across her face. “So there was an tall monster, a Farlander as we started calling it, and a monster disguised as an Farlander?”

Disguise. That was the word I was looking for. I nodded.

“Hmmm...” She chewed her lip and help a hoof to her chin in thought. Not procuring any conclusions, she got up and proceeded to pace. “Which one pushed you through?”

MONSTER

“That must mean the Farlander came in unwillingly, or had an ulterior agenda...” I blinked. How did she get that? “I’m betting your Farlander friend knows the monster. As unpleasant as the idea is, the easy choice would be to kill the witness. This Farlander either escaped the monster by following you, or is trying to stop the monster.” She paused. “Or they are working together in some capacity.”

I wasn’t convinced, despite it being the best theory I had. My knowledge of Endermen was meager at best. What I reasoned of their language over many years was through trial and error, and I still wasn’t sure if I was correct. Relaying vague ideas I wasn’t even sure were correct would get us nowhere.

“So, tell me about this Aether Portal. Why did you make it?”

NO MAKE

CAN MAKE. NO MAKE

“Woah, woah, woah.” It was Spike’s turn to interject. “You can make those obsidian portals?” I nodded.

OVERWORLD TO AETHER WORLD ONLY

AETHER WORLD TO OVERWORLD ONLY

I could only make a portal function between those particular realms. That’s how it always worked, until the Nether Portal turned red instead of violet.

NOT MINE

“...So if you didn’t make it,” Rarity started, “who did? For what purpose?”

She trailed off for another minute. Whatever conclusions she may have made, she kept to herself as she switched topics again. “What is this Aether World like? I can’t imagine what it would be like to go to another world. You’ve been to three!”

I chuckled. I knew a word for this, and it wasn’t what she expected.

TARTARUS

Rarity’s shock was nothing short of sublime. “Why... why go there?”

SUPPLIES

The Nether is certainly dangerous. It is perpetually dim, heavy with fumes and heat, wrought with monsters, and home to gigantic pools of lava, it will forever be the most inhospitable place I know. What ground that is not consumed by lava is covered by partially molten Netherrack stone. Once on fire, Netherrack would burn forever, so the air is always filled with the sound of crackling fires. The terrain is dangerous, often having dozens of holes in the ground capable of hundred meter drops onto hard stone or pools of lava. The air itself is thick with sulfur, burning flesh, and effluvial horrors.

That doesn’t even do the monsters justice. Desiccated pigmen often wield armor and swords. They are normally passive, but an attack on one sends them all squealing for reinforcements and attack. I often found myself swarmed by close to a dozen before I could find sanctuary. Half the scars on my body are due to them.

Then there are the ghasts. Horrid, detestable creatures. They always flutter across the dry thermals, never touching the ground. They are massive, bone-white masses of flesh that trail draping tendrils under their bodies. The worst part about them is that they not only spit fireballs whenever they see me, but they issue the most depressive, gut-wrenching cry I have ever heard.

Lastly, there were the fortresses built into Netherrack. Monsters made out of magma lived there, as well as skeletal archers and beasts made of pillars of fire that were necessary for alchemy stands, and healing potions in turn. The Nether was a giant deathtrap, but also filled with some of the richest, most potent regents I could find.

“If this place is like Tartarus, what supplies could possibly be there? Could it really worth it?”

Despite my fear for my own life, I am not afraid of death. I don’t want to die and will fight to preserve my own miserable existence, but that is far from clinging to it with desperate pleas.

I LIVE FOREVER

DYING WORSE THAN NOT DYING

I cut the conversation off with that. I liked Rarity enough, but the conversations with her were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Spike and Rarity looked forlorn as I left. I wasn’t too concerned about the rudeness of the situation, only wanting the line of questioning. Rarity induced far too many existential questions for my comfort.

I conjured a torch and started walking down the stairs. I wanted to see what the other ponies were up to and stock up on a few supplies while I was at it. I intended my trip into Ponyville to be brief, but circumstances and flying through pane glass windows prevented that from happening

I sighed as I reached the bottom. I knew I should return to the roof and apologize, but I was tired of mental exercises such as talking. I’d do so later, I decided. Sighing again, I looked up. I almost screamed.

On the far end of the hall was... me. Only not me. In place of eyes were orbs of fire and light.

And it was gone. Just like that, it was gone. Gone. I was flabbergasted. I rarely – very rarely – hallucinated, but I had never seen myself before.

“Get out.”

I shivered. I had forgotten about those words. Once I infiltrated the town, I endured three visions through the eyes of some unknown entity. It was the monster that had pursued Shy Pony and almost killed her. It was the monster that had noticed I was looking on through its eyes and forced me out. It was the monster that had said those words in the same voice I had used so long ago.

Monster...

Could it be? The one responsible for sending me to Equestria was here?

Rarity and Spike descended the stairs. I could hear them cross every step, but my eyes were glued to the now empty wall on the far side of the mansion.

“Hey, you okay?” I turned my head. Spike had returned to Rarity’s back. I shook my head. I wasn’t okay. I really wasn’t. I continued walking down the empty corridor until I reach the center and opened a pair of double doors. Inside, the walls were covered with various oak chests. Although I can store items in my body, there is a limit of what I can remember what I have stored. I often create chests and store specific items or types of items. The first chest was marked by a sign titled:

I opened the chest, a simply made item by pony standards. Rarity got up to observe me root around the chest. There was nothing but a swirling mass of browns and grays inside. I knew what I was looking for by instinct and reached for a jumbled mass of brown, twisting, semi-viscous energy. The brown energy shot into up my arm and disappeared. After I collected my wood, I closed the chest and started searching another, this one marked as cobblestone.

The chest opened to a collection of dull gray gray energy and I extracted some of the larger ribbons.

“Now that is something.” Rarity and I jumped. Diamond had snuck up behind us. “Do you mind if I...” He trailed off, his green eyes looking hopeful. I gave an exasperated sigh and left the lid open. It’s not as if he could do anything with the chest. If by chance he could, cobblestone was easy enough to replenish.

I walked to the far side of the chamber. Rarity looked at Diamond before following me to my next chest.

Opening it, I removed several larger ribbons of turquoise. I could tell by both touch and sight which ribbon of energy was which, like picking out a single voice in a crowded room. It was easy to do; all it required was some practice. Diamond gemstones were thinner and faster. Diamond blocks, which could be broken down into gemstones, were thicker, almost viscous. I removed a few dozen of the latter. I didn’t know when I could return to the underworld and collect more, so I thought it best that I should stock up while I could.

Then I remembered a conversation sometime over the past few days. Rarity was a tailor of some sort, one that used gemstones. I could only figure out a use for the diamonds. I really didn’t need the other gems at all, and I did owe Rarity a few minor favors.

I scooped up a few rainbows of colors and held my hand up. I brought forth every ribbon of energy I could muster at once. Gems rained forth from my right hand. Rarity and spoke went from startlement, to confusion, to absolute delight.

“Thank you, Miner!” Spike dived off of Rarity’s back and straight into the pile of gems the size of Rarity. I don’t know how, but he managed to sink right through them. I heard a crunching sound soon after; I had forgotten that Twilight said dragons ate gems. Somehow.

Rarity was picking through them little by little, but with a smile that stretched across her face. Rarity always stuck me as carefully reserved. I had never seen her let her emotions be set free like they were now.

“You’re giving us all of this? Willingly?” I saw paw at a few larger gems. I could see the wanton desire in her eyes that bordered on blind, craven lust. Nevertheless, I nodded.

“Mine!” She swiped the larger gems from the pile and stuffed them in her pack. Diamond was encroaching on the pile with modest desire. My smile broadened. It was good to see the more childlike side of the ponies. I hadn’t seen them often. One of the few that would even dare approach me was a little orange runt with stubby wings. I had often seen her with Twilight’s friend, the one with prismatic hair. Her feelings had softened since our first encounter, but she was still too hesitant to speak with me.

I moved onto the next chest. Rarity followed, her saddlebags jingling and bulging with its new contents.

“Thank you most graciously, Miner.” I pulled out a sign and replied.

I blinked. My knee jerk reflex was that symbol, which meant gratitude. I hastily wiped away the streaks of charcoal and used her own tongue.

WELCOME

The last chest did not have a sign marking its contents. I sis so when chests were full of random hodgepodges of unsorted collectables. I opened the chest and removed whatever remaining iron, coal, and flint stockpiles I had. All three were in short supply, so it was best to keep what I could on me at all times.

I walked to the doors. Spike and Diamond were still focused on the pile of gems, so I left them to their own devices. My feet stopped just short of walking out. My head poked out the door, taking a quick peek left and right. Nothing was there; no unicorns, not guards, and certainly no monsters.

“What’s wrong?” Rarity asked. She kept her voice low, thankfully. I didn’t want to gain Diamond’s attention. I walked out of the room, out of Diamond’s line of sight, and wrote a symbol.

“Fluttershy? What about her?” Shy Pony’s name sounded strange coming out of her mouth.

Obviously, I knew she didn’t know most of my words, but she did know the meaning of danger, the third symbol, and Shy Pony, the last symbol. “I saw you write this before. Back at your tent.” My cage. “We always thought you meant you heard about what happened to fair Fluttershy.”

I did, but not what she meant. Tiny slivers of light filtered through the windows and across my face, highlighting my grave expression. I wiped away the ash, and continued again. When finished, I pointed to my head and then to the text.

SEE MONSTER IN MIND

HARM PHLUTERSHY

MONSTER SEE ME

NO SEE NO MORE

I did my best to sound out Shy Pony’s name, but my point was still understood. “You don’t see inside this monster’s mind anymore?” I shook my head.

MONSTER GET OUT

She turned her head to check for eavesdroppers and pranced closer. “I saw your reaction when we first met you. You saw Fluttershy before.” I nodded. I remembered that. Rarity looked unsure of herself afterwards. I could tell something was on her mind. “What did it look like?”

NO SEE

SEE THROUGH EYES

SOUND LIKE MONSTER

We reached the end of the mansion and proceeded down the next flight of stairs. Halfway down, Rarity reared up on her hind legs and gently pushed me into the stone wall. She didn’t use force, but her face was inches from mine, far more intense than before.

“I want to ask you a question, Miner. I want you to think very carefully before you answer.”

I admit, I was a little scared. Mentally, not physically. Normally, I would have the feeling of fear register on a physical level: fear of harm, fear of monsters, fear of the dark.

Fear of the unknown. That’s what I felt. Rarity’s eyes, normally so full of life or calm facades smoldered with intensity. It was a skill mastered by only three others I had seen before: Luna, Barricade, and the monster pony in the caverns. Compelled by some unknown means, be it the fear of what she intended if I refused or genuine curiosity concerning her question, I slowly nodded my head.

She didn’t ask at first. I got the impression she was searching my eyes for any kind of falsehood or trickery. Finding none, words dripped from her mouth. “Are you truly the only one of your kind?”

My mind flashed to mere minutes ago. Eyes in the dark. Despite that information, I didn’t know what that was. I had always been alone, and that thing was an enigma. I’d tell Barricade or Luna in more detail later.

...The same voice. The same body. Was I really alone?

Slowly, I nodded my head. Rarity’s countenance was unwaveringly vehement, but her usual happily calm demeanor trickled through and she was smiling once more.

“Okay.” She backed up and fell to her hooves. “I’ll collect Spike. We’ll meet up with you in a bit.” Before the pony turned to leave, I placed a hand on her haunches and she halted.

THANK YOU

She smiled and jerked the sign from my fingers. Bringing out a kerchief, she wiped away the charcoal stains and carved a symbol with her magic.

I had no words for the blossoming warmth that spread through my heart.

I was in the lowest level, farming out my chests for supplies. When creating the garden, I stuck most of my plants and tree saplings there in order to reduce running time. Even when building superstructures, I always made necessities such as ferrying equipment and resources as simple and easy as possible.

I shut the chest and proceeded to walk out before I halted. I heard hushed voices barely audible across the thick walls and low volume. One of them sounded like the leader pony. She was in a heated argument with the tiny unicorn black cloak.

“...telling you... cave...”

“I... say. We need more...”

“Czarina... Barricade... report!”

“I will.”

I edged closer to the door. I put my back next to the frame, but out of sight of the main door. I wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but the I couldn’t help myself but listen in onto forbidden knowledge. As the pair walked closer, their conversation became clearer and clearer.

“He needs... questioned.”

“Mind... place. Night... commanded... Hawk and Princess Luna. Not Czarina.”

“What of... Miner?”

“He’s Captain Barricade’s...”

“And Jetstream?”

“...Aegis will be coming...”

The two did not speak until they were next to the double iron doors of the mansion. The wooden doors to my store room were open, but neither seemed to pay it much attention.

“What I don’t get,” the unicorn began, “is why Jetstream did whatever he did in the first place.”

“That is still not confirmed.”

“Think about it. The Sergeant ordered his squad away and explored the caverns alone, despite it being a clear violation of protocol. He somehow finds the portal on his own in near complete darkness, with the civilian's help of course, without any incident? I read the reports before I started work on the Farlander Portal. The wounds on the Everfree monsters matches up with confirmed Farlander wounds on the Miner’s back.”

The leader was silent. The unicorn took that as a sign to continue. “All signs point to the Farlander being active before Jetstream went down here; it stopped immediately afterwards. The Miner came down here on either day one or day two, getting caught on day three. That’s not a lot of room for him to maneuver, especially due to the overwatch patrols and the Farlander antechamber being a half hour away from here. We know the Miner is alone down here. We know that Jetstream was the only Royal Guardpony alone down here. It fits. It has to be Jetstream.

“That we know of, Magi. The only solo Royal Guardpony that we know of.”

“But – ”

“But nothing. This is what we know. The Miner met a Royal Guardpony. The Miner is physically incapable of telling them apart. That is it. The fact that Jetstream wandered off like some pitiful drunk is circumstantial information at best.”

“I – ”

“I need hard facts, magus, not baseless conjecture. I believe you are familiar with the term unlawful imprisonment, hearsay, and baseless evidence. Despite your conclusions, you still have no proof. Use facts to suit theories, not the other way around.”

They were both silent for several minutes. I could hear hoofsteps above me from other wandering guards and unicorns. Magi, she called them. My memory was poor, but my hearing had become quite keen over the years. It had to be in order to detect the hiss of a creeper or the screech of a distant Enderman.

I heard nothing. I almost started to believe that my trusty senses had somehow failed me. Even if they did, I was doing something unkind by eavesdropping. Hesitantly, I took a step toward the door. Just after I started the motion, the unicorn spoke, “I will still file a report on what I believe.”

Too late. I had already stepped towards the dull light of the door. When my boot hit the ground, the unicorn jumped in surprise; he understandably did not know I was there.

The leader... she was a different matter entirely. Her eyes were frosted over in a cold, dark fury. She was glaring at the unicorn, who had his back to her as he was ready to walk down the hall. She had taken a step forward towards him, her teeth bared.

I took a step back. I recognized that look. I wore it several times before. She was slightly paler than normal and her muscles coiled like a spider in mid spring. It was the look of someone who was completely primed to kill.

“It is impolite to eavesdrop, Miner.” Her face had become her usual blank calm. Do you have everything you require?”

I couldn’t help but nod. I knew I saw what I thought I saw. The unicorn turned to face me as well. His cheeks were flushed with the sudden onset of fear and the calm immediately afterwards.

“You scared me, Miner,” the unicorn breathed in a rush. He inhaled deeply and let go of his breath.

“I will report your theories to Captain Hawk regardless, magus,” the leader droned.

“Thank you. That’s all I wanted.”

Her eyes focused on me. “And you...” The frost crossed her eyes and I swore the room temperature dropped several degrees. “you... need to learn to keep your nose out of situations where it does not belong.” Or what, you’ll kill me? “Yes,” I blinked. “somethings are not and should not be privy to your ears, even if it is finding your attacker.

“Now get ready. Boots up in five.”

I learned from Rarity that meant we were about to leave. I thought it was a good idea on several fronts; getting away from the memory of the monster, and getting the leader in a group so she wouldn’t do anything hasty. I hoped I was just being paranoid, but for a brief moment, I swore she was about to kill that pony.

Some of the Magi were complaining about not having enough time for research and samples, but the leader stated that they could file paperwork for a chance of returning once more. She said something about this being a proof of existence or something. Proof that I wasn’t lying would be more accurate.

The trip was uneventful. I half expected to see Tanis ambush us on our way back to the surface. It wouldn’t surprise me, but neither did the attack’s absence. The Dogs seemed quite dim, but Tanis struck me as wily as much as he felt rabid. He was a predator with good instincts. The only thing that accompanied us on our trip was a dreadful silence, unnerving quiet, and the unsure contemplations about what was to come.

The sun had already reached its zenith and was falling toward the west horizon. I could see the skies were tinted red as we exited the caves. Several hours had passed and it was well into evening.

We parted ways once we exited through my tunnel into Ponyville proper. Most Night Guards and magi returned to base, save for three that were my next guards, but the leader stayed with me. I remembered she said she was going to file a report, but that didn’t concern me too bad. My concerns seemed less and less worrisome after every passing second. I was getting weary. I hadn’t exercised so strenuously in quite some time for me and my body was adjusting to the sudden shift in bodily stress after languishing for so long. I was used to moving constantly in the Overworld. I had been in one place for far too long.

Together, Rarity, Spike, the leader, and myself walked into town. Spike had fallen asleep on her back while suckling a red gem between his lips.

I was following Rarity. Twilight and friends were named my custodians or something by Luna. I didn’t understand the finer details, but I could go where one of them was, providing they were willing and able to do so. She was not headed towards any destination I was familiar with, however. She walked to the center of town, which was absolutely packed to the brim full of ponies. I did not know what happened while we were gone, but some kind of meeting was staged while we were underground.

Ponies lined the streets of hovered in air. I saw several dozen sleepy Night Guards and a few off duty Royal Guardponies doing the same. I recognized a few ponies by sight, but I didn’t see a single one that I could assign a name to. Everyone was looking towards the center of the town square above the fountain.

Luna had awoken early. I had learned that Luna was primarily awake during the night, and there she was amidst a crowd of Night Guards for protection. She was speaking to the citizens, but we had only arrived for the very end.

“...and this I swear. I have seen ponies live and grow to become great. The Bearers themselves have proved shining examples of courage, dedication, and faith in justice even under overwhelming odds. Remember this. Remember them. Remember today. As dark as it may get, as afraid as you may be, remember hope is there to light your path. Remember this: stay in the light.”

The crowd cheered at the end of her speech. It sounded like standard hope-brewing to me, but I wasn’t one to judge. Rarity was blushing mildly at being called out by name in a public speech. The leader...

The leader was smiling. It was creepy and compounded by the fact that even her comrades seemed distressed that such an expression of delight was on her face.

“Oh, really?” she said to herself. She chuckled, a dark sound that made my skin crawl. She turned on her heels and walked away. I did not follow.

“That will boost sales for a few days,” Rarity said happily. Her and her dresses. Whatever would make her happy, I would not judge. I continued to follow with my guards trailing behind.

“♫Big~Boy?” Great, the nickname was spreading and the damn guards were sniggering. I was momentarily surprised; Rarity used the same name before, but over the course of a few hours, I had gone from not being able to stand her, to being closer to her than any other pony. I needed more time to think about it, but certainly not then and there. Slowly, I turned to see who had adopted Rarity’s pet name for me.

Ambrosia stumbled closer, the term being used quite literally. Her eyes were bloodshot and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. “Hello th-there,” she stuttered. “How are you doing today? No, don’t answer that. I like that strong, silent act you have goin’.” She started nuzzling my hand. her cheeks were stained red from blushing.

“Ambrosia, are you drunk?” Rarity was mortified at her behavior. I was just uncomfortable.

The construction pony looked at the sun. “Five... thirty. Give or take. Nope! Not yet, Rares. I’m just here to offer our...our... our mutual friend here,” she smiled in a lascivious manner, “an invitation. We have a job for you, if you’re willing. Meet Jim and us at the house. Rarity knows where it’s at.”

Rarity wouldn’t have anything to do with it. “Ambrosia, he – ”

“Ish in need of money,” she cut in. She hiccupped and her head and eyes started to droop before her head shot back up. “Just give it some thought.”

Without giving Rarity or myself some time to respond, she waddled away, unsteady on her feet but not falling onto her – spoke too soon, she fell on her face.

Rarity chuckled a little before leading me to a familiar treehouse. “That’s not the only news for you today.”

I tilted my head to the side. “We’ve thought about it for some time, the girls and I. We can’t keep calling you ‘Miner’ forever.”

I stopped in my tracks. Did she really...?

Rarity opened the door. Fiver other ponies, including prismatic pony and Shy Pony, were inside. The pair looked surprisingly eager to see me, being the most hesitant to ever even meet with me in the past.

“We’re going to give you a name.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Barricade is a character by KnightMysterio that I have been graciously allowed to use.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Cor Thunder, Hyperbole, Material Defender, arachnidsGrip

Author's Note

The underground scene in the chapter is not my first draft. If you are curious, take a look here and see what it originally looked like

And hey, somepony wrote a fanfic of my fanfic! You can find it here.

Chapter 30: First Blood

Chapter 30: First Blood

Most of the mares smiled as Rarity and her two bipedal companions stepped through the oaken door to Twilight’s library. The only exception was Rainbow Dash. She was not looking in the Miner’s direction, but made no active move to express displeasure at being there in the first place. Disgruntled Applejack and timid Fluttershy, the other two mares that had expressed other typical forms of displeasure, were actively enthused and smiling, although the latter was looking at the ground.

“Before we continue girls, I would like to borrow Twilight’s bathroom for a chance to freshen up,” Rarity said. As she entered, a trio of ponies followed and sat in the corner. Two were Night Guard, while the third was one of the magi who followed Rarity and the Miner on their subterranean adventure.

“Sure. Bathroom is all yours, Rarity,” Twilight replied. Rarity pranced through an archway and out of sight. The group could hear the squeak of an unoiled hinge, something that made Twilight’s eyelid twitch, and the sound of running water. The sudden onset of musk exuded from the Miner was enough to fill the room in minutes, but among residents with an active lifestyle like Big Mac and the rambunctious Pinkie, it was not unbearably unpleasant.

The Miner picked a corner that gave him a clear line of site of the rest of the room and the door. He slid down the wall and sat, yawning all the while. He conjured a loaf of bread and eagerly ate it in front of the ground. He seemed to gain some of his lost vitality and he stretched, pops coursing down his arms and back.

“So, Miner, I take it Rarity told you why she brought you here?”

He perked up at Twilight’s statement. He nodded, his face a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Twilight found it hard to believe she once regarded him as a cypher. Despite lacking a voice, he was one of the most expressive individuals she knew. She just had to know what to look for.

“Hey, first things first,” Applejack interjected and nudged Rainbow Dash with an elbow. The mare huffed and faced him with an unwilling look. “Come on, sugarcube. Get it over with.”

Rainbow Dash did her best to wipe the discomfort off her face and stood. “Listen big guy, I...”

“Yes...?” Twilight prodded. The Miner was looking at her curiously now.

“I said and did some things I shouldn’t. Like yelling at you for looking like the guy after Fluttershy and all that. It was totally uncool and... and I’m sorry.”

“Awwwww, good for you, Dashie!” Pinkie lept and embraced Rainbow. The momentum caused the two to topple over into a compromising heap. Rainbow blushed at the position of their bodies, but Pinkie did not seem the wiser as she happily nuzzled her.

“Miner...?” squeaked a voice. Fluttershy had advanced a few steps. “I’ve got something to say to.” Her eyes darted to him and her friends as she suddenly had the floor and spotlight. The sudden increase and eyes made her twirl a lock of hair and hide her face from sight for a few moments. “I’msorryIwasscaredofyouandIhopeyouwillforgivemetoo,” she whispered in a rush.

He cocked his head to the side in his go-to signal of confusion. He scratched his beard and thought, going over the Twilight’s lessons in his mind in a hope to clarify what she had muttered.

“What she is trying to say is that she’s sorry for avoiding you,” Twilight clarified.

“Yes,” the cream-colored mare said, this time with a little more volume to her voice. “It’s just that you, um, were a little scary.”

The Miner understood that. He was learning words and expressions at an astonishing rate, even if it did take several tries sometimes. He conjured a sign and a piece of charcoal to write a message for the shy pony.

NO HARM PHLUTERSHY

“Pffft, ha ha ha ha ha!” Rainbow Dash and Pinkie and had removed themselves from each other, only to clutch their gut in mirth and fall down once again.

Applejack chuckled as well. “Good try, hun. Still gotta work on them words.”

The Miner only looked on in bafflement.

Twilight chuckled a little more before calling the meeting to order. “Alright, girls. I know we’ve come here to give the Miner a name, but I want to hear about this trip of yours.”

“Yeah! Heh, did you find any mole ponies?”

Smiles and anticipation were abound. Through unkempt and often clumsy words, the Miner relayed the last several hours of trauma, fun, and adventure. Halfway through his unspoken soliloquy, Rarity exited the bathroom and helped him with her own side of the story. In awe they stood when the pair described the enormous cavern filled with vegetation and a mansion fit for a baron.

Pinkie displayed her usual boundless enthusiasm and looked as if she were prepared to vibrate straight through the floor with her eager trembling. Twilight took notes for future reference. Although she had volunteered for the assignment, other duties demanded her attention. To see the total impact, the maximum the Crafter could accomplish, would have been a memorable experience indeed. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash were both open mouthed and awestruck ever since he got to the Diamond Dog Battle.

After they finished, Twilight was again the first to speak, “Wow... I never had any idea you were so talented. You know, after everything gets cleared up, you could probably just build your own house here in Ponyville in a few hours. We’re already getting used to you being here, and I’m sure Ambrosia’s construction company can give you a job.”

He seemed very uncomfortable at the mention of the mare’s name.

“But that’s for another time.” He sighed in relief. “Miner, we have been teaching you for almost a week now and some of us here are comfortable calling you friend.”

“New friend! Wahoo!” Pinkie exclaimed. She reared onto her hind legs and a shower of confetti ejected from her hair. No one else but the Miner seemed to question that. He stared at her blankly, brain attempting to discover how it could possibly happen.

“Later, Pinkie,” Twilight chided. “However, we can’t just keep calling you some placeholder forever, so for everypony’s benefit, we are to think up a name for you. You still get to choose what you want for a name, so don’t worry about that. I spoke to Mayor Mare and she agreed to help completing a certificate of citizenship.

“Okay,” she rubbed her hooves together. The Miner had ejected himself from thinking about Pinkie any further and nodded in agreement. “Let us begin, girls.”

Twilight’s horn lit us and pulled several tomes off the shelves. Not a single one displayed even the slightest hint of dust, unlike earlier the previous day. Spike had been lax in his duties due to the increased fuss in town. “It’s a good thing I ordered these from Canterlot Library. Never thought these would be useful. Let’s take a look.”

Twilight flipped to a random page, coming up on a monochromatic picture of an old unicorn standing next to a stained glass window. “This one crafted most of the stained glass windows in Canterlot Castle. He – ”

“Oh, come on, Twilight,” Rainbow interrupted. She had taken to the air in unconscious instinct. “He needs something way cooler than some lame old guy’s name from way back. He needs something cool, something modern. We gotta give him show him the most awesome names first.”

Rarity was the first to her defense. She flung her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, spreading the light scent of Twilight’s aloe shampoo. “Go easy on Twilight and our dear Miner, Rainbow. Twilight is merely offering her graciously selected input and he is most capable of choosing his own name.”

Rainbow folder her legs to her chest. It would have looked much more impressive if she was hovering in the air like an imp. “Still, he’s got an awesome chance to choose his own name, not some lame name his parents give him.”

“Oh! Oh oh, I got one!” Pinkie balanced on her hind hooves. The ponies stared at her, waiting for whatever hairbrained name she may have conjured from her hyperstimulated mind. After a few moments, she still hadn’t said anything and was losing her precarious balance.

Twilight pointed a hoof at the mare and called, “Pinkie.”

“Ya know, Pinks, this isn’t a classroom.”

“I say we call him – drumroll please,” she stomped her hooves on the floor for added emphasis. The Miner looked like he was seriously contemplating running from her. “Tall Guy.”

It took them a moment to process those two words. “That was reasonable by her standards. Ah’m kinda worried.”

“Me too,” Rarity agreed.

“How about just Miner?” Fluttershy offered.

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like we haven’t been calling him that forever already.” Rainbow Dash finally sat down on the ground. “For my nomination... I got nothing.”

“What do you think so far, Miner?” Rarity asked. He was still staring at Pinkie but an elbow from her snapped him out of it. He conjured a sign once again and wrote:

THINKING. MORE NAMES.

“How about these ones here?” Everyone jumped in surprise. Pinkie somehow managed to do a somersault in mid air. Behind several volumes, Spike’s spine frill waved back and forth. He brought the book Twilight was reading in the center of the six so they all could read. “This guy here built the Canterlot Gardens, designed the castle, and it says here he theorized airships two hundred years before one was actually built. Guy got around and builds as much as this guy does.”

The Miner recognized the book and the name. He learned over from his sitting position on the wall and put a finger on his name. His face was scrunched up in concentration to try and pronounce the name.

“Daedelus. Day-Da-Lus,” Twilight said to help him sound it out. His lips copied her own. Her ears perked; for just a fraction of a second, she swore more than breath brushed past his lips. “The other pony in the book was a mason and artisan named I – ”

Once again, she was interrupted, but this time by Applejack. “What about a last name? We’re only lookin’ into first names here.”

“We can work on that when we get to that point, dearie. For now, let us focus on what is most pertinent”, Rarity countered. The fashionista had been quiet since the naming process began. “How about just ‘Crafter’? You do not solely build, but combine and create.”

He held a hand to his chin in thought and nodded in agreement.

THINKING. MORE?

She nodded politely with a comforting smile on her face. Neither had revealed the private conversation they had on the mansion roof. Rarity still felt the gnawings to share the juicier bits of gossip, but those impulses were reigned in for now. More important matters were being discussed.

A quartet of knocks sounded upon the door and interrupted whatever new names the pony friends might have produced. “Come in!” Twilight called to the new visitor.

The door opened to a quartet of Night Guards, all looking dead on their hooves due to lack of sleep but awake enough to continue whatever further work was required of them. One stepped forward. “Miss Twilight?”

Twilight cocked her head to the side, a habit she had started to adopt from the Miner. “Yes?”

“Private Frost, member of Princess Luna’s personal guard.” Frost bowed low. Even among the Night Guard, Twilight’s status demanded respect. “I apologize to everyone here, including you,” he directed at the Miner, “but I have been ordered to escort your friend to the princess herself. “She has business with him that needs to be taken care of as soon as possible.”

“Well, I guess a break from everything won’t hurt. We didn’t get too far, but at least we got enough names out for you to consider.” The Miner nodded, got up, and reached out a hand to shake Twilight’s offered hoof.

“Remember,” Rarity began, “This is your life. You get to choose how you run it. How it begins, how it ends, you choose.”

Princess Luna sat on a collection of embroidered pillows over a plush rug. She always had a preference of finery over simplicity, a remnant of a bygone era over a thousand years in the past. She could smell myrrh incense burning from somewhere in the tent, but she did not care where.

The tent was designed so she could receive guests as necessary, just like the recently departed Magus Diamond Solitaire with his report of the Miner’s venture. It was circular, allowing guards to line the tent walls as they currently were and observe all directions at all times. The two dozen soldiers, led by Captain Hawk and a recently discharge Lieutenant Lightning Chaser, acted as her personal guard. She was not scheduled to receive anypony, until a good four hours from now, but she did have an engagement to attend to.

The tent flap parted. A small collection of guards escorted the large biped before her. Clad in his usual set of blue pants and green shirt, he had not physically changed since they first met at the border of the Everfree Forest eight days earlier. That made her surprised when he walked in with a smile that stretched his beard across his face.

“Greetings.” The Miner made a very rough attempt at a bow. He had been seeing her subjects perform the exact same courtesy in her presence and thought a reproduction was in order. It was sloppy, jerky, and it was clear he was not used to the movement, but she appreciated the gesture all the same. “Rise, Miner.”

He did so. His guards removed themselves from the tent to give them privacy.

“You have no doubt wondered why I have summoned you here.” He nodded. “I will make it simple. You know that another creature came with you into our world.”

He nodded again and conjured a sign to write.

AETHER GATE

Luna ‘hmmm’ to herself and filed the word away for later. It was a good as name as any for the official archives. “Simply put, I fear that the creature may make a move that we will not be able to predict and hurt a pony. Your mind and memories are the key to defeating this creature. I request your permission to perform a magic to exped–” she paused. She wasn’t sure he knew that word. “...to hasten – the process of our understanding its motives.”

It was not the entire truth, but it was a truth. Dismantling the Farlander Portal wouldn’t be too difficult, but it was not wise to do so until they knew its motives. She was unsure if the Miner had any knowledge concerning the White Eyes or Shadow Pony, but that was not the point of this meeting. This was just a proof of concept, an experiment to see if her mentalism could be used on his kind as well as ponies.

He looked thoughtful. It was a promising start; he was not outright against the idea of helping, but she still needed to get over one more hurdle before she began. To her relief, he nodded and started writing once again, this time with a glyph remarkably like the face of the Farlander.

END–

He seemed like he wanted to write more than the single word, but either changed his mind or couldn’t find the correct words to express himself. He erased both the word and the glyph with the back of his hand and nodded for her to continue.

“What I request of you is simple, but requires great consideration on your part. I know a spell called the Mind Delve that will allow me to see you memories.” He blanched in awe and disbelief. After recovering, he shook his head. “I assure you such a spell is well within my power. I wish to see your own thoughts in order to find data on this creature, but not today. I have brought you to me only for a test to see if the spell will work on you. I assure you I will be gentle, quick, and you will not be harmed.”

The Miner did not speak, of course, or communicate at all his thoughts about her proposal. Incredulity, wonder, contemplation, and a sliver of fear came and went. Luna gave him his time to think. Despite the pressure for this experiment to succeed, she wouldn’t force him to accept her proposal.

CONTINUE

Luna smiled. Step one was over. “I do have a question before we begin, and this is important. I know you spoke of monsters and this tall creature’s ability to teleport. Were any capable of magic or mental attacks?”

He took a moment and shook his head. He was putting pressure on his legs back and forth. She knew he didn’t get tired as quickly as ponies, especially with his ability to heal wounds by eating. The fear he was contemplating running struck her.

“Fear not, dear Miner. If you are uncomfortable with this idea, we can stop right here, right now. Do you wish to stop?”

Motherly tones always worked the best magic. After her emotions raged on the moon in an ocean of ice, the simple and wondrous ability to empathize and care had blossomed within her heart. Although she hated to admit it to others, she had developed a love of kids. After she started her dream warden schedules after a long hiatus, fillies and colts were terrified of her. More than once did she have to vanquish a nightmare bearing her own similarities. It took work, and a lot of patience, but they had come to love her in the world of dreams. Warmth and tender love flooded her heart whenever kids would run and embrace her after she had heroically defeat their own inner demons.

The motherly instincts were rearing up once more. As strange and exotic as he was, he was a child in a sense. Only eight days familiar with the world, he was still grasping and scrambling to understand basic concepts. Patiently she sat. Rushing the conversation would achieve nothing.

He met her eyes with his own blue eyes and shook his head. Luna sighed in relief. “Very well, Miner, we will continue. Again, are your monsters capable of attacking your mind?” He shook his head once again.

“That is good.” She stood. Her hooves crushed blades of grass as she walked towards him. Her silver slippers, molded perfectly to her body, didn’t even make a whisper as they slid through the light foliage.

Concern and worry were still the two dominant emotions raging across his face. He had ceased fidgeting and held his ground until she met him eye to eye. “This is a privilege, I am certain. It will be an honor to see what grand creations you have made.”

A touch of pride tugged at his smile. If a mansion is what he could accomplish with meager materials in a day, she eagerly awaited what this brief trip would give her. She closed her eyes as she brought her horn down to his head. He did the same. After only a few sands down the hourglass, her horn touched his tender skin.

Luna awoke to a cacophony of color, light and sensation, and the feeling she was rushing towards an inevitable destination. The feeling was not dissimilar to a thousand other times she had used her magic to enter a pony’s dreams to alleviate nightmares. With enough practice, she could identify a pony solely by the mental stream alone. His mind was unexpectedly similar to a pony’s, if a little strange. She couldn’t quite describe it in words other than it just felt different. Ponies had a specific tenor to their mind; his just felt a little off, like the wrong flower in a bouquet.

As quick as it started, it was over. The flooding light was reduced to a bright flicker and she her hooves were firmly settled on something hard. That was good. As the mental haze cleared, it turned out that her surrounding were... odd, to say the least. She was in a very long stone corridor, the walls and ceilings built at perfect right angles. The tunnel stretched endlessly before her and a single iron door was to her rear. She normally didn’t need to see in a pony’s mindscape, but this one was intermittently lit by pairs of flickering torches.

“How appropriate.”

She felt the barest warmth on his skin. They didn’t give off much in terms of heat, but it would matter little. Her body was nothing more than a psychic projection, a shadow upon the wall. Luna’s hooves echoed softly down the corridor. There was dead silence, but it was a silence she was familiar with. The silence of a clear mind, of an empty mind. This was the doorway between cognitive functions, and thus untouched by consciousness. The silence was beautiful to her.

She looked down. The stone was perfectly smooth and composed of a light mix of gradient grays. It took her a moment to realize that the stone was the same cube of stone repeated endlessly into the far away darkness. Seeing nothing else of interest in the tunnel, not even an unusual sound or smell, Luna continued to walk until she came across the first set of torches. A wooden door lay under each torch. It was unremarkable in of itself, but it bore the mark of an object created by the Miner.

It was perfectly square with absolutely no flair or flourish. Simple and efficient, the mark of a simple builder. Everypony had their own unique headspace. Some had decadent elegance to their mindscape, while others had some representation of their own homes or towns. She had once seen an endless cave system that held ravines into darkness rather than doors and another where houses and areas stood upon a wide, open field.

She put a hoof to the door. It was the moment of truth, a memory on the other side of the door. She gave it a little shove and made the wood creak in protest. Reverently and carefully, the princess walked into territory only seen by one.

The world was wide and vast. A great, green plain stretched for miles on all sides until it touched a clear blue ocean in the distance under a lightly cloudy noon day. She was on an island, and a small one by most standard. The grass crunched underneath her slippered hooves. Luna bent down to sniff at the earth, only to realize what she expected to be the scent of crisp, clean grass emitted only the most marginal fragrance of flora; she could barely smell anything at all.

Curiosity stronger than anything, she nibbled at some grass, only to spit it back out. It tasted completely bland and devoid of sustenance. Odd indeed. She had heard reports of the Miner finding great satisfaction in simple bodily senses. She may have discovered a reason why. The world he lived in, this Overworld, was like a mirror shard that only showed a fragment of the larger picture.

Standing tall and flexing her wings alongside a slight breeze, she took a closer look at the island. It truly was a giant field, although she concluded the shores did look like a substance close to sand. She saw blurred images on the horizon, but that was natural in a memory; she wouldn’t be able to identify anything the Miner had not done or seen himself. The Mind Delve would only construct images for her of things the Miner had seen himself. If he hadn’t seen it, it would appear blurry like a picture of a rapidly moving pony.

Turning towards the island’s epicenter, she couldn’t help but hum curiously. The land was... misshapen. Instead of the indents, curves, burrows, and general uneven terrain one would expect from grasslands, the land was perfectly flat, save for a hole near the center. It was mathematically perfect, and Luna couldn’t believe it. She had seen the Crafter’s conjuring experiments first hoof, along with the Aether Gate’s unique ninety degree dimensions, but that was nothing compared to the island. It was an entire island, an entire environment composed out of cubical blocks. Luna wasn’t sure if she should laugh or marvel at the absurdity.

She continued towards the hole in the field. There were sporadic clusters of roses and dandelions amongst tall grasses that brushed against her knees. As she came closer, the sound of striking stone became louder and louder.

As she peared from the hole’s outer rim, she saw the entire pit was not cut like a natural depression. Just like the Miner’s conjured cubes, the pit had square meter cubes of stone or dirt defining the pit’s extremities. It was a cubist’s greatest dream, an entire world made out of blocks. Seeing the land either run horizontally or rise vertically produced a bubbling giggle from her throat. The Overworld was just so wondrous and fascinating, just like how the Miner saw Equestria.

She spread her wings and descended into the pit. Even though there were cubic steps for her to walk down, the decline quickly proved too sharp and required wings to traverse. The bottom of the pit was not too deep, but she appreciated the chance to fly, even if her body was nothing but a mental projection of her physical form.

The light dimmed as she dropped lower and lower into the Overworld depths. The darkness induced by lack of direct sunlight soon lifted; a new source of light was below. Her hooves settled onto cold stone cavern. Her environment was illuminated by simple and familiar torches, one of the callsigns of the Miner. The being in question was standing against the far wall, hammering away with an iron pickaxe and dressed in his usual green shirt and worn blue pants. A tunnel into darkness lay to his left and was intermittently lit by torches. Did he burrow underneath the great ocean to get here?

His back was to her and she saw him striking smooth gray stone cubes with his tool. The familiar ripple of power coursed across the cube as it lost molecular cohesion before a few more strikes made it burst. The stone liquified into ribbon of energy and snaked into his body in a flash.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, still not facing her. Now that he had ceased his labor, she could see several block of stone contaminated with some type of brown or orange ore, likely copper or iron like his pickaxe. He was mining around them in order to better gauge the extent of the mineral vein.

Done with his momentary respite, he continued, only now mining for the ore. Luna unfurled her wings. The rustling of fur and feather did not even make him flinch. She did not expect it, for this was only a memory and she was all but invisible to his senses. Rising out of the hole, she returned to the door and shut it with a soft click and the groan of wood.

Luna smiled. It really was a fascinating world he lived in. She had the sneaking suspicion he carved that pit himself in order to search for ore. If he had made the tunnel, it was a distinct possibility. She had heard the report concerning the mansion underground. If reports were to be believed, he had built and carved the entire underground in a day. He did not have the versatility of a normal unicorn magician, but his building, crafting, and architectural skills were absolutely unparalleled by all but the most staunch savants.

She cantered down the hallway some more and shuddered from a drafty chill. Normally the corridor would be aligned to present newest memories to oldest or vice versa, but today’s experiment was for testing purposes only; there would be no pattern to the Miner’s mind. One more memory should do before she called the experiment a success or failure. She was doing well enough to consider the former.

Luna shivered from anticipation and selected another door at random. It was identical to all other doors in every way right down to the flickering torch light marking its presence. Pushing open the door, she gasped in delight; it was snowing.

The door opened to a snowy vale. It was night, but the surrounding landscape was well lit with hundreds of torches. She was at the base of a large mountain on a well-lit brick pathway. The snow had long melted within the area of torchlight, even though the heat they exuded was not enough to remove the chill from the air or melt snow.

The white mountains were drenched in a thick layer of white and were dotted with evergreens. Luna blinked in confusion. The tree trunks were all perfectly square, as were the leaves. The canopies were all composed of the same meter blocks of foliage, just like the wood, and the items he could conjure in Equestria. It gave her the feeling the entire world was constructed by his hands.

In a fit of the same childish curiosity, Luna stuck out her tongue to catch one of the lazily drifting snowflakes descending from the heavens. It tasted as bland and uninteresting as the grass. It was just wet.

Brow furrowing in contemplation and irritation, she walked down the lit brick path. The nearest mountain had a very long set of steps leading up to the peak and was surrounded by a stout stone wall with battlements. A structure was carefully nestled at the top, an impossibly precarious mountain home. Rather than climb the entire mountain, even under the comfort of good light and and sturdy steps, she desired a little haste in her search despite her admiration of the scenery. The house was a good place to start.

Unfurling her wings once again, she took to the air and beat her wings. Only then did she realize the utter scope of the world at large. He must have visited this place often, for the world was defined in stunning detail. Although made entirely of cubical blocks, the mountains stretched for miles, like claws reaching out of the earth. Wedged in between two mountains to the right of the vale was a lake fed by a waterfall protruding from a mountain cliff face, complete with a shack and dock. She could see creatures swimming underneath the surface, but were too far away and too dark to be identified.

Her ears perked. She hears a noise akin to a grumble and a growl. Only then did she realize she and the Crafter were not alone. Shadows lingered and lurched in the night outside the wall. Given that this was a dream and subjective to personal experience, they were all undefined masses of darkness. Shadowy constructs likem were built when the recipient knew what the object was, but not exactly where it was. The Miner knew what they were, but did not know their exact location, only that they were somewhere nearby; they had to be the Overworld monsters he spoke about. One shadow creature lurched back and forth on four legs, while a group of another collected in a group and limped as if severely wounded. She recalled Captain Barricade made him promise to describe his world’s monsters in better detail. She made a mental note to ask about that herself when the details were compiled.

The mountain top was crowned by a winter lodge. A small stone courtyard containing tables, a fire pit, and chairs filled the immediate area. It seemed a little half hazardly slapped together, lacking the grace and aesthetic duality seen in the underground mansion report. What she thought were street lamps... well, they were street lamps. A symmetrical set of eight street lamps lined the courtyard. Instead of a torch or gas lantern, a single stone cube hung from the top of a wooden streetlamp and radiated comforting light. It looked similar to cobblestone but was composed of dull yellows and light browns. Luna rose onto her hind legs and nuzzled the stone. It was very smooth and felt like glass, but was cool to the touch despite the outpouring light.

His world grew more fascinating every moment.

As she approached, she heard a deep bass sound coming from the structure before a few additional moments identified it as a series of beats. It was a song, although an albeit mechanical and lifeless one.

The house itself was quite grand, if much smaller than the mansion. The base was composed entirely of cobblestone, while the remaining materials were largely wood. The steps lead to a deck jutting out several meters from the wood walls. Above the iron doors was a large glass window stretching both floors and stopping just short of the cross-gabled roof. The wooden divider separating the first and second floor was lined with torches. Come to think of it, the Miner was quite obsessed with good lighting, but with monsters pawing outside the walls, Luna supposed she couldn’t blame him.

Luna continued up the steps and teleported inside. The first floor was quite a fine place. Bookshelves lined the far walls while a stone hearth crackled on the far right. Rather than burning wood, some type of reddish stone burned without any recognizable source of fuel or kindling. Even more odd.

Some small workshop was tucked under the stairs to the left, right next to a set of windows on the back wall. Several stone furnaces stood cold yet stuffed with charcoal kindling. Some type of chemistry set lie next to a pair of chests, the same the magus described in the report.

A soft snoring caught her attention. She had missed it during her pan, but a bed with woolen sheets tucked right next to the hearth was the architect himself. The Miner lay sprawled across its surface, not even bothering to remove a pair of iron boots or a shirt that looked like it hadn’t been washed in many days. His brown hair was unkempt and a pickaxe showing signs of use and damage had been carelessly set at the foot of the bed. He looked so peaceful by himself, so without care or worry. So happy.

Luna knew that she could not wake him even if she tried. As quietly as she came she left through the very same door. She had seen enough for a test run, and she agreed she would not go any further than she had already. She spread her wings and glided to the battlement walls. It was a very sturdy defense, very much like the walls securing Canterlot itself. She knew he claimed his world had monsters, but the only one confirmed was the Farlander. Scanning the darkness, she didn’t see anything truly definable. Normally she could see through the night with unerring accuracy, but they may have been something about the Miner’s mind that prevented her from seeing clearly beyond the first thirty or forty feet. She could still see, but shapes were ill-defined at best. That, or it was something more than darkness; physics and basic structure governing the Miner and his powers varied greatly between him and ponies. It could very well be that something as simple as light worked differently in the Overworld, as strange a concept as that sounded.

The shadows did not give her much to accurately gauge their body or shape. The groaners appeared to be bipedal like the Miner, but were still slow enough to outrun at a brisk canter. The quadruped did not make the slightest noise and had short stubby legs, very unlike her own long, slender form. Yet another creature had many more legs and hissed. The shadows clinging to its body were too numerous for an accurate number, but it was as large as a pony, if very short.

“Well, well, well...” Luna whispered with satisfaction. She had spotted another monster, this one also undefined due to the Miner’s sleepy recollection. What made this one different was the shape. Close to ten feet tall and thin as a rail, a monster growled and gurgled under an evergreen on the far side of the vale. Tall, thin, and black as night. The exact description of a Farlander. “Hello, Farlander.”

It turned around. It couldn't possible have heard her from that distance; it had to be at least a quarter mile away. Unlike the other monsters who were still vague and undefined, this one had a detail the others didn’t, one the Miner had yet to describe: eyes made of a bright, deep violet.

“Uuuuuuuuuuhhh...”

She heard something on the wind, a low, deep growl that was a mix between a thousand lamenting screams and the the hiss of an angry Changeling. Luna tensed in surprise and worry; nightmares and dream projections normally ignored her... Except when a dreamer felt so passionately about something, those traits transfer to the dream and all who view it. She recalled a memory from what seemed like so long ago.

“Our initial estimates believe that this creature is capable of teleportation in addition to a high stealth quotient. He also expressed a deep desire to not look the creature in the eyes.”

Never look it in the eyes, or anywhere near its face for that matter; she had forgotten that fact. Luna blinked to better focus.

BAMF!

It was gone.

It couldn’t have disappeared so fast. Then again, Farlanders could teleport. Never blink, never lose eye contact, lest you wish the fiend to strike. It was an intimidating deterrence to be sure.

“Hhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....”

Luna’s ears flattened against her skull and her wings flared. She had faced nightmares before. This one should not be different.

Should not.

She darted her head to the side upon hearing the creature’s phantasmal scream. It was much closer now, now only just outside the gate. Magic would not work in a dreamscape, only her own force of will to temporarily change the dream or memory. The memory would eventually revert to its original state, but it would give her precious time. She focused her mind on the shadow creature, forcing it to banish itself from existence.

BAMF!

It was already gone and the energy dissipated into nothingness.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagghh...”

Luna had enough. Rather than fight the creature, she spread her wings and flew for the wooden door on the other side of the wall. Pain laced up her flank as something dank and foul touched her skin. Though only a memory, the pain felt very real and she fought the hiss building in her throat.

She reared up on her forelegs and bucked. Her hooves sizzled at the creature’s touch and partially melted, but the creature let go. She braced herself and launched into the air, that did not stop the creature from teleporting and continuing its horrid din. It was right behind her. It had to be. She knew it had to be.

BAMF!

A little closer. She turned on a bit and launched another attack.

BAMF!

“Blasted creature! We understand the Miner’s distaste for thee!”

She had reverted to her familiar tongue under the stress. Something hissed through the air, barely missing her hindquarters. She put on a blast of speed. It was right behind her. That scream was in her ears and its eyes on her neck. It kept crescendoing, growing louder and louder until it clawed at her soul.

“GGGGRRRRAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

Luna flung the door open with her magic and shut it behind her. She huffed in irritation and relief. The Farlander couldn’t kill her in the dreamscape, but that was a small comfort. The Miner’s memories of the creature were intimidating indeed. Memory was notoriously fallible, but if this was anywhere close to the truth, she would hate to have her ponies face one in real life. Her flanks ached at the thought.

She didn’t want to admit it, but the Farlander and its scream unnerved her. It couldn’t get through the door and outside the Miner’s memory cortex, but she couldn’t help but back away from the door.

“Vile beast,” she hissed. She winced and turned her head to her flank. Where there should have been a chemical burn was nothing but carefully groomed fur and flawless skin. Outside the memory, the damage inflicted by the Farlander vanished. She could still feel the phantom pain in her hooves and flank. In normal circumstances, fighting such a creature wouldn’t be so problematic, but it was not possible to destroy or capture a memory in such a manner. She was not as of yet prepared for such an encounter.

“Thank you for the awakening, Farlander.” Her gratitude was genuine. As embarrassing as running away from a mental fragment was, the sobering experience was enough to teach her how dangerous the Miner’s monsters truly were. “I will not make the same mistake twice.”

She shivered under the chill once more. The recurring draft in conjunction with the sudden drop in adrenaline required a small price to be payed. She took a few moments to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. Save for the recent hiccup, it was quite the enlightening experience in terms of knowledge and cultural understanding. It was easier to understand how the Miner felt in his early days in Equestria, trapped and alone. Those were only two memories of countless, but both had impressed the sense of isolation and loneliness, two emotions she understood all too well.

...

Draft...?

Luna looked up. She was coasting inside the Miner’s memory cortex. She was inside the buffer between conscious and unconscious thought. The space should be a reflection of the mind, and the mind only. The doors along the corridor accomplished that. How could there possibly be a draft?

Luna turned herself perpendicular. The increased surface area on her abdomen and hindquarters would better allow her to discover which direction the draft was coming from. His mind was an enclosed tunnel. No other mind in Luna’s experienced such additional traits. She felt the slightest breath of wind on her flank indicating it was coming further down the corridor, not from the direction of the iron door. Curious and cautious, yet worried how the new development bode for the Miner, she walked forward.

Her recent experience with the Farlander and the new development had her on edge. She could handle big divergences from the norm, but not the little ones. Little ones looked normal at face value, but contained just enough variety to keep her off balance. She did not like that.

Slowly she walked down the stone corridor, ears open, mouth closed, and guided by nothing but the slight wind. What felt like an hour was but a few minutes of dragging suspense. She had found the source of the draft.

Wedged between the safe light of two torches on the left wall was a rupture in the wall. As it was a physical representation of the Miner’s mind, that certainly wasn’t good. The stone was cracked and cubic rubble lay on the floor. Through the opening was nothing except a vast endless blackness devoid of anything. No light, no stone, no memory, no nothing, just an empty gateway into the Miner’s own raw subconscious. What could possible cause such damage to his own mind? The Farlander, although violent upon eye contact, did not display behavior typical of a cognitohazard threat. The Miner even insisted no monster he has ever seen was capable of mental warfare, at least not that he was aware of. Could another monster have done the deed?

She took to the air and cautiously entered the void. The rupture was placed inside an impossibly tall stone wall that stretched in all directions. Where she expected doors to be on the other side of the wall was nothing but smooth stone; an impossibility brought on by something going wrong outside of her spell’s capabilities and area of influence. Nothing was present in the darkness and only the slow thudding of her own heartbeat kept her company. Looking at the damage, the mar was rather precise. No exterior damage other than the hole itself. At least it was a clean wound in his subconscious.

Luna almost missed the ultrathin thread brush past her snout. A single black strand as dark as the void floated past her eye and lead deeper into nothingness. This was a phenomenon she was not familiar with. It was extremely rare to see damage to the subconscious, but she had seen it enough to know it should not conjure something like the in somepony’s mind.

Well, it had to lead to something.

There was no definite ground, ceiling, wall, or any point of reference other than the light streaming through the unfathomable wall. The chill was coming from everywhere and nowhere. Luna drifted down further and further into the dark guided by nothing but the thread. She made extra care to not touch it, at least not yet. It was better to see where it led first.

There was no gravity there, so she needed careful maneuvering with her wings in order to find purchase against the weightlessness. The deeper she drifted, the harder pressure on her head and horn began to build. She was going deeper than she should or had a right to traverse. It was dangerous to enter the mind in the manner she currently used. Down in the dark, in the core of a person’s mind, she could easily be overwhelmed. If she got stuck in a memory or the subconscious, she could be trapped forever, stuck in limbo while her body became a shell without a soul.

Reluctantly, she beat her wings and rose to the pinprick of light far above her. She still did not wish to touch the thread, although doing so now looked like the only way to discover its purpose. Before she made any hasty decisions, she flew higher and higher until the hole in the wall was within hoof’s reach.

She swerved around to look at the black thread. It moved back and forth like a cloud or balloon lazily moving in the wind. Back and forth, no direction or pattern whatsoever. It was not long enough to enter the corridor... but it was just long enough to touch it.

“Were you connected to his mind?” she asked the thread.

She waited for a response. Just in case.

She sighed and rubbed her head with her hooves. “I am talking to thread...” she lamented. Sighing again, she made up her mind. She would will the other end of the thread to come forth to her rather than trying to find it herself. If nothing in the Overworld was capable of mentalism, she wanted to find out what was. As the corridor was not desirable for maneuverability, she remained in the unconscious void. At least there, she could fly and had the advantage of being able to see in the dark. Whatever darkness present in the Overworld was not present in the unconscious mind. Slowly, excruciatingly slow, she reached for the black thread. She prepared a ball of mental energy in case it came to a fight, one separate from the one used to summon whatever was on the other end of the thread. It was represented as a shimmering orb right next to her shoulder. Somehow she had a feeling it would come to that. Closer and closer her hoof came to the thread. It radiated nothing. No light, no heat, no energy, no magic.

They touched.

WIth a sudden and rapid hiss, the thread recoiled away from her into the darkness before she had a chance to cast her magic. Luna’s ears flattened against her skull once more, ready for a fight. She waited. And waited. Seconds became minutes. Minutes stretched on and on. The tension in the air was thick and Luna’s body screamed for a reason to pounce rather than stay coiled without cause. She fluttered her wings to hover in place, waiting to see what would happen.

Nothing.

Luna sighed as softly as she could. She didn’t know what it was, but it was gone and not coming back it seemed. Muscles tensed, she twirled in place to enter the corridor.

The light was gone.

“Not possible!” Luna exclaimed. She rushed to where the corridor once was, frantically searching for the fissure. It was smooth stone. Everything was smooth. She raced along the wall in both directions. Her hooves came into contact with nothing but cold stone. “What devilry is this!?”

No one responded and the silence was deafening. It was quiet and the silence was no longer comforting. She was trapped in the Miner’s subconscious with no possible way out. Well, she could try her hoof at bashing through the cobblestone, but that might do more harm than good.

Luna fluttered around a little more. She needed to think. She touched the thread. The next thing she knew, her only exit had vanished. The easiest answer was that the first caused the second. She hovered in the air, carefully beating her wings to keep them ready for movement. She needed the chance to fight back if it was needed.

Something caught her eyes, a tiny flicker of light in the darkness. It couldn’t be the resurgence of the corridor fissure; she had kept a limb or tail next to the stone at all times in order to remember its position at all times. She could still see in the dark, but the mind was an unpredictable place and risks were best to be minimized.

Another light flickered. Luna felt the impulse to pursue, but reign in her usual brash behavior. Now was not the time to make a foalish move. Her ears flattened against her skull yet again and she grit her teeth. Her volatile temper was reigned in, but she could feel it boiling to the surface along with the first shreds of anxiety. It was quiet, so quiet. What was that light?

She panned her head across the darkness. Another flicker of light shone and died in her peripheral vision but was gone before her eyes could catch it. Another flashed deeper in the dark. Then another. Then another. She turned around, discovering the flickers of light were appearing in all directions and depths. Luna backed her rump against the stone in order to not give anything a chance to outflank and surprise her.

A particularly close flash of dull light almost hit her on the nose. She blinked. Somehow, that one event pointed to something deeper in her mind. Another one came on her left and she could not help but turn to face it. She knew it was familiar somehow. Something about it tickled a memory...

At ten o’clock, the civilian encountered a pair of oddities dissimilar to Subject One. The first was a dense black fog containing solid particles.

Particles in fog... Fluttershy was chased by a creature heralded by a black fog...

Further questioning deduced that Subject Two was a bipedal entity identical to the recently captured “Miner”, save for a pair of eyes that glowed bright white in the darkness.

Chains... Loud and clear, she heard the distinct sound of rattling chains. “Oh no...”

Luna turned around and prepared her ball of energy to destroy a portion of the stone wall. It rose from her shoulder—

Hands were at her throat, crushing her trachea in a death grip. A pair of bright white orbs were inches from her own eyes.

“I... see... you...”

Its voice sounded like a gallows rope constructed from rusty chains. Its face was exactly like the Miner’s. Brick-shaped head, brown hair, slight semblance of a beard. Only the eyes differed. Any other differences were lost on her given the circumstances.

Luna gasped a retort, only to have the creature’s grasp on her throat tighten even more. It hurt. Gather her remaining focus with whatever air remained in her lungs and thrust the ball of energy at its face. It kept one hand on her neck, but the other caught the ball before it could do any damage. It hissed in its palm, although the creature did not shift in the slightest. Perfectly immobile save for its death grip, it almost looked curious with its head tilted to the side as if it were observing an insect.

Her hoof connected to the side of its face. She threw another, but it caught it with its other hand, finally freeing its grasp on her neck. Wrenching her leg out of its grasp, she gusted backwards to gain some distance. She hacked and coughed to recover from the damage to her own throat. The creature glided towards her. The majority of its body was obfuscated behind thick curtains of black fog, but its eyes shone bright and pierced the darkness. Even through the cloud, it could see her. She knew it could.

“What... *cough* are you?” It didn’t answer.

Although there was no air in the Miner’s mind, some unseen force shifted, drawing her towards the creature. She used her own magic to fight the draw. Regular magic would be useless in the mind. Dreamwalking was a cousin of the Mind Delve, but required more than just willing a spell to work. Mental magic depended on the state of mind as much as dexterity and skill. All she needed was a desire for a barrier, and her own mind built it from scratch. She would be fine, as long as her will and concentration were not broken.

Barrier up, Luna backed away from the creature. It tilted its head to the other side, its emotions and motivations wiped from its face. The drawing sensation started thrumming as if in laughter. The unseen force willing her forward doubled in strength. Some great black wind ripped at her shield, forcing her to draw even more magic to hold it still.

Luna didn’t know what it was, but an awful, bone-chilling cold crept through her shield and froze her to her core. It was colder than the most bone-biting gale. Colder the the most voracious blizzard. She knew such a feeling. She commanded such feelings once before for a few brief months in Equestria and a thousand years on a desolate, cratered moon. It was the feeling that all light, warmth, and happiness was leached from her soul; she had done the same to others herself. How could she delude herself into believing she could be amongst ponykind? Who could possibly forgive her of her numerous sins? Was a royal decree by Celestia herself enough to wash away her past, the lives she had taken? Fillies and colts of every age, mothers and fathers, she watched with a smile as their lives drained from empty husks and the light within them died. She recalled covering the lands in darkness, withering plants and ponies alike. It was slow. It was a slow death, and she knew it. Every time she watched her crimes so long ago, she always did the same thing. Ohhhhh, it was so glorious.

She smiled.

“NO!” Luna screamed into the darkness. The cold receded with her sudden explosion of magic and wrath. The anger clouded her mind, but lit a fire to allow her to continue.

She looked up; she had dipped her head once the onslaught begin. This was certainly not some aspect of the Miner’s own mind or a psychic defense. It was the White Eyes himself. It was the body of a creature so very like the biped within her good graces, and yet being in the White Eyes’ astral presence made her feel threatened and sick. The Miner never produced such feelings of danger.

She coughed once more to clear her throat. She was not prepared for a fight, but it may just come to that. If it were any ordinary battlefield, she could fight to her heart’s content. She was in someone else’s mindscape now. A mental battle could incur irrevocable damage on the Miner’s mind and trap her forever in the process. Then again, Luna did not like the idea the creature was so close to the Miner’s mind to begin with. She would deal with that line of thought later. She had bigger concerns.

Luna charged the creature with a primal battle cry. It drifted backwards and the fog gathered to hide his body. The sound of chains softly echoed once again. Its body was wrapped in thin links of chain made out of light and sound. Great spikes made from the same sorcery pierced the creature’s flesh, binding it in an eternal prison. Portions of the fog seemed bound by the magic chains; several clouds seemed incapable of moving beyond a certain distance from its body. Gathering more power, she condensed it as thin a possible with a tapering point. She threw her spear of light with all her might at the mass of shadows. Like a light in the darkness, the fog parted under the force of her blow. She charged for a followup attack, but the creature had vanished. Upon reviewing her meager mental list of its tactics so far, she whirled around to fight off a potential flanking attack.

Her guess proved correct. The creature had copied her own attack and thrust a spear right between her eyes. For a moment, just a moment, Luna fully believed the creature could kill her at that moment. The eyes were the most expressive part of a pony’s face, yet she could gleam a sliver of... something behind its eyes of light. Irritation. A fight with an alicorn was nothing but an inconvenience to the creature.

Luna had the sense to parry the blow with a conjured shield of a different design. She did not want to risk the creature adapting to her techniques. The safest bet would be to use several different tactics to keep it off balance. The spear deflected off her shield and pierced the stone corridor’s outside wall.

She took the opportune lapse in the creature’s defense. Despite being a quadruped and not used to fighting a biped by any means, she knew she needed to fight, but it had been a long time since she had dusted off her fighting skills. It had been a long thousand years on the moon. Every second was spent preparing for an eventual battle with her sister, but a thousand years of loneliness and hate was a far cry from a real fight. She placed a hoof to the creature’s arm and snaked her left hoof across the back of its neck.

She heaved her weight into the creature and smashed his head against the stone wall. The strength of two dueling entities was enough to blast open the wall in a spray of stone and shrapnel. She had gotten her aim right and the dull glow of torch fire bleed through the newly made fissure. There was just enough room to weasel through, so Luna took the chance to throw the creature back into the void and enter the corridor.

As soon as her hooves touched the stone, her body was launched backwards. Her forehooves grasped the side of the hole for purchase against the force. They held fast, but stone was cracking under the strain. It would not hold long.

“There is only one killer today... and I have many names.”

The creature’s hiss in her ear felt like a thousand centipedes crawling down her neck. Luna’s anger had not dwindled and was crushing her fear. She heaved against whatever bonds pulled at her but only gained small ground against the creature’s pull. “Name thyself, damned beast!”

The creature hissed something else. It was not some word or an attack but Luna could not help but feel as if some great knowledge was being forced onto her overburdened mind. Sooner than naught, she found her will buckling under the stress and it took all her reserved strength to not let go and succumb to the darkness creeping at the edge of her vision.

“So pitiful you are upon hearing my name.” The creature made a sound. She wasn’t sure what it was. Her mind was still reeling from the pain. “Your tongue once knew me as Era’doth...”

A arm bound by gleaming chains snaked across her chest. Turquoise globules of energy hardened into a sword in his hand, the same type of gleaming diamond sword she had seen the Miner produce on multiple occasions. Right now the blade was pointed directly at her heart.

“You may call me Herobrine.”

Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. Happy th–

Pain.

Herobrine ripped through the shield and the blade plunged into her chest. Warm blood hemorrhaged down the crystalline blade and Luna screamed. The blade slunk an inch into her chest and stopped. It was stuck on her ribs; it was mere luck that equine ribs ran vertical while bipeds ran horizontal.

Luna’s shriek heightened as Herobrine twisted the blade. She felt the pressure on her ribs compound as it sought purchase beyond the bones. Bones cracked. Her chest felt warm and oh so cold. In a fit of panic, she let go of the wall and the pair were flung into the void. Luna’s hooves clamped around his hands in a desperate fight to prevent the sword from sinking any deeper.

Gathering her magic once more, she blasted an omnidirectional bubble to force him away from her. The monster-made-flesh was thrown backwards. Luna extracted the blade from her chest and bit back a whimper. She threw the blade into darkness. What would become of the object was not her concern.

She beat her wings as hard as possible for the newly made hole. Adrenaline kept her mind awake and dimmed the pain. The bitter tang of iron and bile flooded her dry mouth. She licked her lips to give them whatever precious little moisture remained.

Shadows danced at the corners of her eyes. Great black clouds billowed from within the void with only a pair of eyes to command them. Her body collided with the far wall of the corridor and vanquished the nearby torches with the pressure. Little tendrils of darkness snaked through, seeking out their quarry.

“Run, little god...”

Luna did exactly that and bolted down the corridor, trailing a surge of crimson. If she was to fight, it would be on her terms and now they certainly weren’t in her favor. Shadows clung to her legs and flank. She shook them off and spread her wings.

“It does not matter how far...”

Shadows clung tighter to her wings and brought her crashing to the hard stone. She bucked the tendrils, only to get her legs firmly wedged in darkness. They felt like tar if tar had the power to think for itself.

“For I will find you even in your safest bastion...”

She launched another blast of power followed by a spear aimed right between the white lights hiding within the fog. The shadows momentarily loosened their grasp on her body, but Herobrine’s eyes continued to advance. The shadows ate the spear plunged between his eyes until nothing was left but vaporous mirk.

“By your blood or assistance... I will end my suffering all the same....”

Another burst of magic gave her what time she needed to get to her hooves and stampede towards the iron door. She had to get out now. Her head felt like it was stuffed from fuzz due to the stress and blood loss. By the command of her magic, the door flung upon. Endless chaos and subconscious thought lay before her in the usually expanse of light and sound. The shadows were upon her, nipping at her heels. If she could only escape...

An idea struck her. One of her specialties was illusionary magic. Normal magic wouldn’t work in a mindscape, but there was an interesting concept to borrow. Gathering her strength, she commanded her body to copy every muscle and tendon. She tied it tight to create a firm and solid copy and designed another thread to act as the necessary trigger. She yanked the thread as all four of her hooves struck solid stone.

Luna continued towards the door at full gallop. A copy of her body parted from her own, turned, and charged Herobrine. The shadows clung around the copy in seconds and rendered her immobile. Bones snapped and limbs contorted under otherworldly pressure, yet she did not scream; she had no true consciousness, sense of self preservation, or soul to recognize pain. Luna did not care, for her trap was set. She yanked on the thread once more. Rather than dissipating like it should, the inelegant solution to dissipating her copy had the side effect of collapsing the energy giving her locomotion. The stone corridor shook with a thunderous roar. Torchlight died and stone cracked, but the destruction had forced the shadows to recede and bought her enough time to reach the door.

“It matters little to me...”

The sweet release of light and sound enveloped her and she disappeared into the throbbing miasma. Darkness hung in the Miner’s mind for several long minutes. Tendril shadows stroked the door but did not enter. Although the Void Fog snuffed out the torchlight, Herobrine’s pair of eyes still shined bright. It stared at the door with his body in the comforting embrace of night. It was not the same radiance and beauty as Luna’s perfect nights. As carefully as they protected him, they also radiated the same unpleasant aura of distaste and horror as the monster himself.

His eyes did not remove themselves from the door, but the shadows receded back into the rupture and into darkness. The Void Fog carried him with it and was silent save for the sound of rattling chains. It rattled off one final warning as it slunk back into the hole from which it came with a voice unused from countless eons of sleep.

“Sweet dreams...”

Luna collapsed in a heap. The Miner seemed dazed by the experience as well. His eyes were glazed over with half-conscious thought.

“Return him to his quarters. Increase the guard,” Luna huffed. She managed to stand, even if her knees wobbled. She coughed several times to clear her throat while she carefully held a hoof to her chest. She pulled it away; it was covered in cold sweat and nothing else.

Sense returned to the Miner and he looked at her confused. He conjured a sign to ask a question, causing her wings to twitch. Captain Hawk sensed his mistress’ distress. Clicking his tongue, his escort swiftly put themselves in a defensive circle around the biped.

Luna shook her head as he desperately tried to wrap his head around the sudden shift in mood. “Not now, Miner. I will deal with you later. Everyone else, leave us. Captain Hawk and I have business to discuss.”

Deal? Hawk had caught the unusual choice of words. “You heard the princess. Out,” he ordered with added incentive. The Miner had no idea what was going on and tried to write a response or question. His eyes were full of confusion.

As the Miner and the remaining guards shuffled out the door, Hawk approached his mistress. Luna’s demeanor had returned to its former stoicness. Hawk knew better than to believe she was fine. He always knew.

“How bad?”

Luna eyed him coolly. While most stallions would have looked away under the intensity, Hawk firmly stood his ground under her gaze. She sighed, softened, and replied, “Very... The White Eyes has a broken connection to his mind.”

Hawk’s raised his eyebrows, the equivalent to inarticulate gasps of shock form any other pony. Before he could find a way to voice his thoughts, Luna added, “Broken, I am certain. I drew him to me unknowingly. For whatever the reason, the two have a broken connection between their minds. Not thought sharing, just... an awareness of presence. I summoned the creature, but now that I am gone, he cannot affect the Miner.”

Luna was raked with another wave of hacking coughs. A hoof went to her throat and gingerly soothed the phantom pains on her neck. For the first time in a very long time, Hawk’s face was plastered with concern for his mistress. “Not to overstep my grounds, princess, but... are you well?”

Luna shook her head. “No, I am not. Our encounter was brief, but it was enough to know we have severely underscored this creature’s abilities. Send a report to every captain and general there is. The White Eyes creature is not to be engaged under any circumstance. Any and all instances of black fog are to be reported and not explored or touched. The two are classified as both extremely dangerous and hostile threats.” She sighed. “I am... diminished.”

Hawk’s mind struggled to keep up with the outpouring information. “This... creature, how are we supposed to defend against it if the danger is so severe?”

“Send word to myself, or my sister. The incorporation of the Elements of Harmony may be required as well.” Luna scanned her tent to check if any soldier had disobeyed her order or returned to the tent. True to the order, none had entered. “No normal pony can face a creature capable of such dangerous magnitudes.”

Luna took the chance and sat down on her pillows and comforters. Resting her head on her forehooves, she closed her eyes to ease the burden on her mind. She would never dare display herself in such a position of weakness under normal circumstances, but Hawk was a faithful veteran to her service and trusted confidant. “I will report my discoveries to my sister myself...”

She trailed off. Hawk almost thought she had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for twitching abdomen. She didn’t put much weight on it. “However, I did discover something of note. The creature bears some kind of seal. He mentioned a restriction on his power and his body was bound in chains. I sensed something great from his bonds, a power far greater than he.”

“Could it be from this third party? This Shadow Pony you called for in your speech earlier today?”

“Unknown.” Luna wished to speak with the pony or creature that had a hoof involved with saving Fluttershy’s life from the White Eyes. The only problem was nopony could find hide nor hair of the rescuer. The only words it payed Fluttershy were: ‘Stay in the light.’ Hardly much, but after incorporating it into her speech, she hoped to draw it out of hiding. It was a possible, if tenuous, hope. “He also carried the same abilities as they Miner, only I suspect he is infinitely more powerful.”

Hawk was contemplative. If he was reading in between the lines correctly, Luna was in a mental duel with the creature and either conceded to a draw or a loss. Either way, it was the only explanation for her exhaustion and tender skin. It was not his place to ask further.

“One more item of note, captain. A name. His name is Herobrine.”

Princess Luna returned to her quarters two hours after dusk. The waxing moon was already rising over the mountainous horizon. She did not want to admire her work. All she wanted was a hot bath and a rest. Maybe a nap, but it was too early for that.

The back of her quarters was sectioned off from her main office and living quarters. Even though it was a tent, if a large one filled with more than generous commodities, it suited her needs well enough. The room was saturated with sandalwood incense, her favorite. Two buckets sat next to a large copper tub. Her earlier business had spent much more time than anticipated and a quick dip of her hoof confirmed that both were little better than lukewarm after such an extended absence. Rather than call for servants to fetch fresh buckets, her fatigue and desire for a bath was enough that she warmed them with her own magic.

The warmth soothed her aching muscles and tired mind as she settled under the water. She was not sure why she felt so emotionally taxed in such a relatively short time.

“Herobrine...” The name felt strange on her lips. Why would a creature possibly choose such a name?

It had been a long time since she had a taxing fight. A few Changeling straglers at the royal wedding were not even worth a footnote. Discord’s twisted machinations over a thousand years ago and that was the last time her strength was required more for self preservation than justice. It was a long millenia. Too long. Those old skills needed to be brushed off if she ever hoped to be a match in a real battle with the monster.

Luna continued to scrub her body clean of the loose hairs and greasy sweat that accumulated on her skin over the first few hours. She had awoken far earlier than normal in order to deliver her speech and now required a bath now that her more strenuous activities were complete. Six o’clock, three hours before dusk, was the prime time to catch the most attention even among her own guards. The Royal Guard was getting off duty, while the Night Guard was just starting. Civilian ponies in Ponyville would be be finishing their jobs as well.

“Let us just hope it succeeds,” Luna wished. She really wanted to meet with the Shadow Pony, especially after her rendezvous with Herobrine. The black, bottomless mass of hate and cruelty he displayed was utterly astounding. Information would be worth its weight in gold at her current venture.

Steam flooded the confined space, filling the air with humidity and slowly clouding the mirror. She opened a small wooden chest with her magic just outside the small chamber. She extracted a bottle containing a deep burgundy liquid from the container, aged brandy from her own private stock. She would normally choose wine or something not nearly so strong, but it had been a stressful evening and she felt it was about to get worse.

The bottle uncorked itself. After letting it breathe as all aged liquor should, she fetched a glass and poured herself a drink on the rocks. It was quite the fruity bouquet and tasted faintly of raspberries. She sighed and finished the glass in a gulp.

Luna continued using her magic to clean herself. It was easier than manually doing the task. Calling for one of her hoofmaidens seemed like a hassle and she was thus content with washing herself. As she removed the suds from her body, she used the second bucket to carefully wash, groom, and preen her wings. It was never a good idea to use suds and soap on feathers.

She poured herself another, but almost dropped the glass. Words were printed onto the mirror in a very flowery script. The author had wrote them on the cold surface of the mirror knowing full well that a hot bath would produce the steam necessary to reveal them.

If you see him, he sees you.

His wrath comes with blindness.

Blind his eyes, save the Bearers.

-The Shadow

“Shadow Pony... thank you.” Her words were heard. She hoped for a face-to-face confrontation, but this would do.

“If you see me, Herobrine, you see nothing else...” She had a way to circumvent his unnatural sight and the fog that heralded him. Herobrine displayed the ability to control the unnatural fog at will. If what the Shadow Pony provided proved true, as vast as Herobrine’s perception may be, he could only focus on one item at a time. If she could keep him occupied long enough, she could blind him to everything else. She could isolate the threat he posed.

It also hinted at something else: Shadow Pony believed the Elements of Harmony had a reasonable chance to defeat him. She agreed, but between now and her duel with Herobrine, a lingering doubt had arisen in her mind. But another believed they might work. That was good and reassuring. With a little luck, they could beat him. They could win.

“Princess?” A voice was at the door, Second Lieutenant Skylar’s voice.

“A moment, second lieutenant.” She quickly wiped the mirror clean with a towel. She would be hard pressed to explain the words, and made a mental note to request the duty roster for everypony with access to her quarters. Given the recent revelations, she wanted to send Skylar away, but it was eleven o’clock and he was not scheduled to work so late. Something pressing was needed in order to bring him to her tent when he should be tending to his own business or sleeping.

A quick spell cleansed her body of moisture and she stepped out of the tub. Parting the tent flaps to her quarters, she opened the outer doors with her own magic and let the soldier in. Skylar certainly looked as if he had just gotten out of bed. He was devoid of armor, which only served to emphasize his hastily groomed red roan fur and mane.

“Enter, second lieutenant.”

He nodded in thanks. “Obliged, princess.” His hoofsteps were muffled by the grass and soft rugs.

She summoned her brandy and another glass for the soldier. She had a feeling she and the bottle would be good friends tonight. “Can I interest you in a drink?”

“No thank you, highness. Obliged, but no thank you.” Nevertheless, he eyed the bottle longingly. “I have news you need to hear. Immediately, if possible.”

Luna set the bottle on the table and poured herself a glass. “Very well. Continue.”

He nodded. “We received a full report of the Miner’s venture. Besides a run in with some Diamond Dogs, the trip was uneventful and it provided the magi involved a perfect chance to research a large scale structure constructed by his hands.”

Luna took a short draft. It was what she expected given her expectations and the magus’ own brief report. She noticed he was rushing through it as quickly as possible. Something more pressing was ahead. “However, we received viable intel from a magus involved. With visual and audio clues given from the Miner, along with added contextual clues, he was able to deduce what we have been looking for the entire time: the identity of his attacker.

Oh, it was going to be a bad night. “Name him.”

Skylar pawed at the ground nervously. “Sergeant Jetstream, 229th Arial Division.”

So... the pony who located the Farlander Portal. The time could very well match. It was tricky, but doable.

Luna set down her glass. “Bring him to me.”

She didn’t know if it was her tone or the barely contained snarl on her lips that made Skylar shiver.

“That... cannot be done, highness.”

“Explain,” she hissed. This time he flinched underneath the intensity.

“Once Professor Incantus and myself were made aware of the situation, we mobilized immediately lest the sergeant discover the revelation of his treachery and flee. We...” He pawed at the ground again. Something had gotten under his skin and it certainly wasn’t her. “Something happened in his quarters, something I am not capable of explaining. It is something you need to see.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Cor Thunder, Material Defender

Author's Note

Hello, fans. This Author’s Note is for something long overdue. I’ve had the great fortune of having a fair few number of editors to choose from to edit my stories, primarily my most popular story At the End. Editing is mostly a thankless job. Yes, you get the usual pleases and thank yous once you start, but you are lucky to get more than a little blurb at the start or end of a chapter or story you help with. I’ve done a fair amount of editing and reviewing myself. I know that feeling, even the befuddlement of feeling authors demanding prompt responses.

Editing is a task without reward, when dealing with regular fanfiction anyway. We do this on our own time when we could be writing our own work or watching reruns of Game of Thrones. I figured my editors deserved a little something more from me, so I am here now to spotlight some of their works.

First up is Material Defender, my longest-running editor. At this time, he’s published eleven works, most breaking 30,000 words and a few even breaching 100,000 words. Perhaps his two most notable pieces are Tiberium Eclipse and Do You Believe in Ghosts?. The former is based after the RTS game Command and Conquer. It is a fascinating read, especially the intricacies when the Tiberium ore is involved. The latter is based ater the stealth and shooter games Ghost Recon. I’ve had to take notes with the methodical approaches to tactical breeches and assaults. It’s a loving tribute to stealth and shooter games.

Next is my very first editor, Viktor Lionheart and his critically underappreciated Skyfall (no, not that one). Although updates have stalled, it is an absolute treat of a story that truly makes one wonder about who the true villain in the story is. The prose is incredible, and it is a real shame the story halted so soon.

Veteran critic Retsamoreh is known for being blunt, and I didn’t want it any other way. Some writers fuss about getting good praise. That’s fair. On the other side of coin, there is also a problem with not getting enough criticism. You will never be a good writer if no one tells you what you are doing wrong. Up on his stories is Homebound, Fluttershy Has Tea WIth Jesus, and Rarity Has Tea With Jesus. I haven’t had the pleasure to finish the first, but the guy gets my endorsement.

I accidentally forced Deathscar into editing for me, mostly because I was looking through the Editors document and was a massive idiot that shouldn’t be allowed to touch a keyboard. Nevertheless, the guy was a good sport and volunteered his services free of charge. Sorry the the trouble I caused you, Deathscar. Go check out his story "Have you tried turning it Off and On again?". You’ll laugh.

Lastly, did you know I received some awesome fanart based on the fight in this chapter? I totally did! Click this link to see it yourself!

Chapter 31: The End

Chapter 31: The End

The tent was saturated with the scent of sandalwood. It was one of Princess Luna’s favorite smells, and was thus the maid’s choice of incense oil. She removed the old, wickless candle and placed it in the bin with the rest of the waste. Lighting the new candle, she placed it under the stone basin and wisps of incense drifted off the liquid surface.

She quickly scurried out and heaved in a pair of piping hot water buckets. The princess was not scheduled to return for quite some time and they would likely be cool by then. She hauled them both to a sectioned off room in the back, the princess’ own private sanctuary. A copper tub stood ready, but the maid did not fill it just yet. Pegasus wings – and alicorn wings – were sensitive and needed a simple wash with clean water, not soap and shampoo. She retrieved a pair of lids for the bucket to better contain the steaming heat, but it would do little good. Luna would either need to warm the water herself or ask for fresh buckets when she returned.

Her work done, the maid trotted towards the door... only to stop. Something felt... odd. Her head of bronze curls twirled as she moved to look at the vanity mirror. She needed to go to the mirror. Cleaning it was one of the first things she had done, but the compulsion was still there, egging her to approach.

Her hooves clattered atop the vanity table. Her own blue eyes and red pleated face stared back at her. Words sprung to mind, words that she needed to write. The compulsion demanded it. It was a pressure in the back of her skull that needed to be satisfied, and a few words were the cure. Her hoof gently arched across the mirror, writing on the mirror without any type of ink. It didn’t matter; that the feeling in her mind eased the moment her hoof touched the cold surface. Her usual loopy script had shifted into some other penmanship unfamiliar to her, but it didn’t matter. Why would it matter? The feeling in her skull decreased after each letter. That was what was important.

When she was done, she smiled in satisfaction. The feeling was gone. A smile on her face, she cantered out of the room out of the tent. The momentary loss of her own body and desires didn’t matter. The feeling was gone, and no harm was done. None at all. Everything was perfectly fine.

Some servant girl or scullery maid bumped into Second Lieutenant Skylar on his way to his evening rounds. She apologized, politely curtsied, and continued on her way. Skylar couldn’t help but shiver as his heart inexplicably iced over. The servant girl seemed affected by the same impulse; her body twitched so violently she fell flat on her face. Covering her exposed rump with her skirt at the accidentally shameful display, she quickly cantered off to the servant’s quarters in the wake of a few cat calls and wolf whistles.

It was strange. She was cute and he was particularly fond of gingers. He couldn’t explain the sudden chill arcing through his veins, even if it was slowly dying. Skylar’s back straightened and he continued forward. Servants and soldiers alike saluted as he passed. As he was second in command of the base, third if one counted Princess Luna, his mere presence guaranteed a lot of pull.

He continued on his original path to the MIC. While the camp was mostly filled with busywork, sounds and smells of merriment could be heard over the shuffling and reports produced by everyday military life. His eyes were drawn to the medical tents as he passed. Hemos and the camp psychologist had been seriously busy lately. While Hemos still tended to the wounded, he and his comrade had an odd rush of ponies seeking mental aid. Apparently there had been a rash of recent nightmares. Princess Luna had done her best to help after she had become aware of the situation, but the sufferers always dreamed during her inactive schedule. He felt a sudden shudder.

Skylar wrapped a hoof around a clerk as he passed. He wasn’t sure why, but a reason quickly formed. He’d read the report yesterday concerning the monster attack on Canterlot, the second one in a week. What was attacked and where were not yet disclosed, but Hawk and Barricade were seething with every step.

“Tell...” He looked for the words. “Find who’s currently in charge of sentry duty and tell them I want the guard doubled for the next few days. Write a memo up and spread it around. Make sure Captains Hawk and Barricade get a notice as well. The order is in effect until I or Captain Barricade rescind it.”

The cleric was startled at the sudden manhandling, but accepted the order once he realized who was giving the order. “Y-yes, sir. Oh!” The cleric shook himself out of the little stupor. “And Mister Skylar, there’s some fuss going on with the Council mages. They’ve shut themselves up in their quarters after some of them got back from the underground. They’re pretty freaked.”

“Thank you. I’ll take a look myself.” Skylar took a step and shivered as a wave of cold coursed up his spine.

Czarina Bangle, Archmage and adviser to the crown, lay on her comforter. She was ancient, even by the most generous standard. Despite being offered retirement more than once and a more than generous pension to live out the rest of her certainly short life, she continued leading the work she loved. Magic, medicine, and science had done wonders to cheat the death out of his two bits.

Her old and weary muscles ached and protested as she stretched her decrepit form. Pain laced up her legs. “проклятие,” she swore in her native tongue. She was not one to use profanity in even informal conversation, but she made the exception in her relatively spartan quarters. She did not like or need too much in terms of personal items, even if she had the political power to demand it.

Her green eyes stared at the ceiling of her tent. Her lengthy snow-white mane, normally carefully groomed, framed her wrinkled face. Light streamed through her tent. She had yet to close the door or magic it shut. The falling sun bled crimson across the northern mountains and created a picturesque portrait of the evening. It was going to be a beautiful sunset, despite the humidity in the air. Canterlot was wedged into a peak somewhere. She could not even begin to discover where it lay on sight alone; her vision was not what it used to be.

“До свидания, Celestia’s light,” she said before closing the door flaps with a flash of light periwinkle magic. Gathering her pillows and blanket, she found a comfortable spot and relaxed her mind. A proper bed was one of the few things she demanded no matter where she went.

Tap tap tap.

“Celestia’s sun, burn you all.” The covers flew to the end of the bed and her staff flew to her side in a flash of light. She moved her body towards the edge of the bed excruciatingly slow. The dull burn of arthritis marred her limbs with every twitch. Over the course of the next minute, she moved off the bed and a few steps into her room. With a flick of her magic, the door flung open, revealing a courier with a rolled up scroll, tied and sealed in a wax stamp bearing the crest of the Council of Magic. All Czarina was thinking about was the courier was lucky she had the mind to only knock once while she took the time to get to her hooves and not test her patience with more. She shuddered for a moment and entered a coughing fit, almost losing her grip on her staff in the process. As quick as it came, the fit passed, even if its passing made her feel sick and flooded her mouth with the taste of bile.

“Enter, child,” Czarina wheezed. Even though the courier was well into her thirties, Czarina more than tripled her age and had the right of age over beauty.

The courier, a mare with a solid coat the color of a bright clementine, slowly walked to meet her. Even ancient to the point of burial rites, she still demanded respect and could stare down a rock. “For you, Archmage.”

“Thank you. You are excused.” Rather than acknowledge the order, the timid thing nodded, offered her a pair of scrolls, curtsied, and left without looking her in the eyes. Czarina smiled; she still had that effect on ponies.

Opening and unrolling the scroll, she discovered what was so important it had to be delivered so late in the day. It was a report on the recently received eye-shaped gemstone the Farlander placed in the portal.

“Impossible...” she muttered before even halfway through the text. Once done, she dropped the scroll on her nightstand and sighed. She put a hoof to her face and sighed, which devolved into another coughing fit. All of this time, she never guessed what the device truly was. She should have known, ever since she read the report involving the Miner’s teleportation stone.

“проклятие. What have you brought to us, Miner?”

The next one snapped open as quickly as the first. As Czarina’s eyes moved further down the paper, her quarters started to quiver and shake.

“Traitorous wretch!”

Jetstream sat in his quarters, sulking.

“I’m not sulking,” he growled at his bunkmate.

“Bullshit. It’s getting late, and I heard the local watering hole makes some pretty good margaritas. ‘S run by some dude name Frosty Mug.”

If he wasn’t before, Jetstream was indeed sulking now. He looked at the letter on his nightstand. A notice summoning him to an “official review concerning professional misconduct” or something along those lines.

“I’ll pass.”

“Hey, suit yourself.” He quickly left for his soon-to-be-devoured ambrosia, leaving Jetstream alone with his thoughts.

Those moments down in the caves had been at the forefront of his mind for some time. He hated the duality of his emotions and memories. Praised one moment for securing the Farlander portal with Zecora’s assistance one moment, and under the threat of a disciplinary hearing the next.

“Stupid brain,” he cursed. He had earned no points for trying to describe his trip into the caverns, or his reasoning behind leaving his squad to fetch reinforcements. It was strange, as if a cloud had tainted his own memories. All he could recall was a faint inkling to go deeper, to explore the darkness for whatever secrets the Farlander may have held. Snippets. That’s all he could remember. Jetstream expected that he would be able to recall the events until he surfaced with near perfect recall at the end of the day, but everything was misty and obfuscated, as if the memory was months or even years old rather than mere hours. That still did not explain the gaps of time where he could remember absolutely nothing. Of course, he explained that to his superiors. Not that it helped in the slightest.

Jetstream sighed and shivered. A slight breeze drifted through the fluttering tent flap, chilling him more than it really should. He coughed and hacked up some unseen obstruction in his throat.

“Jeeeeeetstream.”

Jetstream jumped and almost screamed. He was used to his fellow officers pulling pranks on him and each other, but that whisper was right in his ear. His knee slammed into the side of his cot in surprise. Cussing back the pain, he twirled around to give his provoker a much needed scolding, only to discover he was alone in the tent. He hurried out the door to find the magus in the act of ventriloquism. He was met with naught but the scurrying couriers and scullery maids. Not a single unicorn was in sight.

He ducked back in, chewing his lower lip in thought. He knew he heard something. He was certain of it. Circling back, he walked back inside. As a sergeant, he did have a little more weight to throw than the regular soldiers, so his quarters was a little larger and furnished better. He did have to share with a fellow sergeant, but that was a small price to pay to have a little more room to stretch his legs and wings. He fluttered the latter; after the solid week of rains, the air was getting muggy and humid, and the weather teams had yet to clear the omnipresent haze of water hovering over the slowly scorching grounds.

There was a basic wash station to share among the pair, although the temporary shortage of water on his first day made the experience a little... awkward. He was allowed his own desk and cot, along with a separate nightstand. Currently, his cot was otherwise occupied.

“Hello, Jetstream.”

He couldn’t make out the pony at first. The larger, better defined muzzle and rounded barrel identified the pony as a stallion. Jetstream was bare of clothes and gear, but his visitor was dressed in full military armor, complete with the helmet and the brush marking him as an officer. The pips on his helmet marked him as a sergeant.

Unlike most civilians and the Miner, guards could tell each other apart 99% of the time on sight alone. They lived and trained with each other for all their lives and every scar, muscle twitch, and facial tick was recognizable to each other. He scanned through his mental list of fellow soldiers and officers, but only one carried the scar arcing across his chin.

That pony happened to be himself.

“Seal the door,” the pony ordered. Not asked, ordered. The copy’s eyes bored into his own, forcing a domination of will. He slowly doffed his helmet. Jetstream’s own white fur, black mane, and blue eyes stared back at him. Rather than warm pools, they felt like frozen lakes. “This is the part where I would make some kind of threat, but I believe you are well aware of your situation.”

Jetstream’s hooves mechanically moved towards the door against his will. He was in the room with a copy of himself. A sentient, sapient copy. His training had never prepared him for that. His hooves were soon at the door, a simple fabric built for toughness and durability against the elements. Just outside was at least a dozen ponies within his direct line of sight. All he needed to do was throw open the flap and shout for reinforcements. The tent would be surrounded in no more than ten seconds.

...But how did he get inside in the first place? He couldn’t possibly have snuck in, he wasn’t a unicorn capable of teleportation, and the tent was firmly staked to the ground. Something else was going on. Jetstream twitched and the tent flap rippled in a slight breeze. He could see the ponies milling about through the opening. The fluttering ceased and they were alone once more.

“If you need any added incentive, I assure you that calling for assistance would put me in quite the bind, providing it would help.” His copy chuckled. “You are the only one that can see me. Now finish up and sit down. We have much to discuss.”

Another order. Jetstream bit back a kneejerk retort. The entity or whatever it was had gone through a fair amount of trouble to talk to him, it seemed. He wasn’t in any danger. Not yet. He could not even fathom a conclusion why, especially after considering his copy’s unique language. Jetstream’s copy certainly didn’t speak like him. He was calm and confident, and eloquent enough for the royal court.

The copy smiled.

“What’s your name?” Jetstream asked. It was difficult to carry on a conversation when all he had to refer to him was ‘other me.’

“Brimstone.”

Odd. That wasn’t a pony name. Jetstream’s hooves went to the first tab on the tent flap. It was a simple oblong wood hook that looped through a loop of string and tied one tent flap securely to another.

“You’re not a pony.”

“Certainly not.”

Another loop. He was taking his time to think. The best he could do right now was think and learn. Brimstone wanted him for a reason. All he had to do was find out what that reason was.

He opened his mouth to ask just that, but stopped. Despite only being in the company of each other for a few minutes at most, it was clear who dominated the conversation. As an act of petty spite due to feeling the conversation was being led in a direction of Brimstone’s choosing, he changed questions, “If you are not a pony, what are you?

“Your savior. Your reckoning. You do not remember me, but we have met in the past, Jetstream. The context of our last encounter and the events preceding our current meeting set certain events in motion. I am here on a mission of discovery.”

Jetstream carefully gave Brimstone a wide berth, eyes sharp for any kind of movement or treachery. Brimstone was quiet and still, and was quite comfortable in a body not his – its? – own. Jetstream circled the far side of the tent, climbed atop his bunkmate’s cot as the thing squeaked in protest, and sat down.

“We have never met. I am certain of that.”

“You do not remember; quite the difference.”

Jetstream bit back another retort and forced himself to calm. “...Why?”

Brimstone tilted his head to the side and stared over his shoulder. The sergeant looked as well, but saw nothing but a blank wall. Shadows flickered at the base of the tent, casted impressions by those walking to and fro outside. “I will show you why.”

Brimstone rose to his hooves. Jetstream did the same and mentally prepared himself to fight at the first sign of trouble. Brimstone got off the bed in a slow, silky motion. It was an unnatural movement to his eye, despite no unusual contortions of any kind. Jetstream just copied him on base instinct alone.

He didn’t move as the intruder approached him. His muscles were tense, but he didn’t dare back down or show a sign of weakness. There was only a space of two feet between the two beds, but the excruciatingly slow pace of Brimstone made the seconds feel like hours.

Their noses touched. Jetstream felt incredibly uncomfortable with the close contact. He could not feel Brimstone’s hot breath across his jaw or throat despite the proximity. His eyes never left his either. That only seemed to make it worse.

“After I plucked you from the confines of your patrol, I took what memories I needed. I am a creature of the mind now.” Now? “In order to speak on equal intellectual footing, and to avoid more pesky questions, I must restore what I have taken.”

Without warning, Brimstone leaned forward and their lips met. The shock of the kiss was suddenly overridden by white hot energy coursing from the contact.

“Remember, Jetstream.”

He collapsed. Every synapse in his brain fired simultaneously as a massive amount of impulses overrode his conscious mind.

“Remember,” he huskily whispered.

Light, sound, and sensation overrode the present and something rose from the darkness of his mind. Images, memories new and old, came to the forefront of his mind. Stone, darkness, and the flash of violet.

“Remember.”

“I... I remember.” Jetstream clutched his head, panting and sweating on the grassy floor. “Oh Celestia, I remember...”

Whatever the Voice expected, it did not receive it. Jetstream’s smile disappeared from his face. “Or would you rather I summon the entire Royal Guard on this location?”

Jetstream strained his ears as hard as he could, listening. The Voice expected there to be something here, but what? For a moment, there was nothing...

BAMF!

The air behind Jetstream imploded. His body did not turn around to investigate the disturbance, only stand stoically next to the construct. Even though Jetstrem could not see what was behind him, the presence was not completely undetectable; small purple particles drifted into his field of view, each one vanishing after a few seconds. The particles all moved in random directions on their own currents. In was quite the beautiful sight for the Sergeant.

The presence gurgled softly, which the Voice seemed to understand perfectly. “Indeed I can.”

The presence was silent for a few moments before it made a whistling sound. “A deal,” the Voice said.

Another gurgle.

“Simple really. I know you’re constructing a gateway to your own world, but you’re running into some trouble. The problem is, so will I at a future point in time. The bargain is I will help you complete your portal, if, in return, you complete it at a very specific point in time.” His body kicked at the belt securing his saddlebags and it fell to the ground. But instead of turning around to pick it up or move it, he dragged it in front of his field of vision, not bothering to gaze upon the presence. His body opened one of the bags, revealing it to be chock full of iridescent green gemstones, each one in the shape of a single dragon eye.

“Guuruhh...”

“Because you and I want the same thing.”

‘What’s that?’

The presence whistled in surprise, but before it could say anything else, the Voice continued. “I’ll just come out and say I’m doing this for selfish reasons and nothing else. We have mutual ideals and goals, so I want us to work together to achieve them. Even if we both left this world, we both know what the Crafter coming here means: this land is going to burn. Me helping you will neither spread nor snuff the flames. If we succeed, we part ways; no more, no less. You go home, while I stay.”

“So Enderman, I ask you: what is your decision?”

The Enderman, as the Voice called it, was silent once more. Jetstream soon felt the smile return to his face.

The Enderman sung a chord of whistles and the Voice laughed giddily. “Good. Good! Now, here’s what I want you to do. Era’doth will be coming to this plane very soon.”

It made a series of popping noises. It was all incomprehensible to Jetstream, but the Voice not only knew full well what it said, but it made him angry. “Do not play the simpleton. I know your kind. I know of the End and the irrefutable fact your kin roused him from his slumber. A thousand lifetimes in the cold darkness, bereft of any light, sound, time, or matter.”

It made a single pop.

“Oh? A new name and body? I know he created the construct in his image. A new name does not clear his sins.”

The Enderman was silent for several seconds. The violet energy discharge fell across his vision like snow. It really was quite beautiful, and he wished the entity in control of his body would turn around to see the creature. He could not have his wish and continued to receive a face full of blank rock wall and a greenish stone construct. The Voice took that as a sign to continue.

“Our interests coincide. I will give you what you need to be sent back. I need you postpone completion of your portal until a very... specific moment...”

‘What moment?’ It was a futility to speak. Ever since Jetstream lost control of his body, the entity inhabiting him had refused to talk to him. Perhaps the entity was unable, but he suspected unwilling was the answer.

“Wait until the last possible moment. I do not anticipate the crafter construct to meet with the life forms like the body I wear in the near future; its cowardice and fear run too deep. Wait until its capture is confirmed before you begin to draw their attention. Complete your portal just short of three months from now, when there is a mass migration to the mountain capital. Era’doth detests these creatures as much as I do and will enjoy a slaughter.”

‘WHAT!’

His body smiled against his will from the sadist joke, but it was all too real. The tone had shifted from unnerving to downright horrific. “The few moments between your portal opening and the attack will be enough to draw one of them into your realm, these... alicorns. I believe there is a bigreason they will want to meet your kind.”

‘Why are you encouraging this?’

“Whichever comes, I do not care. It is in their best interest to meet the Enderdragon.”

‘Shadow monsters and now a dragon? What kind of place is this ‘End’? You're talking about genocide! This dragon or Era’doth monster will kill us!’’

“I assume the Enderdragon is a primary concern of yours as well?”

The Enderman was silent for a single second before it bubbled out a noise. Jetstream jumped in his mind, even if his body remained frozen in place. The revelation of mass murder had him wound up like a spring and ready to burst. “I thought so. Once the alicorn is there, feel free to tell her what you wish, especially the connection between the construct and Era’doth. I will deal with the god myself. Do you accept these terms?”

The Endermen gurgled a few noises. It was a deep, throaty noise that would have made his skin crawl. “He will stage his rampage to release an eternity of pent up destruction. Despite his powers, he’s still blinded by his own superiority. The construct thinks you an enemy due to Era’doth disguising himself as one of your kind, but I know the truth. I know why your kind fled to the Overworld. I know why you are here now. None of that matters. Some will die, but I have this chance, this one chance to put him back to sleep once more. I know without a doubt he will stage an attack on the city; he is not yet strong enough to break through their defenses, and certainly not alone. His hubris will be his downfall.

“Now enough prattle. The city will burn, lives will be lost, and families will be destroyed on both sides of the End. Don’t pretend that no one will die. I want an answer: do you agree to my proposal?”

‘Canterlot... attacked...?”

Jetstream’s thoughts were overridden as the Endermen whistled in affirmation. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. The blasai attitude of the entity was mind boggling. Here they were, casually talking about the calculated attack on a city of thousands. Jetstream’s mind had locked up; his brain could not believe or process any of what he just heard.

For a moment, Jetstream thought that their business was concluded, but the entity had one more question for the Endermen. “Out of curiosity, what new name did he select?”

It gurgled a low series of notes. At last, something seemed to genuinely amuse the entity and he smiled as a throaty chuckle softly echoed off the walls. “What kind of name is Herobrine?” He shook his head. “No matter. I’m glad you agree to my terms. Afterwards, you are free to say what you wish to her, suspicions or otherwise.”

‘No.... That thing will kill them all...’

“I’m afraid I must still inform others above as to this gateway’s location, but I think you are capable of doing what we agreed on without detection. Endermen are quite skilled in that art.”

‘You’re just going to sit by and watch!?’

“I bid you farewell.”

BAMF!

The particles vanished.

‘HUNDREDS OF PONIES ARE GOING TO DIE!’

Picking up the now empty saddlebag, his body ran, not cantered, back to the ravine. “Oh dear, time has gotten away from me.”

‘What else is there for you to do?’ Scenarios flew across Jetstream’s mind, all of them with streets full of dead ponies. It disgusted him. Who or what could willingly do such a thing?

His body removed the saddlebag and rain poncho and tossed them into the abyss. Jetstream counted the seconds. ‘1... 2... 3... 4...’ Thump!

Four seconds at terminal velocity. That would be an unpleasant drop. For a moment, his heart jumped into his throat at the thought. Was his puppeteer going to force him over the edge? It would take days to find his body.

Jetstream was silent. He had expected he would do something; cry, scream, shout, anything, but all he could muster was the strength to tremble at the sudden onslaught. He lay huddled between the cots, head clutched in his hooves. Blood rushed through his head with every beat and making him bob up and down. The sound was deafening and the prelude piece for the horror yet to come.

“I forgot... how could I forget?”

“Because I wanted you to.” Jetstream looked up. Brimstone had returned to the cot and patiently waited for him to compose himself. He expected the entity to be smiling, grinning, or anything in between, but all Brimstone did was wait, quietly observing. “When two souls inhabit the same vessel, the stronger one wins. I was in control because I dominated your mind. You would normally remember everything you saw despite this, but my skill in the mental arts was enough to remove and alter some of your memories. You remembered your path to the End Portal because I let you.”

Jetstream clutched his head. He remembered what happened after Brimstone’s deal, the haunting he had to endure. Snippets of the past flooded his thoughts...

Something hit the ground with a dull thud, causing Jetstream to jump. Something started slithering along the ground like a serpent...

“Stop now... stop... or you will die...”

“Run... to the light... or you will not survive...”

Jetstream felt something wet and cold as death slither along his hooves. There was no longer just one of them, but dozens. Possibly even hundreds. Each one was coated in a thin layer of slime, squirming uncontrollable up his legs as they scrambled over each other to their destination...

Jetstream was silent for a moment before saying, “The caves...”

“I needed to test your mettle, and a live performance is infinitely more effective than making you dance in the world of dreams. You saw our conversation; I needed to know which one of you insects can survive an encounter with a new class of monster. It was not about a victory or a loss, a battle of gods and demons requires an unyielding mind and outstanding fortitude...” Brimstone narrowed his eyes, the first sign of emotion since the vision ceased. “traits you lack.”

“What did you expect? I – anypony – would be underprepared dealing with you. One of our greatest failures, the Changeling attack on Canterlot, was due to misinformation and a woeful lack of preparation. What did you expect?” It was the first spark of life in Jetstream. Some emotion rippled in his antagonist’s eyes. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, making his pulse thud violently in his ear. He felt the overwhelming urge to bolt, but stayed rooted to the spot. He was moving on his own, unlike his paralysis in the caves. He could run, all it would take is a single shout.

“A spine.”

“I – ”

Jetstream’s retort died on his lips. What candles he had for meager illumination flickered and he felt the room temperature drop several degrees. The light felt compressed. He knew it was there; his eyes could see it, but his brain refused to acknowledge the stimulation. His skin crawled. No, something was crawling. A thousand vermin skittered and ran across his fur. He got up and ran backwards, away from Brimstone. Some effluvial, disgusting filth poured from under the tent, enveloping his legs. He could feel bony appendages rise form the muck and grasp his legs and flanks. His lungs burned. Jetstream tried to breath, something large and scaly had curled around his chest, constricting his frantic grasps. What little light there was present was going out as he gasped for air. He could feel a deep fumble from the best and the distinct sense of something in front of his face. Something with teeth.

The vision shifted.

He stood upon a high mountain peak, but instead of stone was composed of some soft, fleshy material. He stood above the clouds, great billowing gusts of red, yellow, and a sickly green. The air alone was foul and fetid, and tasted like graves. That did not concern Jetstream, for a larger, more pressing matter stood before him. The skyline was completely bare save for a lone mountain so high he needed to crane his neck to see anything even closely resembling the summit. The mountaintop touched the heavens, but instead of sky was a vast void of everything and nothing. The realm was alive with color, music, and chaos. Stars and planets swirled around the mountaintop, an eternal explosion of confusion and madness, a dance birthed from the primordial anarchy of beginning and would know no end after its collapse. Atop the peak crowned by heaven itself was a lone figure, a being equally grand and terrible as the madness surrounding it. Throughout the experience, Jetstream was utterly frozen, incapable of conscious thought or processing the hell.

And then the figure saw him. Jetstream didn’t know how it could recognize his pitiful life from across the stars, but it did, and he knew it. Pain. Jetstream felt only pain. Something pierced his soul like a knife. It was… something akin to a shriek, an endless scream wallowing in ecstatic laughter. A blast of consciousness and understanding beyond anything he had ever felt. It was not directed at him, but it crushed his soul and will as if all of his mental barriers were worthless, dust in the wind. He could feel the scream, feel it as it filtered through the universe and consumed everything in its rapture and chaos. Such joy that scream gave. Such rapture. Such madness. It passed through Jetstream, through the very universe itself. Through everything.

Jetstream knew that ponies died. He knew that fearing death was something natural, a means of self-preservation and survival. But why did that instinct need protecting? Why was life so precious that lives would lash out like a cornered rat to protect it? This... thing he just felt was something beyond what he had ever known. Such puny matters like life, power, and beauty were nothing to it.

Life... hope... existence... how little those things mattered in the end. How pathetic they were in the grand scheme of things. Something as simple as a pony seemed so fragile, its life so brittle and delicate that it would vanish under the slightest breeze or caress.

Jetstream couldn’t breathe, even if he retained control. Something was upon him, around him, behind him, inside him. There was nothing to see or feel. Only...

Only the sensation that he was being watched.

And then he felt it.

There was something akin to a presence with him. He was being watched and he could feel the eyes on him, even though he could not see the creature on the throne of stars. There was intelligence to the presence, a complexity more horrible than anything he could have possibly imagined. Jetstream recognized it and it recognized him back, but it was not the way one pony greeted another in the street or a husband returning home to his wife. It was the way a stallion examined a small creature like a ladybug or locus, only Jetstream was the insect, insignificant under something infinitely more vast and unfathomably more perceptive.

It was suffocation, a shower in power and force of will beyond the scale of his existence. He could feel it. He could see it. Jetstream panicked; he had to run away. If only he could run. His mind seemed separated from his body, yet he scrambled for light, for the warmth of day...

A shadow stood over him as Jetstream started gasping. The feeling of omnipresent suffocation withered, leaving him a panting, sweating mess on the grassy floor of his familiar tent. “Unpleasant, is it not?” said Brimstone’s silhouette. “It was only a shadow, a projection of my will. That is what you face if it were real. Do you believe you are on par with me or him?”

Jetstream rose shakily to his hooves. It felt so real. Every sound and touch, even the fetid stench of decay, was defined in unparalleled reality. Brimstone continued, “I have been testing you ponies, discovering the depths of your courage in order to see how long you can stand before you fall. Cruel as it may seem, it is a necessity. I need to control who is capable of controlling themselves. I bring nightmares and horrors to what you call the Night Guard; they sleep during the day and are exempt from Princess Luna’s dream warden schedule. I bring waking dreams to the Royal Guard to circumvent her in the day. All I need is a nap to bring forth the realm of dreams and you are mine. When the fight inevitably comes, I wish to maneuver the strongest of will to the vanguard. It is as simple as that.”

He finally stood tall and proud. Brimstone had yet to move. It made sense at face value. Psychological torture to discover who would break under pressure was effective, but left ponies broken. That didn’t apply if they didn’t even remember what happened to them. Still, that left a few questions unanswered. “Miss Fluttershy... The captain’s daughter... that was you who protected her.”

“Indeed.”

“So...” He thought as he regained his breath and composure. It had felt so real. “So...” He had to think. There was something about protecting Miss Fluttershy that was starting him right in the face.

It clicked. Jetstream gave a triumphant smile, which Brimstone returned. “The Elements of Harmony. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Brimstone kept his smile, lifted his forehooves, and slowly clapped.

Jetstream continued, “I can conclude, considering you seem to be working alone, you have no help. You’re fighting Herobrine alone. You protected the mare for her link to the Elements, because you have no means to defeat him.”

“Victory through superior firepower. I have no time to reassign the Elements to myself, so protecting its current users is a top priority.”

His eyes widened at the unspoken implication. “You can do that?”

Brimstone’s lips curled. Jetstream did not like the way his own face looked so sinister. He waited for a few more moments, but Brimstone refused to speak further on the matter. He tried another question. “I had heard rumors of an attack on Canterlot. Another one.”

“Ah, yes.” He seemed as if he were recalling a fond memory. “Both incursions were not my own. Era’doth – “Herobrine” – was intent on gathering them himself. After he created a portal of his own to enter this realm, he set his sights on this town. When he tried and failed to kill the Bearer, he resorted to more drastic actions. Severing the link is the easiest way to rendering them inert. The Bearers are the weakest link, but that does not mean they are the only link. Given enough time, he could override their bond and assign himself as a new and singular Bearer. He’d finally have all the power he’s longed for and destroy his prison.”

“Oh?” Jetstream raised an eyebrow. “He doesn’t have enough power already? Sending the Miner through the portal isn’t power enough? Just possess him like you are me right now and force him to cut off his head.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The last thing he expected was for Brimstone to laugh. “Ha ha ha! Oh, dear Jetstream, it wouldn’t work even if I had power over him. His beastial form, the one that he used to break into the castle...” Brimstone’s mirth extended into a wide smile. After seeing his previous calm and demeanor, seeing him smile was unsettling. “He was dismembered before he was imprisoned in the darkness. What came through is his head.”

Jetstream blanched. “Wait... what? That’s not possible. Nothin’ could survive that.”

“I am naught but a wayward spirit in your mind. Am I not real? Do you not believe there are creatures among the stars more spirit than flesh, that were born from the flames of creation and can survive long after the end has come? Your simple concepts of absolute truths are a mockery of real truth.” Brimstone shook his head. “This is more than who wins and who loses, more than tho is right and who is wrong, it is about what will become of those who face extinction and survive. How will you survive and fight when you are at your end.

“But...” Brimstone let his words hang in the air like the ominous silhouette of a noose. “those events will be faced when the time has come. Right now, you should be asking a single question, one you have been avoiding ever since I had come. Now for the most important question of the evening, Jetstream.”

“...Why are you here?”

Brimstone smiled, pleased. He held no true happiness on his face, just contentment that Jetstream was catching up. “Correct.” Brimstone got up, only to turn in a circle to find a more comfortable spot to lie down on the cot. Jetstream thought that was odd. Brimstone had already stated he was just a construct of his own mind. “Events have progressed at an accelerated rate. I did not anticipate the construct to congregate with your kind so soon. While I expected that I would need to directly conduct events like I am now, that was intended to be much more distant step in my plans. It is too soon; too many of your kind know my influence is present.

“Such circumstances are not to be of much concern among your kind. Swearing your kind to secrecy is normally enough, but I must stick to the shadows in order to not be seen. If Herobrine as he now calls himself knows I am near, he will greatly accelerate his plans beyond my ability to predict.”

“Canterlot.” Jetstream dug into his recently resurfaced memories. The concept of a slaughter among the sanctuary of all ponykind was unfathomable, but now that he better understood the threat of Herobrine, he wasn’t so sure. That still left one more fear in the back of his skull. He knew Brimstone was in his head and could likely read his mind. One more issue, the biggest barrier in his trust of the entity stood firm. “Herobrine will attack Canterlot, but you willingly went with the plan.”

“A necessity. I am the only one who knows what he needs to break his bonds, the curse that prevents him from fully utilizing his powers. If he sees others taking steps to protect his only goal and weakness if he has not shown justifiable actions that reveal such information himself, he will retaliate with a fury unseen by ponykind. I can only be in one place at once, and I chose here. The Elements are better protected than the Bearers, and sit upon your largest mobile defense. A pitiful defense to be sure if he were at full strength, but even Herobrine will not take steps against an alicorn too soon. They might, just might, possess the power to challenge him on equal footing, especially together. He is powerful and arrogant, but not foolish.

“I have been working to bolster the defenses here and supply information as subtly as possible. Above all costs, the Bearers must not die, and that is why I chose to stay. Princess Luna is much more willing to listen to my clandestine advice than Celestia. I am doing everything in my power to prepare your fellow soldiers for a fight, including manipulating your sorcerers to better understand his powers via the construct.” Construct? Again, Brimstone used that word to speak of the Miner. “Once he discovers the price to kill the Bearers would be too high, he will turn on the only other target: the Elements once again. As to when the attack will occur, he knows the importance you place on each other’s lives. I believe you have an event coming ahead.”

Recognition and horror dawned on him. He remembered invitations being sent out last week. His unit was considered for security during the event. “The Grand Galloping Gala. The streets will be flooded with ponies.”

Brimstone nodded. “He will utilize his abilities and attack the city. While your soldiers and leaders struggle with the collateral damage, he will simply do the same as he just did, that is, force open the door and take them for himself. Killing the Bearers only ensures the Elements can’t be used against him. Regardless if he accomplishes that, he needs them to sever his own bonds. Dismembered and depowered as he is, if he ever regains his former strength...”

Brimstone let the threat hang in the air once more. “If you believe the construct to be all powerful and dangerous, you would go insane from seeing Herobrine in his madness and glory. That is why I am willing to work with his slaughter. I know the stakes. I know the price of his freedom. If he knows I am here, if he ever discovers I have been helping your kind, I can no longer stay in step with his plans. One way or another, he will attack the city and attempt a slaughter. Your kind cannot locate him, and I cannot stop him. The best plan is to make him believe his plan is functioning as it should until the last... possible... moment,” he hissed. “Then comes the stroke to put him back to sleep once again.”

“Asleep? Why not kill him? Your level of hatred suggests you would much rather have him dead,” Jetstream concluded. The sheer fortitude Brimstone carried fit a pony completely obsessed with his goal. If there was any desire stronger than greed or companionship, it was revenge. A ghost of a thought floated to the top of his mind, yet another experience in the dark depths of the caves.

“Because there is something I hate more than you.”

“What did he do to you?” Jetstream asked with curiosity.

“Our,” Brimstone hissed, “history is none of your concern. The Elements of Harmony are not capable of killing, and even if they were, it would not work. You cannot kill something like him; you have to put him back to sleep. What you should be worried about is yourself. Back to my main point before this little tangent, I am here for you.” That tiny, almost imperceptible smirk returned to Brimstone’s lips. “Your role in this has been exposed. You will be detained for questioning within six hours due to an unwarranted attack on the construct.”

“Your attack,” Jetstream corrected.

“They will not perceive my motives as such, if they even understand what I am doing for them.”

“Just tell them,” Jetstream countered. “They would understand.”

“I would be tempted to do so if it would not garner attention. You seem to overestimate my ability to remain hidden from Herobrine’s sight. He does not need his eyes to see me, and the knowledge that his foes are gaining help would surely draw his eyes and ire. It cannot be done, especially because I am certain he is close.

“All that matters at the moment is you. You alone have full knowledge of my existence, and that makes you a threat. I do not believe Princess Luna could discover my tampering with your mind, but I do not wish to take that risk. I am here for one reason, and one reason only.”

Jetstream felt his blood freeze. He tried to budge his wings, but they remained locked at his side. He shivered from cold, yet he did not feel the same distorted sense of danger from before. “You are here to kill me. You said you wouldn’t. Down in the caves.”

“I wasn’t going to kill you then. Now, however, is a different matter. Plans have changed, gears realigned, and my and Herobrine’s plans must accelerate. You are a danger to me, but I am not without mercy.” Brimstone casually lifted a hoof as if the act alone could sentence or clear him. “Whether you receive it relies solely on you.”

There it was again. The Eclipse, the final situation where all escapes are cut off and the only way out is a prayer to Celestia. All he had to do was talk. All he had to do was talk himself out of dying. “...How?”

Brimstone opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as Jetstream leaped for the door. With enough momentum, he might be able to snap the loops holding the door flaps together. That is, if he made it more than two feet. Just as his wings flared open, they immediately clung to his sides and he landed in a heap. Although unarmored, the air rushed from his lungs.

Brimstone was not amused. His voice was cool, “I suppose I deserved at least one escape attempt; I am terrible company after all. However, I will allow only one display of insolence. Recall I am in your head. Your mind and body are open books to me.” Against his will, Jetstream’s body rose and marched back to his bunkmate’s cot. He curled up and rested his haunches on the chaffing fibers. Jetstream glowered at him, knowing full well it would either not help in the slightest or earn him Brimstone’s wrath.

Neither occurred. In fact, Jetstream’s renewed defiance was rewarded by a look of... satisfaction? Pride? “Despite my reluctance to reveal myself, it will be almost guaranteed when they capture you. I can kill you to protect my secret, or allow you to reveal my existence to a select few. It comes down to this.”

Brimstone rose and rearranged himself again to better see Jetstream. The two of them, although clones in body, were antitheses of mind. If Jetstream was going to die, he was going to make sure Brimstone stared him down until the light left his eyes. “This is why I am here. This is your choice. For your fate, I am undecided, so I leave it up to you. Convince me, Jetstream. I am giving you the chance to convince me to let you live.”

Eclipse. Sun and the moon. Light and the dark. Good and evil. Life and death. Live or die.

The beginning and the end.

“Okay...” Jetstream believed the spirit would fulfill his promise and kill him if he was not convinced. “Okay...” He could feel his breath coming in faster and faster bursts.

‘Calm down, sergeant,’ he told himself. ‘Keep your cool. Stay frosty. He will do it.’ Jetstream took a few deep breaths to steady his hyperventilation and thready heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he lied down on all fours in order to better position himself for thinking. Thinking suddenly seemed much harder if he remained on his haunches. ‘Breathe, analyze, and think. You have a chance to cheat death and punch him in the sack. It’s a game of chess.’

“You have not told anyone else of your existence, or at least no one can confirm anything beyond your presence?” he asked after a minute.

“Correct. Those that have seen me in their dreams have yet to garner attention and have had their memories erased like yours.”

“You do this so nopony can discover you.”

“Correct.”

“Because if one of us does, then Herobrine has a greater chance of finding you.”

“Correct.”

“If he discovers you, he would accelerate his plans, which would cost lives and the chance to stop him.”

“Correct.”

Jetstream mulled it over in his head. It was quite the predicament indeed. However, there were a few possibilities he could pursue. “What if you told one and only one? Somepony with actual political and military weight to throw around? Princess Luna? Princess Celestia? The Archmage?”

“Your Archmage is a frail and broken sack of flesh. She is a specimen far too weak to hold my essence. It would not help in the slightest if I told her in another body; what little I gleaned from her mind before her body was rendered too ill to function assured me she would oppose my machinations by any means. Captain Barricade also spurned me, Celestia would view me as a malignance, and while Princess Luna is curious about me, would view me the same.”

“I can assure them myself that you mean no harm.”

Brimstone chuckled wryly. “Do you honestly believe me yourself?”

Jetstream hesitated, much to his chagrin and Brimstone’s amusement. “I’d have a better time believing you if you weren’t such an asshole.”

“Profanity aside, this is your situation to correct. I can always pick my first option.”

“I guess I should praise your generous options.”

“It cannot hurt your chances.” Jetstream snorted at the gallows humor. Brimstone’s smile stretched a little further. He could not help but chuckle; just a moment ago, he was panicking at the threat of death. Now he was in bed with an entity fully capable and willing to murder him where he sat, and yet was laughing at the prospects possible to save or kill him.

“What if one or more can be convinced?” Jetstream continued.

“I would certainly be more open minded towards letting you live.”

Another thought struck his mind, one he hadn’t considered just yet. “Hold that thought. Say you end up killing me. That would draw the eyes of the entire camp, including Princess Luna and Celestia. Even if you somehow manage to dispose of me entirely,” Brimstone smiled, although it was more amusement than sinister contemplation, “the fact I am under investigation as you say would draw attention. Imagine it: the star suspect suddenly drops dead or off the face of Equestria. It’s not somethin’ you can just hoof wave away.”

He had finally produced something to make Brimstone think. His copy’s smile dimmed in conjunction with some internal contemplation. “An undeniable possibility. However, it is not enough for me to acquiesce, if that was indeed your singular, solemn hope. I require more than an arbitrary assumption.”

Jetstream did not let the crashing wave of despair overwhelm him. He forced it back into a corner of his mind. Hopelessness would get him nowhere. Working through the problem would get him somewhere. “Alright. Alright... let’s talk about the cons before the pros.” Coming up with reasons killing him was a bad choice was a little easier than explaining why keeping him alive was a good one. The added time would allow him better chances to work out the kinks in his reasoning to let him live.

“Consider this. Herobrine has been the primary shithead. He’s attacked Miss Fluttershy once and Canterlot twice. It’s already personal for half the guard for being bitten on the flank so many times. Right now, Princess Luna considers you the safer bet. Herobrine doesn’t do this behind the scenes B.S., so she’s not going to consider him as the first suspect if you kill me. You will be. You can’t afford to lose whatever good graces you might have now that Herobrine has put himself in such a bad public position.”

“I assure you I am quite good at relieving suspicion,” Brimstone countered.

“How much time do you really have to do so, fighting the court on one end and Herobrine on the other? Can you afford fighting on two fronts? That’s basic tactics on the field right there; never get caught fighting on two fronts. Never get flanked.” Again, Brimstone did not immediately respond, another sign of a sound line of thought. Rather than give him a chance to bring down whatever momentum he had just gained, Jetstream continued before he had a chance to speak.

“What’s he like, Herobrine? How does he act?”

Brimstone spoke slowly, carefully weighing his words. It was the first sign of hesitation he gave. Jetstream didn’t know if that was beneficial to his case or not, or whether he was just carefully choosing what information to reveal. “He... is quite arrogant in his beliefs. He is a god with a true god complex, the inability... to believe lesser life forms are capable of strength of mind or will. It produces a recklessness in his heart; he does not believe he can be defeated, only impeded.”

“Pride. Hubris.” He had heard of better protected faults. And worse. “That’s why you are letting him attack according to his own plans; you’re feeding his pride until you pull the rug out from underneath his hooves.”

“Now you understand.” Brimstone nodded in satisfaction.

“Yes. And if he continues to act like he does, which seems likely given your description, that paints you as the good guy, and him the bad guy. I thought so. I can take your case to Luna or Celestia. I can show them everything I’ve learned from you and prove you are the best chance to fight him.”

“Possibly.” Jetstream’s heart sunk the moment Brimstone said that word. What did he miss? His logic was sound, “except Celestia and Princess Luna would still not believe you. Celestia does not possess the mental fortitude to sacrifice the few for the sake of the many. The lingering emotions and corruption of the spirit of darkness that plague Princess Luna naught five years ago still haunt her. It is against their impressive and yet obstructive moral fiber. Despite your plea on my behalf, it would not change their minds on that singular point, and everything would fall because of that fact.”

“Why not enter their mind like mine and find out yourself? You can remove any doubt that way. If they really don’t believe you, erase their memories.” Jetstream’s tongue glued to the roof of his mouth the moment he was finished. He had just suggested a mental attack on his liege lords. He had just committed conspiracy to commit treason. Oh Celestia, what was he doing to try to save his own skin?

“It would not matter. There is no reasonable doubt to prove me wrong. Even if they deny me, there is a chance of failure I am not willing to risk; Princess Luna’s capabilities in the mental arts may be enough to uncover my subterfuge. I will not take that chance.” His ears perked. Something about Brimstone’s tone drew his mind away from his perfidious thoughts. The words came a little too strong, a little too forced, even for someone as confident as him.

“You...” He could not stop the words as soon as the first crossed his tongue. “you can’t, can you?”

“I assure you I am perfectly capable,” Brimstone warned.

He didn’t listen, the clues finally snapping in place. Brimstone had proven time and time again he was capable of great power, but every strength had a weakness. Brimstone had let it slip that he could only possess one host at a time. He had also shown his disgust for pony bodies, but never actually praised his own; did he even have one? Given that he was a mentalist, it was not likely.

Unspoken limits, but limits nonetheless. Did that also mean there were ponies he couldn’t possess? Were Princesses Luna and Celestia simply too strong of mind and will to bend to Brimstone’s will?

Contemplating that would soon be a moot point. He knew what he needed to do, and it would force Brimstone’s hoof on the matter. Oh, Jetstream had an answer that would convince him without a doubt now, but first, he had one more thing, one fact he wanted to know. Brimstone noticed the finality in his eyes. Slowly, Jetstream removed himself from his bunkmate’s cot and looked him in the eye. Back straight, posture perfect, wings aligned on either side. All he was missing was armor to complete the image.

“Brimstone?”

“Yes?”

It was a risky question. Jetstream fully expected Brimstone to comply with his coming request, as it would do no harm, but the sergeant was unsure of the impending result.

“Before I say anything else, I gotta question. To reiterate, you are not a pony.”

“Correct.”

It was now or never. “Can I see what you really look like?”

For the first time, a flash of surprise crossed Brimstone’s face. Be it the request itself or the conviction behind his voice, Jetstream did not know the source of his momentary incredulity. “No.”

“I don’t trust you in the slightest. Make no mistake – ”

“But you cannot deny that my nature makes you curious.” He nodded. Brimstone sighed, another emotive sign he had yet to see. “I do not have a body. Not anymore.”

Of course. The body hopping, expertise in mind magic, and the disgust with physical forms all hinted that same conclusion. “Era’doth. Herobrine. He happened. I was once at the height of greatness, able to touch the heavens themselves. Now I have nothing but a spirit full of hate and a fallen kingdom. But...” Brimstone smiled coyly. “That is a story for another time. I can show you what I looked like before my body died, but... that would be most unwise.”

Jetstream nodded. It was time for the coup de grâs. He opened his mouth to say his final comment, only Brimstone was one step ahead of him.

“You have given up.”

What could he do otherwise?

“It’s not worth it.”

If he managed to convince Brimstone to let him live, it would result in more than an attack on Canterlot. He admitted the logic was sound, maybe even it was the only possible option, but at what cost? His loyalty to the alicorn diarchs? His sense of ethics? What kind of creature casually talks about murder as if it is nothing more than an unfortunate statistic? What fear compelled him to worry about his life more than the implications of Brimstone’s sociopathy?

“You could earn your life back.” Brimstone didn’t sound convinced he would take the offer. He was calm, resigned. Very much like how Jetstream felt.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two for you to have such a hateboner for him. I don’t think you’d even tell me. Whatever it was, it’s reduced you to... this,” he gestured to his phantasmal body. Jetstream looked for words to describe his feelings and unknowingly ended on the same note as his superior, Barricade. “There’s nothin’ left of you but your hate. Even if you get your revenge, it’ll solve nothin’. You’re like a wound filled with pus. If you win, if you drain it all, and there will be nothin’ left of you. You may not be the bad guy, but you’re not the hero either.”

Brimstone did not move, or even speak. He was quite adapt at guarding his emotions and thoughts, but he was completely motionless now, very akin to a statue. Jetstream, too, waited. For what, he did not know. Instead of the panic and determination that had recently driven him to comply to Brimstone’s will, all he felt was a tranquility, an ocean with mirror-smooth waves. The fear was finally gone.

After a long two minutes, Brimstone finally said, “I can compel you to obey me. I have done so in the past to others. You are no different.”

“Can you hold up forever?” Jetstream shook his head. No, he knew Brimstone couldn’t keep it up forever. “‘I can only be in one place at one time.’ I’ll fight you the moment you leave.”

“You do not even attempt to make me believe you, only to inform your superiors later?”

Jetstream chuckled. “Would it have worked.”

A smile crossed Brimstone’s lips once more. Although partially crafted from the subtle jab at humor, it was his own sign of acceptance, an acknowledgement that he could not change the soldier’s mind. “No, it would not.”

Jetstream sighed. That calm air had not left him. He expected he might panic, or even fight. He felt along his body, gauging his own involuntary responses. Knees did not shake, voice did not waver, tears did not flow, and his head was tall and straight. He was ready.

“I’m going to kill you, sergeant.”

There wasn’t really any other way to respond to that. It wasn’t a threat, just a statement of fact mixed with the smallest question if it was what he truly wanted.

“I know. It’s just... I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want to give up what’s important just to save the day. I’m not putting a price on my honor. I’m a soldier. If I’m not willing to die for something, what use do I have living for nothin’?”

At that, Brimstone chuckled. “Captain Barricade said something similar. You both want me to change. But really, where would I be without my anger? It is all I have left, my last vestige of strength. I am not about to give that up so freely.” Brimstone gaze hardened in determination. He truly dreaded the moment Herobrine wronged this creature. If there was anything stronger in Brimstone than the drive for vengeance, it would be the anguish if he ever succeeded in his mad gambit. “You have no right to take my only sanctuary.”

The pair chuckled in unison. Soon the two were heartily laughing in some unspoken mirth.

“I can’t convince you not to, can I?”

“No,” Brimstone replied. “It is here where our ideologies divide. Any last requests?”

Jetstream’s ears perked. He walked to his own cot and reached underneath. Taped next to the aluminum skeleton was a single wrapped cigar. Tearing off the plastic, he lit it in the flames of a nearby candle. After a few puffs, he soon had a dull orange glow from the opposite end. Light smoke filtered through the room. Although in close proximity to Jetstream, Brimstone did not seem to mind. In fact, the acrid smoke drifted right through his body. Brimstone did say he didn’t have a body. Seeing positive proof was another matter.

“Imported brand. No one makes cigars like the griffons.” He gave another puff. Only then did he realize that Brimstone wasn’t even breathing. Another oddity. “Always loved these and saved a few for when I’m off duty. Don’t tell my NCO.”

Jetstream held the cigar in his teeth, casually blowing smoke. Brimstone shook his head. “I do not believe that will be a problem.”

“No, suppose it won’t.”

Brimstone stepped slowly got up and stepped off the cot. The cot neither creaked nor groaned as it shifted under the shifting application of stress. Given he was nothing but an apparition, Jetstream felt he shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, put out his almost untouched cigar, and tossed it in the waste basket. It was a shame; that one was expensive.

Jetstream chuckled. The sardonic humor was lost on Brimstone. “Did I miss something?”

He chuckled again. “You called me sergeant. You haven’t done that.”

For once, Brimstone’s smile was completely genuine. “You’ve grown, Sergeant Jetstream.”

“Yeah... I know...” Silence. “Will it hurt?”

He didn’t believe the childlike whisper came from his own throat. Brimstone shook his head.

“No. It will be like going to sleep.”

Light shined through the crack in the door. It really was a beautiful sunset.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Cor Thunder, Material Defender, Hyperbole, arachnidsGrip

Chapter 32: Dragon's Teeth

Chapter 32: Dragon’s Teeth

The midnight moon shined through the clouds from on high. It was enough light for Night Guards to maneuver through the garrison with ease, especially with the flickering torchlight for those less accustomed to working in the dark. Princess Luna, Captain Hawk, and First Lieutenant Lightning Chaser stood at the forefront of a tent swarmed with Night Guards, Royal Guardponies, and the occasional magus.

The princess, being easily a head taller than everypony else, caught the attention of Professor Incantus and Second Lieutenant Skylar. The pair approached the group. “Highness,” they said together in a formal greeting and bowed.

“Rise and report.”

Skylar was first. He had taken the time to gather his armor and looked well, but given the late hour, he looked dead on his hooves. “Sergeant Jetstream is missing, Highness.” He wheezed a sardonic laugh. “We’ve set up a ten kilometer grid and are expanding in concentric circles after every pass. His bunkmate was the last to see him and reported he left Jetstream alone at eighteen thirty hundred hours.”

The many milling guards parted around the trio with an unspoken courtesy and allowed her to approach a scullery maid being interrogated by a soldier bearing the rank of captain.

“The maid here,” Skylar jerked his head to the pony in question, “claims to have been sitting outside the adjacent tent until nineteen thirty hours before leaving. She claims to have been... er, “looking for a roll in the hay” as the soldiers came and went. According to her, Jetstream never left the tent for as long as she was present.”

Her interrogator left the mare. She eyed his rump as he left and licked her lips. Luna caught a whiff of an unmistakable spicy and musky scent. “Make sure this mare is discharged until her state of mind is no longer addled by carnal needs, second lieutenant. Can her testament be trusted?”

“I have no justifiable reason to doubt her. She kept a notebook with a few fantasies concerning the soldiers as well as some of their schedules. Her details, however hormonally misguided, are accurate. She even recorded the time she noticed the sergeant’s door was locked shut from the inside.”

“Elaborate.”

Skylar halted by the front door. Ponies continued to file in and out when they duties required. A pungent scent wafted from inside, causing Hawk’s second to look inside the open tent curiously. “Sergeant Jetstream’s door was left open when the bunkmate left. After an undetermined length of time, the scullery maid noticed that his door was locked from the inside. Well, locked is not quite accurate. All of these tent flaps are built to close with rope loops and bits of wood. While not particularly sturdy, they are built for privacy and protection from the elements. The tent stakes are also firmly in place, meaning he didn’t finagle under the tent either. In short, the sergeant shut the tent flap and didn’t leave for the maid’s stay. He is not inside, so he can’t be more than two hours in the wind.”

Luna narrowed her eyes. “The coward has fled? I do not believe you would ask me to come myself if this is everything pertaining to his treachery.” A shift in the wind brought more of the foul smell to their sensitive noses.

“Indeed, highness. I’ve checked the records; all of his gear is in secure storage, untouched. All of his personal effects are in this tent, also untouched. It was well past shift change, so he couldn’t have snuck out easily, and no one recalls seeing him anywhere. He’s up and vanished.” Skylar carelessly kicked a rock in mild irritation. It rolled uselessly before stopping next to a cart full of hay bales and the slight burst of adrenaline seemed to sap whatever remaining energy he possessed. His head hung low and he legs wobbled before he regained the energy to remain standing.

The charcoal grey coat of Hexxus Incantus stepped forward and adjusted his glasses. With a disheveled mane, unkempt coat and fur, and bloodshot eyes, he looked even worse for wear than Skylar in terms of fatigue. He adjusted the black cloak identifying him as a Council member, better wrapping it around his pudgier abdomen to better provide warmth. “I do suppose this is where I come in. Please, Highness, step inside.”

Upon hearing that title, the magi and soldiers inside the tent filled out. Skylar joined Hawk, Hexxus, Lightning, and Luna and together they walked inside while Hawk and Lightning parted the tent flaps for their charge. The foul odor hit them in full. Hexxus sneezed. “Bless you,” Skylar said. “That’s a foul stench no matter how many times I smell it. We’re not quite sure why it’s in the air.”

“I have already requested the resources and ponypower necessary to analyze vapor samples.” He sneezed again. The caustic air had been stagnant until it was disturbed by those looking for the wayward sergeant. “It smells like somepony had some rotten eggs sitting around for a couple days.”

“Foul indeed,” Hawk agreed. “Some type of alchemy?”

“Sulfur,” Lightning corrected. She sniffed the air and nodded, confirming some unvoiced suspicion. “Scent’s too sharp. Maybe mixed with niter. Unless...” She sniffed the air a few more times and her ears perked in surprise. “No, just sulfur.” There was something odd in the way her eyes shifted as she started searching the tent. Insignificant, seemingly normal, objects caught her eye: the beds, the nightstand, the grass. She blinked, squinted at the bunkmate’s bed, and smiled.

A typical officer tent, it contained little other than a bed, dresser, and cabinet for a pair of officers. An envelope was half hazardly splayed on the nightstand, but the room was otherwise kept clean.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. Except that every blade of grass was blackened and dead. The devastated flora crunch and crumbled to dust under their hooves. Crushed grass marked the past paths of guards and magi as they came and went. “I haven’t had much time to investigate, but what I have has only asked more questions than answers, not that there was much to discover to begin with.” Hexxus sighed. For the first time since he arrived, Luna could see the toll stress had done to the stallion. Already well into his fifties, age and duty had weighed on him before, and the endless supply of mysteries and danger throughout the past week had done little to ease the burden.

Hexxus shook his head and his face became one of impassive professionalism, brightening his once downtrodden demeanor. His lips curved as if he heard some unspoken joke. “That awful stench has its source in this tent, but we can’t find anything capable of producing it. Whatever did, I assume it is now gone as the smell is noticeably lighter than it was once we first entered. We can only guess that it killed the grass in the process, but that is nothing but baseless conjecture.

“The only other thing of note is the good Sir Skylar interviewed the chap who bunked with Jetstream and he said this was not here when he left. Now the dead grass is by no means dangerous or anomalous, but the fact prevails that it wasn’t here before and it no longer contains any residual bacterial life. In addition, we can find no normal signs of fire, which is what looked like killed the grass, but there are no usual signs of a fire like smoke damage. I cannot even discern why the damage does not extend beyond the tent.”

“Hmmm?” Lightning hummed, looking over the whole tent in a calculated search. As the mare was a seasoned tracker and investigator, the detail was absorbed into her mind like a sponge. “Magic?” Her eyes scanned over the tent once again, looking for something.

“You will have to explain this to me, professor,” Luna said.

“As you wish, princess. And I don’t know just yet, first lieutenant. All soil contains varying degrees of life; bugs, worms, or simple soil bacteria live in just about everything. What we have here is completely dead. Preliminary samples contain no life whatsoever, not even fledgling seeds for grass. Now this can very rarely occur in nature, but this is rural farming ground that just suffered through a week of rain. There should be something. There just isn’t.” Hexxus through his hooves up in exasperation. “It would be interesting if I could think of a possible reason why it’s here. I can detect no recognizable magic and I don’t see how this in anyway relates to your missing escaped pony, and that is all I have to offer at the moment.”

“Very well, you two. Continue your investigations as necessary. You both will receive all available funding and resources needed to assist in Sergeant Jetstream’s capture,” Luna said. The pair bowed in thanks.

“If I may?” Lightning asked Hawk. He in turn gave Luna a questioning look, who nodded. Lightning walked forward, twitching her bat wings in delight at being able to begin a hunt. Hawk ran a hoof through his silver mane and sighed; she would never change.

Lightning approached Jetstream’s bed and made another visual sweep. She started sniffing his bed, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She picked at the sheets for any hairs or particulates, then started examining the stitching. Done with that, she wormed her way under his bed.

“Ah, thought so,” she exclaimed in triumph.

“What is it?” Skylar asked, surprised that he missed something in evidence collection.

“Stop talking. It’s distracting.” Wiggling out, they could see something that looked like plastic in her teeth. She set that on Jetstream’s bed for evidence collection.

“Wh – ”

“Stop that. Stop thinking.”

Her next target was the nightstand between the beds. Her eyes marked a scuff mark at the base, and moved onto the letter. She held it as if it were a viper and gave it the usual scrutiny. Paper type, ink, address, name, strokes, all absorbed with an eidetic memory. Taking the letter subpoenaing the missing sergeant out of the envelope, she examined it for a few seconds before placing it back inside.

Finished with that, she started on the dead grass, but something caught her eye halfway through her examination. The four waited as she laid prone on the ground, examining something they couldn’t see. She rose and walked out of the tent, returning a moment later with a vial and a glass small glass slide. She scooped some thick but minute traces of gray powder into both and set them onto bed. Returning to her work, she slid the garbage pail out of her way and continued examining the grass. Skylar and Hexxus winced in disgust as she cautiously dug out a small sample of dirt and licked it.

The bunkmate’s bed was next and subject to a similar peculiar exam. Eyes level with the sheets, something had once again caught her attention. For a second time, she exited the tent and brought an item for evidence collection, this time a full water bottle and an evidence bag. She plucked something from the bunkmate’s bed, sealed the bag, and set both on Jetstream’s bed.

“Bring the bunkmate in, will you?” she asked Skylar without looking. Skylar, having been ordered not to talk, eyed Hawk questioningly. He nodded, Skylar sighed, and walked off to fetch the other soldier.

Lightning walked toward the bunkmate’s empty bed and put her cheek against the covers. She spread her hooves out slowly in both directions, eyes closed. The remaining trio just looked on and let the strange mare be.

At that moment, Skylar’s burly form escorted in another soldier. This one looked like most Royal Guardpony pegasi, except he had a splotch of chocolate brown fur over his muzzle. He looked confused at being inside the tent and reeked of alcohol.

“He’s not...” she began, but trailed off. She got off the bed and approached the stallion.

“I, uh...” He started babbling incoherently before she silenced him with a hoof to his mouth. She put her other hoof on his head and turned him so he was looking at Skylar to his right. Without any warning, Lightning leaned forward and licked his neck.

Red blossomed across his head and neck faster than dye spread on cloth. “Hey, hey, hey!” Lightning let go and his eyes went wide with shock. “Let me buy you a drink first before we get to that stage.”

“I don’t need him anymore. He can go.” Lightning turned without looking at him and walked away. The stallion withered under the cold shoulder, his alcohol-induced confidence shriveling with every step she took away from him. With a smile and a snigger, Sylar escorted him out. The stallion walked gingerly, as her inexplicable and deeply personal action had caused more than his indignation to rise.

“I hope,” Hawk began, a smile also on his lips, “that lick will produce something a little more fruitful than a cold shower for a poor stallion.”

“I needed to taste his scent to better rule out which was his. And I’m not that exploitative.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Only when it is necessary.”

“Only when you can get away with it.”

“You have nothing on me if I can prove sexual harassment was necessary to solve a pertinent case.”

“The courts will disagree, especially after I tell them about what happened at the Night Court last year.”

“You try telling them why I needed Blueblood alone with a lizard.”

Hawk laughed, the noise deep and throaty. Luna smirked, clearly in on the joke, while Hexxus and Skylar only looked on, confused. Lightning saw their bewilderment and said, “I’m not telling them if you’re not, captain.”

“Agreed. It’s caused us enough paperwork already. Although, he was a lot more amiable afterwards...”

“While reminiscing has proved enjoyable,” Luna interrupted, “bigger concerns lie ahead. Please continue, Ms. Chaser.”

Lightning did just that. She spread herself across the bed once again, sniffing occasionally. After nodding her head in confirmation, she moved away form the beds and opened both Jetstream’s and the bunkmate’s dressers. There were small, compact things, hardly capable of holding more than the most basic clothes like shirts and doublets for underarmour protection. She started sniffing random garments, taking in the scents of both soldiers in order to discern them from each other. She found a picture in Jetstream’s dresser. A stallion with a scar under his chin sat and smiled gleefully with a little gray filly with a silver mane. The pair were underneath a large oak tree in the middle of some field, but both participants expressed the happiness and delight associated with a familiar place and happy memory.

She put the photo away and moved towards the trash bin. It contained the usual miscellaneous paper, debris, and trash one would expect. She extracted one item in particular: a single cigar just barely used. “There you are...”

“You act as if you expected it to be here,” Hexxus commented before sealing his lips tight in remembrance of her warning.

“I did. You can smell a hint of the smoke in the air and on the sheets. You were looking so hard for the source of the sulfur, you didn’t smell what else was in the air. I smelt it before I even came in.” She put the cigar with the evidence. In one final odd act, she licked the sheets on both beds, tasting the scent.

“Okay, let’s see what we got.” Taking the water bottle, she used the liquid inside like a lens to examine the gray powder.

“We have microscopes and magnifying glasses if you need them.”

“Too tedious,” she responded. She put both down before lifting up the cigar. She sniffed the tip before removing some of the filling and eating it.

“Sweet, Celestia, what are you doing?” Skylar exclaimed. “That’s evidence, you foolish mare! It might even be poisoned!”

Lightning blinked and stared at him. Although he was second in command of the base, she still outranked him. She stared at him for a few more moments before he broke the silence. “Well, say something!”

“I was waiting for you to discover how stupid your comment was.”

“Lightning...” Hawk warned.

“Pffft. If somepony used poison, the horny maid would have seen a pony carrying his carcass away. Since there was an anti teleportation bubble placed over the entire base since the discovery of the Farlander’s ability to teleport, that rules out a unicorn blinking in and out of the tent with him. Either way, nopony saw anyone strolling off with an unusually large burlap sack shaped like a pony. And the reason why I can do what I wish is because there’s no pony better than me.”

She sniffed. “Plus, awful waste of a good Highlands brand.”

“You can tell the difference by taste alone?” Hexxus asked, amazed.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Hawk glared at her with an unspoken demand to behave herself. “Yes, I can. I smoked as many cigars as I could over the course of a year, one a day, and examined the ashes of every one.” Hexxus and Skylar both blanched. “This is a Griffin Highlands brands produced somewhere between five to seven years to go. The Highlands have a higher alkali content in the soil that makes it taste saltier and the type of ashes confirm it.” She pointed at the gray powder. “I got the year because the Highlands pulled an exceptionally good crop then, but high rains reduced the quality for the next three years. This is a good one.”

The pair stared at her with mouths open. “I’m curious as to how long it would take you to discover this without me. Ignorance must be bliss.”

Lightning continued with one more piece of evidence, the bag that turned out to be nothing but white hairs. She turned on a desk lamp and examined the follicles under better light. Removing one from the bag, she gave a brief sniff before putting it back. “Okay, I believe that’s everything.”

“So, first lieutenant, to where did the cur flee?” Luna asked. Luna could feel her muscles tensing again and again.

Lightning licked her lips. “I haven’t the faintest clue, princess. I think the better question is whether or not he was murdered.”

That caused a stir. Hexxus cast a spell to halt sound from carrying out of the room and Hawk was the first to start grilling the tracker. “There better be good reason for this accusation, Lightning.”

“I said better question. I’m still not sure,” she defended herself. “I’ll start from the top. I’m certain the maid’s and the bunkmate’s testimony accurately conveyed events, at least everything else corroborates their story.” She sat down, crunching grass under her rump; it was going to be a long explanation. “The maid claims the sergeant did not physically leave the tent for as long as she left.”

Hawk noticed the choice of words. Given his company, he’d had a lot of practice. “”Claimed?” You said you were certain she is correct.”

“I said she claimed he did not physically leave. Let me finish, please. The timelines fit, but too many things don’t add up. The only thing for certain is that he was here at eighteen thirty hours. The only thing the maid’s testimony proves is that he did not physically leave until nineteen thirty hours, and I am growing more and more certain that whatever happened to him happened before she left.

“After the bunkmate left, that’s when things get fuzzy. What I don’t understand is why Sergeant Jetstream started lying on the bunkmate’s bed. Those hairs,” she nodded towards the bag on the bed, “are his. His scent and sweat is all over it. I needed the bunkmate here to rule out which scent was his in case somepony else was in here. Getting it from the source is the best way, despite alcohol tainting his scent and amateurs contaminating the evidence. So far, the only scents on the bed are from the two of them, with the sergeant’s scent being far stronger than it should be in cramped quarters.

“What I can’t make sense of is why he was in the bunkmate’s bed. The scent and the ashes on that side of the tent confirm Jetstream was on his bunkmate’s bed for a lengthy amount of time. Why? He’s got his own bed.

“I found the cigar plastic wrap under Jetstream’s bed. Little shreds of plastic caught in the box spring confirm the cigar as his and he hid it under his own bed due to it being contraband. Considering he stayed on the bunkmate’s bed and that there are no sweat stains on his own, I conclude something else was indeed in here.”

“Wait, wait, wait... you just said no pony came or left,” Hexxus said. “How is that possible? It is a paradox, unless Jetstream left after the maid did.”

“What time did you and Skylar get here?”

“Twenty hundred hours. Why?”

“I severely doubt he managed to chat with a guest and escape in a half hour window of opportunity with a garrison looking for him.”

“I believe you said something,” Luna said. “Not somepony, something.”

“Considering the cigar and the lack of any other scents, yes. I think something was in here with him in the hour between when the bunkmate left and when the professor and second lieutenant arrived. Why else would he sit in a bed that is not his and not even finish a cigar that’s three hundred bits a box? If he was going to be leaving, why smoke...” she looked at the cigar, “about five minutes of a cigar and throw it in the garbage? Why not take it with him? Why not take the bag of bits he has in the back of his dresser? Because he was busy with other things on his mind.

“Why smoke the cigar? The room is immaculate and all the clothes are folded according to what we are taught in boot camp. Why a sudden inclination to smoke and roast the local flora? Not doing so would provide less evidence.

“Why not go AWOL immediately after his secret was out instead of waiting several hours? He would have had plenty of time to leave once he got word the Miner was moving underground. Being temporarily suspended, no one would have questioned him going into town and disappearing into a coach or into the forest. He had every reason to leave as soon as possible.

“The only variables that I cannot explain are the grass and the sulphur smell, but I see no other reason why he would use a bed that is not his own and sweat like he was being threatened at knife point. Something else had to be in here with him doing exactly that. Our assumption has always been Jetstream threatened the Miner for some reason. That never sat well with me. What reason? Why? There’s nothing to gain. I’m starting to believe more happened down in those caves than we know. I think he smoked that cigar not because he had a craving, but because something else was in here with him, the organ grinder to Jetstream’s monkey. He needed to settle his nerves... Or he knew he was about to die...”

“He... in an interview, he once said he felt like his head was full of holes. Like his memory was chopped to pieces and stitched together...” Skylar’s voice was rattled with solemn horror. “I thought it was just nerves and selective amnesia...”

Luna and Hawk’s eyes were wide. The implications were terrible, and the ramifications were equally great if the truth got out. A murder right in the middle of a garrison? On a pony who was already under investigation?

“What do we do? What do we say?” Hexxus was completely lost, unable to comprehend an answer to anything.

“Continue as we were,” Luna declared to them all. “Until we have answers, Jetstream is wanted for question on the assault, battery, and intimidation of the Miner. Despite the evidence, it is naught but suggestive and circumstantial. Until we have answers, real answers...”

Luna’s eyes hardened. They needed to know, especially if the case was related. “In case it is, there is something that needs to be addressed. Listen carefully. I must tell you about an entity named Herobrine...”

A iron-gray squirrel lodged deep in the Everfree Forest burrowed at the base of a great and twisted beech tree. A hidden test of hazelnut and walnuts was buried under several layers of old leaves and carefully placed bark. The forest, especially this forest, was a dangerous place to live. It was best to have little stores of food to matter who or what you were.

It stuffed his cheeks full of as many nuts as he could fit, along with a few in his arm for good measure. Eyes open and ears alert, the squirrel carefully climbed up the nearest tree. It placed its claws on the bark that would not bend or break so easily. Doing otherwise would no doubt leave marks for larger, more dangerous predators to follow.

The squirrel had learned from others of its kind and fellow scavengers that safety and fear were necessary in order to survive in such a dangerous and violent place. The darkness of night blanketed the forest. Darkness never left the forest, even if the full moon or shining sun were at their zenith in the sky. Leafy overhangs always concealed the sky. Even under the most searing, burning heat, there were stretches of the forest that never saw the light of day. Some monsters woke up in the dark, but some also fell asleep.

The rodent knew the risks of venturing out at night, but it also knew that the monsters that prowled in the darkness were big and ignored the smaller creatures of the evergreens. Fear and caution were always necessary, just in case. Once, far in the past as its ancestors recalled, large quadrupedal animals lived in the forest. Legends existed of their multihued bodies –

It ducked its furred body close to the tree, clinging to the shadows close to the tree’s heart. A flock of several massive eagles dove through branches and hanging vines. Some of those vines drew close to the avians as they passed, but quietly returned to their respective places as they scattered and flew. Finding a hole in the canopy, the eagles rushed through it and out of sight.

The forest was quiet. That was a bad, very bad, portent; it was a paradoxical antithesis to the very nature of the Everfree Forest. Trees, vales, cliffs, and canyons were vibrant and filled with some kind of life, yet the omnipresent silence of the nocturnal denizens hinted at something terrible: they were all listening for something even worse than them.

Something stampeded through the forest undergrowth, crushing ferns and rotted stumps in its wake. Focusing its recently acquired night vision, the squirrel saw a herd of elk. Their large horns scraped against trees and each other. One buck accidentally smacked the broad side of his rack against the tree and flailed to his back as it threw him off balance. The buck stumbled to his feet and trailed after his companions.

Silence crossed the forest once again, and this made the squirrell truly afraid. It could hear other, bigger creatures fleeing into the forest, creatures a lot bigger and stronger than elk or giant eagles. Something worse was near.

The light dimmed and ate at the ambient moonlight leaking through the canopy. A wave of black started eating everything else hugging closer to the ground, the moss, lichens, stone, and extraneous plant life. It was higher up in the trees, but the eerie blackness sparkled with light and moved with a mind of its own.

Peering around a knot, it looked down for a better look at the forest floor. Everything was covered in waves of darkness, except for a lone figure. It was tall, but not nearly as big as most monsters. A manticore might need to take two bites to devour it, but there was something... wrong with the creature. Old instincts never forgotten through countless generations demanded activation of that age-old compulsion: fight or flight? Its hair stood on end, wary and fearful of the creature below.

It knelt and placed a limb against the mossy undergrowth. The darkness parted by unspoken command and yielded access to the soft loam. A soft thrumming haunted the air, an ancient and forgotten call unheard of since time immemorial. The creature was saying something, but so soft that nothing close could hear it. Underneath its palms, earthworms and grubs rose to the surface and fled in terror. The thrumming grew stronger into a steady pulse that beat to some eldritch heart. The rodent couldn’t help but watch in awe and horror. Something terrible was about to happen, something incredible, but terrible all the same. The siren call of chaos and death demanded tribute as the underground vermin fled.

Black, putrid filth leaked from the creature’s body and into the earth. Globules suffocated and destroyed whatever poor creatures the deathly ooze touched. It leached into the ground and water table, poisoning the earth and destroying the flora.

The ground shifted.

From within the depths of the poisoned earth, something new arose, begotten by old magic. Underneath the dark fog writhed the tormented souls of servants to a dark and angry god. It moved and pulsed in tune with the heartbeat.

“Uuuuuuaghhhh...”

Something groaned from within the squalid cradle. Out of the ground burst a limb topped with a quintet of digits. One finger hung off a an angle clearly broken. The arm was stained with the browns and blacks of earth, along with the effluvium secreted by the creature. The second creature lurched out of the ground in an uncoordinated heap. It was another bipedal creature very much like the first, only this one had skin splashed with red, green and white. It looked like it had died a dozen times before being born again from darkness and evil.

The air was cut by a loud, raspy hiss. A gargantuan, black creature descended through the open canopy. It was jet black and profusely excreting the same toxic sludge that birthed the dead creature, only this one was nothing but a fleshy ribcage topped by a trio of shrunken, sunken skulls. Black flesh clung to the the creature, some of it hanging off in meaty lumps. One of the heads hissed a sound akin to the final cry of a dying basilisk. The squirrel had rumors that the mountains were haunted by a creature made from darkness and shadows, but it never thought it was true. Even the mere sight of the creature made it relieve itself in fear; the image of three bodies melted into a solid, tormented body would give anything nightmares for months.

It glided behind the kneeling biped on a nonexistent wind and waited. It made the occasional death rattle but was otherwise silent. The same was true for the rotten biped. It was hunched as if wounded, but it waited on the kneeling creature as a lion tended to the pack leader.

More limbs burst from the ground. Some were many, distended, and hairy, while others clanked and rattled. Monsters. It was breeding and growing monsters. The field was alive with movement and cacophonous din. Moan, groans and cries pierced the air, the earth gaped and shadows split, revealing dozens, if not hundreds, of suffering faces.

Rather than watch the hell before it grow, the squirrel dropped everything and ran. It was beautiful. It could not help it, but the chaos held something gorgeous and wonderful, and fantastically terrifying. It ran and never looked back. Every step was an attempt to bury the images of the dead bodies, the floating corpse amalgamation, and the creature that was more monster than flesh. It needed to be stopped. The rodent had occasionally heard stories of a healer at the farthest edge of the forest with the power over all animals. Maybe, just maybe, that healer could help.

From branch to branch it ran from the creature kneeling in studious work. Little did the squirrel know the source of the creature’s motives. A god had challenged it and lived. Its role and intent had finally been revealed. Perhaps something a little more... drastic was in order. Freedom required a price, after all, a sacrifice. A hand clutched to its chest and wrapped around a chain binding itself.

Freedom... oh, sweet freedom. An eternity of darkness and sleep, of emptiness so vast that even the emptiness itself would birth life. It was enough to drive anything to desperation. Freedom. It was so close, oh so close, just a little bit farther...

One by one, monsters rose from the earth at their master’s beckoning call.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Cor Thunder, Material Defender, Retsamoreh

Author's Note

Hello once again for round two of my appreciation to my editors!

I love the SCP Foundation, and when I made my own story, I made the same mistake I did with At the End and wrote is while the plot was only half finished. Bad idea. Thankfully, Nonagon pointed out the error in my ways. Sometimes an editor’s brain needs to slap a reader’s brain and say, “Shut up, let me think for you!” Combining the existential horror of humanity at it’s forever battle with itself, Death Note: Equestria combines the current MLP mythos with that of the Death Note stories. It’s a little grim, but worth a shot.

Another skilled in SCP dossiers was Trachyon. It’s never a good idea to proofread your own stuff, especially when you need the dry rhetoric of a scientific document. Read Sibling Support and prepare for feels.

Chronic ~~nemesis~~ friend Softy8088 has ~~plotted against me~~ helped me with several future projects of mine. I’m not really going to talk about them just yet until they come around, so I’ll just leave it at that. He’s created one of my favorite saucy taboo stories (clop NSFW), called Complicated Relations, and a thought-provoking tale about morality in the MLP universe. Take a moment and read the tale The Cost of Life. He helps counterbalance my weakness in character development by being awesome in writing those scenes himself. Thanks, dude. ~~Softy, you must die! I alone am best!~~

BigMacDavis’ role was short lived, but necessary. In the early days of the sight, I had discovered something called clop. After I stopped hiding under my bed, I took a small risk and tried a tiny seen with his help. It’s hard to shine a brick, but my attempt would have been far worse without him. He’s a clop writer who has written a trio of NSFW stories, even if he was caught in the untempered schism and removed from time and space (I think).

Oh, Wearin Hat. If only you had 100,000 more words for me to read. For now, take two minutes and enjoy A Life Denied.

Chapter 33: The Third Day

Chapter 33: The Third Day

“I do thank you for having me over, Miss Sparkle.” Diamond Solitaire’s pearly-white magic leveled the teacup to his snout. “Although the other magi are my intellectual equals, few desire a simple chat merely to brainstorm. Good thing to do so now, as it looks like there is some weather coming our way.”

“It’s no problem. In fact, I asked you over here due to an artifact the Miner gave me earlier this morning.” This made Diamond’s eyebrows inch upwards.

It was ten in the morning, and the smell of tea and coffee flooded Twilight’s sitting room. Although Diamond much prefered tea, it was coffee for the librarian. Her bed head was still getting a combing treatment as she sorted the previous day’s returned books for the coming morning trickle. Books flew from the return bin through the air like little specters, all returning to their rightful place.

Twilight took a draft of her coffee and winced. “Ugh, too black.” Nevertheless, she took another drink. “It is not a problem, Mr. Solitaire.”

“Please, call me Diamond.”

“Very well, Diamond.”

Diamond took another sip of his tea and sighed. “So, what is this artifact?”

Twilight grinned conspiratorially and said, “I’m still waiting on a few tests down in my lab. I’ll show you in a moment. Now I believe you wanted to discuss the Miner’s abilities?”

“Why, yes.” Despite his sandy-brown fur, Twilight couldn’t help but be reminded of Fancypants as the stallion brought the tea to his lips. He did have a Canterlot drawl after all. “Are you familiar with the term hydrostatic shock?”

“Yes, but doesn’t that only apply when a force is applied to a liquid?”

“I only use the concept, dear. We have seen the Miner’s ability to force matter to lose cohesion, but this only occurs when he strikes an object. Whether it be an axe in his hand or,” something slowed his train of thought, “...punching trees... he exerts a certain type of kinetic force on an object. My working theory is that his body naturally produces a quantifiable energy that disturbs molecular bonds in order for him to break them down and absorb them. I do not believe he violates Starswirl’s Law of Interchange and Distribution of Matter and Magic. If this theory holds true, he only absorbs and dissipates energy at will, never producing or creating it like the possible ectoentropic lifeform we estimated he was.”

“It could revolutionize magic as we know it if it could be applied to conventional magics,” Twilight started, “but not even physics works right when he is involved. That Aether Gate over Ponyville defies the very law of gravity itself, and that’s not even getting close to how he actually absorbs materials. He can break them down, but where do they go?”

“Goin’ out, Twilight! Back in an hour!” a voice called from the adjacent room.

“Spike!” Twilight called out to the house. “You can’t keep leaving every time I have a magus over to talk!”

“But it’s boring!” he shot back. “Why can’t you consider raves and bowling fun like normal ponies!”

“I’ll have you know a friendly debate can be a relaxing and enjoyable experience! And pick up some eggs and a loaf of bread!”

Twilight heard a grunt of affirmation and the doorbell ringing before all went quiet. “Sorry about that.”

“It is quite fine, Miss Sparkle. This is not my domicile after all.”

“Please, call me Twilight.”

“Very well. Now, where were we? Ah! I think the question might be the answer itself for where all that matter goes: it never stays matter.”

Twilight downed the remaining dregs and stared at her empty cup forlornly. “I don’t understand. You are referring to some type of conversion? That’s hard to do....” Twilight trailed off. “The chests!”

“Exactly as I determined. My brief time among the mansion’s interiors was brief, but his chests were an item I payed close attention to. Inside was naught but his strings of energy that I believe are the remains of broken down matter.”

“He has the ability to transfer matter to energy at will...” Twilight whispered.

“And back again. His body is a living energy battery, capable of breaking down matter and absorbing it into his body, or placing it in some type of storage like the chests. However, that does not explain how he is capable of reproducing this feat with constant consistency; he is capable of producing items that are chemically indistinguishable from each other. I also do not understand how two vastly different physical laws can possibly coexist without problems.”

Twilight’s eyes sparkled as thoughts about an entire new branch of science budded within her crowded brain. Bags with bottomless capacity, her own private room capable of holding an entire lab within the confines of her magic! Why, she might be able to manipulate it into her very own pocket dimension! The possibilities!

A loud whistle reached through the basement door, snapping Twilight out of her reverie. “Ah! It’s done!” Twilight disappeared downstairs while Diamond patiently waited for her return. Helping himself to a pot of brewed tea, he continued to sip until Twilight clattered up the stairs with a glass flask full of a dirty cyan fluid. “His abilities still bring up the concern of a breach in whatever containment he has, but that is for another time. Now this is something he gave me to study.”

“One of his alchemy potions...” he breathed, enthralled at the prospect. “He had only revealed one potion to us in his fight with Miss Chaser...”

“Wonderful, isn’t it!?”

“Very much so, my dear. However, I fear it may be for naught. Down in the caves, a wounded pony consumed a loaf of his bread. While he possesses the inherent ability to heal himself with consumables, the soldier did not benefit from eating it. I conclude his items only affect himself.”

Twilight hummed and brought out a notepad in order to jot down a few meager notes. “That may not be true, Diamond. At least, not the whole truth. I don’t think his abilities are blanketed like that, but grouped into their own separate categories. For example, he makes tools to alter other materials, food to alter himself, and I think his alchemy alters both.”

“Interesting hypothesis. How did you get it?”

Twilight smiled, now in full lecture mode. She paged the same notepad and a printout sheet outlining chemical composition. “It says here that his potion is water-based. Simple water as a base isn’t common, but still viable. This still matches with the potion used against Lyra Heartstrings. It too was water-based.”

Diamond brought a hoof to his forehead and laughed. “Ha ha ha! I had completely forgotten about the unfortunate attack on Miss Heartstrings. It seems like it has been months, even though only nine days have passed. Yes, yes, I can see that now.”

“The Miner’s abilities operate on a highly unnatural and unusually strong reliance on uniformity. This predictability is not likely in magic or nature; the variables are simply too numerous and unpredictable. Yet he still managed to conjure blocks in perfect meter squares every time. Even the tools he makes are completely identical. It’s simply not natural. If one potion is capable of affecting himself, and another is capable of affecting others, I’m fairly certain his potions are not mutually exclusive.”

Twilight wrote herself a few more notes on her notepad before continuing. How could Spike not enjoy a good debate? “His second potion increased his healing factor. The first slowed Lyra’s vitals to coma levels. And if I am right, this one,” she nodded towards the dirty blue fluid, “decreases the buildup of lactic acid in the muscles in conjunction with an decrease in synaptic response time. It increases his physical and mental speed.

“What is amazing is that the effect is nearly instantaneous. It’s not possible for an alchemical potion to take effect with such speed, leaving me to believe that some type of sorcery is involved. It’s some type of hybrid magic combining the strengths of both alchemy and magic. Biomagic.” Twilight pranced in place. “Oh, first a lexicon, and now this! I should write a paper!”

Unlike his superior, Captain Barricade, Skylar was relatively quiet when he was not actively doing work, even if he was in the actively chatty mess hall. Why speak for the sake of speaking? It was not as if work would get done any faster if he kept breathing down everyone’s necks.

Speaking of the captain, she was currently finishing up with the Miner. Now that he could reasonably understand words, she had asked and he accepted to speak about the creatures concerning his homeland. He had recently received an alarming missive concerning one creature in particular, a monster that attacks using the tactic of mutually assured destruction.

Skylar folded the picture away into a manilla envelope. The good four or five dozen magi and soldiers of various ethnicities in the mess hall were all in animate conversation or kept to themselves. There was an unspoken divide among them; soldiers sat on the left, magi on the right. As much as active servicemen and the Council unicorns were encouraged to intermingle, it did not bother the officer. Some ponies were just more comfortable with the groups that they grew up and worked with.

Taking a moment, he listened in on some of their conversations, “Fuck that, I was happy until Lars rolled my ass out of bed. Nice dream, balls deep in mares all night, even before I went to sleep.”

“Lucky you. I woke up in a cold sweat. Bunkmate said I was moaning in my sleep.”

“But I don’t remember any of it!”

“My dreams were awful. Don’t remember what they were, but I knew I hated them.”

“Aye. My dreams do be unpleasant every time I sleep.”

“Ah’ve been hearin’ a lot o’ that goin’ around. Hemos is runnin’ himself ragged over ponies with bad dreams.”

Skylar tuned the chatting ponies out, but couldn’t help but smile for reasons unknown to him. Despite how worrisome nightmares may be, especially among trained soldiers in close proximity to Luna herself, that fact didn’t seem troublesome. He buried it in his mind for future reference.

A clerk sat down next to the officer and slid another manila envelope towards him. “The Council has prepared as per requested, sir. On your signal, they can send an emergency distress flare that can be seen all the way to Canterlot. It will drain a fair portion of them by necessity, but it will get through.”

“Very good.” Something tugged at him, some obscure compulsion that compelled him to speak. “I’ve updated the work rotation, especially those on night duty. Send this down the grapevine.”

Strange, he didn’t remember when he created the document that he removed from his folder. He didn’t even know the words that came from his mouth until they left. The clerk eyed the list, noting several names were currently in the mess hall, and most were those currently experiencing extremely traumatic nightmares.

“Sir...?”

“You are excused.”

“Yes sir.”

Skylar sighed. He had a feeling it was going to be a long few days.

Hexxus Incantus was looking through a report fresh off the press from Farlander Portal duty. Adjusting his glasses, he started reading. “‘The gemstone currently in place in the Farlander Portal, tentatively named “Farlander Eye,” produces a radically disharmoic resonance across several low bandwidth frequencies. The output is not known to be harmful, but is chaotic and unpredictable, with rapid oscillation in the lower bands. Energy output from the Farlander Eye reverberate within it’s containment nodule (one of twelve) inside the Farlander Portal. If all twelve nodules contained Farlander Eyes, a stable resonance could theoretically be achieved. What this process would do would be unknown, but is likely to result in a stable dimensional rupture in spacetime. Further research to provoke a reaction with the Farlander Portal have been discontinued until a more feasible and less potentially dangerous alternative has been produced.’ Well, that’s a relief.” At least somepony had the sense that opening portals to eldritch realms was not a good idea.

Hexxus’s nose smashed into a tent pole and his papers spilled to the ground. He rubbed his tender snout, biting back an obscenity or two. The unicorn bent down to pick up his papers, cringing at the inevitable creak of early onset arthritis, only to see a spry young mare holding it already.

“You’re the egghead that doesn’t stop talking, right? Or are you the teacher? It’s kinda hard to understand Twilight sometimes.” The mare before him had a coat of cyan coated with sweat from exertion. It was almost four in the afternoon and the logic of letting one getting themself worn out with much of the day remaining was lost on Hexxus. However, it would be if he did not already know the identity of the mare in question.

“Salutations, Rainbow Dash. Tales of your exploits have spread even to the Council.” Rainbow’s chest puffed at the compliment and he had trouble not staring. Cords of lean muscle coated in soft fur and gleaming sweat covered her body. Although he was twice her age, she was lithe and still pleasing to the eye. ‘Focus, Hexxus, you’re married.’

“Well, they had to eventually. It’s not as if the winner of the Best Young Fliers Competition wouldn’t be unknown for long.” She casually polished a hoof on her coat in an attempt to look modest, albeit failing gracefully when she brandished her wings to rid them of atmospheric dew and sweat runoff while she flipped her mane around her head to cool it off. A slight wind blew from the east, tossing her polychromatic hair. Hexxus could feel heat blush across his skin. Rainbow snapped herself out of her self worship and retracted her wings. “So you’re her teacher? The guy in charge.”

“Why, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Have any of your guys been messing with the weather? We’ve got a weather front coming in from Everfree Forest that’s not on the manifest.”

Just like Rainbow said, Hexxus saw the the mass of grey clouds coming in from over the canopy. It was moving slow enough to not take anypony by surprise, but he was surprised it was there at all. “It is not our doing, but I will check to see if anypony is operating some sort of unauthorized experiment.”

Rainbow Dash nodded in thanks and he quickly excused himself before the blush consumed the rest of his face. She, in a rare moment of quiet contemplation, looked at the clouds approaching from the west. No one noticed them until early this morning and she had spent most of the day trying to figure who had been gathering rain clouds and pushing them right at Ponyville.

Her hair still blew to the west, but the clouds were moving in the opposite direction. “Clouds moving to the east... and against the wind...”

Zecora’s hut was particularly dark, being wedged in a lightless depression in the middle of one of the world’s most dangerous forests. And that was during the day. Currently at night, whatever meager light that illuminated the forest floor was expunged and replaced with thousands of chittering insects and small game. While monsters did hunt and prowl the darker confines, most dared not approach the edge of the forest without extremely demanding circumstances.

Light poured through the windows, little daggers that cut through the oppressive cloak of night and shadows. Inside two mares were engaged in animated conversation. One had a coat of black and white stripes separated by the width of a razor, while the other was a dark charcoal gray mare with leathery wings and ice-blue eyes.

The hut was flush with earthy and herbal scents. Smudges of rosemary, sage, and, for some disturbing reason, belladonna hung from the rafters by loops of twine and string, all drying from the heat of the hearth and the kindling below a bubbling pewter cauldron filled with a viscous green slime.

Lightning Chaser’s eyes had already scanned the hut twice. She had already memorized the location of the half dozen windows, every smudge hanging above, and the lacquered wooden plaque on the wall giving Zecora an official “pat on the back” for her efforts in locating the Farlander Portal.

The guard opened her mouth, fighting to find the right words to say to her exotic companion. The pair were comfortably seated on indigo velvet cushions with golden tassel fringes. Each were enjoying a home brewed tea that was heavily laced with lemon and spices.

“Thank you for entertaining me tonight,” Lightning said quickly. The words of gratitude felt strange on her tongue.

Eyes narrowing, Zecora took notice of the insignificant but noticeable struggle to say something so simple. “Not used to manners, I see. Their need, I must agree.”

Lightning looked ready to his a retort, but bit her lower lip until it turned white before replying, “I’m not... good with others. If you can, I ask you to ignore any outbursts, as I’m one hundred percent sure I will act like a mule at some point.”

Ponyville’s pariah nodded in understanding. “You are not alone in your plight. I too was considered a blight.”

The soldier shook her head in half anger, half annoyance. “Pffft. I’ve heard a lot about this town and the indignation of its idiots. Because you’re from Zebrica? That’s what started that poison joke scare? I don’t know what’s up with the school here, teaching these ponies that anything new is dangerous and untrustworthy. Ha! Children.”

If Zecora’s eyes narrowed any more, they would be closed. Despite having just proclaimed she would do so, Zecora did not expect her to spout bile towards the town so quick. Instead of saying anything, she let Lightning stew in her loss of tact. Realizing that she had said something wrong, Lightning’s lips curved into a hard line and she took a generous gulp of tea before continuing. “I know a lot of soldiers like them.” Her voice lost the irritation and was now lined with calm. “A lot of others don’t expect me to be as good as I am, some because I’m only twenty four, others because I’m a mare. And I’m in Luna’s royal guard to boot.”

Her lips broadened to a sardonic smile. It looked painfully unnatural on her face, one suited to blank calm or scowling. “I’m often asked to track down criminals. I’m always better than them. I always get my target. Why can’t they see like I do? Why can’t they just see things that are right under their nose? It’s so obvious...”

Lightning trailed off. Although she was looking Zecora right in the eyes, her mind had momentarily wandered elsewhere. “The curse of brilliance has its price, a burn like fire or cold as ice.”

“It’s not my fault everpony’s minds work so slow and I have to hold their hooves so they can struggle to connect the dots. Everypony is always left in the dust behind me. My doctor once said I would be incapable of having normal relationships with ponies, that I am unable to properly empathize with ponies, but that’s a load of manure; I get along just fine with the princess and my captain.” Lightning took another gulp of tea, seemingly surprised she said so much to a near stranger.

“You feel like an outcast, a feeling that lasts. I too have known such hurt.”

Lightning smirked. “That last one didn’t rhyme.”

Zecora returned the smile. “Perhaps another time.”

“Smartass.”

The two chuckled softly over tea before Lightning spoke up once again. “Why did you come to this backwater town? Zebrica’s a long ways away from here.”

Zecora’s tea froze at her lips. Lightning had been waiting for some sort of tell, and that was it, but that was the only one. Her turquoise eyes met Lightning’s in a calm stare. “Why does every filly not wish to leave home? Not the refusal to roam.”

The answer, one of the few answers she had every heard to do so, confused Lightning. Zecora didn’t want to leave Zebrica?

‘I’ll file that away for later...’

But before even her impressive mind could contemplate the matter further, Zecora interrupted her with, “But I believe we should not waste. There is a matter needing haste?”

“Yes... I am conducting an investigation. I have a few questions for you about the Farlander. Do you believe you forgot anything during your time following the creature?”

Lightning smiled as Zecora’s face fell. The zebra blinked balefully, then in thought, tilting her head to the side. “I imagine it was not but my mind, causing memory to be blind. I thought it was nerves, the way fear preserves, but this is something more? My mind opened like a door?”

Lightning chewed a lip in thought. “I am just researching something. Describe what happened after you left my fight. Without the rhymes.”

Zecora had lifted the tea to her lips and stared at Lighting over the cup. Lighting only stared back expectantly, then impatience before gritting her teeth and grunting, “Please.”

“Such a thing I heard that night, more than a guard’s woeful plight. Some creature prowled the dark, and hid in the underground away from prying eyes. I knew not what such a beast wished, but for answers I fished. It was then I felt something most... disconcerting, a feeling unlike any other I had felt before.”

“Memory loss?”

“Cold.”

“You were close to a cave. Kinda hard to not be cold, especially with the backdraft and underground caves.”

Zecora shook her head. “Not like a freezing foal, but of a chilled soul. A creeping darkness in my heart that spread like Faceless Pony’s glare. I knew not what it was, but once it began, I knew no more.”

“Then how did you know to leave a trail of buttons? Or not be surprised once you told the guards?”

Zecora set her tea down on the table with a soft click. She closed her eyes, carefully choosing her words before speaking slowly. “I felt like staring through a mirror, knowing my path, but not choosing it. Such a path felt right, not a plight. My hooves were sure of the path they walked, their assurity I did not balk.”

“...Like a marionette with the illusion of free will.”

“Indeed.”

“A’right. Bad news is that repaired wall he did two days ago isn’t a repaired wall, it’s a giant fuck-all mass of solid wood. Good news is they’ve turned it into a table and asked him to try not to get thrown through the wall again.” The Miner tried not to look sheepish as Jim Beam gave his report to Ambrosia. His recent repair of the house that Barricade smashed him through, although achieved several days quicker than a normal repair job, still had the unfortunate side effect of sealing it with cubic squares of wood rather than the flat planks.

“Alright, I think that won’t be a problem. What about you, big boy?” Ambrosia purred. The Miner, who had been sitting on a bench next to a concrete house foundation in Ponyville proper, inched away from her smoldering gaze. The two Night Guards nearby sniggered.

The sun had graced the early morning sky, evaporating the slight dew that clung to plants and the more dank alleys. At the crack of dawn, Ambrosia approached the military to request use of the Miner. Her appeal was provisionally granted, as long as he was guarded at all times.

“Say, why are you blokes always hanging around this chap?” Crafty Crate asked the two guards.

“So he don’t get in no trouble. An’ tah see if he’s gettin’ ‘long with the local yolkals.” The soldier’s strange drawl caused Crafty to crunch his brow in confusion as he pieced together the butchered language. The guard snorted. “Yer not the firs’ tah have no idea what I be sayin’.”

Much to the guard’s, the construction ponies’, and the Miner’s relief, the ponies in town had warmed up to his presence. The Cakes had offered him a few slices of jellied fruit snacks earlier that morning, and several of the fillies and colts danced around his feet whenever he moved from one place to another. The concept that he didn’t wish to talk seemed lost on them, but he and the children seemed perfectly content to bask in each other’s delight. The increased attention seemed to make him happy as he occasionally conjured and destroyed, much to the shock and awe of their prepubescent minds.

Mothers and fathers wouldn’t dare let their children anywhere near Ambrosia’s construction zones for their own safety, so he was now free of the attention. Rather than having a mandatory hard hat, he wore a ridiculously lumpy-looking helmet shaped to perfectly fit his head. From what Ambrosia could discern, it was made out of some tough gemstone. Diamond, if she remembered correctly.

Their current job was to build a house for a couple moving in from out of town, one big enough for their three fillies to have plenty of room to run around. Ambrosia had already planned out the measurements for the house, foundation, front yard, and backyard. Work was going well, especially with the Miner’s powers cutting down the time to lay concrete from two days to ten minutes.

Now their circular saw’s motor overheated and they couldn’t start cutting lumber until a new one was pulled from storage, only the lumberyard was on the other side of town and a brisk twenty minute canter.

“If only you could cut wood...” Ambrosia mumbled. Not even toying with the idea of snogging him in a corner alleviated her irritation. The only thing they needed was the saw to finish cutting 2x4 wood planks into manageable sizes. “We still got enough for a general framework?”

“Yeah, at least enough to keep us at it for a few days. Given he ain’t too good with flat boards,” Jim Beam jerked his head to the Miner, who had taken a keen interest in the circular saw, “havin’ him do the job for us ain’t a good idea. Hey! It’s broken!”

The Miner, in his bottomless curiosity, had shifted and inspected the broken saw. He put a finger to the circular blade and gave it a flick, sending the blade spinning rapidly, but not even close to the speed needed to cut wood. Ambrosia, however, saw the gears turning in his eyes.

He put his hands on the circular saw’s supports and heaved. It was, however, still firmly attached to the steel supports.

Jim Beam was about to say something, but Ambrosia overrode him with a wave of her hoof. She was curious about his motives. It wasn’t as if they could use the saw anyway in its current state. The Miner tensed a little as she cantered to the saw table, but relaxed as she only showed him how to detach the mechanism from the rigid supports.

He conjured his workbench and set the heavy saw mechanism in the middle He stood back, eyeing the mechanism thoughtfully.

“He’s trying to think how to build one...” Crafty Crate said.

The Miner conjured the workbench Ambrosia had come to know well. He set it on top of the central grid and walked to a nearby pile of wood planks she had had reserved for the house. Picking up a pair, he placed them lengthwise next to the broken saw head along with a heavy duty extension cord. A magi that had been relatively quiet all day had got to his hooves and walked to the workbench, removing a pen and paper along the way. Curiously, he began sketching his strange symbols and scripts that dotted the workbench.

The Miner brought both fists down upon the hodgepodge with one echoing thud. The quartet of items merged into a mass of gray, black, and brown. Just like his other lightning-quick transformation, this one was as equally fast. Whatever powers granted to the Miner, energy transferring, displacing, or anywhere in between, the process halted as quickly as it started.

The miner heaved the contraption off of his workbench, grunting and gasping quietly. What had once been a collection of parts had warped and transformed itself into a strange, if recognizable, saw table. Despite one of the components being the extension cord, Ambrosia did not see a single port or wire indicating any recognizable type of power.

“Great; can you fix my AC?”

“That is perfect.”

Princess Cadance and Celestia stood waiting next to one of the royal scribes, waiting patiently as his pencil made a few final strokes across the parchment. The scribe’s study was a little too hot and humid for Cadance’s liking, but it was a nice refresher from the chill that occasionally permeated the castle. The hearths mostly kept the cold at bay, but they were not enough to properly heat an entire castle, even if the noon sun warmed earth and sun alike.

The room, cramped and smelling of dusty scrolls, was fit for royalty’s current desires. The scribe flipped the parchment around and slid it across his oak desk. “How is that, Highness?”

Cadance lifted the parchment to her snout. Scrawled across it in careful black, brown, and green pencil strokes was a single entity, a bipedal creature with eyes made of pure white light. “Exactly as I remembered.”

Celestia took the drawing from her niece, examining it for her own eyes. It looked remarkably like descriptions of the Miner. The only real noticeably difference being, of course, the glowing white eyes Cadance had so adamantly described.

“I must keep this to myself?” the scribe questioned.

“Indeed.” Celestia’s tone ordered no room for argument or wiggle room.

The scribe nodded. “I won’t make any other copies for my personal record then. Feel free to use my office for as long a necessary.” And with that, the scribe left with the door’s opening and shutting squeak.

“They certainly look alike,” Cadance said. Unrolling a scroll sent by one of the Council of Magic’s ranking members, a different drawing showing a creature identical save for a pair of blue eyes stared back at her. “Do you think they are related?”

“That is Captain Barricade’s duty to discover. Whatever this creature may be, the Miner holds all the available keys.” Celestia rolled the scroll up and stashed it away. “And you are certain this creature said nothing to you?”

“I’m sure of it, auntie. I know Luna said that it spoke to her in the Miner’s mind, but it said nothing to me. It just... stared.” Cadance’s voice trailed off. Her eyes wandered to the far corner where the office hearth’s light had trouble touching. No glowing eyes examined her from the darkness. “I’m certain it was real.”

“I don’t think it is a coincidence you met this creature immediately after the attack, either. We may have just obtained the face of an enemy.”

“But nothing it is doing is making sense!” Cadance proclaimed.

“Perhaps the Miner knows more than he is not telling... or the Farlander.” Celestia’s eyes fell on the parchment on the scribe’s desk. It was a report from the Immigration Office. A wing of griffons, twenty four in all, were now within Equestrian borders. The things she did to keep the peace and obtain order. It would help to bring in a few fresh eyes anyway. Perhaps the oncoming griffons might be able to discover something they had overlooked. “I am... uneasy. Recent events are stacking against my subjects. I can only pray to the powers that be that we may discover a way to outstep this... Herobrine.”

If there were two things that made Doctor Hemos grumpy, it was complaining and extra work. Unfortunately, the latter often caused the former for the army doctor, even if it was himself complaining and not a whiny patient. Blood centrifuges whirled and mixed chemicals under his ever-watchful eye. The Miner’s blood to be precise. Given that studying the creature was surreptitiously added to his workload after the last head of departments meeting, his foul mood had caused what few nurses he possessed to avoid him like the plague whenever possible.

The first centrifuge beeped and ceased its rotation. Enveloping it in his magic, he removed the vials one by one, sliding a sticker on each one for future identification purposes.

“Doctor?” a timid voice chimed from behind the curtained room. His impromptu lab was yet another source of irritation; he had been given less than half of his requested materials. It wasn’t as if they had all the power of the Equestrian military and a civilian train to give him the necessary resources, instead of a small, cramped room!

“What!?”

The nurse shied away from his angry gaze. Still in a bad mood, it seemed. The mare timidly offered a manilla folder to him. “The results of the Miner’s blood work and cultures are in.”

“About time.” Hemos jerked the envelope away from her as his horn became alight with power.

“There’s something strange about it. I – ”

“Quiet.”

Hemos’ harsh command silenced her, but she waited patiently for him to finish his scan of the Miner’s physical exams. He never liked having to stay with the stallion; nopony did, as Hemos’ perpetually poor bedside manner made him one of the base’s least favorite ponies.

So it was strange when his disgruntled nature slowly lifted from his face only to be replaced by confusion and surprise. “That’s not possible...”

“I – ” Hemos held up a hoof to silence her. As his eyes progressed further and further down each page, they became wider and more bewildered with each passing moment.

Once done looking through the report, he handed it off to her and said, “Check it again.”

Keeping up with his trait of interrupting the nurse, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be silenced by the doctor once again. “Do you even know what this implies? How much danger we are all in if this is due to what I suspect?”

“What do you suspect?”

“That we may be in more danger than we realized. Check it again, and speak of this to absolutely nopony. I grant you whatever authority you need to get him back here for more testing.”

The sun had almost set on Ponyville proper. Rarity wasn’t sure why, but there was an almost physical tension in the air, some obscure force that pressed upon the back of everypony’s mind. Doors had closed early today, shop overhangs retracted. The likely culprit behind their skittishness was the wave of cumulous overhead. The clouds that Rainbow Dash had investigated yesterday had not revealed an architect. Even though it was almost dusk, both horizons were blocked under an oppressive wave of clouds, and there wasn’t enough time to organize an ad hoc relief effort to solve such a large-scale storm.

Rarity quickly cantered to her shop, two bolts of cloth tucked safely away in her bag. Normally cloth bolts were several yards long, but her current purchases were very small bolts made with specialty cotton, both gilded and sewn with gold.

“Oh, dear,” Rarity moaned. The skies waved and writhed angrily. Bloated as they may be, Rarity had not yet felt a single drop of moisture from the heavens. “Thank Celestia for good luck.” Nervously, she checked the straps on her bags. They were as secure as the last four times she had examined them on her trip back to Carousel Boutique, but the threat of moisture damage did not repeal the danger in her head.

Coming upon her familiar house, the door opened with a flash and closed as the last hair of her perfectly groomed tail entered safely. Using her dexterous skill gained over many long years of practice, her bag clasps unlocked and every knook and cranny inside flew out and circled her. Every facet of Carousel Boutique had long been memorized. Each and every piece, from the bolts of cloth, to the bag of extra bits, to the spare needle and thread neatly organized in several pockets all arranged themselves perfectly in their respectful places.

The mare trotted to the closest Boutique window. A few drops of water splattered against the window. Rarity sighed in relief. “I made it just in time.” For a moment it looked like the bloated clouds would pass right over Ponyville to the neighboring hamlets. That still did not resolve the problem that she had had yet to plan for an extended Ponyville deluge, especially after they had finished receiving such a downpour only days earlier.

“So, what to do...” As much as she liked having a little more time to herself, rain never helped her focus on her work. She required pressure, a friendly but pressing mood to help her concentrate on what needed to be done. Rain was... calming, and calm was the opposite of what she needed.

“Well, I do have some books that need to be returned shortly.” And she didn’t want Twilight getting on her case for returning a book late. Rarity shuddered. “Yes, finishing up would be the wisest option.”

Rarity opened the doors to the upper levels. Like most ponies, she lived above her place of work. The two spare bedrooms, one more of a large closet than a bedroom, were for guests whenever she had them, although the larger of the two had become a semi-permanent room for Sweetie Belle, as long as she helped with household chores. Ever since she was young, the little filly had always looked up to her big sister with wide-eyed adoration and wonder. Pearl and Magnum, the somewhat estranged parents of Rarity, were always curious as to why the little filly would go to her sister rather than spending time with her adventurous parents.

Speaking of, was that her singing?

♫“So simple a life in this brittle shell.”♪

Strange; Sweetie was usually in bed by now. Unlike her two more active friends, Sweetie slept like the dead from sunrise to sunset. Given the oncoming storm, Rarity had expected her to already be asleep.

♫“So small and blind, so hard to find...”♪

Rarity rolled her eyes. She had secretly made a wager with herself that Sweetie would choose an emo-gothic route over more conventional way of rebelling as she matured. It just so happened that her stage came a little earlier than expected, apparently. Then again, Sweetie Belle had a very good line of sight to see her when she came, something that was easily denied with the coming dark skies. Perhaps Sweetie had been rehearsing for quite some time, and Rarity never noticed it.

Rarity quietly climbed the stairs, making sure to skip the squeaky step halfway up the stairs. As much as she did not care for such music, she was at least curious about what she had written in terms of lyrics.

♫“What came to my aid as the heavens fell? My hopes and dreams? So frail they seem.”♪

She caught herself rolling her eyes again and paused. Whenever Sweetie sang, it was usually upbeat and bombastic, not the slow, somber mood she was currently invoking. It took time to rehearse, yet she was displaying such a depressed mood?

Suspicions raised, Rarity quietly snuck forward. Her hooves were muffled as the rain crescendoed against her house into a full-fledged downpour. Lightning flashed across the rain-splattered windows, throwing shadows like some great beast thrashing against the darkness.

♫“I only wish to make me dreams come true. Someday my soul will come to see you through...”♪

Having reached the top of the stairs, Rarity could hear Sweetie’s voice coming from behind her closed door. Their rooms were placed right next to each other, so Rarity always made a note to be downstairs whenever Applebloom and Scootaloo were over, as the walls were far too thin to block out their noise.

She waited for Sweetie to continue her song, but the filly had halted. Could she have possibly heard her? That wasn’t possible. Rarity knew where all the squeaky floorboards were and she was certain she missed every one of them. She had long practiced the art of waking up before her parents and sneaking around as a filly in order to watch TV. Those skills hadn’t left her, so she was sure she didn’t make any noise.

“Hello, Rarity.” To emphasize her words, another flash of lightning lit up the hallway via the window.

SIghing, Rarity pushed open the door. There was an itching right by her withers, warning her not to open the door. Despite it being her sister’s voice, some instinct was warning her away. Ignoring the call, she walked right in.

The lights were off. Another flash of lightning illuminated the room. Rarity spotted Sweetie sitting by the window, staring out of it with a blank expression on her face.

“Sweetie Belle?” Rarity called cautiously.

Sweetie turned her head mechanically toward Rarity. Taking a deep breath, Sweetie rose straight and tall, something Sweetie never did. “Not quite. We need to talk.”

Fluttershy couldn’t help but let her eyes drift to the window. The rain wasn’t coming down too hard, but enough to keep both her and her charges inside. Her cottage was nestled partly underground, so that did help muffle the sound of thunder and pounding rain. Thunderheads projected lightning like dripping yolk from a cracked egg.

“Why did it have to be a supercell?” Fluttershy moaned.

Rainbow Dash had talked about her job often enough that Fluttershy had become an uncertified expert on weather phenomenon. Given Rainbow always asked her to participate in weather events, it wasn’t too hard to pick up on things.

“Oh, I wish she was here right now.” She only wanted a little companionship, but blushed as the words left her mouth. Not only was it getting late, but having Rainbow alone with her at her house caused her mind to wander in less reputable directions.

Angel poked her in the hindquarters, snapping her out of whatever inappropriate thoughts that clouded her mind. “What is it, Angel?”

The bunny pointed at a family of ferrets cowering under a chair. Despite them having a perfectly acceptable wooden waren in the adjacent room, they looked on in fear at Fluttershy’s front door.

Flash!

Boom!

“Eep!”

Fluttershy flinched as the sonic boom crashed almost above her house. That was a close one. Too close. Fluttershy hoped Rainbow could stop the storm tomorrow, and find out what group of ponies would do something so mean to the quiet town.

Recovering from the sound of thunder, Fluttershy rose and walked to the family. Collapsing to her knees, she leaned forward and nuzzled the group. “There, there, no need to be afraid. It’s just a storm, as loud and scary as it might seem. It can’t hurt us.” It seemed little comfort to the trembling and scared ferrets.

Without warning, the front door opened with a thunderous bang. A small, furry form flew to the wall; Angel had climbed onto a cabinet, lept to the doorknob, and opened the door before being blown back by the howling wind.

In scampered a little woodland squirrel, shaking and trembling from cold and rain. The ferrets had since vanished after Angel unceremoniously opened the door and startled both them and Fluttershy.

Shaking off her knee jerk fear, Fluttershy put her shoulder into the door and closed it with a grunt of effort. She was not the most well built of ponies, but chasing and wrestling with frightened animals had packed a little more muscle on her body over the years.

“Oh dear, let’s get you dried off.” The rodent seemed extremely hesitant and frightened of its new environment, but upon seeing Fluttershy approach with a plush, dry towel, eagerly accepted the offering of drying off after such conditions.

“Thank you for letting him in in, Angel Bunny.” Angel squeaked angrily and rose from the heap he collapsed in. Fluttershy knew he was rather proud for such a small animal, and let him rise under his own power rather than offer to help him. It would only anger the rabbit, and she had more pressing matters to take care of. “Why were you out in such dreadful weather? Surely you have a home? You do have a home, right? If not, I can let you stay in my house until you get back on your feet.”

The rodent started chittering rapidly to both her and Angel, ignoring the rigorous toweling it was receiving.

“...What is coming...? White Eyes!?”

Ask anypony alive, and they would usually find something positive relating to the night to talk about. After Princess Luna’s return, there was a resurgence of focus on the night. It was not uncommon to see the occasional pair of lovers taking a moonlit stroll, basking under heaven’s light.

Ponyville was bathed in blues and whites as the last hues of red disappeared over the eastern horizon. At least, they would have been if the skies were not hidden behind a blanket of angry black and gray clouds. They had only recently been emptying their payload across the town. Everything had been under the careful eye of the creature watching from the forest.

Whether they called him Era’doth or Herobrine, it no longer mattered. The chains binding him with light and magic still rattled an ever present reminder of the seal on his body. Nothing that the ponies thought or did would change that, but maybe after tonight, after such a long time trapped in darkness, watching and waiting in the Overworld, he would finally have a chance to be free.

Freedom. Bound by flesh and bone, butchered and dismembered with his powers stripped from him. How could creatures such as those before him live like this, life in such hollow shells? It was a pain that cut deeper than any blade.

With a tilt of his head, the forest behind him was suddenly flush with the sound of shuffling, hissing, and clanking monsters. The three-headed creature hovered behind him protectively, but in an act that defied his usually stoic nature, his arm shot forward, pointing towards the southern edge of town. The massive creature hissed and moved towards the tents of the Equestrian royal garrison.

Ponyville was momentarily ignored until on a whim, Herobrine turned his gaze on the small hamlet. One would almost assume the hamlet would be safe from the creature and the legion of creatures in his wake.

For a moment, everything was silent. Mists curled at the legion’s heels. There was only one warning of the oncoming doom.

In rolled a thick cloud of black fog over Ponyville.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Material Defender, Cor Thunder, arachnidsGrip, Hyperbole

Chapter 34: Ballad of the Broken King

Chapter 34: Ballad of the Broken King

Sweetie Belle’s room held the same dry musk that clung to the less clean portions of Carousel Boutique. Intense OCD concerning particular topics, especially cleanliness, was one of the side effects of running a textile business. Bolts of cloth had to be kept immaculate and free of any crease. Rarity always counted on Sweetie being able to clean up after herself. Apparently she neglected to do so after the past two weeks of excitement.

“About what, Sweetie?”

Sweetie sat on her haunches. Being so small, she was hardly a force of presence to contend with, but her light green eyes had frozen over. The filly was normally asleep at this hour. Even if she wasn’t, she’d be bouncing off the walls until Rarity managed to discover some manner of exhausting her bottomless and remarkable well of energy. Now, however, she was cold, contained, and most disconcerting of all, not talking like her beloved little sister.

The crusader tilted her head to the side as a smile curved across her lips. “I suppose I should dispel such a predisposition.” Certainly not how Sweetie spoke. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Brimstone.”

Rarity’s magic enveloped her horn in a soft light. With a light click, the door behind her closed, leaving the filly and mare together alone. The latter scrutinized the former, the same ghost of a smile stuck to her lips. “So you are the one who rescued dear Fluttershy.”

“Indeed. Although I am curious as to how you deduced that fact.” Lightning flashed once again, throwing more shadows across Sweetie’s room. Her bedsheet was crumped. So she had slept in it recently. Curious...

“I didn’t.” Sweetie, or Brimstone, blinked in surprise. “I know it now, however.”

Rarity stepped further into the bedroom. Brimstone’s eyes never left her as she walked to the little bed tucked against the wall. An aged and unremarkable nightstand was filled with little baubles the filly had collected over the years, but Rarity paid none of them any mind. A lamp occupied the center of the nightstand and the room was bathed in a dim glow after she tugged on the string. She put a hoof on the bedsheet. It was still warm to the touch.

“What have you done to my sister?”

Brimstone nickered softly. Rather than the adorable pout that normally graced her face, she just snorted in irritation. “Precious little. I merely borrow her whilst she slumbers. Rest assured, she is well, and asleep. She is not even aware of this conversation.”

“So that leaves the question: what, pray tell, do you wish to talk about, Brimstone?”

Rarity sat down next to the nightstand. The light danced across her curls and perfectly groomed coat. Brimstone moved to the opposite end of the room and sat back down. “Plenty. I have avoided this conversation for as long as necessary, but the time has finally come where such procrastination would prove counterproductive. Era’doth is coming, this time for you and your friends.”

“Ah,” Rarity interrupted with a raised hoof. “I am afraid another answer must come first, dearie. Considering you have violated my home, hold my sweet sister in your grasp, and now revealed a threat on my life...” Rarity’s voice, formerly soft and welcoming, cooled significantly. Her face, a mask of calm serenity, rippled with the briefest of emotion, a crack in her facade that revealed the tempestuous anger within. “Why should I trust you in the slightest?”

Brimstone tilted her head. Opening her mouth to respond, she hesitated for the barest of fraction before providing an answer. “It is me with whom you quarrel? Me, whom rescued your ally? Me, whom gave what Princess Luna needs to prevent unnecessary collateral damage? Me, whom revealed to you my existence as a sign of good faith as Celestia attempts to discover the secrets of the Nether?”

Rarity blinked, surprised before she could stop herself. “Hmmm...” Her eyes flickered towards Sweetie’s bed once again. Something about what the spirit said was... strange, something that nagged at the back of her skull. She filed that away for later. “So I am supposed to trust an unknown benefactor whom skulks in the shadows? If you are as benevolent as you claim, Brimstone, then why haven’t you come forward sooner? Why not seek asylum and aid from Princess Luna and Princess Celestia?”

Rarity’s heart leapt into her throat. That was it. That was what was so strange. Smirking inwardly, she waited for Brimstone’s reply. The filly, however, looked angry, almost dour, as she snarled her response, “It would mean my death.”

“Come now; there is no need for melodrama.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” The sudden burst of anger was subdued, but still there, an edge hidden behind the pretty words and promises.

“No, far from it. You are intelligent, careful, and meticulous. However, you are angry, bullheaded, and suffer from quite the superiority complex.”

‘So what would happen if Twilight and Rainbow managed to bear a child,’ Rarity thought to herself. For a moment, her thoughts drifted towards the harlequin romance novels she loved to peruse. The image of the unicorn and pegasus and a tender embrace with lips inches from each others was forcibly removed removed from her thoughts and buried in a deep, dark hole. More pressing matters were at hoof.

“So you wish for me to listen to your words. Pray tell, why should I acquiesce? Give and take, dearie. If you want my trust, I need yours.” Brimstone smirked. The previous anger was gone. She seemed... pleased? Yes, pleased. Of all things, pleased. Was she actually enjoying this?

“Sir or madam?” The question seemed to throw Brimstone off guard once again. Clarifying, Rarity added, “What title do you have?”

Even before she finished speaking, Rarity realized it was the wrong thing to say. Brimstone shook her head, a little more vigorously than what was needed. “I bear no title other than the name I have chosen for myself.” Curious... “I am Brimstone, no more. As for the matter of trust... what did you have in mind? I’ve heard nothing but good things about you since I have “skulked about.” Surely you must have some sort of proposition for this impasse?”

The kindness, the subservience, the flattery. It was all very well done, the mark of a skilled manipulator. “Tell me a little about yourself.”

Brimstone turned her head away to think for a moment. The rain hammered the Boutique relentlessly, the constant patter of droplets inducing a deep, dull hum throughout the empty halls. There were several lights left on inside and streetlights illuminating the formerly bustling streets before the downpour began. Lightning flashed intermittently, but despite everything, if felt darker than it was.

That didn’t change the fact that Brimstone was straying further from what she wanted to tell her, Rarity noted. It either didn’t matter as much as Brimstone insisted, or gaining her trust truly was as important as Rarity demanded. Rarity contemplated the latter for a moment. Mutual trust was always beneficial, after all, but something tickled the back of her head, warning her to shy away from the spirit. Something just didn’t feel right. Brimstone either absolutely needed her trust, or... something. Something she was missing.

Deciding to motivate the conversation forward, Rarity began first. “Very well. As the host, I shall go first.” Brimstone tilted her head; she did not expect that. “My name is Rarity, firstborn filly to dame Cookie and sire Hondo. I have been living in this quaint little town on my own for the past three years. So what does Mister Brimstone want with an unremarkable mare like myself?”

Rarity’s goal was to catch Brimstone off guard. If she or he or it was hiding something, perhaps a barrage of information might through her off. After a brief moment, the gesture was returned in kind. “The princesses are under watch. I cannot approach them, just as I am taking a grave risk approaching you. Era’doth’s possesses a mortal form, but does not need eyes to see. All he would need to do is see my host, and he would know I am here. I can hide, but I cannot run from him.”

Brimstone sighed, shaking her head. Sweetie’s mulberry hair wiped back and forth slightly. Sweetie wore her emotions on her sleeve, but Brimstone was practiced at keeping her face blank. Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she continued. “I am here to alert you to the threat in full. Time and... recent events,” What was that emotion? Fear? Ecstasy? “...have forced me to meet with a Bearer face to face.”

“Not to interrupt, but you are not. You wear the body of my sister, somepony I happen to love very dearly.” Rarity made certain that aspect more than any other was at the forefront of her mind. Sweetie. Rarity didn’t care what happened to her, just as long as Sweetie was alright. Point for point, Rarity fought to keep her face as smooth as Brimstone’s, fighting to keeping the clawing panic and dread from escaping the pit in her stomach where it had taken root and festered.

Rarity felt a horrible flash of panic rise. She twitched, moving away from Brimstone by the barest fraction, something not missed by the spirit. Rarity didn’t take the time to observe her; a far more horrible thought occurred to the seamstress. She had already played an important card: Sweetie was far too valuable to her to lose. If Brimstone tried to force her hoof, she had the perfect bargaining chip.

Sweetie herself.

Rarity had missed whatever thoughts danced across Brimstone’s face. Too late, and she had already started to answer the unspoken question. “I would have, of course, used your own body to speak with you. You have the greatest rampour with the bipedal construct out of all the Bearers.”

That was an odd choice of words. “Construct?”

“Never you mind. That is not important as of yet,” Brimstone edified quickly. “On the matter of your wayward kin, I would have done my best to have avoided using her, but I cannot. Not with Era’doth as an enemy. Not him.”

Now that was anger. The briefest curl of the lips, the tightening of the jaw. That was contempt for sure, an emotion she had seen from Blueblood enough to last her a lifetime. “How so?”

“I told you,” she replied irritably. “Era’doth’s vision is vast. He searches for the Bearers when his gaze is not drawn elsewhere. He intends to kill you, and if he sees you, and you are my host, he sees me. Neither you nor I can afford him knowing I am near. If he knew you were receiving my help, all would be lost. I come to deliver this final piece of information: if the Element Bearers fall, there is no weapon potent enough to cease the torments that will befall your people.”

“So it is cowardice that compels you,” Rarity stated matter-of-factly. There was more than just anger there. Much more. Anger was a paralytic that blinded and made ponies sloppy. This was personal. Something more compelled Brimstone. If only she could keep him off balance, press the right buttons...

“Pragmatism, my dear. I have no body which to war with a god.” Her jaw had tightened. Her lips thinned into a hard line. Yes, that was the right button. Not wanting to pull out her triumph card just yet, she pressed her advantage.

“And how did that happen?” Rarity curled her dainty forelegs across each other and made herself as comfortable as she could. Lighting and thunder continued to herald the constant beat of rain.

“I never possessed one to begin with.”

Rarity smiled triumphantly. “Now that is a lie.” Rarity had no idea if it was or wasn’t. Anything to throw her off the game of cat and mouse.

Sweetie smiled pleasantly. It wasn’t the same absurd, uncontainable excitement that could exhaust a toddler hyped up on caffeine. This felt... predatory. “Ahhhhh... There is that theatricality I had been anticipating.”

“It is not proper form to insult a lady.”

“It is not wise to insult the honor of one trying to save your life.”

“While I admit your patience with this pitiable mare is admirable, I must say I am not quite satisfied with your answer.” Rarity slowly leaned in close until their noses were touching. Sweetie’s body temperature was almost sweltering compared to her own. Her nose and limbs felt cold. The instinct of self preservation had been commanding her to run, and blood left her limbs to protect herself. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Brimstone did not answer at first, instead taking the moment to look out the window. At her angle, she could see little else other than the angry, black skies. Princess Luna’s beautiful night was hidden behind the raging storm.

“You can trust I hate him more than I hate you.”

Voice was calm, tone was even, breathing was slow... yet no matter how much Rarity’s mind tried to find a voice stating the antithesis, she believed her. Rage. Black, bottomless rage, but controlled rage. Those hidden flashes of fury were glances at the inner inferno that burned within. Burning, feeding, raging. Devouring anything and everything that Brimstone fed into the flames.

Anger was a weakness, but Brimstone had forged it into a weapon, an insatiable drive to finish her goal.

“What did he do to you?”

Rarity wasn’t sure Brimstone would answer before she gave the curt reply, “He took the only thing I ever cared about.”

“And for that you hate him enough to do all of this?”

“Of course,” she replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh...

Oh....

“I am sorry for my thoughtlessness, Brimstone,” Rarity tried to recover quickly. “I didn’t know. I am sorry for your loss.” No, not loss. Losses. Despite being capable of at least bluffing such information, she had yet to even mention there were others helping in her quest to vanquish this foe.

Brimstone was alone.

Smoky flames burned bright behind the childish eyes, but now it made so much more sense. The boiling cisterns of vengeance only existed to mask the dark ocean of despair. Purpose hardened through pain, and no pain cut deeper than loss.

“I...” Rarity wasn’t sure she wanted to ask now, but she needed to know, even if it poured salt on the wound. “He is why you despise Princess Celestia, is it not?”

Brimstone’s head shot up, her mulberry curls dancing in another flash of lightning. The air was immediately cut by a thunderclap, shaking the house and its contents. Rain continued to pour. She heard gurgling and popping downstairs, a sound as unfamiliar as it was irrelevant to the current situation.

The seamstress pressed whatever precious lead she had. “You have yet to meet with Princess Celestia, but not Princess Luna. Normally I would expect this to be pragmaticism, as she is much closer, but you refuse to give her the proper honorific. Princess Celestia.”

“My distaste,” Brimstone spat the word as if were a curse, “for the eldest child stems not from my own history, but from hers. For a millennia the child of the stars slumbered and wept while all she could do was gaze upon the gem she had lost and lament. Princess Celestia abandoned her kin to the stars like some illegitimate bastard rather than cure her heart of stone, as a proper sister would. I hate her for abandoning family! You, me, or anyone else; that is a sin that should never be forgiven!”

Brimstone finished her rant with a hiss, panting as she expelled the last breath in her tiny lungs. Rarity didn’t even know how the filly was suddenly pressed to her breast until she felt her own hoof soothingly draw circles in the small of Sweetie’s back. Brimstone attempted to leave the embrace, but Rarity tightened her grip and held fast; it was the advantage of being older and stronger than her baby sister.

“I almost lost my sister, before she even knew she had one. Before I even knew I had one.” Brimstone stopped struggling. Whether she accepted the futility or was interested in hearing what she had to say, Rarity did not know. “I was quite the hellion in my youth. I was smaller and weaker, I didn’t have my cutiemark, and I certainly lacked the aptitude for all things I now have in such skill today. I routinely started fights with those less reputable than myself, and giving that my parents traveled so much, sometimes without me... winning fights against others, smaller or bigger than myself, was one of the few things that made me feel better about myself. Finally, something I did on my own! Some accomplishment that I could remember, even if my parents were never there when I needed them...”

Her vision blurred and her face felt flush with heat and moisture. Forcing down a hitch in her throat, she continued holding a still Brimstone to her chest, stroking the small of her back with practiced ease earned from soothing many filly nightmares away. “I hid my injuries from my parents. One of my first times stitching cloth together stemmed directly from interest in closing a particularly nasty gash I had acquired during one of my more violent brawls. I knew they would stop me if I told them, stop one of the few things I was becoming good at.

“Then I heard the news, the sweet, sweet news. My mother was with child. I...” Rarity drifted off for a moment, trying to ascertain what words would adequately convey what she wished to say. “There was no real sensation like it, or at least none my prepubescent mind had a means to explain. I was going to become an older sister. Big sister... What was I supposed to do? Laugh? Cry? Rejoice? My parents were far from neglectful; they made sure I went to a proper school and took care of me... but they were never there when I needed them most.

“It was then, right there on the carpeted floor of my room nursing a bloody lip, I decided to make another choice of my own. My parents weren’t always there when I needed them due to their endless wanderlust. I swore on that day I would be there for my sister-to-be. No matter what, I would be there for her first steps, her first words, her first fall, her first tears. I would be the best sister I could ever be. I gave up my endless rebellion in order to ensure she had somepony to look after her no matter what. I... I wanted her foalhood to be happy.”

The heavens concluded Rarity’s recital with a loud thunderclap that shook the very house to its foundations. Seeing as the mare was finally through with her tale, Brimstone pulled her smaller body out of Rarity’s clutches.

“Do you expect some kind of pathos from me, Rarity?” she said quietly.

“I expect,” the fashionista replied slowly, “you to remember why you are doing all of this.”

“I do not wish to repeat myself.”

“Well, Brimstone, it is a habit from which you should partake with increased frequency.” Rarity could not stop herself from taking on her usual admonishing tone reserved for an especially misbehaving Sweetie Belle. “Alone, unprotected, facing a monster far greater than yourself. You are as alone as the Miner.”

Brimstone shook her head angrily, Sweetie’s light lavender locks swishing wildly to and fro. “I do not fear for myself.”

“Precisely my point, dearie.” Rarity swept her hooves in a great arc. “After all of this, conflict stemming from both sides, there is one, uniform fact governing your actions: you do not care what happens to you. You are a small, angry spirit on a collision course with your own mortality. Not once have you wished to ally yourself with others, rebuilding upon whatever losses you have suffered through.

“Pain. All you know and have dealt so far has been pain. You come to me, explaining that I must protect myself and my friends above all else. This isn’t about getting back what was lost, this is about getting even. There is only one ending for you, and you embrace it with the wholehearted grace of a brick: your death. You do not wish to survive this ordeal! You do not care what happens to you or anypony else! All that matters is your revenge!”

“What would you have me do!”

The king’s untempered roar sliced through Rarity’s angry tirade. She was to her hooves, defensively crouched against the words that cut deeper than any dagger. Brimstone was seething. Gone was the cold and darkness, and the removed scab released the horrible rage buried in shadows and a heart iced over.

“There I stood atop the steps and saw nothing but ashes! My family, dead. My kingdom, in ruins. There he stood above it all. He smiled as he turned to me. The harvest god, creator and giver of all life, reveling in the burned husk of my fallen kingdom.” Brimstone stood as tall as she could. With Sweetie’s light, willowy frame, it was far from impressive, but the coals of revenge burning brought made Rarity take a hesitant step back.

“I will ensure—with every fiber of my being!—that he pays for those sins... Even at the cost of my life...”

The child-king’s chest heaved as her rage made her breath come out in stuttering gasps. The tipping point passed, and Brimstone sat back down with as much dignity as she could muster after her outburst. Rarity allowed the silence to stretch further in order to give her a reprieve.

“I was a king.” Rarity cocked her head. Brimstone’s words were as soft as falling snow and difficult to hear while the storm raged. “I was the first and highest of Crafters, the prima arcitectus of our kind. As breath first entered my lungs, I awoke upon lands wild and untamed. You should have seen it in its prime...”

Brimstone had drifted off, the slightest of smiles adorning her face. The fond recollection had produced a unique smile Rarity has never seen her little sister wear. Whereas Sweetie usually smiled broadly from ear to ear, Brimstone was more subdued, a less defined but no less honest expression of fondness. “Even at the height of my own skills, I was unable to map its every boundary, every crevice. It was the broadest of expanses, where oceans, desert, and forests stretched for days and without recompense for my kind’s natural growth.

“It was not long before I met more. Just like myself, they too awoke across the lands from various states of torpor. I brought them together. I gathered them for the benefit of all, and to protect all Crafters from the ravages of hostility and time.”

The next thunderclap made Rarity twitch; the storm was unnaturally loud tonight. Brimstone did not seem to mind in the slightest. For the briefest moment, something flashed across the spirit’s face, but was gone before she could discern the ephemeral wisp.

“And the world,” she continued, “this wide, wide world, was under the omnipresent, ever-watchful eye of our god. We had the power of gods, the power to reshape the world as we willed it, a power gifted by the God of the Harvest: Era’doth.”

Rarity could not stop the shiver that came with that name. Luna had told Twilight of her encounter with the monster, who in return enlightened her friends. Twilight had never gone into specifics of Luna’s encounter in the depths of the Miner’s own mind. Perhaps she didn’t know. Perhaps she wanted to spare her.

Brimstone’s countenance would have forced stones to kneel with the returning frost and regal command. “He granted us the same gifts as your new... ‘friend’. The power of matter itself, and all in the way fell before our gifts. We warped the mountains into chasms, harvesting their bounty to construct our own kingdoms and fiefs. Among them, I was their liege. I gathered us together to survive and grow. Highest of Crafters I was, I still knelt to one other.”

That fiery flash of anger returned. Her lips upturned into a snarl before returning to a hard line. “We worshipped him as a god. Why wouldn’t we? On his back we thrived. To him we offered tribute, and we received resources and spells to further our race. I was one of the few who met him personally. He created us out of a desire...” Brimstone faltered for just a moment. “He never said what that desire was, only that he would never ask anything in return for creating the Crafters. For that kindness, I enforced a tribute every sunset.”

It didn’t sound too bad to Rarity. Era’doth had created an entire race with his god-like power, and had asked for nothing in return. What better deal could there possibly be? To create life from dust...

Brimstone let the moment sink in, and with a full gasp of breath, continued her retelling. “It wasn’t until much later, when I had finally solidified my power over my people, I discovered why his powers were so overwhelmingly on the side of creation: it was impossible for him to destroy.”

Given the god’s current behavior and actions, Rarity could sense there was a pretty big “but” coming. “At first, I experienced doubt over such thoughts. Life destroys in order to survive. How could a god not do so as well? I had been created to remake and it was well within my ability to destroy. Era’doth did not fault me for such thoughts, as he knew the cleverness that helped me unite my kind would eventually make me question the hand that gave me life.”

Brimstone faltered, unsure how to begin the next piece of her tale. When he spoke next, his voice was quiet and low. “We mastered our world. We built and defied the very laws that bound matter and energy. More and more He created, and more and more we built.”

The room seemed to darken around the little filly. “Soon afterwards he stopped. All the power he wielded, all the grace and blessings he bestowed, gone with less ephemeral mercuriality than a forgotten thought. Without a word, our god vanished.”

Rarity tried to cobble the pieces together in his head. Unrestricted power over creation? To create life from dust itself? Era’doth’s power knew no bounds.

Except one...

“He could not destroy?” Rarity asked carefully.

Brimstone affirmed the suspicion with a nod. “He built and created every wish and desire we had. Mountains to scale, ore to mine, a society to intermingle and develop, a king to reign over them all, worlds that sailed across the stars on the back of stone that devoured light itself, ships that sailed the skies faster than any sea. He built monument after monument that even the most skilled of my kind, not even myself, could equal. I could once perform wonders that not even the wandering mute could match, and my skills paled in comparison to the Harvester.

“...But that was the one heel. The world he created, the endless expanse that built upon itself until eternity itself warped and decayed across the Edge. As he finally completed his masterpiece, the very heavens themselves, we looked upon his greatness and understood the truth: all had been built. If his power was to create, what was there left for him to do once his power had been expended? It was the antithesis to his very existence, and why his expansions halted. If you create all there is, utilize every molecule of existence itself, growth stops. Life needs to die in order to be remade. Construction needs destruction. Life needs death.”

Rarity felt a chill go down her spine. The rains that hammered the poor Boutique seemed to cease ever-so slightly in respect to the coming violence about to unfold. Brimstone’s voice returned to her usual calm eloquence, deathly quiet in the room with only a flickering light to keep the two ponies company. “Our kind often would see him in the mists and shadows, an ever-present reminder of his protection and care,” she hissed with with clear traces of venom. “We were his children, his prized creation. And he abandoned us...”

A snarl curled around Brimstone’s lips, baring filly Sweetie’s teeth to the night air. She shook with memories undoubtedly forced to the surface, murals painted under a litany of fire. “It was not long after he had deserted the stars. Our greatest city was built atop where I had Awakened. The waterfalls and grass, the animals and all the people who shared our land’s incredible bounty, to them that was their capital. None knew want, none knew suffering. It was a beautiful place, where anyone could run free and even the pillars of our own creations touched the heavens. Then night came...”

The story was exactly alike so many told by the Miner during their private chats. He often told stories of battlements and fortifications he was required to build to survive his early years in his world. The monsters that stalked the night were even more beastial and animalistic than those that stalked the Everfree Forest.

“None knew what had happened at first, it had happened so fast. First came the dark, then the light...” Brimstone drifted off momentarily, caught in the memories. Rarity slowly tapped her hoof against the wood floors, jolting her out of her reverie. “The fog that heralds his primal form. He can take on any shape, but for those brief seconds after the sun set on Terra, we saw him. Gone was the form he had taken to fit in amongst we Crafters. We saw him, in all his terrible radiance and glory.”

“What did you see?” Rarity asked, speaking for what felt to be the first time in days.

Brimstone shook his head. “I was perched on the mountain, inside the home I had built for my mate and I. She was recovering from the weakness that came with birth.” Rarity felt a knife pierce her heart. Something must have shown on her face, for Brimstone glowered at the piteous look.

“His form dominated the heavens themselves, separating us from those that sailed the stars. If...” she faltered for just a second. “If I could describe what I saw, it would be little more than madness itself. In a way, I was not surprised by the turn of events. He was born from the very fires of creation itself.

“Then the screams began. The monsters that had long been banished from our lands, the pillars of flames and the weeping angels, along with countless others, infested the skies until it grew as bright as blood. Before anyone could prepare, they descended and began to massacre my people.”

“I’m sorry,” Rarity couldn’t help but cry out pitifully. It felt even stranger that her sympathy stemmed from honest empathy rather than the kneejerk sympathy she always felt for her sister’s plight.

“Do you pity me?” Brimstone asked suddenly, breaking away from his tale for the first time.

The ivory’s honest answer was immediate. As she embraced the filly, Rarity said a single word, “Yes.”

Brimstone wrenched herself from the mare’s clutches with strength Rarity would not have credited Sweetie possessing. For a moment, Rarity blinked, unsure of how she had offended the spirit. “Save it. It is little more than an expression to make yourself feel better.”

Well that was rude. “I regret loss, no matter the circumstance. No matter the perpetrator.”

The corner of Brimstone’s mouth twitched. “Such a feeling did little for the Crafters. They took to the streets to repel the threat. They only left family’s broken as they swarmed. Era’doth himself entered the fray, flaying and burning all those that entered his shadow. The cobblestone and wood that had built our very first foundations ran red with blood, all the while I stood, unable to help them. I was their king... and I could do nothing.”

Brimstone shifted closer, her light steps not even making the dullest thud against the floorboards as she approached. “Have you ever wished to die, Miss Rarity?”

This... This was going in a very bad direction. The old scabs had been removed, and the pus and pain that filled Brimstone’s soul, the dregs of hate that propelled him to such extremes, had been exposed. This was a pony with nothing left to lose, and absolutely everything to gain.

“Never. I have everything I need, and all I will ever need in this town.”

Brimstone’s smile turned cold, and Rarity looked away; Sweetie should never be forced to look that way. “I did, that night. I wondered... ‘Why me?’ Why wasn’t I destined to die? So, tell me...” Brimstone took another step, her filly snout pressed right against Rarity’s. “How can you possibly know what to feel for me without experiencing it yourself?”

“I... I don’t know,” she answered uncomfortably. “I do not wish to know how it would feel.”

Rarity half expected her to jump down her throat at that remark, but only received a mild nod in return. “The purity and blessed ignorance. Naive, but admirable and enviable.”

Her instinct was to give a quick-witted retort, but instead focused on biting her tongue. Seeing no objection on her part, Brimstone continued. “I took up arms, as did my mate. She was as proud as any, and armed herself even before me. I convinced her otherwise; our child needed protection.

“It was then that the outer walls were breached. The explosion was enough to render us both in a deep daze, but instincts as old as our lives commanded us to move. Danger was near. I took her hand and ran in a desperate attempt to flee. I cut down the monsters in my path. Every abomination conjured from the darkest depths fell before me.”

“Era’doth had perverted his gift. He had taken life. He had destroyed. That corruption stained him deep. It was also the first time I had ever seen that darkness that cloaks him so. I may never know what he was thinking then. I shouted over the noise, ‘Why?’ a thousand times until my voice bleed. I received nothing. The god who had given us life was there to take it away. My life mattered little to me, as long as my mate and child could escape.”

Brimstone sat on her rump once more. Even the occasional blast of thunder and lightning halted and waited with bated breath. “He split the heavens, severed the lands. I screamed in pain as my body lay bleeding across the stones that master masons lay centuries long ago. I bit through the pain, knowing full well that I would die there if I did not rise. I needed to move, to flee before the might of a god...”

Her voice choked, tears streaming down her childish face. Rarity moved to approach, but her attempt at sympathy was shunned with a hiss and a glare. Honor be damned, she thought, and she got up to at least stroke the poor filly’s mane, but Brimstone stepped back.

‘Wait...’ Rarity thought. Something wasn’t right. Brimstone had expressed, or at least claimed, a desire to help her people to such extremes that he or she or whatever the spirit was that she was willing to die for them. So, as morbid as it was, why wasn’t he?

“You ran...” she whispered.

The silence spoke volumes. The betrayal and self-loathing that slashed at Brimstone’s heart, pain Rarity’s own words had caused. Why Brimstone hated Celestia so much, his proclamation of Sweetie Belle’s wellbeing over his own...

“You ran...” she repeated to the empty bedroom as if saying it would make the buzzing in her ears go away.

“I know...” she gasped through her teeth.

“You left them to die!” Rarity screeched. “How could you do such a thing!”

“I would die a thousand deaths if I could have done anything different!” Brimstone screamed back. “He slaughtered everyone before him with a thought! No one—even me at my own peak—could stop him at full strength! My kingdom, burned. My friends, dead. I left them to die while I bled out in a corner! And there was nothing I could do!”

Brimstone screamed into the night, a warcry filled with all the pain and agony that had been simmering since time immemorial. The betrayal and agony, the self-loathing and destructive drive to succeed, a thousand emotions burning through the night air in a single burst that silenced mother nature herself. The betrayal of a god over his people, and the betrayal of a king over his kin.

“You’re not so different after all.”

“We are nothing alike!” she roared. “ I would have never harmed my subjects! Never slaughtered them due to some madness begotten by laws forged before time! I would have never stalked up those steps, eyes glowing in the night. A smile on my lips. Shadows at my heels.

“I pleaded,” Brimstone hissed, voice low and dangerous. Both ponies were on their hooves, glaring at each other. Rarity had no idea when she had gotten herself in such a hostile stance, but she didn’t care. This wasn’t her sister. Her body, but not her soul. “I pleaded, with every. Dying. Breath. Why? Why crush those who revered him so? I lay there before him, body broken and mutilated, torn asunder by blows that would have killed any lesser. If I was to die, I wanted to know why. So much destruction to regain a title?

“And he leaned in close, that massive abyss he calls a body blotted out the sun, and he said one... simple... word...” Brimstone’s frantic voice had returned to that low calm, that terrible quiet that tilted on the precipice between rage and tranquility. “The word no subject wants to hear, and the most destructive thing any god could say... Do you want to know what it was?”

Rarity shook, her body a terrible sludge of emotions. Fear clashed with rage, sorrow smothered pity. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, to denounce the monster or embrace the survivor. How could he possibly live with himself, wallowing in such a history?

But of course, her earlier thoughts haunted her mind. Brimstone didn’t intend to survive. Gone was the spirit’s family, friends, and lands. The mad dash to outwit a god, ended in only one fate for them both: oblivion.

Did Brimstone deserve this one taste of vengeance before being delivered unto the great sleep? What of the proclaimed fallen? Didn’t they deserve one last chance to right a wrong committed so long ago? Brimstone was reprehensible, but Era’doth, this Herobrine character, was far worse if the king’s word proved true.

The shadow of doubt snaked its way through the cataclysm of turmoil. And another thought, right on its heels: where did Era’doth get the chained seal?

Sweetie’s curls danced lightly as Brimstone through her sweat-stained brow out out her eyes. Staring deeply into Rarity’s own bright blue depths, a single word hissed through the child’s lips. With it, a lifetime of contempt and misery, and the promise of sweet, bloody retribution.

“Mistake.”

The air was cut with a cataclysmic thunderbolt and a crunch. Rarity’s ears perked. Thunder was far from uncommon, but what was that other noise?

Brimstone was far less impeded. With the swiftness only a hyperactive filly could muster, she turned and ran to the nearest window. Supporting herself on her hind legs, she did her best to peer out the window. The darkness was vast, a testament to the late hour and the billowing dark clouds bloated with fat droplets.

“No...” Rarity whispered in awe and fear. Not darkness. Not darkness at all.

There was another great crashing noise, and this time Rarity could tell exactly what it was and where it was coming from. Something was at the door. Something that had just crawled out of the smoking darkness that painted the normally dirt-stained roads in pitch black smoke.

“Here they come.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on FimfictionHERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK

Author's Note

Dedicated to those that brought me back.

Chapter 35: Half the World

Chapter 35: Half the World

“You must leave!”

Rarity didn’t know what amused her more: the fact that Brimstone thought she would without her sister, or that Brimstone believed she could sound commanding in a body like Sweetie’s. She acknowledged the spirit had the strength and force of presence to rule, but intimidating Sweetie was not.

“I need time to think, dearie.” She had just finished blocking a display window with a large wardrobe full of her casual attire. Her strength with telekinesis was far from strong enough to accomplish the task on its own, but a few well-placed bucks were ever-so-helpful.

It was quite the cacophonous racket outside. Skeletons rotted and corpses festered, and all were clawing at every available entrance to gain access. The simple lock on the front door would do little but buy one, maybe two, minutes. Tops. Rarity felt a cold shiver down her spine. She was surrounded, and there was no way out except through them...

The smoke outside regurgitated a few more creatures. With a rattle of its decrepit bones, a skeleton grabbed the thorax of an insanely large animal with several flailing limbs. As it mounted the monster, the duo scuttled out of sight.

The door shook violently, but the weight behind it prevented any further advances. The two large display windows! Rarity darted towards her desk, Sweetie at her heels. The filly was unusually calm, given given the sudden attack. The desk proved too heavy to move, and was thus forced to haphazardly shove clothing racks and mannequins in a pile against the window in a desperate hope to slow them down.

The front door splintered. A rotted arm writhed through the hole it had made. It swiped the air, blindly grasping for a target that was still out of reach. Finding nothing, it banged uselessly against the wardrobe.

“This is what he dealt with every night?”

“Unimportant. I am unimportant.. Your sister is unimportant. You must leave ground zero at all costs. You–”

Whatever Brimstone was about to say, it was cut off by an atypical and very unladylike roar from the seamstress. Once again, the spirit was taken aback by the mare’s uncanny ability to surprise her. She stomped towards her sister, hissing all the while, “Never! A life is never unimportant. Not his, sadly not even yours, and certainly not. My. Sister’s!”

Even the sounds of craven monsters was lost on Rarity. Brimstone’s eyes, Sweetie’s eyes, were a mask of blank calm. Whatever tempest within Brimstone forged from anger or fear was hidden under a mask of tranquility. The moment bespoke much, yet all the seething element of generosity could contemplate was the utter gall it took to say those words.

When Brimstone spoke next, her voice was level and even, carefully weighed with what was and what still needed to be said. “Many can and will die. As long as the six of you survive, there is a chance. If one of you dies, there is no chance.”

Another piece of wood splintered from the door. Not much time left. Rarity turned toward it before giving Brimstone a cool look and said, “What do you want me to do? Run?”

Rarity saw the look on Brimstone’s face before she turned her attention onto a coffee table. If looks could kill, Brimstone would have already won her fight. Rarity pushed the coffee table towards the door and propped it up vertically. Levitating a few bolts of cloth from the corner, she placed them against the table and wedged them in place. It wasn’t much, but it would hold a little longer.

“I will not sacrifice another life for my own.” Rarity backed up, examining her work. She’d bought maybe a total of five minutes with her impromptu barricades. Now if she had enough materials on hand to block off the last window, the one which had a corpse on the other side right now.

The window broke open with a crash. Glittering glass daggers lined the floor as monsters crawled in through the gap. Rarity backpedaled as skeletal and corpsified bipedal creatures, all far too similar to the Miner for her liking, advanced on her. The monster at the front of the pack, a skeleton archer, removed an arrow from its back-slung quiver. In the resulting confusion, Rarity had lost Brimstone. Where did the filly go?

Rarity’s horn glowed. The archer stopped walking as zombies shuffled past, not caring in the slightest if they got in the line of fire of their dead comrade-in-arms. It’s bony limbs clattered as they steadied and took aim, and yet the mare didn’t move. Rarity was busily fiddling with the screws holding the currently unlit chandelier in place.

The Boutique resonated with a thunderous crash. Glassware shattered and mental groaned as Rarity’s lovely crystalline chandelier smashed the heads of the archer and the zombified humanoids. She missed a hooffull of monsters, and there was still movement under the chandelier.

Rarity scampered back towards the stairs. Brimstone was hiding behind an overturned ponnequin, watching the skirmish carefully. With a slight shuffle and a flash of magic, Rarity flung the filly onto her own back.

“Not even yours.”

Maybe she could wedge a dresser into the stairwell and block their accent. Of course, that would also block her escape.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Rarity stumbled slightly and Brimstone gripped her throat to stabilize herself. Getting up, Rarity realized just how badly her knees were shaking. Nightmarish eldritch alicorns, chaos lords as old as time, feywild shapeshifters; she figured she would have become used to the onslaught of fear and adrenaline that came with life-threatening situations.

She gasped a breath and locked her legs to force them to stop shaking. She just needed a cool head. Panicking would be the real problem. Just focus on what’s under her hooves.

“There might be another way,” came the whisper on her back.

Lightning Chaser examined the sitting Miner. He had the tendency to scratch his beard when bored. Judging from the good dozen times his fingers raked through his full beard since she got to the mess tent, his boredom equaled her own. Unfortunately, protocol demanded he not wander into town after hours, and that left most nights with little for him to do other than odd jobs the Night Guard required of him to keep him busy, or the occasional test or experiment by the Council of Magic.

For once, the mare found herself empathizing with him. She too was utterly bored to tears when she was momentarily laid off after her first day on the job in this dumpy little town. After remembering that it was he who gave her the concussion that warranted the medical discharge from her duties, her pity was short-lived.

The seconds ticked by as slow as the thoughts of the useless guards around her. She still had another twenty minutes before her scheduled shift. It was twelve hundred seconds too long. Gripping her mug with both hooves, she downed a healthy dose of her tea.

Flash!

Boom!

The close proximity of the thunderbolt didn’t even phase her; the entire base was warded against rain and lightning already. Since the investigation into Sargeant Jetstream, Lightning had let her thoughts flow every which way. Zecora had all but confirmed a mentalist was loose. If her guess was right, it had inhabited both the zebra and the MIA, and likely deceased, soldier. She was currently at a dead end, unless the Miner could shed some light on the situation, or she discovered another with memory loss.

She sighed plaintively; an inquiry to Hemos was in her future.

The raucous laughter resounding around her was consistent with the mess hall. Given that it was one large, open tent with no door flaps, ponies came and went as they pleased. Several tables and benches lined right up to the scullion work area, most occupied by soldiers currently off duty or about to return like her. The chefs and scullions had packed up and left after dinner had come and gone, although a few sat with the soldiers and gossiped like housewives. She had seated herself away from the bizz, not really interested in chatter or sneaking morsels from the iceboxes. How she had got there through aimless wandering was a mystery to her, but not one she particularly cared about. What was interesting, however, was why the Miner was here when he preferred to grow and make his own food.

Like her, he preferred to watch rather than chat incessantly. Being mute was one of the few saving graces of his existence. He was busily writing in his own private journal, ignoring the activity around him. A few soldiers occasionally glanced across the table to catch a glimpse at what he was writing, but the glyphs made it nearly impossible to translate without a lexicon. Having run out of ink, he dipped his quill into an ink bag and continued, oblivious to her presence. It was a strange turn of events since he came to Equestria. His instincts, normally so fine tuned to react to the slightest twitch, had relaxed significantly.

He picked up a cup of water and drained it in a single draft. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he looked away. His gilded-cage guardians—double the usual number—avoided her eyes. Nothing surprising there.

Flash!

Boom!

The Miner did a double take, reexamining her eyes and auburn hair. He still wasn’t adept at identifying armored soldiers, but he was getting better. Her missing helmet was not standard issue, but custom fitted with her own measurements and would identify her easily. There was nothing less for a member of Luna’s elite guard.

Too bad it disappeared into the aether when he absorbed it.

“It’s been a long time.”

His eyes drifted to her black, leathery wings and what armor remained strapped to her back and legs. The Miner’s eyes widened in recognition and abstract horror.

“Stop pissing yourself; you weren’t whining the last time we met,” she said in a bored monotone. The Miner didn’t look convinced of her amiability. “I would have won.”

He blinked, chewing over her last words. He shook his head.

“I read your recounts. You got attacked by what you referred to as an “evil chicken.” You dove head-first into the Everfree Forest. How full of fuzz is that thick skull of yours?”

Flash!

Boom!

He flexed and pointed to himself in a clear message saying ‘I’m still alive.’

“Both times you fought a pony one on one, you got your ass kicked. That’s not a lot to brag about.”

The Miner scrunched his face in thought, his journal lying open and forgotten on the table. A mousy little magus who looked like she’d be whisked away with anything more than a stiff breeze leaned across the table to examine the few glyphs across the open page. Retrieving a scroll and inkwell from her bags, she began copying them down for future reference. The Miner did not seem to notice.

CHEATED

Lightning huffed. “Sure, the stupid cockatrice cheated. You certainly didn’t almost lose to a creature the size of a breadbox.”

Thump!

His palm rested on the glittering silver helm conjured from the nothingness. The rank insignia near the crest identified it as hers. A mute should never have a smug smile like that.

She swiped it from his grasp. Light arched across its glittering surface with the torchlight and the occasional lightning strike. It wasn’t damaged in the slightest. That wasn’t surprising considering the state of other stuff he’d conjured before. Still, the magi would no doubt want to take a look at it later.

“Wipe that smile off your face you miserable mute. Why don’t you talk anyw—?”

The words died on her lips.

One...

The Miner eyed her curiously. No matter his thoughts concerning her, he realized something had distracted the bat pony. His guards were active, but lazily relaxed. Shoddy soldiering.

A gust of wind brought in the scent of water on the wind. The wind was picking up, but nowhere near the gale it had been a week ago. Something was... off about the sound. The wind slashed at any loose fabric or miscellaneous objects too small to be held down by their own weight. The world around had slowed to a crawl. A fly was zooming around somewhere to her left. The Miner’s hand drifted to his mug at an excruciatingly slow rate.

Two...

FLASH!

BOOM!

Lightning rose to her hooves and scampered out the tent. She grabbed the first officer she encountered, and truly the only one she could see: a lowly corporal with a ridiculous smile on his face. She wrenched his face to her own. He made a cry a protest, unprepared for the Lightning’s sudden antics. He opened his mouth, ready to make some cry of protest, but she was one step ahead of him.

“Gather the officers and command crew. Rouse the Captain and the Archmage. Tell them to prepare for an impending incursion.”

The corporal’s stupid brain parsed the orders with agonizing slowness. She flexed a wing and smacked her wing thumbs against his flanks. “Go!”

The clueless officer saw the rank insignia engraved on the helmet in her hooves and gulped. She outranked him, and no matter his objections, he was given an order by a superior officer. Hesitantly, but fearful of the sudden outburst she expressed, he ran a moment to gain enough momentum for flight.

Not bothering with him anymore, she ran back inside the mess hall. The Miner’s gaze was still upon her, growing apprehension on his face. “All of you slack-jawed maggots; I want your armor on and hooves down in two minutes. Return to your posts! This is not a drill!”

There was a sudden clatter of utensils and plates as the immediately got up and obeyed. It was a well-practiced organized chaos, something kept from boot camp that few ever lost. The hoofbeats were interspersed with the booms and flashes of lightning strikes. Lots of them.

“You made a mistake, white eyes...” She couldn’t help but smile to herself. There was nothing but overcast blackness in the skies. The strikes were all too close to each other, too quick in succession. Out of all the places lightning could strike, none of them were outside the town or its outskirts. Every. Single. One.

She turned around and, for once in her life, was taken by surprise. The one strange thing she couldn’t explain was why a normally busy garrison was suddenly quiet. It wasn’t any longer; just as quickly, the air was cut by commanding shouts and screams. The corporal shouldn’t have had the time to do as ordered, but she had just spotted why a warning was raised anyway.

Hip-deep black mist mixed with luminescent white particles was rolling across the ground in waves. Tendrils weaved between backpedaling legs and tents alike like some many-tendriled beast. Ponies feared touching the encroaching darkness as if the slightest touch would devour them whole. Lightning flashed again. The baleful white arc slashed through the air, but still did not illuminate the ground enveloped by the darkness. It parted around her hooves like a boulder damming a river. She felt nothing as it danced across her vision. For some reason she had expected it to feel cold.

Sensing a presence, she flung a hoof out and halted a hair short of breaking the Miner’s ribs. He had approached her and peered out of the tent to sate his curiosity and uncertainty. His guards had not followed their comrades and returned to other parts of the base; it was their duty to keep him out of trouble. They hung back, concerned, but ready to act.

“Uruuuuuuughh...”

Lightning and the Miner moved in unison into the tent walkways, but whereas she was a portrait of cold calm, he bore a face of shock and fear. A ribbon of turquoise arced down his arm and into his palm. It coalesced for just a moment, and then elongated before hardening into a one-handed sword.

A few meters down the alley between tents was... well, it was something. Black sludge was pouring out of the ground in heaves. It clung to a flailing limb, one with several pieces of flesh hanging off the obviously exposed bones. Several other masses of flesh were stewing in the foul muck. A face, a disturbingly horrid and still somewhat familiar face, was staring right back at them. The creature groaned pitifully and lurched upward, freeing itself from the sludge. A bipedal creature slathered in muck and clothed in torn wool lurched toward them.

Then came a sound that she would later know to haunt the Miner’s every waking moment. Lightning couldn’t help but be impressed at the stealthiness; she considered herself an observant mare, even when her mind was focused on the creature in front of her. The sound stemming from behind her had surprised even her, and she couldn’t help but admire the quick reaction time of the Miner. He had dove straight for her, tackling her to the ground as the creature behind her gave a sound she would soon come to hate.

“Sssssssss....”

The Forest was screaming.

Something was gnawing at the back of her mind. The animals knew what troubled her; the were running from it in droves. Great flocks of birds, their chatter indistinguishable from the bellow of storm winds whistling through the trees. Critters scampered, crawled, or burrowed out. It didn’t matter where they were going, as long as it was away.

And the Forest screamed.

“Now’s not bedtime Angel; we have to go to Twilight’s!”

Something was coming.

Twilight would know what to do. She always had a way to solve everything, no matter how difficult it was. Even Princess Luna was near; she might be able to help. As she rounded on Angel, she discovered he was already near the door, vigorously pointing at the exit to get her to leave. She still needed her saddlebags and some medicine. Several animals were far too sick to leave on their own, and far too sick to survive any possible danger without her.

“Help me!” Angel refused the demand, hopping quickly to her side and trying to drag her to the door with his own meager strength. She shook him off. “I can’t just leave them!” A family of rodents cursed with the Blight, a bird with a broken wing, a dozen fearful eyes watching her with anticipation.

Angel squeaked angrily and flung his little paws up with a mixture of exasperation, fear, and rage. Without another protest, he hurriedly began corralling the animals with her into her saddlebags. The little squirrel who had come to warn her help with the job, shooing a ferret with his own little cast and sickly pallor into one of the side pockets.

Fluttershy jumped in the air with fright as the door to her cottage cracked with a sickening sound. Wood splintered and the hinges rattled, yet the door held. It was solid oak and would stand the test of time better than most, yet that was the last thing on her mind. Little Angel bravely hopped in front of his mistress in some vain hope to shield her from harm.

Thump!

The intruder slammed against the door once again, yet the door still held. Her rump backed into the table and a vase crashed to the floor. “Please go away...” she attempted to say, but it came out as little more than a strangled cry.

Her face was enveloped by a wall of soft, velvety fur. Angel hung painfully from one of her ears, squeaking madly and pointing away.

“Yes!” Turning quickly, accidentally knocking off whatever contents remained on the table, she darted towards the nearest window. There was no way she could properly fly in these winds given her meager abilities, but it was at least an alternate way outside and around the beast currently breaking down her door.

The shutter latch flew from her hooves as the wind caught the pane and flung it open. She winced as it banged loudly into the night. Maybe whatever it was didn’t hear it. Yes, that had to be it. The wind was loud enough, so maybe that totally not irrational hope would fall in her favor.

Shuffling out the window, not trusting her wings with even a short distance in this gale, she landed safely on the moist grass. The weather was even worse in its natural element. Her hair flew in a wild mess of strands and she quickly fell on her face. Trees groaned under the strain, but held fast. Old magics haunted this forest.

Something shuffled around the corner, carrying with it a fetid stench on the wind. Without even looking, Fluttershy darted down the small embankment and into the brook circling her home. Angel was at her side, silently pleading for her to keep running from whatever unpleasantness pursuing her. Moisture clung to her sore legs and stomach. She had crossed the water without much trouble. She jumped again as the air was cut with a loud, sickening crack. Fluttershy couldn’t help herself and she looked back, at least to see whatever beast would consume her in her last moments.

Whatever is was, it was clad in bright armor and carried a sword very much like the Miner’s, only this one was made of iron. Something was clinging to its back, its limbs around the armored creature’s head that was now sprawled at a disgusting angle.

“Fluttershy!” exclaimed a voice that almost made her wet herself with relief. Zecora flung the body off of her unceremoniously and galloped to her side. Her own saddlebags were bulging with contents. Orange alchemical goo clung to a wound that looked ugly, red and inflamed. Poison?

The zebra comforted her with a gentle nuzzle before taking her by the head before they were eye-to-eye. “We must go. The forest is not safe.” More groans and beastial hisses filled the air. These weren’t sounds native to the forest; that she knew. The darkness that clung to the shadow-filled forest lengthened, deepened.

Darkness consumed Fluttershy’s vision, and for once the forest was silent.

“Now is not the time for theatrics.” Rarity finished shoving the extra cabinet filled with her spare tape, pins, and fasteners down the stairs. It wasn’t much of a blockade, but wedging it tight prevented the monsters from simply overwhelming her position. Brimstone did her best to buck a small chest down as well. The clatter was enough to wake the neighbors. As morbid as the thought was, it sounded like they were having their own troubles; the sleepy little town, despite the storm, was saturated with the sounds of explosions, battle, and screams.

“There is little time to explain,” she said with a hiss. The monsters beat on the obstruction. It wouldn’t hold long, a few minutes if she was lucky. Still, if the king had a plan, even a bad plan, it was better than no plan at all.

There was little in terms of blockading the stairwell anymore than it was. She had several large vanity tables and dressers, but by the time she could maneuver them into position, they wouldn’t be of much help. “Too many to fight...” There was another option: one of the windows. They all led on top of Carousel Boutique’s outside overhang, which in turn led to an intimidating ten foot drop. An open option, despite who knows what manner of creatures currently lurked in the darkness.

“By all means, I am open to ideas. Perhaps you would tell me the tale of how this god of yours let you live?” Brimstone narrowed her eyes. Or was it ‘his’ eyes?

‘Strange what things one ponders when in dire straights,’

“A tale for another time.”

“Indeed.”

There was a skittering outside like a thousand tiny footsteps marching. The sound was ghastly and gave her shivers. Still, Rarity tried to compartmentalize everything. One thing a time. Brimstone and the horde at her door came first.

Brimstone was about to speak but Rarity interrupted her in her stuttering panic. “Also on my mind is why you do not like this Miner character. He came after your time, apparently. You know he is no threat to you, so why the disdain?”

Anger and irritation mixed in with the king’s glare. Rather than risk an unnecessary quibble, she apologized as quick as she could, “Apologies for rambling, but this isn’t something I am accustomed to. I am no soldier.”

That seemed to satisfy whatever retort Brimstone would offer. She sized her up in one quick scan, and nodded. “Observant, sharp-tongued, and capable. You are wasted as a seamstress.”

Despite herself, Rarity felt pride welling in her chest. The creatures smashing down her barricades were unsympathetic towards the moment they shared. Brimstone continued, “When this is over, perhaps I can tell you the other half of my tale. Now... It is as dangerous as it is foolhardy, but yes.” Brimstone stood on her hind legs and was peering out the window. “We can’t do this alone, but together, we may have a chance.”

“Sweetie Belle is not a fighter.”

“I wouldn’t allow it anyway,” Brimstone replied firmly, eyes hard. “Me.”

Brimstone’s hooves fell to the wooden floor with an echoic thud. She stepped towards Rarity, eyes hard. Footsteps resounded from the floor below. True to her warning, they were coming. “I may not have a body or strength to fight, but there is still power left in my decrepit soul. I can give you what remaining strength I possess.”

Both of their heads turned towards the door. Rarity’s own impromptu stairwell barricade was under attack. The sound of wrenching wood greeted their ears. “I am afraid I do not like where this is heading.”

“Neither do I.” Brimstone backed away from the door, ears flat against her skull. “I can sacrifice part of myself to you.”

“You do not see eager to do so.” Rarity backed up to. She opened one of her material drawers and removed several lengths of ribbon and a few spare gemstones. The materials floated above their heads, silent wardens for the impending violence.

“Fate has made the choice for me.”

There was another painful groan of bending wood from behind the door. Rarity gulped and dabbed at the sweat streaming down her brow. “I might as well humor what may be my last moments.” Well, there was always a wing and a prayer chance and just jump out the window.

Brimstone looked to Rarity, sizing her up. Rarity returned the examination. Sweetie’s body was remarkably calm, composed, and still. As much as Sweetie was woefully physically underprepared for a fight, Brimstone had resigned herself to the inevitability. Rarity would have preferred to stand by her friends at such a juncture, but it was better than being alone. She just wished she was unable to contemplate the thought of watching Sweetie die right in front of her.

Brimstone returned her eyes to the door and braced her feeble legs. “I can give you whatever dregs of my soul I can cobble together. With it, bones can mend, flesh can be restitched, but I can’t fight in this body; you will have to protect us both.”

“A fair price to pay.” Rarity sensed a pretty big “but” coming.

“But this comes at a price. I cannot facilitate the transfer on my own. I need something from you. An offering of strength.”

“Equal exchange.” Rarity knew some rudimentary aspects of unicorn magic. Exchanging one power for another was one of the most basic aspects of several schools of magic. “But I fail to see how giving magic to receive magic would help.”

“You wouldn’t give me your magic.” Rarity’s head twisted to Brimstone so fast something hurt in her neck.

“Oh. Ohhhhh...” So that was the deal...

“You could trade me your magic, but as you need that to fight, it wouldn’t be too beneficial to our current predicament. I’ve made preparations to distract Era’doth and summon Princess,” she spat with disgust, “Celestia here. The fallen god hopes to finish this quick. All we need to do is wait until reinforcements arrive or Princess Luna overwhelms Era’doth. I just need a piece of you that you won’t need to survive. I can likely spare enough power until dawn. By then you will have won, or... well, it won’t matter much.”

“You make it sound so simple...” Rarity simpered quietly. Panicked gasps fought to rise from her throat. She had at most two minutes. Two minutes to choose. Two minutes to die.

“Half the world.”

Out of all the things she expected Brimstone to say, that was not one of them. More specifically, how she said it confused Rarity. It had been such a short time since their meeting in Sweetie’s bedroom just a wall away, but every impression she had gotten from the fallen king was very much like Princess Celestia: strong, unyielding, and insurmountable.

It was a shock to hear tenderness in her voice, genuine care for another being. It was never a conscious thought, but Rarity had assumed she bore nor intent or kindness in her wretched soul. Sweetie nuzzled Rarity’s side, forcing her to face her. Those sweet eyes, emblazoned with fire and drive. Those young curves, hardened and coiled to spring. Being comforted by a king of lands long dead. There were worse last moments than that.

“Give me half the world to save the world. Half the world to save your friends.”

Rarity grasped Sweetie’s tiny body in a fierce hug. Asleep as her dear sister was, she could at least pretend she was still awake. The sweet smell of rosemary clung to her hair, the remains of her bath before bed. At least she was asleep, forced into a corner of her mind by Brimstone. Silently, she thanked the king; Rarity didn’t want her sister to see the violence yet to come.

“Your friends come first,” Brimstone said softly. “Save them, then exploit the biped’s knowledge of these monsters. It can fight. It must fight, and will do so.”

Rarity nodded, eyes closed. Brimstone simply continued while she clutched her sister desperately to her breast. “Don’t try to fight Era’doth; even with what I surrender, you will lose. Let Princess Luna engage that battle herself. But remember his pride is his weakness. He underestimates the strength of ponies. That is your biggest advantage.”

Rarity nodded again, stifling a sob.

“I won’t be able to see.”

“You will.”

Her eyes were shut tight to stop the salty tears. A final crash and footsteps crashing up the stairs.

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You must.”

Moaning at the door. One last hug, one final embrace.

“I am afraid.”

“...So am I.”

Rarity pulled apart. The monster’s footsteps were coming down the hallway. Her breathing was coming in short, ragged gasps. Brimstone’s eyes were hard. Prepared. Scared.

“I am ready.”

The last thing Rarity remembered was Sweetie’s body leaning forward before she began to scream.

Luna dismissed the corporal. Whoever had sent him possessed excellent instincts, but the warning was rendered moot by the time he had actually reached her observation post in the sky. Era’doth or Herobrine or whatever he wished to call himself was near, of that there was little doubt. The fog that heralded his presence had already consumed most of the observable ground.

Void. The Miner’s descriptions of the subject were vague to the point of contradictory, but the one word they managed to translate on the topic was the Void. There was a darkness at the very bottom of his world—how a world could even possess a bottom baffled even the Archmage. The one constant fact, no matter why he dug into the deepest earthen depths, was the ever-present darkness. The Void.

“Apt name.”

Wherever the shadows touched, everything vanished. Ponyville and the armed garrison were not as illuminated as a city like Canterlot, but it was far from dark. Torches, enchanted gems, bullseye lanterns, hearths locked behind windows, and whatever source of light imaginable once lit up the nightscape under her stars. Now the fog, once thick enough to swallow a filly whole was getting awfully close to consuming a full grown pony. From her vantagepoint in the air, the lights were being snuffed out one by one. Dim glows and the strange speckles of light manages to pierce thinner blankets of the Void, but everything else remained hidden from her gaze. Ponyville itself was blacked out, mocking her with its complete lack of activity under the darkness.

A flash of... something darted across her vision. Whatever it was, it hid itself from her gaze as quickly as she caught it.

The next moment a flash of light cut through the air. The countryside, except for the land smothered by the Void, suddenly felt the light of day as a lightning strike fell dangerously close to her. They were becoming increasingly more common, another sign of some sorcery she had yet to identify.

“Catch him!” came a shout from below. A few members of the Council of Magic, including her own Night Guard, scrambled to reach an object falling from the sky. Wait... that was the corporal!

Luna folded her wings and dove at breakneck speed to catch up to him. He had gained a fair amount of distance in the brief moments since she dismissed him. It would be a tough call to say if her dive would be enough to get to him. His body was flailing wildly, but his wings were still limp at his sides. He wouldn’t have enough time to snap them open in time.

A flash and silver and blue darted from the Void and shot straight up. It collided in the air with the disabled corporal, but the descent was nowhere near as rough. Captain Hawk had stabilized the tumbling soldier and brought him safely to the ground. Banking left, she landed next to the pair as fellow ponies galloped for a better look.

The corporal was still alive, but the smoke coming off his charred feather spoke of no flying in the soldier’s future. He groaned in pain and spat out a string of colorful curses, some of which Luna filed away for potential future use.

“It’s okay... barding caught... the brunt of it...” he said through gritted teeth. The spells woven into the armor’s metal during the forging process had indeed staved off much of the damage.

“Impossible! I helped put up those barriers myself! No lightning strikes should have entered the base’s perimeter,” Magus Solitaire objected. He looked disgruntled by the fact he was awake at so late an hour, but the adrenaline incurred by the recent escalation of events staved off any fatigue.

“Perimeter’s another twenty meters inward,” Hawk countered. He was looking over the corporal’s wounds, who had remained still during the ad hoc examination, but suffered through it. “But our armor isn’t even a conductor for lightning. I saw that lightning bolt. It changed paths right out of the air. That’s not lightning, that’s magic.”

“The level of power for such a wide scale spell would be astronomical! It – ” Whatever Diamond Solitaire’s objection, it was cut off by another lightning strike near the base’s perimeter. Then another. Then another. Another.

“Sound the– ” Her words did not stop the horrible hissing noise from causing a horrid chill go down their collective spines.

“Princess! Your six!” Hawk shot up and yanked Luna’s prostrated neck toward himself. He had spotted something behind her. Strange; she didn’t hear even the slightest noise until the hissing had began.

The air erupted with with scorching flames and peppering shrapnel. Luna expected serious pain or damage to her flanks and fragile feathers, but felt relatively unharmed after the initial flash.

“That... hurt. A lot...” Turning, Luna saw Diamond’s robes were almost entirely burned away. The rain outside of the barrier had quickly quenched whatever fires the silent creature caused, but the damage had already been done. Dimond had managed to fling up a shield to deflect most of the damage. As he did it to shield his liege and the wounded corporal, and he was not next to them, that meant the majority of the destruction bounced off his shield and was funneled straight to him. Vicious burns plastered his face and breast. The disgusting scent of cooked meat was in the air. “I...” He collapsed.

“Magus!”

Luna rose and her horn flashed with light. It managed to cut through a little of the Void’s obfuscation, but it was enough. Diamond was prone, unconscious from pain and the seriousness of his wounds. His cutiemark had been scorched off entirely. She bent her head down to cast her short list of healing spells. The art was something she had little experience in, but even if she could just stabilize him, it would be enough. There was a battle to be fought, and an enemy commander to confront.

If the hiss was bad, it was nothing compared to the dry rasp that came next. It wasn’t the death throes of the fallen magus or the fallen pegasus, nor some cry of any creature she had ever heard before. This one sounded like a corpse’s own terrible imitation of life itself. It reverberated through her, striking a primal chord deep within her self preservation instincts.

She lifted her head the barest fraction. Her remaining guards and sorcerers had parted around her in a defensive position to protect their liege. It was admirable, but it would do none of them good of none of them could see within the darkness. The Void was rising higher and higher.

“I know not what compels you to torment my subjects, Herobrine,” she whispered to the aether. She did not see the piercing glow of her foe’s eyes, but her instincts told her the creature was still listening. “I know not what grudges you hold towards us or others towards you. Our pasts matter little to me right now, only the present. Only the now.”

The beast hissed again and again. No... three rasps, all at the same time. It was getting closer, but that was not what caught her attention. Deep in the darkness, a pair of glowing white orbs looked right back at her. Bright white chains clothed a form still cloaked in shadows. The sound of clanking irons echoed across nonexistent walls.

“Know right now I will give everything to protect my subjects. I will fight, bleed, and die with them. I love them more than I love myself.” Hawk fidgeted slightly as he took his place at her side. A pair of magi had taken it upon themselves to care for their two fallen ponies. “I’ll grant this one chance now to make peace between us.”

Her entourage shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t care that they disagreed with her offer to negotiate; Herobrine had come prepared for war. She knew this creature’s power firsthoof, and if she could avoid further bloodshed now at the cost of previous crimes, it was a price she would gladly pay.

“I don’t want to fight you. I will.” Herobrine stared back at her from the darkened Void. The creature itself seemed to be hemorrhaging it in droves. With slow, steady steps, Luna approached the beast. Silent as the grave, he seemed to drift forward towards her. The chains binding him tightened and tore at his form with every step, but he did not seem to care. Great spikes of divine light bound the very chains to his form. Black, festering puss leaked and dried at every jostling twitch.

She was right next to him now. She could see every indentation and mar on his skin now. If it wasn’t for the eyes spilling the same holy light, he was mirror image of the Miner. Still something felt wrong about his presence. The fetid stench of death hung about him like a cloak, imprisoning his foul being at one single point. Luna sent a silent prayer to the architect of such a prison. It was marvelous magic and something she would have loved to study under less tumultuous circumstances.

But despite his crimes, Luna couldn’t help but feel her heart soften slightly at the beast’s predicament. No pony in Equestria knew of the torment of total isolation like her, the madness that can come with a tailored prison. Locked in darkness...

“The darkness is unforgiving. I know the pain that comes with loneliness and agony. I spent a lifetime watching the source of my anger grow without being able to bless it myself. Every day, every night, it hung there in the sky, taunting me. I cursed...” Luna’s breath caught in her throat. “my jailor every day for my imprisonment. I know of that darkness that creeps into the mind like a poison, the desire to destroy. I... I will help you... if you agree to end this.”

Once again, the ponies surrounding her shifted, yet still did not speak their mind. She thanked them for that. The slightest wrong move was going to send flames lighting up the night sky. It was something she expected, and yet... if she could just reason with the creature, connect with Herobrine with their shared madness, then just maybe her mad plan could work. Even the sounds of thunderbolts had decreased. The Shadow Pony was right; Herobrine could be blinded when confronted.

A three-headed beast rose from the dark miasma, two of them hanging from the torso by thin strands of flesh. The creature’s emaciated torso hovered in the air menacingly, all three heads looking directly at her.

“No.”

Zombified humanoids lurched up the stairs, the last crumbled remains of Rarity’s barricade laid to waste as broken shards at the foot of the stairs. Despite possessing little more than desiccated limbs strewn together with with rottings tendons, they could move together with a fair amount of speed. What the lacked in physical capabilities they made up in a lack of fear when pursuing their goal.

Their lurching footsteps never ceased; always roaming, always searching. The spiders on the other hoof were active hunters. Some scuttled along the walls or over each other despite the ample floorspace.

One however froze at a doorway and hissed. It’s pincers clacked eagerly at the chance for an oncoming meal. The sounds of screams and fires sounded through the night air. The hamlet had started its warning alarms, but the beasts paid them no mind.

A pair of shamblers started beating on the door. There weren’t that many in the narrow hallway, but that only left the question of where exactly where the rest of the beasts that had broken down the Boutique’s front door.

There was a great, thunderous roar as the door shattered into splinters. The zombies only stared stupidly as the door broke outward instead of inward. Something snow white, faster than any pony had the right to be, flashed towards the first zombie. Rarity’s bullrush was impressive, but the zombie still outweighed her considerably with its armor, despite the decaying flesh. That did not stop her in the slightest.

With strength she shouldn’t have possessed, Rarity’s weight slammed into it and into the opposite wall. The drywall cracked open and the wooden frame protested before snapping under the brutish assault. Rarity lifted the zombie up with her forehooves and slammed it back into the wall. These were stout wood beams harvested from Ponyville’s strongest oaks and they broke like splinters before her.

The spiders were by no means as slow as the zombies. The skittered towards the mare, climbing up and over each other in haste in order to reach the warm succor in her body. Through sheer trauma or simple shock, the zombie did not get up. It lay there ragdolled, half in the hall and half in the crawlspace.

Rarity did not look towards them. Ribbons of silk, linen, and various clothes wrapped around them like snakes, binding their many limbs together in numerous notes that only a dressmaker’s magical dexterity could achieve. One spider managed to escape its bindings and skittered towards the mare. With so many tied up bodies, there wasn’t enough time to properly attack, so Rarity delivered a vicious buck that made the spider soar to the other end of the hall and crash into and end table.

Rarity looked at her own rear leg. The euphoric power running through her veins had gotten her leg stuck in the wall. With a wrenching effort, she pried her leg loose. Splattered bits of blood dripped to the floor where wood and nails had scratched her skin. It took only a second for the tiny laceration to seal itself.

Twelve. Five upstairs, three in the stairwell, and four on the bottom floor. Rarity wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were around her. She could feel them around her as if she were blinded and now the shade had finally been removed from her muddled sight. They were just there, and she could feel every little twitch and scuttle.

“I feel...”

They paid no heed to neither the mare’s words nor her rapturous tone. Rarity finally looked at her foes. Her hair had gotten in her eyes and she reflexively brushed it out of the way. The left eye socket was devoid of its former contents.

“...ALIVE.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
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Chapter Commentary: LINK

Chapter 36: The Unstoppable Seamstress

Chapter 36: The Unstoppable Seamstress

Rarity hissed loudly, unsure if it was some curse or primal thrill of battle raging through her veins. She already ran out of blunt objects to smash the little devils, and even the walls were pockmarked with indented plaster and holes were she’d shoved more than one of the beasts straight through the wooden framework. She was running out of wall.

The skeletons were far more annoying than the other undead creatures. Although always swarming her en masse, zombies were easy enough to dispatch. The skeletons kept trying to pick her off with arrows from a distance. They weren’t too difficult to avoid despite how little breathing room the impromptu battlefield gave her, yet that did not dull the slow ache in her thigh where a broadhead had pierced the muscle.

For a while she had feared the creatures would attempt to attack Sweetie Belle’s still body. Small mercies could be found even in the middle of a fight as the beasts seemed intent on dealing with their central aggressor. Images—no, that wasn’t the right word for it. The burst of sensations that were drifting across her mind wasn’t simply sight alone. The smell of fetid flesh and bone dust, the irony tang of blood, each shuffle of fabric and her own thunderous heart painted a picture. A thousand bursts of color flashed across her mind’s eye. A million points of light that skittered within the walls were insects and dust mites milling about on their daily business, their only trouble being the gaping holes where she had punched through the walls and stout wood supports.

Each groan was a sign. Sight, smell, sound, and the inherent life flowing through every creature painted a map of her environment. The stress of a bowstring pulling taunt—how she heard it was lost on her—forced Rarity to sidestep until her cutie mark was forced against the wall. The arrow’s fletching sang through the air, the displaced air and the clatter of bones foretelling its trajectory better than any archer’s eagle eye. It was aiming center mass. She’d always had an eye for detail, but now it was if the fog had been lifted and she could see every minute facet of the world. How she knew the arrow’s path wasn’t in question. It wasn’t even a question. It just was.

Out of the original twelve, only two remained. The tight confines of the Boutique’s halls proved to be a nice means of bottlenecking the monsters. With her own overwhelming strength, fighting was child’s play. As long as they didn’t enter the bedroom and go for Sweetie Belle. Rarity wasn’t sure what kind of vitality Brimstone had given her to soak the damage, but even if she was on her last leg and devoid of strength, jumping in front of an arrow to protect her sister wasn’t out of the question.

The slight swish of an arrow tickled her snout as she dashed down the hallway towards the archer. Already it was preparing another projectile. It would never get the chance.

Rarity rampaged down the hallway and she swore the wood beneath her hooves warped and cracked under the force of her charge. A single zombie creature stood between her and the skeleton, completely oblivious to its comrade’s attempt to dispatch her. She didn’t even slow down as she forced the monster off of its feet and stampeded over its body. The beast didn’t even make a sound of protest as something compressed underhoof.

She tackled the last bony creature. Together they rolled, the nocked arrow clattering to the floor. There was as spider crawling on the outside. Eight little legs caused a slight vibration as it scuttled as noticeably as droplets on a still pond, it’s trajectory clear in her mind’s eye.

Why were they all the monsters empty?

For just a moment she stared at the beast she straddled. It was reaching for another arrow in its quiver. It didn’t even break its stride. All it wanted was to hurt and kill her.

Even the occasional termite shone with light. These beasts were hollow. Shells. No light, no vitality pulsed within them.

The skeleton didn’t even move to avoid the hooves coming down on its skull.

Rarity hissed again and again despite the lack of any more monsters to thrash. Each gasp was bringing in oxygen that didn’t feel adequate. Her blood sang in her ears and all she could hear was the constant thrumming of her own heartbeat like some great wardrum.

Ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum ba-bum babumbabumbabumbabumbabum.

The primal thrill of war, that feeling of immortality that came with the rush of danger and the fear of death. That was all that mattered. Every wound was only proof that she was still alive. Bones were crumbling to ash and decaying. They disappeared in death.

Kill them...

There were more outside. Every drop of adrenaline surging in her veins commanded her to continue the battle. Yes... they would face this war mare tonight. Rip and tear. Each monster devoid of a soul. Golems of flesh and bone that none would miss. She didn’t even need her magic when her own hooves, those very limbs stained with ash and effluvial gunk, would suffice in tearing them apart.

Kill them...

Rarity bit into her fetlock until warm blood touched her tongue. Blood pooled from her own wounds, those both self-inflicted and not.

Kill them...

Were her bones groaning? She bit harder and her own body cried under the strain. Regardless, Rarity held firm until the slow throbbing in her soul understood she would go no farther. This wasn’t natural. Self defense was one thing, but this bloodlust? Ravage them. Maim them.

Kill them...

Her heart calmed. Her breathing slowed. Danger had passed.

Kill--

Rarity felt something give in her leg and was met with a burst of hot, wet iron flooding her mouth. No. No! The fight was over! Calm down. Her heart wasn’t slowing but the fog of war had receded to manageable levels.

“Calm down... Deep breaths...”

As carefully as she could, Rarity extracted her own limb from her mouth. Blood had started pooling on the floor and yet all the self-inflicted wound had garnered was a dull throbbing and the pungent taste of iron on her lips.

She took a moment to examine herself. Her once immaculate coat had already been marred by sweat, dust, the bite, and some minor wounds. The arrow had impacted just above her cutie mark, leaving the area flush with the bright-red hue of blood. It stuck out all the more due to the alabaster shine of her coat, and yet the pain that should have had her on the floor moaning in agony, or at least nursing a nasty wound, gave her no more than a dull ache of protest. She grasped the shaft with her teeth and tugged it out. The wound trickled red and further marred her coat with barely any pain to hinder her pace.

What exactly had Brimstone done to her?

Rarity scampered back to Sweetie Belle’s room. Despite the loss of half her vision it in no way hindered her ability to navigate the familiar environment. What sight beyond sight was this? To feel every inch of her environment as if all—

Sweetie Belle wasn’t breathing.

Even a good two meters away, Rarity wasn’t sure how she knew; she just did. There was air diffusing in Sweetie’s lungs, but her diaphragm wasn’t moving. Somewhere a loud screeching echoed across the Boutique. Sweetie Belle lay limp just as she had been right before Rarity smashed through the door. How long had that been? A minute? A second?

The screeching had come from her own throat. “Don’t you dare go back on your word now!” Rarity gently rolled Sweetie’s limp body onto her stomach. Taking a deep breath she blew a lungful of air into Sweetie’s mouth. Just as she put her hooves together on Sweetie’s chest for chest compressions, she hesitated.

She had just put a zombie-creature through a wall with raw strength alone. Whatever Brimstone had done, the king had given her a lot more than just a boost to her magic. If she wasn’t careful, she’d crush Sweetie’s ribcage with nothing to show for it.

Power. That’s what Brimstone had given her. The power to save, and the power to destroy. She blinked; the left eye socket felt strange. She could still see despite the loss of an eye. Sight beyond sight. She saw Sweetie wasn’t breathing before it was possible. Maybe, just maybe, she could use this brief gift to save her sister.

There was the surge of energy firing off in Sweetie’s brain and the dull thrumming of bodily processes. Dearest Sweetie Belle was still alive. That was good. Rarity repeated that fact in her head again and again as she slowly gave her sister chest compressions. She felt the rib cage complain at the motion, but the bones weren’t under enough stress to snap. Is this what Brimstone always saw? The integrity of her very bones? The cognition of the dullest fly? It would certainly explain how he was capable of hiding so easily.

Rarity closed her eyes and pressed once more against the velvety soft fur of Sweetie’s chest. Even blinded she could feel her bones creak under the strain, the motion of air exiting her lungs. Again, slightly harder. This time however she could see something give in Sweetie’s sternum, as if the cells themselves were crying in protest. That was the limit.

All in all, Rarity felt as if she was barely pushing against her chest at all.

Rarity repeated the motions, carefully monitoring Sweetie to make sure she didn’t accidentally injure her darling sister. She winced when one of her ribs groaned and cracked, but she needed to press on. Breath, press, press, press, press, press.

Breath, press, press, press, press, press.

She saw it before she felt it. The tingle of energy gathered in Sweetie’s gut and her diaphragm contracted. She took in breath after breath, still listless on the floor. Sweet, glorious oxygen flooded Rarity’s own lungs as she took the breath she had denied herself during her task.

Sweetie Belle was alive. Sweet, beautiful Sweetie Belle was alive...

She was alive!

Rarity embraced her still sister and laughed. Ponyville was under attack, Luna was in trouble, her friends needed saving, and Sweetie Belle was host to an incorporeal spirit. The peal of laughter that echoed through the Boutique’s smashed halls was something more honest and pure than anything Rarity had ever experienced in her entire life.

“I will never let anything hurt you,” she whispered to the warm form pressed to her chest. That familiar scent was tainted with the stench of smoke and blood, but Rarity didn’t care. She wiped away the wet blood from her own face, only to see that it was nothing more than copious tears.

She needed her saddlebags. They couldn’t stay here.

Rarity gave herself one more moment of indulgence before pulling away. Just one more moment. Sweetie couldn’t fight, but this moment, the memory of two sisters embracing would certainly be enough to keep Rarity alive.

And with a quiet breath to collect her thoughts, Rarity set to work.

Her first objective was to raid her own gem stores. The local contingent of Royal Guardponies, acknowledging her skill with gems, had commissioned her to sharpen and restore what weaponry they had, at least those that could afford her prices. She opened the back chest of her own store. Gemstones, all polished to a mirror shine and cut to perfection. Steel throwing spears with razor sharp diamond-tipped points. She neatly stashed them in one of the pockets, closed them up, and continued her brief supply run.

Sweetie Belle was still quietly sleeping. The slight buzz of her sleeping mind was both a concern and a relief. Shouldn’t Sweetie just wake up with Brimstone in such a weakened state? That’s what it sounded like. Brimstone was just suppressing Sweetie while the king did his business. Why was she still asleep?

Rarity bit back the fear. There was nothing she could do for her dear sister in the Boutique. She needed a hospital, or better yet, Twilight. If Sweetie never woke up...

Rarity swallowed.

She had collected a few bolts of cloth, her own pitiful stock of spider silk, and a couple lengthy needles. Already she was loaded down with enough weight to make her bags bulge and complain at the seams, yet the extra weight didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Rarity perked her ears. She could hear the grunts and groans outside from a hundred different sources. She needed to get out, needed to leave. Sweetie was the last item on her list, and after carefully levitating her silent sister onto her back, Rarity finished her preparations by lashing her sister to her withers.

All was set. Rarity gave her shoulders an experimental flex. Same pony. At least on the outside.

“I can do this...”

Rarity shoved aside her meager barricades, each moving with little effort. With that, she walked through her smashed front door and into the rainy night.

The skies immediately flashed with a tongue of lightning bright enough to illuminate all of Ponyville. She tasted smoke and gunpowder, felt more than saw ponies running for their lives in the distance. The monsters, now that she had a good chance to examine them with her enhanced sight, were little more than husks compared to the embers of light coming from ponies. Rarity could see two of the zombie creatures across the street meandering about.

Despite her canter, she felt the intoxicating urge to simply dash into the night until her limbs collapsed from exhaustion. The endless well of energy that gave her the vitality to smash the supports of her own house as if they were nothing was at beck and call. Rarity flushed as a pleased sigh exited her lips. Every step felt like she ought to shake the ground. Oh, what a rush! Was this how Brimstone felt all the time? How was he at full strength then?

She tried to calm the heart she swore was beating far faster than it should. Right now she needed to do a little test, and now was not the time to become enthralled by her new abilities. Focusing her new senses, she examined the closest house. Despite it being undamaged as of yet, she saw the skittering little lights of a thousand different insects scuttling through the walls. Fairly spacious, but otherwise completely devoid of pony or monster life.

Why couldn’t she see it as it was? Blinking to clear her vision, Rarity struggled to focus her remaining eye at the house. There was the buzzing of life, screams and the constant hammering of rainwater, the acrid stench of fire on the wind. Each sense was cranked to its maximum to paint a picture. Where originally she’d have an oil color painting on cheap paper, now it was a canvas with an artisan’s deft touch on the brush.

White. White house, windows, and a fence.

How... dull.

The world snapped back to the canvas. She checked Sweetie’s bindings once more out of worry before setting out again. Pinkie lived closest to the Boutique. That would be her first stop, and then it would be towards Twilight’s library. As brash as she was, Rainbow could probably take care of herself. What worried Rarity most was Fluttershy and Applejack; both were isolated from town with nary a neighbor in sight. And in opposite directions.

Fluttershy or Applejack?

Was she choosing which one had a better chance of living? Which one would die?

Rarity swallowed again. She’d get to that choice in a moment.

Her ears perked out of reflex. She sensed movement up ahead. Three ponies, one far larger than the other two, were being set upon by some monsters. Rarity’s canter turned into a full gallop as she came upon the flower shop. Lightning flashed in the skies and was accompanied by an earth-shattering boom. Rarity skittered to a stop, turned, and dashed towards the florists.

Kill th—

“No!” she screamed.

Despite her call, Rarity yanked one of the spears out of her bags and threw it towards one of beasts. The shambler didn’t even flinch as the spear passed right through its rotting body and pinned it to the flower shop. It swung a sword at her in an arc that was easily dodgeable with her enhanced senses.

Bulk Bicep had two more wrapped in each foreleg. Without so much as looking at them, he forced their skulls together with all the force his considerable muscle could muster. There was a resounding crack and both monsters dropped like stones. The pinned creature writhed uselessly.

The two ponies who had taken refuge inside poked their heads out as the violence ceased. The flower shop was not nearly in such a state as the Boutique now was, but it would take some considerable time to repair. Rarity could smell a doused fire, and broken plaster was so plentiful she tasted it with every breath.

“R-Rarity...?” Bulk Bicep quietly asked. Strange; he never did quiet. “What happened to your—”

“Never you mind,” she snapped. That wasn’t a topic for now. “Is everyone alright?”

“Where’s Daisy?” Rose screeched and Rarity winced as the railroad spike of noise stabbed into her skull. “Have you seen her? She was here only a minute ago!”

“No, I am sorry but I haven’t.” Rarity looked around. No body heat, at least none that she could detect. Then again, there were an increasing number of fires sprouting up, so that wouldn’t help regardless. No slight buzz that accompanied ponies. No light.

A morbid thought sprung to mind. Could she “see” the dead?

“Listen, dears, there’s little time. I need you to accompany Mister Bicep here to...” To where? Another bolt of lightning flashed and an idea struck her. “to Twilight’s house.”

Bulk Bicep nodded, although he still looked at her thoughtfully. Rose and Lily finally exited the confines of their shop with a skittishness matched by Fluttershy. The flower ponies were known for their weak constitution, but the fear surging through their veins kept them conscious. Rarity was about to ask how the bodybuilder got here so quickly, but a quick sniff told her what the three of them and possibly Daisy were up to before the attack started.

Rarity gave Bulk Bicep a steady look. She couldn’t tell if he flinched either by the ferocity of her glare or her missing eye, but he stayed quiet. “We’ll take them there. Make sure they get there,” she said. He nodded again and began shuffling the remaining two outside. “I’ll keep an eye out for Daisy.” After a beat, Rarity chuckled at the irony.

The bakery was at the far end of the road and marked where she’d need to turn in order to get to the library. Seven houses marked the rest of the street. Pinkie was close at hand but a lot could happen fast this night. Sweetie Belle’s thready pulse beat against her back. Behind her, the two flower ponies followed Bulk Bicep with equal parts fear and hope.

Lightning flashed back and forth with increased frequency. With that, Rarity’s suspicions that this wasn’t an ordinary storm were further enforced. There was something wrong in the air. Storms had a certain feel that this one lacked.

“Not so fast, Miss Rarity,” Bulk Bicep whispered. Rarity halted her pace so the three could catch up. “Don’t know how you can see so well in all this fog with.... Erm.” He stumbled over his words before staying silent.

Rarity was about to scoff before she remembered the scene prior to the attack. The hideous spectral fog that waylaid the town was still present. That, coupled with her missing eye and the fact she was navigating the town so well in the shadowed and rainy blackness spoke of secrets best left until after the fight.

“I don’t have time to explain, dearie.”

She once more tried her best to look at the stallion with her regular sight. He seemed quesy, but whether that was due to the siege or once again looking at her missing eye socket was in the air. He was a beast of a pony trying his best to stay cool, but she could see even without her enhanced sight the tension around his eyes that he was barely holding it together. He looked at her for just a moment longer before nodding.

“I’ll try to keep up, ma’am.”

More creatures were nearby. “Stay close to them.” It was almost too easy with the call to arms still resounding hot in her blood. Fighting had come natural for quite some time, but this wasn’t a brawl. This was war.

Ponies were going to die.

These two trembling flower ponies were a hair’s breadth away from fleeing in terror, yet she couldn’t spend the precious minutes to comfort them. Safety or comfort? How odd that she had chosen the role of protector so quickly and easily.

Tilting her head to the side just a moment, Bulk Bicep was knickering soft words to the two mares. Whatever it was, it had to be enough.

The air was shattered by a cataclysmic explosion. The world flashed white and Rarity swore death was at her heels, scythe in hand. Pain burrowed into her skull. Someone was screaming. Was Sweetie Belle okay? Where was everyone!? White. White hot pain buried into her brain and gnawed at every little crevasse, every corner. Teeth buried behind her eye and yanked. She was going to die. She was barely out of the house and both she and Sweetie were going to die...

There was something here. Delicate and light. Another frantic and thunderous like stampeding hooves.

Hard. Sharp. Choking.

Burning. Cold, wet earth.

Shaking.

Noise.

Voices...

“...think she’s coming to...”

Rarity opened her eyes—both of them out of habit—and the world was split into white and black splotches. The white one moved and a neon pink took its place.

“Rarity?”

The canvas returned. There was something in the air around Pinkie. She knew it, but couldn’t place it due to the swaying in her brain. Many more ponies were near; their little heartbeats were pulsing amidst the thundering rain. Somepony was crying. Fearfully, she reached out and felt the warmth still lashed to her back and the accompanying gentle heartbeat.

“How many hooves am I holding up?”

“...All of them?” Rarity said tenuously. Four limbs cluttered her fuzzy vision anyway. Wait, how did she do that?

“Yeppers!” As Rarity was helped to her hooves, she saw that Pinkie’s cheer was not all that it appeared to be. Her uncontrollable frizz hung limp like seaweed across her face.

“Get down!” Rarity hissed. A quick sniff told her they were in a wooden building. It wasn’t the bakery judging by the scent, but Rarity could still smell cooking materials in the air. Wherever she was, a creature was scuttling across the roof and heading towards the front window.

Pinkie was already down even if her tail wouldn’t stop twitching back and forth. “Twitchy twitchy twitchy, Pinkie’s got an ichy.”

The house’s front window flashed green along with the lightning and a massive spider fell into their field of view. Rarity heard hushed screaming from somewhere in the room. The spider was engulfed in arcane fire and moved no more. It also crumbled into ashes like the monsters before it and joined the muddy earth.

“C’mon.”

Pinkie swung her rump and her limp tail wrapped around Rarity’s foreleg. She led Rarity towards the back of the store, and not a house as she initially thought. They were in the old tinker’s workshop across from Sugercube Corner. So far, his workshop appeared to be unmolested save for the cracked display window and a front door that had been jimmied open in a hurry.

Bulk Bicep was behind the front counter with the two flower ponies. Rose was out like a light and Lily continued to sob into the stallion’s chest. Poor dears. Perhaps now they’d have a little breather, but they still weren’t safe.

Pinkie nudged her head towards the office in the back. Bulk Bicep did his best to move Lily along, but the inconsolable mare only whispered her missing sister’s name over and over again. He quietly nudged his head between her legs and lifted her onto his back next to Rose. He followed Rarity while Lily held onto his neck and pined for a mare who may never see the coming dawn.

Mister and Misses Cake huddled in the back office with their children, who were bawling as children do. The pair were doing their best to comfort the twins, but no sweet nothings were going to help for now. Pinkie shook herself off, removing a layer of water and flour out of her coat. The white splotches were cut where the rain had run them through. Bulk Bicep followed them, but turned around to watch the door.

Cup Cake was the first to see them. “Rarity!” she said as she started to get up. Her eyes widened in horror as a hoof went to her mouth. “Dear Celestia, what happened, sweetheart?”

“It’s...” Rarity held a hoof up to her missing eye. Gone. “I lost it getting out of the Boutique.”

It was a terrible lie. No blood marred her face and what wounds she did receive healed with Brimstone’s regeneration, and that didn’t even cover how she was able to fight her way through the town. Rain had cleansed her her of most of the blood and dirt from her fight.

Pinkie twitched and fidgeted, and then gazed at her coolly. Heh, Pinkie Sense. There’s no fooling the fool.

“Is everypony alright?” Rarity interjected, hoping to divert the problem.

“Yes, thanks to Pinkie Pie,” Carrot Cake whispered. “She knew something was wrong before... before everything.”

“I loaded up the party cannon with flour and blew out the front wall.”

“You can do that?” Bulk Bicep asked a little too loudly.

“Flour’s explosive!” It was? “After a big badda boom and a little snicker-snack,” What did that even mean? “I got the Cakes out and we found Rarity unconscious.”

All Rarity remembered was sound and then pain. The sound of Pinkie’s cannon so near coupled with her own enhanced senses must have overwhelmed her.

“So what are you lot doing out and about?” Carrot Cake asked.

“We’re on our way to the library,” Rarity said. “With all of this ghastly fog about and the lightning rod atop the library, darling little Twilight is undoubtedly the safest in town. Old magics give the library strength, and she is an accomplished mage in her own right.”

Natural lightning or not, Rarity was willing to gamble that Twilight’s lightning rod was able to absorb the unnatural strikes if for no reason than Ponyville was a magnet for hellions and trouble; Twilight must have solved that contingency long ago. Cup Cake seemed to agree. “Excellent idea, Miss Rar—!”

Rarity’s hooves told her the entire building shook, but with her magic and sight beyond sight, everything shook. Something from the south flashed into the sky and lit it up with the force of a thousand suns. It made the lantern light of every soul present dim in comparison and forced Rarity to look downward to avoid being blinded. The burst of power flash forth and spread in a disk pattern outward, and like that it was gone.

“...What was that?” Lily whispered from Bulk Bicep’s chest.

“Something from the south, whatever it may be.... Likely near the encampment.” It was another thing to check up on once she got there. She received a few stares. Composing herself, she tapped her horn. “I believe it to be a spell.” She wasn’t certain, but it was better than saying she saw it through the aether. If so, the only unicorns she believed capable of accomplishing such magic were Princess Luna, Twilight, and the Archmage, but Rarity couldn’t make heads or tails of whatever the flare was supposed to do.

“We need to get going.” She expected the Cakes to say that, but it came from Pinkie’s mouth. “It’s not safe here.”

“Pinkie’s right,” Carrot Cake agreed. “I’m glad you’re all alive, and I’m sorry for your injuries, Miss Rarity, but this ain’t no place for foals. We need to go.”

“Sooner than later,” Bulk Bicep voted.

A few more voices expressed approval and the party was set. With the library as the destination, the ponies gathered their meager supplies and prepared to move out. Pinkie, however, pulled Rarity aside.

“I expected you would like to talk, Pinkie Pie.”

Pinkie just stared at her behind that curtain of limp hair. “Why did you lie to everyone?”

There was no time to lie, and no point. “I will tell it to you as straight as I can, Pinkie dear.” Rarity sighed. It was difficult for her to compress her and Brimstone’s lengthy dialogue into a brief conversation. “All of these monsters have been conjured by Herobrine. He’s here because he wants the Elements of Harmony, and if he can’t get them, he wishes to... kill those that can use them against him.”

For the first time that night, real emotion, a constant outpouring of shock and horror, painted Pinkie’s face. “You... you mean all of this is happening because of us?” Pinkie pushed open the office door and looked out the window to see the destruction.

Rarity closed the door. “No!” she hissed quietly. “He’s here doing these horrendous and awful things because he’s mad! You are in no way responsible for this, Pinkie. None of us are!”

Pinkie didn’t look convinced. Rarity continued, “Herobrine has an enemy. We talked before the attack began. He’s why I don’t... have an eye. We were surrounded, and his offer was the only way I could save Sweetie Belle. I paid the price. I did so willingly.”

She didn’t even have to point out the hole in the story. “You didn’t answer my question, Rarity. Why did you lie to me?”

“Because there were many things we talked about that shouldn’t be spoken of just yet.” Brimstone being very able to harm Sweetie Belle in retaliation being one of them. “I want to tell you everything, Pinkie. I really do, but there is no time.”

Pinkie narrowed her eyes at Rarity. She reminded Rarity so much of that time when paranoia grasped Pinkie’s heart and twisted it. Those insecurities made Pinkie into a vastly different pony. Was that the front Pinkie was putting on now, the yin to her yang?

“I Pinkie Promise to tell you.”

Pinkie blinked. As the assembled ponies walked towards them, Pinkie lifted a hoof and crossed her chest, a gesture Rarity repeated.

“Let’s go.”

Pinkie opened the door and hung low. Rarity followed suit and the rest of the ponies came next. The magic in her sent a fire in her blood. With it she felt the ability to run miles and miles with no end, to fight the waves of creatures with her lonely self as the ponies’ vanguard.

Power. This couldn’t have been any normal pony magic. This was something much different. Primal. Powerful. If this was Brimstone at a fraction of his strength, what was he like in his prime? An even more terrifying question passed by Rarity’s head: how strong was Herobrine at full strength in order to beat an entire civilization with power like this? Taking a moment, she craned her head and kissed Sweetie’s brow.

Rarity stretched her senses out as far as they could go as she and Pinkie approached the door. Persistent rain was making it harder to discern the scuttle of legs from ambient weather. Splattering droplets was so very much like hoofsteps.

There. A wiff of decay. An empty husk.

Search for those with the missing light, the lantern compared to the husk.

“Anything, Pinkie dear?” Rarity asked. If anything, Pinkie would be able to confirm where ponies or monsters were located. Pinkie shook her head.

This was... wrong. Seeing Pinkie like this, apathetic, lifeless, and pragmatic, wasn’t right. Wasn’t natural.

The storefront was clear. Six blocks north led straight to the library and the safest haven there could be in town. There were none who matched Twilight’s raw talent with magic outside of Luna or the Archmage. She could see lights congealed in the vile fog ahead, both real and soulfire. There was something going on near the library. Good or bad?

Time to find out.

“Let’s go.”

Rarity pushed open the door and cantered into the stormy night. Pinkie followed close behind. The Cakes followed suit while Bulk Bicep guarded the rear while his charges clung to his back. Whatever was happening at the library, it was causing far too much of a ruckus.

Better make an even bigger one.

Before the party even managed to collect on the main drag itself, Rarity heard a sound so disgusting it nearly made her retch. Black, pustulous ooze sprouted from the ground. Some form clung to it. Something moving.

“C’mon, everypony!” Pinkie rallied and they all increased their speed to outpace whatever was happening. Even under the thunder and lightning the sounds of war echoed across town. Arcane energy, lightning, and screams became the cocktailed norm.

Something ahead of them lurched out of the fog. Armored and wielding a sword, it didn’t even look at the encroaching ponies as it lurched toward them with iron sword raised. Pinkie only increased her pace to a full gallop and lept. The monster swung with intent but was far too slow to compete with Pinkie’s athleticism. She cleared the monster entirely, taking special effort to buck her hind legs into its helmeted head.

The monster lurched towards Rarity. With a flourish of magical dexterity, the beast was ensnared in a bolt’s worth of fabric.

“Mow through!” Carrot Cake shouted. Rarity was only too happy to oblige and left the monster where it lay. They all had charges to protect.

The air was cut by a thunderous flash and a cold chill that ate her bones. Ahead of them, the Ponyville Fountain shattered and peppered the air with stone. “Mow through!” the stallion screamed again.

She could feel it near them. For just a moment, she was back in Sweetie Belle’s room waiting for the end. In the forest while an alicorn goddess plotted against them. With that icy touch of chaos that ate her soul until she was a hollow version of herself.

Something was coming.

The rain chilled her skin to the bone, her fur providing so little protection against it’s frigid bite. The sound she heard put that all to shame. It was like the cold finger of death stroking her spine, a voice that pierced her skull and rattled around her brain.

Something hissed in a way so unclean she swore it took ten years off her life. There was another flash of chilling cold and with a burst of lightning arcing across the sky, she was shown something out of nightmares. It made her want to scratch out her eyes and ears, to force out the noise until she clawed it out herself.

A creature black as midnight floated across the skies. Three desiccated heads clung to a long, gangly, emaciated torso that dripped more of the foul sludge that birthed these monsters. Its eyes, all six of them, were glinting through the darkness. From each mouth vomited arcane power and wherever it struck, the earth itself violently erupted. One of the heads turned slowly after it spewed its deathly magic and its infernal eyes met her own.

It was smiling. Grinning, even. A wide smile was painted across its bony, rotten face.

“Move!” Carrot Cake shoved her forward, breaking her gaze. “Keep moving!”

She had stopped running. He was pushing while Pinkie was all but dragging her forward.

The earth around them erupted into stone and pain. Rarity’s equilibrium was thrown off as the ground disappeared and all that was left was constant ringing in her ears.

Pain.

Pain.

Something hurt.

Get up a part of her said.

Everything hurt.

Get up!

Why was this happening?

Where was Sweetie?

“Get up!” Rarity hissed.

Everything was blurry, but blurry was still better than cold oblivion. Live to fight another day, another moment. She caught the pulse of Sweetie Belle on her back, the warmth of her breath, and only the scent of blood that came with minor wounds. Safe; Rarity had taken the brunt of the blast. As long as Sweetie was alright, nothing that happened to her mattered.

The little spark of life in each pony told her she and two others, most likely Pinkie and Carrot Cake, had separated from the herd. She was several meters away, while the other two were being dragged off by Bulk Bicep and Cup Cake. She almost laughed. Any other time, she may have been miffed at being the lady in distress with no one to look after her needs.

Stone had peppered the road. Something had cratered cobblestone and dirt where she’d just been standing mere moments ago. The monster?

“It’s not safe, Rarity,” she told herself. “Keep going!” The monster was still near.

She got to her hooves... only to collapse. A dull ache arched up her right foreleg. What she saw was enough for her to finally expel the bile in her throat that night. As she wiped her lips clean of dinner, she saw with morbid horror the strands of muscle tissue and bone exposed just above the knee, the leg itself jutting at an impossible angle. Blood hemorrhaged from her leg in time with her heartbeat. It couldn’t have been just a few seconds since the explosion and already her leg was drenched in a thick coating of her own blood.

With dull fascination, she saw that her leg had already begun to mend. This was just too much. They’d barely made it two blocks before she’d been taken out of commission, at least until Brimstone’s magic did its job.

But the bone... The bone, as she saw before the tiny muscle fibers arched over the wound and started the healing process, had grown together improperly; she could feel a bone spur as the two halves grew together at an angle.

“What have you done to me?” she whispered to the darkness. Sweetie did not answer.

Gingerly, she tried to put her weight on the half-healed leg. More dark humor sprouted to her mind and she wondered what kind of conniption Redheart would have upon seeing her in such a state. Could I trouble you to look at this, doctors? See what I can do now! Let me borrow that knife. Oh, don’t fret, dearies; the bleeding’s stopped already. See! Stop laughing!

Tears accompanied her own mad giggles. Try as she might, the laughter bubbled up from the depths and even the cacophonous night wouldn’t silence the mad glee.

“Just do it, Rarity!” she told herself.

It wasn’t like pain could hinder her now anyway.

“Do it.”

She sat down.

“Do it now.”

Put her left leg on the fracture.

“Do it!”

Pushed.

“Do it!”

The bone snapped like a twig with only a sharp sting in her leg telling her she injured herself. From her bags came forth several of her iron needles. With a flick of magic from her horn, she removed some ribbons and securely tied them into a splint so the bone could heal properly. In a few short minutes it wouldn’t matter anyway, but mere seconds meant the difference between life and becoming the giggling corpse of a madmare.

Rarity got to her hooves. Only the faint buzz of pain from a wound that should have had her bleeding out greeted her. Goddesses, she hoped this wasn’t permanent.

She took a step towards her companion’s sanctuary only to discover that Pinkie and Bulk Bicep were already upon her. She had been lost in her attempt to mend the broken bone. They both looked at her with looks of shock and horror, the cascading rain making tears pour down their still faces.

She hoped that was rain.

Rarity stumbled to her hooves and took a moment to check Sweetie Belle again. She was bleeding slightly from a few minor shrapnel wounds, but otherwise okay; dry cloth would have been better, but Rarity took some cloth and did the best she could while stuck in the rain. The monster was either a lousy shot and missed her head and chest, or expected the blast to kill her outright. If she didn’t have Brimstone’s legacy running through her veins and boiling her blood, she would have bled out in minutes.

“I’m... okay.” A statement not helped by the involuntary giggle. Pinkie looked scared. Bulk Bicep looked ready to be sick.

A quick look was all she needed. Carrot Cake was on his hooves, but hemorrhaging from his chest. Pinkie was the same, if not quite so bad.

“We need to go. Now!”

She wanted—needed—to allay their fears about her. Fate and time were against them. The flower ponies were tending to Carrot Cake to the best of their ability, raw fear of death keeping them conscious. Cup Cake was screaming something. Somewhere above, the monster hissed.

Everything was beginning to fade in the thunder and rain. Pinkie was saying something as Rarity removed another bolt of cloth, needle, and thread and did her best to bandage Carrot Cake’s wounds. They had taken shelter in a collapsed house, and although she sensed the monster hovering about, no more explosions signaled the attack. Ponies fluttered in the sky. Why fluttering?

“Rarity!” Pinkie screamed in her face.

Need to work. Need to make everyone safe.

“You need to breathe!”

Rarity popped.

In this little, broken house Rarity felt another surge of bile in her throat. Rarity staggered to a corner and emptied her stomach. The scent of bile and ash, blood and rotten flesh, clogged her throat. All the tension, fear, and pain came flooding to the surface. The constant threat of death towards herself and Sweetie Belle, the endless fear, the dying in the streets.

There were bodies right behind her she hadn’t even seen upon coming inside. Bon Bon and Lyra, each clinging together in a terrified embrace, motionless as if there were sleeping.

She wanted the tears to come. Were they coming? Was that rain? Rarity’s stomach stopped heaving and she finally got her breathing back down to a stable level.

"I’mnotokayI’mnotokayI’mnotokay.”

“Deep breaths, Rarity,” Cup Cake said soothingly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be strong for everypony.”

She was stronger than everypony. She could tear an unprotected monster in half, rip each little leg off a spider and shove it down their throat.

Pinkie's soft and exceedingly drenched legs ensnared her. “Stop being so generous and worry about yourself, dummy.”

She wanted to cry. As hard as she felt like it, desired it, the tears wouldn’t come. Pinkie nuzzled the back of her head gently. She was not okay. Ponies were dying, her sister was possessed, evil infected the town like a plague, and so, so much was wrong right now! Brimstone’s task, as willingly taken as it was, seemed so monumentally impossible. Even if everything stopped right now, the damage was so catastrophic.

“It’s not my fault...”

“Shhhhh, we know, Rares.”

“...Is Mister Cake alright?”

“He’s fine. You’re doing just fine.”

The leviathan hissed and everyone inside winced. Again, Rarity heard the beat of wings through the sound of thunder and rain.

“...We can’t stay here, Pinkie.”

“I know.”

Mister Cake was being tended by the two flower ponies and Cup Cake. Bulk Bicep was standing guard with one eye watching the assembled ponies, pointedly avoiding looking at Rarity. Carrot Cake would live, but needed proper medical attention. That wound would bleed out if he wasn’t careful. Drying her nonexistent tears, Rarity stood tall and breathed a deep lungful of air.

“We need to leave and make it to the library, monster or no.” Should she say something more, some speech to raise morale? For the life of her she had no idea what to say. There was such a cocktail of emotions in Carrot Cake’s eyes that Rarity couldn’t even fathom a guess as to what he was thinking. Rose helped him to his hooves. He winced but could still support his weight. Red stained his chest, withers, and stomach. No one talked about Rarity’s incident, and for that she was grateful. As long as they could get to the library, there was a chance. Everypony just felt this inherent need to hurry, to rush forward, emotions be damned. No talking, no feeling, just moving.

They needed to go.

Rarity just hoped she wouldn’t break down again when the consequences could do some damage.

She once again lead the line out the door. She could hear the monster somewhere above, but at least not directly above, waiting for the squishy little ponies to leave. As soon as she left, the rest of the line raced out behind her like a bat out of Tartarus. The library was ahead. Not even two minutes away.

The monster hissed.

Wings again...

“Wa hoo!” shouted an oh so lovely voice. Rainbow Dash flew low, just skimming the surface of the rooftops like a bolt of lightning. Wings folded and flexed with an ease that only the fastest mare in Equestria could achieve. The withered creature shot bolt after bolt of deathly energy at the fleeing mare but she was far too agile. She dipped and dived, always staying one step ahead of the creature. Rarity was never more happy to see the mare.

Rainbow was alive! “Thank Celestia...”

“Fall back!” another voice screamed over the carnage. A second form cloaked in glittering armor darted down from the billowing clouds towards the beast while Rainbow beat her wings and disappeared into the night. Lightning blasted from the skies on the armored pony’s heels, but one thunderbolt arched too close to the library. The tree ahead was enveloped in light as the enchanted spire atop the tree collected pulled the lightning to its core. Tongues flashed so very close to the pegasus’ armored body. Rarity saw one in particular trail just a too far north and change path in mid air, right back to the pegasus. Bolt after bolt... wait, they were following him.

The pegasus—no, Rarity swore she could sense the taut, leathery wings of the Night Guard—flexed and weaved as lighting chased him across the heavens. He was no Rainbow Dash, but a soldier’s skill was on his side. One bolt cut a little too close and the acrid scent of burnt flesh was momentarily pushed onto the winds. Wound or not, that didn’t stop the solder as he smashed into the beast’s center head.

The screech resounded like a thousand talons raking across her brain. For a single, hopeful moment, Rarity thought the brutal skydive had vanquished the monster, but as the solder darted away into the skies, one of the beast’s heads turned and launched another attack. Now it’s attention was on him.

“Get over here!” Carrot Cake called out. Caramel, Thunderlane, and a mare Rarity recognized as one of the Apple’s many relatives followed a broad-chested stallion, likely an off duty Royal Guard. The Guard, a husky chestnut-colored stallion, ran parallel to their charge.

“Head to the library!” he called out to everypony.

As if that wasn’t obviously where they were headed already. The stallion pulled up beside Rarity and yanked out one of her spears with his teeth. Rarity bit back a snort; more war humor was dripping from the back of her mind and demanding he pay for it first.

Despite their increased numbers, they were going to be paying for sanctuary in blood. Already the library was getting swarmed by monsters despite the shimmering violet energy encircling the tree. Empty husks signaled an attacking force by the dozens. There were enough to even tear her part if she didn’t have her regenerative abilities. Lantern-like flames showed enough ponies outside combating the threat, while Rarity saw a good number huddled inside. There was a pony inside who shone like a bonfire that just had to be Twilight.

Guards and civilians alike had entrenched the library with makeshift barricades and sheer magic alone. Most were setting up bonfires and lighting torches, rebuilding barricades and carrying the wounded inside. The entire tree shined with illumination of every kind, pushing back the ethereal fog that hung heavy in the air. No monsters spawned from the revealed earth.

A soldier decorated in glimmering gold shouted and the barrier fell. Rarity prayed to whoever was listening that it was because they were seen.

Monsters scrambled forward as the barrier fell. A spider with a mounted skeleton rider crawled over the assembled monsters and fired pot shots at the defenders. The armored soldiers had little to fear, but the town ponies only had whatever ramshackle protection they could cobble together. Some arrows met their mark and screams filled the air.

Magic flashed ahead and the rider fell from its mount. Guards formed their phalanxes with regular ponies at their side. They needed help. They needed that barrier up now.

The soldier bit his lip and delivered a loud, shrill whistle. “We need to go right through! Rip right through their flanks and get inside! All civilians, fall back five paces and follow us through!”

Sounded good. That was right alongside her thinking anyway. “Pinkie!” she called. Pinkie accelerated to meet her on the left. She hesitated for only a moment before untying Sweetie Belle’s bonds. “Take Sweetie!”

Pinkie nodded and bumped flanks with her. Rarity secured the lashings with practiced ease. This time she did hesitate. “...Bring me back if I lose myself.”

The sad look Pinkie broke her heart but without a word, Pinkie nodded.

Rarity stampeded forward with the soldier and Carrot Cake quickly at her sides. The monster’s ranks were a good seven or eight deep. They’d see her group coming long before they got there, and even surprise wouldn’t be enough for a normal pony to punch through. Zombies and skeletons ruled the crowd with the the occasional spider. Whenever the soldiers spotted the flakey green monsters, however, they stopped what they were doing in order to destroy them even if it meant breaking the lines. There was only one robed combat mage and she looked burned out and dead on her hooves. The soldier closed ranks and pushed. They saw them coming and were going to punch a hole through the lines as best they could.

Kill them...

Head low, Rarity charged forward even ahead her two companions. Her blood boiled. Rip and tear. These monsters knew not love or pain, only to kill. She bared her teeth.

KILL THEM...

One block left. A bone crushed underhoof as she stampeded across the Void. One block left. Some of them turned to look.

They had no idea the hell she would unleash.

“Kill them...”

Rarity smashed through the lines with the force of a freight train. She felt pops in her legs and chest where no doubt some of her bones snapped at the contact alone. Some of them were armored. That didn’t matter. As soon as she lost momentum in the crumpled and flailing bodies, she reared onto her hooves and smashed through the skull of an unarmored zombie. It didn’t even twitch and it like its predecessors crumbled into ash.

Woven spider silk wrapped around a needle in a flash of periwinkle magic. Rarity stabbed it clear through the chest of another and shoved it forward. The needle went clear through with only the black offal clinging to the silver metal—no blood. Sheer kingly brutality fueled her dexterous but otherwise feeble magic. Back and forth it weaved until she had a small string of monsters stuck to each other with a material stronger than iron. Bringing it taut, she closed the loop and lashed them all together. Bound as they were in a material stronger than steel, each dumb zombie flailed on its own accord, none of them gaining any ground while their bonds held strong.

She felt the telltale pressure on her leg that signaled a wound far more egregious than it actually felt. She bucked wildly and her hooves connected with metal. It folded under the power she wielded and crushed the innards.

Headbutts and thrashes. She had weapons. If she ever ran out, she’d tear a hole through the horde with tooth and hoof. Bones regrew, wounds healed. Skeletons smashed and zombies slashed. Spiders skittered and ended up stomped under her hooves.

She could see everything in the Void; nothing could hide from her! The soul fire alone partitioned friend from foe. Her senses flared. Left. This one dimmed.

Rarity was thrown off her hooves as the ground erupted where the monster once stood. The little bugger managed to creep up on her! Ha! As if that alone would be enough to bring her down! The lights came.

She was tackled as she stumbled to her hooves but despite the momentum, Rarity did not fall again.

“Rarity!”

The lights encircled her, enough of them to yank her off her hooves and into their ranks.

Kill them...

“Rarity!”

Pinkie...

The magical shield fell once more, locking the majority of the monsters out. What few beasts made it inside were quickly finished off with no backup to help thin the numbers.

“Thank you, Pinkie.” The warm form of Pinkie got off and all but carried her inside.

Warmth. The air was crisp, clean, and carried the ever-present musk of books and parchment. Several lights—ponies— skittered about. Pinkie shut the door.

As if she were a marionette with her strings finally cut, she collapsed on the welcome mat. The fire was still in her blood. Every particle of her mind was ready to leave and run a marathon. Muscles were coiled, and bones were strong. She’d punch out a hydra and not even bat an eye.

She was so very tired. Unleashed god, angry king, destroyed homes, unconscious sister. Death and decay. Blood blinding her eyes. Her mind screamed to just shut down and cry.

Cry she did.

The ticking clock within her foretold Brimstone’s expired strength, but none of that mattered. She wasn’t even sure if it was Pinkie clutching her to their breast but the nearest pony wrapped their legs around her back. The hooves raked up and down her spine in the most gentle way. Unladylike. It was unladylike what she wanted to do.

Rarity sobbed and bawled. She cried for her ailing sister, the fallen king with all dear to his heart destroyed, the broken god compelled to rend. The senseless violence. The exchange. It hadn’t even been an hour and yet her life had been torn asunder.

She wasn’t sure how long she cried into the pony’s chest but she wasn’t given the slight reprimand. Back and forth went the hoof, ever comforting. Her wails died to sullen sobs and then just a slow trail of blubbering sniffles. Pinkie looked down on her, tears staining her own eyes.

“I-I,” she hiccuped, “I-I think I’m okay now, Pinkie.” The state she’d left her friend in, all covered in tears and snot on top of the sweat and soot made her reflexively pull a piece of cloth from her bags and offer it to the mare.

Pinkie chuckled lightly but accepted the offering. “Come on, Rarity. Let’s find Twilight.”

Horn alight, Twilight Sparkle wasn’t hard to find. She was bedraggled and tired, but far better off than Rarity felt on either the outside or the inside. The mare had been running races up and down the stairs, visiting each and every pony now crowding her domain while Spike distributed their meager supply of aid. The library was large, but even then, it was only scantily occupied on most days. Now that she had time to look around, she counted upwards of fifty or so ponies inside.

She wondered where the cakes were. Carrot Cake was speaking with the soldier who joined their party, while Cup Cake was busily attending to their children and his own wounds. Twilight ducked under an overhanging shelf, examined the children briefly, and then darted straight towards them.

“Thank Celestia you’re alright!” she exclaimed. “Wh—Rarity!”

She’d never hear the end about the eye, wouldn’t she, Rarity thought darkly to herself. “I know, I am absolutely hideous. I need a shower.”

That got another chuckle out of the sullen Pinkie Pie. They really needed old Pinkie Pie right about now.

“Rarity...”

“Can I pick your brain for just a few minutes, Twilight? There’s something I have to tell you.”

“It can’t be long,” she said quietly. Twilight looked her up and down. Her eyes widened after every passing inch. Rarity knew she was going to regret looking into a mirror. Huh. Now that she thought about it, it was much easier looking at the world through both her eye and new senses.

Practice makes perfect.

“Good. Lead the way.”

Pinkie untied Sweetie Belle but kept the little filly on her back. Rarity knew she was catching eyes and whispers as they followed Twilight. Some cried, some were fine and tasked with caring for the others. Most ponies were relatively unhurt. Pinkie’s wounds, now that Rarity got a good at them, were awful.

“Pinkie dearest!” A large portion of skin, nearly her withers to her flank on her left side, were striped of fur and an angry red. Lacerations arced back and forth where she too was caught in the floating creature’s foul magic.

“I’m okay, Rarity. Really.” Sweet, little Pinkie Pie. Always a constant beacon of cheer and wonder. Scarred for life.

She stopped in her tracks and removed needle, thread, and cloth. At the very least she could help stitch her up and prevent infection. As Twilight brought the trio to the upper balcony, Pinkie gratefully sat down and let Rarity continue with her task. It didn’t take long to finish up and Twilight even found a bottle of Granny’s special cider to help sterilize the wound. No doubt her own injuries were already sealed.

Pinkie shook her flanks to test the job. It was serviceable as long as the stitches didn’t tear. Deep breaths, Rarity. Both ponies were already waiting for her response.

Deep breaths...

“I know what is happening. This Herobrine figure was a god to a race of people very much like our Crafter friend, except after a time, he went mad and destroyed them. Only one is left. He told me half the story before we were interrupted. Sometime afterwards, he escaped and Herobrine was imprisoned. He also escaped, but he still carries a seal that locks away the majority of his strength. That is why he’s been skulking about, trying to steal the Elements of Harmony.”

And thus she filled them in on her conversation with Brimstone and the events up to their daring escape to the library. It wasn’t right seeing Twilight more expressive than Pinkie. She was normally so bubbly, always with something worth saying even at the worst of times. Twilight gasped, wrote notes on a conjured scroll, and even did something as mild as fidget. Pinkie was expressionless and unmoving.

“And then the attack came. Brimstone offered me some of his power so I could escape. I had no choice. I traded my eye in exchange. With it,” she looked at her own hooves, “I’ve been able to do so much, fight my way here. Still... I don’t know what he’s done to me.”

“You didn’t have a choice.” It was the first time Pinkie spoke up throughout the entire conversation. Rarity agreed—it was either that or death—but that didn’t make the option any better.

“I’d like to examine you at a later date, Rarity,” Twilight said slowly, “as time is not a resource to squander right now.”

Rarity nodded. “I agree. But right now, I needed to tell you about why Herobrine’s here right now, in town. He’s after us. All of our friends. If he cannot take the Elements himself, he is going to ensure that they cannot harm him. He... is trying to kill us.”

“Which would explain a lot,” Twilight added. “The vault in Canterlot wasn’t breached. It... makes a sick kind of sense.”

“Yes, it sadly does,” Rarity said. “If he cannot break his prison himself, he has taken up the duty of... um, “taking care” of those that can use it against him.”

“This Brimstone. He believes the Elements can stop him?”

“Indeed.”

“Where is he? I would like to talk to him.”

That was the one thing Rarity left out of her explanation. Was Brimstone still in Sweetie’s sleeping mind? The first and last of the original Crafter race was sleeping dormant atop Pinkie’s back, scuffed but alive? Would it be alright to tell Twilight? What would Brimstone do if he found out? He could escape, but could he know, weakened as he was?

Regardless, he’d be a hair’s breath from Sweetie Belle’s defenseless mind...

“Meaniepants doesn’t have a body. He could be anywhere!” True indeed, Pinkie. True indeed. She still needed to leave Sweetie somewhere. The library was as safe as it was going to get. Brimstone or not, Sweetie had to stay.

“I don’t believe he is in any state to answer questions after...” Rarity’s hoof drifted to her empty eye socket. “Right now the most important part is to stay out of sight. Herobrine’s target is us. Brimstone claimed he had set defenses in motion.”

“That would explain the flare as well,” Twilight said and jotted down a few more notes on her scroll. Her eyes went up and down her notes. “That was a high yield burst. It consumes a lot of magic, but it’d punch through just about any barrier. Princess Celestia would be able to feel it from Canterlot. The only question is where is Princess Luna?”

“Likely dueling the cur herself.” Luna the war mare. “There is also some kind of monster in the skies. Three heads attached to a torso. It seems to be much stronger than the others.”

“It aligns with the reports I’ve heard from the soldiers outside.” Twilight nodded in affirmation. “My theory is that this Herobrine created the monster to harry Princess Luna while he looked for us. She would pose the biggest threat, but her subordinates are trying to fight it.”

Their ears perked as a loud, shrill whistle pierced the walls. Twilight’s scroll vanished in a flash along with the glow around her horn. She all but dove downstairs and peered out the nearest window. It was time for Rarity to get back to work as well.

“Pinkie, I’ll take Sweetie Belle now.” Rarity carefully embraced Sweetie in a gentle hoof. “I’ll find a place to lay her down.”

There was something else that had been bugging Rarity, something that needed to be said for quite some time. “Are you going to be okay?”

Pinkie only needed a few seconds to respond. “I really don’t know.”

Rarity gave her a nuzzle. It wasn’t much, but it’d have to do. “They need you, Pinkie. Even if it is only one, solitary laugh, they’re going to need your help in order to pull through this.”

The mare smiled weakly. “I’ll do my best. Pinkie Promise. Just stay safe.”

“Pinkie Promise.”

“♫~Cross my heart, hope to fly.

Stick a cupcake in my eye!”

The two of them giggled at the childish jingle. Lightened spirits, however small the progress, was good enough. Rarity hugged the mare. “I love you, Pinkie.”

“I love me too.” There’s the Pinkie she knew.

The two parted, fresh moisture in their eyes. Pinkie nodded and slowly walked downstairs. It was time to cure some crying children.

Twilight’s bed was taken, but an ever-helpful Spike cleared off a couch for her ailing sister. She expected the little drake to try to strike up a conversation in these dark times, but he was already off giving blankets to a fresh stream of refugees coming through the door.

Rarity set Sweetie down carefully and covered her with one of Spike’s blankets. So peacefully she slept. Sweetie had been marred and bled slightly from the attacks on the way. It wasn’t bad enough for immediate medical attention, but she cleaned and washed the wounds to the best of her ability now that she had dry supplies to work with.

Rarity nuzzled those locks once more. Remember this moment. On her back were her wits and enough weapons to keep her alive. This moment... remembering this, remembering that there was something to come back to was something to live for...

“I’ll come back for you,” Rarity whispered into her sister’s ear. “I promise.”

She kissed Sweetie’s forehead and still the filly slumbered. “And for you. Even if you do escape your own guilt, think about what is left waiting for you, fallen king. I know you are not afraid to die, but have something worth dying for.”

Rarity parted from the embrace.

Pinkie and Twilight were safe.

Rainbow was with soldiers.

That left Fluttershy and Applejack.

Deep breaths...

She walked down the stairs. One of the soldiers devoid of armor was recovering on the floor. She gave him the remaining number of spears. She wouldn’t need them. An off duty Nurse Coldheart received her remaining needles and thread. The front door was before her.

“Rarity, what are you doing?” Twilight cried out. Her horn was alight once again. “You can’t go out there!”

“I have to!” Rarity screamed. Twilight's ears folded back as she stared at her. The twinkling of moisture clung to the corners of her eyes. “I have to... I am scared, Twilight. I am so very scared. I am scared that if I stop for even a moment, I am going to just shut down. As long as I can help somepony, if I keep going forward, I know I’m not going to curl up and cry.”

The buzzing library had gone silent. Soldiers and civilians alike watched and waited. “I can do this.”

Twilight stood there with her mouth open. What was there left to say? A plea to remain safe? Begging to stay? Rarity crept toward the door.

“Let her go, Twi.” Pinkie whispered.

“I’ll come back. I swear it, Twilight.”

The first drop rolled across Twilight’s cheek. Choking back sobs and words, she nodded. “Please come back.”

“I will.”

Before her nerve could fail her, Rarity turned around. There was a little mirror next to the door that gave Rarity her first real look at herself. Her hair was matted and messy, split ends and rats nest everywhere with a large chunk burned off. Blood, most of it her own, was smeared across the majority of her body with several rivulets carved by the rain. Fresh scars marked her regenerated wounds.

Her left leg was completely drenched and she discarded the impromptu splint. The skin had sealed and the bone underneath was bumpy, but serviceable. Parting her mane away from her face, she saw the most significant damage. She tentatively opened her eyelid. Nothing but a blank, empty socket stared back at her.

She turned around. Ponies. She’d known most of these ponies her entire time in Ponyville. Even some of the soldiers were familiar faces. They were scared, wounded, and frightened. Pinkie was scarred across half her body. Carrot Cake may end up crippled after everything was settled.

Two lives saved.

No.

The twins, Sweetie, Cup Cake, the flower ponies, Bulk Bicep, Thunderlane, Caramel, Brimstone, the soldier, and the Apple.

Fourteen lives saved.

She could do this. She’d gladly pay Brimstone’s price all over again.

“Deep breaths...” It’d almost become a matra tonight.

With that, Rarity opened the door.

Soldiers continued to rebuild their meager barricades in the rainy night. Most of it was constructed from timber scavenged from broken homes or scrap metal and held up with sturdy piping. Even the sign for Golden Oaks was repurposed for the defenders. The white mane of Ambrosia flittered about along with some of her work crew. Rarity passed a soldier holding up a nearly unconscious mage who was being helped inside. The poor dear had burned herself out during the few but hectic seconds whenever Twilight’s shield fell.

“Corporal Striker, ma’am.” The glittering soldier she saw before approached her and saluted. “Appreciate the spears. They’ll be savin’ some lives tonight.” The armorless guard she encountered was currently partitioning the weapons to the assembled ponies.

“Have to say, haven’t seen no mare fight quite like that.” There was something in his voice she couldn’t identify. Concern? Apprehension? “But what you doin’ out here? Get inside, ma’am. Not safe.”

This would be considerably harder given her current physical condition, but it was worth a shot. “I am dreadfully sorry, Sir Striker. However, I have only a few moments time. Ponies inside along with myself are wondering what you can tell us about these creatures. We’ve all been through a taxing ordeal, and any explanations, however irrelevant to survival, will ease my mind.”

She gave her tail and eyelashes a flick. It would have looked more impressive if it weren’t raining and she hadn’t been blown up twice. Striker narrow his eyes, but responded nevertheless.

“We’ve received reports of seven different creatures so far.” Seven? “Four are in the crowd right now.”

Striker motioned to the barrier. By Celestia, they were making a racket. The skeletons’ bones clattered and the spiders made some squeaking hiss, but the zombified bipeds were making no end of noise. The green creature, however, was completely silent. The skeletons and undead at least slightly resembled the Miner, but this one was different. With four short, stubby legs, it weaved back and forth on its stalk-like body, it’s dry and crunchy-looking skin looking quite fragile. It just stared at her, unblinking...

“Them spider buggers are fast enough and like to jump. I’ve been seeing them crawl all up over buildings myself. Thank Celestia for small mercies as they’re not poisonous. The skeletons are archers; haven’t seen none with swords, but on and off they’re armored. Quite a few are crack shots. Lost two bucks already. Shot right out of the sky.”

“My condolences.”

Striker only nodded. “Them other standing buggers are the footsoldiers and meat shields. Pretty tough, but rock stupid. Get in numbers ‘n they’ll take down anypony, though. They’re attracted to smell, I think. Impossible to sneak up on the buggers. Pretty much all are armored and armed to some extent.

“But those green, creeping bastards are the worst. Don’t make no sound at all. Completely quiet. Soon as they crawl up yer ass, the goddamn vermin explode. Suicide bombers.”

That was something to watch out. It’d also explain what blew her up on the way inside. Strange, to be thinking about getting wounded so dearly in such a casual manner.

“I’ve seen a monster in the skies. A creature withered to the bone.”

He nodded again. “I’ve advised me men to stay away from that thing at all costs. Captain Hawk and the rest of Luna’s guard were engaging it last I heard. Don’t know how they’re fairin’. Don’t have the men or time to find out.

“On the way here my troop encountered some small things. Vermin. Little insects or some such come right out of the ground. Silver little things. Good stomp kills them, but they’re fast and come in packs.

“Last is some kinda giant gel. Skin’s acid. Took a mage to bring it down. They’re big buggers, but slow. Don’t see much to stop them outside o’ magic; spears went right through it. Our mage had to blast it to bits, and even then the bits were movin’.”

Rarity nodded. Seven monsters, plus Herobrine. The Wither and the god were going to be targets to stay away from. All others were fair game. Well, there could be others about. Best to keep a sharp eye.

“Thank you, corporal. Most informative.”

He nodded. “Glad to help. You best get inside. Got a scouting party headin’ back soon.”

“Apologies, but I will be leaving.”

Striker was preparing to see to his forces but that got him turned around real quick. She didn’t give him the chance. “Twilight!”

The librarian’s face was poking at the window before she even finished the call. “Let her l-leave, corporal,” her voice cracked.

“Sorry, ma’am, I can’t in good conscience allow th-.”

“By my authority, by House Sparkle and the authority granted to me by Princess Celestia, I order you to give her an opening to leave at the next opportunity.”

A soldier hardened by combat stared down a mildly overweight bookworm. Seconds passed. Rarity heard their heartbeats race in their chests. Striker was grinding his teeth, while Twilight was breathing slowly and deeply just to not pass out.

Striker spoke so slowly and clearly his accent vanished. “...As you wish, My Lady. But I will insist she leaves when we are able to afford an opening, no sooner.”

“Acceptable,” Rarity interjected in hopes that Twilight would not push the issue.

Twilight looked at her, her features trembling. “Agreed.” Rarity heard Twilight sniff and close the window. Rarity cursed her senses for allowing her to hear crying behind walls.

Striker stood by her side, clearly unhappy with this turn of events. “Understand that my priority is savin’ lives, ma’am. I object to this.”

“You do not need to worry about myself, corporal.” Rarity breathed deeply. Her heart didn’t seem to want to cooperate with her and thudded a mile a minute.

“I don’t.”

She blinked. That wasn’t what she expected. He continued, “I saw you fight your way in. Saw your wounds.” Or more likely, the lack of any. “‘m not concerned with you being able to fight your way out. I am worried about the ponies under my care that will get hurt when that time comes.”

He reached a hoof around her withers and pulled her head close. Her skull banged against his helmet and his eyes bored into hers. “You remember that.” He let her go and cantered off to see to the fortifications, leaving Rarity alone in the rain.

The next scouting whistle didn’t take long, but Rarity took the time to mull over her next moves. Finding and helping Fluttershy and Applejack took precedence over everything. Twilight’s words on the flare gave a tantalizing hint that Princess Celestia may join the fight, but even if she could hazard the flare’s meaning, it would take her precious time to get to Ponyville. Could Spike’s dragonfire reach through the oppressive Void? No doubt Twilight had already sent a dozen letters to her mentor, but would Herobrine have taken that into account?

There was no telling. Hopefully at least the flare did its job. Fighting Herobrine or the Wither was out of the question. That left rescuing two more friends, and getting the Miner into the fray.

Applejack or Fluttershy?

Applejack or Fluttershy?

“Deep breaths...”

She could do this. She had the will, and the ability.

Applejack was closer, but she was also off road. It would be bad terrain for a fight. Fluttershy, although close to the Everfree and farther away, had a straight shot to town. All things equal, AJ seemed to be the best bet. She’d have more trouble reaching town, it was closer, and had her kin to protect. Monsters would be near no matter which direction she picked.

However... Perhaps there was door number three. It would take longer to reach Applejack in the end, but she could get to them both in less total time. If she headed to the encampment and requisitioned a task force to rescue one or the other—both if fortune was kind, both friends would get the aid they needed. Captain Barricade would have no trouble believing her especially if Fluttershy was threatened. Two parties instead of one would save a lot of time, and she could possibly get the Miner to come with as an added bonus.

It was the best plan she had. She got up and pawed the ground as the marshalled ponies prepared themselves to receive another group.

“Listen up!” Corporal Striker shouted. “New rules this time around! Not only are we receiving another group, we’ve got a pony here set to leave. She has her orders on what to do once she’s out.”

Striker narrowed his eyes at her for just a moment and continued to shout to be heard over the rain, “This is going to punch a hole in our defenses just a little longer than normal, so it’s up to our guest to tear a hole through these wankers to the best of her ability on her way out.”

Rarity nodded in agreement with the assembled ponies. Some ponies looked at her and the corporal nervously, unsure how to object to this new event. “Our mage is K.O.ed and until she recovers, so all we have for defenses are what we’ve built up and Miss Sparkle’s shield. We’ve got spears up top,” he nodded his head towards the tree branches just shy of the lightning rod, “and they’ll be providing some aerial support against the exploding assholes. No pegasus is to take to the air unless they absolutely have to. You go higher than five meters or leave the shield’s range, it’s your ass.

“After our friend here leaves, we’ll be receiving wounded and support. It won’t be any longer than three minutes, but a lot can happen quickly. Pucker up those assholes, everypony, and don’t hold back. If you haven’t already, find your inner shitbag and let that fucker go wild because this might get a little nasty.”

Rarity took point between two barricaded points, one of the defender’s killzones for creatures. That was a mild problem because it was also a path that the scouting party needed to enter the library.

She dug herself in as best as she could in preparation. The monsters had already replenished their numbers. Everywhere she looked outside of Twilight’s shield was a solid wall of writhing bodies. A solid wall of enemies, armor, and arms.

She got in. She could get out.

“On my mark! Miss Rarity! Miss Twilight!” Striker shouted.

She could catch the sound of stampeding hoofsteps. They were close. Some pony whistled. Rarity cracked open that door in the back of her mind.

Kill them...

“Mark!”

Rarity’s hooves dashed forward. She almost believed Twilight wouldn’t drop the shield until it fell just shy of her snout. She was set upon immediately.

Rarity had precious little room for a proper bull rush, but even the first four ranks buckled under the weight of her charge. Dull monsters slashed their blades at her; there was so little room to duck and weave in the crowd. Pain cut up her legs, withers, and face. Her skull impacted a skeleton and smashed the bone, but the beast didn’t go down. A quick thrust of the hoof smashed the monster against the armored chestpiece of an attacking zombie.

Utilizing her best weapons, Rarity flung her weight forward onto her forehooves and bucked with all her might. Even with armor, she felt the crunch of bone under her hooves. Gemstones flashed from her bags like bullets. More needles pierced flesh and crushed bone. Even the sheer strength of her own four hooves were enough to smash any advantage their armor would grant them. Beasts with sunken, milky eyes lashed out. Fletching cut through the air. Her flesh was pockmarked in seconds but she didn’t even feel that. All that was there was that moment, the heat of battle.

She would have gotten turned around in the crowd if it wasn’t for her unnatural sight. She could see the solid blaze of life coming from inside and the narrow stream cutting their way to her. Rarity bit into an offending limb and yanked, dislocating the zombie’s sword arm. The filth it left in her mouth made her regret the action. The sword dropped, but that wasn’t she was interested in. Her weapons were all but depleted, but getting out of the crowd was more important.

It took all of her willpower to suppress that killing urge. It had its purpose, unnaturally granted to her or not, but she needed to force an opening. Using that one crippled zombie as a shield, she shoved the monster forward through rows of monsters. The sound of arrows striking flesh made her gag. She wasn’t even sure if it was her own or the monsters shooting their comrade.

Rarity’s heart jumped into her throat. One of the Sneakers had entered the fray. It’s patchy surface looked more like plantlife than skin, yet she still saw it undulating little by little. It was going to explode right in her face. A lone spear come flying through the air and cut into the monster’s lower torso. It did not go down. Rarity could swear she saw flames in the back of its empty, black throat.

Mere instinct though it was, Rarity yanked back on the monster supposed to be her battering ram and forced it in front of her as the Sneaker erupted. Rarity was once more thrown for a loop as all semblance of gravity and pain vanished until she hit the ground hard. At least she was still alive.

She got up in time to see the results of her labor. Not many monsters fell in her brawl. She really needed to learn how to properly fight one day, even if it was to deal with all of the normal Everfree nonsense. The Sneaker’s explosion did do a fair number on the attackers. Already the scouts and a hoofful of ponies were fighting their way inside through the path she carved.

Groaning, Rarity struggled to get up. She was covered in slashes and arrows. Her ears rang from the explosion, a reminder that she’d been blown up quite enough for one day. The left side of her face and chest had been pockmarked by the explosion, but the wounds had already started the healing process. At least she didn’t have to reset any bones again.

Getting up caused her to fall flat on her face. Right. The arrows. Reaching around with her teeth, Rarity plucked a total of three arrows sticking from the thigh muscle. The sickening sound of tearing flesh made her dry heave against the shaft pressed to her teeth. One of the shafts broke in her death grip so it was up to a pair of needles to pry out the arrowhead.

By the time she came to her senses and hooves, the barrier was already back up, but monsters had set their sights on her formerly stylized tail. In the corner of her eye she saw Twilight’s face pressed against the window with relief and terror on her face. She caught Striker’s eye monetarily and he gave her a cool nod.

Time to leave. She didn’t see and more Sneakers, but she had far too much experience with them already. Her enhanced senses made their silence advantage moot, but they’d intermingled in crowds enough to make them difficult to spot before it was too late. What were the Miner’s names for them? Did he even tell anypony yet? Rarity wasn’t sure anymore. Sneaker would have to do.

The encampment was south of town, the same path she took from Sugarcube Corner. There was no time to waste. The soldiers were more than capable of finding survivors, and the precious few she could find on her route had already been marshaled to the library. Rarity poured every iota of energy she had into her legs and charged south.

Quills and Sofas passed in just a moment. Rarity slowed down and perked her ears for and signs of the Wither when she passed the destroyed Fountain. Where had it gone? Did the Luna’s guard and Rainbow Dash vanquish the beast? Even with her enhanced senses, Rarity could not make heads or tales of what happened after their daring escape from the monster.

“Form ranks!”

A small scouting party charged toward her. Surely they believed no pony in their right mind would willingly run from sanctuary and that she was another form of beast haunting the night. Of course they realized their folly in a few short seconds, and after that attempted to bring her along to the library, but her destination was set. She updated them on the most recent events while under the eyes of her neighbors and friends, and she set off.

Her only remaining weapons were her wits, eight needles, and a few bolts of cloth for entanglement. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do to make it to the encampment. A spider was drawing itself from the earth just ahead of her, the same foul muck coating its scuttling limbs. Rarity took a good leap and stomped the beast with all of her dainty weight. The creature convulsed, but was still alive.

“Ha! I am not fat, Applejack!” Nevertheless, another well-placed stomp to its skittering, furry skull ceased its resistance.

“Ewwwww,” she bemoaned and scraped the black gunk and mud buildup off her hooves. Monsters turned to ash upon death whereas this foul sludge stuck around afterwards. Monsters popped up from the ground like dandelions, but Rarity took them out whenever she could spare it.

Buildings flashed by with her unearthly stamina demanding she run herself to exhaustion. The sad and dark Sugarcube Corner, the clocktower burning and looking ready to fall, and town hall were in various states of disrepair. She contemplated returning home for a few more impromptu weapons, but she had made due so far. Her destination lay south and she would get there as fast as she could.

Her eyes caught something just out of her field of vision. Something moved, something far faster than it had a right to be, and vanished. She followed it as best as she could. She swore it was in the building across the street from her. She didn’t sense any monsters, although she was pretty sure...

“There!”

Monsters shined like empty shells, hollow and reminding her of lost potential. The soulfire of ponies was bright and lively, with some like Twilight surpassing them in splendor. This... this was nothing. It wasn’t just a lack of soulfire, but a dark, deep void of nothingness that blinked into existence and vanished.

Rarity almost missed it. A monster’s soulfire present in the room before the darkness came died out as it left. Eyes sharp, Rarity slowed her pace and watched the remaining houses as she cantered by. Walls meant nothing to her sight. Soon another patch of soulfire was snuffed out as the darkness reaped its bounty once again.

“...It’s killing them.”

Did the ponies have an ally? Was that Brimstone? No, it couldn’t be. He was far too feeble to help. Herobrine, perhaps? Unlikely. He would have no just cause killing his own creatures in such a cloak and dagger manner. Rarity watched another monster fall to the darkness before it teleported away.

Teleported...

The Farlander...?

The Miner ascribed the shadowkin as considerably more wily and difficult to slay than most, but monsters nevertheless. She hadn’t heard of any instance where it would actively seek out other monsters to slay.

Something exploded, and for once Rarity wasn’t in the blast. Putting the issue behind her, Rarity ducked behind an overturned produce cart and took a quick peek. Lightning lit the sky and what it revealed was something right out of legends of yore. Princess Luna herself, bloodied but not beaten, wings parted like an angry god, raised a hoof and arched the lightning towards her blazing horn. Her eyes were equally alight, but rather of mystical hues, they were of solid white.

Luna flashed forward, lightning arcing off her wings in thunderous armor. Herobrine himself, eyes piercing the darkness in white light, awaited her in the skies as if gravity was only a bother. The Void rolled off of him in constant waves and choked the skies. Lightning flashed—be it magic or not, Rarity didn’t know—and even that did not pierce the shadowy curtain. Great white chains of holy light wrapped around his form, utterly unshakable while they remained spiked into his flesh.

The two collided in air with such force that Rarity’s teeth chattered. Glass shattered and she heard collapsing buildings in the distance. The two parted, each appearing to be completely unharmed by the exchange.

Herobrine brought both palms together. The pouring rain and billowing fog focused in his hands, defying gravity. For a moment the sky lost its will to cry as the god collected water in his grasp. Rarity must have blinked, because one moment she beheld a ball of water the size of a pony, and the next is was a dripping ball of molten rock.

He thrust a hand forth. A thick tongue of superheated stone burst forth. Luna’s horn flashed and she was quickly armored in an arcane shield. Magma enveloped her shield with little droplets falling to the earth little by little. Rarity would have worried about fire if the rain wasn’t so heavy.

Herobrine’s hand clenched into a fist and the lava began to collapse. The shield buckled but held. Rarity didn’t have to worry about her liege’s safety for long as a burst of magic shattered her shield and flung the magma to the four winds. Gobs struck the earth, this time some of them large enough to start fires of their own.

Shadows erupted for Luna’s body. That was all Rarity could describe it as. Shadows. Even the flash of lightning did nothing to illuminate what powers Luna wielded. Eating light or not, they were solid enough to slash through the air with enough ferocity that she was rapidly gaining ground. Herobrine drifted backwards and pointed at Luna. Lightning cut towards Luna, and the very air in Rarity’s lungs was knocked out with the boom of thunder. Darkness cut through the light and Luna was shielded from the assault.

Rarity heard a blood-curdling hiss she had come to know quite well in such a short period and dove under the cart until she was hidden from sight. The Wither had come. Rarity felt more than saw the hellish magic erupt from each head and Luna screamed. Taking another quick peek, Rarity saw Luna drop from the skies before catching herself on a gale. She was alive, but far from well.

Herobrine turned to leave the fight, but Rarity’s heart lept with joy and fear as she saw a rainbow stream soar like lightning itself across the sky. A fair-sized brick smashed into its center head, followed by another cannonball run from another Night Guard. The Wither screeched so loudly it made Rarity want to claw out her soul. Why make such an abyssal creature?

Three more members of the Night Guard were on their heels but made no further attempt at assaulting the monstrosity. They flew together and in synch, one member turning and each following member mimicking the aerial ace perfectly. Of one mind they were, their task being performed with no wasted movement or decrease in speed. They followed Rainbow Dash and their brethren into the billowing clouds with the Wither hot on their tail.

Herobrine turned to deal with the new threat, but by then Luna herself had reentered the fray. Luna flapped her wings once, twice, and then a third time towards Herobrine. Rarity was almost thrown off her hooves as a windstorm stronger than anything she had seen before smashed through the air. Rooftops, stone, dirt, water, and even gouts of flame surged forth. Her own cart and lifted into the air and it was all she could do to claw at the dirt to stay grounded. As all four hooves left the earth, Rarity was prepared to scream for her life until the air was once again cut by a thunderous explosion to make her teeth rattle in her skull.

She wanted to help, despite Brimstone’s words, but seriously—how!?

She was tossed through the air and landed on all four hooves by sheer fate. Rarity didn’t look back and ran for her life. There was no way, despite her new gifts, that she could aid her dear friend and princess in this fight.

The consistent splashing of her hooves on the muddy earth. Her power held true and she broke nary a sweat on her path. Where houses were closer together in Ponyville, soon they became fewer and farther in between. As she crested the hill, she saw the encampment itself.

Whoever was still in charge seemed to agree that light, no matter how little, helped prevent the monsters from spawning; it worked for the Crafter after all. Great bonfires littered the camp along with the standard magical lighting. It was strange to see the rain part across a giant, invisible dome over the tents, but it was one of the few things that might have spared them some major casualties. She wasn’t sure if Herobrine himself was controlling the elements, but lightning strikes were an ingenious way to take down pegasi.

As she got closer, she could see without a doubt that all was not well. While the magi might have prevented the weather from hindering them, the same barrier did not stop the Void Fog. Fires and screams, although less than Ponyville, rang through the air. Despite the surprise, Rarity could see the discipline and ranks at work repelling the invaders as they appeared. A large force of earth pony troops had assembled in the northernmost section of the base. Perhaps they were ready for a counterassault?

Rarity ran into the base without a pause, the sudden lack of beating rain a godsend; she really needed a good shake of her fur and mane in addition to several hours at the spa. She knew from her time with the Crafter where the senior officers held their meetings. No pony stopped her. The base reminded her of one of Fluttershy’s beehives; everyone and everything had a role to place and did so without question or complaint. She received a few glances, some even glares, but not a one objected to her presence. Taking one final turn, Rarity scampered towards Site Command.

...Only to be blocked by two guards who were imposing enough to call dealing with ponies high on Rampage a “light exercise before breakfast”.

“Ma’am, no civilians or—”

“Oh, come on!” Rarity screamed in exasperation. Cleaning up her act and being a proper lady helped her raise Sweetie Belle, but now those old habits were seeping through the cracks. “I’ve fought my way through Ponyville and then back out. I do not particularly care what orders you may or may not have been given. I. Need. To. Speak. To. The. Captain!”

To their credit, the guards were utterly unperturbed by her outburst. She was supposed to be a dolled up mare used to attending the ball. She was now soaking wet, her mane and tail burnt and cut in several places, scarred in several more, and missing an eye. One of the guards was about to say something before the tent flap flung open.

A handsome, middle aged stallion with glasses peered out the door. He wore the robes of a member of the Council of Magic, but recent experience with Twilight and the Miner was enough to put a name to the face. “Professor Incantus!”

“Miss... Rarity, is it?”

Latching onto the lifeline before she could be escorted away, Rarity said, “I come bearing new of the town and of Princess Luna!”

There wasn’t much in terms of news concerning Luna, but at the very least she could tell the senior officers what she was doing and where she last saw the princess. Hexxus Incantus chewed over her words for a moment before saying, “Come inside.”

The tent was warm and well lit. A large table had been cleared of its contents and a map of Ponyville and the surrounding terrain had been placed on its surface. Rarity guessed the pins dotting the parchment had some military meaning. Several ponies looked up upon seeing her enter. She knew a few, but most were lower rung officers and noncommissioned troops. She recognized Captain Barricade and Doctor Hemos right away, both of them now decked out in full combat barding. A very broad-chested stallion bearing the rank of Second Lieutenant clung near the captain’s side; Rarity swore she’d seen him around before but couldn’t place the name. She expected to find the Archmage present, but the decrepit mare was nowhere to be seen.

“Miss Rarity. What a surprise, but we are quite busy and don’t have time,” Barricade droned out without even looking up from her task.

“Rarity here brings news of the princess,” Hexxus said.

That got her attention. Barricade put down her notes and looked at her with a glare that said Rarity would be chewing razorblades if she wasted her time. Barricade didn’t even bat an eye at her wrecked and wounded state. “Oh? Do tell.”

For the second time that night Rarity relayed her tale, but kept the details concerning Brimstone to herself. Barricade sighed in relief once Rarity got to Luna’s portion of the tale. Strangely it wasn’t Luna being alive and well and dueling Herobrine that interested the captain, but whatever scrap of information she had on the Wither itself.

“That’s Captain Hawk without a doubt,” she said after she finished the details concerning the fight. “He’d fight beside the princess to his last breath; death would have to take him in his sleep if he wanted anything close to a fair fight out of that old goat.” She shook her head, the slight smirk she had quickly dying. “Anything else of note?”

“Nothing after I snuck away from the battle.” Now came the hard part.

“You do me a great service, Miss Rarity. I won’t forget this, and your intel’s certainly of use. I’ll have one of my men escort you to the servant’s quarters; it’s been fortified and lit up to be our stronghold.”

Barricade nodded and one of the lurking guards stepped forth. It was now or never. “Misses Barricade! I mean, Captain! There is something else. A theory, mind you.” Wait, that wouldn’t do. She couldn’t count on Barricade’s maternal instincts alone if by chance they were short on ponies to help. This needed to be worth their time. She added, “I am certain I know why Herobrine is here.”

The other soldiers had been talking quietly among themselves. Rarity was sure they intended to be discreet with their conversations, but she still caught talk about renewed strategies, suspicion of her tale, and the like. Now they all, Barricade included, paused for her to elaborate.

“It was the events after the brief attack on Canterlot vault that got me thinking. If this Herobrine ruffian wished to utilize the Elements of Harmony for some nefarious purpose, but could not collect them, would he not ensure they could not be used against them? Out of all the places he could have attacked, he chose one of the few with a nearby garrison. I don’t think he is after the town, or even Princess Luna. I believe he is after... us. The Bearers themselves.”

Rarity let her words hang in the air. All was quiet, but she could see the emotions flash across Barricades face. It was so very slight and the only response Rarity saw the massive mare give, but her eyebrows rose ever so slightly. She reached the same conclusion as Rarity wanted her to find.

“Twilight and Pinkie Pie are at the library, Rainbow Dash is with Captain Hawk, and here I am. I requisition a task force to help protect Applejack and Fluttershy.”

The burly stallion was the first to speak. “Your logic is reasonable and sound.”

“Can we spare the forces, Skylar?” Hemos asked.

Skylar nodded. “A small task force apiece. I can spare two teams of four.”

Barricade nodded. “Make it happen. Rarity, show him where to find them.”

Rarity pointed out both houses on the map. Skylar saluted and quickly exited the tent. Tried to, anyway.

Noise. Rarity only just heard it as Skylar prepared to run off. The tent flap burst open and everyone flashed to readiness a hair before Rarity. Just as quickly as they readied, Skylar and Rarity both parted as a form was tossed into the tent. The Miner flew ass over teakettle before landing with a hard thud before the group. He was armored from head to toe and the blade that fell at Barricade’s hooves was stained with ash and blood.

“Finally!” exclaimed a pony. A bat pony cleared the tent right behind him despite the two guards muscling into the tent, her armor smoking and acrid with the stench of sulphur. “Sorry for the delay. I had to pick up a passenger. Had to drag his ass here from the mess hall.” Spotting Barricade, the bat pony added, “We’re getting swarmed from the ground, not the sky or any particular direction, Captain. It’s the fog.”

“As we have concluded ourselves, second lieutenant. We appreciate bringing our most honored guest, but care to explain yourself?” With her armor, Barricade positively towered over the Night Guard.

If the bat pony was kowtowed by the demand, she didn’t show it. She shook herself and light whiffs of smoke puffed from the seams in her armor. The Miner himself was very pointedly glaring at her at having been unceremoniously tossed pass the two walking meat lockers outsider. His diamond armor was smeared with mud and gore along with the ashy substance of slain beasts. They must have had a tough time making it here if the crack in his chest piece was of any indication. He waved at Rarity.

“Was about to start my shift before the attack went down and I figured what all the lightning meant. Raised the alarm, rounded up the mute, and fought our way here. Figured you’d like to know where he is.”

The only react her bluntness earned out of the captain was a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure you had quite the experience, Lightning Chaser.”

Barricade walked around the table and faced the Miner. He had conjured a loaf of bread and was snacking before he caught her eye. Stuffing the rest down his throat in the most undignified manner possible, he looked at Barricade hesitantly and tilted his head to the side.

“Want to kill some monsters?”

Wait, what? Rarity fully expected Barricade to not let him out of her sight, let alone out of the base.

The Miner flinched, looked outside, looked back towards the captain, and then pointed out the front door. “Yes, I want to send you out in that.”

“Captain? Skylar interrupted. “A brief word?”

She let him chew over her words while his babysitter tried to get her armor to stop smoking. What were whispers on the other side of the room on a stormy night were caught easily with her ears.

“Are you sure this is wise, letting him go like that? With Princess Luna’s suggestions as to why he’s here?”

The princess knew why the Miner was here?

“I’m taking the chance. If she’s right, then there’s nothing to do about it. If you can’t stop the arrow from firing, at least control where it’s pointed.”

The two of them returned to the center of the room. Barricade looked on at their guest. “What say you, Miner?”

He gave the open door one more look. He leaked nervousness but nodded in agreement. “Very good. Private,” Barricade looked at one of the assembled soldiers, “please escort Miss Rarity to the servant’s quarters.”

“No!” Rarity protested. Surely the mare only meant well, but she was no going sit by! “As long as I am able, I will help my friends to the best of my ability! I fought my way out of Ponyville. I can fight my way back in.”

Rarity felt Hemos move towards her, but still jumped as he wrapped a leg around her neck comfortingly. “This is a military operation now, miss. Take no offense, but consider how our efforts might be hindered if we had to worry about you. I have no doubt that you will if it become necessary, but one mare alone cannot fight an army, and that is what we face. I assure you I will forward all reports I possess to you as I am made aware of them.”

She removed his leg. He did not resist. In fact, he seemed suddenly very interested in her if his heartbeat was any indication. She took a step away from the stallion. “Then I shall help thin the numbers until you get there.”

Barricade laughed, the first sign of genuine humor to squeeze itself out of the wreck of a night. “You have gall, Miss Rarity. I’ll give you that. Here I thought you were a nance like the rest of the Canterlot court.” She chuckled. “We can’t stop you if you want to leave and I’m not willing to spare any soldiers to babysit you and make sure you keep your hooves to yourself. Right now, we have to discuss strategy. You’re dismissed.”

Soldiers were set to help Applejack and Fluttershy and the Miner was on standby to fight. Brimstone’s plan might just work after all.

“Momma’s over here?”

Rarity’s ears perked up again. Movement. “Somepony’s coming.”

“Oh, what now?” Barricade groaned. Even without word from their superior, the accompanying guards moved towards the door.

A waft of flowers. Spices and salves. Earth and animal stench.

“Wait!” Rarity’s cry was too late. The potential of danger had clouded the mind of everyone present, a flag raised by her own tongue.

Something big and rolling with muscle swiped at the door flaps and one of the walking refrigerators outside flew into the tent and collapsed in a heap. A large grizzly with a buttery ball of fur on its back waddled into the tent, teeth bared a the assembled crowd.

“Harry Bearington!”

The bear was about to get dogpiled by no less than a dozen guards before they, and the named bear included, froze in their tracks at the intensity of that voice. The all-too familiar voice and tender little heartbeat atop Harry’s back sent a wave of relief through Rarity’s boiling blood. Fluttershy the pacifist, the gentlest creature in all of Equestria and so fearful of trauma she was scared of Nightmare Night, was riding a bear through a warzone.

“Sit down!”

The beast complied without question, even going so far as to lie down on all fours. Fluttershy wasn’t even all the way off he bear’s back before she was in Rarity’s hooves. That sweet scent, the smell of earth and woodlands. By the goddesses, the mare was never more beautiful than she was now.

“R-Rarity, you’re crushing me...” Rarity released the mare as the tears began to flow. Two guardponies that were between her and Fluttershy just a moment ago were picking themselves off the ground with looks of disbelief in their eyes. Hemos the doctor was looking at her with a neutral look. Barricade, on the other hoof, was looming over the pair of them.

Rarity didn’t even get a word out before she was shoved aside by the massive mare. For a split second, she swore Barricade was going to follow suit and hug her daughter. Holding up a hoof, she hesitated, and then wrapped a hoof around Fluttershy’s neck and leaned her head against her child’s.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Barricade’s voice cracked. The Crafter looked at the display of affection as silent as ever. Hemos opened his mouth, but Skylar put a hoof on his shoulder. Good. Rarity would have given him a few of her own choice words for not granting the captain this peace of mind.

“Right.” Barricade pulled away and composed herself. “Right. Lightning Chaser, step outside for a moment but don’t go anywhere; I need to talk to you in a moment. Stay with her, Miner.”

The mare nodded, saluted, poked at the Miner to follow her, and walked out. At least her armor stopped smoking. The Miner picked up his weapon and exited next.

“Fluttershy, I would love to have a chat, but there is very little time. I’ll have a few words with you, but please wait outside. Don’t go anywhere.”

Fluttershy looked like she was about to object before Rarity put a hoof on her shoulder. The shy mare forced the words down, swallowed, and nodded regretfully. She was about to put up even more of a fuss once she spotted Rarity’s missing eye, but Rarity silenced her with a quick, “Later, honey.”

Fluttershy walked outside. Rarity caught the smell of herbs. Strange. Some of the smells she’d only known to be from Zecora’s flat. Where was the zebra?

“Ahem, Fluttershy?” Fluttershy poked her head back in. “Erm, your friend here need not stay.”

Harry had not moved a centimeter since being given the command. “Oh! Um, Henry? I know you don’t like it here, but can you come outside please?”

The massive, shaggy creature got up onto his paws, his considerable weight shaking with every step. The guard Harry had knocked silly was only now getting up, having been forgotten by recent events.

“Holy shit, what hit me?”

“A fucking bear. Oh my god, even her daughter’s badass,” a guard in the corner whispered.

Barricade only smiled. “And for you, Miss Rarity. I know you’ll not take this lying down, so I’ll have a proposition for you in a moment. If not, I ask you to do what you have been doing. You know the town better than the rest of my men, so that knowledge will come in handy. I need a vanguard team for our defense of the town. Are you willing to take part in a task force of your own?”

A task force to help clear the town? Well, she had planned to go to either help AJ or dear Flutters. Given Fluttershy was fine, AJ would be getting the lion’s share of help now. What was left after that? Brimstone’s instructions did not extend beyond what she had already completed and simply surviving the night. What now?

“I accept.”

The smile that greeted Rarity was wide, but something lurked within her glee. Something primal and violent leaked behind those eyes, a mad sort of glee. For a moment Rarity wondered if that was what she looked like whenever she opened that door in the back of her own mind.

“Excellent.” Whatever it was, it was gone. “Step outside. I’ll have details for you in a moment. Everypony except senior officers, dismissed.”

Hemos and Barricade watched the pair go as they dismissed the remainder of their soldiers. Barricade thought of her daughter. She had just a few, precious moments with her. She didn’t even remember seeing any wounds on Fluttershy. Did she? Goddesses, she hoped not. Let her be okay. This was no place for a mare as weak-willed as her daughter.

Thought she did admit, seeing Fluttershy beat the stuffing out of one of her toughs while riding a bear sent a particularly warm thrill through her heart.

“Think we’ll make it through the night?” Skylar asked.

“Don’t see why not,” Barricade said. This was what they trained for. This is what some ponies died for. She flexed her wings to their fullest extent, and winced. The Miner’s arrow wound had not fully healed.

“That was friendly of you,” she commented.

“Hmm?”

“Talking to Hemos. Rarity. Putting a leg around her.” The doctor was still watching the party despite them being consumed by the darkness, natural and not. Hemos was never known for his tact or bedside manner, only his aptitude. The thought crossed her mind that it was for ulterior, likely penis-related reasons—she would be quite the catch if she wasn’t fifty percent cosmetics or drenched like a sewer rat.

“Oh. That,” Hemos said.

There was something in his tone that made her turn toward the stallion. “What is it?

He met her gaze. “I took her pulse.”

Long practice gave her a more than adequate poker face. Keeping silent, she let the doctor explain himself. “Your average pony would have a heartbeat of about thirty to forty beats per minute. You’d get higher under stressful conditions, and that’s normal. She was close to hyperventilating, and coupled with her description of events, it got me suspicious. No wounds, but a plethora of scars? A missing eye with no sign of trauma? I don’t buy it.”

“She had to fight her way to get here,” Skylar said simply.

“Of course, and it’s normal to be stressed. But she’s been at rest for almost fifteen minutes. Adrenaline would have burned off by then. I’d expect somewhere around eighty beats tops. She’s running at around two hundred twenty.”

Medical training was a prerequisite for becoming an officer. “She should in a world of hurt.”

“She should be dead.”

Barricade took a moment. The Miner. Herobrine. Rarity lying. Their mysterious benefactor. The war. Ponies dying. Smoke and screams on the wind. So much happening right now. Finding out why was Rarity lying to them for apparently no reason seemed pretty low on the list of priorities right now. Still...

“Any guesses why she’d be withholding the truth? Of what’s wrong with her?”

“Not right now, and there’s not enough time to find out.”

Agreed. When this was over and done with, she and the prissy mare were going to have a chat. “Right then. Saddle up, Hemos. Skylar. We have a war to win.”

Their tactics had already been finalized, but knowledge of the Wither creature changed many things. Barricade sent a wing and a prayer that Luna’s personal guard were skilled enough to take the creature out. There were none in the world better trained than Luna’s elite guard. She hoped being short staffed by one little shit of a bat pony didn’t hinder matters, something she needed to check up on now.

The three of them cantered out the tent with Barricade leading the charge. Fluttershy’s bear did a number on beating the sense out of her guard, but he’d have to suck it up tonight. Two guards saluted on their way out, one of them bleeding a little and looking a bit cross-eyed. Fluttershy and Rarity were talking animately while a zebra clung to the shadow nearby.

“First Lieutenant!” The batpony was chatting with the mute. He still looked a little disgruntled merely looking at her. Lightning had that effect on ponies.

The mare walked over to her. “Gotta be quick, cap.”

Ignoring the insubordinate comment, she got right to the point. “Will you be searching for your mistress now that you’ve brought the mute here?”

“That was the general idea.”

Being part of Luna’s guard, and a Night Guard at that, Barricade held no true authority over the mare unless given it. Lightning reported to Captain Hawk or Luna herself. If she said no to Barricade’s request, there was nothing she could do to stop her. “Our mages have already expended a significant portion of their magic calling for help, so I can’t count on the Council being my trump card. I’m assembling a task force as a first strike against the forces besieging the town. I’d like you you and the Miner to be apart of it.”

“Him for his experience in dealing with these monsters, and me for my military service,” she concluded. “But you can send any soldier and get the same result.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, you are actually good at your job. But I don’t just want your considerable combat experience when leading the charge.”

“I thought as much.”

“Are you willing or not?”

“Depends on what else you need me for.”

Barricade looked at the Miner. Luna had thought that there might be some sort of link between his and Herobrine’s mind. Were they allies? Enemies? Or as improbable as it may be, blissfully ignorant of each other?

Lightning caught her gaze. “Him?” Barricade saw her put the pieces together. “You and I are the only ones to have fought him.”

Barricade nodded.

“He a threat?”

“Unknown.”

Lightning chewed it over. “I’ll help, but if you put a gun to my head, if I absolutely have to choose between Luna and your mission—one or the other and both are situation fubar, I’m picking her.”

Lightning was crass, arrogant, and a narcissist, but no one could say she wasn’t loyal to her princess. “It’ll do. Your mission is to clear the town and protect the library to the best of your ability. Your secondary objective is this: if it ever looks like the Miner will turn on the task force, if he is a willing participant in these events, kill him.”

There was only a moment of silence.

“Done.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
Edited by: Reader Review

Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm

Ponyville faced an ordinary day. Apples were sold on the market, ponies milled around at their jobs, parties were planned, and friendships deepened.

But then night came, and with it a black gateway into another world. It closes before any action can be taken, but now the Mane Six and the Canterlot nobility are tasked with finding out what they can about the gateway. Who created it? Where did it lead to?

And most importantly, did anything come through?

Chapter 1: The Calm Before the Storm

The sun was bright and warm, a crisp yellow orb in the morning sky that promised a pleasant day. Until next week that is. Or tomorrow to be even more specific. Rainbow Dash was busily collecting moisture for clouds and storing them up on the highest peaks of the nearby mountains. From there, she and the rest of her team would add to the collection and the clouds would drift lower and lower to Ponyville as they stacked up on each other. Being lower to the ground would provide more heat to the clouds, priming them for a series of storms scheduled to happen throughout the week. Ponyville was getting dry due to several weeks of clear skies and it could use a good deluge.

“Dew Drop! Deep Blue! Watch the stragglers!” Rainbow Dash called out. The two blue pegasi grinned sheepishly and rounded up the clouds that were escaping the rest of the pack. Rainbow Dash had rounded up eight teams of pegasus for next week’s storms; four teams in shifts to keep the clouds up in the mountains and the remaining four scavenging for any additional clouds and moisture to add to the pack. Dust Devils’s team was already complaining about overtime, but Rainbow Dash’s job as Ponyville’s resident weather pony was on the line. With a few inspiring words, she managed to cool the grumbling.

Speaking of, her replacement would be arriving soon. Rainbow Dash had to change her sleeping schedule for the storm and had been supervising for the last 12 hours; in short, she really needed a break. Fluttershy had taken it upon herself to cook breakfast in preparation for the end of Dash’s shift and she was itching to get over there and pig out; Fluttershy always made good food. Dash listened to her stomach rumble. ‘Good for me, because I can’t cook at all.’

Lucky for Dash her replacement had just arrived. A snow white Pegasus was weaving between the rocky, snow covered peaks to Dash’s location in the sky. Nobody called him by his name, but by a moniker, an exclamation the pegasus always seemed to swear by. That being—

“Great Scott! What’s this I hear about you scouring the landscape!? Halfway to Canterlot!? What were you thinking!?”

“Hey! It’s only 50 miles! That’s nothing for even my team! What’s the big deal Scott!?”

“Halfway to Canterlot is 88 miles, Rainbow Dash!” Great Scott retorted.

“We need those clouds Great Scott! I don’t care how far we got to go to get them!” The shouting match would have continued, but both noticed that they were beginning to draw the stares and ire of those around them.

“Just leave, Rainbow Dash; I’ve got it covered from here,” Great Scott gave a defeated sigh and shooed Dash away with a hoof. Dash did not complain for an instant; she’d been up all night and now it was time for breakfast.

It was not Fluttershy that opened the door to the rural cottage, but Angel. Angel gave Rainbow Dash a scowl, but gestured for her to come in.

“Heh, don’t mind if I do.” Angel slammed the door right behind Dash, causing the latter to jump. That gave Angel a smile and the bunny hopped to the kitchen. Hearing the ruckus, Fluttershy poked her head around the corner and smiled at seeing her friend.

“Oh, hey, Rainbow Dash. Come on in; everything’s already set up.” Dash cantered to the kitchen and saw Fluttershy’s full spread.

“Woah.” Dash said blankly.

The cream-colored pegasus had finished removing an apron and was shyly staring at her hooves, “Is it good?”

Dash was used to receiving large meals whenever she visited Fluttershy’s for food or to crash on the couch. But even this took the cake: lemonade, orange juice, daisy sandwiches, a 2 gallon bowl full of lettuce and salad makings, five different dressings, apples right from the orchard, fresh muffins, pancakes, and an omelet apiece.

“This is amazing, Fluttershy! You’ve sure outdone yourself.”

The timid pegasus flushed at the compliment. “It was nothing.”

“Come on now, let’s eat!”

And thus Fluttershy’s breakfast and Rainbow Dash’s very late dinner started. Dash began shoveling food down her throat in between conversation pieces while Fluttershy seemed content to pick at her breakfast piece by piece while listening. Word of the coming storm came up along with Fluttershy’s scheduled stop with Rarity later that day. The topics degraded into idle chatter and soon both were done with their meal. Fluttershy had noticed that Dash’s eyes were drooping with every bite she took, so after cleaning up the leftovers, “You know Rainbow Dash, you can stay at my place for a while. I really don’t mind after all.”

“That’s okay, Fluttershy. I can still make it back to my pl – OW!”

“That’s the cellar door, Rainbow Dash.”

Rainbow Dash slowly made her way up the cellar stairs, not even trying to fly up. “You know what,” She simpered after climbing out of the cellar. “I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

Rainbow Dash already knew the drill, having crashed at her place several times before for various reasons.

“I have some blankets folded in the closet if you need them.”

“Hmm...” was Dash’s only reply.

‘Wow, she must really be tired then,’ Fluttershy thought; it was not often Rainbow Dash would would vy for sleep so fast. Dash just pulled out a blanket, wrapped it around her shoulders, and curled up on the couch.

Angel’s thumping foot broke Fluttershy out of her thoughts. “What is it Angel?” Angel pointed at Rainbow Dash, shook his head and crossed his little arms over his chest in a huff.

“She’s just taking a nap, Angel. Let Rainbow Dash rest.” Angel only glared at Fluttershy in return. “I’ll buy you an extra carrot at the market if you can watch over her while I’m away with Rarity.” Angel stopped thumping his foot and thought for a moment before brandishing three furry fingers. “Alright then, Angel, three carrots.”

Rainbow Dash started to snore.

No matter how many times Rarity visited the spa, the magic of Aloe and Lotus worked every time. Every kink in her neck or closed pore melted away under their treatments.

“So the brute just barged in, ate her fill, and staked a claim on your sofa? Fluttershy dear, how do you put up with her?”

“Oh Rarity, she was just all tuckered out from preparing for the storms next week. Giving her some food and a place to sleep is the least I could do for all her hard work. And besides, I volunteered for it; she didn’t ask or barge in.” Lotus was giving Fluttershy a calf massage while Rarity was currently enjoying a mud bath. Lotus worked a particularly tense cluster of nerves and Fluttershy let out a moan of enjoyment.

“Well a little class would not hurt that pony at all. On another topic dearie, I have a favor to ask of you. Cloud Kicker stopped by yesterday and placed an order. I was wondering if you will be busy tomorrow and if you could model for me for an hour or two.” Rarity began to peel off the cucumber slices on her eyes and Aloe was there to assist Rarity out of the mud bath in a flash.

“I’m taking care of Owliscious because he’s been having problems with his wings, so any time after one o’clock should be fine.” Lotus finished a quick massage up Fluttershy’s back and then helped her off the table.

“Same time next week?”

“I wouldn’t miss it darling.”

Rarity ventured to the spa a little earlier than normal today, but for a very good reason. It was 1 o’clock and she was expecting a loud guest very soon.

“Hey, Rarity! How’s it going!” exclaimed a frizzy head from the doorway.

Rarity gave a smile for her guest. “Good morning, Pinkie. I take it you’re here for your order now aren’t you?”

“Why of course silly!” Pinkie skipped inside, bouncing on the tips of her hooves.

“What exactly do you need two bolts of red and blue fabric for anyway?” Rarity put on her work glasses and began looking through her list of orders.

“Oh! I didn’t tell you, did I?” Pinkie turned around to face Rarity. “You see, Cherliee’s planning to do an outdoor talent show for her students and she wanted all the parents and friends to come too! So she asked me set it all up. There’s going to be games and exhibits and fun and food and dancing and singing oh! Lyra said she’d bring her lyre and play music and I’m trying to get Zecora to come by and tell some stories. I’ve got an order in for about a dozen different cakes in already and I’ve just got so much to do! Yes yes yes! It’s going to be so much fun!”

“I can be certain that there isn’t another pony better for the job Pinkie. I am sure your party for Cherilee will be as delightfully grand as all your others.”

“As great? I intend for it to be better!”

Rarity smiled at Pinkie’s declaration. If Pinkie ever had her mind set on something, by Tartarus she would do it. It was something that Rarity admired about the perky pony. Rarity had heard from Rainbow Dash about an instance where Pinkie refused to pull a prank on Fluttershy just because she knew that the shy mare wouldn’t take the joke as well as intended.The joke was harmless enough, but on the off chance that Fluttershy did take it the wrong way, Pinkie canned the prank. She was fun, carefree, and lived life to the fullest, but still followed her own special code of conduct, as absurd as it may be. In her own way, Pinkie was as honest as Applejack.

Rarity walked over to her table to her sign-out sheet, which unfortunately Opalescence was taking a nap on. This was always a little tricky.

“Opal sweetie? You are napping on mommy’s clipboard.” Opal continued to sleep soundlessly, her paws batting playfully in her sleep. Rarity gave a sigh of concentration and focused her magic on the clipboard. It became enveloped in the soft glow of her horn. Centimeter by centimeter, the clipboard edged slowly out from under Opal. Rarity had just two more inches it left, but by then it was too late. Opal had finally woken up and wasn’t too happy that it was Rarity to disturb her rest. Opal swiped at Rarity, who only just managed to dodge the attack at the cost of a few hairs.

“Opal! What did I tell you!?” Opal just sauntered off the table and jumped to the ground. Karma, however had caught up to Opal and she landed on an inflatable flotation device that Sweetie Bell had left at Carousel Boutique. Opal bounced off the piece of plastic and landed in an undignified heap on the floor. After a disgruntled meow and a hiss at Rarity, Opal righted herself and sought out a new place to sleep. If it wasn’t for Pinkie that is. Opal was scooped up by pink ball of self-sustaining sugar-high brain and hugged tightly to her chest. She nuzzled the white Persian and cooed.

“Opalescence, you are just adorable when you’re angry.” Opal was furiously hissing and spitting and scratching at the air in an attempt to escape Pinkie’s grasp. But even Rarity knew that there was no escape. She smiled slightly; Opalescence would get a taste of her own medicine for once. Rarity’s thoughts soon drifted elsewhere however. Bouncing plastic...

“Hmmm...” Opal's ungraceful flightset forth an idea Rarity's mind. “Ideeeeeaaaaa! Pinkie!” Pinkie dropped Opal to end the poor animal’s torment. “I have an idea for a fun house I want to run by you...”

Applejack was pulling in her weekly cart of apples to sell on the market in Ponyville Square. It was full to the brim of Red Delicious, Macintosh, and a few Granny Smiths. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Applejack expected to sell out of apples. The days were getting hot and apples and cider sold very well in such heat. Her cart grumbled noisily at it got stuck in a rut in the dirt road, but a heave on the cart jostled it loose.

A slow, steady wind blew through the leaves with a gentle rustle and cooled the sweat on Applejack’s brow. The Earth pony’s only concern was the increased smell of moisture in the air. A storm perhaps? She’d have to ask one of the weather ponies later so she could prepare the farm. At least Applebloom had the sense to stay home this time; Applejack hated having to keep giving away apples as an apology for the zealous filly’s actions.

The dirt road gave way to cobblestone streets and simple wooden houses with thatch roofs. Ponies were milling about in idle chatter while a few were carrying on with their jobs. Morning Dew and Golden Harvest were swapping seeds and stories about their respective gardening activities, Cherilee was heading to the schoolhouse with a fresh batch of papers, and Lyra was eyeing the candy mare Bon Bon over a strawberry milkshake. Applejack had a wager with Rarity that it would be Lyra the first to take the leap and pop the question between the two. They had been steadily dating for about a year and a half now and several other ponies had started placing bets on who would make the first move. Most couples tended to stay just that, but there was the rare occasion when two ponies would tie the knot. An event such as a wedding was always a momentous occasion for a small town like Ponyville. Applejack remembered many years ago when she attended Mr. and Mrs. Cake's wedding with Grandma Smith. Save for the time when Ponyville hosted the Summer Sun Celebration, she had never in her life witnessed so many townsfolk in one place before.

And now that her thoughts were on the matter, she wondered how Pinkie would react to a wedding. Or even better, how she would plan one for such a small town. Princess Cadence and Shining Armor’s wedding was the first she had been asked to assist with. Having full reign for a Ponyville wedding would make the excitable pony erupt from anticipation.

Applejack had made her way to the center of town and set up shop next to the fountain in Ponyville Square. Most of the food-oriented businesses were positioned further away from the center of town, which was why Applejack always picked this spot. She didn’t like to draw away sales from her friends in town and it always gave her a recognizable position for people to come and chatter if need be. It wasn’t too long after the cart was open and her money pail set down that the business began streaming in. She chatted with a few of her regulars, finally discovering from Cloud Kicker that a series of storms were scheduled all throughout the following week. Applejack gave a dry grumble; she really wished she had figured it out earlier from somepony, or even Rainbow Dash. She looked up at the sun; it was about 3 o’clock. Cloud kicker said her farewells and Applejack spotted a familiar figure walking behind the mare.

“Pinkie! How ya doin’ hun?”

“Oh hi, Applejack!” Pinkie Pie bounced over to Applejack’s cart. Applejack eyed the large package that Pinkie had strapped to her back.

“Watcha got there, Pinkie?”

“Oh this? This is just some fabric for parties I got from Rarity. Speaking of Rarity, she just gave me a great idea! What do you think about this Applejack: a balloon house so all the little fillies and gentlecolts can bounce around in! I can’t believe Rarity thought that one up before I did. I wish I thought of it!”

“Ah can’t say for sure, but I plum reckin’ there’s not a one here. Yer next party’s sure gonna be in fer a treat.”

“You bet! And Applejack, how long will you be here today?”

“A few more hours. Why you ask?”

“Ambrosia gave me an idea after Jim Beam was getting a little too fresh with her and she bucked an apple into the scaffold he was standing on and it made him lose his balance and fall into a big bucket of water. So then I thought, ‘Hey, wouldn’t that be another great game to have at a party?’ So I started talking with Crafty Crate and he said he could build a tank where a pony would sit on a chair and if a target was hit by an apple the pony in the chair would be dropped into the tank. Berry Punch volunteered to dress up as a clown foritandit’sgoingtobesomuchfun!SoIwasaskingifyouhaveanybushelsofapplesthatIcanuse?”

“...Say what now?”

It had been a side project of Twilight’s for some time to construct a communal calendar of events for the citizens of Ponyville to reserve buildings and parks for social events and private gatherings. It had mostly to do with Pinkie throwing a party at every possible time around the clock and ponies were starting to voice complaints. She had spoken with the Mayor about such a project and its implementation, but she was too busy at the moment to give it more than a cursory glance. It was simple enough, but the Mayor still needed to speak with the town's major businesses and make a public presentation.

Twilight finished the last few details of her project and stepped away from her desk with a sigh. Spike stepped forward and started cleaning up, filing away spare parchment and quills in their proper places across the library. “You sure can’t stand not being busy Twilight.”

Twilight smiled at her little helper. “What can I say Spike, it’s just a habit I’ve never quite shaken since my school days.”

“You know Twilight, it wouldn’t hurt to let loose every now and then.” Spike had finished putting everything away and cramming the charter into a drawer. The parchment wouldn't fit with all of Twilight's other projects and documents taking up space, so he let it sit on the desk until he could finagle some room.

“Oh, I do, but Pinkie’s parties tend to wear me out faster than my work anyway.” Twilight looked at the clock on the wall; it was 7 o’clock. It was an hour to sunset and between running the town library and her own busywork, time had gotten away from her.

“I’ll say. That girl loves her parties.” There was a quick knock at the door. “I’ll get it!”

Spike trotted over to the door and turned the knob. On the other side was a familiar cyan pegasus, “Hiya Spike! Twilight here?”

“Sure! Twilight! Dash is here!” Spike called over his shoulder.

Twilight cantered over to the door with a smile on her face. The pegasus was visiting past library hours, but she knew exactly why she was here. “Hi Rainbow Dash. I take it you’re here for the next one?”

“You bet!”

An hour later, Rainbow Dash still had her nose in a book title Daring Do and the Lost Sapphire of Marelantis. Rainbow Dash had gotten into the habit of reading out loud to herself, but ever since Twilight had seen the bright gleam in her eyes whenever she got sucked into a story, Twilight let her friend indulge herself.

“’Think, Daring, think!’ the brave adventurer thought to herself. From a pair of open grates in the ceiling, the cylindrical room was filling up with seawater. The sound was deafening as the water came rushing in, sweeping her off her hooves and into the wall. Her wings were useless in the enclosed death trap. She could see no way to force open the doors as they were barricaded by her captors from the outside. The only ways out were the two grates gushing water from above. The current was too strong for Daring Do to escape, so her only hope was to try to loosen the grate when the water filled up the rest of the room. Her captors had left her with her satchel of supplies, believing such a small package could not aid in her escape. She still had her tools. With a little luck and a steady hoof, she might be able to loosen the one of the grates and see where it leads. Her lung capacity would be tested to its most extreme. She couldn’t help but smile; it was better than a boring day.”

Twilight gave a content smile as Rainbow Dash finished the chapter. Whenever she opened a book, Rainbow Dash became as excitable and enthusiastic as a filly with her first toy. Rainbow Dash would never admit how enthralled she became, but she let Dash have her fun and enjoy herself, even if she felt a desire to tease her friend on occasion.

Twilight was instead observing the night sky with her telescope. It was a pleasantly cool night with the stars and moon giving off a steady glow. Ever since the Summer Sun Celebration, she had acquired a newfound fondness for the night and night sky. It truly was a lovely beauty with all of its black, blues, and dashes of purple.

“Hey Twilight?” Rainbow Dash asked. Despite the desire to keep reading, it was past time for Rainbow Dash to leave the library. Twilight had already signed out the book, but Rainbow Dash had stopped her before closing up for the night.

“Yes, Rainbow Dash?”

“How many Daring Do books are there?”

“Daring Do is part of a joint author anthology.” Dash had a confused look on her face. “Meaning that any author can write about Daring Do and tell their own story about her. By my last count, there are thirteen different books between four different authors.”

Dash gave what Twilight swore was a squeal of excitement. “That’s great! There’s 9 more left for me to read then.”

Twilight gave a chuckle, “I'll place an order when you’re done with that one Rai--“

Twilight could not and would never remember what would happen for the next few seconds. After one moment, she was speaking with Rainbow Dash, the next, she was on the ground. Twilight blinked, her brain still not registering why she was lying on the ground or how she got there. She was covered in bits of something sharp and under a pile of books.

Twilight blinked again and shook her head, trying to clear away the ringing she was hearing. Everything felt strange and fuzzy. And what was that loud ringing anyway? It wasn't anything Twilight had heard before. Some of the shelves were knocked off their pegs and the books were sliding off them and onto the floor. But why were the books hitting the floor not making any noise?

Her library was a mess now, too. It seemed that everything that had been on a shelf or elevated in anyway had been knocked on the floor. Dust was falling from the ceiling, stinging her eyes. Twilight called out for Rainbow Dash, but all she could hear was a muffled noise. Strike that; Twilight could hear the sound of very loud breathing. Believing Dash was on the ground next to her, she looked around and behind herself. Seeing that her friend wasn’t, Twilight realized that the loud breathing was her own. Her own breath was thunder to her ears. She tried shaking her head again to clear her thoughts. It felt like there was cotton stuffed in her head that muffled the sensations of the world.

Twilight took another look around the room for Rainbow Dash. The library was a complete mess, but still no Rainbow Dash. ‘Hard... hard to think...’ Twilight thought. She tried to figure what just happened and came up with only one hypothesis: Whatever happened knocked her off her feet, into a bookcase, and shattered the windows.

Twilight perked up; the mare had just spotted a cyan hoof under a pile of books and a cabinet. Twilight gingerly made her way over to Rainbow Dash, paying special attention to not step on anything, especially the broken glass. Lighting her horn up with power, Twilight lifted the cabinet and books off her friend and set them in a corner of the library. Using a little more magic to clear the debris and glass from the floor, Twilight ran the rest of the way to Rainbow Dash, whom had already started to move and gather her bearings with the weight off her back.

“–ainbow Dash?” Her voice still sounded muffled to her own ears, but was coming in more clearly. Dust was falling off of Dash’s mane as she looked around the room and at Twilight. Her eyes were glazed over like Twilight’s had been a few moments ago.

“Rainbow Dash? Can you hear me?” Twilight’s voice didn’t seem to register with Dash. She used her magic to clear off her upstairs bed of debris and levitated Dash over to it. Dash, having gained back her equilibrium, started to panic at being moved without conscious effort, but settled down when she was placed on Twilight’s bed. She tried to take flight, but her wings flapped uselessly in her daze. Twilight raced to her upstairs balcony to check on her pegasus friend. Dash tried to say something, but it came out slurred and unintelligible. Dash looked ready to panic and turned to Twilight, but her friend was already there to comfort her. Twilight knew that Dash couldn’t hear her just yet, so she wrapped her forelegs around Dash’s neck in a gentle embrace. Dash was shaking slightly and Twilight couldn’t blame her. Rainbow Dash was a mare of action, always diving head first to wrangle problems with her bare hooves. Being deprived of her senses and wings so suddenly and without a noticeable cause must have been terrifying to her. Twilight held Dash in the hug until she stopped shaking. There were tears in Dash’s eyes when they pulled apart.

“Twi..light...” Dash managed to say. Twilight smiled and pushed Rainbow Dash back onto the bed. Rainbow Dash seemed to understand and lay down to rest. Having secured her house and gaining back her senses, it was time for Twilight to figure out what had just transpired. She made her was back downstairs, the doorknob opening with a flash of lavender energy. Twilight ran out the door and stopped. She found what caused the disruption inside and it was unlike anything she had seen before.

A half mile up in the night sky outlined with a black border was a massive, swirling vortex of violet energy. Actually, massive was an understatement: it was positively ENORMOUS. The swirling mass stretched from the town all the way to the Everfree Forest; it had to be at least a mile wide. An unusual noise was coming from the oddity, something akin to a hushed whisper that reminded her of some of her spells she’d cast in the past but far more ethereal. The light of Luna’s full moon illuminated the backdrop of the giant... portal? That’s what a cursory glance suggested anyway. Black material outlining a swirling vortex of a deep violet energy; a portal if she’d ever seen one. It was oddly shaped too; a rectangle with perfectly aligned edges. How did it get there without anybody noticing? Where did it come from? Where did the portal lead to? What composition of magic and materials could sustain such a massive gateway? Who built it? Did the explosion signal the portal’s arrival or something else? And why was it just hovering perfectly still in the sky!?

Her analytical mind aside, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a deep enthrallment at the gateway. It was foreign and ethereal with its solid black structure, unknown origin, and swirling, curling energy. Small flecks of violet magic broke off from the portal and rained down like a gentle snow. It really was...

“Beautiful...” Twilight could not help but take a moment to appreciate the portal’s aesthetic grace. In the past she had taken her time enjoying walks through the various gardens and parks since she moved to Ponyville. It was the same during the Running of the Leaves where she enjoyed the fall colors in preparation for the winter season or seeing Princess Celestia raise the sun for the first time. The shell shock was mostly cleared and she knew that she needed to do something, but she wanted, no, needed, to take a moment. She had never, in all her studies and stories she'd come across, encountered such an oddity. Time had stopped for Twilight and she could do nothing but admire the portal in all its beauty and splendor.

But something eventually did snap her out of her stupor. Like a drop of ink dying cloth, the center of the violet haze slowly changed hues. The very center of the quiet storm of energy became brighter and brighter. Soon it became a full bloody-red and, following the swirling currents already in place, began to spread bit by bit to the black borders of the portal. The change felt... wrong. Perverse. A foul botch of something glorious. The first incarnation was quiet and gentle, this once felt eager and violent. The currents of energy changed as well. The formerly calm and graceful movements had become erratic and tempestuous. She had seen a raging storm on the water once when she was naught but a filly. Her parents had taken her to one of the eastern port towns for a vacation and there she witnesses a masterful display of a weather pony’s art. The winds were gales and the waters black and vast. Such a sight she had witnessed once until now. The crimson energy raged against the black borders of its cage but held fast. Faster and faster they raged, stronger and stronger they became. Something had to snap first.

For the second time in ten minutes, Twilight lost her vision to the gateway in the sky. A single pulse of white light detached itself like a solar flare and turned the darkness into day. For the first time, everything from Ponyville to the neighboring towns saw the world clearly in the black embrace of the night. But just as quickly as it came, it ended. The burst of light vanished and Twilight gazed up at it once more, blinking back the spots on her eyes.

But the portal was barren and empty. The raging tempest of crimson had vanished and left only a black, empty shell with nothing left to give.

It was absolute bedlam at the Canterlot gates. Guards, pegasus and unicorn alike, were scrambling under the orders of their superiors. A cataclysmic shockwave and accompanying burst of light from the south was enough for the head of the Royal Guard to mobilize everyone he had under his command until he was, without any semblance of doubt, sure that the situation was under control. He was shouting commands, shoring up any loose ends or cracks in Canterlot’s defenses that he could find. And that was only the start of his worries.

“Wake the Council of Magic. I don’t care if you have to roll the Archmage himself out of bed, get them here now!” Shining Armor demanded to his lieutenant.

“Yes, Captain!”

Three more guards stood at attention. Each stood tall, straight, and still as stone, waiting for an order to be given. Even though the Canterlot Royal Guard was trained better, Shining Armor was not in the mood for any insubordination from his subordinates. Shining Armor turned to the first. “Assemble a team of the fastest and finest vets we have. I’m not sure we’ll need them just yet, but I want a strike team ready in the off chance this is the prelude to an attack.”

The pegasus saluted and was off, his wings gathering lift as he made a beeline for the barracks.

Now it was the next soldier in line. “You will be my liaison for the Council of Magic. Once the Council gets here, I want them debriefed on any and all information we have to share. If they have anything to offer in return, I want a report immediately. You should have a little time before they get here, so fly to the School for Gifted Unicorns and get permission to use their facilities. If the Dean gives you any trouble, make certain he knows I do not want to come down there.”

“Yes, Captain!” And he too was off.

“Speak with all unicorns on guard and pick their brains for anything they have learned from... whatever that explosion was. Once you are done, prepare a report for myself and the Princess. I don’t care how insignificant the details may be, I want. To. Know. EVERYTHING!”

“Yes, Captain!” And he was off to the guard towers and castle walls. Shining Armor sighed; Cadence would be waiting for him another night. This would be the third night this week. At least this time there appeared to be a genuine problem.

Shining Armor snapped his attention back to his duties. Now was not the time to lose focus, even for his beloved. He marched back up to the castle walls as well, citizens and nobility giving their respects and asking questions alike as he passed them. He spent a few minutes reassuring them and their families. He didn’t have much to say; he had already mobilized the Royal Guard and started preparing the unicorns with any resources they might need. He assured them that, no matter the circumstances, everything would be alright. It was enough though. The citizens he met parted with smiles and a weight off their chest. The presence of the Royal Guard and the time Shining Armor took with Canterlot’s people was reassurance enough.

Shining Armor began his rounds on the walls with hopes high for a report, but he knew it was too soon. The pegasus he had sent off still hadn’t returned, so all he could do was wait for some kind of report and do his job in the meantime. So he killed time on the walls, his men saluting as he passed.

“Incoming!” came a call from above.

Shining Armor’s head shot around to the soldier’s call; it was one of the Farseers on the towers. Shining Amor raced to the door to the tower and began climbing as fast as possible, his boots making rhythmic thumps against the stone. He made it to the top of the tower and ran down the stone pathway. Each tower was topped with a circular walkway forty feet in diameter and a single walkway extending away from the castle an additional twenty feet and lined with torches across its entirety. At the end on a stone perch was a single Farseer, a unicorn hoof-picked by Shining Armor himself for his or her skills in perception and obfuscation magic. It was the job of each Farseer to observe and record any movement or action from anything they see that was out of the ordinary, magic or otherwise. This Farseer was a sky blue stallion with a white mane by the name of Stormy Skies, odd indeed because that was a pegasus name. Skies’ background check came back all clear, so he supposed one of his lineages hadn't been too adherent to their wedding vows. Shining Armor had spoken with the Private before and confirmed that his grandmother had a reputation of being... promiscuous.

Shining Armor stopped at Skies’ side. “Report, Private!”

“Captain! A single pegasus coming in from the south eight klicks out.”

Shining Armor squinted to the south and saw nothing in the darkness. “Good eye, soldier.” Stormy Skies’ chest puffed at the compliment “Can you make out anything else?”

“Not much. Whoever it is, they are flying like a bat out of Tartarus. They’re flying as fast as possible to Canterlot. And...” Private Skies squinted at the horizon and Shining Armor saw his horn glow ever so slightly. Private Skies’ eyes became enveloped with a thin sheen of light. It was a ghastly effect that made the torchlight reflect off his eyes like a cat.

“I... I think... I think they are wearing armor...”

Shining turned his head to the side and to the captain currently on duty. “Send word to the troops. Have them prepare for a possible incursion.”

“Wait!” Came a cry from Stormy Skies. Shining Armor and the captain turned to the Farseer. “It’s not an attacker! It’s one of Princess Luna’s entourage! Those aren’t pegasi wings!”

“Clear the tower! Make way!” Shining Armor shouted to the troops. Everyone immediately filed to the sides and rear of the platform to make a makeshift landing pad. Shining Armor lifted his head and set a single starburst into the air. It hissed into the sky and burst into a flickering yellow light that illuminated the tower in a dull glow. The light lasted only so long; it soon began to fall back to the tower, flickering to a dull gleam as it went out.

“Captain!” Stormy called again. “He... yes, that’s a stallion alright, he’s changed directions. He’s coming straight to us.”

“...Then we wait...” Shining Armor said. It was several minutes before anything could be done. Shining Armor wasn’t too skilled in Farsight, but he knew enough that even he could make out the Night Guard after a short wait. It was another minute before anyone spoke up.

“Huh, he ain’t looking too good.” Private Skies’s back was to everyone else in an effort to keep his night vision safe from the brightly-lit Canterlot below and Shining Amor’s starburst.

“Elaborate, Private.” He ordered. He could make out the black speck of flapping wings, but not much else.

“He’s exhausted and slowing down. Wherever he came from, it doesn’t look like he stopped to rest along the way. He wanted to get here and he wanted to get here fast. He looks like he’s about to fall from the sky.”

It was another minute before Stormy Skies spoke up. By then, everyone could see the Night Guard clad in his violet armor and great bat wings. The Night Guard was weaving in the air erratically.

“Yeah, he’s not in for a pleasant landing.”

“Everyone, stand back!” It was just in time too. The Night Guard took two more minutes to get to Canterlot airspace, barely making it that far. He was weaving up and down in the air, keeping himself aloft by sheer willpower alone. He was only 200 feet out losing altitude too fast for safety. Faster and faster he dropped, but the Night Guard’s head was dead set on the tower.

“You two!” Shining Armor pointed to two pegasus guards. “Help him out.” The two pegasus saluted and shot off like fireworks. They raced to the flailing Night Guard, but as they came upon him, his wings failed and he dropped ten feet. He was close to the tower and moving too fast. Shining Armor braced himself to hear the crunch of bone against the tower walls.

But the Night Guard had enough strength left for one mighty beat of his wings. He rose in the air just enough to clear the battlements, but his legs caught against the Farseer’s perch. The Night Guard tumbled end over end, wings and hooves flailing and Shining Armor swore he heard something snap. The Night Guard came to a stop, a mass of armor and disjointed limbs.

“Medic!” shouted the captain. A pegasus raced off to fetch one from the infirmary.

The Night Guard was a mess. He’d shed all of his leg armor to decrease the weight for his trip. He was covered head to hoof with rivulets of sweat and panting heavily. He coughed several times and gasped, trying desperately to get his breath back. By instinct, he started to fold his wings back against his abdomen, but winced heavily at the action. Shining Armor gave his wings a cursory glance. His left wing appeared fine, if ruffled and soaked with sweat and shivering from cold. His right wing had a large bulge in one of the joints and was bent at an odd angle. A dislocation the medic needed fix when said medic arrived.

The night Guard gave another series of hacking coughs, followed by more panting. His eyes were drooping from fatigue before they saw Shining’s brass. The Night Guard began to stand in respect and Shining Armor was going to make the Guard disregard the salute due to his condition, but the Guard immediately collapsed as he tried to make his feet work properly.

“Stay still, soldier; you’re in no condition to move and the medic is on his way. Now, why did you race here? Report.” The Night Guard nodded and took a few seconds to pant to get his breath back.

*pant* “...message...” *pant* *pant*

“For whom?”

*pant* “Princess Celestia...” *pant* *pant* “From...” *pant* “Princess...” *pant* *pant* “Luna...”

One of the soldiers on guard brought a bucket of water and a ladle. He scooped up and lowered the ladle for the Guard to drink. The Guard nodded his thanks and drank greedily. The pegasus dunked the ladle again and the Guard received two more scoops before his breathing began to stabilize.

*pant* “About a disturbance...” *pant* “To the south.” *pant* “A doorway.”

Princess Celestia was sleeping peacefully in her private quarters, thoughts filled with pleasant dreams. She was on the moon and everything was delicious. The ground was a tangy custard with the hint of vanilla, the stones cast across the surface rock candy, and the stars were sprinkles she could scoop from the heavens. The sun itself was a great lemon drop coated in sugar, ripe and ready for her to taste. She reached up, taking the great orb from the sky and opened her mouth, ready to take a bite.

BANG!!!

Princess Celestia awoke with a start as a large force crashed against the windows. Her head darted to the closet window and her magic sprung from its reservoir deep within. Her magic met her call eagerly like the light meets the sun. Nothing was in her quarters; the wards she had carefully layered piece by piece around the room still held. She was alone. She released her grip on her magic, as disappointed as that made her feel. She quickly put on her crown and armored regalia before exiting her room.

The pair of guards outside her door scrambled to attention. “Princess!”

“I am fine. Come; I wish to find out what has just transpired.” Celestia couldn’t help but sigh; it was such a pleasant dream after all.

As she made her way to the throne room, she had gathered a small following of guards to flank her arrival. She honestly did not believe she would need them, but seeing a formidable guard for Equestria’s princess settled pony’s minds faster than her words ever could. She did not like using such psychological tactics to boost morale, but she was in the middle of an unknown situation and needed all the help she could get. A necessary qualm that must be endured for now. She would deal with the moral ramifications at a later date.

A pony cloaked in reds and greens stepped forward. Emblazoned on her chest was the crest of a court mage, one of a dramatized drawing of Luna and herself wrapped around the planet in a field of stars. “Shooting Star, if you have an update on current events, I would like to hear it.” Celestia commanded.

Shooting Star bowed in respect as she was addressed. “I do not your Highness. All whom I have spoken to report an event to the south that caused a shockwave akin to breaking the sound barrier. As to the source or cause of such an event, I cannot give more details until further investigation.” Shooting Star raised her head to address the Princess directly. “Currently the captain of the Royal Guard has mobilized those on duty to shore up Canterlot’s defenses should the worst come to pass.”

“A wise precaution. I wish him to give me hourly updates until this matter is settled.” One of her guards bowed and ran out the door. From then on, Celestia spoke with her military and political advisors on current events. The creatures of the Everfree Forest had been growing more restless for some time now and would need added measures to keep them in check. Then there were trade disputes between the Griffon Kingdoms and the tariffs on apples; from what her reports can confirm, Griffons had discovered a means of creating a liquor from apples that had become quite popular. It had been quite some time since Celestia had indulged in liquor. ‘I’ll have to sample it some time. Wait, no. Back on topic.’ Other than sweets, liquor had been a guilty pleasure she had indulged in too much in the past.

Next came the preparations and guest list for the upcoming Grand Galloping Gala. All of the local nobility were invited along with notable guests like the Wonderbolts and Photo Finish. 'So close; only three months away...'

“I would like to add a few more to the guest list,” Celestia told her advisor. The advisor gave a half-smirk as if she expected the comment.

“I do have seven additional open slots if you have anypony in mind Princess.”

Celestia smiled happily for having advisors that understood her deeply enough. “Thank you. Please have them delivered the following morning.”

The advisor bowed and turned to leave, having delivered all pertinent news. As soon as he left, a unicorn guard entered and, seeing the Princess, bowed respectfully.

“Your Highness.”

“Rise.” Celestia commanded and the loyal soldier complied. “What have you to report?”

“Highness, I was told to deliver this to you and no one else. Captain Shining Armor received a missive intended for you from a Night Guard that departed from Princess Luna’s entourage.” The Royal Guardspony fished out an envelope sealed with wax and stamped by Shining Armor’s crest. “Apparently she witnesses something pertinent to recent events and sent a message with all haste.”

Princess Celestia took the envelope from the guard and broke the seal with her magic. She began reading the letter slowly, examining each and every letter of her Captain Shining Armor’s script. But as Celestia read more and more, the gravity and absurdity of the situation was finally understood. Her eyes began to widen after every line, putting everyone in the room on edge as they waited for their leader to make a decision. When she was done, she folded the note and gave it to Shooting Star. Gone was the incredulity. In its place was a hard face that demanded her subject’s loyalty and respect. Everyone in the room recognized the change; they were not gazing upon Celestia, but the true Goddess of the Sun.

“Assemble the Royal Guard to be ready to depart on the hour. Shooting Star, assemble a team of mages to attend and gather any supplies they might need from the School for Gifted Unicorns and Countess Incantus’ laboratory. Take special emphasis on magic deconstruction and tracking and be ready to leave by dawn.” Princess Celestia started walking out the door. “Ready my chariot; I will be joining this expedition. And summon Princess Cadence. I want her briefed on the situation and privy to any report. She is to be placed in command of Canterlot as my temporary steward.”

Everyone’s eyes boggled at the orders. “Princess...!” Shooting Star began to exclaim. Celestia turned her gaze on Shooting Star and she shrunk under the stare.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Everyone in the room stood at attention and exclaimed in unison.

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE
Edited by: Viktor Lionheart

Chapter 9: My Only Wish is for You to Suffer

Chapter 9: My Only Wish is for You to Suffer

“Alright soldiers,” Sergeant Jetstream said to the group of four pegasi. “I’ve just--”

BOOM!

After the thunder died, Jetstream continued. “I’ve just received the order to go down there. It’s a sneak and peek, so if we come across anything out of place, anything at all, our orders are to return to the surface.”

Four Royal Guardponies, Cloud Flicker, Thunder Dasher, Storm Twister, and Daisy Shower, their golden armor wrapped in rain ponchos lined with magic to resist electrical discharges, stood at attention in front of him. Each of them nodded in unison, but otherwise were completely immobile.

“And that means don’t touch anything, should there be anything down there that shouldn’t be. You’ve all heard that the creature from last night escaped Lieutenant Chaser’s custody.” Jetstream still had a hard time believing it himself. Nopony had ever escaped Lieutenant Chaser. “If you find that creature, or this other supposed creature the Council of Magic believes may be hiding somewhere, under no circumstance are you to engage. Report the interloper, call for backup, and sit tight. Should it come to pass that any of you are engaged against your will, you have my permission to defend yourself, but your goal should be to survive, not subdue the creature. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant!” The four called out together.

“Good.” Jetstream dug into his saddlebags and retrieved five identical iron crowns with a red gem inset in each. “One of the Elements, Ms. Rarity, provided these for us, free of charge. Thank her when we’re done.” The four nodded once more, stoic as ever.

“She enchanted them so that two taps to the gemstone,” Jetstream tapped the stone twice. A second later, a dull glow radiated from the gemstone, bringing light to the shadows haunting the Everfree Forest. “will activate a light spell so you can see.” Jetstream tapped the stone twice more and the light dimmed. He began passing out the crowns. Each soldier slipped one on, all of them fitting snuggle next to the brush atop their helms. The ponies, Jetstream included, tapped their gemstones, illuminating the ground in a six meter radius.

“Alright stallions, it’s time to--”

Snap!

Five set of ears snapped to attention. Jetstream turned around, scanning the treeline. There was no mistaking the sound of a snapping twig.

“Stay tight,” Jetstream ordered. It was a risk; stay together to provide a more formidable attack force or spread out to minimize the chance of attack. He had to choose the former; best to deal with the enemies he knew were hiding in the forest rather than the two he did not. But what could it possibly be? Jetstream was reminded of a story as a foal his mother told him to keep him in line. She would always say that if he ever misbehaved, a pony without a face would come from the forest and whisk him away forever. He no longer believed in such fantasies, but that lurking doubt in the back of his head still resonated. What if it was the creature? What if it is something else entirely?

BAMF!

The five ponies jumped in surprise; it was as if, somewhere further in the darkness, the very air itself imploded.

“You two, over the canopy. You two, with me down low. Move it!”

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing.

Sergeant Jetstream and his unit spent almost half an hour searching the Everfree Forest for any signs of trouble.They simply could not trace the source of the disturbance, whatever it was. How could it have vanished so swiftly? Jetstream had even called in a platoon to help scour the area for signs of life. All of it was for naught.

Jetstream sulked back to the cave entrance, meeting up with the other four ponies. There really wasn’t much else they could do in that situation besides return to the cave and explore. As much as Jetstream hated going into caves - he was a pegasus after all - he was looking forward to it; the rain was not letting up and made seeing difficult. All five stallions had activated their light crowns just to see in the tempestuous downpour.

As he came into the small clearing before the cave, the four ponies nodded in acknowledgement. It was time to go forth and complete what they set out to do.

The cave had a large entrance, but it was cluttered with bits and pieces of the forest, including a single large bed of dry grass and hay for the cave’s former occupants lodged in the back. Jetstream theorized that the manticores were not occupants long; there was only the one bed, and it was only large enough for one. It would make sense for them to abandon it in fright if they hadn’t been there long in the first place. It carried a distinct musty smell, the scent of soil and beast not uncommon in the Everfree Forest.

In the back of the cave next to the nest, there was a narrow gap just wide enough for a pony to enter single file, double if they were on a diet. After fifty feet, the corridor started to widen into a respectable sized tunnel. The ponies spread out in formation, Sergeant Jetstream up front with the four Senior Privates moving in pairs behind him.

Everything was deathly quiet and that was exactly what they all wanted. No movement, no sound, no problem. The tunnel proceeded at a downward angle, but it was not a problem. Rarity’s crowns worked perfectly, illuminating the corridor before them in detail. It was not much else besides compacted stone and with a little dirt. The underground near the mountains was home to a vast network of tunnels, many hollowed out by underground rivers. Jetstream didn’t doubt that one of those rivers was nearby; the faint scent of moisture was in the air. It mingled with the dry, earthy scent of the tunnels but did not help dispelling the musty scent.

Their path soon split into two. The mutual decision was to take the right path and right on any additional path they came across. If the trail started branching in vertical directions... well, they would deal with that when the time came.

Not much changed as they walked. They started to see small patches of cave moss and tiny lizards that called the caves home. Small flora and fauna were to be expected--

“Guuuuurrruuah...”

That, however, was not.

Something groaned further down the tunnel, far into the darkness which the crowns could only just pierce. The five ponies froze in their tracks.

Rumble...

The group heard rock and earth shifting from ahead. Slowly, each pony stepped back, each not wanting to be in ground zero of a rock slide. There was the pitter-patter of falling dirt and pebbles. Something was indeed happening ahead.

Crack!

With a resounding burst of shrapnel that could even be seen by the ponies, stone and earth crashed into the tunnels.

“Run! Move move move!” Jetstream shouted.

The five turned tail and ran back the way the came. Their retreat was flanked by a wall of dust and debris, hiding whatever was immediately out of sight from view. They raced out of the entrance, a dirty-brown cloud of smoke and dust following them back into the rain and overcast twilight sky. The five ponies started coughing; all of them had inhaled a hearty dose of dust.

“None of this,” Cloud Flicker said before breaking into a series of hacking coughs, “seems right, Sergeant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about every time we’ve approached that cave so far. The first time, we were chased off by a pair of manticores. The second time, we started hearing things that weren’t really there,” He started coughing again, but the fresh air was doing wonders. “Now, we have cave-ins. I’m hypothesizing here, but it feels like we’re being pulled away from this cave whenever we get too close to exploring it.”

“What are you trying to say, Senior Private? You believe we’re being deliberately misdirected?”

“Something doesn’t want us to go down there. Come on Sergeant, don’t you think this is a little too suspicious?”

“In that case I agree. There is something you should see.” Five heads turned back to the cave. Out of the settling dust, a single pony trotted out with confidence.

Surprised as Jetstream was, he laughed. “I didn’t expect to see you alive, Ms. Zecora.”

The zebra nodded, “I am sorry for my delay, but there is something I must say. Ever since last night, I received a fright and chased it into the dark. It escaped below, I could not follow, so to the caves I embarked. I searched without fail and left a trail.

Zecora smirked, something that looked odd on the mare, “There is something in the cave. It’s the dark you must brave.”

‘At least something has gone right today,’ Jetstream thought.

“Thank you, Ms. Zecora. That was a brave thing to do.” Zecora nodded in thanks. Not only did the information confirm Cloud Flicker’s suspicions, but the Sergeant had a firm trail on something now. It was more than he could have asked for.

“But now this is a matter of the crown. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you... to... return home.” Something in Zecora’s gaze distracted the Sergeant. There was... something very wrong with the way she eyed him. He might have been flattered if she was leering, but there was something predatory in her stance.

‘Those eyes... those aren’t--’

Jetstream wasn’t sure what he just saw in Zecora’s eyes, but it made him attempt to step back in some defensive instinct. Something stopped his fearful step, but he kept his eyes on Zecora.

If Jetstream had to guess, the dangerous gleam she had in her eyes was... deceptive. Traitorous.

“Ms. Zecora, I’d like a word with you,” Jetstream wanted to say, but nothing came out. Jetstream tried to clear his throat... only he couldn’t do that either.

Jetstream smiled. That surprised Jetstream, because he didn’t intend to.

“To clarify, you marked a trail all the way to this... object you discovered?” Jetstream started to panic. He was speaking, but not trying to do so. His body was acting on its own accord and he had no control. His senses were operating normally: he could see his men and the lone zebra standing in a circle, he felt the shifting of his golden armor with every breath, and the fresh scent of rain from the oncoming storms.

His body appeared fine to him, but he could not control his actions in the slightest.

Zecora nodded in acknowledgement. One of the Senior Privates spoke up, “What do you want to do, Sergeant?”

Sergeant Jetstream didn’t know what to do at that moment, but his body spoke for him again, “I believe there’s just cause for believing we are being misdirected. Because of that, I want as few ponies down there as possible in case something goes wrong. Quarters are tight, so another collapse could trap everyone down there with no chance of escape.”

It sounded logical to Jetstream, and his unit nodded in agreement. His body gave a dark chuckle that would have sent shivers down his spine if he was still in control. “But at the same time, there’s something down there that needs to be stopped. We’ve all heard the report; there’s more than the biped here. That’s why I’m going down there alone. It will minimize casualties.”

“Sergeant! That’s outrageous!” Another Senior Private exclaimed. It sounded foolish to Jetstream as well, but his body held up a hoof to silence any further neighsayers, and took another breath.

“I understand your concern,” Jetstream’s voice said gently. His tone was low and smooth, enticing his underlings to follow his line of thinking. “But time is of the essences. No matter what is down there, it has evaded up for too long. It could move on at any moment and, if its track record is any indication, we may never find it again. At the very least, I can slow it down. I want the rest of you along with Ms. Zecora to return to camp, call in reinforcements, and bring along the magi. If something is down there and I stop it, then there’s no problem. If I can’t, then I doubt that four more ponies in the dark would be much help. If you return with help, then maybe my distraction will give you enough time. If I am trapped in another cave in, the magi can assist in my escape.”

Honestly, it was a good plan, even if it involved putting his own life in danger.

The realization hit Jetstream like a brick to the face. Zecora went down there alone. With no control of his own body, Jetstream would also be going down there.

Alone.

Locked up in his own head, Jetstream panic’s panic was increasing to critical levels. Something had to be down there. His voice, whatever was making him jump through hoops like a puppet, was staging a plan to go down into the cave without any form of backup. Whatever force commanded him needed to do what it intended in secrecy.

It needed to be stopped.

“Your plan is reasonable, Sergeant, but it’s still dangerous. I know I’m stepping out of line questioning a senior officer, but are you sure this is a good idea?” The nervous Daisy Shower questioned.

‘No, no I am not!’ Jetstream screamed as loud as he could, but shoving his will against the strange bonds placed on him did nothing.

Jetstream’s lips curved into a half smile. He shivered internally at the sensation.

“Indeed I am, Senior Private. Now go; enough time has been wasted. I will be as careful as I can be.”

‘No! Don’t listen!’

One by one, his underlings voiced their grudging consent. Zecora only nodded again, wordlessly accepting his choice as the best available plan. With a few parting words, his men flew into the sky while Zecora slinked back into the shadows. All was quiet once more.

His body turned around, causing him to internally shudder against a wave of vertigo; it was difficult to mentally prepare himself when he was unable to predict his body’s own movements. Without another word his body briskly cantered back to the cave and entered the narrow tunnel.

‘What are you up to, body? Where are you going?’ Jetstream questioned, but did not receive a response.

He approached the fork in the tunnel and took a left without halting. The right was still clouded with a fine shroud but his eyes, his body’s eyes, were locked on the left path.

‘Who are you?’

“...”

‘What are you?’

“...”

‘What’s so important that you don’t want nopony to see it?’

“...”

‘Are you working with anypony?’

“...”

‘Anything?’

“...”

‘ANSWER ME!!!’ Again, there was nothing. Whatever his body intended, it had completely shut him out.

His body took another left at a fork, then took the center when the path divided into three. Jetstream, through sheer luck, spotted how Zecora marked her trail. Left on the ground at intermittent intervals, Jetstream could see a single button. Clever; it was small enough to not notice, but could be spotted easily enough provided you knew that there was a trail to follow.

The cave complex began to widen so that a half dozen pegasi could walk side by side with room to spare.

“La la la la, la la la la,” Jetstream would have blinked in surprise. His body had started to sing a lullaby. “La la la la, la la la la,” It had a relaxing, but at the same time, foreboding melody to it. It was a short tune, but given the context to Jetstream’s own situation, it gave him the chills, especially because it did not have lyrics.

Jetstream was unnerved to say the least. It wasn’t a tune he recognized. The lingering feeling in the back of his mind was that it was his own body out of control for unknown reasons. But hearing that haunting song, the unmistakable fact wormed itself firmly in his mind: He was a puppet. Somepony, some malicious unicorn act, had confiscated his body for purposes unknown to the knight. He halted his inquiry, but not because it appeared to be fruitless. If he was being ignored, it was because he couldn’t be heard, or he wasn’t going to be heard from for much longer.

The realization felt like a cold hoof to the back of his spine. Something... very bad was going to happen, and he could do nothing to stop it.

‘The Eclipse,’ Jetstream thought, but not to his puppeteer. The Eclipse was a combat maneuver only a select few hoofpicked by the Captain of the Royal Guard may participate in. Jetstream himself had not taken the course, but others like Lieutenant Chaser, Captain Hawk, and Captain Armor himself had. In the class, the participant was put under extreme mental and physical duress. Afterwards, the participant would be forced to make a choice, either resulting in death or extreme pain for an undefined period. It was designed to prepare a soldier to face situations where every ending had dire and likely painful consequences. Would a pony keep their cool and face death with courage and honor, or would they clamor to save their own life? Jetstream, although a Sergeant in rank, knew he was not ready for such a situation.

‘Will I face my own eclipse?’ Jetstream pondered. It was a fitting name for such a scenario. Created after Princess Luna’s fall from grace over a thousand years ago, the name was selected by Princess Celestia herself. The sun and the moon, together but still apart. Just as Princess Celestia made the most difficult choice of her life in those moments, so should those who partake the Eclipse.

His body stopped. His was in a tunnel with the left wall open to a titanic cavern with no noticable end. His body turned its head to the cavern, examining the dark. Jetstream saw nothing that worthy to catch his eye. Regardless of that fact, his body spread its wings and flew into the darkness.

It was a very peculiar sensation, to say the least. Jetstream was getting used to his body acting and reacting in manners he had not commanded. Every blink or shift in muscle was awkward, but the sensation of flying in complete darkness was a disturbing sensation. He could not turn his head and view the hole behind him, but seeing nothing but the endless blackness, even under the light of the crown, was unnerving.

Soon he could make out rock walls and... the flickering light of a torch.

Jetstream gasped within the confines of his own mind. There was something else down in the tunnels other than him. It was... an interesting creature to say the least.

At a few inches over six feet, the creature could look Celestia in the eye without any difficulty. It wore a dirty set of blue pants and green shirt over a very lean bipedal body. It matched Princess Luna’s description of the creature perfectly.

Jetstream desire to gain control of his body returned with renewed vigor. He focused every particle of his mind at launching himself at the creature. He demanded his body to react, to apprehend the criminal before him.

Nothing.

Jetstream’s will buckled and collapsed once again. He could twitch neither hoof nor wing any more than what his body was already performing. Dejected, he turned his attention back on the creature. It was raising a hand to block out the light of his crown.

Jetstream felt a horrible jolt in the back of his skull followed by a cruel smile on his lips. He felt something vile flow through his being, some disgusting and repugnant aura that exuded from his body and Jetstream’s immediate instinct was it was all directed at the creature.

His suspicions were confirmed. The creature stumbled back in terror at what he was seeing. Jetstream himself did not wish to view himself either. The way his own face was contorted into such an evil smile, the demonic aura he felt himself exude, and the way his lips tightened in pleasure at the creature’s torment all made Jetstream pity the creature. Nopony should take such perverse pleasure at the pain and suffering of another, especially if they were the cause of the discomfort. His face was contorted in mad glee, reveling in the chaos and cruelty of the acts it was committing.

His body landed, folded his wings, and dimmed his gemstone. The creature had backed up to the tunnel wall and refused to look at Jetstream. It was sobbing openly and Jetstream felt another stab of pity. It’s fear confirmed that Jetstream’s puppeteer and the creature were not allies. Did one chase the other through the gateway?

‘Was all of today’s and yesterday’s troubles due to some grudge match?’ he thought to himself.

Before Jetstream could ponder that theory, the creature had a bow in its hands faster than Jetstream could comprehend. It’s aim was shaking so bad the Jetstream did not worry about being attacked especially with his armor, but what was curious was that he stopped smiling. In fact, his expression seemed somewhat... fascinated. Impressed even.

What made even less sense to Jetstream was waving at the creature and flying back into the void. What was the purpose of the visit? What did it accomplish? He tried to think things through as his wings rhythmically flapped:

There was a portal in the sky.
One, possible two, creatures exited the portal.
Something had control of his body.
That something wanted to be alone in the caves.
It frightened the bipedal creature.

None of it added up.

‘...What are you up to...?’ Jetstream questioned. He didn’t expect to receive a response, but asked the question anyway. Just as predicted, his body did not alter its course or react to him in any way.

Somehow, his body landed on the other side while in complete darkness. Only afterwards did his body double tap the gemstone and fill the tunnel with pleasant light. His body broke into a quick canter. ‘Why are you in such a hurry?’ No response.

His body continued to follow the buttons, but where the routine differed was with something very, very peculiar; his body approached a random collection of rubble and started rooting through it. At the bottom of the pile was a saddlebag bulging with some unknown contents. ‘What’s in there?’

His body put on the saddlebag over his existing one and started moving, but before he could get too far, a noise filtered through the gloom. It was a whistle, very high in pitch, and had no recognizable means of being down in the caverns at all.

His body stopped, which startled Jetstream. The only hypotheses he could come up with was something wasn’t going as planned. Now that he thought of it, there was another: it was going exactly as planned.

“Twelve little stones aligned in a ring,

Life comes forth and by darkness they sing.

Flee the night, their eyes glinting.

Fear their gaze and the darkness they bring.”

The poem confused Jetstream. Again, it wasn’t something he had ever heard before in his life. ‘What does it mean? What’s that whistle?’

His body did nothing, let alone respond to him.

BAMF!

It was the same implosion sound as on the surface. His body smiled in pleasure and started walking; it was exactly what was expected. His body opened his mouth, and began to speak.

“If there is one thing above any other that I treasure, it is the laughter of children. I can not place what it is that enchants me so. Is it their perspective of events and the modern world?” The Sergeant had come across an underground ravine, cutting the path off. A small trail of buttons continued on the other side, but his body was looking down in the ravine. Spreading his wings, the Sergeant took to the air, but not towards the marked tunnel. Underground as he was, the shadows held dominion over all. His meager light source illuminated only so far, not even reaching the farthest shadows as the tunnel he came from vanished from sight. He was alone in the dark once again, but continued to speak.

“Or perhaps their freedom from sin? I do not believe life can be born evil. By that same token, they are not born with humility, either. A blank slate, completely and wholly pure from the world’s influence.” The other side of the ravine came to light. Without any noticeable guide or marker, he aimed for a tunnel much lower than the one he exited. He folded his wings, brushed off some dust, and continued onward.

“This world reminds me so much of children. The laughter. The innocence. The irrevocable belief that any incurred strife may be inoculated with the correct balance of emotion and caring hearts. What a foolish belief, but that is what makes it so endearing. These creatures, these ponies, believe in so much, but they have no idea how far - how fast - their monuments to their achievements and vanity will crumble when the worst comes to pass.”

‘...What are you talking about? Come on Voice, give me something.’

BAMF!

The noise echoed in the caves once again. He was being followed, despite flying.

He was in another tunnel with several branching tunnels on either side. His body kept on walking down the center path, but was slowing down.

“Peace is a good thing and should be maintained, but these ponies are soft.” The Voice continued. “Too soft. Their leaders, on the other hand, are a different story.” The Voice chuckled again. The tunnel opened up to a large, central chamber with several cracks in the stone floor leading to lower levels. On the very edge of his crown’s light, something was glinting near the back. Lastly, a single button hidden next to a stone marked Zecora’s trail.

“They are strong. Strong of heart, strong of mind. They will fight when the time comes. I have no doubts about this. I see the sun and the moon will ride the chariot of war. I see a tower, black as Hell and the darkest of nights, rising from tears and blood. The fool will abandon his liege, not out of any misplaced sense of duty, but out of love. But who am I? Where is my place in all of this? Well...” His body stopped in his tracks. In the soft glow of the crown’s light, Jetstream could see twelve green blocks aligned in a square with the corners removed. Each block had a single indentation where something circular could be placed, but all twelve notches were blank.

“Well,” he repeated, “I am the emperor.” The Voice chuckled again. “You can come out now; I know you’re there.”

The chamber was quiet save for the sound of rustling below. Several large salamanders, all a ghastly white due to lack of direct sunlight, slithered up from the cracks in the ground. each one flicked its tongue out. The scent of sweat and earth was heavy on the Jetstream’s body and the beasts could taste their guest through the air. Sensing warm-blooded flesh nearby, they crawled out of their hiding spots, braving the painful light of Sergeant Jetstream’s gemstone. There were four of them total and all with identical burn scars running alongside their back, but the Voice seemed unperturbed by the dangerous turn of events. In fact, he laughed in mirth and turned to glare at the reptiles.

Shockingly, upon meeting his gaze, the salamanders hissed and whimpered. Each whined with their heads down, not daring to look at him anymore. One by one, they retreated back into the cracks from whence they came and all was quiet. Satisfied that the salamanders left him alone, the Voice called out to the cave once more, “Now that we got that out of the way, come out; I’d like a word with you.”

Jetstream was thinking events over. It made so much sense now; the creatures reported running blindly in the forest, the manticore mates he encountered only a few hours prior, it added up to one simply conclusion: a far more intimidating creature. The scars made sense; whatever was down here used other creatures to frighten away anypony coming too close to finding its den or the construct currently in front of him. The creature would attack others and its prey would rampage in fear, delaying the Royal Guard and avoiding suspicion at the same time.

If only Jetstream figured it out sooner. The creatures of the forest discovered that there was something in the forest far more dangerous than them.

Whatever the Voice expected, it did not receive it. Jetstream’s smile disappeared from his face. “Or would you rather I summon the entire Royal Guard on this location?”

Jetstream strained his ears as hard as he could, listening. The Voice expected there to be something here, but what? For a moment, there was nothing...

BAMF!

The air behind Jetstream imploded. His body did not turn around to investigate the disturbance, only stand stoically next to the construct. Even though Jetstream could not see what was behind him, the presence was not completely undetectable; small purple particles drifted into his field of view, each one vanishing after a few seconds. The particles all moved in random directions on their own currents. In was quite the beautiful sight for the Sergeant.

The presence gurgled softly, which the Voice seemed to understand perfectly. “Indeed I can.”

The presence was silent for a few moments before it made a whistling sound. “A deal,” the Voice said.

Another gurgle.

“Guuruhh...”

“Because you and I want the same thing.”

‘What’s that?’

The presence whistled in surprise, but before it could say anything else, the Voice continued. “I’ll just come out and say I’m doing this for selfish reasons and nothing else. We have mutual ideals and goals, so I want us to work together to achieve them. Even if we both left this world, we both know what the Crafter coming here means: this land is going to burn. Me helping you will neither spread nor snuff the flames. If we succeed, we part ways; no more, no less. You go home, while I stay.”

“So Enderman, I ask you: what is your decision?”

The Enderman, as the Voice called it, was silent once more. Jetstream soon felt the smile return to his face.

It sung a chord of whistles and the Voice laughed giddily. “Good. Good! Now, here’s what I want you to do...”

Jetstream’s mind had locked up; his brain could not believe or process any of what he just heard.

“I’m glad you agree to my terms. Afterwards, you are free to say what you wish to her, suspicions or otherwise.”

‘No.... That thing will kill them all...’

“I’m afraid I must still inform others above as to this gateway’s location, but I think you are capable of doing what we agreed on without detection. Endermen are quite skilled in that art.”

‘You’re just going to sit by and watch!?’

“I bid you farewell.”

BAMF!

The particles vanished.

‘HUNDREDS OF PONIES ARE GOING TO DIE!’

Picking up the now empty saddlebag, his body ran, not cantered, back to the ravine. “Oh dear, time has gotten away from me.”

‘What else is there for you to do?’ Scenarios flew across Jetstream’s mind, all of them with streets full of dead ponies. It disgusted him. Who or what could willingly do such a thing?

His body removed the saddlebag and rain poncho and tossed them into the abyss. Jetstream counted the seconds. ‘1... 2... 3... 4...’ Thump!

His body reached a hoof up to his head. Jetstream winced internally, trying and failing to mentally prepare for what was about to come.

If he could, Jetstream would have sighed in relief as his body did not toss him over the edge. His heart would have jumped into his throat immediately afterwards. His body had taken off Ms. Rarity’s crown and set it on the ground. His body lifted a hoof.

‘No! Don’t!’

CRUNCH!

The soft metal buckled. He raised another hoof.

‘Please stop!’

CRACK!

The crown snapped in half, popping the gemstone out of its socket. The gem immediately started to dim. Jetstream wasn’t sure if he could be any more disturbed by the turn of events, but he was when his body swept the crown, gem and all, into the ravine. The stone cracked in half upon hitting the bottom, leaving only a scant few flickers of light.

The darkness was whole and consuming, eating the last few shreds of Ms. Rarity’s gemstone. With the gemstone’s struggle weakening, the light shrunk back bit by bit. With one final failed effort, the gemstone was snuffed out.

Silence. Absolute silence. And a total darkness Sergeant Jetstream could not escape. His breathing quickened, his heartbeat thudded in his ears.

Jetstream blanched.

He was controlling his own breathing now. Sure enough, he bent his limbs to test that hypothesis. Everything was in working order. But that did not change the fact he was alone, in the dark, lost, and trapped with an alien below.

His breathing quickened once more. A pegasus was born for flight and the open air, to bathe in the sunlight and coast on warm thermals. A dank, dark cave was not the place for him. He took a few tentative steps forward, taking measure to avoid the pit and loose rock.

It didn’t help. When his hoof came into contact with a particularly stubborn stone, he tripped and fell flat on his stomach. Wincing at the pain, he returned to his feet. It would do no good to break his neck if he tumbled over a precipice or broke something important in his blind wanderings, so the pegasus took the air. Spreading his wings, he gently flew further down the tunnel, keeping a hoof to the wall to keep track of his position.

The process was excruciatingly slow and did little to calm Jetstream’s frayed nerves. He could not hear anything and he obviously did not have a Night Guard’s night vision, but the fact that the Voice abandoned him alone with no reliable means of escaping to the surface disturbed him. Subconsciously, he wished for the Voice to return. At least the Voice would protect Jetstream in the process of protecting itself.

Clink!

Jetstream froze his movements, not even daring to breathe. Ever so slowly, he removed his hoof from the wall and strained his ears. A rock moved somewhere behind him, but there was nothing else in the tunnel to make a noise.

Except for an Endermen.

Jetstream threw that notion out as soon as he thought it. From its conversation with the Voice, the Enderman seemed intent on avoiding attention, not garnering more from the ponies above. Why would it bother approaching him? It wouldn’t, so that left something else. Something else was stalking the tunnels.

Jetstream lowered himself to the ground as softly as he could; he did not want to try to differentiate noises in the tunnel and the soft flapping of his own feathers. He landed and strained his ears, hunting for any other sound that might alert him to a foreign presence. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Where were those reinforcements?

Sargent Jetstream could feel the thudding of his own heartbeat and the quickened pants of his own breathing. So far, he had heard no confirmation suggesting he wasn’t not alone. He took another tentative step forward, the motion cooling his panicked sweat soaking his legs. Between his own perspiration and the cool cave air, Jetstream was starting to shake from cold.

Clink!

Jetstream’s heart jumped into his throat. He did not mishear; he was sure of that. There was nothing behind him that could make noise other than another presence. It was the only explanation.

Something hit the ground with a dull thud, causing Jetstream to jump. Something started slithering along the ground like a serpent.

Jetstream ‘s wings flew open and he took to the air. There was something behind him and it was coming straight at him. He just knew it. He took off like a shot, crashing into a wall seconds later. In his blind haste to get away, he had forgotten the tunnel was not a straight path.

Sergeant Jetstream tumbled to the ground in a heap. He shook himself of his daze and winced; he had injured a leg in his panic. It didn’t feel too bad and the adrenaline coursing through his veins dulled the pain instantly. Injury was the least of his worries at the moment.

He was openly hyperventilating now. Due to crashing, he no longer knew which direction he had taken. With no idea where he was, and no idea where to go, his knees started shaking in fear. Slowly, he backed up, keeping his ears sharp for any more noise in the darkness. His rump collided with the tunnel wall and he huddled their, struggling to hear any sort of noise. The sound was behind him before, but he could no longer hear it either on his left or right. It was that fact that caused his teeth to start chattering; fear of the dark, fear of the unknown, that scared him more than any threat of attack.

“This way...” an ethereal voice echoed to his left. It sounded familiar, but at that instant, the slithering returned on his right. Out of options and not one to press his luck, Jetstream cantered in the voice’s direction, keeping enough precaution to keep a hoof to the wall to guide his direction.

“Stop... stop now...” The voice breathed. Jetstream did not listen to the voice’s words. Fleeing for his life, he kept on moving, a hoof always on the wall.

“Stop now... stop... or you will die...”

‘Stay or go? Stay or go? Stayorgostayorgostayorgo.’ The words streamed forth in a continuous burst. Was the voice lying? Telling the truth? The same as the Voice that haunted him?

His body made the choice for his mind and halted in its tracks. He could hear the slithering behind him, right behind him. His breathing was rapid and uncontrolled, his heart beat like a drum.

“--gent?” Another voice echoed, but he couldn’t make out the first half.

The horde left Jetstream, quietly slithering up the tunnel. He shuddered at the unpleasantness of the experience, not wanting to repeat it anytime.

“You must listen to me...” Jetstream nodded in agreement, even if he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from.

“Listen to my voice...” Jetstream nodded enthusiastically.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!” A blood-curdling scream echoed through the caves. The tunnel’s own natural acoustics only made the scream longer and louder.

“Ignore the screaming... there’s nothing there...” Jetstream had backed his rump to the cavern wall once again, quietly huddling and whimpering to himself. It was just too much. He was scared out of his mind. He felt just like a foal again, scared of the tales his mother told him whenever he was naughty or was in the mood for a scary story. Only now it was terrifyingly, horrifyingly real.

“Run... run for your life...” The voice said in its husky whisper.

Whatever the reason for its words, Jetstream followed them to the letter. He bolted down the tunnel, not even using a hoof to follow the wall. Something scraped against the rocks he had just backed up against; it reminded him of Canterlot chefs sharpening knives whenever they were about to cook.

He heard panting next. Rapid, beasial panting right behind him and closing fast. Jetstream put on a burst of speed, not bothering to take care for any more rocks protruding from the floor. They kept on panting horribly as if they could not possibly hold air for much longer.

“Jump...”

Again, Jetstream followed the voice’s command and jumped with everything he had. His body sailed through the air, instinctively snapping open his wings to catch the wind and hover for landing. His front hooves landed on hard rock, but his hind hooves did not. He scraped his legs against the cliff face for just long enough to stop his fall and fly once again. He found stable ground and landed, but the Voice was not done. It’s ghastly, airy cadence seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

“Fight... I hate you... they will kill you...”

Once again, Jetstream did not question the voice. Raising himself on his fore legs, Jetstream bucked for all he was worth. His hooves crunched against something’s flesh, cracking bones under his might. One of them racked its talons across Jetstream’s armor, before falling into the pit. The other did not make a noise with its now crushed skull.

“Sweet Celestia, what did I just do!?” Jetstream screamed. He had just killed two creatures. They were trying to wantonly murder him, but the shock of the deed registered the same. He had just committed murder. He had slain a sentient creatures. No murder, not even an accidental one, had taken place in Equestria within the last twenty years.

“Do you feel it...?”

If it was referring to the gravity of his crime, Jetstream certainly was. He held his head in his forehooves, rocking himself back and forth. “Celestia, forgive me. Celestia, forgive me. Celestia, forgive me--”

The Voice, however, interrupted his mantra, “Now, do as I say... ”

Jetstream ceased his whimpering. He needed the Voice to survive.

“Run... to the light... or you will not survive...”

“What do you mean?” Jetstream asked, terror dripping from every word. Did the Voice try to kill him with the monsters he just bucked into the pit? Did it loathe him but need him alive for some greater purpose? The Sergeant did not have time to ponder such questions. He needed to start moving.

Finding the wall once more, he walked slowly down the tunnel. The adrenaline in his blood sharpened his hearing to untold degrees. His heartbeat was all he could hear now, even over the sound of his own hoofsteps. Boom boom boom boom came the beat, unstoppable and only growing faster and faster with every step. He could feel his boots slipping with the fine layer of blood from the creature’s bodies, the sweat staining his fur, the hard vibration of every step.

“Sergeant?” Came the other voice once more. Jetstream’s ears perked up; it was a pony’s voice, Thunder Dasher’s voice.

“Over here!” He called out.

“Sergeant? Are you alright?” Thunder Dasher replied. “I’m comi-- AAAAAAAAH--!” Came another scream that was abruptly cut off. In front of Jetstream, a small crown inset with a single gemstone fell into the corridor from a branching path. The scream was followed up by several slicing noises, each cutting into something something soft and moist.

Jetstream couldn’t help himself. He screamed. He screamed until his throat felt red and raw. He kept on screaming, until he was too hoarse to do it any more

The eldritch noises returned regardless, stronger than ever. Slithering. Panting. Scratching. Another unseen horde coming straight for him.

“More... more...! You fool...”

Jetstream ran for the crown with all of his might, instantly losing his footing on another stone lodged too strongly in the tunnel floor. Something grabbed Jetstream’s leg with a clawed hand. Jetstream gave a wild kick to the darkness and connected with something soft and squishy. Whatever it was, it squealed at the attack and shrunk back, but the noises, thousands of them, took its place.

Jetstream scrambled to his hooves and ran toward the light. Toward his salvation. Sanctuary. Safety. Freedom.

Jetstream entered the circle of light and turned to face the monstrous horde. It was quite the cacophonous sound. There were more than just hundreds; thousands of noises flooded his senses. The sound they made, the eldritch rythme they produced, was equal parts terrible and horrifying. Moaning, shuffling, hissing, crying, weeping; it was a horrid sound to listen to.

Jetstream huddled in a ball with his hooves to his ears, trying desperately to block out the hellish symphony of moving bodies. His chin came into contact with something sticky and wet, but he did not care. He just wanted the horde to vanish, to go wherever they were going and leave the poor Guard pony alone. His hooves did not help to silence the noise. He gritted his teeth, his limbs were shaking like a child. He was huddling in a ball and wishing the horror away.

“Make it stop! Please, make it stop!” He pleaded with the darkness, to the voice, to the Guard he had only just heard, to ANYPONY!

Jetstream did not dare open his eyes or lift his head to see what was around him. The noises were all around him now. There would be no escape if he ran; there would be nowhere to run to. Creatures shuffled around the light in droves, crawling and lurching on whatever limbs they possessed. Several were squishing as they walked, moaning as if they walked on open wounds instead of legs. Several creatures hissed as they got closer to Jetstream, but the source of the hissing immediately backed off when it entered the light. The Voice was right, he would have been eviscerated if he dared to stay in the darkness.

“Listen to me... to my voice... listen, and I will leave... leave your soul...”

“No! Don’t leave!” Jetstream cried out; the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.

“Do you hear it...? That is the sound... my sound... my soul...” All Jetstream could hear was the madness around him, the all-consuming hell that plagued him ever since he entered the forsaken caverns.

“My symphony... my song...”

The sound of madness was letting up, a sign the horrors were finally coming to an end. Jetstream gave a silent prayer to Celestia and Luna, wishing for his nightmare to be over. He would not stop them. He could not stop them. What could one pony hope to do against such nightmares?

The creatures had passed, every single one taking special care to remain outside the sanctuary of light. The sounds died down, but Jetstream did nothing but quietly weep in a ball. He knew it; he was going to die down in the darkness. No pony to help him, no pony to hear his tale of the Voice and the Enderman.

Only then did he notice how much his eyes were burning. In his panic, he was sweating profusely and it was running into his eyes. He ran a hoof across his brow to stem the flow...

...Only to discover his hoof was covered in a thick liquid. Jetstream knew he shouldn’t open his eyes; he feared exactly what he knew he would find, what was currently staining the floor and himself when he huddled in fear.

It was blood. Several liters of blood coated the floor, all of it flowing from one of the branching tunnels. The Guard pony that called out to him was no more. Although he couldn’t see the body beyond his orb of light, he didn’t attempt to find out. He didn’t want to see the horror inflicted on the pony in his final moments.

“Why is this happening?” He whimpered.

“Because I hate you.”

Jetstream looked up at the sound. Another pony stood in the darkness beyond the light of the crown.

“Stop sniveling.”

It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t even a command given to the Sergeant. The pony’s tone simply stated a fact: this will not continue in my attendance.

“I do not appreciate begging in my presence. It is most unbecoming.”

“I’m sorry.” Jetstream blanched as he said that. He had actually apologized to this pony, and he meant it. In just a few seconds, his obedience had been commandeered. It was... very unsettling to say the least.

“Do you know why I left the biped alone?”

Now things made sense to Jetstream. The ethereal voice and the Voice that commanded his body were the same. He had not taken enough time to think about his circumstances, to wonder if the voice leading him by the nose from the start was the same leading him at the end. He should have seen it coming from the very beginning.

“He has heart. I terrified him, petrified him to his very soul. But you saw what he did after he realized he had nowhere else to turn.” The Shadow raised its head proudly and Jetstream felt felt more than saw it smile. “He fought back. Unsuccessfully, but still, he had more of a spine than you.”

“I thought you were gone.”

The Shadow’s shoulders moved; it was quietly laughing at him. “I never left. I was always here, in your head. I let you believe I set you loose to test your fortitude, but I must say, did I acquire you from defective stock? 'The Equestrian Royal Guard,' the creme de la creme, the best soldiers this world had to offer; I greatly looked forward to testing your mettle, but instead of taking the self-preservation route, you took the coward’s way out. I am not impressed.” The Shadow hissed the last sentence with every ounce of venom it possessed.

The Shadow walked forward without a sound. Now that Jetstream thought about it, he could no longer hear the cacophonous horde either, or feel the slickness of Thunder Dasher’s blood beneath his hooves. Illusions, all of it. He’d been a rat in a cage ever since he regained control.

Jetstream lay huddled on the floor, not daring to get up. “...What are you?”

The Shadow took another step forward, revealing itself to the light. It was himself, his own body without mar or blemish. The golden armor shone in the light, the mane free of all debris and dust. But the eyes, the contempt they held was like being punched in the gut.

“Your Savior. Your Reckoning. I hate you, but I will save you... Save you all.”

The Shadow walked to the soldier calmly. Jetstream still made no move to escape the creature. In his heart, he did not deny his words. He had acted like a coward and still did.

The Shadow placed a hoof against Jetstream’s cheek. “So small, your race is.” It put another one on the other side, cradling Jetstream’s head carefully. “So easy to break. So easy to sweep away.” It’s voice was not condescending, but restrained. It was as if the pony it held in its hooves was something to be treasured or protected, to lock it away from harm.

The faux Jetstream placed its head against Jetstream’s. It stood there without a sound and quietly rocked back in forth. Its eyes closed, diminishing the light intruding on its eyes. It did not speak, and Jetstream dared not either. The leviathan, the beast in front of him, had Jetstream’s life and body in its hooves, and Jetstream accepted that fact. They held their positions, and in that time, the Shadow did not speak a word and Jetstream dared not interrupt its meditation.

Either minutes or an eternity later, the Shadow moved away from Jetstream. They stared into each other’s eyes, one a soldier, the other something far, far more. It was only then that Jetstream mustered the courage to ask the most pressing question, “Are you going to kill me?”

The Shadow gazed down the tunnel. Jetstream followed his example and looked as well. He could see the minute glow of light coming from one of intersections further down the tunnel. Reinforcements were coming. They were very close, but what would this creature do to such ponies?

“No.” Jetstream looked back to his copy and opened his mouth in surprise, causing the Shadow to chuckle merrily. “I do not needlessly kill, even if I find those in my presence distasteful; I find doing so to be a distasteful practice in itself. Plus, it leaves a trail that I do not like to leave. I just needed a Guard to report to his leader. For that opportunity to present itself, whispering to the outlander’s mind was enough to push her in the direction I needed without taking full control.”

The light was growing brighter. Jetstream could hear hoofbeats against the hard earth and stone.

“What’s stopping me from telling them everything?”

“Nothing.”

The bluntness of his copy surprised him. Did it really intend to let him be? With its abilities, it could crush them all in a blink.

Jetstream cocked his head to the side in worry, “Why are you--”

The Shadow smiled coyly. It gave Jetstream shivers. Whatever diabolical thoughts hid behind those blue eyes, Jetstream couldn’t fathom any of it. “Because there is something I hate more than you.” The Shadow backed up without a sound and disappeared into the shadows. The light of the crown began to dim as well, but Jetstream did not mind the darkness anymore; its master was leaving. However, it gave a few more words before finally departing, “My work is complete... now I leave your soul...”

The crown lost its glow, but Jetstream’s backup had turned the corner, flooding the tunnel with light. Jetstream held a hoof over his eyes to shield them from the brightness.

“Sergeant!”

Urk!

Jetstream dry heaved repeatedly. He felt like he had just passed through an industrial haze and came out on the other side. The pollution he didn’t know he had been feeling all along had vanished. Jetstream breathed in the stale air of the cave. Air had never felt so sweet. It was like being reborn, like something unclean had been wiped away from his being.

The small army had come to his aid and several magi started scanning him with their horns. A fellow Sergeant helped up off the dry, dusty floor and stepped back, allowing the soldier some room.

“What happened, Sergeant?” One magi questioned.

Jetstream ignored the question. “Has anypony gone down there besides your group?”

“No, Sergent. Why do you ask?”

“Because...” Sergeant Jetstream started, but the rest of his response died on his tongue. Because what? He dusted himself off, trying to think. He had entered the caves... and nothing else.

A memory popped into his mind: him approaching a gateway with twelve empty slots.

“The report received from Ms. Zecora was correct; there is some sort of structure or gateway down in the caves.”

‘Was there anything else down there?’ He knew there was the unconfirmed possibility of an additional intruder but... Jetstream couldn’t remember.

He lined up his thoughts one more time. He entered the cave, found the portal, and... ended up in front of a crowd of soldiers. Jetstream ran a hoof through the brush on his helmet in irritation and came to another startling revelation. He had somehow lost Ms. Rarity’s crown. Why couldn’t he remember anything in between events?

“Sergeant? Are you alright?” A Senior Private asked. Seeing the rank made his heart skip a beat. Why?

“No... I don’t think so. Somethin... something’s not right.” Jetstream shook his head. He had lost about a half hour’s worth of memory. “Let us proceed to the gateway. I still remember the path to Ms. Zecora’s trail, at least.”

“What do you mean by that, Sargeant?”

Jetstream couldn’t quite put a hoof on it himself. Why did he say that? “Nevermind, Senior Private. Let’s go.”

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
Chapter Commentary: LINK
For chapter updates and my ramblings, visit my page on Fimfiction HERE.
Edited by: Wearing Hat, Wolfmaster1337, Cor Thunder

Author's Note

This chapter has a slight alternate deleted scene after the chat with the Enderman. If you are interested, you can find it HERE.

Chapter 25: English, Miner, Do You Speak It!

Chapter 25: English, Miner, Do You Speak It!

Apple. One word. It was not much to go on, but it was better than absolutely nothing.

“So how are we gonna go about and do this? Ah’m not a teacher and neither are any of you.”

Twilight and the creature turned to the farmer curiously. Pinkie was trying her hardest to regain the creature’s attention, but he desired to ignore her for a moment. Whether it was out of curiosity for what Applejack was saying or he found Pinkie insufferable was beyond Twilight.

“I’m not sure, Applejack. I guess we could try to bring Cheerilee with us sometime in the future.” Twilight scrunched her brow in concentration. She was smarter than most ponies; she knew that for a fact. Often enough, whenever she wished to teach a pony something, she would receive a blank stare in return. It was anything from endearing to aneurysm-inducing to know something like the back of her hoof, but be unable to transfer the knowledge when it needed to be done.

Those situations always had the benefit of a pony that understood the basics of what she was trying to teach, or at least a rudimentary understanding. Now, however, she was dealing with a creature that not only did not speak her language, but did not speak period.

“Ms. Fluttershy? May I speak with you?” A Night Guard parted the tent fabric and beckoned the timid mare from her curled up ball from behind Rainbow Dash. “I’m here to take your statement.”

“I’ll go with her,” Rainbow called to the other girls.

“Good idea,” Rarity concluded. “I believe we can manage well enough on our own.”

Fluttershy ducked her head low and walked slowly out the tent. The Night Guard held the tent open for her, but Fluttershy used the moment to sneak a peek at the alien. He, in turn, was looking at her curiously, but only gave a small wave. Fluttershy ducked her head behind her mane and dug her hoof into the ground lightly. Quick as a flash, Fluttershy scrunched her eyes, gave a small, quick wave in return, and dashed out the door. Rainbow took to the air and followed, glaring at the alien the entire time until she was out of sight.

“Now I don’t mind stoppin’ by to help, but I gotta skedaddle back to the farm; Granny Smith is askin’ for help with her canning some veggies.”

“I suppose. I’m sorry I dragged you all here in the first place.”

“You six are cleared to come by anytime,” the senior officer on duty growled. “You can come back if you need to.”

Twilight brightened. “Well, that settles it! Everypony, do what you need to do and come back here when you can. Perhaps we can talk to him after all. Again, I’m sorry for bringing you all here if three of us have to leave so soon.”

“It was nothing, dear. However, undermining an order from the princess truly is poor form.”

“And it was cool to meet an alien! Does that mean you are going to probe us?”

“Pinkie!”

“...I got nothin’.”

“He’s trying to communicate, Applejack.” Twilight squinted her eyes at the crude drawing drawn on the wood. Somehow, he had acquired a chunk of charcoal and was using that to scratch figures and symbols onto wooden signs. It was simplistic, but effective. Now if only she could actually deduce what he was trying to say.

The first two to make it back were Twilight and Applejack. Big Mac and Applebloom had a fair chunk of Applejack’s work done by the time she returned, so she made a beeline back to the creature’s tent. Where the rest were, Twilight didn’t know.

The creature seemed just as frustrated as they were, gritting his teeth at the lack of comprehension on their faces. Although Twilight was sure the creature wasn’t attempting to be intimidating, he exuded such an aura without much effort. Perhaps it was the rippling muscles under his clothes or the fact that, even though he was sitting on a cube of cobblestone, he still loomed over both of them by a good six inches

“I get that much, sugarcube, but what does that,” she thrust a hoof at the two crude symbols, “mean?”

Volumes of text and streaked across Twilight’s mind. Books about lexicons, word morphology, syntax, and grammar came and went, but little helped her. She faintly recalled some books during her stay in Canterlot castle years ago. Starswirl the Bearded was studying ancient griffonic and Germaneighic dialects. Such texts were rare, but their content was well known for one reason...

“Graphemes.”

“Bless you.”

“No, no, no,” Twilight shook her head for emphasis. “They’re graphemes. Logograms.” Applejack stared blankly back at her, who only facehoofed. One such curse of being too smart was having to explain what she considered to be small details to those who had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“Words are phonograms, meaning each letter of a word is a single sound. ‘O’ and ‘F’ make ‘OF’. Alone, they are just sounds, but together, they’re words. What he is writing is a logograph. Each symbol doesn’t represent a sound, but a word or a group of words.”

Comprehension dawned on Applejack. “Oh, so he’s jus’ drawin’ pictures instead of letters?”

“Precisely. Now what each symbol means is a different matter. But still, we’re getting closer.” Twilight let out a childish squeal of delight. “An alien with a whole new language! I could submit a report to the Council of Magic. Maybe even the Magus Society! Imagine if I could complete a lexicon on a whole new language never before seen in Equestria! I – ”

“Twi, we’re losin’ ya.”

Twilight stopped dead and blushed sheepishly. “Sorry. I can’t stop myself when I get like like that.”

Applejack smiled warmly and gave twilight a friendly nudge. Given the disproportionate size in strength, Twilight was almost sent tumbling into the dirt.

“Butterflies,” growled the warden Night Guard.

“What was that?” Twilight asked.

“Butterflies. The first one looks like butterflies.”

Applejack was the first to put the pieces together, the facts coming into completion with an almost audible click. “Fluttershy! He’s talkin’ about Fluttershy! Three butterflies is her cutie mark.”

Twilight’s smile widened. The guard was right; it did kind of look like a group of butterflies, if crudely drawn. “Thank you, sir.”

“It is not a problem, missus.” The warden nodded in thanks and stayed immobile at his post. The tension had slackened, but the guards were ready to jump at a moments notice.

Twilight took the sign from the creature, whom didn’t seem to mind. The creature got up, stretching its limbs. Twilight and Applejack both winced as a cascade of pops echoed through the room.

“What’s he doing?” Twilight asked as the creature planted a fist against the ground.

“Looks like he’s makin’ a farm, Ms. Twilight,” the same guard responded.

Applejack laughed uproariously. “Ha ha ha ha ha! A farm? Ha, it’s going to take more than – ”

Pop!

SplashI

Shhk!

It was so fast, Twilight missed it. In the space of a few blinks, a single whole and nine square meters of tilled ground sprung into being. The blissful blanket of potential knowledge was slowly brushed aside by the knowledge of an impossible act.

“That’s... that’s not...” Twilight’s conscious mind retreated inward to a padded cell where it could remain sane and safe. When the stress of daily activities or lurking deadlines became too great, it was as simple as hitting a switch and Twilight’s conscious mind simply shut down. “That’s... that’s...”

“Not possible...” Applejack finished. her own mouth had gone slack.

The warden pulled her second aside. “Get some backup; we have a potential Lesson Zero-level incident on our hooves.”

“...”

It wasn’t exactly a staring contest, but nothing was quite being done, either. Rarity was alone in the tent with the creature and his guards. The animated discussion that dominated Twilight’s stay was blissfully absent. The guards stood in place, as was their sworn duty to do so, but most wished something would happen to lift the monotony that descended whenever they were alone with the creature, or in present company with Rarity.

Why Rarity was so quiet was a mystery to them, and to the creature. When Rarity first entered, the creature smiled warmly and showed her a very crude picture of her own cutie mark. Rarity stayed silent and the creature’s attempts at attempting dialog dissipated into limbo. Soon enough, they both did nothing but stare at each other blankly.

Without a word, Rarity turned around, rose her head in a dignified manner, and cantered out the door.

“...What was with that shit?”

“No swearing, second lieutenant. Twenty laps around the base.”

“That’s no problem – ”

“Without flying.”

“Horseapples.”

Doctor Hemos escorted Twilight to the creature’s tent, droning the entire way. “Take two pills before the onset of anxiety attacks or extreme emotional response, Ms. Twilight. If you ever run out, I know a pharmacist in Canterlot who will gladly refill this prescription.” Hemos tore a sheet of paper with a name and address from his notebook and gave it to her, along with an orange bottle of pills.”

“Thanks, doctor. My friends have been telling me to get checked out ever since...” Twilight prodded the dirt. “Smartypants...” she whispered in a small voice.

Before Twilight could say any more or Hemos could respond, a tiny projectile rocketed out from the tent and hit Twilight near the base of her horn. “Ah!” she yelped and scrambled backwards. Her hoof caught a particularly stubborn stone and she tumbled head over tail backwards and landed in a heap.

Hemos did not even emote at the sudden injection of events. Calmly, he searched the ground for the source of the disturbance. It was a round object nestled in a small patch of thistles, and using his magic, picked it up and observed it. “A marble? Indeed it was a simple marble, green in color with a tiny dollop of rainwater clinging to the glass surface.

Twilight scrambled to her hooves. “A marble? Don’t tell me...” Twilight trotted towards the tent, while Hemos returned to his office. Inside, Twilight found exactly what she expected.

“By hitting the marble at the right angle and knocking it from the ring, you can get your shooter near the center of the ring for your next shot. It’s fun!” Pinkie lay huddled right next to the alien near the border of a circle in the dirt. Pinkie had tug a small trench with her hooves to create a board for a game of marbles. The creature, on the other hoof, was staring at a marble with the most sublime, devotional look she had ever seen in her entire life. He rolled the marble around in the palm of his hand slowly and gaped in surprise.

“Pinkie, have you been spending this entire time trying to teach him marbles?”

“Well, duh,” Pinkie said as if it were the most obvious fact in the entire wide world of Equestria. “He didn’t know how to play, so of course I had to teach him.”

Twilight reached into her saddlebags for the bag of pills before stopping herself, breathing deeply, and giving a long exhale before responding. “...True. Thanks for introducing the concept of fun and recreational sports to the alien.” It made sense in theory, anyway. “But have you learned anything from him?”

“Nope!” Pinkie shot a marble, displacing two other marbles from the circle. The alien lay prone, mouth open, as if such an act was the most amazing act in the world.

Twilight couldn’t help but facehoof. “Pinkie... we need to learn how he talks and teach him our language.”

Pinkie shot up in a surprising feat of agility. She pointed a hoof at herself. “What’s my name?”

The alien snapped out of its reverie with a jerk. Pinkie pointed a hoof to her chest in earnest. With a flash of brown, a burst of energy parted from his chest and reformed into a sign. Twilight’s eyebrow twitched.

Tick tick tick tick

PINKIE

“He doesn’t know what that means, but we’re working on that.”

“Pinkie... well, it’s a start. In fact, this is great!” There was a very real difference between understanding what he was writing, and just repeating what he saw. Monkey see, monkey do appeared to be the case.

Just to test the extent of whatever Pinkie was teaching him, Twilight pointed at her own chest. “My name is Twilight. Twilight Sparkle.”

Ponies were carefree and emotional by nature. They did what they pleased and prided themselves on what they did best. The very mark of their achievements was plastered across their flanks. Every city was filled with carefree souls, all happy to be alive and living tall.

So Twilight was surprised to see the creature’s face fall. He pointed a finger at himself and shook his head.

“No name? Everypony needs a name, silly! Why, I don’t know what I’d do if anypony didn’t have a name.”

The creature wiped away Pinkie’s name and wrote a few more marks in its own glyphic language.

Twilight scrutinized the symbols. An ‘X’ and a line... X...

“The X... That probably means null or no. No... name? No name?” Three symbols now. It was progress.

“What would I say to Mrs. and Mr. Cake if I didn’t have a name for cupcakes?”

The soldiers were silent for the past hour or so. The Miner, as some had started calling him, had begun burrowing underground in order to open up a subterranean hidey hole once again. What he was doing down there was unknown, for none dared venture into the darkness. Although the Miner had long since returned to the surface, the flickering light of a torch illuminated the underground. Such tantalizing lures for knowledge was strong in the guard, but they had a charge to guard.

He was currently crafting items out of diamonds: picks, axes, swords, and armor. As soon as one item was created out of gem and wood, it was quickly stored away.

“Current count?”

“Sir, five swords, three shovels, three picks, two axes, and two sets of armor.”

“Very well then. Keep a count for inventory purposes.”

At that time, the entrance parted once more. Rarity had returned. Her snowy fur was as immaculate and perfectly groomed as ever. Secured around her midsection were her embroidered saddlebags. She undid the clasp with her magic and grabbed the top item, throwing it at the Miner. A shroud of green wrapped around his head and he collapsed in surprise.

“Put on a decent shirt!”

Twilight reviewed her pages of notes before examining the symbols in front of her.

“Okay... the postfix dash on the triangle is a sign of past tense... but...” Twilight rose from her kneeled state, her joints creaking angrily at the movement. Shaking her legs to get them working once more, she walked in a circle around the alien. “I ran,” she said. He wiped away the charcoal smudges on what looked like a fairly expensive new shirt and wrote a new set of text.

“So this circle is a second-pony personal pronoun meaning ‘you’,” Twilight stuck her tongue out in concentration as she thought. “And the horizontal dash is a first-pony nominative case for referring to yourself. “So...” Twilight examined a third set of symbols in her journal, which happened to be the exact same ones as she jotted down. She had asked a pair of guards to jog in a circle for reference in order to understand the alien’s idea of plural and gender-specific terms. Instead, she received the same symbols.

The gears started winding in her head, although much slower than normal. It was getting the afternoon and daylight was burning. Most of her time had been spent understanding the creature’s behavior. It was prooving to be a much more difficult task than she had anticipated.

“So... ‘You run’ and ‘They run’ have the exact same characters... ooooohhhhh.” Twilight faceplanted into her notebook. “I need a break,” she mumbled into the dry parchment and moaned.

The alien tapped her shoulder lightly. Twilight looked up blearily, her mind rebelling against her desire to continue her word. The desire for some coffee or a strong tea reared its head.

“Fluttershy. What about her?” Twilight asked curiously. It wasn’t a shift in conversation she anticipated in the slightest. What did Fluttershy have to do with –

“I got it!” The alien, who had began scratching new symbols on his workboard, jumped in surprise. He sat back on his stone cube, eyeing her warily. “You don’t have a differentiation between singular and plural because you don’t have one!” Her mental list of facts opened up once more and Twilight reviewed every page.

“Before, you said Fluttershy ran away or something to similar effect. I ran, she ran, and they ran,” she nudged her head to the guards standing at the walls. “But you didn’t make any new symbols to include gender; most Royal Guardponies are male. Therefore.” The alien stared blankly at Twilight, not comprehending a single word of what was being said, “you don’t differentiate between plurals or gender, because you don’t think like that. It’s a ‘me or them’ mentality! A term for yourself, and a term for all others as a whole! He runs, she runs, and they run are all grouped together in your language! They all have the same symbols!”

Twilight began pacing. “But why? If you don’t write a differentiation between you and everything else...” It hit her and Twilight stopped pacing. The creature did not have symbols for gender or groups because it didn’t live a life that required them. “...You’re alone, aren’t you? There’s only one of your kind.”

To Twilight, it made sense. The creature didn’t have a word for female because it didn’t know any females. It didn’t know a terms for second or third person pronouns because there was no one to listen or reply. Why have a word for someone who didn’t exist?

Or for that matter, why bother talking when there was no one around to listen?

“Come on! Make a cake for me! Please make a cake! You can, can’t you? Maybe you need some better materials? I can go back to Sugarcube Corner and grab some eggs, flour and milk if that’s what you need. Of course, maybe you use alien eggs? Oh, what does an alien chicken look like? I bet it’s all big and hairy and covered and slime and goes goes “Roar!” when you try to take its eggs.

“What about milk? Do you have any moo moos where you live? Are they cows or do they looks like you? That’d be weird if they look like you. Can you imagine getting yourself milked? I certainly can’t. Although, I did see some of Rarity’s magazines once showing pictures on something similar to that, so she might like that. I’ll ask her later.

“But you make bread, so you have to add grain. DO you preheat the oven or does you make it pop into existence with space magic?”

By that point, the Miner was on his back, trying desperately to claw away from the hyperactive Pinkie Pie. Pinkie would not relent her verbal assault and stood over him with legs on either side.

Pinkie gasped. “Do you have babies I can babysit?”

“Okay, Mr. Miner,” Twilight began. She pointed a hoof at her chest. “What’s my name?”

Tick tick tick

TWILIGHT

“Great! Now who’s that?” Twilight pointed a hoof towards Rarity.

Tick tick tick

RARITY

“Good! At least he can understand letters at their face value. It’s not quite the same as learning words, but we’re doing well. Very well, in fact.” Rarity gave a disgruntled but ladylike snort. Somehow.

“Three hours, and he’s already ruined a perfectly fine shirt,” Rarity whined. Charcoal stained the creature’s shirt and streaked across his face and into his beard.

The Miner got up stretching his aching muscles. Twilight, Rarity and Applejack thought the notion of a break was a good idea as well, so they each stretched to loosen up tight muscles. The tent was illuminated by a light sphere at the top of the tent, but the room was slowly darkening due to the diminished light from the dying sun. Twilight was more than tired with all the work that she had done, but the alien looked as refreshed as he was in the morning. How he managed to keep such high stamina evaded her, but she concluded it was most likely a trait indigenous to his kind.

A kind of only one. Twilight’s ears folded against her head sadly. To be alone...

“What’s the fella’ doing now?” Applejack questioned.

“He does this,” the warden growled. “He builds stuff in his free time.”

“An architect?” Applejack asked.

“Sort of, Ms. Applejack. Watch for a moment and you’ll see.

Sure enough, the Miner soon conjured a wooden workbench. His movements were simple, yet practiced. Fingers twitched with precision, conjuring eight stone blocks in a square. The creature slammed its fist down on the simple construct and a an unnoticeable to all but him sliver of power brought new life to the construct. Stone warped out of its solid state, twisting into a malformed mass of quivering gray energy.

As quick as it started, it stopped. In the place of stone was a crude yet sturdy stone furnace empty of kindling.

“Now ain’t that somethin’,” Applejack admitted, her previous objections to the creature’s temporarily forgotten. The creature tossed a nodule of charcoal into the furnace. With no warning, tongues of fire burst into existence.

“Woah, nelly!” Applejack, Rarity, and Twilight scrambled backward at the sudden introduction of heat and flame. “Warn a gal next time!”

The Miner looked at Applejack curiously, but said and did nothing. A ribbon of gray energy sprung from his arm and entered the furnace. Together, they watched as the flames flickered and danced, pony eyes wide with awe as a miracle was made.

The sound of clopping hooves could only be heard inside the tent as soon as they were near the door. A pile of frizzy hair parted the tent flap. “Awwwww.” Pinkie panned her head around the room. The alien was nowhere to be seen. “I’ll come back later then.”

The sound of her hooves faded away. The tent was silent for a long time, but the Night Guard did not seem to mind that their charge was out of sight.

Pop!

A cube of dirt vanished and a brown-haired head peeked out of the ground warily. The pink menace was gone.

“Okay, Mr. Miner; how many of us are there?” Twilight pointed to herself and her four current friends, minus Fluttershy. To reinforce the notion, Twilight drew the numeral ‘5’ in her notebook.

Tick tick tick

“Hmmm...” That was odd. “I was expecting a count of five, but that looks like an ancient pegasus numeral.”

“What?” Rainbow asked crossly. It was the first time she entered the tent all day, as she refused to do so without her friends, and only did so grudgingly and under much grumbling. “Like how ancient?”

“Pre-Equestrian. This resembles numerical number counting methods before an octal counting system was set in place.” To test her theory, Twilight drew four dots into the dirt with a hoof. The Miner wiped away the charcoal with the back of his hand and drew another symbol.

“It’s a numerical four!” Twilight pranced in place and giggled like a school filly. “Fantastic!” Her four friends smiled uncomfortably at the foalish display of delight. Twilight opened her mouth to say something, but faltered. “He... Miner...” She rubbed a hoof over her chin in thought.

“You know, we should name him something.”

“Like what? Trouble?” Rainbow joked. “It suits him well enough.”

Tick tick tick

The five looked at the Miner as he wrote something down. They hadn’t taught him the name he was trying to say.

Rainbow growled at the biped; although Barricade attempted to alleviate their concerns that he had pursued Fluttershy, Rainbow suspicious nature of outsiders, especially concerning her oldest friend, made burying the hatchet much more difficult.

“What about Fluttershy?” Applejack asked.

The Miner continued writing. In all of their communication up to that moment, his messages had been short and simple. That was not the case for his next message.

The group looked at the sign, completely baffled. “Well...” Twilight tried to scrounge up a thought to rationalize or explain the message. “Well... there’s a past postfix on that symbol and that one means Fluttershy...” Twilight sighed and looked out the tent flap. Through the bubble of a magus’ magic, she could see the ruby red shroud of dusk on the western mountains.

“I think we can sort through it later. It’s been a long day, and I think we all could use a rest.” Twilight’s friends nodded in relief; it really was getting late and each had work to be done and sleep, for tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

Minecraft/MLP:FIM crossover.
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Edited by: Wolfmaster1337, Maverick Frond, Material Defender